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mockerycrow · 8 months

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You’re Alive (Gaz x GN!Reader)

gaz masterlist - gazfest 2023 @glitterypirateduck

PROMPTS: “One-shot” + “Safe House” + “Let Me See You”

SUMMARY: After receiving a facial scar, you have been jumpy—Kyle is here to show you that’s it’s all okay.

A/N: Honestly, I’m not the happiest with this but I decided to stop being picky with it!! So I hope my contribution to gazfest is satisfactory <3

[WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, moderate descriptions of gore, allusion to PTSD.]

Your leg kept bouncing like whatever gnawing feeling in your gut wasn’t going to stop unless your leg was going a million miles per minute. The clock on the wall ticked every second oh so quietly, and it was overall silent aside from the ticking and your body squeaking. You felt like a live wire attached to a brick of dynamite, ready to explode at any given time—ready to kill whoever holds the brick. Despite it being an hour or two since you and Kyle arrived at the safehouse, you remain at the only window in the entire building. In your arms rests your rifle with your safety switched to “semi” for semi-automatic, like you’re expecting someone to come barreling in through the door, or come through the tree line.

Kyle doesn’t blame you for the way you have been acting, honestly. He knows you’ve been different since you got your facial scar a few months back—you were required to go through a psychological evaluation to be deemed fit for duty, and it’s moments like this where Kyle—guiltily—wonders how you passed “with flying colors”, so the doctor said. He doesn’t understand how the Captain hasn’t see your behavior either, or if he has, he hasn’t done anything about it. Kyle means well about all of this, too. He’s worried about you. He’s seen the way your eyes scan every room, the way you’re too ready to raise your weapon to kill, the way you snarl at anyone who is casually holding a knife outside of combat.. There’s so many signs pointing to something, a deeper problem, that he is wondering how the psychologist still has a job.

You’ve begun to wear a mask that obscures your face from your nose down.

You offered to take first watch—he notes that you’re like Ghost in that regard, you can’t calm down after a highly intense situation, so you gotta do what you gotta do, right? But the way you’re so.. jumpy, you keep jolting and looking at Kyle every time he shifts, making a slight noise?—that’s concerning. He’s used to Ghost’s incredible alertness, the way he doesn’t like his back faced to the door of the rooms he enters, Kyle is used to when Ghost sits in the far corner so he can see every inch of the room—but he was terrified when you began to do it, too. You’ve always been vigilant, sure, but you’re.. Something is very wrong.

Kyle watches from his spot on the ragged, torn couch that had to be taken from the curb in a nearby neighborhood. His own rifle is propped up against the couch, his pistol resting on the coffee table in front of himself. He watches the way your eyes flicker across the skyline, the puffy eyebags you have almost seem like they’re worsening by the moment. Kyle is also exhausted—you two have been traveling from safehouse to safehouse for about a week, trying to meet up with the rest of the task force.. With no support, of course.

He calls your name, and he makes a mental note of how your finger twitches closer to the trigger than before. “You need to rest.” He grunts out, pushing himself off of the couch. Kyle turns and grabs his rifle, holding the hefty weapon to his chest as he naturally copies your perfectly practiced pose. He looks up and looks at you—and you haven’t moved a muscle. “Hey, y’hear me?” Kyle voice is laced with concern as he takes his steps towards you, and he makes the mistake of tapping your shoulder—because suddenly he’s facing the silencer of your semi-automatic rifle. Cold panic shoots through his veins and his gut, his muscles going rigid as if he’s a deer in headlights. His eyes search for yours, locking eyes; and you’re out of it. He knew something was wrong.

“Oi,” Kyle speaks with the softest tone he can manage with a gun nearly pressing into the bridge of his nose. “Oi, it’s me. Gaz, mate. It’s Kyle.” Your eyes search his face desperately, and he’s silently begging for you to speak. The tension in his stomach is twisting and turning, threatening to snap—you show no signs of any recognization of him, someone who you have trusted for years by this point, someone who was the one to get your guts inside of your abdomen after an ambush, the one who held your face together after the attack—

Kyle does things before he thinks about it sometimes, and it seems to happen a lot more often with you than anyone else, so he’s silently cursing himself out when he slowly raises a hand to your cheek—his heart pounding against his rib cage, like it’s screeching to escape and run away. He has a rifle pressing against his nose, nearly right between his eyes, and what does he do? Kyle holds your covered cheek, his gloved hand cradling it just like how he did when he found you. Your eyebrow muscles punch inwards for a moment, your eyelids fluttering from the touch.

He watches the way your eyes scan his face, the way you’re trying to decipher whether he’s friend or foe—and he sees it when you know it’s him. Your eyes widen every so slightly and your rifle trembles in your grasp, lowering it and you flip the safety back on. “Gaz, I..” You croak for a moment, taking a small step back. Kyle let’s out a breath he didn’t he was holding, along with all of that tension holding up in body. He reaches for you again as you pinch the bridge of your nose, one of his hands swiftly taking the rifle from you, the other gently cradling your cheek again. “Shh, it’s alright,” He murmurs, his stomach tightening with anxiety. Your eyes fall closed for a moment as Kyle lets your rifle drop to the ground next to where both of you stand.

“It’s alright.” Kyle repeats, his other hand coming up to cradle your other cheek. You ever so slightly flinch in his touch, but you don’t pull away. Your hands come up to cover his own, a choked noise leaving your throat. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.” His lips are next to your ear now, voice dripping like honey into your eardrums, trickling down your spine with a warmth only he’s been able to provide for you. You can borderline feel his heat from beneath his gloves, seeping into your skin from on top of your mask, too. It grounds you enough for you to take a wonderfully oxygen filled breath.

“There y’go, yeah..” Kyle praises you softly, the air from between his lips brushing against your ear and causing you get goosebumps. You inhale once again, slower and deeper—and you get the comforting scent of Kyle, mixed in with the sweat and dirt. Nonetheless, it’s something you find extreme comfort in. As Kyle brings you down from your panicked feelings, he’s swaying you ever so slightly. After you let out a soft shuddering breath, he pulls away from your ear. “Let me see you,” He whispers, causing your eyes to shoot open, scanning his face with panic. You begin to shake your head but his hands remain in place. Kyle’s hands don’t move to remove your mask, as he’s always been good with your boundaries—but his eyes are pleading you.

“Please.” You lock eye contact with him as you debate this; you haven’t showed your face willingly since you were in the hospital, right? You began to cover your face as soon as you could without medical repercussions. You keep scanning his eyes, his muscles in his face, and then it hits you—Kyle doesn’t beg you of anything—the last time he saw your face, was when it was split in two, when he was holding your face in place. You know the attack fucked with him, too. Your barracks were next to his, and after the attack, you were hyper-vigilant. You woke up from every noise, and every night—you heard him stumble out of his room, always at night. Panicked.

You take a slow, deep breath—and you nod. You close your eyes, trying to give yourself some comfort. You feel his fingers hook into the soft material of your mask, and he pulls it down to under your chin. You don’t open your eyes just yet, but you can’t help the small flinch when you feel his gloved thumb trace part of your pink scar that’s deep in your lip. Your heart is hammering in your throat as his finger continues to slowly follow the scar’s path, from your bottom lip trailing to your nose, rearing a gory right, a deeper part of the scar scaling through your right cheek, and taking a harsh upwards turn, just narrowly missing your eye, but cutting deep into your eyebrow.

“There you are.” He whispers, his voice barely steady. Your eyes flutter open and you look at Kyle, and your eyebrows raise ever so slightly at the sight of tears brimming in his own eyes, pure relief all over his expression. “Thought I lost you forever, huh?” Kyle tries to laugh, but his voice cracks, causing a rare laugh to be pulled out of your chest. You reach up and your breath hitches as you wipe away a tear that had begun to slide down his cheek. “I’m.. I’m okay, Kyle.” You respond and he shakes his head, sniffling for a moment, his eyes tracing every part of your face, like you’ll disappear again. “You aren’t,” He confirms. “And that’s alright. You’re alive, and here with me, that’s enough for now.”

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shyanddreamy · 7 months

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You can't save everyone

Happy Lowman x Reader | Part 1

Nights at the club were always great, but not as great as this one. This night was savage; it was pretty obvious that Sons knew how to party. Music was loud and booze was plentiful, and after another round of tequila shots, there you were, observing them with a stupid drunken smile in your face. You wasn´t sure at the beginning, when you first moved to Charming, but you like them. They were your family. Or the closest thing to a family you had ever known.

Your gaze met with Happy’s eyes, who had a croweater sitting on his lap. That woman was dynamite, she was one of the prettiest, and had made clear her preference for Happy. Even so, the passionate way she kissed his neck was not to your liking. After a few minutes of awkward eye contact, he decided to push her aside and walked towards you.

“Are you having fun?”, you asked him.

“I am”

At that time, he had his hands on your hips and his lips dangerously close to yours. You weren’t his Old Lady; not even his girl. The first time he brought you to the clubhouse, he told his brothers you were a friend. His exact words were “someone you can trust”, but your relationship was much deeper than just that.

Without saying any other word, he kissed you softly. He looked all tough, but he liked that kind of kisses. Hardly anyone would think that Happy could be delicate, but you knew it well. You swore you could have melted on his arms sometimes. But this time wasn’t one of them.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Hap”, you murmured.

“Why?”, he asked you with his raspy voice.

“That croweater had touched you everywhere by now. You even have remnants of her red lipstick on your neck”, you said as he put more distance between both. “I don’t eat leftovers”.

His grimace didn’t change at all; it was as impassive as always.

“So, I better go”, he suggested.

You didn’t answer to that. It was pointless. You wanted him to stay and enjoy the rest of the party together, talk with his brothers and the rest, have fun, drink more… But what Happy wanted was different, so you just nodded and let him go. And he left for the dorms, but not before putting an arm around the shoulders of that croweater who willingly accompanied him.

It was nothing that hadn’t happened a dozen times before. You knew him and his way of life. And maybe you weren’t much better. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t hurt anymore, but it was a bit disappointing and always left a bitter taste.

It was a long time ago when you first met Happy. Now you could say it was a funny story, more or less. Someone had killed one of his brothers in Tacoma and Happy broke into your house at night accusing you of being the murderer. Actually, it was pretty scary to see Happy in your living room with a loaded gun ready to pull the trigger after getting your confession. But you were innocent. Apparently, the offender who shot the Son was driving your car, that’s how they thought you were guilty.

“The car isn’t mine”, you assured him. “Is new. Stolen”.

“Liar”

“If I wanted to make up an excuse, I would have chosen a better one, dickhead”, you said. “Yesterday, someone tipped me off about an abandon car not far from here. My intentions were to give it a coat of paint, make a few changes, and sell it again. I need the money, that’s all. I haven’t killed anybody”.

“Who?”, he asked you. Since the beginning, you learnt that chatty wasn’t a good adjective to describe Happy.

“Who what?”

“Who told you about the car”.

Although he was deadly serious, you smirked slightly.

“I know how you guys work. You hate rats”, you warned him. “And I ain’t no rat”.

Happy was intimidating in the distance, but even more when he was near. However, you kept your chin up. He was at your home accusing you of committing a murder you haven’t done. You had nothing to be ashamed of.

“I’m gonna get out of your house with his name”, he insisted. “And it would be better for you to talk now, or we won’t chat anymore”.

“What will happen to him?”

“Not your business”

You moistened your lips and intensified your gaze, while his grew darker by the second.

“That motherfucker beat me up twice. If you promise me you’re gonna kill him, I’ll gladly tell you his name”.

You had done some business with him before, but he was a little piece of shit who was always trying to play you. World would be a better place without him.

“That’s a promise I can keep, little one.”

Happy killed the guy two days after. And it would have been the last time you would have seen him if it hadn’t been for a prospect, who decided to show up in your house more than two weeks after that meeting. Apparently, Happy had sent him to invite you to the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse on Friday night. You thought about it all week before finally deciding to go. It was a dangerous move, but bad choices in life had always made it more interesting.

When you arrived at the club not knowing what to expect, you found it crowded. A lot of booze, lots of drugs and lots of noisy drunks. You noticed Happy minutes after your entrance, but he spent almost an hour staring at you from the distance while you were drinking in the bar counter talking with the prospect. He was the one who invited you, so he was the one who had to make the first move. Until he finally did.

“You’re here”, he said as he sat in the stool next to you.

“You wanted me here”, you clarified. “Why?”

“I liked our talk”.

“The part where you threatened to kill me or the part where you threatened to harm me?”, you asked him ironically.

“All of it, I suppose”.

“So, why am I here?”, you insisted.

“Wanted to see you again”, he answered.

You smiled slightly, shook your head, and took a sip of your beer.

“If these are your best phrases to flirt, I have to say that they’re lame”.

“I don’t usually need more”.

You gave him a look, but he was completely confident. And strange as it may seem, it worked. That tough appearance, his mysticism and those black eyes that seemed capable of knowing what you were thinking actually worked.

You spent a few hours in the clubhouse barely talking, drinking, smoking, and watching the stupid things drunks usually do. It was an unpredictable night, but it was a good one. And when he offered to drive you home, when you got there, you let him in.

“That thing your brother asked you. What he called me”, you said, unable to remember the word. “He asked you if I were a new…”

“Croweater”, he answered.

“What does it mean?”

“The chicks who are always around the club. To serve us some drinks. To hook up”, he briefly explained to you. “That’s a croweater”.

“I’m not a croweater”, you assured him completely serious. In response, he reduced the distance between both and brought his hand to the back of your neck with a softness you weren’t expecting from him.

“I know.”

That was the first night you spent together, but it was far from being the last. From that day on, you started seeing each other almost weekly. He would come to your house at night, you would fuck, and he would leave in the morning. Maybe it was because the sex was great, maybe it was something else. There was not much talk, but eventually –and just sometimes– you shared something more about yourselves and your lives. It could be just a stupid story from your childhood or a dream from last night, but it was nice. It felt right. Nevertheless, after a few months with that routine, Happy announced you one day that he was going nomad, which meant he was leaving Tacoma.

“First time I saw you, I thought you were dangerous”, you confessed to him on his last night, both naked on the bed. You were outlining his tattoos with your fingertips. The truth was that you felt safe with him. Your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beats, his arms around you, his calm breathing… You would miss it. “And I know you are dangerous, but it’s not the kind of danger I imagined. You are fucking addictive, Happy.”

When his lips kissed your head affectionately, you closed your eyes trying to feel as much as you could now, so you could remember it once he was gone.

“I understand the feeling. I feel it too.”

For long weeks, you didn’t hear anything from him. It was as if he had vanished. And it was awful. It was until one day Happy called you to say he had two days off and suggested you spend them together. Obviously, you accepted it. You couldn’t refuse that offer. When he left again, the pain came back, but that time something changed. After those days, he started calling you more often. The calls were sporadic and brief. He didn´t talk much in person, so he didn’t on the phone either. But hearing his voice was enough for your sad soul. Anyways, they were always the same three questions: “how are you going?”, “are you safe?”, and “haven’t you killed anybody yet?” He never said “I miss you” or anything like that, but you knew he did. Words weren’t necessary.

Perhaps he had his reasons, but came the moment when he announced to you that he was no longer wanted to be a nomad. Instead, he was moving to Charming. And surprisingly, he asked you to go with him. It was an easy decision to take, as there was nothing special to stay in Tacoma for.

“I want to know why you want me to go there. With you”, you told him the day he knocked on your door with that proposition.

“I’m going to be there. And I want you to be there with me too. That’s all.”

“I don’t get it, Happy”, you insisted. “I don’t get anything that’s going on between us. We've been doing this, whatever this is, for a long time.”

Happy tensed his jaw. He knew as well as you that it was strange, but you have never had that conversation.

“I like having you around. Spending time with you. And I don’t want it to end”, he responded. Happy wasn’t the kind of man who was good at expressing his feelings, but this time he seemed genuine. “I want to keep you close. Know that you’re safe. And you're always gonna be safe with me”.

At his words, you felt your hearth melt.

“It’s crazy, Hap. Where am I gonna live? I don’t have enough money to move at the moment.”

“I’ve already got a house there”, he said. “And you’ll have your own dorm. We can share the rent. That way's cheaper”.

“Always thinking about ways to spend the less amount of money”, you smirked as you walked towards him and put your arms around his neck. “The money is your only reason? Is not because you want to be able to fuck me more often?”

Although he curved the corners of his mouth into a mischievous smile, Happy just shrugged his shoulders.

“Moving together is a big step. It could be kind of scary”, you murmured against his lips.

“I’ve seen a lot of scary things in my life. This is not going to scare me, Y/N.”

That’s how you ended up in Charming. And unlike when you were in Tacoma, in Charming you spent a lot more time with the Sons. Almost every afternoon and every night you were in the club, with them, and it was perfect. At least it was perfect at the beginning. As time goes by, the coexistence became more difficult, adding the fact that the dark times were harder than you might have expected. Every time Happy left, you didn’t know if he would come back. And when he was there, he wanted to be with you as soon as bang any random chick. Waiting worried for his life only to see him go into the arms of a croweater on his return was harsh. But you got used to it.

The problem was that now you were in what seemed to be a long period of peace. And without more fights and deaths, you had begun to hope something else. Something more. You weren't sure of what it was, but there were things that were wrong. It no longer felt right.

After several unsuccessful attempts to keep the fun going, you decided it would be better for you to go home. Unfortunately, Chibs noticed your intentions.

“Going home already?”, he asked you. “Thought you were going to wait for Happy.”

“I don’t mind walking home.”

“You’re alright, lass?”, he insisted. Chibs was too perceptive sometimes.

“Don’t know”, you muttered with a little sad smile. “I need to think”.

“I’ll tell Happy you left”, he nodded. “Keep yourself out of trouble.”

“As always, Pres.”

In your way home, once everything around you were in complete silence, you tried to rethink about what had happened tonight. But this time, you tried to be completely honest with yourself. And the truth was that you couldn’t bear it anymore. You were tired and stagnant. Life was too short, even more when you were in the outlaw world. Maybe it was time for a change.

As someone entered in your dorm, you opened your eyes.

“Didn’t want to wake you up”, Happy said.

“It’s okay”, you sighed.

“Can I come in?”

“You never ask for permission.”

“You never go home without me”, he answered back. However, he decided to walk towards the bed and lie next to you in the space you had already made for him.

Having two bedrooms, you didn’t always sleep together, but Happy used to enter in your room even if it was only to spend some minutes in there with you. You loved that habit as much as you loved to embrace him and lay your head on his chest. Nevertheless, this time you stayed in the same position you were before.

“What time is it?”

“Midday”, he replied.

“Have you come back now?”

“A while ago. I've taken a shower before.”

“I’m glad you don’t stain my sheets with red lipstick.”

You heard Happy sigh, but he didn’t answer. You understood that dialogue wasn’t his thing, but sometimes his silence was exasperating.

“I think I need to go.”

“Where?”, he asked you.

“Don’t know. Far from Charming”

“Why? And for what?”

“Stop with the fucking questions”, you complained. “I just need to go. I can’t stay here anymore”.

“Are you running away from me?”

Listening those words from his mouth was painful, so you needed a few seconds to calm down before you turned on the bed to look at him. His eyes were fixed on yours as if he wasn’t able to look at anything else.

“I don’t want to run away from you, but I need it”.

“That makes no sense”.

“It makes sense for me”.

“Is because that hoe? Are you mad at me?”, he asked, frowned.

You took your hand to his face, caressing his cheek softly, but his expression did not relax in the slightest.

“You are the most valuable thing I have in my life, Happy, and I’m glad you let me into your life and spend so much time with you. But lately things have changed. I need to leave Charming and clarify my ideas. And then I’ll come back”.

“Or maybe you never do it”, he retorted.

You felt the tears in your eyes, but you did your best to hold them back.

“I love you in a way you can’t reciprocate. And it’s okay. I’m not mad at you for that. But every time I realize you don’t feel the same… It’s killing me, Happy. And I don’t want to end up dead inside.”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, he wrapped his arms around you, guiding your head to his chest like most mornings. And once again, there were no words from him. You decided to caress his abdomen while his fingers caressed your body with tenderness. You would have stayed in this exact moment forever, but it was just a fantasy.

“I have to go to Santo Padre in two days”, he announced. From time to time, he went there for club business. “You can come with me. Maybe the travel is good for you. We can talk more. Spend more time together. Just us”.

“Okay. I’ll think about it”.

The club wasn't worried about the fact that you were going to Santo Padre with Happy. They trusted him with their lives, so they asked no questions about his decision to take you with him this time. So, with just a backpack as your baggage, you got into the van and started your journey.

In a normal situation, you wouldn’t have talked much unless you tried to engage in conversation. But this time, you didn’t. Actually, you didn’t even know what to say. Anyway, the conversation was light and trivial. It did not escape your notice that Happy was more talkative than usual. Maybe he was doing an effort.

After hours of travelling, you arrived at Santo Padre, Mayans’ territory. They were waiting for Happy in their clubhouse, so there was where you went. You felt some gazes on you as you got out of the van, but it could be just curiosity given that it was strange for them to see Happy with feminine company while he was doing business.

The right thing would be to wait until Happy was done at a prudent distance, but your bladder was full by then, so your only option was to ask them as politely as you could if you could go inside to use the bathroom. You knew they do trust Happy when they let you into the clubhouse alone, without one of them keeping an eye on you. Or maybe they could tell by your face that you really needed to go to the bathroom urgently. Unfortunately, when you opened the door, you found out that someone was already in there.

“Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry”, you said, half-closing the door again in a rush. “Can you just hurry? If not, I think I’m gonna make a mess and I don’t…”

You couldn’t end the phrase before the Mayan who was inside came out of the bathroom, letting the place completely free for you. You saw his smile, as if he was ready to laugh at your desperation or to make an ironic remark, but you didn’t have time for that either. So, as soon as you crossed the door, you closed it in his face.

“Fucking Happy”, you growled. You had told him that you needed to stop somewhere for a toilet break, but he had insisted that you were almost there. Of course, that wasn´t true at all.

Once you left the clubhouse, relieved, you decided to wait near the van until their man talk ended. It only took about ten minutes more before Happy shook hands with the Mayans Pres.

“We’re ready to go”, he said to you.

“Can you drop me off in the city centre?”, you asked him, but Happy frowned in confusion.

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ve never told you that”, you answered.

“But I thought… We are far from Charming. That’s what you wanted”.

“It is not what I wanted. I need to take a time for myself. I already explained you that”.

Happy tensed his jaw, but he added nothing more. So, assuming that the conversation was over, you threw away the cigarette and went inside the van again. Happy hesitated, but in last instance, he approached again to Mayans Pres and VP, who had been watching you still outside their clubhouse.

“I have to ask you a personal favour, Bish”, he told him. Even though from your position you could not hear him, you had a good idea of what he was saying. “She’s gonna stay here for a while, in the city. I would appreciate if you could keep an eye on her. Just in case”.

“Ok. No problem”, Bishop answered. However, he was a little confused. He wasn´t expecting Happy to be dealing with that kind of things.

As Happy got into the driver’s seat, you glanced over him with your arms crossed.

“I can take care of myself”, you mumbled.

“I know.”

The short drive was in completely silence, but this time, it was an awkward one. However, it was impossible for you decipher what Happy was thinking. And once he stopped the van again where you had asked him, you knew this was it.

“I should go now, I guess”, you said, but Happy did not open his mouth. He even refused to look at you. You weren’t expecting one last kiss or a deep conversation, but at least a goodbye would have been nice. “Take care, Happy”.

As soon as you opened the door, his hand caught your forearm. Every single muscle of his body was tense, and his gaze was more intense than ever before.

“Call me”, he simply said. “If you need something. Anything. Just call me”.

“Okay. I’ll do it”, you assured him softly.

You took the hand that was grabbing your arm with yours and kissed his knuckles lovingly. It was hard for you as well, especially as you had not been separated for a long time, but it was for the best. You couldn’t say what would happen or when you would see each other again, so it was better to not say anything at all. With a last brief smiled, you left the car.

→ Part 2

#happy lowman #sons of anarchy #soa #chibs telford #neron creeper vargas #mayans mc #happy soa #chibs sons of anarchy

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coleskingdom · 1 month

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Your Revenge

Adam Cole x F Reader

18+ Minors DNI

@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri

It’d been a few weeks since that night with Cole. I’d gone home, showered, Adam contrary to his words didn’t leave a mark on my neck and swore to myself I wouldn’t tell Jay.. Not for fear of him leaving me but for what he’d do to Adam. There was an apprehensive when an unknown number would appear on my phone, I didn’t know if it’d be Adam. Things between Jay and I were not great but he had sometime off coming, the things that made him cranky like his creative was fixed soon he’d be back to normal.

Jay left out a day earlier than normal, it wasn’t a big deal, plans change and I didn’t ask him any questions about the schedule shift. I ordered take out and settled in on the couch to watch Dynamite, Jays music hit and he comes out and does his normal entrance when he takes off his jacket, there are scratches on his back that weren’t there when he left. Trying to be rational I pause the screen and try to take a closer look maybe my guilty conscience is showing me things that aren’t there.

My phone went off

Unknown Number

Maybe your not so sweet as honey after all, you have Claws

Me:

Who is this?

Unknown

😈 I’m hurt

Adam?

Adam

There’s my girl, I haven’t seen him marked like that since Japan .

Me:

Those aren’t from me.

Adam:

Fuck, Honey are you okay?

Me:

Don’t honey me please. Did you tell him?

Adam

No, call it a crisis of conscience

Me:

Conscience you? I guess thank you . No chance he brawled with mox in the back

Adam : Want me to lie?

Me: No….

Adam: He’s been or rumored to be fucking some girl in make up , I don’t have proof and you deserved better than to worry about a rumor.

Me: Are you in town?

Adam: yeah still not cleared. Honey do you want me to come see you? I can come pick you up, we can go grab food, a drink or just talk.

Me: Yeah, I need out of this house.

I gave him the address, I met him outside when he pulled up. “Have you said anything to him ?” As he pulled away from the house . “No, not about a couple weeks ago, not about tonight. I don’t know what to say I feel like a hypocrite.” staring out the window “Also why are you being so nice to me? I figured you’d be happy about this.” Casting a glance his direction. “Honey, I like you, I want you, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. So it served no purpose to hurt you, honestly I texted tonight because I was jealous, that those were your nail marks down his back. I never would’ve rubbed it in your face had I known. You have to believe me.”

Strangely enough I did believe him. “Were you ever going to call me about the third option?” my cheeks blushed turning more towards him in the seat. “You really want me to tell you? “ I nodded “I’ve picked up my phone so many times but again, I didn’t want to fuck up your life. I wanted you to want me, if you had called I’d have done anything you wanted. You didn’t though and I thought you and he had fixed shit.” his voice soft and sincere. “Adam, I haven’t stopped thinking about that night. It felt right, I just had to try and fix it with him, but it’s over now. If he has the audacity to walk out with his back looking like that knowing I��m watching there’s no going back. If I’m honest I had hoped the text was about the third option. “ placing my hand on his thigh a groan fell from his lips as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

He pulled up in front of his house. “Honey, I want you to be sure, if your not please tell me, and I’ll take you to dinner or a drink.” his voice low and warm and just like the first time I kissed him, it was needy and desperate. “Adam, take me inside, show me, pick me” my voice cracking on the last word. “Honey I’d pick you everyday and every night.”

He opened the car door, his hand on the small of my back leading me inside the house. He shut the door his lips finding mine, taking his time as he kissed me. “ Honey look at me” I glanced at him, his fingers lifting my chin, “Let me take care of you.” His hands moving to the hem of my sundress.”Let me show you everything you deserve” his mouth on my neck his hands moving up my sides. I felt my body relax under his touch. He took my hand and led to me to the bedroom, his touches were soft, as he lifted the sun dress over my head, his mouth followed his hands as he undressed me,before laying me down on the edge of his bed. I heard my phone ring, we both knew who it was and I ignored the call, as Adam had taken off his shirt and kneeled on the floor , parting my legs kissing the inside of my thigh when the phone rang again. “Adam, you don’t “ he cut my words off when he kissed my core through my panties, “Honey, unless you don’t want me to, or you don’t like it, I’ve been thinking about this since the night in the truck.” His fingers moved to the waistband of the soft cotton panties pulling them down. He licked from my entrance up, humming in appreciation as his mouth moved on my core. The phone rang again , “Answer it” he threw the phone up on the bed , “Adam he’s FaceTiming me” I whimpered, looking down at him

between my legs, “Good, take your revenge , take your control.” his eyes flashed wickedly as his tongue speared inside .

“Hello” I answered my face pink angling the camera just at my face. “ sweet girl, what are you doing? It’s not like you to not answer my phone calls.” Jays voice composed, I moaned as Adam’s finger glided over my clit. “Oh so that’s what you’re doing, dirty girl, let me see.” I shook my head no, words no longer able to fall from my mouth. “Sweet girl, I miss you and your pussy so much.” I groaned as Adam inserted to fingers moving at a faster rougher pace as I clenched around him, “ Oh fuck Ad” the words falling before I could stop them, “ who’s there with you? Who the fuck is there with you right now?” With his free hand Adam grabbed the phone, angling it showing Jay what exactly he was doing. I couldn’t stop the orgasm as I came while Jay was on the phone. “Cole is that you, you motherfucker I’m going to kill you.” Cole worked me through my orgasm, kissing the inside of my thigh, his beard covered in my cum, as he put the camera directly at his face. “Actually, I’m a girlfriend fucker but after the way your back looked tonight I’m gonna say your ex girlfriend fucker.”his voice cocky and assured. Jays face was pure rage as he screen shot it , “Seems, she needs to be tended to so I’m gonna let you go” as he hung up and turned off the phone.

#adam cole x you #adam cole fan fiction #adam cole x reader #adam cole smut #aew smut

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rainbowchewynuggets · 1 year

Text

TMA Encore #12

Jon stares down into the gaping corpse of the prison. A stale air current breathes coldly on his neck.

Jon: If this tape has reached any of the members of my team, I would hope that they’d understand that I’m choosing to remove myself from the board to prevent something terrible. And that I’m sorry for doing it. And for everything, really. I… I should have told you all what was happening from the beginning. At the time, I told myself that it was for the better. But I’m realizing that I have a poor metric for those sorts of choices. I knew something was wrong early on and kept it to myself anyway. It was just easier to pretend that I could handle it myself. Clearly not.

He tries to summon some levity, but his throat is too tight.

Jon: You deserved better. You deserved to know.

He squeezes the little silver lighter in his other hand.

Jon: If you haven’t found this tape, it might be because we’re all still down here together. I shouldn’t do it, after all we’ve done to try to make it through this. I don’t want to. I’d just be making the same mistake all over again. But here I am.

He looks at the lace of fuse cord sticking out of each stick of dynamite, maybe six inches from the lighter’s flame.

Jon: It shouldn’t feel this easy. I should be in a much worse place mentally to even consider either option. It just… feels logical. As much as I’d like to blame an external force, I think that would be too easy. The point might be entirely moot, since I can’t seem to light this fuse any more than I can throw myself off. I can’t get myself to back away, either. Maybe I’m just waiting for a cue. A scare or something to let me know when it’s time to get going. Always seems to do the trick.

He can’t think of any more quips to distract himself. He can’t think of anything to say at all. He stops the recording and sets the player down on the ground beside him. The lighter thumps nervously against his leg as he scans the black void at the base of the Panopticon.

Not-Jon: Hello, Jonah.

Jonah meets him with his most unsurprised look.

Jonah: Nice to finally meet the creature that’s been stalking me.

Not-Jon allows himself no reaction beyond a difficult swallow.

NJ: Old habit.

Jonah looks him up and down. Not-Jon’s eyes are locked on him.

Jonah: Are you quite alright? You look uncomfortable.

Not-Jon strains to stand up straighter against the wall. Jonah waits for him to move, but he remains struggling to stay propped up where he is.

NJ: I suppose I should have thought to lock up the archives.

Jonah: Just figured I’d give you a hand. An ambitious design requires careful execution.

He steps back and rests against the opposite wall, facing the strange creature.

Jonah: Though, I must admit that I’m impressed. I never imagined you could become such a willing propagator for your patrons. Especially after what I heard on those tapes.

NJ: “Willing” with no other choice.

His voice is hard and sharp.

NJ: This way, they’re all likely to make it out alive. I at least haven’t stooped to sacrificing bystanders and victims.

Jonah: A credible threat reaps the same benefits, whether it’s followed through or not. You know that. There isn’t really room for ethics in our line of work.

Not-Jon is miserably silent.

Jonah: And I’m afraid you may have pushed some of your pieces a little too far.

Jonah takes out the three fragments of the ring. Not-Jon gives them a long look before tearing his eyes away back to Jonah.

NJ: Oh. Well. That would explain why this is so much harder than I thought it would be.

His sardonic tone can’t disguise the shaking in his voice. He gasps, winded from talking.

Jonah closes his fingers and moves to the back of the tower.

Not-Jon attempts to follow. He can barely move his feet and has to slide along the wall by one shoulder. Jonah reaches behind the cavernous remains of the stairs and pulls out a shotgun. He takes a shell from his pocket and loads it, then points the nose of the barrel at Not-Jon at point blank range. Fear is plain on his target’s face. He lets the moment sit, drinking it in.

The gun fires. The slug shatters bone and burrows into Not-Jon’s chest. Gunpowder burns the exposed flesh. He doubles over like a crumpled piece of paper. One hand holds the wound, the other is pressed against the floor with his legs bunched under him. He grits his teeth as he clings to his last ounce of strength, which threatens to leave him with each passing moment.

Jonah takes a step closer and kneels to meet the creature’s burning hateful eyes.

Jonah: It must be terrible. After all that careful planning and work, some underestimated detail arrives at the last minute and puts you back in your place.

Not-Jon wheezes painfully.

Jonah notices a running feeling in his hands. The broken ring has turned to dust, its illusory purpose served. Jonah processes this a second too late.

Not-Jon’s defeated act vanishes. He lunges and clasps his hands around Jonah’s throat. They struggle and hit the floor. Jonah is pinned as Not-Jon chokes him, vaporized blood rising from his hands.

NJ: It really is terrible, isn’t it?

Not-Martin’s concentration is broken. His sight turns probingly in the direction of the central watchtower.

NM: Oh, god.

Using Jonah’s sphere of influence as a gateway, the Entities push outward, overextending themselves. Not-Jon’s awareness expands beyond the Institute. Far, far beyond. He can see and feel the presence of the competing Entities’ places and objects of power. Their prowling avatars. Their euphoria. Their malice. The fear, misery, and ruin they create. Despite all that he’s done to dilute it, it saturates the earth. It seeps through endless fissures made between worlds, waiting only for enough points of cohesion to bring the Entities through.

The interference is agony. His head is filled with splintering wood.

He can’t stop here. He has to get rid of all of it. No trace can be left behind.

It can’t wait any longer. It’s the only way.

The only way.

Tim and Sasha are lost in the dark. They were at opposite ends of a complicated room when the flashlight ate through its last battery. They can’t find each other. A rushing sound approaches them with a flash of blinding light.

Not-Martin grabs hold of his younger double just before the flash floods their tiny cell.

————

Next comes the scary part.

First

Index

#the magnus archives #mag200 spoilers #magnus pod #tma fancomic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #tim stoker #jonah magnus #elias bouchard #not-jon #not-martin #the entities #tma encore 12 #cw suicide #cw violence #cw gun violence #cw blood #cw body horror

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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something infinite • part five

SOMETHING INFINITE • PART FIVE E A S I E R T O P R E T E N D

part five of something infinite – are you and steve finally figuring each other out? it’s obvious you drive each other crazy, but is it possible you’re starting to like it? | ( 3k, angsty fluff, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader – find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here )

J U L Y 1 9 8 7 🎶 lying, ben kessler

“Are you serious? Oh my god,” you swore under your breath, snatching a book that was upside down off the shelf and shooting a glare down the aisle at the mop of brown hair at the end. Clearing your throat you raised your brows at him, waving the book in your hand. “Yeah? Really?”

Steve glanced up from the open book in his hands, the one he was supposed to be putting away, expression nonplussed, “What? It’s in the right spot on the shelf isn’t it?”

Your lips firmed into a line, “It’s like you’re not even trying.” Grumbling to yourself you replaced the book right side up and stalked back to the returns cart to grab more titles. Today’s shift had felt longer than normal, maybe because it was the hottest day of the year so far. Maybe because all you wanted was to go to the skatepark. Maybe because Steve Harrington was still the most obnoxious boy you’d ever met.

The lake day had been unexpected and you’d softened a bit. He’d shown you a side of him you hadn’t known existed and it’d piqued your interest, you couldn’t deny that, but since then he’d gone back to calling you princess and generally driving you up the wall.

Glancing back down the aisle you saw Steve was still reading the book he needed to put back.

“Hey, nerd. Do you want to be here all afternoon?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice down, but the woman one row over glared at you through the shelf. You gave her an apologetic look before turning to shoot daggers back at Steve.

“Christ, fine. Don’t need to get so worked up, Princess,” he mumbled something else you didn't catch under his breath, but closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf.

“Don’t call me that,” came as an automated reply and he grunted back like he always did, a mixture of amusement and irritation, but he grabbed more books from the cart and you both fell into a rhythm.

At first it had been awkward, bumping into each other, dropping books, generally being too loud, but after nearly a month you’d finally figured out each other’s habits and mannerisms in between bickering. You were organized, had a process, went alphabetically and didn’t like to talk much while you were putting books away. Steve just grabbed a handful of titles off the cart and walked haphazardly around the library cramming books onto shelves and always had something to say when he walked past you.

“Wrong section, Princess.”

“Shoe’s untied…kidding.”

“Jesus–did you know a million earth’s can fit inside the sun?”

“Gummy worm?”

Today was no different.

“So, Sinclair told me if you put like four or five of those fireworks together, you know, Satan’s Baby or whatever it is? It’s enough to make a stick of dynamite. How the hell is that safe?”

“Mmm, remind me to not stand near you when we’re lighting shit off tomorrow.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me those little assholes would be down at least a few fingers.”

“Sure.”

“Yeah? I bet you’re an instigator. ‘Here, you hold it.’ Hm?”

Turning away from your shelf you fixed him with a look. “To be honest, I haven’t done fireworks since like 6th grade.”

“Sixth grade? Seriously? Have you ever even been to a fair?”

You felt your cheeks flush. This was ridiculous. So what if you’d never been to a fair? What was this, the 50s? “Seriously?” your face scrunched up mockingly at first. “No. I haven’t,” followed in a flatter tone.

“Huh.”

Steve dropped his gaze back to the books in his hands and you stared at him expectantly for a minute before letting out a huff. He knew just how to wind you up.

“’Huh’ what?”

“Oh, nothing. Just weird that you’ve never been to a fair,” Steve flicked his eyes up to look down the row at you, “You know. Cotton candy, giant soda, ferris wheels. Get your boyfriend to win you a bear or whatever.”

“No. No cotton candy, no ferris wheels, no boyfriends,” you grumbled, heat rising in your chest, “What’s your point?”

“No point, just curious,” and then Steve gave you a small grin and the look in his eye made your stomach flip over, cheeks burning.

“Oh. Well, great. Mystery solved,” you shot back, turning quickly toward the shelf and busying yourself with putting your books back. But Steve didn’t rib you any further on it and you settled into the quiet of the library.

Moving in oddly synchronized unison, you both slowly cut the distance between each other, chipping away at the returns with Steve on one end of the aisle and you on the other. As he inched closer you could hear him humming low to himself, was it Pet Shop Boys? His fingers drumming along the metal rack as he went and you felt yourself becoming more and more distracted. You shook your head. It was nothing, just Steve being obnoxious.

Looking down at the next book in your hands, you saw Vol. 2: An Anthology of 18th Century English Poetry had to go back on the second-to-top shelf, and it wasn’t exactly small. Glancing around for the step stool you couldn’t find it and after peeking at the end of the aisle you didn’t see it there either. You looked over to hear Steve was still humming, was it Wham! this time? Ugh. No way were you asking for help. You could reach it.

“C’mon,” pushing onto the toes of your Chucks, your fingers scrambled to shove it between Volumes 1 and 3, but it slipped and you flinched, waiting for it to hit your face.

But when it didn’t you slowly opened one eye and saw a hand gripping the book just above your head. Following up the freckled arm you let out a small groan when Steve was at the other end, grinning like he’d won a bet or something.

“You know, you’re like when you step in gum. It’s just stuck on your shoe forever until it gets old and crusty and falls off,” your tone had started off sharp, but it stuttered as Steve leaned up to tip the book back into place. You were close enough to feel the warmth of him, like he held the sun in his chest, and your pulse fluttered again in your neck.

“Really know how to butter a guy up,” he said, voice a little lower than usual. His arm dropped back down and settled on the shelf behind you, bracketing you in. The toes of your shoes were dangerously close as his eyes dropped to meet yours, “You’re welcome by the way.”

Your cheeks were bright red, you could feel it, and the sound of his voice was making it worse by the minute. When his eyes met yours, all burnt caramel and honey, you felt the irritation in you flicker with something else. He smelled like cedar and leather, like spearmint gum and boy and for a moment your brain went all fuzzy.

“I had it,” you tried muster up what little bite you had left, but the heat behind your words had cooled and it came out like a murmur.

“You did?”

You were so close now your noses were almost touching. Could see the freckles dotting along the curve of Steve’s jawline, the way his eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks when he blinked down at you, the soft pink of his lips, the little mole at the corner of his mouth.

“Hey you two, quitting time—“ your aunt had impeccable timing.

You jumped apart so quickly it was like you both were at risk of being burnt and the awkward silence that lingered made you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Great, perfect. I’ll just roll the cart back,” your words came tumbling out, a rambling jumble of a sentence and Steve just grinned down at his feet.

Your aunt wasn’t born yesterday, she knew things, so without letting on too much she gave you a big smile and shook her head, “I’ll get the returns, you two go ahead and get outta here.”

“Thanks, Ms. Byers,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Course. Feel free to come by for the barbecue tomorrow too before the fair, Steve. Hop’s making burgers, but I’d suggest driving your own car,” your aunt gave him a little grin and, god bless her, his face flushed all the way up to his ears.

“Hah, yeah, drive my own car. That’s funny.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.

“Pizza tonight, hon. I’ll see you at home,” Joyce said to you, pushing the returns cart to the front, and you didn’t hesitate to take the out.

You didn’t know what was driving your feet across the carpeted library. It could’ve been the feeling you’d gotten, pressed so close Steve you swore he could hear your heartbeat. Or maybe it had been the look Steve gave you, the low tone of his voice, the way he made your brain short circuit, made your breath catch in your throat.

You just knew you had to go.

Turning away from him, your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough toward the giant metal exit door. Hands smashing into the push bar you flinched as a wall of heat hit you square in the chest, Steve’s voice carrying after you.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You pretended you couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t make it easy.

“God, what are you training for a marathon or something–” Steve reached a hand out, fingers brushing against your wrist, and you instinctively pulled your arm away as you turned around.

“What?” you snipped, tone short, the look on your face expectant.

Steve’s expression shifted from irritation to almost like he’d been caught, chest rapidly rising and falling from chasing after you, “I–I just wanted to ask when you were going to the fair tomorrow.”

“Really. You did,” fell out like an accusation, not a question, your brows knitted together skeptically.

“No, I also wanted to walk home in ninety degree weather,” Steve scrunched his face up just like you had earlier, but his was a tad snottier. You rolled your eyes and he softened. “Yes. Really. I did,” a small smile tugged up at the corner of his mouth and you felt the flames lick in your chest again, a heat warmed by this stupid boy. This pretty, brown-eyed, obnoxious boy.

“Not all of us have a BMW, genius,” you bit back the grin that tried to betray you.

“Okay. Well, then I’ll give you a ride.”

The attitude you’d copped stuttered, the look on your face giving you away as his grin game back in full force.

“C’mon, it’s like five minutes.” Steve tugged his keys from his pocket and jingled them at you, “C’mon. I’m not that bad.”

It had only been a few minutes and you could already feel the sticky, Indiana summer settling on you, skin prickling as the sun beat down on you.

“Fine, but only because it’s so damn hot,” you grumbled, crinkling your nose as his grin grew even bigger.

Steve’s car had A/C and damn did it feel nice. Cool air blowing across the bare skin of your thighs, pushing past your cheeks, catching your hair and pulling at the flyaways. It was the first time you’d seen, or was he showing you? A side of him that had been hidden. A tiny sliver of Steve.

It was surprisingly clean, save for an empty can of Coke in the cup holder, and a pile of cassettes were settled into the little compartment above the gear shift. Tears for Fears, Loverboy, Howard Jones. You reached over and grabbed the stack, sorting through them.

“Oh yeah, put that Tears for Fears one in. The whole album is so good.” With one hand on the wheel he pointed with the other, fingers brushing against yours and you suddenly felt hot despite the air being on full blast.

Flipping open the cassette case you popped the tape into the deck and it started mid-song:

Something happens and I’m head over heels, take my heart don’t break my heart, don’t don’t throw it away.

You huffed a small laugh, not thinking Steve could hear you, but then he glanced over a grin playing on his lips.

“What?”

“Oh, n-nothing. I…” you what? “I just didn’t take you for a Tears for Fears kind of guy.”

Steve laughed and your stomach flipped over. You realized you could listen to that sound all day.

“What kind of guy am I?”

“I don’t know, maybe like…Aha or Bruce Springsteen or something. Kenny Loggins?”

The last one really got a laugh out of him and he mimicked puking.

“Kenny Loggins? Oh, god. Don’t get me wrong, Top Gun is really fucking good, but no. No Kenny Loggins,” he looked over at you again, grin still in place. “You probably listen to what, Bonnie Tyler? Cyndi Lauper? I see your trueeee colors shining throughhhh,” he broke into song and you nearly died.

“Wait, I’m gonna need you to keep going,” you said through laughter, turning in your seat to face him, waving your hand encouragingly, “Go ahead.”

“You like that? So don't be afraid to let them showwww, your true colors, true colors–” his grin was edging on stupid and yours wasn’t any better as you watched him. Unable to help chiming in at the end, your voices clashed together in all their out-of-tune glory.

“Are beautiful like a rainbowwwww.”

Steve pulled into the Byers’ driveway as you clapped, still laughing and shaking your head, “Really great. Should quit your day job.”

“Yeah? Think so? I’m pretty shit at putting books away. Maybe you’re onto something.”

He shifted into park and silence settled in the car. It felt thick. Like your laughter had lingered and transformed into something else. Something loaded and you realized Steve had turned to match you, knees pointed toward you as much as they could be.

“So. When are you gonna be at the fair?” he asked again and when you glanced up at him he wasn’t grinning anymore. The expression on his face was earnest, genuine, curious as his arm moved to rest over the back of your seat.

A soft oh, escaped you and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, but you didn’t shy away from it, “Uh, I dunno. Probably like eight or something.” Your fingers played with the frayed hem of your shorts, heart hammering against your ribcage.

“Okay. Meet me by the ferris wheel. I’ll be the idiot with a giant soda and cotton candy.”

Meet me. You couldn’t help it then and maybe you didn’t care if it gave you away as a grin tugged at your lips, “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yeah. I am.”

So brazen. Confident. No room for doubt. A laugh rooted mostly in shock escaped you and you narrowed your eyes at him, “I don’t like Coke.”

“S’fine. I’ll deal," his lips pulled up into a grin to match yours, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“And blue, not pink cotton candy.”

“Done.”

“Okay, genius. Ferris wheel at 8.”

“Ferris wheel at 8.”

Another beat of silence, your eyes still locked on each other, and Steve’s grin slipped. Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his hair and dropped his gaze, but it was only a second before he looked back up at you, “Can I–can I try something?”

You felt your pulse quicken at your neck, heart fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird stuck in a cage. “Depends…” your voice was barely above a whisper as Steve leaned in closer, the same scent of cedar and spearmint and leather and boy making your head swim.

“On?” his voice had dropped just as low as yours and god his nose was close enough to brush yours.

“If you’re good at it or not,” somehow you matched his confidence.

“Oh, I’m good,” and then he closed the last tiny sliver of air separating the two of you, catching your bottom lip between his and your eyes slipped shut.

You swore you’d left your body. The kiss was slow, languid, curious, sweet. Steve was so soft and warm, full of summer and the sun and light and god, you wanted to kiss him forever. As he pulled away you found yourself wanting more, but instead bit your lips in against a smile. When you looked back over at him he had the same look on his face and he gave you a smirk.

“Well?”

“Pretty good,” you tried to play coy and he mocked offense.

“Pretty good?”

“Yeah, but don’t be too hard on yourself. The second time is usually better.”

Somehow his grin grew. “Second time,” he repeated as if to make sure you were being serious and when you didn’t rib him on it he leaned back in his seat. “Okay then, princess. I’ll see you tomorrow and you can give me a proper review.”

“I’ll go easy on you,” you teased, undoing your buckle and getting out. As you shut the door behind you, you heard your window roll down.

“I won’t need it!” he called after you, still smiling like an idiot as he leaned over the passenger seat.

“Goodbye,” you waved him off as he backed out of the driveway, Cyndi Lauper suddenly screaming from his car speakers, all scratchy from the volume being turned up so high.

“YOU WITH THE SAD EYES, DON’T BE DISCOURAGED, OH I REALIZEEEE.”

“Oh my god, please get out of here!” you yelled and he kept singing, driving back the way he came as his fingers drummed on the steering wheel, hair caught in the breeze with the windows rolled down.

Ferris wheel at 8. Ferris wheel at 8. Ferris wheel at 8.

SOMETHING INFINITE SYNOPSIS: hawkins, indiana, 1987 – your mom is out of town for the summer on business and she sends you to live with your aunt joyce and her husband jim in hawkins while she’s gone. joyce works at the library and jim is the town sheriff – the kids, will, jonathan and el slowly warm up to you and it’s after you get in with them that you really start to feel at home, but there’s one person who just annoys you to no end. one person you’d love to just boot off a cliff – steve fucking harrington.

♥️ find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic

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of-twilight-and-moonshadow · 1 year

Text

Sinister Debut - Emery x Elite

Part of my Dark Angel of the Bullet Club series

I have to admit, I had a lot of fun writing the sinister version of Emery. I might do it more often. We'll see. In the picture above, you can kinda see what I was aiming at for her appearance. The hair color/style, makeup, eyes, and her outfit.

Following this (at some point) will be

Healing ((BTE happenings after the match, between Elite and Dark Order))

--and--

Phone Call ((aftermath of the match, following BCC in their locker room as Mox figures out a solution to their Emery problem))

Word Count: 4,329

Tag List: @blxxckheart @summertimefun1982 @katries @himbos-hotline

(if you want added to the tag list, please let me know. You can say 'all' to be added to all four, or specify, between NJPW, WWE, AEW and Dark Angel)

Warnings: violence, swearing, OC essentially loses her mind?

(divider by)

Brandon and Nakazawa stood backstage, stretching and mentally preparing themselves for their match. Time was ticking away quicker than either would like it to, but they had no other choice. They would do this to avenge their fallen friends, even if it meant getting their asses kicked. As he bent over, stretching his arms toward his toes, Brandon began thinking and realized something strange.

“Hey, Nak.”

“Yeah?” the shorter man replied, looking up from his spot on the floor as Brandon stood back up to full height.

“Have you seen Emery at all today?”

Nak paused, his face scrunching up in thought before he shook his head, “No, I haven’t. Not since Friday.”

“That’s weird. I… I kinda thought she’d be here… ya know?”

“Yeah…” Nak gave a solemn nod before adding, “Maybe it’s best she’s not, though.”

“Right. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt. The Bucks—and especially Kenny and even Hangman—they’d never let me hear the end of it if Emery got hurt on our watch.”

Nak nodded in agreement before they heard the familiar ��Wild Thing’ music play in the background.

Their time was up.

“No sense in delaying the inevitable, I guess,” Brandon frowned, holding a hand out to help Nak up off the ground, “You ready?”

“As I’d ever be. Are you?”

“Don’t have a choice, do we? Let’s just… go out there and… if we go down, we go down swinging.”

“Take one of them with us,” Nak gave a stern nod, his hands on his hips.

“Definitely. Let’s go then.”

The two of them made their way towards the go-position, unaware of the chaos that was about to ensue, as someone watched them from the distance.

She was shrouded in darkness, the shadows of the equipment hiding her well. Blue hair hung loosely around her face, which was covered in dark makeup. The piercing red eyes that peered out from behind the curtain of blue hair gave her an ominous presence, made even worse by her emotionless stare.

Emery was long gone and had been for hours now; the Dark Angel had even come and gone. What stood in the shadows was someone that only had been seen once in the past ten years.

All of the emotions that had broken Emery over the past month—heartache, loss, helplessness, hopelessness, tiredness, and betrayal—had awoken her deepest darkest being.

Minutes ticked by as she stood there, still as stone, ‘Wild Things’ done playing as the ‘Elite Anthem’ begins to play. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

The Sinister Angel stalked towards the ring, a sickening smile appearing on her face. It was time to play.

-Meanwhile-

Kenny walked all around his home, looking in every room as he called out for her, “Emery?”

He had sat down to play a game earlier in the day, and she had been right beside him. It was their usual day-off activity, but he had noticed Emery seemed more quiet than normal. Her smile had seemed forced, and it was as though her mind was elsewhere.

Emery had promised Kenny she wouldn’t get involved in the match that night on Dynamite between Blackpool and Elite—or… what was left of the Elite. Brandon Cutler and Michael Nakazawa were all that was left—besides Emery—and easy targets for BCC. Kenny knew Emery could handle herself in a match—that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that Blackpool had no qualms about attacking anybody and everybody and had no problems making people bleed. The last thing Kenny wanted was for his Angel to get hurt.

Frowning, Kenny made his way to the only room he hadn’t checked yet—the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and he carefully, quietly pushed it open in case she was napping. But the room was empty.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Kenny thought as he turned to leave the room—until something caught his eye. The closet was closed, but the light was still on inside. Walking over, he slowly opened the door, curiosity flowing through him. Emery was not inside, but from the mess he saw, Kenny knew she had been at one point.

“I wonder what she was looking for…” he thought, scratching his beard as he reached down to pick up a box. The lid was on top but seemed to be thrown on in haste. Taking a quick look at the contents before he shut the lid, Kenny froze in place as he recognized the contents.

“No… no—” He quickly set the box down on an empty shelf nearby before quickly shuffling through Emery’s clothes in the very back of the closet.

“Please let it be here, please let it—” Kenny whispered, his eyes wide. When he reached the wall, it felt as though his heart stopped, and he stood there in a momentary daze before shaking himself out of it. Hurriedly, he pulled his cell out of his jean pocket and dialed Matt’s number.

“Hey, what’s up, Ken?” Matt answered.

“Nick still there with you?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” Nick asked as he joined the conversation, worried.

“Emery’s gone—and so is her outfit for Sinister.”

“Shit,” both brothers replied, “You don’t think she’s--?”

“Oh, I know she is,” Kenny frowned, grinding his teeth as he raced down the stairs, grabbing his keys and running out the front door, “You guys don’t have to—I know you’re still hurt, Matt. But I’m going—I ain’t about to let BCC get their hands on her.”

“I’d be more concerned about her hurting BCC,” Nick said as a beeping sound was heard from their side of the call.

“If it was just one or two of BCC, yeah,” Kenny agreed, “But not four of them. We’ve seen how Mox can get sometimes. He won’t hesitate.”

“True. We’ll meet you at the arena, Kenny,” Matt told him.

“Just be careful. I don’t want you getting more injured than you are—and we know how Emery would feel if you did.”

“Yeah, we know. I’ll be careful—let’s just…. Let’s save our family, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Kenny tossed his phone into the cupholders between the seats as he drove, focused on the road as his jaw clenched in both worry and frustration.

“Dammit Emery, you --how could I not have noticed Dark or Sinister coming back?!”

-Back at Arena-

Emery stood in the shadows, watching the match from behind a curtain. It had only been a few moments since the start, but BCC already had the advantage. Both Nakazawa and Brandon were bleeding, the red liquid pouring down from the tops of their heads. Yet, neither refused to give up.

As she stood there, her hands clenched and unclenched, her short black nails digging into her palms each time she closed her fists.

They had started at a disadvantage, as Mox and Claudio had ambushed Nak and Brandon on the ramp and attacked them outside the ring before the match even started. Both men were clearly in pain but kept going, refusing to go down without a fight.

It was when Emery noticed Yuta taking cheap shots at Nakazawa outside the ring that her head tilts to the side. The anger and darkness inside her began to boil over as she stalks past the curtain that once hid her from view. Calmly, slowly, she walked towards the ring, dragging the black kendo stick behind her, the scratching on the floor like music to her ears—though at this point, she heard absolutely nothing.

Not even the crowd’s cheers and gasps when they saw her registered in her mind. Her red eyes were focused on the ring – and as she got closer, each member of Blackpool Combat Club stopped their attacks, staring at her. Mox nudged Claudio, gesturing towards Emery like ‘what the hell?’ as she stood five feet from the ring.

Slowly, she raised her free hand up to the hood on her head and pushed it back, revealing her blackened face as she stared a hole at Mox, ignoring the other three members for the moment.

Yuta stared across the ring at her in shock; this was not a version of Emery he knew, and to be honest, he was a little terrified.

The crowd around was cheering for her, chanting her name, but the voices didn’t reach her consciousness as she slowly crept into the ring, ignoring the referee’s warning. Mox waved him off, doubting that Emery would do anything at all.

“What’chu gonna do, lil girl?” He taunted her, a smirk on his face, “Playing dress up and make-believe again?”

Claudio chuckled beside him, his arms down at his side.

Nakazawa came out of nowhere, pulling on Claudio’s arm and turning him around before he began chopping at the taller guy’s chest. It caught the Swiss man by surprise, but with a swift knee to the gut and some elbow strikes to the back of the neck, Nakazawa was back out of the picture. As Claudio stood up, Mox began to walk towards Emery, a cocky smirk on his face until Emery finally moved. Her grip on the kendo stick tightened, her legs tensing to keep her balance, as she suddenly swung her arm towards Mox. The wood connected with his stomach with a sickening crack sound, the impact causing Mox to stumble backward and grip his body in pain. Claudio looked at Emery in shock, surprised she had actually done anything as the referee called for the bell ending the match as Bryan and Yuta climbed up onto the apron. Mox held a hand back at them, telling them not to get in the ring as he straightened up and glared at the woman in front of him.

“You think you got balls, eh--?” Mox sneered, stalking toward her once again- but she was ready. Her lips twisted up into a devilish smirk as she gripped the kendo stick with both hands and quickly spun around. The impact caught Mox directly on the back and the side of his ribs; she didn’t stop there, though, as once the sound reverberated around the area, she pulled the weapon back and made a quick succession of attacks. Ten seconds later, five blows in, Claudio quickly crossed the ring—causing Emery to avert the attack onto him. As the wood made contact with his ribs, Claudio closed his arm around it, stopping the kendo stick from moving.

“I don’t want to—” He tried telling her, but she was past listening. Emery let out a blood-curdling screech, causing Claudio to wince from the close proximity to his ears before launching herself at the taller man. The sudden force of her body against him caused him to tumble backward, landing on the matt as she rained down fists against his face. Bryan and Yuta quickly climbed through the ropes to stop her, Bryan being the one to wrap his arms around her mid-section and pull.

Feeling his arms snake around her, Emery locked her legs around Claudio’s and began scratching and clawing at him as long as she could. The instant that Bryan had a good grip on her, Claudio slid away from her, causing their legs to untangle. Another loud wail escaped her throat, making Bryan wince from the high pitch so close to his ear, holding on as tight as he could as she thrashed about against him. Yuta stood there, unsure if the person he was seeing was actually Emery; he was doubtful, but a part of him knew it was her. He would know that voice anywhere.

“Wheeler—do something!” Bryan yelled out, snapping the younger man out of his daze.

“Like what?!”

“Find something to hold her down!” Bryan ordered, his grip on Emery slacking the longer she fought against him. Mox had made his way back to his feet as Yuta climbed out of the ring and began looking underneath it for a form of restraint.

“Lil spitfire—” Mox smirked, actually liking what he was seeing from her. If he had known this side of Emery existed, he would have tried harder to bring her into the BCC. Emery clenched her hands onto Bryan’s arms, digging her nails into his skin as far as she could and dragging her hands back.

“Son of a---!” Bryan yelled, letting her go as he grabbed at his arms; long lines of blood began to trickle onto his skin from her scratches. Darting away from the three guys, Emery slid to the outside of the ring and disappeared under as they followed. Pulling back the apron, they were surprised to find her gone.

“Where the hell is she?!” Mox yelled, frustrated, as Claudio released the apron. They circled the ring, kicking at a beat-up Brandon and Nakazawa as they went. Suddenly, the lights began to flicker before going out completely. Nothing happened for a brief minute—until the sounds of metal on skin sounded, and shouts of agony came from Mox and Bryan. As the lights came back on, Emery reared back and heaved the steel chair forward, crashing it against Claudio’s back twice in quick succession.

She was breathing heavily, but a smile was plastered across her face; a noise from behind her caught her attention, and as her head snapped around to look at it, the smile on her face disappeared. When her eyes landed on Yuta, he froze in place just a few feet away from her. Handcuffs and rope were in his hands, and despite knowing he should snap out of it and restrain her as he was instructed to do, Yuta just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Ree….” He whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. Slowly, she turned around, her head tilting to the side as she eyed him curiously. Foot by foot, Emery stalked towards him, her eyes never leaving his. Eventually, she was chest-to-chest with him, staring up into his brown eyes.

Brown eyes that once held adoration and love for her.

Brown eyes that had taken pleasure in attacking her family.

Brown eyes—that had shattered her heart.

A smile crept its way onto her face, and for a split second, Yuta thought he was in the clear until another high-pitched scream came from her, and she spun around. The heel of her foot left the ground, coming up to smack him in the head, throwing him off balance; the rope and handcuffs in his hands fell from his grip. She took the opportunity and launched herself at him, knocking Yuta to the ground—but before she could attack further, strong arms wrapped around her and yanked her off of him. The force of the pull caught her by surprise, her hands going to the arm around her throat and digging her nails into him. Mox grunted out in pain but refused to let go, instead falling backward onto the floor and wrapping his legs around her smaller frame. As Bryan reached down to grab the rope and handcuffs, he glared at Yuta but didn’t say a word to him.

“Bring her over here, Mox!” Bryan ordered as he walked over to the corner of the ring.

“One sec—” Mox said, tightening the grip on her a bit; the lack of oxygen began to take effect, and her struggles began to weaken a bit. When she was nearly limp against him, Mox pushed her off of and into Claudio’s waiting arms; he took her over to Bryan, who grabbed one of her hands and placed her stomach first against the ring post. Seething, Bryan slapped one of the metal handcuffs around her wrist before giving the other one to Claudio to secure her other wrist. This effectively gave her nowhere to run to, no way to get away from or attack them.

“Just for good measure,” Bryan huffed, taking the rope and circling it around her and the post just as she began to regain consciousness. He tied the two ends as tightly as he could and stood back, a smile forming on his face as he watched Emery fight against the restraints to no avail. She began screaming at them, much to Bryan’s annoyance; he lifted the apron and looked underneath, finding a toolbox and pulling it out quickly. Opening it, his eyes brightened as he saw the duct tape, and without hesitation, Bryan ripped a piece off and looked at Mox with a nod. Mox walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her head again, locking her in place, as Bryan forcefully applied the tape across her mouth, silencing her for the most part.

“Now… where were we?” Bryan asked the other members of BCC before they wrapped around the ring and grabbed Nakazawa and Brandon, tossing them into the ring to inflict more punishment. As they go to resume their attack, they’re met with some resistance, as Brandon and Nakazawa fight back, throwing punches of their own. It doesn’t last long, however, as the blood loss begins to become too much. Mox grabs Brandon’s wrists and began stomping against his face while Claudio stretches out Nakazawa and jabs elbow strikes into his neck area.

Yuta stands at the edge of the ring, watching as he tries to drown out the muffled yells coming from behind him. From her spot, tied to the post, Emery had no choice but to watch the attack on her friends. Her wrists began to redden from her fighting against the handcuffs, the skin going raw.

The timekeeper clangs on the bell, trying to get help out to the ring, but no one comes out. Mox lets go of Brandon momentarily, ripping off his protective mask as Yuta began throwing punches at him before stepping on his throat. Claudio lifts up Nakazawa, delivering a powerbomb, before kicking the unconscious man out of the ring. Mox exited the ring, grabbed a microphone, and threw the bell away from the table.

“Where are the Young Bucks? Where’s the Cowboy?” Mox asks as he hovers near Emery, taunting her as he mentions her friends; he walks away, circling the ring as he continued,” Where is that goofy ass looking Don Callis? Where are they? I’ll tell ya where they are. They’re still at the hospital!”

Claudio pressed his boot into Brandon’s face as Yuta kicked at him. Brandon tried covering up to protect himself, but he couldn’t. Yuta keeps attacking as Mox and Claudio stand side by side and look out at the crowd.

“They got glass jaws. Glass brains. Glass egos. They’re a bunch of bickering little babies. That’s not Elite. This right here--- we put the Elite in All Elite Wrestling.” Mox threw the microphone down onto the floor, turning around to continue the beat down on Brandon until a piece of familiar music flows through the arena.

At the sound of ‘Battle Cry’ the crowd cheers loudly, but the once soothing music doesn’t seem to register in Emery as she continues pulling at her wrists, blood slowly beginning to surface on her skin from the strain. Kenny stalked out onto the middle of the stage wearing light-wash denim blue jeans and his sneakers. His shirt had been abandoned somewhere backstage—when he had found a monitor and saw what BCC had done to his Angel. The anger was evident on his face—tonight, he was not playing around. Mox and Claudio had their attention on him as Yuta and Bryan continued kicking at Brandon.

Kenny pointed at the ring as he began to stalk down the ramp, stopping halfway and gesturing for them to bring it. As much as he wanted to look at Emery, he didn’t—if he did, his resolve would falter, and he’d want to go to her. Right now, he needed to focus on BCC.

Mox shrugs, telling Claudio, “I’ll do it,” as he exited the ring and sat down on the apron, mouthing off to Kenny.

From behind Emery, Matt, and Nick sneak out from the crowd, but it’s like she doesn’t see them. When they notice her state of mind, both brothers become extremely worried—and very pissed off. They slide into the ring behind an unsuspecting Claudio, Yuta, and Bryan. They turn around to see what the crowd was on about, only for Yuta and Bryan to get taken out by stereo superkicks. Claudio charges them but is met with a double superkick; with them causing a distraction, Kenny jumps Mox, who had his back turned, throwing punches at him. Kenny rolls Mox into the ring as he and the Young Bucks all team up on Mox. Matt and Nick are kicking while Kenny continues punching away at him.

Matt takes a moment and walks over to Brandon, who leaned in a corner against a turnbuckle, blood trickling down his face. Nick looks to the corner opposite of them at Emery and goes to walk towards her, only to be stopped by Kenny.

“You know how she is when she gets like this, she’ll only fight you—just wait… a little longer…” Kenny frowned, hating the idea himself. Nick gave him a hard nod, understanding and regrettably agreeing with his friend before grabbing one of Mox’s arms. Matt rejoined them and grabbed Mox’s other arm with his good hand, and performed a V-Trigger as Kenny climbed out of the ring. His blue eyes landed on Emery, and for a split second, he hesitated.

His heart was yelling at him to go to her, to help her—but he knew he couldn’t. It would only do more harm to her in her current state of mind. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Kenny looked under the ring as Claudio jumped up onto the apron. Nick quickly pushed him off as Kenny grabbed the large black toolbox that Bryan had opened to get the duct tape, closing the lid and sliding it into the ring.

Matt and Nick stood to the side as Mox used the ropes to slowly haul himself back to his feet, watching Kenny pick the toolbox up. Using both hands, Kenny’s features darkened, and he began to run at Mox with the toolbox as a weapon but stopped short as Matt stepped in his way.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Matt told him, holding a hand out. Kenny slumped back, a frown on his face as Mox gave a smirk, thinking Matt was helping him. Matt’s eyes slipped past Kenny, landing on Emery, before he looked away, blinking. Mox took the moment to kneel down, watching and waiting to see what would happen.

The eldest Buck reached into his pocket and, with an expressionless face, pulled out a screwdriver, holding it in Kenny’s direction. Nick pointed at it as he looked at Kenny, talking to him and encouraging him, while Mox began running his mouth.

“No--- No---” Mox shook his head, a bit of fear in his eyes as he realized what was coming. Kenny slowly stepped forward and delicately took the screwdriver from Matt’s hand, looking at it for a minute as the Bucks turned to Mox and delivered some stomps, knocking him back into the corner.

Mox spat in Matt’s direction, leaning on the ropes as he edged them on, “C’Mon!”

Kenny held the tool in his hand like a murderer with a knife as he stared down Mox; the determination was in his eyes as he listened to the muffled screams of Emery. She was beginning to tire, her energy waning quickly as blood dripped down her arms and onto the floor.

“Oh, I’ll come on,” Kenny told him before charging full speed at Mox. Claudio and Bryan quickly grabbed onto their friend, pulling him out of the ring just in time as Kenny reached the corner. The screwdriver plunged into the top turnbuckle—exactly where Mox’s head had just been—and it stuck. Quickly, BCC hopped the divider and slowly began exiting through the crowd. Nick climbed onto the ropes, looking out at them as Matt and Kenny stood behind him, watching for a minute. Kenny noticed the noise coming from Emery had disappeared and looked over his shoulder. He could see her body beginning to sway and quickly rolled under the bottom rope, hurrying over to her.

“My poor Angel baby,” Kenny murmured, reaching up and gently prying the tape off of her face. She groaned from soreness and how tired she felt, her eyes briefly flickering open to see Kenny standing there.

“I’m right here, my Angel. Rest now…” he told her, and instantly, her whole body slumped. Kenny had been prepared and instantly caught her, supporting her body with his. Matt and Nick quickly joined them outside the ring, occasionally glancing in the direction that BCC had disappeared.

“Nick, grab that toolbox—let’s see if there are some bolt cutters in it,” Matt said to his brother, who gave him a nod and slid into the ring. Luckily, there was a cutter in the bottom compartment, and Nick hurried back; carefully, with Matt’s help, he cut the rope apart, and it fell to the floor below them.

“Think there’s some keys back there for these?” Nick asked as Matt assisted him, holding the short chain of the handcuffs so Nick could cut them as well.

“Should be,” Kenny nodded, leaning down and placing a hand behind Emery’s knees as he lifted her up into his arms.

“Let’s hurry up and get her backstage to a doc. I haven’t seen her like this in years,” Matt said as they hurried around the ring and up the ramp. Kenny kept quiet and stone-faced as they walked through the back towards medical, seething on the inside.

Blackpool Combat Club would pay dearly for this. He didn’t care what it took and how much it might hurt him in the end—but Kenny would not let them get away with hurting his Angel like this.

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whorehausen · 2 years

Note

because of the recent taunting, 6. “sweetheart”, ethan page/eddie kingston

Eddie and Ethan make me so soft! I need them to either have a full-scale feud and fuel me or be besties again because I can't cope with this snarkiness with no context. Ethan didn't start an entire ass highspots show to keep Eddie in wrestling only to get mad at him when he did that and did everything Ethan told him he was going to do. I just don't believe your honour. cw: some very mild mentions of self-confidence issues/ body issues.

“Oi! Ethan!” Eddie calls but Ethan ignores him. He isn’t in the mood to explain himself to him right now. Not in the middle of a dynamite taping either. They are at work for god sake. Keeps walking but he should know better than he to think Eddie would just drop it. “Eh! Sweetheart, hold up!” he calls and the pet name makes his blood boil. “Don’t fucking ‘sweetheart’ me Eddie!” Ethan growls back at him turning around to hiss at him. “I’m not your sweetheart,” he tells him pointing at his chest, directly between all his chains and rosaries.

“Then don’t ignore me when I’m calling on you. I know you heard me” he huffs at him. “What’s going on with you lately?” he asks him and Ethan just shakes his head at him.

“I don’t know what you're talking about” he lies easily and tries to turn away from him but Eddie catches his wrist too tightly in his hand to let him go anywhere.

“Hey! Papi! Come on. All these years and you can’t tell me you’re pissed off at me unless it’s over Twitter or on TV? C’mon now. Stop playing with me. What I do to piss you off so bad?” Eddie tries to joke with him but it only makes Ethan angrier.

“Fucking let go of me, Eddie. I’m not playing with you. I’m just done with you – there’s a difference” he growls. “Go find one of your goddamn twinks to annoy if your bored”

“That what all this is about? I’m not paying you enough attention, pretty?” And god that smug smile of Eddie’s drives him wild and makes him want to punch him at the same time. “Ain’t my fault you’ve been so busy lately. Shit. You’ve barely had time for me since you got here. I thought Sky and all them boys were keeping you busy and taken care of. All your fancy’s and expensive things. Been walking around here like you were too good for me all of a sudden. I start playing with some other people and you're going to get jealous on me E? We’re too grown for that babe” Eddie tells him and despite the smirk on his face Ethan knows there’s something truth and some pain in those words.

“I never said I was too good for you” Ethan huffs at him. “That’s your own bullshit, told you a long time ago don’t put that on me” but he doesn’t quite meet his eye.

“Yeah but you also used to tell me when something was bothering you and not avoid me for weeks so you got my attention the old-fashioned way. So what’s going on?” Eddie asks him boxing him in against the wall making it impossible for Ethan to get away from him. Eddie’s cologne and the smell of cigarettes hit him and making his heart pick up a little bit too quickly.

“I didn’t think you’d take him up on it” He mutters looking down between them both, not meeting his eye as shame washes over him.

“Who? Take who up on what?” Eddie asks him and of course, Eddie doesn’t care when it’s been eating him up inside for weeks.

“Garcia,” he says and tries to look away from him but Eddie scoffs out a laugh.

“It was you. You told him how to get my attention” Eddie shakes his head.

“Course it was me, think he came up with all that on his own? Doesn’t have the brain cells” Ethan snaps.

“So if you told him how to make me want to fuck him and you haven’t been coming around to me – why you so worked up about it?” Eddie asks him and he hates when he has to spell things out for Eddie. Hates that he’s jealous of a 23-year-old kid more.

“He’s so fucking young. And Pretty. And Small” and he hates how the spits the word small out but Ethan's struggles with his body issues haven’t exactly been a secret. Lost count how many times he and Eddie have spent car rides across state lines talking about their struggles. “and it’s not even just him. It’s Takeshita too and every other goddamn kid running around here wanting a piece of you, suddenly noticing you because you're hot shit. I was there before all of that” he huffs.

“You don’t think I know that?” Eddie asks him softly bringing his hands down onto his waist. “Only reason I finally gave in and fucked Danny is because he was pushing all the right buttons – buttons you told him how to push sweetheart – he’s not my usual type” He points out. “We were never exclusive but we both know when I had you I wasn’t messing around with anyone else. It’s you who left to go seek out other people, not me. So don’t act like you suddenly aren’t enough for me when it was the other way around” he shakes his head at him that same hurt look flashing across his face.

“I didn’t stop coming around because you weren’t good enough. Stopped coming around because I didn’t want everyone thinking I only got signed here because I was fucking you” Ethan whimpers out finally looking back up at him. “Then you were fucking all those younger guys and I just figured you didn’t want me around anymore. I’d aged out or wasn’t the right type anymore or whatever” he mumbles. Sounds stupid when he says it out loud to him and isn’t letting it buzz around in his head for hours on end.

“Sweetheart” Eddie sighs cupping his face between both his hands softly. “You know you’ve always drove me wild right? Didn’t matter what size you were, we’ve always had something. But you are in the literal best shape of your damn life. Of course, I’m still attracted to you, of course, I still want you. Why’d you think I’m always doing stupid shit trying to make you laugh? Why I was sad when you stopped doing the vlog cause I didn’t have an excuse to come annoy you anymore. I’ve missed you, babe” Eddie tells him gently.

Ethan feels like an idiot. They’ve both been avoiding each other thinking they didn’t want each other for no god damn reason.

“You got anything else to do around here?” Ethan asks him and Eddie shakes his head. “Good. Go get your shit. We’re going back to the hotel” Ethan smirks at him and Eddie nods.

“Yeah, just one more thing,” he tells him and before he can ask Eddies leaning in and kissing him in that way that makes Ethan’s knees weak.

#Mjeffss #my fic #my writing #prompt fill #prompt request #Eddie Kingston #Ethan Page #Eddie x ethan #Esquared?#Eddie kingston / Ethan Page #I haven't written these two yet how are my voices for them?

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c4rdsharp · 1 year

Text

GRAHAM SPECTER. ( @closedcoffins )

“What? Hey, what? You’re telling me I don’t have the market cornered if I own the corners? What kind of sick and messed-up world is this?!”

That part of the equation is naturally what he focuses on first, because Graham obviously knows dogs and cats can’t just stand up and talk. He’d been talking out of a frenzy of speech—not everything someone says has to make sense, or at least that’s the philosophy Graham sometimes employs. When he’s not bemoaning his own inability to make sense, that is.

“Hey, seriously, why would you let me carry on about cornering the market like that if I haven’t even cornered it? I only have those four businesses. Except, actually, I don’t even have those four businesses! That’s right; what I told you just now was a conjecture based on a thought I had, but… You’re telling me my thought was totally wrong? Does that mean I was leading you astray? What kind of friend AM I that I would just lead a friend of mine astray like that?!?”

Switching gears completely on his lament, Graham lets his head sink down until it rests against the wood, arms splayed carelessly over the surface as well.

“Since you already knew, I guess there’s no harm done… But in that case, you really hurt me by telling me I was wrong, there, because now I’ll carry this guilt with me for the rest of my life. Maybe ignorance really is bliss. I’ve heard people say that before, but I think it’s true. Ignorance is bliss. You knew I was wrong, and I didn’t know I was wrong; now that I know I was wrong, I feel bad. It’s all beginning to make sense to me. Yeah… Yeah, I’d rather live in ignorance. Knowing too much is a miserable thing…”

Suddenly and without warning, Graham’s head shoots up.

“Only, what if I’d told my little story to someone who didn’t know? Hang on, did you really save me from the fate of ACTUALLY lying to a friend?!”

“ . . . you may interpret my actions as such, yes. “

Much like anything else with Graham, there was a lot to unpack within his semi - long, deranged monologues. He constantly bounced back and forth between topics, often with various errors or misinterpretations, and Luck was never sure where to start. It was a whirlwind of speech, a hurricane going 150 miles per hour. If you weren’t careful, the wind could knock you over and push you around. Now that he thought about it, listening to Graham speak was not too dissimilar from the sensation of being trampled . . . if he could extrapolate what that sort of feeling might entail, anyway.

Of course, the best course of action to move this conversation along was to answer the last thing he said first, then redirect to where Luck wanted to aim. He had to be careful, though, or else he might set off another tangent.

i don’t think it particularly matters, he considered, watching his comrade pick himself up from the countertop, he’ll go off on another tangent anyway. what’s the point of evading a landmine when the entire ground is packed with dynamite?

Luck didn’t really mind Graham’s inane ramblings ; compared to most people who have walked into the Coraggioso, he was . . . rather tame. So long as no one was itching to start a fight, but Graham knew better than to get into scuffles with any of the Gandor men on the property and had been at the other end of Luck’s visceral ire once before. Hopefully, he’d have learned his lesson . . . all the same, he wasn’t that volatile & it never went beyond that of a fight. Between this and attempted murders, Luck preferred the former. At the very least, Luck could correct the errors made, not the injury on his men or pedestrians.

“ however, if truth be told, even if this were not the case and you had quote - unquote 'lied' to me . . . well, it wouldn’t really be a lie. yes, it would be a factual error, incorrect, even false, but not a lie. lying implies an intent to mislead – your actions, or rather your words, indicate to me that you had no real desire to lead me astray. you had thought your knowledge was sound, and went along on a hypothetical. your words, as incorrect as they may have been, were borne from authentic sentiment. as such, i would not personally accuse you of falsehood. “

There was no real comfort in what Luck had to say ; he wasn’t trying to be comforting, although Graham may perceive it that way. Rather, he thought Graham’s emotional harangue grew too far from the point of objectivity. Not that Graham has ever really tried to be objective when he went on tangents, but it didn’t really sit right with Luck to call this some sort of lie. Ignorance, yes, but a lie? That was different. Regardless of Graham’s own views, words did have meaning.

“ and, there is nothing to be ashamed of having been corrected. this is how one learns, after all ; if you were completely free of error, you would truly gain nothing from experience. rather than thinking yourself foolish for having been ignorant, consider yourself to have gotten smarter from this exchange. after all, you did learn something, didn’t you? “

. . . well, perhaps he wasn’t so cold as to not give Graham something.

#( in character. ) nemo me impune lacessit #( thread. ) graham specter / closedcoffins ; 001 #( main. ) if there was any difference at all it was just one thing: they were villains.#// so many of our threads are from old legacy posts jvdbkvdjsbk #// goddamn

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kenta-koma · 2 months

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Alias/Name: Kenta (or Arima on Discord) Height: 169cm Birthday: July 10

Hobbies: RPing, making icons, mobile/video games, watching TV/movies, coding

Favorite Book: Harry Potter and Eragon/Inheritance series Favorite Color: blue, white, black

Last Song: BTS’s ‘Dynamite’! // last listened to on shuffle -MHA Bakugo muse is yelling profanities in the background, lmao-

Fun Fact About Me: Since I wear glasses, some/most of my muses/faceclaims wear them too!

Recent Read: Fairy Tail : 100 Year Quest (manga) Last Film/Show: Marvel’s Loki (Season 2)

tagged by: @the-silver-peahen-residence, thank you! tagging: YOU if you haven’t done this already!

#kenta plays : dash games

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jonathantoubin · 1 year

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TOMORROW! OAKLAND! NY Night Train SOUL CLAP & DANCE-OFF at thee newly revitalized STORK CLUB with @THE_OKMONIKS followed by all night getdown to the raw exuberance of my feelgood 45s and the MIDNIGHT $100 DANCE CONTEST! I’m bringing the SOUL/FUNK/R&B/BOOGALOO/ROCKSTEADY/BEYOND dancefloor dynamite you need! I haven’t done a gig at THE STORK since the 1990s when I was a musician and am so thrilled to return in the 21st Century as @halloween_meltdown_i_love_you just put so much time and effort into giving it a loving restoration and I can’t wait to experience the new and improved icon in all of its revitalized, redone, and reborn glory! Tell yr Bay Area peeps to CATCH THEE CLAP! (at The Stork Club Oakland California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkjWj4tSOip/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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fulldreamsahead · 2 years

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Shifting Mall Dimensions

Barring some sort of mistake, I believe this the last of my backlogged dreams I’ve found while cleaning up my computer. This dream is from February 21, 2020.

Last night I had a dream where I think I may have tapped into some cosmic truths i was not prepared to know... I was at my local mall (which for the record closed almost a year ago) which had somehow merged with my local college. It had been converted into some sort of school and I was in love with a boy named Joey. I did my best in classes, but was falling behind. One day, between classes, I found Joey and he was playing a video game version of a board game. I asked if I could join him and I was really excited when he said yes. While playing the game, I find Joey to be flirting with one of his male friends rather aggressively. After a few rounds, Joey wins and celebrates by making out with said friend. I’m devastated, but I hold it together as it’s finally time to go back to class. Instead of sadness, I start to get this worsening sense of dread that I cannot overcome. Our curriculum for the day is to identify a new type of sea life. I go to the ocean which happens to be accessible by one of the ‘anchor stores’ of the mall and I dive right into investigating. I'm fascinated to learn that instead of looking for new species, some of my classmates have taken to growing colonies of oceanic bacteria as a means to spawn a new type. Something about watching the students and staff research these tide pools makes me hyper aware that something is very wrong...

...Since I have ‘searched’ for some time, I go to my teacher and tell them that I cannot find anything. The teacher dismisses me to keep looking so I go back out to the sea. Since I’ve exhausted the tide pools, I go down a pier and there is a cluster of students at the end of it. As I get closer I realize they are bickering and as a group they seemingly unanimously turn on one particular boy. They throw him into the water, but the pier stands to high above the ocean for him to get out. I scream at them about what they’ve done and they all tell me he’s gone. I’m flabbergasted because he’s doggy paddling right below us and one of the students reassures me that it’s all going according to plan. I watch in horror as another kid pulls out a stick of dynamite and lights it before tossing it right at the boy in the water. I scream as it detonates and I can’t see the boy anymore. I turn back to scream at the group, but they’re all gone. I spin around searching for where they have gone, but I can just see a group of teachers running towards me. They heard the explosion and, since I’m the only one around, they’re blaming me for it. Eventually a ambulance boat arrives down in the water and the teachers keep asking me what I did. I told them I have no idea what’s happening, but that I had no part in this. I explained what I watched happen, but am interrupted by a commotion down in the water.

I turn to see a diver with a lifesaver in the water with the boy hunched over in it. I exclaim ‘he’s alive,’ but watch in horror as another diver surfaces with a leg. More and More pieces of the boy continue to be gathered and I feel sick. They pass the pieces to the main boat and the sea seemingly runs purple from the blue water and the red blood. The color is hypnotizing and when I look up finally, everything is different. I’m all alone. I start searching for anyone, but there is just not a soul around. The converted classroom nature of the main mall area is completely gone. It’s back to the hollowed out carcass of a dying mall, but there are all these objects scattered about. They seem like objects people lose; single socks or car keys. Some of them emit that a sort of glow that’s that same shade of purple. I just know the color is wrong, even though I can’t explain it. I reach some stairs that lead to the second floor of the mall that I haven’t explored yet. I run down the line of store after store, but they’re all empty. As I hook around to go down another line of stores, I see some back down on the bottom floor. Another ‘lost’ object, a bear-skin rug, but it’s emitting an orange hue. I inherently know this is meant for me and descend the stairs once more.

For some reason, I do so as quietly as possible, as if I’m not longer alone. On cue, there’s a baseball bat waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs so I take it. I creep down to the store with the rug and it’s no longer a rug, but a live bear. It’s facing away from me so I ready myself to take a swing at it with the bat. As I do, the bear sheds it’s ‘skin’ and reveals that it’s Negan from the Walking Dead. It dawns on me that the bat is Lucille, but the wire and nails are gone. I run my fingers over the smooth wood as I try to solve this puzzle. I look back at Negan to see that this store isn’t empty as I previously thought. It’s stocked with Christmas decorations. Negan finally turns around and looks at my curiously. He asks if I’m OK and what’s wrong with me that I’m holding a bat. I can’t speak and he oozes that devilish charisma. He asks if I’m scared and I take a step back. He steps forward to match me and calls me a frightened little thing. I take another step back and he wonders why I’m so scared considering the mall is packed. My face screws up in confusion.

I turn around and the mall is suddenly packed to the brim with people. I walk out of the store and see the mall is decorated to the nines with full Christmas decorations. When I turn back Negan is dressed as an employee of the store with a Christmas sweater and name tag on. I know this is all very wrong. He tells me that this is the grand opening and he offers me free promotional milk and cookies. I stare blankly and he comes around to lead me over to a table stacked with the described treats. I still have the bat and it scrapes the floor as I’m led. He mentions that it’s a nice bat I have there. I quickly retort that it’s my bat and he can’t have it as I stare at the cookies. He tells me not to worry and that he wouldn’t take something from such a scared little thing. He says that scared little things are usually firecrackers though; real skullbashers. Something about that turn of phrase makes him smile. He pats my shoulder and says there’s only one name for that: Lucille. He says he’ll call me Lucille and I start to back away from him. As I do so, I bump into the back of my teacher who originally told me to keep looking for that undiscovered species. The color disappears from her face and she starts to scream at me about how I’m not supposed to be there. I ask what she means. I start to notice the people around me are the other people from the ‘school.’ The teacher continues to yell and sewed back up, like Frankenstein’s Monster, is the purple boy from the ocean. He’s that sickly purple hue and his skin is bloated from the water. Someone beside me mentions how I’m not supposed to be in this reality and I start to try to shove my way out of the store. I can hear Negan talking to my teacher about how I didn’t take a cookie because I’m allergic to lemons. In my head, I wonder how that can even be possible. I’m not allergic to lemons. The cookies weren’t lemon cookies. How could Negan know what I’m allergic to? There’s more whispers as more people start to ‘notice’ I’m not supposed to be there.

Fear floods me as I try desperately to fight the tide of people. Suddenly a hand grabs my forearm and I hear a voice tell me that I can save this world and many others. I search desperately with my eyes for the source, but I can’t seem them among the crowds. The voice tells me to I just need to stay safe and that’s when I awaken.

#me #dreams #mall #school #negan #christmas

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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 2 years

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Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (39): Thu 21st Apr 2022

Tuned into last night's AEW Dynamite where Tony Khan's big announcement was, as people already speculated, that AEW and New Japan Pro Wrestling will be putting on a super-show in June entitled "Forbidden Door". Hopefully this show will be the new equivalent of ROH's War Of The World show back in the day. WOTW used to be the best of ROH vs the best of New Japan but then all the ROH main eventers fucked off to WWE and so WOTW became the best of New Japan vs what was left of ROH. Adam Cole got some great heat by interrupting Khan and delivering the announcement himself. I'm guessing that at the show Cole will either be wrestling Okada as the AEW champion in a champion vs champion non-title match or will be challenging Okada for the New Japan Pro Wrestling World Title. As much as I love Hangman Page and as good as his matches during his run have been they haven't really done that good of a job of showcasing him as a big deal. Although his feud with Danielson was really good the quality of his feuds have gone down significantly since then. A lot of the time Page in the CM Punk 2008 world title spot where he's the champion who's segment normally ends in the middle of the show. I like that AEW often give the main event spot to something that isn’t the world title but I think that for 90% of the time the world champion should always end the show. Rather than going for a face champion vs face champion match I'm guessing they're going to do heel Cole vs face Okada. To be honest though if they did this then it would look like they had lost faith in Page. Maybe they should do Okada and Page vs Cole and Jay White in the main event and if Page or White score the pinfall they get rewarded with a shot at the title of whoever they pin. If AEW and NJPW want this to be a mega show which I'm guessing they do I would also have the ROH world title and the Impact world title be defended at the event too just to bulk up the star power factor and make it feel like as big of an event as they can. I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of a super show they end up putting on. If ROH and NJPW (mainly New Japan) could sell out Madison Square Garden with their show I have no doubt that AEW and NJPW could sell out much bigger venues every year if they wanted to make this an annual event. This weeks show also featured a really good match between CM Punk and Dustin Rhodes. I’m not sure what the right way is to book Dustin Rhodes going forward but he’s still capable of putting on incredible matches. He could be used to put over the younger guys and I dare say he’s probably got another title run in him. Maybe start a storyline where Sammy Guevara brags about killing off the Rhodes family and then have Dustin step up defend the family’s honour and win the belt in the process.

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jiminwiththepinkhair · 3 years

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since i am going to be waking up at 4am for txt’s cb i’ve decided i might as well do a live blogging tag

#i haven’t done this since dynamite #i didn’t want to bc i already know i’ll be doing it for BE #+ BE comes out in the middle of exams week for me #but like #whatever #live blogging blue hour

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starfire-s · 3 years

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okay but not the grammys acting like they created rights for asians just because they nominated bts for a song... but like the song that they chose is predominantly in english so did they actually do anything?

#very happy for bts don’t get me wrong #but they have better songs in their discography than dynamite #and that’s that #the grammys are rigged anyways so it doesn’t matter but yeah it sucks that they’re acting like they’ve done a lot when they haven’t???#kpop #komal talks #this has been bothering me for a while but i felt like i didn’t have a right to say anything #since i don’t know anything about anything lmao

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daechwita · 3 years

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let’s hold hands and hope for a halloween dance practice

#the way they haven’t done one since 2017......#cmon boys do dynamite in cute costumes i am begging

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praisehoes-and-runovervirgins · 3 years

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Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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You hold the last box of your belongings close to your chest and take a deep breath nervously pressing the button to your new home. Wow, that sounds weird. Sharing a home with the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Your chest tightens. “God, I better not fuck this up” you mumble to yourself as the pent house suite door opens. Noah stands in clear view of the door as it opens. You walk into the apartment. “Y/N'' he yells at the top of his voice. “Where were you? I didn’t see you. I was worried, '' he said all in one breath. He wraps his arms around your leg and takes a deep inhale.

You look at him confused and put the box down. You have to tear him off you so you can kneel down to give him your daily bear hug. As you do, you notice his teary puffy eyes. You look at him puzzled then suddenly, almost like something in you woke up you panic, “Are you okay baby?” you grab him by the arm and turn him around manically looking for a source of pain. He doesn’t answer. You grab his leg and pull his PJ's up to continue looking for some sort of bruise, anything physical that would explain him crying. “He was crying cause he didn’t see you” a voice said walking past you and Noah. You look up at Liam grabbing a piece of fruit from the counter. His face looked disinterested. “He woke up and he didn't see you, he thought you left,” he said, rubbing the apple on his shirt. You lock eyes for a moment as you try to read into his expression. Fuck, he’s just like his dad, so hard to make out what he’s thinking. The sniffles coming from Noah make you break your eye contact. You look at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay Y/N. I’m okay. Please don’t cry. I just thought..” he jumps on you again, this time throwing you both onto the floor. “I’m not leaving Noah” you say, squeezing him tight. You didn’t even notice when your eyes were wet before Noah pushed back on you. He wipes the tears out your eyes. You smile at him softly. A few moments with Noah went on about how he’s so excited about your room and how it’s really close to theirs. Where’s Bakugou? You look around distracted as Noah goes on. “He’s upstairs” Liam says walking towards you with a napkin. He hands it to you and turns on his heel as he takes another bite of his apple. You sit there stunned, holding the soft piece of tissue in your hand. “Did you hear what I said?” Liam says, grabbing your face with both hands and then smashing his face into your neck. “Let’s go find your dad, yeah?” you say as you start to pick Noah up.

Bakugou is on the floor, legs crossed as he’s holding a piece of your unmade bed frame. He has his phone pressed against his ear and shoulder. “I already told you I don’t want to go on another date with her” he growled into the phone. “Well, that’s not my problem. I don’t care what the public thinks about us.” he says a little louder. “Daddy!” Noah says running, throwing himself on his back. “Hey buddy” Bakugou says, ending the call in one swipe of his finger and tossing it on his lap. “What were you talking about?” he says, gripping Bakugou's neck a bit too hard. “You're trying to kill me buddy” Bakugou says, letting out a quick laugh as he releases Noah's hands off his neck. They sit there laughing for a little. I love seeing them like this. It’s so different from how the rest of the world sees him. Bakugou looks at you leaning on the door and cracks a smirk. “Are you gonna come into your new room or what?” he says, turning around to face Noah again. You feel like the wind was knocked out of you when he looks at you even for a second. I’m going to have to live with this man. You got this y/n? You steady yourself and walk over to them. You kneel down on the floor next to Bakugou, “Do you need help? I am pretty helpful with these types of things” you say taking the piece of wood off the floor. “For starters, this was supposed to go in that thing” you say giggling. “Ah fuck” he says rolling his eyes. “HEY, WATCH YOUR MOUTH” Noah scolds him. You all break out in laughter. You spend the rest of the morning setting up your new bed set. You told bakugou that you could just use the one you had in your old apartment but he insisted on getting you a new one. You can appreciate all the things he does for you, since you’ve almost moved in he’s gotten you the best of the best; everything from fancy towels to new hair products for your hair type.

“We’re off to the park” Noah screams at the top of his lungs towards your bedroom at Bakugou. He wouldn’t be louder if he tried. But then again, look who’s his dad. He usually doesn’t raise his voice around me but when he does, oh boy is that grown man loud. The walk to the near park was one of the best, Liam actually was talking to you about his classmates and how one of them has been giving him problems. You try to come up with a plan of how to deal with it. “If I tell dad, he’s going to make a big deal about it. I already get enough attention as it is.” he explains when you asked why you haven’t told Bakugou. “Well, I’m happy to hear you out. I’m not as hot headed as your dad” you laugh. He cracks a smile as you put an arm around him as you’re walking. After a few moments Noah bust between you both and yells, “are you guys done talking? I want a hug too” he says scrunching up his nose. You hug both of them. Noah pulls you close, puts his hand on the side of his mouth and whispers, “without him please”. This child is going to be the death of me. You pick him up and swing him into your arms. “You’ll have to let me go, we’re here guys” you say as you put him down. They both run off in different directions. You sit there on a bench taking in the warm sun. I can honestly do this everyday. This feels like.. You’re stopped mid thought when your phone starts to vibrate. Oh, the alarm I set for earlier. Well might as well check social media. I haven’t had much time since moving. The first thing you look at is twitter, you follow a few of your friends and some popular celebs.

“Did you hear about Dynamite and his new girlfriend?” you overhear two women say as they walk past you and take a seat on the next bench. What? “Oh my god. They look so good together. I would die to trade places with her”. You sit still for a moment trying to gather your emotions. Who is she? Why didn’t he tell me he was dating someone? I thought. I-I don’t.. You grab your phone quickly, opening it and going to twitter again. You search up, “Dynamite and” and there it is. You stare at your phone for a bit. There she is, a beautiful tall slender blonde woman arm in arm with Bakugou. You sigh in disbelief pushing your back into the bench. Why does this hurt so much? Fuck. Why do I even fucking care? He’s not even.. “Hey, are you okay?” says a deep voice. You turn your head, noticing the very handsome man next to you. “Yeah” you say, taking another breath. “You don’t sound okay” he says looking deep in your eyes. His hair is black as night and his eyes are deep purple, you can honestly get lost trying to figure out how many different shades there are in them. “Yeah, I just got some news.. I wasn’t expecting it” you say shifting your eyes down and moving some hair out of your face. “I bet. Boyfriend?” He says as he watches your face carefully for a reaction. You let out a slight giggle before letting out a breath and bite your lip, “no”. The man and you sit in silence for a minute. Fucking hell. Why do I feel like shit right now? This hot guy is next to me and all I could think about is you wrapped around another woman. Fuck this.. You lay your eyes on the man again. He’s about Bakugou’s age with a very muscular build, he has a couple white stands in his hair, he’s beautiful. “Which one is yours?” you scooch over towards him. “The little one over there” he points at the kid playing with Noah. He stretches his arm to rub the back of his head, you can clearly see him clearly stretching his muscles. You almost laugh out loud. Trying a little too hard buddy. You both make conversation for a while. It doesn’t take long before He’s asking you on a date, you accept of course. Maybe seeing someone else for a couple hours will help me get over this.. whatever this feeling is. After a few more minutes Noah comes over to you all sweaty trying to hug you. “Let's go home” you say with a smile. I feel like shit but I can’t even show it. This kid can read me like a fucking book. Okay, put on a smile y/n.

A few days have passed since you saw the pictures of Bakugou and his “girlfriend’. When you came home that day, you couldn’t even look at him. Why the fuck am I acting like he betrayed me or something. I’m just the nanny. Get a fucking grip y/n. Still, you tried to avoid him as much as possible. When he walked into the room, you would walk out, you ate dinner in your room unless Noah asked you to stay with him and you tried everything in your power not to look at him in his eyes. You were butt fucking hurt to say the least. After a few days you get the courage to talk to him. You take a deep breath before knocking on his office door. “Come in,” he says lazily. He’s sitting in his chair facing his computer typing away. He stops and cocks his head over his shoulder to look at you. You can do this. You need to do this. “Do you need anything?” he says, turning his head back at the computer with his hands still on the keyboard. “I-I I won’t be home Friday night. I don’t know what time I’ll be back” you say almost in a whisper. “Oh” you’ve caught his attention now. He turns off the monitor and swirls in his chair to face you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck “I checked your schedule and I saw you work till about 3. That gives me time to..” you say waving your hand around like a child explaining something. “Yeah, that’s fine” he says, eyeing you up and down. You look nervous, like you have something you’re hiding. “Cool” you say, taking a deep breath as you turn on your heel about to make a run for it. “A date?” he says in a low deep almost bitter tone. I was so close. I WAS SO FUCKING CLOSEEEE “Yeah.” you say turning back around to face his him. “With that guy in the park?” He says looking you up and down almost like he’s looking for a reaction. “Yeah, How did you..” you look at him confused. “When you guys came home Noah told me that you were upset about something while you were in the park and this guy started talking to you,” he said, crossing his arms. Why do I feel like I’m getting fucking scolded. “Yeah, I was pretty upset about something" you look away from him. How can I say: Hey, I was upset that you're dating a blonde supermodel because… well, I don’t know. Also, please sign my check sir without sounding like a total psycho. You quickly snap out of that thought as he stands up and slowly walks over to you. You’re still staring at the floor as he stands in front of you. “Is that why you haven’t said a word to me for days?” he says in a low tone, still arms crossed but this time biting his top lip looking for your eyes. You slowly look up at him. He’s so big and muscular next to you. He’s also wearing your favorite outfit. Those sweats and tank top combo will be the death of me. Your eyes finally meet his. In this moment you’re lost in his eyes, the intensity that’s usually there isn’t. You can’t quite put a finger on what he’s thinking or this unknown expression plastered on his face. It feels foreign but nevertheless it knocks the wind out of you. You feel your heart rate increase. “No” you say after some time staring into his eyes. I don’t believe her. “Okay” he says with a sigh. “Okay” you say back to him looking away. Tears start to form in your eyes as you walk away from the office. You take a moment to catch your breath in the hallway and turn back towards his office. Your body almost moves on it’s own. Maybe I should cancel. I don’t even- I don’t want anyone- Before you can knock on his door again you get a twitter alert. “Bakugou and girlfriend were spotted kissing in the park two days ago” it read. The pictures in the tweet were bad, you can barely even tell if they were kissing or not but It still made your chest ache. Bakugou opened the door to see you squinting at your phone trying to zoom into the picture. “Change your mind?” he said leaning on the door frame. You jump up and step back, you didn't notice how close you guys were. “No.” you say looking him dead in the eye. “Why would I? I am so excited” you say with a broken smile.

Bakugou and you don’t speak for the rest of the day. You are both noticeable in a bad mood.. “What’s wrong with daddy?” Noah says to Liam as Bakugou stomps around the house while you’re hiding in your room. “He’s jealous,” Liam says looking at Noah. “I have a plan, wanna help?” he says, smiling at Noah. Noah gives him the same devilish smile back.

Taglist: @lil-miminini @bqkuho3 @xoxo-teddybear @candybabey @butterflyhallucations @sizzlingdonutturtlemuffin @hay-leeeah @speedmetalqueen @yourfavoriteblackfemweeb @bakucumsackslut @shipchild @nanamithecute

I'm so sorry it took so long but If anyone else wants to me on the tag list for the next one lmk :)

#mha bakugou #bmha bakugou #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou angst #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #dilf bakugou #daddy bakugou

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