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augustinewrites · 1 year

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when the kids had first moved into the apartment, the first thing you and satoru sat them down and established was that you were not going to be their new parents. satoru, and eventually you, were just their legal guardians.

then a year later, megumi had shyly asked if you’d come to his mother’s day lunch at school.

after that, everything you’d said that first night had gone out the window (especially after tsumiki had given satoru a mug that said ‘my dad is rad’ with his face on it).

and you were both okay with that, because they were cute kids, and over the years you’d grown to love them like they were your own. everyday you spend with your little family is a special one, especially days like today.

instincts, perhaps, are what prompt you to get up much too early on sunday, a day where you typically sleep till…well, at least 8am. but there’s noise coming from the kitchen that concerns you.

satoru has no such instincts, still snoozing away next to you. you shake his shoulder, hoping to pass off responsibility for whatever’s transpiring to him, but he simply nudges his face deeper into his pillow.

so you take your own pillow and smack him with it.

he wakes up with a start, eyes still heavy with sleep as he looks around. “what? what’s happening?”

you point to the door, where the sound of the record player’s soft tunes are accompanied by something almost foreign to your household.

it takes him a minute to process the sound, but once he does, he looks just as confused as you feel.

“is that the sound of laughter coming from our two moody teenagers?” you ask, genuinely bewildered. “do you think they’re laughing at each other?”

satoru sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “i think we should probably get out there. someone’s definitely holding them at gunpoint.”

he slides out of bed to grab and hand you your robe, very obviously hiding something behind his back while trailing out of the room after you. arms crossed, you step into the kitchen to see the two teens working together to set up the table.

“what is going on here?” you ask, eying the mess on the kitchen counter and prompting them both to turn around. “i hope you both know that i’m not cleaning this up.”

“of course not, babe. it’s your day,” your fiancée tells you, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a bouquet of flowers into your hand.

“my day? so that means you’ll be cleaning up?”

“obviously not. that’s what the two freeloaders are here for. as for how i’ll be treating you today…”

the kids roll their eyes as he pulls you in for a longer than necessary kiss, stealing your breath away. megumi coughs loudly, prompting you to pull apart so you can start breakfast.

like every year, your spot is already set up with a plate of fluffy pancakes, eggs, and a steaming cup of coffee.

“what, nothing for me?” satoru pouts as the kids load their own plates up and get settled at the table.

“you’re not our mom,” megumi huffs.

“yeah, but i’m your—”

“don’t call yourself daddy or i swear to god—”

you hide your smile behind your mug as you glance between the two. it wouldn’t be a family meal without satoru and megumi’s petty snipes.

it also wouldn’t be mother’s day without gifts. satoru would never let them hear the end of it if there wasn’t.

there’s a very…abstractly wrapped book from megumi, a perfectly knitted sweater from tsumiki, and classic ‘do the dishes’ coupons and the promise of a spa day.

“we really are grateful for you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the backs of each of your fingers before entangling them with his own. “i could never do this without you.”

“well, it’s a good thing you’ll never have to,” you tell him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before slapping a coupon onto the table. “except when it comes to the dishes.”

(and after he gets sealed, you realize you’d never thought you’d have to do any of it without him.)

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 1 year

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Imagine making the red haired pirates laugh during serious moments

Warning slight spoilers

The crew is in the town jail

Benn: *drunk as shit and annoyed he's too drunk to fight* We need to get out of here or the navy is going to be up our asses by morning light. Gods it was such a mistake letting you talk us into bar hopping this close to Mary Geoise. We need to figure out how to get out of here, think you idiots.

Shanks: *Snores loudly*

Benn: *kicks him awake* think of a way to get us out of here like your life depends on it.

You: Yeah, wouldn't want the world government to get a hold of you boss, they'll stick one of those stupid bubbles they wear on you.

Shanks: Those old men are always lenient with me like I'm their loser grandson.

You: probably because you are their loser grandson, or at least one of theirs, and they feel too guilty to really punish you because ultimately it's their fault that you became a pirate in the first place.

Benn: You give them too much credit, they're not capable of that much empathy, and also less talkie, more thinkie.

A few minutes later

You: *trying to make small talk to pass the time* So are you just a Benn? Or are you a Benedict, Benjamin?.... A Bennathan?

Shanks: *slumped next to Benn, starts cackling*

Benn: *snorts* Bennanathan? No, just a Benn. Also, this is very serious, we might get caught by the world government tonight.

Shanks: *slurring* it's fine, I just need to sober up a little, so give me a few minutes, and I'll bust us out once I am no longer able to feel the planet spinning.

You: sure, it's the planet that's the only thing spinning. Our Boss is too strong to fall victim to a bit'a hooch, but I can't say the same for his liver.

Hongo: *snorts* I'll make arrangements to get him a new one just in case.

A week later

Shanks: *yelling* But we need an escape pod for the ship, it'd be very useful to have!

Howling Gab: *the quarter master in charge of the ship's budget and also yelling* no, you have legs and one good arm, just swim, most of our enemies are devil fruit users anyway!

Benn: *secretly wants one too* it would be pretty cool.

Howling Gab: *Bellows* (y/n) come get your boys, they want a ludicrous escape pod!

You: *Missing all their social ques, as you come out of the office* Oh, that sounds hella rad!

Howling Gab: *gives you the disapproving dad look and growling low in his chest*

You: I mean, why would we need that? Especially when both of you are such excellent swimmers, and you both look hot when you're soaked.

The crew: *nods in agreement*

Shank: All very true, but please try seeing it from my perspective~

You: *opens the broom closet next to you, pulls out a stepladder and gets on, so you can look him in the eyes*

Hongo: *keels over laughing*

Benn: *coughing because he's laughing so hard and needs to stop smoking*

Shanks: *Wants to be mad, but can't*

You: We don't need an escape pod, okay?

Shanks: ... fine.

You: *takes another step up the ladder, so you're at eye level with Benn* agreed?

Benn:.... Agreed

You: Good, now let's go get wasted.

Shanks: It's probably a good thing we don't get an escape pod, I'd end up driving drunk.

You: we know darling, we know, there's a reason why we don't let you near the stern when you've had a few. You always try to drink and sail.

Coming Soon (5/13)

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #akagami no shanks #red hair pirates #red hair shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #red hair shanks #shanks #benn beckman #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #5/13/23 #no beta we die like men

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stoat-party · 8 months

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I’M DEEKPOSTING AGAIN, RAILROADIES

Deacon’s relationship with children(/his own lack thereof) is one of the most fascinating and understated pieces of character development in Fallout 4. I’m maybe too hg&:ghlkd@ to create a unified narrative here, so I’m just gonna make a list of details from the game and let you interpret from there.

Obviously he directly says that he and his wife were trying to conceive before she died. We don’t know whether it would ever have been possible, but, most likely, neither does Deacon.

He’s the only companion besides MacCready to love it if you share your grief at losing a child with Blake Abernathy. Also, as far as I can tell, he’s the only one to love it if you tell Miss Edna that children need love (and that love conquers all).

He seems to have some aversion to the subject of children, however, at least pre-war children. In the abandoned nursery he says, “When you’re done here, I’d like to leave,” in a very unDeaconlike tone. He also says he hates playgrounds.

At max affinity he has a very sweet line promising to help you find Shaun. I’ve never heard him say it so it could be cut content.

Reaction to rads: “Great. I didn't need to have more children.” (Yeah okay you liar)

He has two different pieces of dialogue that make it sound like he would have been interested in being a teacher. “So teachers, all they did was teach, right? They didn't farm or run shops or run guns on the side? Wow.”/“If I wanted steady work I would've stayed a teacher.” (Yeah okay you liar)

There’s a very cute conversation where he gets intel from a little girl (possibly Meg?) who’s his informant. To all of our devastation, the man is great with kids. Considering that and his dialogue with Travis, I think he’d be an amazing dad.

He also seems to have a good relationship with Shaun. He pulled out his “actually I’m a synth” lie with Shaun, but knowing Deacon I’m guessing it’s to prepare him for the eventual realization that he’s a synth himself.

[idk when this dialogue triggers, possibly also in radiation] “If I keep tromping around here, guess there won’t be any little Deacons scurrying around in the future.” I really hope this isn’t a joke and he still has hope of being a father. He’s obviously not interested in the player character, but that doesn’t mean he’s ruled out remarriage. He’s been a Railroad agent for over fourteen years, so he probably feels like he’s running out of time.

#right now he can be the best uncle ever for shaun nat and duncan #but i hope the eggman finds what he’s looking for #fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #deacon fallout #deacon fallout 4 #deacon fo4 #fallout deacon #fallout 4 deacon #fo4 deacon #fallout 4 spoilers #shaun fallout 4

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livwritesstuff · 4 months

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More steddie dads content I really want some Eddie centered like teaching the girls guitar or dnd especially since Robbie is like him I think that they’d bind over a shared interest and he’d teach her stuff from when he was younger!

lol yeah the last few have def been more steve-centric (and also kind of a bummer) so let's switch up the vibe a bit

So, yes, Robbie is Eddie's daughter through and through.

She's stubborn and brazen and loud in her opinions and beliefs. She can be a little flippant about other peoples' feelings when she's not careful, and sometimes struggles to acknowledge the validity in other experiences outside of her own - in other words, she's Eddie to a T. She's even got the same big curly hair (though it's way more well-maintained than Eddie's had been thanks to Steve).

As for hobbies, Robbie is the only one out of Eddie and Steve's three daughters to really take an interest in music.

Eddie is thrilled about this, especially in the early days when Robbie is seven or eight and dying to try out any instrument they put in front of her. She has a natural proclivity for nearly all of them, which is fucking wild to Eddie, but the violin is the one she takes a particular shining towards.

Eddie can't say he'd ever had a resounding interest in classical music, but he wants to support Robbie so he dives into it right along with her.

That shit...

is metal as hell.

Seriously rad.

Eddie anxiously waits for her to be old enough to try out his old electric guitar. He waits until she's fifteen years old - the same age he'd been when he'd gotten his first electric - and then he digs it out of storage and bestows it upon her like the exquisite treasure it truly is.

In true teenager fashion, Robbie is...unimpressed.

She humors him for a bit, and to her credit, she does seem at least a bit intrigued by the almost forty-year-old guitar, but when Eddie offers to show her how to play, she only shrugs.

"I don't want to mess with my technique," she tells him, as if she's not shattering his heart into a bazillion tiny pieces.

"What does that even mean?"

"I dunno," she shrugs again.

Later, once the guitar has been safely put away, Eddie recounts the exchange to Steve.

"I just don't get it," he laments, "She'd be so good at it! I don't get why she won't just give it one chance."

"She's you, my love," Steve tells him, "Are you forgetting all the years you spent rejecting everything outside of what you deemed acceptable. You grew out of it. She will too."

So Eddie resigns himself to waiting it out. Robbie ends up deciding she wants make a career out of playing the violin, and she goes to New York to get her bachelors in music.

Just as Steve had predicted, once she hits college and grows up a little bit, she starts seeing the value in the world outside of the small corner of it she occupies. She comes home from her first semester regaling them with all the things she'd learned, and she catches Eddie by surprise when she asks him to bring out his old electric guitar.

Eddie and Robbie jam in the basement for like five hours before Steve insists they go the fuck to bed, and that "Hazel has school in the morning, in case you lunatics forgot."

(As for dnd, looking at it from the perspective of teenage girls, Steve and Eddie's kids absolutely do not want to think about their dad DM-ing. Eddie can't even breathe the wrong way without his daughters calling him out for being cringe or whatever, never mind executing a whole campaign. They'd die of embarrassment - guaranteed.

Robbie does get super into MTG in college, which Eddie absolutely takes as a personal F-You from his daughter. He gets his revenge by refusing her offers to teach him to play, even though it honestly sounds like a fuckin' blast, but that's a hill he's willing to die on)

#the universe said “here's you in smart-ass teenage-girl form best of luck”#steve actually has a way harder time parenting her than eddie does but that's a conversation for another day #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #eddie munson #steve harrington

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ijustliketoreadstuff · 10 months

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People want Marinette to tell Adrien the truth? Yeah, of course, I'm sure she can just do that.

Hey Adrien, your dad was secretly Monarch the entire time, he had this secret plot to terrorize and akumatize a bunch of innocent people so he could get his hands on the miraculous to bring back your mom. Oh by the way your a sentimonster and those rings you have were used by your dad to control you like a puppet, don’t loose them. Also, your mom didn’t actually disappear, she was dying from the peacock miraculous after using it to bring you to life, but that's not something you need to blame yourself for. Any who, your dad hid her body in a secret basement underneath your mansion where she was in a pod for a whole year, Nathalie knew the whole time and went along with all of your dads plans for a while, but had a change of heart and gave me a phone that had a bunch of recordings of your mom telling Nathalie and your dad that she didn't want to be brought back and to not go on a total rampage to get the miraculous. Oh by the way, Nathalie also used the broken peacock miraculous, she’s Mayura, but then she started dying not long after that. The reason I know all this is because Felix told me the story of how the two of you were born sentimonsters and that his dad, Colt, also used the peacock miraculous, turns out, pretty much everyone in your family knew about the peacock miraculous. Oh, and I know Ladybug told you your dad sacrificed himself like a hero, but I was lying, yeah I was Ladybug the entire time . I fought with your dad in the mansion in what was basically a cage match at this point and found out where he was keeping your mom, buuut he got the cat and ladybug Miraculous from me and begged me not to tell you who he was as part of his final words before he died with your mom, but then again , he was going to die anyway from Cat Noir's cataclysm, you should have seen it, the guys body was literally crumbling and throwing up coal and ash, he was in the worst kind of pain imaginable, but that has nothing to do with you so your good. So yeah, he made his wish and had the entire universe destroyed and rebuilt so he could give you the life your mom wanted, but no one but me knew that, until I told you that is. I wasn't going to tell you this cause I thought it would be to much for you and cause I didn't want to totally ruin your entire now peaceful and happy life where your finally allowed to be free, have all your close friends and family, and think your dad was not a complete monster. Anyway that's pretty much it, have a rad summer!

Love,

-Marinette

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carolmunson · 2 years

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sweet you rock, sweet you roll

welcome to 1990 where our besties are still on the early side of their lil’ love journey. for those that are new here, i use the name ‘Stella’/'Stella Rink’ as a fill in for 'Y/N’, so don’t get thrown off if you see it. it’s still a 'reader’ fic. cw: swearing, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receving), kissing, touching, honestly some of the cutest shit i’ve ever written, daddy kink mention if you squint, two people being in love with each other, fluff, smut, fluffy smut. sort of casual dominance but not really? he just likes to do stuff for her. —

“No, can’t go there,” Eddie’s voice sounded a little tinny over the phone, but happy to talk to you just the same. You’d been on two dates already, planning the third after a three week hiatus while you went on a press tour. Now you were both back in California, and he’d been itching to see you again. “Why can’t you go to Rappaport? Not like the food or something?” you ask, looking at the list of restaurants your assistant brought you. “Oh no, like, I can’t go there,” he urged, “I’m banned.”

“Oh,” you say, “So definitely not Rappaport then. How’s Sorrelli’s sound?” “Banned.” “Deltas?” “Banned.” “Rain Bar?” “So banned that I can’t even be on the block, sweet thing.” “How many places are you banned from?” “Thirteen. At least in Southern California,” he explains, you can tell he’s proud of it.

“Ed…why? Where are we gonna go to dinner?” you asked with a whine.

“Fuck dinner, let’s do something metal,” he says, like you know something metal, like you know the difference between a bass and an electric guitar.

“Like the planetarium?” you ask, it’s a joke and he laughs so hard into the speaker that you have to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Oh Stell, that’s so sick,” he says, “Fuckin’ love the planetarium.”

So you went, in disguise – baseball hats and sunglasses – dressed down. As dressed down as Eddie could be in his metalhead get up. No one called the paps, the science museum employees didn’t jump and squeal when they saw you, you got to just be. You held hands during the presentation, giggling and ‘Ooh’-ing at the projections, laughing when the little kids at the show would shriek and say little kid things to their parents. Eddie would cast glances at you, admiring your face in the blue light reflecting off the 360 screen, he wanted to keep the moment as a photograph in his brain that he could whip out whenever he wanted. You were so happy next to him.

You toured the rest of the place when the show was over, looking at all the telescopes, listening to the tour guides exhibits. Some parents nudged each other, and looked in your direction and as you left a little boy came over to tug at Eddie’s jacket.

“Are you Eddie Munson?” he asked, his front tooth missing.

“Yeah dude, what’s your name?” he said, squatting down to get on his level.

“I’m Chris,” he said, a big smile spreading over his face.

“Hey Chris, how old are you? You just lose a tooth? That’s pretty metal, man,” he smiled, flashing his straight white teeth at him.

“Six!” he said, holding up his hands to show him the number, “The tooth fairy came and everything. She gave me a quarter!”

“A quarter? That’s rad,” he said, fishing into his back pocket for his wallet, “You know something? She gave me another dollar this morning to give to you for having such a cool smile.”

“Chris, you can’t be running off like that,” a guy with bleach blonde hair that hit his chin with a battle vest on that rivaled Eddie’s was jogging up to the little boy, “You’re gonna be the death of me kid, who you talkin’ to?”

The man scooped Chris up, resting him on his arm above his hip, “Dad, it’s Eddie Munson!”

Eddie stood up and nodded to Chris’s dad, “Hey man.”

“Oh shit dude, hey,” he had the same smile as his son, just with all his teeth, “Big fan, holy shit.”

“Big fan of your little dude, here,” Eddie said, “The tooth fairy actually gave me a dollar this morning to give to him, if that’s cool.”

“That’s real cool of you man,” the man said, “Thanks for talkin’ to my boy, takin’ the time.”

“Don’t sweat it, what’s your name?”

“Phil,” the guy beamed.

“Have a sick day, Phil. See ya later, Chris.”

“See ya laterrrr!” Chris called out from over his dad’s shoulder while they walked toward their car. “You’re so good,” you say, nudging his arm, “You’re sweet.”

“Oh no, the jig is up,” he says dramatically, “Now you know how nice I am.” It’s so easy to roll your eyes at his antics, but you can never get yourself to commit to doing it. Your heart fluttered when he reached out to hold your hand to walk back to his car, his ‘84 Mustang SVO – all black. He was so predictable. “Wanna just drive around? I don’t wanna be done hanging out,” he said, opening your door for you. “You gonna drive like you did earlier?” your stomach flipping, remembering all of his fast turns and speeding.

“Nah, I’ll do it nice and slow for ya,” he winked, shutting the door behind you once you got your seatbelt on. “That’s how you like it, right?” he asked, bouncing into his seat. He loved the effect he had on you, watching your cheeks get hot when he got a little dirty. You hadn’t even kissed yet and it was driving him insane, he could barely contain himself when looked at your lips for too long. “Shut your mouth,” you teased, your heart hammering now at his implication. “You know what I’m gonna say,” he said, putting his arm behind your headrest to pull out of the parking lot. “‘Make me’?” you guess. “Okay, well now it’s not a fun hot joke because you actually guessed it,” he huffed, fake exasperation flowing out of him. Once you made it to the highway, he put his hand on your inner thigh intuitively. You were buzzing at his warm touch, his thumb grazing the fabric of your jeans. It was so inadvertent, the hold he had on you, he wasn’t even trying. He was just Eddie.

The sun had gone down while you drove through LA, pulling into a McDonald’s drive through when you both said you were hungry at the same time. “Ed, I can’t,” you said while he pulled into the line, the yellow of the lights outside tinging you both through the windshield. “Angel, you just finished a press tour,” he argued, “I know you haven’t eaten in weeks, get a fuckin’ Big Mac and live a little.” “If my trainer finds out –” “I’ll kick your trainer’s ass. Let me order you some fine cuisine,” he said matter of factly, the car dragging up to the speaker.

“Heyyy, can I get two Big Mac meals, one with no onions and extra pickles, and light ketchup, like whisper of it if you can. The other is fine as is,” he leans out of the window slightly, his shirt riding up showing off his tattoos. If you weren’t drooling over him knowing your exact Big Mac order after only hearing it one time two months ago, you were now. “Anything to drink?” “Uhhh, lemme get a – two diet cokes?” he said, “Actually, fuck that, one diet coke, one regular coke cause she’ll want a sip of the regular one. Medium.” “Anything else, sir?” “And uh,” he looked at the car behind you, two kids and a tired mom in the front seat, “I’ll cover whatever the people behind me are getting.” “Are you sure?” the speaker asked back. “Hundred percent,” he said, “That’s all, thanks.” “I’ll let you know your total at the window, sir,” the speaker said. You ate in the parking lot in the car, watching families and cars walk by – oblivious to the two of you. “Can I have a sip of your–” “Yeah, baby, have the rest,” he said, passing you his regular Coke and taking your diet Coke, popping it in his cup holder. “I don’t want the rest,” you say back, but you know it’s a lie and so does he, so he doesn’t bother fighting you over it.

You ended up back at his place, it was closer and the traffic on the way to yours was brutal. It was very much a rockstar mansion, black and chrome and red all over. Vaporwave elements and neon at every turn, it would’ve been more cool if you were less exhausted. He was jittery when you ended up in his room, like this wasn’t his intention, “Uh, do you want some pajamas or something?” “T-shirt works,” you assure, “Do I get to pick the band?” “Absolutely not,” he says with a shake of his head, “I’ll pick for you.” He rummages through his drawers, fishing out a Black Sabbath ‘75 concert tee and tossing it to you. You tiptoe to the master bathroom to change, stepping out anxiously in just his t-shirt and a pair of mismatched socks. He’s sat on his four poster, now just in his jeans and his t-shirt from earlier – wallet, belt, vest, and shoes discarded elsewhere. When you asked why the bed frame looked so industrial he told you not to worry about it, but the metal loops on the posts gave you a pretty clear idea. He bit his lip when he saw you come out, a vision in his t-shirt with your hair down, your glossy lips tight in an embarrassed smile. You folded your clothes and put them on the bedside table closest to you, climbing onto the bed and sliding against the cool satin to lay on your side. He crawled up the bed to lay across from you, half of your faces hidden by the pillows you were laying on.

“We can watch a movie or something,” he suggests, but your sleepy face steers him away from it. Eddie’s soft gaze lingers on you, a shaking finger skating down the side of your thigh, “We can just stay like this, too.”

He watches your eyes flutter closed and then look back to him through heavy lids, mumbling into the satin pillowcase, “I like this. Bein’ next to you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his ribcage could’ve snapped open, “I like being next to you, too.” He skated his finger back up your thigh, his hand palming the flesh over your hips. Eddie toyed with the hem of his shirt on you, fingering the fabric between his fingers. It had been through the ringer too many times to be worn out in public anymore. It was a thousand times in the washing machine soft, but to him, it wasn’t softer than the skin under it. He saw it all peeking out through the holes in the sleeves and at the neckline – just falling apart. He was falling apart just the same.

“Can I um, can I get closer to you?” his voice sounded like he was back in eighth grade on Valentine’s Day, passing out carnations to the pretty girls and going home with none.

You don’t respond verbally, just shimmying your body over the black satin duvet and lazily swinging your leg over his hip. He let you pull his arm over your waist, his hand falling onto the mattress behind you while the crook of his arm laid snugly between your hips and your ribcage. He brings his hand to splay across your back, tracing shapes between your shoulder blades.

Your noses are just about touching and looking at each other is a little distorted but he still breathes out, almost a whisper, “You’re so pretty.”

“You keep saying that,” you laugh quietly.

“I don’t think I can stop saying it,” he says. It’s quiet and he can tell by the steadiness of your breathing that you’re maybe ten minutes away from falling asleep. America’s Sweetheart in his bed, in his t-shirt, a little angel on his black cloud of satin sheets.

Eddie let his teeth sink into his lip, nervous was an understatement. He filled the small gap between your noses, his eyes closing too, “I really like you, Stell.”

“Hmm,” your soft sleepy moan was comforting, the little smile tugging at your lips made his throat tighten. Maybe you’d only heard him in a dream.

“I really like you, Ed,” you half whisper, stretching your arms and legs and letting them crash back over him, “Big crush.”

“You got a crush on me?” he teased, blushing redder than the bouquet of roses he sent to Chrissy Cunningham for her birthday his Junior Year. Saved up his pay from the auto shop for a month to afford them only to forget to sign the card. Jason saved the day by saying he got them for her, instead.

“Oh yeah,” you smile, “Huge.”

“I have a big crush on you, too,” he pulls you close to him so your chests are touching. The scent of your perfume hitting him in the chest where the butterflies were begging to get out. Eddie takes his hand from your back to your thigh, gently hoisting it up to align your hips with his. He holds his breath when your arm snakes around him too, tied up like balloon strings – like you’d both float away.

“You’re warm,” you say, looking at his lips while the hand that was on your thigh meets your cheek. You can feel his heart hammering under his No Rest for the Wicked '88 Tour t-shirt, as soft as the one he put you in when you said you were getting tired.

“You’re…” his tongue felt too big for his mouth.

“Don’t say pretty, again,” you sleepily tease, “Say something else.”

“Ugh, ya got me, let’s see,” he chuckles, putting his forehead to yours, “You’re…I don’t know Stell, you’re so many things.”

“So…many…things?” you whisper, your lower lip tucking between your teeth.

“Ugh, that was dumb, I’m sorry,” he was embarrassed as soon as he said it, but your eyes perked up from their sleepy state when he did. That teasing glint in your eye that made him feel like a kid on the playground where he got picked first for Ringolevio teams. Hawkins Elementary’s best tagger, fastest runner – shame he didn’t go for the track team – just ran away instead.

“I promise, I’m smooth,” he laughed, letting the hand on your cheek slide further back, a little behind your neck so his thumb rested delicately on your jaw.

“You’re…” he didn’t want to say the love of his life, you’d only been on three dates. How would he even be sure of that? Sure, he felt sure of that, he already called you his wife to his favorite paparazzo – but did you feel sure? He didn’t want to scare you away.

He leaned his head back a little to look at you, your features only lit up by the soft glow of the white Christmas lights artfully hung from the ceiling. He hadn’t really outgrown the early twenties male experience of decorating poorly – at least an interior designer had put them up for him.

“You know at the planetarium when they just showed the stars at the beginning? And it sort of feels like you’re suspended in mid-air? Like, in space?” he asked. You nodded back at him, stifling a laugh building in your throat.

“And you can’t believe the whole galaxy is so big around you, but everything is so bright and so exciting and you know you want to go explore it? But it’s sort of scary, right? Cause y'know, you don’t know how much oxygen you have and god, fuck, I’ve never even been to space camp, I’d never get hired to NASA so –”

“You’re rambling, Munson,” your voice is gentle, and his nervous prattling quells when you raise a hand to rake comfortingly through his hair.

“You feel like that, Stell. Like the whole galaxy. You’rebright, and exciting, and funny and I wanna learn everything about you,” his voice is almost pleading, like he’s asking for an invitation to explore, “But y'know, it’s sort of scary 'cause you’re just so – you’re really it.”

“I’m scared, too,” you admit shakily, your hand matching his behind his neck, your thumb sliding over the barely there stubble on his jaw.

“What? You’re not scared of anything,” he said, searching your face with his big sweet eyes for an answer, “Why’re you scared?”

“'Cause,” you started, becoming a little breathless at his gaze, “No one’s ever looked at me the way you look at me.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart? Everyone’s always lookin’ at you,” he teased, “I’m just some guy.”

“No, Ed. You really look at me,” it made your heart race to admit it, “Like you’re seeing me, and I – no one ever sees me.”

He put his forehead back against yours, your faces back to being distorted and bug like, “Is this what you mean? Am I seeing you like this?” he laughed your noses squished together. Your giggle makes him overwhelmed like he can’t believe he can make you laugh, that you think he’s funny, that you think of him at all.

“You know what I mean,” you say, back to just breathing, nose to nose.

He nods in agreement against your forehead, his eyes closed for a moment while he breathes you in. Your perfume is still putting him in a tizzy, he’d buy you four billion bottles of it if it meant you’d smell like that forever. His heart is still hammering against your chest, you can feel a nervous film of sweat building on the back of his neck.

“I really wanna kiss you,” his words are barely audible, eyes still closed, his full lashes tickling his cheeks, “I’m tryna be good though, y'know. A gentleman.”

“Such a gentleman,” you whisper back slowly while his eyes flutter back open and closed again. You can feel his strong ringed hand press against the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet him. Eddie brushes his lips to yours just barely, ghosting over skin at the corner of your mouth. Electricity was thrumming through him, his chest becoming the most metal drum solo he ever heard. Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her. C'mon Munson don’t be a wimp.

His lips found yours, gentle and timid, warm honey pooled in your stomach at the feeling. You could feel his body tremble while he went in again, his kiss getting more confident, the arm he hid under your pillows snaking out to cup a hand on your other cheek.

Eddie’s mind is just static and the feeling of your lips, the way your hips rocked against his, the softness of your skin. He could’ve guessed that this is how it would be, like he’s known the whole time what your lips would taste like on his. Like they were always meant to be there.

You break away to breathe, looking at him with a heaving chest and pinked tinged cheeks.

“Was that good? W-was that okay?” he asked, catching his own breath, the heat on his body radiating higher and higher.

“More than okay,” you gasp back. Your heart matched his in beating, fluttering wildly in your chest. More, more, more, more, more.

“Should we – can I do it again?” he asked, his caution rivaling when he lost his virginity in the back of his van in his senior year. Seventeen and stupid with an old pack of condoms he stole from the gas station.

You don’t answer, just roll your hips so he’s flat on his back on the mattress with your legs on either side of him. Heat burning in both of your stomachs at the change of position. Eddie can’t think to keep his hands to himself while one arm snakes around your waist and the other one holds your back so you stay pressed flat against him.

The rest is hot breath and teeth and tongue, Ed’s gentle hands brushing over his t-shirt on your body, snaking it under to stroke the skin of your back.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles into your lips, “I’m scared I’m gonna hurt you.” He knows he means it in more than one way, he hopes you don’t notice.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” you say into the next kiss.

“I want to be gentle,” he says, pulling away, “I wanna show you how that feels.”

You blush at him remembering that you complained that other guys you’d been with had always been so stifiling. So focused on their own pleasure, on seeing America’s sweetheart with their dick in her mouth, on showing you off. A trophy to be won, a PR stunt to be had, a body to be masturbated into. No one ever took their time, no one ever even bothered to ask.

You thought he wasn’t listening the first time you had dinner, but he was focused on tucking away every single word you said so he’d never forget it.

“At least until next time,” he smirked, “’M sure I’ll find some other things to show you.”

“Oh, so there’s gonna be a next time?” you tease, sliding your hands from his face to his hair.

“If you’ll have me,” he shrugged, his voice getting playful, “I’d love to be considered.”

“I’ll definitely consider it,” you smiled, sharing a breath with each other before your mouth reaches for him. You let your hips slide over the ever growing bulge in his jeans, savoring the friction against the heat between your legs. A little gasp popping out at the feeling of his hands quickly gripping your hips to steady them.

“Eaassyy,” he hissed out, holding back a breathy groan, “Go slow.”

“I think it would be more fun if you didn’t have these on,” you giggled, sitting up and back on the tops of his thighs, tugging at his belt loops.

“Stella,” his voice comes out with an exasperated edge, “I didn’t – I don’t want you to think that this is the why I invited you back here.”

“I know, Ed,” you said, “It’s okay.”

“Like I didn’t want to just bring you home and take you to bed, y'know? It was just gonna be a long drive back to yours.”

“Eddie, stop, I don’t think you had a master plan or anything,” you put your hands on his chest, your hair falling forward over your own. You looked at each other for a beat, both of you mulling it over.

“If they come off it’s like…that’s it,” he laughs, putting the heels of his hands over his eyes.

“I can’t believe I just told Stella Rink not to grind too fast on my dick,” he scolds himself with a cheesy grin, “Every man in America would literally die to be me right now.”

“Y'know I have a really big following in Budapest, too,” you laugh back, “If you’d believe it.”

He sits up to meet you with a kiss, “I believe it.”

“I think I’m the first girl you’ve ever told to slow down,” his heart pangs a little when you say it. You are the first girl he’s ever told to slow down.

“Not every day I have Andromeda in bed with me,” he mutters, maneuvering you off of him while pulling at his belt. He gets off the bed to peel his jeans off, standing there in his black boxer briefs, a sheen in the fabric glinting in the low light. His pulse throbs in his throat while he takes his shirt off, anxious if you’ll still like him without any clothes. He was running a little thinner these days, coming back from a particularly rough time with some friends in low places – he didn’t tell you how long he’d been clean. He didn’t tell you anything at all. You sat on your knees on the mattress, satin sheets sliding under you, taking him in. Every inked tattoo flashing harsh against his fair skin, the hair on his stomach trailing down behind black nylon. The veins on his arms protruded down to his hands where his rings sparkled. His soft pink lips slightly parted while he reached up to shake his frizzed curls out. “Wow,” your eyes are glassy and round while you look at him, your body pins and needles as he steps to the edge of the bed. Eddie pulls you in, sucking in your bottom lip before trailing kisses down your jaw. You hiss when he gets the base of your neck, your knees parting under you. “Right there?” he asked into your skin, his tongue slipping over that spot again. You can feel his confident smirk against your collar bone. “Mhm,” you whine, “R-right there.” Eddie tugs the neckline of the shirt to the side to leave soft kisses on your shoulder, the other hand smoothing over the curve of your waist. “You can take it off,” you blurt out. He pulls away from your shoulder, looking at you like you just told him he was playing Madison Square Garden for the first time. “Your shirt? My shirt?” he asked, his voice cracking, “I mean, the shirt you’re wearing?” He swallowed hard when you nodded and reached for the hem, gathering the worn fabric up over your arms. Your hair flounced back down, messy but somehow still in place. He kept the shirt in his hands while he looked at you, holding his breath. “Ed, you’re…” you suddenly felt self-conscious, his eyes lingering too long to just see your body. His gaze was pouring into you, “You’re giving me that look again.” He blinked and shook his head, letting out a sharp exhale through the mouth, “Baby, you’re – you’re perfect.”

“No one’s perfect, Ed,” you blush, your whole body burning. “No, no, I think you’re being modest,” he says, gently guiding you to lay back on the bed again. The shirt you were wearing had been forgotten, discarded on the floor. He placed himself between your legs, taking one of your arms to kiss just above your wrist, the crook of your arm, your bicep – he took his time, flicking his gaze down to you with each one. He put your arm down, caging you in with each of his arms on the side of you, leaning down to kiss the top of your chest. Sloppy and wet, leaving spit in their wake, his hair tickling over your breasts.

Eddie couldn’t hold back a moan when he let his tongue slide between them, a hand reaching to softly massage one. Your whine made his eyes roll back when the rough pad of his thumb slid over your nipple, back and forth, watching the other one peak in time. His lips lingered over it, looking at you almost to ask if it was okay, you nodded feverishly. His tongue swirled and flitted over the nub of skin, smiling as he heard your first quiet ‘oh god’ fall from your mouth. He’d soothed you while you squirmed underneath him, moving from your breasts to your sternum, down to your stomach, your pelvis. Eddie’s tongue and lips only stopping to whisper soft little nothings into your skin like ‘you’re so perfect,’ and ‘be patient, baby’.

He got to your underwear and paused, on his knees on the mattress between your legs. Eddie let his hand run over your thigh, dipping his fingertips down to the soft inside flesh. You shivered.

“Is it okay if these come off?” he asked, fingers exploring from your thigh to the tops of your panties.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay,” you turn red at the question, no one had ever asked you that before. You were never really given so much choice. He was slow about sliding them off your body, watching them flow down your thighs and calves at the guide of his hands. Once they were making friends with your discarded t-shirt on the floor, he looked back up at you.

You cross your legs, nervous and excited for what he might do next. It felt good to not know, to let him take the lead. He touched you exactly how you liked to be touched, like he’d been studying it for years. You watched him make a mental note of every little gasp or whine you let out, every involuntary shiver.

His hands wrapped around your ankles, uncrossing your legs and putting them back on either side of him. He hoisted your legs up from under your knees, slowly parting the limbs until they were splayed out like butterfly wings. Childlike excitement bubbling in his chest, opening the biggest present from under the tree. There you were, your puffed up lips parting just slightly, the sticky sound of them separating over slickness whispering in the room.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, a pot of honey to a bear, he’d never had so much restraint in his life, “Fucking beautiful.”

You blush, you don’t know if you’ve stopped blushing, your hands immediately going up to cover your face. You feel his finger trace over the manicured patch of hair between your legs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t wax,” you mumbled behind your palms, “I didn’t think we were gonna…I didn’t think you were gonna see it tonight.” “Sorry you didn’t wax?” he asked, your eyes peeking out through your fingers. He’s grinning down at you, his eyebrows quirk, he can’t believe you’d apologize, “I’m a grown man, Stell.”

“Let me see your face,” he said, “Wanna watch you, watch me.” “You’re so bad,” he sees your smirk while you say it, your hands coming down flop next to your head. “What? I like an audience,” he shrugged with a wink, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. His salivary glands are working double time while your hips move slowly underneath him. Eddie lets out a soft hum when your thighs twitch, his lips pressing more sloppy kisses against the soft and plush flesh. You can feel his breath at the crease of your leg to your groin, biting your lower lip while a soft desperate mewl shoots out of you. “I’ll get there, I’ll get there,” he teases, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, “I take it I don’t have to ask if this is okay?” “It’s so okay, Ed,” you huff, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him down the slope of your body. Eddie’s flat on the mattress on his stomach, propped up on his own elbows so he can push your thighs back and out. The guitar pick on his necklace dangling dangerously close to your entrance. He lets his tongue stripe up one lip, a huff of breath left at the top, your hips jumping at the feeling. He’s slow, licking up the other, ducking out of your hand reaching out to put his face between your legs. “So impatient,” he chides, “No wonder your assistant thinks you’re a nightmare.”

You let out a laugh, your head falling back and exposing your neck – he thinks he might love you like this. You might be the person he loves the most.

Eddie waits for you to look back down at him before giving in to you. You could’ve sworn those big brown eyes were magnetic with the way your gaze snapped to his. He kissed the fleshy part of your thigh again before finally sliding his tongue in a flat stripe between your folds, lingering over your clit but not touching it.

The gasp you let out made his head swim, ‘more of that’ he thought. His tongue flicked over your clit just once, your thighs twitching again, desperate. Tears wet your eyes as the anticipation built in your stomach, your chest feeling hot. “Please more,” you whined out, it came out a little more pathetic than you hoped, “Don’t tease, s’not fair.”

“Sorry, angel,” he smirks up at you, cockines falling into his voice, “Not polite to play with your food, huh?” You shook your head no, your mouth falling open at his tongue going back to work. Soft and slithery, you could feel him exploring you, dipping inside you to drag your fluids up and around while you just got wetter beneath him.

“Oh that’s – that feels so good,” you drawl out, his lips suctioned loosely over the bud of your clit switching agonizingly between sucking and licking, fluttering and vibrating while your walls clenched around nothing. “Can I use my fingers?” he asks, fingertips trailing your inner thigh, “Make you feel even better.” “Yes,” you rasp out, shaking on your elbows, knowing you weren’t going to last much longer. With his tongue still working your clit, you barely register his ringed finger teasing your opening until the first thick knuckle presses past your walls. “Oh fuck,” you hiss through gritted teeth. He wasn’t looking up at you anymore, eyes closing while his finger disappeared into your entirely, curving upwards to toy with your g-spot. He was completely in his own world where it was just him and your pussy, the sound of your moans, and the way your hips bucked against his unrelenting mouth and fingers.

“‘M gonna cum,” you pant while his ring finger meets his middle finger inside of you, stretching you out. You can’t believe how full you feel from just the two of them alone. “Oh baby, I know,” he breathes against your thigh, “I want you to.” “Wanna cum – ooh! mmm – with you inside me,” you beg him. He’s suddenly stupid after hearing your admission - with you inside me, with you inside me, with you inside me - ringing in his ears on a loop. His fingers slide slowly out of you and go to the mattress where he presses himself back up onto his knees. “You’re sure you want to? I know we’re in the moment,” he said, sliding his hands comfortingly up and down the sides of your thighs, “I don’t want you to feel like that’s what I want, so you have to.” “I want to,” you say, breathless and empty feeling, “I want you.” He maneuvers you, propping all the pillows up nice and fluffy and placing you over them, just your lower half down on the mattress. The rest of you on a mine of goose down feathers and black satin. Eddie’s next kiss is deep and wanting, hands immediately cupping your cheek and wrapping around the back of your neck. Your hands find his boxer briefs and he swats them away while breaking the kiss, “Again with the impatience Stell, your assistant must hate you.” Even his mischievous smile is endearing while he teases you, hopping quickly off the bed and sliding his underwear off. You can’t help the bulge in your eyes when you see it for everything it is – and its fucking big. “Yeah, yeah, the rumors are true, whatever,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. If there was anything you knew about Eddie before you met him was that every tabloid rag in America would have an exposé from an ex girlfriend or lover that said something along the lines of ‘Awful guy, huge dick.’

“Oh-kay big shot,” you tease back, while he climbs back on the bed between your legs, “Reel it in there.” He hits that spot on your neck again with his tongue and your back immediately arches, a soft and satisfied purr coming from his chest. He pulls at your hips, dragging you further down the mattress, the tops of your thighs kissing your chest. “You ready?” he asks while guiding the swollen tip of his cock to just outside your entrance. “Are you?” you ask gently. “Very,” he says, stroking himself long and slow, “I know you’re gonna feel as good as you taste.” The sentence comes out of him primarily and gutturally. Your walls flutter while he shifts closer, just the soft skin of the tip pushing into you at first. You watch his face as he pushes in slowly, his mouth hanging open with a huff, his head tilting forward on a hinge.

“God, fuck,” Eddie huffed into your hair while falling down against your chest, pushing into you to the hilt. He laces fingers with yours, pressing your hands into the mattress while he thrusts again, “Feel’s so fucking good, sweet thing.”

“Pussy like fucking velvet, Jesus,” his words coming between ragged breaths, whining, The grinding of his hips finding a slow and steady rhythm inside you.

You could barely talk, just choked gasps and breathy moans pouring out of your mouth while he rocked into you, your body barely accommodating his size. White blinding your eyes while the curve of his cock met the edge of the sensitive spongey button inside of you, over and over.

“Ooh, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” the words peppered out of you desperately, your hips rolling in time with his slow thrusts. Your sweat blending between your chests, leaving no space between you, “Just like that, Eddie.”

His face slacks, his brain nearly turning off at the sound of you moaning his name, coming back to reality quickly while his lips find your neck. He lets go of one of your hands to prop himself on a forearm, looking down at you, stealing a kiss as you moan into his mouth.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, a question he normally says with a mocking confidence when he’s backstage making groupies scream into his dressing room couch. Tonight it’s genuine and soft because he actually wants to know. Is he making you feel good? Do you feel what you’re doing to him? Can you tell he’s falling in love with you?

“It feels…huhn…it feels,” your breathy gasps answer for you.

“Don’t hate me for saying it sweetheart,” he starts with a smirk, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “But you’re so pretty like this.” “God, can I be anything else?” you giggle, a little moan squeaking out while his thrusts quicken. “You could um,” he gulped and swallowed, slowing down his pace to a stop, still staying inside you, “You could be my girl? If you want?”

You don’t reply at first and you can feel an embarrassed heat flash through his body. His mouth starts and doesn’t stop, barely breathing between words, “Totally get it if you just wanna keep hangin’ out though. If you hate labels, I hate labels – right, baby? Y’know, I wasn’t planning on asking under these circumstances – was gonna maybe ask on our next date. Not that I’m assuming there would’ve been a fourth date but like, I figured maybe you might want to see me again. I definitely would’ve wanted to see you again. Thinking about it now, literally five seconds later, I probably should’ve waited. Holy shit, I’m such an asshole – who does that? Who asks that while they’re fucking? I mean Jesus Christ, talk about manipul –” “Hey,” you say, putting your pointer and middle finger on the center of his lips, “You’re rambling again.” You lean up to meet him, taking your fingers away and replacing them with your lips. He involuntarily starts his rhythm again, sliding in and out of you with ease, feeling your heels bounce against his lower back. You quietly look at each other and your breath hitches, not just from how good he feels inside you, but from that look. You might love him, you might be falling in love with him. You might be so terrified of him that you can’t breathe, that you can’t think straight. Maybe he’s the best of the worst guys you could be with – or maybe he was the best of the best. Maybe you’re being fooled by his messy hair and big brown eyes, the dimples in his cheeks when he smiles at you. A charming little scorpion that’s waiting for you to give him a ride on your back across the river. Maybe he’s just like the snake tattooed down the right side of his ribs. “Sorry, ‘m just nervous,” he said, “You make me so nervous Stell. I feel like a fuckin’ teenager when you’re around.”

Nevermind. He’s an angel. He buries his face in your neck, returning to his steady pace. You weren’t expecting him to be so vocal this way, grunting and moaning while he fucked you. You’d expected mean taunting words, you expected him to mock you, to make you tell him how good he makes you feel. To be honest, as hot as it was to hear him in your ear while he pleasured you, you sort of wanted to know more about the authentic Eddie Munson sexperience.

Eddie pushed off you and on his haunches, angling your hips further back with his hands on the backs of your thighs. A high moan peeled through you when he pushed into you again, hitting every spot he could with his cock, he felt it too. Your moan reverberated back to you, bouncing off the walls and the ceiling, ringing in both of your heads. He was fucking you slow, but still managing to fuck you dumb. “Feels so good inside me, daddy,” you whimper out, not even knowing where that name came from. You’ve never called a man that in bed before. Eddie’s voice and eyes darken, his little devilish smirk passing across his face, “Careful with that name, baby. Don’t want him to come out too soon. Daddy isn’t nice like me.” You turn bright red but you aren’t sure if it’s from embarrassment or because you desperately want to know how not nice he can get, “I never say that, oh my God.” “That’s okay,” he said, hips finding a quicker rhythm now that he knows where you’re at, “You can meet him next time, yeah?” “Yeah,” you whine out, your voice getting small. “You want it a little harder?” he asks, gentle, gentle, gentle. “Mhm,” you say, eyes glassy up at him. He knows you’re at his mercy now, fucked silly, needy for it. He wants to slide into his regular routine – flip you over and pound you out with your ass up in the air, begging and crying for more. But no. You’re different, he wants to see you cum, he wants to see you love it. He wants to watch you love what he does to you. Eddie keeps his hands on the backs of your thighs, his thrusts getting harder and faster. Your head immediately pushes back into the pillows under you, barely able to contain yourself at the feeling. “Ah fuck, I’m close,” he hisses through heavy breaths, sweat sliding down his face from under his hair. You can hear the clap of his balls and hips against your ass, feel the grip on your thighs, the sound of his ragged chest. The euphoric slide of his cock slamming into you, pace getting erratic as he got closer to the edge. You’d been teetering on your orgasm since he pulled his fingers out of you, riding the coast of it while he made love to you. The coil tight in your belly close to snapping as he looks down at you, hungry and loving – that look. That look. He leans back down against you, knowing you need a little extra coercion to make it over the edge. Eddie’s hair tickles your chest while he gets back to the base of your neck, right at your favorite spot, his teeth drag gently over it. “Oh!” you cry out while he sucks up part of the skin, his tongue swirling, teeth gently coming down on it. The coil snaps, sending you reeling – you don’t know if your loud ‘Oh, God!’ is you moaning his name or not, but he’s moaning yours in your ear.

“That’s it Stell, cum for me. So good f’me, baby, so good…” You can feel hot ropes of his cum being let out inside you, warming you up from the inside out. He stays inside while you both come down, covered in sweat, heaving breathing into each other.

Eddie brings his head up, heart pounding like it was before he kissed you, and rests it gently against your forehead. He nuzzles your nose against his, coming in for a soft kiss. His voice when he speaks is small and innocent, almost boyish: “Can I keep you?”

You nod against his forehead, both of your eyes closed. He wraps his arms around you while rolling off to the side, spooning up behind you. He wants to scream at your nod, to do a victory lap, to call Wayne and tell him that he’s dating the biggest movie star of the early 90s. “Wanna be your girl, Munson,” you say sleepily, snuggling back into him. “You are my girl, Rink,” he murmurs, sleep sneaking into his voice, too, “Gonna be my wife one day.” “Gonna be your wife,” you repeat back. “Gonna be my wife,” he says again, with a soft kiss on your shoulder. The glow of the room comes back to you when you open your eyes, you know you should get out of bed and clean up – and you will. But for right now, this is nice. To be held by a maybe scorpion on a ride across the river, the sweetest boy you ever met who is banned from 13 restaurants in southern California, an angel with horns under his halo. Your boy. His girl. Gonna be his wife one day.

#rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson rockstar au #eddie munson au

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eerie-candid · 7 months

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Can we have some random facts about each one of the show stoppers? (Also can I give them all a hug?)

Bad Clown:

Mugs people after every show.

Always has at least 10 knives on him at all times, even that one time he only wore a swim-suit.

Frustratingly good at performing. He relishes in the spotlight because it boosts his ego.

Sad Clown:

Has SEVERE insomnia and asthma.

He gets emotional a lot, which is the reason they started to call him Sad Clown in the first place. He isn't a fan.

Gets stage fright so he’s never in the main spotlight of their shows.

Mad Clown:

Is the one who paints everyone’s makeup for them.

Also has severe insomnia so he stays up late with Sad clown to keep him company.

Gets in constant confrontations, as he thinks everything is an insult or a diss.

Rad Clown:

His sunglasses are prescription.

Has wheelies on for shoes exclusively.

Uses words like “dude,” “radical,” and “broski.”

Dad Clown:

Exclusively tells Dad jokes.

Hard of hearing.

Is always late because he’s bad at gauging time.

Plaid Clown:

Can’t smile very well.

Over-plucks his eyebrows.

Sweats excessively, which is why he wears so much plaid so it hides the sweat stains.

And yeah you can but they'd likely pick-pocket you

#headcannons #oc #original character #slashers #horror #slasher fandom #slasher oc #clowns #headcanon #the show stoppers

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franklespine · 2 months

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That episode where Chase's dad just randomly shows up at the hospital is just like wow kill me but its the final conversation he has with House that is just UGH. The fact that House is ABOUT to tell him that his dad has cancer (that he's not telling him about), he goes 'I know you hate your dad-' but Chase interrupts him and is like I don't hate him, I've just learnt it is easier just not to care. He's reached out to his dad so many times as a kid only to be left alone that it's just easier to pretend he's not affected by it anymore - 'I've given him enough hugs, he's given me enough disappointments'. And that's what does it. House literally had the words in his mouth about to go yeah your dad's gonna die in four months how rad haha, but after hearing that Chase actually doesn't hate him, he just can't do it and backs down. AND THEN despite the fact that Chase thought he had given his dad enough hugs, enough second chances, he STILL goes to see him as he leaves, asks if he has time for a drink, and hugs him. There's still a piece inside of him hanging on after all.......... that's about to get blown up in his face when his dad dies in s2.........

Its the fact that this is the last hug they'll ever get - and his dad KNOWS this, just the way he sinks into Chase for a moment - DEATH PENALTY TO HOWEVER MADE THAT CREATIVE DECISION. It's the fact that he will never get the chance to reconcile his relationship with his dad, it's going to remain broken and unfulfilled forever.

This stupid stupid show omg these doctors should not be this mentally unstable.

Not saying I would punch out a guy who has cancer but Chase's dad..................................

#house md #house md 1x13 #Robert chase #eugh #pain #PAIN #Chase being House's punching bag and STILL sucking up to him the most vs his daddy issues - GO #all these characters having some history

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maximumwrites · 1 year

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anytime i check out sugar daddy diavolo tags, its typically hella sexual (which like- i totally get LMAO) but after learning about sugaring a bit more, my brain has been thoroughly rotting about platonic sugaring with diavolo.

✤as everyone already knows, diavolo loves inviting mc round for tea and such

✤but then one day, when mc complains lightly about being low on grimm after a bet with mammon, diavolo offers to give mc some money, citing the whole prince-bottomless-wallet and if youre like me you’ll refuse

✤ sooner than expected, hes inviting mc for dinner rather than the usual tea

✤immediately you can tell somethings up with how excited he's acting

✤”Mc! you look stunning- as usual- I invited you here because I have a proposition for you...”

✤He was so excited to explain his human research™

✤”i don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable around me, and if you're not interested, then we can go back to what we were doing before” please get him to stop before he embarasses himself

✤if you do end up agreeing then he is immediately discussing boundaries

✤in all honesty, he really is just looking for a shoulder and an ear, and if they requires sponsoring then he is more than willing

✤once you finish discussing he is wanting to get to know even more about you: past relationships, past friendships, relationship with money, family, your life back in the human world, your friendships in devildom, please tell him EVERYTHING

✤he's a bit more closed off, but the more you guys go out, the more he’s willing to open up and maybe talk about his dad

✤being his sugar baby consists of:

~hanging round the DLC whenever the both of you are avaliable

~dates in all the hot spots of the devildom

~days off from RAD whenever you request

~hella gifts ESPECIALLY jewelry (i might actually go into this further in another)

~because hes always usually cant go on trips often, he’ll definitely sponsor much needed getaways for you and whomever you wish to accompany you

~and LOTS of dinners

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

i lost motivation for this halfway through in case you couldnt tell and i also havent written in... *checks previous posts* ever...so YEAH if anyone can even see this than ily <3

#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #om #omomtrta #obey me imagines #diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #diavolo imagine #obey me oneshot #diavolo oneshot

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fablesrose · 6 months

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S2 Ch 4 - The Beantown Bailout Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: The team is reunited in Boston and help a father-daughter pair with the mob.

Words: 5498

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up a little earlier than I normally do, got dressed and walked across the hall. I entered with my spare key and started making breakfast and coffee.

After the whole deal with Blackpoole, Nate was looking for a fresh start, and he decided that that would look like living close to me in Boston. He stayed with me for a few weeks while he got his stuff in order, and then the condo across the hall opened up. He decided to stay close. I didn’t mind, it meant I could keep an eye on him, make sure he was doing okay, especially since he stopped drinking, almost cold turkey.

I heard him walk down the stairs, “what are you doing here?

I looked up to see him in a well pressed suit, “well, it’s your first day at this new job isn’t it?”

I finished up the breakfast I was making right as the coffee maker indicated it was done. I handed them both to him at the counter before dishing myself a plate.

“Thank you, y/n.” He started to sip on his mug, “Do you have work going on today?”

“I’m vetting possible clients, but no projects, why?”

“Just curious. Uh, Sophie has a musical tonight, here in Boston. Do you wanna come with me?”

“Sure, sounds fun.” I halfway entertained the idea of everyone else being there, but the chances of that were slim. But imagining seeing Eliot again was still a bit fun.

He left shortly after, I finished cleaning up and returned to my own apartment. It was only a few hours later when I heard the door across the hall slam closed. I quickly called Nate.

“Yeah?”

“Was that you that just slammed your door closed?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing back already? It’s not even lunch time.”

“I quit.”

“What?”

“It was just too much.”

I sighed, “Okay.”

“I also helped this girl and her dad get out of a car wreck.”

“What?!”

“I’m a bit worried about them, something seems off. I might go visit them in the hospital again sometime…”

“Okay…”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.”

The things this man gets himself into…

He knocked on my door that evening, walking in when I called him. I looked at the outfit he was wearing and looked at my own to see we were both in a nicer casual.

“Cool, let me grab my keys.”

We arrived at the theater with plenty of time to spare. As we looked around the opening foyer I heard a voice at the front desk.

“Parker. No, just one name.”

I touched Nate’s arm to point out that Parker was here. Soon as we looked around, I saw that the rest of the crew had come as well. We greeted each other before Sophie came out and said hi.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Hardison commented to Sophie.

“You know, not as well as I act, but yeah.”

Hardison and Parker made a bit of horrified eye contact that left me confused. Hardison saw this and shook his head as if to say, ‘don’t ask.’

There was an awkward moment between Nate and Sophie before Sophie insisted on us all meeting up afterwards before she dashed off.

I guess it was time for the show.

It was awful, and that’s all that needs to be said.

We all went to McRory’s pub after the show. Sophie was distraught as Parker rad some of the reviews.

“Never before has a production of The Sound of Music made me root for the Nazis.”

I cringed a bit in sympathy.

Eliot sat down at the bar with Nate, he was surprised that he had stopped drinking, “how do you know about this place then?”

“We rent condos upstairs,” I told him.

“Condos? Plural?”

I looked at Nate, “we each needed our own space.”

Eliot only nodded.

Sophie stopped Parker, “No there is nothing you can say to make me feel better.”

“I know what can make you feel better. We should steal something.”

Nate opposed.

“Yes, we could do it together!” Sophie finally seemed excited.

“I like this. Get right back up on the bike.” Eliot commented

“Bike of crime,” Parker added.

“Didn’t you earlier tell me how great your new lives were?” Nate asked.

“Yeah, well, I stole the Hope Diamond.” Parker said, “Then I put it back. Yeah, because I was bored. Didn’t care.”

“I spent three days hacking the White House email. No buzz.”

“See?” Sophie pointed.

“But we are doing some pretty hinky stuff in Pakistan. Hinky…”

“Look, I’m miserable. They’re miserable…” Sophie said to Nate before asking Eliot, “Okay, what have you been doing the last six months?”

He hesitated, “I was in Pakistan…”

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged.

“You… You see what you did?” Hardison asked Nate, “You took the world’s best criminals, hitter, hacker, grifter, thief. You took us and you broke us.”

“No, no. I… What I did, I taught you how to help people. That’s all.” Nate argued.

“Exactly.”

“This is the problem with being the good guy! It gets under your skin.” Eliot explained.

I just took a sip of my mild drink, watching this all happen.

“Look Nate,” Sophie said, “you have to have some poor little lost soul somewhere who needs a little extra legal aid.”

“Look, we agreed that we would just move on.”

“Yeah, but… we’re thieves!”

“Not me! Look, it was great. It was fun, it was wonderful while it lasted, but, you know, I was drunk for most of the time to be honest with you-”

“But you were good,” Eliot interrupted.

“You were the best.”

“We were the best.”

I smiled over my glass, watching them wear Nate down. This was good for him, they were good for him.

“Listen, I owe all of you, and I’m very proud of what we did, I really am, but… I got my life back and I intend to keep it that way.”

My smile fell. I tried to stare him down, but Nate was pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“And I am not a thief.” He stood from the bar and walked out, “it was great to see all of ya. Good night.”

I stood as well, “I’m sorry about him, maybe stick around town for a while? It was nice to see you guys again.”

“Don’t worry about it y/n. It was good to see you too.” Eliot said before everyone else said their goodbyes.

I caught up to Nate on the stairs.

“‘I got my life back?’ Nate, you don’t know what to do with yourself anymore!”

“Y/n, I’m going straight. I’m gonna get a job, a normal job! I’ll figure it out.”

“You better, because these guys saved you better than I ever could. Don’t throw them away.”

He looked at me, “Okay.”

“Okay, I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late.”

He waved me off as I stepped into my apartment. I contemplated working a bit more, but decided against it and went straight up to my room and crashed.

The next day I felt bad for what I said. I looked at the clock and figured he would probably be up by now, even if he quit his job. I walked across the hall, but could hear lots of things happening inside Nate’s apartment.

I knocked on the door and gently pushed it open, sticking my head in. “Nate?”

“Get out of there!”

“What?” I saw Nate was on the couch and he was looking towards the kitchen. I stepped in further to see that the whole crew was there in Nate’s apartment.

Nate looked over to me and waved me in further into the apartment as if to say, ‘fine, come on in.’

“What are you guys doing here? Get all this stuff out of here, you’re planning something I know it. Come on, get out of my house, out!” Nate got off the couch and started trying to shew the team away.

“Someone tried to kill you last night.”

“What?!”

Everyone snapped their heads over to me with a slightly guilty expression.

“I’m fine.”

Eliot turned back to Nate, “What do you want us to do man? You want us to just blow town, let you figure it out?”

“Yes, actually, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Nate.” I gave him a pointed look, “what did we talk about last night? If someone tried to kill you then we’re gonna need some help.”

“We’re nothing y/n, you’re not getting involved with this.”

“Bullcrap, I’m a grown ass woman, and you obviously are acting like a child!”

Sophie interjected, not letting that go too far, “We found the phone number of the hospital in your pocket, Nate. We know what you did. We know you saved that guy’s life and the little girl, and we’re all really proud of you!”

I sat next to Eliot at the table, Parker on my other side, dressed like a nun, as he applauded Nate.

“Look, nobody else is gonna help that guy and his little girl, okay?” Hardison said seriously, “that’s what we do, we help people.”

Nate just continued to make coffee.

“By the way, I compared Sophie’s description of your attacker to the accident footage from the security camera.” He typed away at his laptop, “Do you realize that on average, people are caught on security cameras thirteen times a day?”

“That’s crazy,” I commented and Hardison nodded at me.

“It is crazy, but we can track him…” He trailed off, “I lost him in this.”

I peaked over the table to see the man on camera take papers out of the briefcase he stole from the man in the crash and dash off.

“Yeah, well, I found this empty briefcase belonging to Matt Kerrigan at that intersection” Eliot told Nate who was becoming more interested.

“It’s, uh, Boston Commonwealth Bank right?”

“No,” Nate corrected, “First Independent Boston. That’s where Kerrigan works, come on.”

I smiled, Hardison seeming to have the same thought as me.

“Who’s this guy?” Eliot pointed at the laptop, and I followed where he was pointing.

“You don’t know, do you? It’s Kerrigan’s boss, that guy, Leary.” Nate brushed off the stares he got from the crew.

“Well, who’s the other guy?”

“It’s not clear enough for facial recognition.”

“Well the problem is, those two cats went down to the safety deposit boxes.”

Parker stood, “which is the only room in every bank with absolutely no cameras.”

“Which means we up, baby,” Hardison stood and finished his priest outfit to fit with Parker’s nun. “They tried to kill Kerrigan for what was in the briefcase… We’re gonna steal it back.” He continued as the two of them left.

Eliot laughed, “She’s dressed that way because she’s doin’ a con…”

“What, you thought she was dressed like a nun for no reason?” Nate asked.

“It’s Parker,” Eliot pointed out.

“I didn’t question it either Nate,” I raised my hand. Eliot pointed at me appreciatively.

“Well, fair enough,” Nate conceded. “Okay, I want you out of my house, out.” Naate continued after a moment. He explained that he was going to get cleaned up and he wasn’t involved with any of it. He wanted everything out of his house.

After he went up stairs I turned to Sophie and Eliot who were still there, “you guys can stay, if you need to hide from him pop over to my place across the hall.” I stood from the table and walked towards the door, “keep me in the loop please, I wanna know what's going on!”

“We will, y/n, thank you!” Sophie called.

I heard Eliot mention something about all of Nate’s sports channels before I closed the door behind me.

It was a few hours later when Sophie called me back over to Nate’s place. I saw that they had really set up shop in his living room, practically begging for his participation. They gave me a quick recap of what happened, Parker and Hardison going to the bank and retrieving the files Kerrigan had, and then Eliot going to the mob’s fake businesses running into some mob people in the process.

Eliot unpacked a duffel, “This is all the stuff I found in the warehouse, in the boxes.”

Clothing and calendars clearly from the ‘80s were tossed around. I laughed as Parker put on a jacket with the largest shoulder pads I had ever seen.

“This stuff hasn’t left the warehouse since the 1980s” Sophie commented.

“I feel like a robot,” Parker swung her arms around while in the jacket.

“Wait, so if these are supposed to be just fake businesses, how come their financials are so squeaky clean?” Sophie asked.

I tilted my head and was about to speak when Nate beat me to it.

“Because they’re fake businesses.” He paused and tried to justify himself a bit before he continued when no one else commented, “Sophie, how do you catch mob guys?”

“Uh, two glasses of Chianti and a story about my grandma in Sicily.”

“How does the government catch mob guys?” He amended.

“Taxes,” multiple people answered.

“Eh, that’s how they got Capone,” Hardison commented.

“That’s how they get everybody,” Sophie added, “they never get you for the crime, they always get you for the taxes. It’s not really fair.”

“So thirty years ago the O’Hares got very smart,” Nate started with his explanation. “You see, they set up all these shell companies: fake sales, fake receipts. They launder all their money through them.”

“And everybody in the family gets a salary,” Hardison realizes. “Yeah, they pay withholding, payroll taxes, pension. It’s all old school.”

“That’s why the businesses are clean,” Eliot adds, “They’re dirty from the inside.”

I found it fascinating how they bounced off each other so easily, it almost seemed like it was rehearsed. Like perhaps they were egging Nate on.

“Well, yeah, if you have a body in the trunk of your car, you’re gonna drive under the speed limit, aren’t you?” Nate explained.

“You know, when you’re sober your metaphors get creepier,” Parker tells him.

“I mean, he’s not wrong though.” Everyone turned towards me and I shrugged.

“But, wait wait,” Hardison interjects, “that still doesn’t explain the last six months of running up bad loans.”

“All from a bank that’s about to close” Sophie mentions.

“Close?” Nate asked. “No, not close. Get bailed out.” Nate stood from where he was perched on his desk and approached us, “Look, we got a banker in the pocket of the mob. Mob takes out bad loans, cleans out the bank, knowing, three days from now, the government’s gonna come along and then, you know, bail the bank out.”

Eliot sat next to me on the couch as Nate stepped to the front of the group as he explained their operation. I smiled at him and how his knee brushed against mine before turning back to Nate.

“I mean, it’s perfect. You know, I don’t even think it’s illegal. It’s…” He paused, looking out the window before turning back to us, “I mean, if we were gonna do this… this job…”

“Just this one job,” Sophie said.

“Yes, just this one… I mean the con you’d wanna do…”

“Hypothetically,” Hardison added.

“Hypothetically, you know, is the turnabout, of course.”

“Ohh, that is a good one!” Sophie cheers.

I looked back and forth from her to Nate. I have never felt so lost.

“You know, it takes five people to do the turnabout,” Eliot mentions.

“That’s true, there's just four of us,” Sophie said.

“And a half,” Eliot glances at me with a shrug, “just saying.”

I smirked as Nate glared at the two of us.

“One more person, hmm,” Parker eggs a bit.

“Yeah, we gotta scare the banker into turning against the mob,” Nate said contemplatively. “Alright. Alright, we’ll do this job, just this one.”

The rest humbly agreed with him, acting as if it were a surprise.

“Hardison, you and Parker, you’re gonna be on the badge,” Nate directed. “Eliot, sheepdog. Sophie-”

“Ice queen!” She completed.

“And I’m the bag man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go call a professional killer who tried to murder me and arrange to meet him in an isolated location.”

I slowly raised my hand.

“You are going to stay here. You’ll be lucky if you get to participate in this one.”

I sighed, “Fair… I guess. Can you tell me what a turnabout con is?”

“All in due time.” He walked off, presumably to make his phone call.

“See that? He did miss us!” Sophie awed.

“More than he’d like to admit, that’s for sure,” I looked at all of them before adding, “but I didn’t tell you that.”

They all smiled and nodded, Hardison making a zipped lips motion.

Everyone got ready for their respective roles, and while I wasn’t involved, they let me out of the apartment to observe, and maybe help a little. I came along with Hardison, Parker, and Eliot. I waited around the corner until Eliot finished his intimidating stare passing by Leary. When he came around the corner, he handed me a few of the mini explosive charges to help place them on the wall of the bank.

“Hey, this detonator, if I’m around the corner, is it still gonna be in range?” Eliot asked Hardison while we walked away.

“Should be. I haven’t worked out all the kinks yet… Sometimes the things just go off,” Hardison answered.

I blanched a bit, “What?”

Eliot stopped him, “Wait, hey. I thought you said this thing was safe.”

“Mostly. Mostly safe. I was very specific. Sometimes the frequencies get messed up.”

“What frequencies, man? Huh? I got these things in my pants,” Eliot scrambled, reaching into his pockets.

“Like, uh, you know, a garage door opener, a car alarm.”

Just then a woman came out of the bank and accidentally set off her car alarm near us. Eliot and I flinched and I became very aware of the few left over explosives in my hand.

I quickly shoved them into Hardison’s hands, “take them.”

Eliot was still digging them out of his pockets when Parker asked Hardison, “what are the odds that Eliot’s crotch will actually explode?”

“Dammit Hardison,” Eliot exclaimed as he walked off.

I cringed in sympathy while Hardison laughed. He called Sophie to get an update. Everything seemed to be going to plan with Nate and Sophie having an in with the mob and we went to meet them back at Nate’s apartment with the exception of Eliot who would stick around for Leary. He would set off the explosives acting like gunshots once he came out of the bank.

Once Nate came back and it was determined he was no worse for wear, he decided he was going to go visit the Kerrigans.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, while I knew he was much better with hospitals now, it didn’t hurt to have someone with him.

He contemplated for a second before nodding.

Once we arrived at the father’s hospital room, we approached the daughter sitting next to him. Nate said hi first and then introduced me to her. I sat next to her with Nate standing on the other side of the bed.

She was fiddling with a necklace she had on, but stopped when she noticed I had noticed, “Nervous habit.”

I nodded, “what is that?”

She picked it up again to look at it, “St. Brigid. My mother’s name. Dad got it for me after she died.”

“So how are you doing?” Nate asked her after a moment.

Her face twisted in disappointment, “They say the accident is his fault.”

“No,” Nate quickly replied, “No, now listen, your dad, he found some papers at work, and he was trying to figure out what they meant, and he got a little too close to something…”

“No, but it’s not his fault. It was my fault," she insisted.

I placed my hand on her shoulder, “No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”

“He said something was bothering him at work. I told him to call the police, and now… now they…” she trailed off before speaking again. “There are wolves in the world. That’s what dad says, ‘be careful, Zoe. There are wolves in the world.’”

Nate nodded and circled the bed to crouch next to her, “He was not wrong.”

She grasped her father’s hand, “so the world’s just like this, huh? Bad people do bad things, and they always get away with it. Nobody stops them.”

I looked at Nate who had the same grim look on his face as I did. We stayed for a little bit longer, but it soon came time to get back.

The plan was coming to its final act. Hardison passed out new earbuds while explaining that they were more comfortable and even better than before. I put one in and realized that they were more comfortable than I remembered them.

“Okay, if this works, our friend Mr. Leary, he goes to the State Police, he runs, he spills his guts. Eliot, make sure he gets there.”

“I’m on it.”

“Wait, Eliot,” Nate called him, looking at me.

He turned back.

“Take y/n with you. Keep her safe, please. She should be good with surveillance.”

I smiled before following Eliot.

Nate grabbed my arm when I passed, “Be careful.”

“I will.”

We didn’t talk much when watching for Leary. We quickly followed when he got in his car and drove off. Everything seemed to be going great at first. Nate was talking to the O’Hares when Leary started making a few wrong turns if he were going to the police.

“Eliot, where is he going?”

He grunted, “I don’t know yet.”

Soon he pulled into the harbor and we quickly swung around to the other side before following on foot.

“Eliot, y/n, is Leary with the cops? We don’t have a lot of room for error,” Nate asked through the comms.

“Uh, slight problem Nate,” I responded.

“Leary drove down to the waterfront, dumped his car. He’s headin’ right for you.” Eliot tucked me behind him when Leary walked past.

“He was supposed to go to the cops.”

“Well then I don’t know what he’s doing,” Eliot responded to Nate before turning to me. “I’m gonna follow him, you go back to the car, I don’t know what’s going on. Stay safe and out of sight from the mob guys.”

I opened my mouth, but didn’t say anything. I quickly closed it and nodded before turning back towards the car we came in. As much as I wanted to help, I was in way over my head here. On the way to the car, there was a group of mob guys approaching. I quickly ducked behind some junk and debris and held my breath as they passed by my hiding spot. I peeked around to see that there was one who stuck around the area of my escape route. Luckily he was far enough away to not notice me, but if I moved too much, or tried to run, that wasn’t guaranteed.

I whispered, hoping Hardison was right that the comm would pick it up, “Eliot, be careful, there's mob guys coming your way.”

“Okay, guys, it’s not O’Hare,” I heard Nate through my comm.

“What?” Sophie asked.

“Uh, no. O’Hare is not the boss is what I’m saying.”

“No. This whole con was built around O’Hare.”

“Ooh, they’re probably gonna shoot Nate in the face,” Parker said.

“Uh, Parker, I can hear you.”

I bit my lip, trying not to make a sound. I kept peeking around to see that the mob guy was still there, just smoking a cigarette leisurely.

Parker apologized as Sophie emphasized our predicament.

“Alright, listen, we’re gonna have to make this one up as we go.”

I listened as Nate talked to O’Hare and Leary, trying to smooth over some wrinkles. I peeked out again to see the guy had finished his cigarette and walked off in the same direction as the previous group. I waited for him to pass and get far enough away before dashing off to the car. Luckily there was nobody else in the way of me getting further from the warehouse. I slipped in the car with a sigh of relief and locked myself in. I eagerly listened to my comm to find out what was going on.

There was some grunting and rustling that seemed to come from Eliot, “Alright, alright!”

“Eliot?” I asked, “Are you okay?”

I only heard an intentional hum in reply before Eliot whispered to someone, “You better know what you’re doing.”

There was a beat before Nate called, “Hey, hey, he’s got a state trooper badge!”

I could hear other people talking, but not what they were saying before Eliot whispered a “woah.”

Then I heard more clearly from O’Hare, “you kill him. I fixed Kerrigan’s breaks, I’m not killing a cop!”

“Look, you screwed up Kerrigan!” Leary replied.

“No, uh, he’s right. You’re right. He’s-” Nate stuttered along before he was cut off by what sounded like gunshots.

I yelled, “Nate? Eliot? Guys, what’s going on?!”

Hardison responded in my ear, “it’s all good, just stay put, we got this.”

Sophie started speaking in character, “has he got a wire? Come on Ford, get with it! Check him for a wire!”

I sighed in relief, they’ve got this.

“Yes, right on it,” Nate responded.

“This isn’t how we do it in Boston,” I heard O’Hare say.

“Really? This is exactly how we do it in London, except we usually use a razor blade.”

I shivered at the connotation, Sophie could be scary while in character.

“No wire… He has his cellphone though!” Nate called.

“Hit redial, see who he called,” Sophie said to Leary once he said there was no speed dial number saved. “Leary, right? Annie Kroy,” Sophie introduced herself, “nice little number with the banks there. It’s a shame the rest of your operation’s a bit of a balls-up.”

I heard someone’s phone ringing before Leary asked, “O’Hare? Why was a cop’s last phone call to you?”

I was confused too, I thought back and Eliot never called O’Hare. I realized though, that Nate was supposed to call O’Hare after Eliot and I left. Nate must have given them his phone instead!

“This is… This is a setup,” O’Hare tried to explain.

“How is this a setup?” Leary asked. “She shot the cop.”

“Yeah, and he’s the one that dialed the phone,” Sophie added.

“You didn’t want us to shoot him either, did you?” Leary accused, “Why, did you know him?”

“It wasn’t like that! Come on, you know I was in this thing from the beginning.”

I smiled hearing them bicker and turn on each other. This team sure does know how to create chaos.

“Why… why would I be involved?”

Leary called for his people to follow him, so I assumed O’Hare ran away.

Eliot stashed the car in a spot where I could see Hardison and Parker peel around the corner towards the warehouse where it sounded like they picked up O’Hare. I listened as they got O’Hare to admit to the bank fraud, Leary’s part in it, as well as the Kerrigan hit.

“Yes!” I cheered, “Hardison, did you record that?”

I heard it played back in my ear as a confirmation.

“Those were the state cops who questioned me!” Leary was back in the warehouse, supposedly with Sophie and Nate.

“Well, do they got any evidence?” Sophie asked.

“No, no, nothing real, just O’Hare’s word against mine.”

“And no documents?”

“No. No, no, I have those. But Kerrigan saw them.”

“And there’s just one problem,” Nate said, “we’re screwed if he wakes up.”

“He won’t,” Leary replied, “Kerrigan’s the last loose end. I’ll take care of him myself.”

“Hey, hey! Whoa, whoa, wait. What about him?”

“Him? Hey, I never touched him. Your fingerprints are all over him. I’ll clean up my mess, you clean up yours.”

I scoffed at how much of a scummy guy Leary was, “Did he really just say that?”

“Afraid so, y/n,” Nate replied. “So, how’d you do it?”

I heard a grunt from Eliot, “Detonator… Ketchup.”

“Ah, the classics.”

“Is that what those gunshots were?” I asked.

“Yes, dear, Eliot had a lovely death scene,” Sophie answered excitedly.

Eliot met me back at the car, sliding into the driver's seat.

“Are you okay?” I asked one more time.

He smiled at me, “Yeah, I might be a little sore, but fine.” He looked down at his chest, “need a new shirt though.”

I looked at his shirt, and sure enough, he had holes and ketchup everywhere causing me to laugh.

“Were you okay?” He asked me as he put the car in drive.

“Yeah, just had to play hide and seek with some mob guys before getting here, but all good. I was entertained listening to the whole affair from here.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk as we drove back to the apartment.

It was a few days later when Kerrigan was well enough to come into the pub where Nate handed over a check. It was from the IRS for Kerrigan finding the tax fraud. He thanked us and started to walk away, but Zoe stayed for a moment.

She hugged me and then Nate, thanking us as well. “There are wolves in the world,” she said while looking at all of us, “but sometimes they’re the good guys, I guess.” She took Nate’s hand and placed what I saw was her necklace in it.

Nate admired it after she walked away.

“Still your last job?” Sophie asked him.

“Well, uh, maybe, um” Nate stumbled over his words, “I mean, you know, until I find a job I like enough, you know, to stay out of the bars.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” Hardison said.

“And then I’m out, I’m done.”

The others agreed half heartedly, as if they didn’t believe him. For the record, I didn’t either. Eliot, Parker, and Hardison left, and I followed shortly after, leaving Nate and Sophie alone. It was a crazy life they all led, and I couldn’t help but think I couldn’t wait until the next time.

I climbed the stairs and glanced at Nate’s door to see it slightly ajar. Curious, I pushed it open and peaked in. Inside I saw Hardison start to set up some TVs.

“Hello?”

He looked up at me, “Oh, hey! You wanna come help me level this?”

I approached cautiously, but helped nevertheless, “What are these for?”

“These are awesome for briefings and watching cameras, sports too.”

“Where’s Parker and Eliot?”

“She’s grabbing some stuff, Eliot’s working next door.”

“Next door-”

The door opened and shut and I looked over to see Nate walk in.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing there?” He said once he saw us.

“I’m runnin’ this CAT-5 cable to the-”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. You don’t understand. I don’t want to have these monitors in my apartment,” he explained before turning to me, “and why are you helping him?”

I shrugged, “I just didn’t ask questions.”

“Coming through!” Parker came in holding a large painting.

Nate backtracked towards her, “No! Parker, no! Not that painting! I don’t ever want to see that painting.”

Parker stopped and waved it in front of her as she spoke in a funny voice, “Hi, I’m old Nate and I live here too!”

“You can’t just break in here and start hanging stuff…”

Hardison stopped him, “For repairs and renovations, your landlord has full access to your dwellings. It’s in the lease.”

That made me pause, “What?”

“What are you doing reading my lease?”

“I bought the building!”

“You bought the…”

“You’re our landlord?” I hesitantly fist bumped Hardison when he offered it.

I flinched when a chainsaw noise started and followed Nate when he found where the noise was coming from. The chainsaw was coming from the other side of the wall through to Nate’s apartment.

Nate repeated no when he saw what was happening, but it was futile. Eliot walked in after cutting out a makeshift door covered in sawdust. He looked very proud of himself, but with the cloud of dust that came out, I couldn’t react other than sneeze.

Nate coughed before turning to me, “why didn’t they do this to your apartment? You’re the one who wanted them around.”

“Whoa,” Eliot said.

“We’re not gonna crash a lady’s apartment,” Hardison finished as if it were a no-brainer.

I huffed out a laugh and a shrug, not fighting it when Hardison and Parker wrapped their arms around Nate and I’s shoulders. What a day.

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom @kniselle

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader

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smashlovesscream · 3 months

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PLEEEAAAASEEEEE HEAR ME OOOUUTTTT

Billy who learns French just for the fuck of it, wants to be funny and haha and he ends up actually loving the language and will randomly start speaking in French. Just-

Billy: Well yesterday I was.. Couper l’herbe, puis ton putain de chien sort de nulle part et me tue presque! [translation: Cutting the grass, then your fucking dog comes out of nowhere and almost kills me!]

And Stu, who doesn’t know French but likes to hear Billy just stares and then goes “Was sagst du??” [german for “what are you saying?” Me thinks]

And then Billy just starts fucking RANTINGGGG IN FRENCH AND STU CANT TELL WHAT THE FUCK HES SAYING BUT HE ENJOYS IT- AAAAHHHH

That’s it. That’s the Anon. BAM.

AJHDSKJ french Billy HC x German Stu HC awesomesjhdj

After Billy's rant

"Really. Is that so? I understood you so hardcore-" Stu says as he stares at Billy and rubs his chin like the fucker he is (ugh i love him) "When the fuck did you start speaking oui oui?" "When I wanted to start cussing out my dad." Billy blinking the fuck out cause he's thinking about how he just complained to Stu but Stu quite literally couldn't translate a word and it's slightly pissing him off. "Oh. Did you just-"

"No. Forget it you-" Billy calling him the worst actual thing he could in fucking french (WHICH I WILL NOT BE USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE TO FINISH HIS SENTANCE CAUSE I DON'T BELIEVE A FUCKING WORD IT SAYS.) BUT YEAH

i agree, this def wont be canon in my fic, neither of them even tho it would be so sick and awesome and absolutely rad ALSO imagine after watching a movie they're like "*Billy speaking in French about how he'd kill the girl in the film*" "Dude, stop speaking French and start Frenching my mouth-" STU AND HIS AWESOME FLIRTING WAY

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