for the ask game! 1, 6, 12, 17, 24!
thank you!!
1. when did you first watch/discover good omens, and how did you find out about it?
ooh thats a good one! one time i was at the beach with my family and my uncle (who is quite the cinephile) was watching it on tv. i arrived just in time to see azi and crowley beating their sentences and swapping back! which means when i actually watched the series i already knew about the body swap lol. this was before s2 even was announced. but i only watched it entirely after i started seeing memes about it on pinterest for no reason (??) so i sat down and watched it. that was also before s2, but only AFTER it came out that i got on the fandom
6. who is your favorite side character?
muriel! i just love them sooo so much <33 cupperty?
12. has your interaction with the good omens fandom been overall good or bad?
pretty good id say. ive seen discourse on my dash but i’ve always avoided it and ive never actually been part of any
17. what is your favorite husband-y moment between aziracrow?
oh i wouldn’t know! i love their moments from s1 lol but i think… “our car” and “our bookshop” are top close with “do we know a jim?” soooo married lol (yes none of these moments are from s1 im just contradicting myself ig)
24. what's a theory for season 3 that you NEED to be included?
ok i was going kind of wild with the theories in the beginning but now im kinda… chill? i dont really care, i trust Neil will do a great job with our husbands as he always has <3 but if i had to pick one, aziraphale completely wrecking shit up in heaven. in a structural way i mean (which is what probably is going to happen so not much of a theory… yeah idk)
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sorry for my inactivity, irl stuff is hitting me really badly AGAIN. i keep saying this but ill try to finish my queued comms
I appreciate your patience
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i do not like tumblr much anymore again :(( anyways important stuff in the tags! but tldr just hmu if you want my discord or twitter, won't be gone from here completely but yeah <3
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hai im still alive <3
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x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+゚
in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.
warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.
a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!
“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.
“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.”
“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.
“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”
Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why is he your boyfriend?”
“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”
“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”
You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.
“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”
“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”
Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames.
Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.
“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”
“Really?”
“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”
She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.
“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”
“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”
“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”
“Will he fly away too?”
“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”
She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.
“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”
Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.
“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”
“Oh? What’d she say?”
Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.
“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”
“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”
“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”
His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.
“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”
Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.
“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”
“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”
“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“
“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”
“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”
“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.”
He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.”
Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.
“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words.
Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to.
You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.
Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”
“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.
When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.
But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.
MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!
I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3
---
Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.
'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.
'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'
Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.
Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.
'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'
And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.
'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'
'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'
Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.
'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.
'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'
'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'
'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'
'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.
'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'
Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.
'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'
Read pt2 here
(Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)
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have you seen the commentary from the p5r artbook going around? the shuake part of my dash is losing it a bit at the implication that their wishes were mutual!!! that seems to be what some people are getting from the commentary at least… amy insights?
Hi! I have been through the artbook. It's great, isn't it? :D
The image above is called "One Ending", and the creator caption (by illustrator Akane Kabayashi) reads:
When I think about how Akechi's wish was to play chess after school with the protagonist, I almost want to call him out with "You liked him after all, didn't you!"
Look at that. We're told about Akechi's wish, and what it included. We're as good as told outright that he likes Joker—and this isn't the only time, there's also this:
—There are a whole lot of things we can imagine, based on how the protagonist was depicted as someone special to Akechi.
Those are more or less the exact emotions represented during Akechi's confidant. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)
"someone special" here is 特別な存在 tokubetsuna sonzai—literally "a special presence". It means a special person, and more than that; it describes someone you find compelling, someone you can't look away from, someone who becomes one of your most important people, the centre of your world. It's another term that is often romantic, but isn't necessarily romantic.
(In the same way, I think Kabayashi's suki jan! is more tongue-in-cheek than it is a cast-iron confirmation that Akechi was canonly in love with Joker. The language there is teasing, it's ambiguous, it's baity; Kabayashi is joking. This is a rank 6—as they say, if you know, you know. But it is of course ultimately up to all of you.)
There's another mention of this image, down in the creator interview:
Out of all the Maruki ending illustrations, it was Akechi's that stuck with me the most. It made such an impression to see them opening up as friends, having a fun, peaceful time together like high school students should. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)
What really strikes me in all of this is the emphasis the creators put on the fact that this is Akechi's illustration, Akechi's wish. Because I've thought for a while that we know Akechi has a wish. You can see him struggling with his refusals to Maruki in the first week of January. And you can hear his wish spoken—when Maruki repeats it back to him, during the boss fight, on 2/3:
Maruki
{F1 81}君たちとなら、君も過ちのない道を歩めるかも知れないじゃないか!
{F1 81}-kun-tachi to nara, kimi mo ayamachi no nai michi o ayumeru kamoshirenai ja nai ka!
If you're with {F1 81}―kun and his friends, you could begin to atone for what you've done!
Think about it! With [Amamiya]-kun and his friends beside you, you could choose a path with no mistakes as well!
So this wish has several parts. First, there's that kimi mo, "you also"; it's tempting to read this as Maruki also wanting his new world to erase his past mistakes. Second, there's the first part, "if you're with [Amamiya]-kun and his friends". Where to even start here?
Being with Joker and the others is a prerequisite for the second half of Akechi's wish. It doesn't just coexist, it enables the rest of it. Just like his words in the engine room, "I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier, [Ren]..."
Remember, Akechi's whole arc is about his rejection of trust and friendship, and his insistence on doing everything himself. This is precisely what Futaba calls him out on—"you trusted no one", or "you played life in single-player mode". This is what he unlearns at the climax of the engine room, when he realises he isn't prepared to let the others die—and follows through to save them.
Akechi is nothing without others, and he knows it. Without their support, which he believes he has no right to, he has no hope of living a better life, even were he to be given the chance—and he knows that, too. He has learned, and he has grown—and yet he knows the things he needs and wants so badly are forever inaccessible.
And his wish is about all the Phantom Thieves, not just Joker. There are many tiny references to this end—not least the original Japanese rank 10 line for his confidant, where he sacrifices himself for all of you. Joker is his compelling presence, his someone special, but he's formed small bonds with the others too, God help him.
and then there's the crime thing
The localisation frames Akechi's wish in terms of atonement, but that's not what's on offer. You cannot, after all, atone for things you never did. We see Akechi's wish put into practice, in the Maruki ending, where he appears with his friends beside him, wholly innocent and with unstained hands. And we see it in the first week of January, after he has finally met Maruki and spoken to him:
Akechi: Ah, that reminds me—there was one more thing I wanted to tell you.
Akechi: About the reality Maruki's put us in...
Akechi: It seems that Okumura and Wakaba are both considered alive by all accounts.
[Ren: They're not dead anymore? / What do you mean?]
Akechi: They aren't mere illusions, or cognitive beings—they truly are alive and existing in this world.
Akechi: In fact, their deaths seem to have never taken place at all in this reality.
[Ren: What happened to Shido?]
Akechi: Shido was the only one arrested on the crime of attempting to overthrow the government...
Akechi: It seems the Phantom Thieves were causing a stir in this society as well, but there's no record of your arrest now.
Akechi: Basically, in this reality, you and I haven't committed any crimes.
While Akechi still remembers his crimes, they never took place. They have been undone, and only his lingering memory—and Joker's, at this point—speaks to them. He objects to this on countless levels, he summons all the strength he has to refuse it, but don't make the mistake of thinking that means he doesn't want it. This is Akechi's wish in action.
People are often very certain that Akechi's resolve in the third semester is like iron—that he rejects Maruki's offers right away, is never tempted, never wavers. But that can't be true. We know he's afraid to die. We know about the bad end where you don't complete the Palace, where Akechi says nothing and stares at the floor, seemingly blaming himself internally while all the others blame themselves aloud, for being unable to say no to Maruki's temptations. We know how he responds to this assertion of Maruki's—Maruki, who has perfectly summed up what we know all the other PTs wanted, and who (even if Word of God hadn't just confirmed Akechi's wish) we have, honestly, no reason to doubt.
Because Akechi never refutes this wish that Maruki describes. He never says he doesn't want it. He just rejects it—like all the others, who so desperately want what Maruki could give them. Futaba's mother, Haru's father. Akechi's life, and his innocence. And the people who might have been his friends, if he could dare, one day, to ask.
Akechi is tested just like the others, and the price he pays for his defiance is perhaps the highest of all.
and finally
[The Maruki ending illustrations are] of Maruki's world, where everyone's wishes are granted and they seem happy. The scene shows their actualised wishes, which were never granted in the real world. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)
We shouldn't forget the price Akechi pays for his impossible wish. Sure, the vision of himself being altered like Sumire clearly haunts him, and I'm sure it made the choice easier—but I don't think it made it that easy. Instead of taking the dream Maruki offered him, Akechi chose to face up to what he'd done, and who he'd become; at the very end, in the third semester and in the engine room, he always makes the right choice.
And that choice was taken away from him. Agency over his life and death, his own acts, and who he would even be—Joker and Maruki take it all away from him and make him a puppet, just like Shido.
Maruki's ending isn't pretty.
revision history
Click here for the latest version.
v1.0 (2024/03/29)—first published.
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PSA: CAT MEDICAL BILL SCAM
Please signal boost this if possible to inform your followers about these scams.
Earlier today, I got a message from the account nicole-loves-king, where they asked me to signal boost a post because their cat needed medical help. Here's the ask:
(And you can see the post in question here)
I looked at this post and was immediately put off because they were asking for people to send things through 'friends and family', which if you aren't aware, is a very insecure way to send someone funds using paypal, because you don't have the protections you would get if you used 'goods and services'. So scammers can make off w your money really easily.
I looked at their blog and scrolled down to the end, and I realized their blog was made today! And, all their posts (there weren't many posts to begin with lol) were of trending topics. I noted puss in boots, and welcome to nightvale among others. This is probably how they found me, because I reblogged some of that stuff recently.
Here's the time stamp from their oldest post (notice it says the time, not the date, which means the post was from today):
In their ask, they also tell you to answer privately. Hm, that seems sus. Why would someone not want you to publish a request for help?
So I have a policy where I don't signal boost posts from brand new blogs because, yknow, they could be scams. I posted this, and the scam account blocked me. They also blocked my friend when they replied to their ask and said their blog looked suspicious. I did some more digging, and I found a comment from someone that confirmed my suspicions:
This is in fact a scam!
@nicstonka is almost identical to the above account (nicole-loves-king). Look at the avatar, the pictures, and the paypal address, both accounts even have 'nic' (as in 'nicole') in the name. The only thing that is extremely different is the name of the cat! Yet both blogs also have the name of the cat in their url ('king' and 'tonka'). That should also be a red flag, because usually someone isn't gonna have the name of their pet in their url, only a few posts, and a signal boost for that exact (fake) pet.
Here's a side by side:
Looks at those paypal accounts: nbrunelle519, and nbrunelle391. Nope definitely not a scam /s
And the cat pictures side by side:
Tumblr's "scam" tag is actually full of these reports now, which you can see here. Or if there's nothing there anymore, click here and here for images.
And links to some older PSAs about other cat scams: 1 2 3
So if you see any blogs like this, where all they have is trending posts, it seems like they've copied and pasted an ask to you, or if they're asking you to send things via friends and family, vet them so so so carefully, because chances are you're walking into a scam. Don't just repost things without carefully checking! If you aren't in a position to check carefully, better safe than sorry: don't repost it! Don't let these scams spread.
Pro tip: If a blog is dash only, so you can't view their archive to see when their first post was made, and you're on desktop, you can just open the blog in its dashboard view, then click 'end' on your keyboard over and over until all their posts are loaded. Usually if it's a spam blog, you'll only need to click 'end' 5-6 times, sometimes a bit more, since they only post just enough times to give the appearance they're active, then there's absolutely nothing after that.
If you want more proof someone is a scammer, you can look at the currency they use their post (or the currency shown in the vet bill), then hover over the paypal link and inspect the part of the url that says 'country.x=AA'. The 'AA' is the abbreviation for the country your money is going to! If that country doesn't match the country of the currency shown in the post, it's a scam! Example: someone's post says '$' for USD/CAD dollars, but the country in their paypal link is 'PH', which stands for Philippines, where they use Philippine pesos, not dollars!
Also keep in mind that these are not bots! There is a real person behind these accounts. They have replied to people who wanted to confirm they were real, but their intentions are still to scam you, they just know it looks better if they reply.
Stay safe!!
Edit:
Updating this post to announce the scammer's made more blogs, and they're probably gonna keep doing it! Here's the list so far. This isn't up to date btw, go to @scamarchive and check their pinned post for the most recent detected blogs
turncoatrune, starlightdisc, xxmy, wxnt, eeyore-pg, coatedpeanbean, starrypanelstars, panelstars, scyllostyle, the-nonbinary-witch, aash-aash, leechness, ash-aahs, commandobutch, lovely-pages, pagefive-to-six, reconnecteed, five-and-fourty, stepsapphic, farmer-butch0, health-pages, turnersapphic, lxve, march-pls-be-good, emberful, imse7en, kassidymaygemz, kassidymaydream, dreamingkassidy, kasdream, live-march, confusedskulll, march-lives, criticaltuesday, quicksilvah, wrldy, quicksilveey, the-stucked-pan, flurrbum, o345, nxce, thls, hokkairi, sykdykee, furrtasticbu, bumfurry, supsense, wickdart, the90sbest
Keep in mind you may not receive an ask like the above ones. You may get something simpler like this, instead:
Most of these are cats, but there's been dogs and even people too.
If you wanna get even more info on all these accounts, there's an archive of this scammer's pinned posts and asks here, so you can see at a glance how similar they all are. You can also see a comprehensive list of scammer red flags specifically for tumblr here!
And lastly, you can report the scams using 'report something else' > 'unlawful uses or content' > 'phishing'
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Full House ll - Eddie Munson
Authors Note: Went from cute fluff to straight angst. Sorry?
Warnings: Domestic Violence (not Eddie and reader though), angst angst angst. A fight.
Word count: 10,009 (ohhhhhh boy)
Part l HERE
(THANK YOU FOR THE GIF @feodor-dostoevsky)
(Warning. This chapter contains hints of domestic violence and if any of my readers are going through that you deserve better. I love you all, also Motley will be showing signs of abuse this chapter. It's a long chapter that I'm really nervous about and I really hope you guys like it <3)
Enjoy!
Eddie had been in a pissy mood on Halloween morning of his second year as a senior, mostly because his friends that had graduated last year were all going out to awesome college parties and he was stuck redoing school. Embarrassed and alone.
But he sucked it up, wearing his favorite leather jean combo as he walked into the halls of hell, keeping his head down while people passed by him in a flurry, excitement and laughter in the air.
He had planned to just keep his head down and make it to class, no need to get into something with Harrington and his cronies. He had enough of their teasing and bullshit to get him by for the rest of the year.
Normally it was fine since he had friends, but now he was alone.
A body slamming into a locker pulls his attention to where someone in a rustic leather jacket was slamming one of the juniors into the wall of metal. The kid being assaulted was called Jeff, he was the only black kid in the grade and Eddie had seen him around a lot. The kid didn’t hang out with anyone and seemed lonely.
Shit.
The one slamming him was Billy Hargrove, a new kid that seemed to immediately become one of the cool ones. He spent most his classes not caring and any free time harassing everyone else. Eddie had his fair share of issues with him already.
It would be a good idea to just walk away and let them handle this on their own, but Eddie could not do that. If there was one thing his dad taught him it was that he could take a punch and his Uncle Wayne always told him that you should always stand up for the weaker man. Even if Eddie wasn’t strong enough to beat Billy “steroids” Hargrove, he was strong enough to take a hit for someone else.
A sigh falls through him as he makes his way over, tapping the shoulder of the assailant quickly, the second Billy has his eyes on him Eddie shoves him quickly.
Billy reacts in an instant, hands clenching into his jacket, swinging Eddie around until it was his back being slammed into the lockers. A grunt passes his lips as he sends Jeff a quick look to escape while he can, the kid gives him a grateful smile as he snatches his backpack and dashes off.
“If it isn’t the super senior!” Billy laughs bitterly, pulling Eddie forward and shoving him back into the lockers harshly.
Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him.
“What you doing here bud?! Trying to get your ass-“ Eddie loses some of his patience after the third hit into the lockers and hits Billy’s hands off of him, shoving him back enough that Billy nearly trips over his feet.
Gasps fall from the crowd as Billy glares, staring wide eyed at him as he sneers. Eddie tries to play it cool, the anticipation of a fight howling beneath his skin as he preps himself.
Before they can get into it Steve Harrington pops up, his back to Eddie as he watches Billy. “Not that I don't want to see how the freak handles business but the principal is on the way.”
Billy casts one more glare, walking off quickly as Harrington turns to Eddie.
“You stupid or some-“
“Yeah yeah. We get it Harrington. I’m a repeat senior.” Eddie snaps, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the pain. “Why don’t you find a new joke?”
“Sorry, I was just trying to make sure you were good.” Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his neck before moving to pick up what Eddie had dropped.
“I don’t need help from you.” Eddie snaps, snatching the lunch box he had gotten from Uncle Wayne and walking off quickly.
-
Eddie had spent the better part of that year dealing with Hargroves shit, the only thing that made him feel better was the fact that Steve Harrington seemed to be having his own issues with Billy. Then the summer between his second senior year and his third Billy Hargrove died.
Eddie had avoided the pool that entire summer but he heard about it from Jeff the day the mall caught on fire. The next thing he knew Max was moving into the trailer near his and Wayne’s and everyone was bothering her and her mother about it all but they seemed like they didn’t want to talk about it.
After he dealt with VECNA they all explained a little about what happened, and when El closed the gates and fixed the time warp she ended up bringing a couple people back. That’s how he came back.
No one had seen Billy, so everyone assumed he didn’t come back. Even Barb had shown back up (though her memory was hazy on everything).
Now, Billy Hargrove stood in the doorway of his home, catching Motley when she ran to him with an easy smile. “There’s my baby!”
Eddie doesn’t know what to do, stuck between anger and shock, watching this play out before him as Ziggy grabs at his jaw. The little toddler leans to kiss his cheek, a wet open mouth kiss that normally makes Eddie laugh, but this time he just stands there. Waiting for the “just kidding!” Or someone to pinch him so he can wake up.
“Sugar,” Billy starts, keeping Motley in his arms as he stares at Eddie. It takes him a moment to realize that when he says sugar he is talking to you. “Why is there a drug dealer holding my daughter?”
-
“I can explain-“ you start, watching Eddie angrily set up the crib in your shared room, jaw tensed and eyes heavy with anger. “Eds please.”
“You don’t need to explain.” He snaps, turning quickly. “No actually. You do. What the fuck?”
“I met him a couple years back. Okay? It was a one night stand from a bar, he was new in town and I ended up getting pregnant. After that he said he wanted to stay together because of the baby and I didn’t want to parent alone so I said yes-“
“So you’d rather have parented with a racist jackass then?” He laughs bitterly. You draw back, eyes wide as he does so before he sees you get defensive.
“I didn’t know about any of that. Okay? He was sweet with me for the most part-“
“For the most part?”
“He had moments of anger, sometimes I got hit. But he always made up for it. And then I got pregnant again and I thought I was happy and then….” You trail off then, shaking a bit. “I left for a reason.”
“He hit you? More than once?” Eddie bites out, hands on his hips.
“It was fine-“
“No no no. It wasn’t fine. But the fact that you’re saying it was fine and you say he made up for it means that you didn’t leave because he hit you, you left for another reason.” He sees you get nervous under his gaze and he knows he’s figuring out. Anger coursed through him at the fact that Billy had ever laid a hand on you in the first place but it’s beginning to reach tenfold when he puts the pieces together. “He hit Motley?”
“I-“
“You were okay with him hitting you, which makes me upset that you thought you deserved that, but the second he hit Motley you ran.” He fills in the blanks, watching as you crumble before his eyes with tears falling freely.
“Ohmygod-“ you sob, covering your eyes.
“And that’s why you’re so weird around Max because when you came out here you recognized her, right? And when we all shared the truth of what happened you recognized Billy in it? And you didn’t say anything because-“
“What was I supposed to say Eddie?! That I was dumb enough to fall for it?! That I slept with a racist abusive asshole one night drunk and then agreed to let him move in with me because I was scared even though I knew nothing about him?!” You snap, tears streaming down your face. “You guys would have thought the worst of me. You guys are going to think the worst of me- maybe I should just grab the girls and go get a hotel-“
“Hey hey hey.” He eases, reaching for you as you stand up to leave. His hands find your hips and he pulls you in for a hug. “No. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry-“
“I’m sorry. I’m over reacting and being a pain in the ass because I’m surprised is all.” He mumbles, kissing your head and keeping his nose pressed into your hair. “You are very brave for leaving him, yeah? And I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, you’re not stupid you were just played. You always think the best of people and you are so fucking brave for getting the girls out of there.”
He lets you sob into his chest for a minute, rubbing your back in comfort as he holds you to him tightly.
Eddie was gonna figure this out. He was gonna find a way to get Billy Hargrove out of his life for good.
-
The morning was always filled with excitement, mostly on Motley's part. She loved getting ready for the day, for all the things she would do. She loved talking yours and Eddie’s ear off about the plans for the day. Then she would be crankier when she got home and she knew it was time for bed, but Eddie loved her in the mornings because he loved seeing her excitement.
He wore his glasses in the morning, while he helped get them ready for the day since you both liked to tag team the morning and get the process done faster. This morning was his turn for Motley, who currently sat at the table blabbering on about how she was excited for secret santa while Eddie sat at the stove watching the pancakes bubble.
“-and I keep thinking what if Vinny gets me? He will probably get me the dumbest thing ever and I would be so upset. But what if Troy gets me, oh I hope Troy gets my name- Daddy are you listening?”
“I’m listening, pretty girl.” He smiles, looking over her shoulder where she sat coloring. “You hope Troy gets you. Cause you have a big ole crush on him.”
“DO NOT!” She yells which makes him laugh and turn back to the pancakes. Before he knows it he feels a pair of arms wrap around him, with you kissing along his exposed back slowly while ge fights off the blush.
“You cooking bacon without a shirt, handsome?” You smile and he tries not to laugh.
“I can’t feel half the skin on my stomach anyways.” The scars made sure of that. “You want a piece of bacon?”
“I’ll wait to eat with you and the girls. Did we get any yogurt on our last trip to the store?” You ask, moving to the fridge to check. Eddie takes a moment to admire you before looking to where Ziggy sits in her high chair, playing with a piece of paper that Motley gave her.
“Morning metal head.” He coos, walking forward to kiss her head. She giggles and claps before Motley follows what Eddie did, kissing her sisters head.
“Come here Daddy.” She smiles, and he bends down to let her kiss his forehead which makes her laugh.
He sets them both up with plates, eating breakfast quickly before rushing to get a shirt on as you bring them both to the door to get them in shoes. When he gets back he finds Motley with her arms crossed and shaking her head.
“What’s going on?”
“She found out Steve is taking her to school.” You sigh, trying to grab her foot.
“I want Papa to take me. He said he wanted to!” She snaps and Eddie watches you tense up, choosing to intervene here.
“I got this, go grab her bag.” He smiles, switching spots with you. “Alright. No playing around. Metalheads put their shoes on when told.”
“But daddy-“
“Ah.” He holds up a finger and she sighs before grabbing the left shoe and moving to put it on her right. “Wait. This is a good time to teach you left from right.”
“I’ve got time.” She smiles , watching him.
“Alright. This is left,” he holds out his left hand, the metal bracelet he always wears drawing Ziggys attention as she waddles closer.
Motley holds out her right hand, repeating “left.”
“No. That’s right.”
“I’m right?”
“No. That hand is right.”
“Yeah daddy. I know I’m right.” She scoffs, staring at him like he’s insane.
“No pretty girl. You’re opposite of me, like a mirror. So if this is my left hand you’re left hand would be….” He picks up her left hand, wiggling it a bit.
“Oh. So this would be my right hand.” She mumbles, shaking her right hand.
“Exactly. So if this is your left shoe it would go on…..”
“MY LEFT FOOT!” She yells excitedly which makes him smile.
“You got it! You rockstar!” He helps her tie it, letting her rest her foot on his thigh before switching the feet and tying the next shoe.
“We ready to go?” You ask, coming around the corner and smiling.
“Daddy taught me my left from right, Mommy!” She giggles, rushing to get her bag and holding your hand as you lead her out of the house with Eddie close behind, Ziggy in his arms trying to reach for the bandana on his head.
“Hey Uncle Steve,” she calls, running up to him to hug him. “I know my left from right!”
“You’re a genius kid!” He smiles. You pull her attention, kissing her forehead before kissing Steve’s cheek. Eddie follows, kissing Motley then snatching Steve and kissing his cheek which makes everyone laugh. Ziggy coos the second she sees Steve and he instantly makes grabby hands at her.
“There she is, my pretty little angel.” He coos, bouncing her up and down as Motley climbs in his car between his two sons. Vinny glares while Jackson waves his grubby little hands. The kid was four and thought the best thing to eat was a crayon.
“You know what gender the baby is yet?” You ask, watching Steve with Ziggy.
“No. But Nancy is sure it’s another boy.” He sighs out. “And she wants to name one after her brother.”
“Do we need another Mike?” Eddie laughs which makes Steve laugh as well.
“That’s what I said!”
“Alright, I have to head off. Drop Ziggy off at daycare before work. Have a wonderful day boys.” You smile, grabbing Ziggy from Steve who sighs in disappointment, before kissing Eddie and heading off to your car.
Steve turns to Eddie, a raised brow, he opens his mouth to start asking but Eddie holds up a hand. “Nuh uh. We don’t talk about within hearing age of Motley.”
“Why’s that?” Steve asks, squinting. “She get upset?”
“The opposite.”
“But the guys a massive dick!”
“And that’s her dad.”
“You’re her dad.”
“No, I’m the step dad.” Eddie sighs, something clenching in his gut. “I gotta get going. Thanks for dropping Motty off.”
-
The thought that he was just the step dad stuck, it clung to him like a second skin, sticking like a shadow over the sun. He thought about it while he tucked the girls in, and when he woke them up. He worried over the thought of Billy fighting for custody and turning the girls against Eddie.
He was just the step-dad.
This is what he was thinking about as he changed the oil on one of the cars in the shop, a frown stuck to his face as music played in the background. It was Dylans, the other repairman that worked today, turn for the stereo and he was playing all the rock hits. Which included ‘rock you like a hurricane.’
And all Eddie could imagine was his girls having a dance party but instead of him being there it was Billy. Billy dancing with them to all the music and-
“HI DADDY!” Motley shouts, making Eddie gasp in shock, whipping his head to find her on all fours so she could see him under the car.
“Hi pretty girl.” He smiles, using the cart to roll out from under the car and sit up, whipping the bandana off his hair as she whirls around the car to attack him, roaring like a tiger as she jumps on him. “What are you doing here?”
“School let out early today, they have their christmas party tomorrow and then winter break.” You explain, walking around the car with Ziggy on your hip, still wearing the cute diner uniform. “Motley wanted to come grab you for lunch.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiles, laughing when she slips a bit and he has to catch her before she hits the floor. “Where do you wanna go?”
“Pizza.”
“Pizza?!” He acts shocked, eyes wide as she begins laughing. “Well I don’t know about that…. I don’t really know if I like pizza.”
“You LOVE pizza.” She scoffs, jumping up and dashing to the radio to turn it down. “Does Dylan want pizza?”
“Why thank you for asking little lady.” Dylan smiles, wiping his hands on his suit. “I love pizza.”
“Hear that daddy? We have to go get pizza for Dylan.” Motley sasses, coming back over to snatch Eddie’s bigger hand between her own. “Get uppppp!”
She groans as she tries to lift him, and Eddie picks himself up so she thinks she was able to do it. “Jesus you are strong.”
“I pulled a secret santa today, and you’ll never guess who I got!”
“Troy?”
“No.” She sighs, disappointed for just a moment before her face lights up again. “I got Samantha, she likes jump rope.”
“Yeah? Is that what we are gonna get her then?” He chuckles, moving to wash his hands as you go and put Ziggy in the car.
“Well I don’t know. I don’t want my gift to be too basic and not surprising. But I want to make sure she actually likes it. And do you think-” Eddie lets her ramble, grabbing her hand and leading her to the car as she goes on and on about the ideas she has for gifts.
-
The store was busy when Eddie took Motley Christmas shopping, holding her hand in his own as walked across the street and headed into the warmth. He had been more focused on making sure she wore a coat then grabbing a coat heavy enough for himself.
The second she is in the store her eyes widen and she makes a mad dash to the kids aisle, Eddie right behind her trying to slow her down a bit.
“Alright, take a look and see what you might like to get Samantha.” He huffs, breathing into his palms to warm up his face, ignoring the weird look he gets from a do-good mom passing by in her expensive shoes.
He had gotten used to the looks by now, it’s not like he screamed father with his leather jacket and tattoos, but you always told him that he was a better father than any country club dad you had ever met. And he was constantly lecturing Motley that ‘it’s what’s on the inside that counts’ so how would this be different?
“How about this?” She asks, picking up a barbie car that makes Eddie’s eyes go wide.
“Isn’t there a price limit on this thing?” He blurts, moving to check before she is completely gone and looking at something else.
“Can I get a dollhouse?”
“For Samantha?”
“No, for me silly..” She laughs, like it was the most obvious thing.
“We are supposed to be shopping for your secret santa cheeseball.”
“Oh, right.” She sighs, moving back to the barbies. “How about for christmas?”
“Have you asked Santa?” Eddie smiles, and she shakes her head. “We’ll write a letter tonight, then.”
“Okay.” She giggles before pointing to a ken doll. “Hey daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Santa already answered my wish this year.” She mumbles which makes Eddie look at her curiously. “Last year I asked Santa to bring my dad back. And he did even better.”
Eddie’s heart practically shatters as he tries to smile at her, the vast empty feeling at her words killing him. Of course, what little girl didn’t want her dad on christmas, and she wanted Billy.
-
Steve was suspicious of him the entire Christmas party, giving Eddie the side eye every chance he could while you sat not far off with Nancy gossiping amongst yourselves.
Steve was room mother, and as much as Eddie made fun of him for it his friend was an amazing room mother. He had thrown the class’ holiday party at his house rather than that stuffy classroom so that the parents could come as well. His house, which was already insanely decorated for Christmas, had tons of ‘activity stations’ for the kids to do. Motley and Vinny were currently arguing over what color gumdrops they wanted to put on their gingerbread house.
Charles, Samantha's dad as Eddie found out, had wavered off after talking to Steve and himself for the past hour and finally the two men were left alone. “Who knew parenthood would be just like highschool again?”
“You’re telling me.” Steve snickers. “I feel like-”
“King Steve again?” Eddie taunts, shaking his head.
“Oh no no. You can’t make fun of me since you’re apart of the cool kid club this round.”
“No I’m not-”
“Oh yes you are. Please, everyone talks about you and Y/n. One, all the moms think you are attractive and so gentleman like for taking on the girls. Two. The dads are jealous of you cause you have this cool rock thing going on while still being a parent. Three, everyone loves Motley. She is the class princess. Everyone wants to play with her at christmas, if she shows up to their birthday party then their year is made. Admit it Munson, you’re raising a prom queen.”
“I don’t think I have much to do on that front, and it’s more to do with I’m your friend and you are the Room Mom.”
“Shh not so loud.” Steve mutters. “Nancy has been feeling a little guilty about being ‘less of a mom’ cause she spends all day at work. I tried telling her it was fine but she thinks it’s a bad look that her husband is room mom and not the actual mom.”
“I don’t think it’s a bad look. I think it shows that Vinny is being raised by two people who understand life a little better than other stuck up parents.”
“Thanks pal.” Steve sighs, leading them away so Eddie can go up and check on where they put Ziggy to nap. Steve had been nice enough to set up a little crib in his room so she wouldn’t have to be dragged around the party.
They catch up on everything, Steve complains that he think Jaxon might just be a freaky kid considering the amount of crayons and pencils he eats and how Nancy babies him. He complains that Mike is the worst uncle and never actually helps but always claims to do so.
Eddie catches Steve up on the Billy situation, which had shocked the group to no end.
“He’s been calling everyday, arguing that he should get visitation.” Eddie sighs, taking a swig from the beer Steve smuggled for them.
“That’s bullshit. Tell him no.”
“Y/n is worried that he could fight and get full custody.”
“Why on earth-”
“Because she took the girls and ran. She did it for their safety but the court will never look at it like that.” Eddie sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “All they will see is Hawkins very own mall hero being abandoned as she runs to Hawkins very own freak.”
“Motley and Y/n don’t think of you as a freak.”
“Maybe not. But Motley adores Billy, and that leaves me on the sidelines.”
“That’s not fair.” Steve sighs but Eddie shrugs.
“You know how long I hated Wayne for taking me from my dad? That man hit me and all I did for years was look up to him and try to be better. I pushed away anyone that actually cared. I know what she is going through right now, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that love she has for her dad. Shit person or not.”
“Would you rather ruin her dad for her or have her heart broken when she is exposed to him on her own?”
“I think if he ever hurt her I would actually-”
“Kill him. I’m so in.” Steve finishes the sentence before there is a quick knock on the door.
“Dad!” Vinny whines. “Where’s the gift?! We are doing secret santa!”
Steve sighs, moving to his dresser to grab the wrapped gift before handing it to his son. Eddie waits to follow Vinny, surprised when he turns to him rather than immediately running away.
“Will Motley like this wrapping paper?”
“Yeah? I think she’d love it.” Eddie smiles, watching in shock as the kids dashes out. “He got Motley? Bet he hated that.”
“Nah, he was worried she might now like the barbie car.”
“Wasn’t there a price limit on this thing?” Eddie asks, raising a brow.
“My kid is head over heels for your daughter Munson. Just be happy Troy didn’t get her. Little punk thinks he’s everything.” Steve scoffs, walking past Eddie and mumbling under his breath about Troy being a little shit.
-
There was a new form of hell to Eddie, not having his girls under the same roof was that hell. After a very long argument it was agreed that Billy would get them for the night, they would have a fun time at the shitty motel room.
So, after a long night of pacing back and forth, Billy finally dropped the girls off around noon, smoking easily as he carried Ziggy’s car seat in one hand.
“Really? Right by her?” Eddie snaps, grabbing the handle carefully as Ziggy coos up at him.
“Didn’t think you would be one to care, Munson.” Billy laughs, looking past him to where Motley stood with a grumpy look and her bag around her shoulder. “You used to make sure our class was coked out just fine.”
“Motty go inside.” Eddie sighs, moving to open the door for her, getting a little nervous when she glares and stomps in. “Has she eaten?”
Only when he turns back to ask Billy the jackass is already halfway in his car, sending a cocky smile in Eddie’s direction as he turns the speaker up loud.
Now left alone with the two girls since you were at work Eddie shuffles inside to go find where Motley stomped off to, finding her in her room sitting on the floor and playing with a toy he didn’t recognize.
“New barbie?” He smiles, watching her carefully. This was the first time she had ever gone with her dad and he didn't know what to expect, maybe he had been hoping for a hug or kiss. “She’s very pretty-”
“Papa got her for me.” She bites out, voice dripping with attitude.
“Okay. You hungry? I can make you-”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” She screams, rushing to slam her door in his face, the tiffany poster she had on it staring back at him as he blinks in shock. There had been fits, a couple of screaming fits, she sometimes called him meanie head when he told her not to do something. But she had never before slammed a door in his face.
Not really knowing what to do he decided to focus on bathing Ziggy first, making sure the smoke scent didn’t cling to her before setting her up to eat something.
A couple hours later you came home, a nervous smile on your face as you looked at him only to realize he was upset.
“What happened?”
“She’s upset, won’t come out of her room.” He sighs.
“Let me go check on her.” You mumble, kissing him before heading to her room and knocking softly. “Hey bugs? Why don’t you come out and say hi? Daddy can make something for dinner-“
“Eddie can fuck off!” She screams, which makes you freeze as Eddie’s heart drops and he leans his forehead on the wall.
“Motley Marie-“
“NO!” She screams from the other side of the door and Eddie feels like he might throw up.
“Maybe I should go to Wayne’s tonight?” He offers, shaking a bit as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I need to help him fix the replace his fridge anyways”
“Eds, no.” You mumble, tears welling up in your eyes as you shuffle closer. “She’ll be fine in a bit. We just need to get her to eat and-“
“She’s not gonna come out to eat if I’m here. I’ll come back tomorrow to see if she’s feeling better. Okay?” He tries, rubbing your arms in a comforting manner. “Just one night, maybe she will eat and calm down”
You shake your head, crying, but you both already know the answer. And Eddie already knows this might not work out for him.
-
After packing an overnight bag and heading off he makes it to his Uncle Wayne’s and spends the night there, hoping Motley would feel better if he wasn’t there.
He helps Wayne sort out the kitchen, both of them planning on switching the fridges out in the morning now that his is empty. So, later in the night, Eddie lays on the couch staring at the ceiling.
He couldn’t fall asleep without you beside him and he’s used to seeing the hall light under the door so the girls could see if they needed to get to the bathroom or your room.
He tossed and turned, doing his best not to get too upset at all of it before he began thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.
He never wanted to hurt the girls, and as much as he loved them and loved you there was always that thing about “if you love someone set them free.” So, as much as he hated it, he figured maybe it was time for some breathing space. Let Motley learn about her biological dad for a bit, and he would take whatever he could get even if it was just a dinner a month. Anything to make sure she didn’t hate him forever.
So, around 6am, when he finally managed to close his eyes and get some sleep he had decided that the best plan of action was to give his girls breathing room.
-
When he woke up Wayne was already starting on the fridge, which made Eddie realize just how much he had slept in. Jumping up quickly to start helping, he didn’t think to call you.
They spent the next few hours moving the fridges and getting the new one set up, making sure everything was working before hauling the old one to the junkyard. By the time they were done the sun was going down and Eddie was starving so Wayne offered to order a pizza.
The only problem was your car was at the trailer when they got back, with you sitting on the hood smiling at him as Wayne pulled his truck up to park.
“Hi Grandpa Wayne.” You called which made the older man smile and hop out quickly to give you a kiss before moving to say hi to the girls in the back seat.
Eddie moves to hug you, kissing you deeply before you pull back and smile. “You didn’t call, and we called this morning but no answer so I figured you boys were busy.”
“Sorry. I slept a little late and we were fighting that damn fridge all day.” He smiles.
“We were thinking about going and getting dinner tonight, thought we’d come pick up daddy.” You offer, holding his hand. He casts a quick look to where Motley is sitting in the backseat, laughing as Wayne pretends to steal her book.
Breathing room.
“I actually got more stuff to help Wayne with. That okay?” He could see you visibly deplete, trying your best to keep smiling.
“Of course that’s okay. Just don’t forget to call okay?”
“I won’t.”
“You wanna say bye to the girls?”
“I….Not tonight.” He feels like he’s stabbed himself in the gut and twisted the knife, his throat tightening up with the urge to cry. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You mumble. “And you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
“Right.” He smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek. When you kiss him one last time you move to Wayne, tearing up a bit.
“Enjoy your handyman Wayne. But I expect him back tomorrow by dinner, got it grandpa?”
Wayne, to his credit, smiles politely and nods. Mumbling something about making Eddie work overtime as you laugh, he hears Ziggy blubber sadly, probably upset that she’s in her car seat.
He spots Motley when you open your door to get in, leaning against the window already staring at him. There is a glum look on her expression and Eddie feels that stab wound tighten. She hates him, she can’t even smile when she sees him anymore. Billy must have told her what a fuckimg freak he was.
Instead of crawling into the hole he wants to, he merely raises a hand slowly to wave, attempting to seem like everything was fine.
She raised her own hand, and Eddie thinks he’s mistaken when she presses it to the glass of the window as you drive off.
“You okay?” Wayne asks, rubbing his boys shoulder.
“Not really.”
-
True to his word Eddie calls the next morning, only to be surprised when he hears Motleys voice answer.
“Hello?” She asks.
“Hey Mot…ley.” Eddie panics , thinking that she might now like her nicknames now. “I called for your ma.”
“Oh.” She mumbles, obviously disappointed that it was him. “I can go get her……”
“Not if she’s busy, okay? I can call back later.” He hears her set the phone down and scamper off, feet hitting the hardwood of the kitchen as she rushes to find you. A couple minutes goes by and he hears both your voices trickle back into hearing distance, probably from the downstairs hallway.
“- dy Eddie. He just wanted to talk to you.” He hears Motley mumble, and that shooting pain was back. Eddie. She called him Eddie again.
Panic claws at him as he hears your footsteps get closer and he hangs up quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes.
-
After helping Wayne around the trailer he returns that evening, feeling lame and tired. Kicking his shoes off in the doorway, hearing your music downstairs which tells him you had probably started reading once putting the girls to bed.
He planned to shower and then go see you, so he makes his way to the room, shucking his jacket off and tossing it on the bed in the dark.
“Heyyy.” Someone whines, making him stop and look to the bed to see Motley climbing out from the blankets and pillows, eyes wide. “Watch it.”
“Sorry kid,” he smiles, moving to grab the jacket. “Didn’t see ya there.”
She giggles softly, moving to the middle of the bed and turning on the light before going back to her spot. He gives her a soft smile before moving to grab clothes and heading to the master bathroom only for her to call out.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He asks, turning with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry I was mean and hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I made you mad.” Tears well in her eyes as she says it which makes his chest clench.
“Hey hey. I’m not mad.” He says softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, she immediately crawls over and crawls into his lap.
“You are! That’s why you didn’t want to come home!” She cries. “You hate me now.”
“No no. Take a breath.” He tries to calm her down, rubbing her back in soft circles as she sucks in a deep breath.
“I made you mad…”
“You didn’t make me mad, I just had to help Grandpa Wayne with some stuff. He’s old now. He needs help.” Eddie offers, still rubbing her back. She calms down a bit, face pressed into his chest as she slowly puts herself back to sleep.
He carries her into her own room, making sure she’s nice and comfortable when he tucks her in before going back to the master bedroom to shower.
When he comes back out he finds you waiting on the bed, a smile smile tugging st your lips. “Hey stud.”
“Hi baby,” he whispers, moving to lay down. He gives you one kiss before laying down and shoving his face into the pillow quickly, desperate to sleep.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, rubbing a hand on his back.
“Nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Just wanted to give her space is all.” He sighs.
“She loves you Eddie.”
“I know.” He lies, closing his eyes to sleep
-
Motley spent the next day at the Harrington household while Eddie and you went to shop for some last minute gifts you hadn’t gotten at the beginning of the month.
With Christmas being only a week away now you were beginning to panic and Eddie was doing his best to ease your anxieties as you tried to think of what the girls would want.
“I think we got everything.” You sigh out when you make it to the car, Eddie pushing the cart filled to the brim with bags as he rubs your back. There was something off about you today and he felt guilty that he hadn’t come home until late last night.
“I think we did.” He moves away only to open the back of the van, beginning to pile all the bags in before he hears you gag and dash to the chunk of grass he parked near.
“Shit- “ he snaps, tripping over himself as he tries to get to you to hold your hair. “You okay? Nervous about Christmas?”
“Y-yeah…” you whine, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose to wipe the snot after you finish puking. “Over stressed myself is all.”
He sighs, helping you up and getting you set up in the van before moving to finish his original task.
He spends the rest of the day making sure you’re okay and wrapping the gifts. He tries to change his handwriting on the tags so Motley would think other people were signing them. Make her think she got a gift from Santa and the elves and one from Mrs. Claus before he took his coffee grounds and make a hoof print on the gift he had made from Rudolph.
He hides them all in the basements laundry room, moving to wake you up when he’s done.
-
Two days before Christmas Eve Motley and Ziggy go with Billy again, and Eddie makes himself scarce when they are dropped back off the next day, wanting to give Motley room to breathe in case she needs it.
He hides in the basement, keeping his headphones in as he practices guitar, hearing the echo of stomping around upstairs. She had come home in another mood, that much he had figured out by the sounds of her yelling when she came in.
The phone rings in the distance and Eddie ignores everything as he practices more riffs until your in front of him with a small smile. “That was Gareth. They wanted to rehearse? Asked if you could head over.”
“Oh?” He asks, standing up. The perfect excuse to give Motley some space without hurting anyone’s feelings had just arrived and he was gonna take it. “I’ll head over now.”
“Are you gonna be home for dinner?” You ask softly, face tense with worry and exhaustion.
“We’ll probably practice too late.” He sighs, kissing you before moving to walk away.
“Eds?” You call, making him look back at you as you stress. “Y-you’re okay…… right?”
“I’m okay.” He lies. Really he feels pathetic, useless, a lame ass excuse for a stepdad. ……he feels like his father.
She just needs space. He thinks to himself, smiling at you. But deep down he already knows it’s not working. He loves his girls but if they don’t love him back then he is just dragging them down.
And his heart breaks at the thought of the inevitable.
I don’t wanna say bye.
As he passes the hallway to pack clothes for the night he sees that the Tiffany poster on Motleys door had been ripped down the middle, and he risks a peek in to find it the missing piece wadded in the trash along with her fleetwood poster she got around thanksgiving.
Sighing in defeat he shuffles to grab his bag and head out.
-
The morning of Christmas Eve he wakes up to find that sometime in the night Motley had crawled into bed with you and Eddie, curled up between you two with tear streaks down her face.
Nightmares, nasty little things.
He kisses her cheek lightly before getting up to get ready for work. By the time he is putting on his boots he finds her yawning and sitting up.
“Are you leaving?”
“Only for a bit.” He tries to sound positive. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Swear it?” She asks, eyes wide.
“Triple swear it.” He smiles back, and something eases in him when a smile breaks out across her face, going from ear to ear.
So he leans to kiss her cheek, taking the good mood while he can before heading to work and coming back home by 5. Only to find Billy’s Camaro in the driveway when he does come home.
Walking into the house, tense and tired from the day, to find Billy sitting on the couch as you work in the kitchen. You send him a quick look and Eddie follows, rushing into the kitchen with you.
“He invited himself for dinner.” You whisper.
“Why?”
“Because Motley told me I couldn’t come for Christmas morning.” Billy snaps from the doorway, leaning on it like he owned the place. “Which is really fucking weird considering that I’m her dad. I should be able to see her on Christmas. And I can only assume that you’re the one saying no Munson.”
“Hadn’t even known that we had that discussion but sure. I’ll take the hit.” Eddie smiles. “Cause you are 1000% banned from this house on Christmas Day.”
“You can’t separate me from my kids.” Billy snaps.
“We’re not. You can have dinner with us tonight, but you can’t be here tomorrow.” There were far too many people coming tomorrow that Eddie did not want having to deal with Billy, and he didn’t want your day being ruined by this asshat.
“I’d prefer the dinner to be a family occasion” Billy snipes. “And last I checked you weren’t.”
“Eddie is family.” You snipe back, backing up when Billy glared at you. “This is our home. His home. He stays.”
And before he knew it everyone was seated at the table, in the most uncomfortable dinner of his life. You were just pushing food around your plate, while Eddie was doing his best to stay cool.
“How are your grades Motley?” Billy asks, turning a heavy look to her.
“I’m one of the top in my class-“
“One of?” Billy interrupts.
“They have top three. They all tie in that spot so the kids don’t lose self esteem in the competition.” Eddie explains, tapping a ring on the table in annoyance.
“That’s bullshit. If her grades are the best then that needs to be said-“
“She’s doing fine. Her grades will help win a pizza party at the end of the year.” You snap, rubbing her cheek.
“I just want to make sure I’m not raising a retard that turns into a super senior.”
“What’s that mean?” Motley asks, wide eyed as Ziggy shoves some spaghetti in her mouth.
“Oh baby, it’s noth-“ you begin but Eddie cuts you off, looking her gently.
“It means I wasn’t good in school. I got held back from graduating for three years. That’s right. I was held back another year after you…. Well you know.”
“You got something to say to me, jackass?”
“Not really.” Eddie snipes, picking up his plate and heading to the kitchen before he loses his temper. Lucky him that Billy was set to follow.
“So this is where Motley gets all that attitude huh?! Some shit for brain pathetic piece of shit starts raising my daughter, showing her shit music and telling her the world is all rainbows and sunshine. Right?!”
“We’ll she’s 7. The world is supposed to be a little brighter-“ Eddie starts, watching as Billy grabs the front of his jacket and shoves him into the cabinets behind him.
“You think you’re something, huh?! Well you’re nothing more than a trailer trash piece of shit!” Billy yells in his face, and Eddie remains bland. Not letting any motion on his face as he shrugs.
Motley was going to hate him.
This would never work because your kids needed to come first, and Eddie knew that. He would always put them first. If he stayed with you Motley would soon begin to resent you.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“No. I don’t think I’m anything more than a piece of shit. I’m quite good in that life.” He shrugs. “And it’s not shit music that she was listening to, it was her choice of music. Music she liked, and if she likes it then it’s not shit.”
Billy laughs bitterly, then Eddie can do nothing but watch his hand pull back into a fist, getting him right in the face.
Pain shoots through his face as his head hits the cupboard behind him hearing the wood crack at the impact. Motley screams out loud “DADDY!” And Eddie assumes she’s screaming for Billy to stop.
He didn’t want to hit her dad in front of her, so he took it. Punch after punch from Billy before you jump on the man’s back, hitting him to get him off Eddie.
Billy pushes you off quickly, making you tumble to the floor as Motley runs for you before you try and ease her back. Eddie can’t feel his face but he knows it’s swollen and bloody, spitting out the taste of iron as he swipes a hand under his nose, pain shooting through him when he does so.
Motley is still screaming, over and over “DADDY DADDY!” And when Billy takes one aggressive step over to where she is in your arms Eddie finally loses it.
He shoves at Billy’s back, drawing his attention back and taking one quick swing across Billy’s cheek. One of his rings slices his cheek as Billy’s head whips to the side. But Eddie doesn’t stop, too built up on protective rage.
Ziggy is screaming in the background, Motley crying for her dad while you hold her back. Eddie takes a couple more hits, pushing Billy to the door so they wouldn’t have an audience. Only problem is the second Eddie pushes Billy out he finds a cop car already waiting, the cop hopping out and rushing to the scene.
-
Christmas morning was spent inside a jail cell with a broken nose, Eddie laying on one of the benches staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about how much his face hurt right now.
One of the neighbors had heard yelling and called the cops, who had taken 15 minutes to respond. And since Eddie didn’t start hitting back until the end he could only assume that meant he had taken nearly 15 minutes of that beating.
What a fucking coward.
He had hit Billy in front of Motley. Oh my god her entire Christmas would be ruined right now. He was an absolute piece of shit.
“Hey kid?” Someone calls, making Eddie try to open his unswollen eye and see. Hopper stood there in mundane clothes, sighing in disappointment. “Thought we agreed last time I arrested you that it would be the last time.”
“What can I say?” He croaks out, dropping his head again. “I’m trailer trash. Always have been and always will be.”
“Come on pity party.” Hopper sighs, unlocking the door. “You’ve been cleared. Witness statements.”
So they had questioned you. Fuck.
When he grabs his rings and jacket from the clerk he doesn’t bother putting them on, keeping everything in the bag including his chain and wallet. He puts the shoes on, groaning in pain when he bends over, before moving to see that Wayne had come to pick him up.
“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie grunts, not bothering to smile due to the cut on his lip and cheek.
Wayne doesn’t say anything, merely leads Eddie out, keeping a hand on his arm to help lead him to the car since he can only open one eye.
When they are both jn Wayne lights a cigarette, handing it to his nephew. “Have some before we get there. Relax you a bit.”
“Get where?”
“Your house? It’s Christmas? We agreed I’d bring gifts for the girls and get a nice meal?” Wayne asks.
“No. I’m not going there. Not like this and not after that.” Eddie snaps, tears falling from his eye as he thinks about it. That would just ruin Motleys Christmas even more. He couldn’t do that.
“I just wanna sleep.”
“Edward Wayne Munson.”
“Wayne John Munson.”
The sigh that falls from his uncles lips tells Eddie that he won.
-
(A POV from you? Gasp!)
After watching Eddie and Billy both get arrested you had to give a statement to the police, not like you could actually get a word out considering you were sobbing.
Eddie was bleeding profusely and could barely open his eye when they dragged him to the car, Motley sobbing at your hip as they did so. The officer talking to you tried to calm you down, rubbing your back in a soothing motion that didn’t work and only stressed you out more. You begged them to let Eddie go but the officer said it was protocol and that you should call in the morning to give your statement.
But you didn’t. You sat there with that cop until you calmed down and gave a proper statement, he said he would write a report and get it all sorted so you took Motley in. Getting both girls showered and ready for bed. After tucking them in, still crying, you found yourself moving to the kitchen to clean up the mess. Starting with the the broken glass that had fallen, then the dishes before you moved to scrub the floor, crying harder when you had to scrub Eddie’s blood.
At some point Motley came out, rushing into your arms to keep sobbing so you took her back to yours and Eddie’s room to try and get her to sleep there. You put her in one of Eddie’s sweatshirts before laying with her and trying to calm her down.
“He hurt daddy.” She sobs.
“Honey, Eddie was just trying to-“
“No. Billy hurt Daddy.” She explains. “It’s my fault. I told him he couldn’t come over on Christmas!”
There it was. You had wondered since Billy brought it up, you hadn’t said anything and Eddie hadn’t. So why had Motley?
“Why would you do that Motley? That was an adult decision that you should have let me tell him. I don’t want you getting in trouble because-“
“He’s mean to daddy, I didn’t want him bullying daddy! Okay?!” She cries, swiping her cheeks. “But now Daddy hates me! He hates me mama!”
“No. He doesn’t. He doesn’t hate you, okay?”
“He does!”
It took all but 30 minutes to lure Motley out of room after Eddie left for Wayne’s, promising her some chicken nuggets for dinner and that was it.
She ate silently with you before bath time, then when you sat with her on the couch before her bedtime while Ziggy slept in her crib, you noticed her watching the door every 2 minutes.
“What’s wrong?” You whisper, smoothing out her still damp hair.
“Is daddy Eddie coming back for bedtime?” She asks, scratching her arm. “He always lays with me.”
“He’s gonna be at Grandpa Wayne’s tonight. Helping him out with something. We will see him tomorrow, okay metalhead?”
“Okay.”
Only when you called the next morning there was no answer, Motley getting dressed beside you with a look of excitement on her face as it rang.
“Is he there? Ask him when he’ll be home!”
“He didn’t pick up ,baby, I’m sure they are busy. We will see him later okay? Maybe we can have dinner at the diner.”
And that’s what she talked about for the rest of the day, you tried asking about her time at Billy’s but she simply shut the conversation down. By the time dinner time came about she was upset that Eddie hadn’t come back so you offered to go to Grandpa Wayne’s and pick them up.
You had been there for about 5 minutes when the van pulled up and you could hear the gasps of excitement from Motley when Eddie hops out.
Inviting him to dinner, only for Eddie to be nervous and say no. He looked upset, and you were beginning to panic deep down.
Please don’t leave us. I love you. You wanted to say but you were pretty sure that would scare him off more.
Who wanted the mother of two with the racist abusive ex? Right?
When you drove off without him Motley was just as upset. “Why didn’t he come mama?”
“He had some more stuff to help with.” You answer, smiling at her through the mirror.
“Why didn’t he say hi?”
“He’s just not feeling good.” Lie lie lie.
The next day you were doing laundry while Motley was dashing around upstairs and Ziggy was waddling around you.
The sound of the phone ringing didn’t draw your attention since you were too busy trying to kick the washing machine into working. But when your daughter dashed down the stairs you looked at her.
“PHONE!”
“Who is it?” You ask, laughing at her excitement as you snatch Ziggy up and follow her up the stairs.
“Daddy Eddie. He just wants to talk to you though.” And you found yourself rushing to the phone, only when you got there it was just the dial tone.
“Is he coming home? Can I do his hair when he gets back?” She asks hopefully.
“Maybe later.”
By the time you realized he was back Motley was on her own bed and the shower to your shared bathroom was running so you laid on the bed waiting for him to come out.
When he did your heart beat out of your chest, nervous and in love.
He laid down, face in the pillow as you let him know Motley loved him.
All he could say was “I know” before falling asleep and you were heartbroken.
He’s gonna leave.
Two days before Christmas Eve when Motley is dropped off from Billys he doesn’t say a word, merely tosses her bag at you as he slams his car door and drives off.
Motley storms past you, pushing into the door as you carry Ziggy in, watching her in shock. “I HATE HIM AND I HATE YOU!”
Eddie, who had been waiting in the kitchen, sulks downstairs to give her space and you feel a twist in your gut. “That’s not fair to Eddie, Mot.”
“I’m not talking about Eddie. I’m talking about HIM!” She screams, stomping to her room and ripping the poster from her door.
“Hey!” You snap, following her and trying to get her to stop as she tears down the Elvis and Fleetwood Mac poster.
“I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM! It’s bullshit!” She screams, slamming the door. Only she slams it so hard it creaks open a little. Before you could make it worse the phone rings and you find yourself heading downstairs to tell Eddie about the call.
The excitement on his face breaks your heart as you realize he is so desperate to get away from you. Jesus you trapped him didn’t you?
By the time Motley comes out of her room she looks around for a minute, sitting at the table. “Where’s daddy?”
“Band practice.” You smile.
“When will he be back?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just eat.” You felt bad about the short answer. But you were upset about the way she was acting and you were upset that she said she hated you. Not to mention the way she ripped the posters and the way Eddie seemed to run from you.
You already dragged her away from Billy once, now she was going to lose another father because of your mess. You were a terrible mother.
She hates me , and so does Eddie.
“He will be here, okay? Daddy would never miss Christmas.” You smile, crying softly yourself. “Just wait and see. Daddy will be home.”
She calmed down a bit at your promise, laying beside you.
“I asked santa for dad back last year….” She mumbles. “And he gave me an even better one.”
“Yeah, he did.”
You don’t get a lick of sleep, waiting all night for the sound of the door to open. They had to have released Eddie, right?
You overthink it all as you sneak all the gifts out to the tree, ones that Eddie wrapped while you were sick and see all the dedication he put into them which just makes your heart melt more.
When the sun starts coming up you realize that maybe no officers were there to release him and they would in the morning during normal processing hours so you focus on starting the meal and getting the girls ready.
Motley refuses to go near her presents, choosing to wait for Eddie. You’re okay with it, letting Ziggy open a gift since you know it will take her forever.
You focus on cooking while Motley waits on the couch watching out the window.
But then people start showing up for the early dinner and you begin to let that panic sink in. Steve shows up, his two sons dashing for Motley as Nancy waddles in behind them. They thought three dishes that they add to the table. Steve asks about the broken cabinet but before you explain Lucas and Mike show up with their own dishes.
One after one they all show up and sook enough you break from the crowd to go in your room and call the station.
“I’m looking for Edward Munson? He should have been released by now but-“
“He was released two hours ago.” The kid on the phone sighs. “Anything else.”
You don’t respond, choosing to hang out and close your door so your guests don’t see you cry.
He wasn’t coming, you had messed everything up like usual. God you were pathetic.
Just as Billy would say, useless as hell.
Shuffling to the bathroom to try and catch your breath, turning on the water and sitting under it as you try to ease the panic attack.
The pink pregnancy test box stares back at you from the trash bin, the actual test on the counter where you had planned to surprise Eddie.
God I can’t do anything right.
Part lll HERE
(OHHHH I really hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Please please please no hate on it! If you want to see something specific such as a blurb or scene with Eddie and the girls feel free to request. -Ultralight)
Taglist::: (Let me know if you want removed)
@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel @mariamayhemrsmunson @venuslayla23-blog @cherrycolas-things @scout141 @thehuntresswolf @natie335 @alyisdead @animechick555 @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @mysticpeachobject @jackiosstuff @slytherinroyalty16
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i’m actually so obsessed with your bouncer!ellie.. we need a fic immediately 🤭 -🪐
taste of lust
SETTING : modern au
WC : 5011
WARNINGS : sexual harassment ( nothing graphic ) ( but reader is sort of implied to have trauma related to it , nothing stated explicitly tho ) , bouncer!ellie x bottlegirl!reader , idk shit about clubs so like some stuff might be insanely inaccurate but i did my best to research ( sorry in advance ) , dash of dealer!ellie bc who doesn’t love her , dom!ellie , sub!reader , teasing , overstimulation if u squint , ellie calls u pretty girl & princess , readers first time with a strap , ellie refers to her strap as her cock , i’m not fluent in english yet so there might be mistakes , not beta read
A / N : hello everyoneeee !!! i know this took FOREVER to finish and i’m so sorry about that .. i’ve been super super busy and this fic was so long omg T_T there was a point i started over completely bc i didn’t like the direction it was heading to .. this fanfic shit gets serious truly . in case u missed the warning there is sexual harassment in this fic and reader is implied to have trauma related to it . putting this here again to make sure u guys see it . anyway , i took so long to post this and so much stuff happened !! but alas , it is here , the bottlegirl!reader and bouncer!ellie fic !! this is my fav fic of mine so far so i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i liked writing it <3 ( and yes there will be a part two !! )
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
being a bottle girl wasn’t exactly the job of your dreams. having to deal with creepy rich men every friday and saturday night was definitely not something you enjoyed doing, but that was what paid the bills and allowed you to live a rather comfy lifestyle for a college student. the bad part no one tells you about going to a top college on a full-ride scholarship is that a lot of the students are rich kids who most definitely cheated their way through high school, who live in nice apartments paid for by their mommy and daddy, who use birkins and other designer brand bags as their school bags, who would never be caught dead eating at the cafeteria. of course, you felt out of place. you weren’t exactly poor, but your family definitely could never afford that kind of lifestyle.
you’re pretty. extremely pretty. and you knew you could use that to your advantage. so when you saw a new club in the city that was looking for bottle girls you immediately knew you had to apply. sure, you had to deal with a couple creepy customers every night and sometimes even had to remind them they’re not allowed to touch you, which was annoying. you also hated being seen as an object, and you knew that’s exactly how these men saw you, and what was even worse was those very unsettling “you remind me of my daughter” comments from older men since you were so young. but the money was the main thing you needed, and you were able to put up with all this because of the pay. although the salary itself is just enough to survive, most of your earnings were in tips, and you made good tips. with a little bit of flirting and pretending you were really into customers, you scored lots of tips in the hundreds and sometimes even thousands. that wasn’t really enough for you to be able to afford luxury items whenever you wanted, but you were able to treat yourself every once in a while and that was enough for you.
you and your coworker ellie are the only college students that worked at that club. she wasn’t a bottle girl, however, she was a bouncer. during busy nights the bouncers typically took turns being at the door, and the rest would be inside the club making sure everything was fine. she didn’t mind being inside, it meant she could steal glances at you. truth was, she was into you, and it was obvious. but you took it as her just wanting to get a reaction out of you. that’s what it seemed like. but you can’t lie, whenever she wasn’t looking, you’d stare back as discreetly as you could.
she was a little possessive over you, which you weren’t really aware of. whenever she saw you flirting with customers, she couldn’t deny she felt a little jealous. she of course knew you were just trying to get more tips. regardless, she still couldn’t stand seeing the way you twirled your hair, spoke in that sweet and flirty tone, and even sometimes gave them compliments, and the fact it wasn’t towards her. she wanted it to be her, and her only. she wanted you to be hers. but she never did anything aside from flirt with you a little every once in a while, because she was scared she’d make you uncomfortable.
ellie. where does one even begin to describe her? her strong arms, her short auburn hair she styled as a mullet or put in a half bun when she felt a little lazier, her mesmerizing green eyes. from the moment you laid eyes on her you found her extremely attractive, but you were too shy and didn’t know how to approach her. what’s funny is this is the total opposite of the character you put up for your customers, an extroverted, flirty girl. the thing with you is, you can flirt with people, but only when you’re not attracted to them. when you are, such as in cases like these, the main thing you do is avoid avoid avoid. you rarely had the opportunity to interact with each other, but when you did, you always felt she was trying to subtly flirt with you. it was the kind of flirting where it was hard to tell wether she was flirting with you or just being nice, so you simply took it as being nice because you didn’t think there was any possibility she could be into you. she was just out of your league. even if it was flirting, you didn’t know if she had any other intentions. so you decided to play it safe.
that night was different from the others. your boss informed you that there’d be a bachelor party tonight and surprise surprise, you’d be serving them. the thing about bachelor parties is they’re very demanding and their tips can vary a lot. and demanding in your vocabulary is basically a synonym for entitled. they’ll insist you sit down, have a drink with them, maybe even try to grope you or something. you were not happy about having to deal with them tonight, but your boss told you they were short-staffed tonight, so you’d simply have to suck it up.
the moment the group of about 15 men came in, ellie sensed something was wrong. she rejected about half of them at the entrance before being informed by her supervisor that it was a bachelor party. she didn’t really care. she knew they were up to no good.
“i really don’t think we should let ‘em in.” she crossed her arms.
“any good reason?” he asked, annoyed.
“something just feels.. off,” she whispered, “i dunno. feel like they’re up to no good.”
“i don’t pay you to do ‘vibe checks’ on people.”
“i still don’t think we should let ‘em in. feels like they have bad intentions. have you seen how they’ve been eyeing the rest of the female staff?”
“big deal, this is a night club,” he brushed her off. “that’s how men look at women in nightclubs, williams. suck it up.”
“that still doesn’t-“
“do you want to keep your job or not?” he snapped.
she sighed and rolled her eyes, defeated, and hesitantly let the group in. her eyes were glued on them until they sat down at a table, the feeling in her stomach worsening when she realized you’d be dealing with them. it was one thing for any of the other girls to have to deal with them, but for some reason, she found herself way more worried about you. you were newer to the job and a little younger than the other girls. she couldn’t bear the thought of someone possibly harming you, or taking advantage of you, or anything like that. she felt this strange desire to protect you, something she hadn’t really felt towards anyone before. she felt this way toward you, yet she barely knew anything about you.
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
tonight was going to be a long night. the moment those men sat down, you could immediately tell. you could tell by their piercing gazes, which you swore you could physically feel even though you weren’t looking at them, that you’d have to remind them several times they can look but not touch. you heard them whispering stuff to each other while looking at you and then laughing and hitting each other as if they were a group of teenagers. you took a deep breath, put on a smile, and finally went over to their table.
“hey boys,” you greeted with a flirty tone, “anything i can get you guys today?”
“yeah, a piece of that ass.” one of them said, while the rest laughed.
you faked a giggle, trying to do your best to handle this professionally, as you would with all the other annoying customers.
“anyway,” you continued, “do you guys have anything in mind? if not, you can take a look at the stuff we have over there at the bar.” you said, while pointing at the bar.
“we’ll need a moment, babygirl.” one of them replied, holding out his credit card.
you nodded, took the card, and quickly walked away. you absolutely hated that nickname. before you took this job, you didn’t really mind it. but when you started getting called it by basically every single customer you eventually grew to hate it. if you hadn’t been working, you at the very least would’ve given them a death stare or contemplated telling them off (even though you knew you’d never have the balls to do anything of the sort.)
after a couple of minutes, one of them whistled at you to get your attention. strike two. another thing you very much hated. now you were even being treated like an animal. who the hell do they think they are?
you walked over to them and plastered a fake smile on your face and asked if they were ready.
“we just wanted to know what you recommend. i’m sure you drink lots since, you know, you work here.”
some of them chuckled, and you didn’t really get what was funny. but you decided to not start anything and just answered the question.
“well, we have lots of options,” you responded, “we have many of the classics you can find anywhere else, and we also have some that are less common. we just got the louis xiii cognac which is very hard to find, so i’d recommend that one.”
“yeah? are you just saying that ‘cause it’s the most expensive?”
“if you want less pricey options, we have those too.” you replied, avoiding the question. of course you were suggesting it because it was the most expensive. that’s kinda your job. you’re supposed to make money.
“we can afford it.” one of them said.
“yeah, bring us that one.” another chimed in.
you smiled and nodded, walking away. gosh, you felt them draining any energy you had every second you spent near them. you carefully took the bottle and put it on your tray, and grabbed a few glasses and put them with the bottle. you made your way over to their table, placing their glasses in front of them one by one, and although you weren’t looking at any of them, you knew they all had their eyes glued on you. you tried your hardest to pour their drinks quickly enough so you could just get out of there, but not too quickly that they’ll notice. unfortunately for you, they caught onto what you were doing.
“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a hurry?”
tonight was going to be a long night.
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
ellie couldn’t wait for her turn at the door to be over. she made sure to peek inside every chance she had, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t eyeing you. she couldn’t help it. she couldn’t stop looking at how the black shorts and black baby tee you wore hugged your body and showed off your figure, and she had never been more grateful for the existence of the uniform. but above looking at you because of how attractive you were, she wanted to make sure you were safe. she had dealt with lots of men like them before, and she wouldn’t hesitate to kick them out if things escalated even the slightest bit.
after a while, her supervisor dismissed her and told her to stay inside to make sure nobody was causing any trouble. of course, she went over to the area you were, since there was no one watching over that area and because you were there.
“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a rush?” she overheard one of the men speaking to you, with a sort of entitled tone. if she hadn’t been paying attention before, she definitely was now. with the way they were acting, it seemed like they didn’t notice she was there. you were clearly uncomfortable, but tried to play it off, you didn’t want to cause trouble or provoke them. she watched closely as they kept offering you to sit down and drink with them, not listening to you no matter how many times you politely told them you’re not allowed. telling you to “just have one drink, it’s fine” and “no one will know” and they “won't tell your boss.” but your boss was not the only concern. the concern was you. you didn’t know these men, you didn’t know what they could do.
but suddenly, one of the guys sitting on the edge of the seat pulled you in by the hip and forcibly sat you down. in that moment, ellie immediately went over to the table and knew she had to step in.
“sir, you’re not allowed to put your hands on the employees. i’m gonna have to ask you and the rest of your party to step outside.” she said in a stern tone.
“she willingly sat down with us,” one of them lied, “she just wanted to have a drink. nothin’ wrong with tha-“
“i saw what happened. no point in lying. now please step outside before i have you forcibly removed from the premises.”
“yeah?” he stood up to face her. “you’re just a woman. what’re you gonna do? you can’t get all of us out of here.”
“sir, back down.” she warned.
“or what?”
she didn’t respond. instead, she punched him in the face, breaking his nose. a few of his friends stood up, but before they could do anything, some of the security had already gone over to the scene and stopped them, escorting them out as ellie went with you to the break room.
“you alright?” she asked, seeing how shaken up you were.
“i’m, uh, i’m fine. don’t worry.” you responded, sitting down on the couch, still uneasy from the experience. you hated people touching you without your consent, even something that was sort of minor like this. you were already uncomfortable, and this just made it even worse. you didn’t notice ellie had sat down next to you until she wrapped her arm around you and you melted in her embrace. you felt a little embarrassed at how comfortable you felt with a girl you’ve only had small talk with prior, but you were able to push that feeling away because in that moment, you didn’t care. the fact she hadn’t judged you and said “it’s part of the job” or something along those lines, let alone saying you were overreacting was enough to tell you that you could trust her.
“do you, uh, want me to drive you home?” she broke the silence.
“i can’t. i have to finish this shift.” you mumbled. “plus, my roommate has someone over tonight. i can’t go home right now.”
“then, if you want, we can go to my place,” she suggested, quickly adding on “but just so you don’t have to stay in this environment, i’m not trying to be creepy i promise,” because the last thing she wanted was for you to take it the wrong way and be uncomfortable.
“thanks, but, i still have to go back out there and finish my shift.”
she was a little sad. if it was up to her, she’d make you quit and happily support you. she made a lot of money for a college student, between working as a bouncer and dealing weed on the side. she had more than enough to support the both of you, but she’d never talk about anything of the sort out loud.
“i can speak to management for you,” she said, “i’m sure they’ll understand.”
you accepted hesitantly, the voice in the back of your mind telling you you’d just end up fired. but that didn’t matter to you in the moment. you had to get out of there. you couldn’t stand it anymore.
ellie guided you through the back door, making sure you wouldn’t have to face those men again, holding you by the wrist with just enough strength to make sure she wouldn’t let you go easily but not too hard so she wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. she opened her car door for you, waiting a couple seconds for you to get settled in in case you needed her help for whatever reason.
the car ride was short and silent. it wasn’t the awkward kind of silence, more so the kind of silence when there’s nothing to say. it was a comforting silence, a drastic contrast from the loud music in the club that had been blasting in your ears for the past 2 or so hours. you were looking out the window, watching the city lights and buildings as you passed them. ellie would be lying if she said she didn’t steal a few glances at you when you were looking away. she couldn’t help it, you were just so mesmerizingly beautiful she couldn’t help but look at you any chance she could.
when you finally arrived at her place, you were surprised to see she had a house and not an apartment. it wasn’t a big house, but it seemed like it could house about 3 people. you were about to ask about her roommates, but almost as if she read your mind, she said;
“sorry about the mess, i uh, i live alone, so. don’t usually have people over either.”
“it’s fine,” you shook your head, “i’m just grateful you let me come here.”
she noticed you sounded like you were in a better mood. “you feeling a little better now?”
you nodded. “yeah. i guess i just needed to get out of there.” you bit your lip in worry. “but now i don’t know what to do. i’m pretty sure i’ll end up getting fired after leaving like that.”
“after what happened to you? nah. it’s understandable,”
“are you sure? i-i mean, am i not supposed to let them know beforehand-“
“you’ll be fine, don’t worry.” she reassured you. “you’re sort of new, aren’t you?”
“not really. i’ve been working there for a couple months.”
“so you’re new. got it.”
you playfully rolled your eyes. “sure, let’s say that.”
she smiled. “anyway, you wanna do anything? or do you just wanna rest?”
“i guess we could watch a movie or something,” you suggested, “if you want, of course.” you were surprised at how bold you were. it wasn’t anything too bold, sure, but that’s only true for everyone else. for you, something like that, which others might think is minor, is sort of a big deal. not only were you at this girl’s house, but suggesting to watch a movie as well. you were a bit scared that might’ve been too much.
“yeah, sure,” she replied, “you into horror?”
“uhh.. not really..” you admitted.
“it’s fine, we can just watch something else.”
“no, no, it’s fine!” you insisted. it was, in fact, not fine. especially at this time, horror was not your thing. it wasn’t a huge fear of yours or anything, but you were a little embarrassed of the fact you still got scared while watching them, sometimes even got nightmares. but no way you’d admit that to her right there. you felt you were already being too much of a burden on her, so you’d just suck it up to not bother her any further.
a few moments later, you were both on her couch watching some random horror movie she had picked out. you didn’t even know what was going on in the plot, you were way too scared. you’d argue this was one of the scariest movies, scratch that, media in general you’ve ever seen. where did she even find this sort of stuff? ellie was full of surprises indeed.
you didn’t notice you had snuggled up to her, your head laying on her chest, from the fear. once you realized, your face turned red as you pulled away in embarrassment and mumbled some apologies as you moved away. to your surprise, she lightly tightened her grip of her arm she had wrapped around you (which you only now noticed as well), telling you with no need for words that it was fine, and you could stay that way. you didn’t really know how to react to that, but you stayed. something about her was so comforting. you barely knew her, yet you trusted her as if you’d known her all your life. it was a strange feeling. you’d been on multiple dates with the same person many times before yet you still felt more of a connection with your coworker who you had only spoken to a handful of times beforehand. you weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore. your mind was too busy paying attention to the thoughts racing in your head to process what was going on in the screen about a meter in front of you. you had lots of questions, and the more that popped up in your head, the more your heartbeat sped up.
ellie could feel something was wrong. she lightly lifted up your chin to make you face her, locking eyes with you. she asked if it was because of what happened earlier. you felt like you should look away, but you couldn’t. something about her was just so mesmerizing. you lightly nodded, not wanting to admit all the thoughts in your mind at that moment. you looked into each other's eyes for a couple seconds, before she planted a soft kiss on your lips. it was the type of kiss that happened almost as a reflex, the type that you have almost no control over. you could feel her try to pull away after realizing what she did, but before she fully pulled away you pressed your lips against hers, pulling her in this time in a deeper kiss.
before you knew it, you were straddling her lap as she placed kisses on your neck, occasionally sucking on it softly and leaving light purple marks on your skin. you hadn’t realized how much it was turning you on until you started lightly rocking your hips back and forth, desperate to get any sort of friction. ellie realized what you were doing, and placed her hands on your waist, almost guiding your movement, causing you to let out a few soft moans and whimpers.
“ellie..” you whined.
“i know, baby, i know.”
she carefully lifted you off her lap and laid you down on the couch, hovering over you. she tugged on the hem of your shorts.
“let’s get these off.” she said, as she undid the button and slipped them off you with ease, revealing your soaked cotton panties. “cute,” she thought to herself.
“i’ve barely touched you n’ you’re already so wet,” she teased, rubbing your clit through the thin cloth causing you to moan softly.
after a moment, you started to whine, tired of her teasing.
“desperate, huh?”
you broke eye contact as you looked away in embarrassment. in the back of your mind, you couldn’t believe everything that was going on. you found it a little embarassing, hooking up with a coworker you had barely spoken to prior. but as you had been doing the whole night, you tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the moment.
“don’t feel ashamed, pretty girl.” she said, noticing you felt a little off. something about her caring but almost demanding tone was turning you on even more.
she carefully pulled your panties to the side, sliding two fingers in, thrusting them at a slower but steady pace. this was better, but it still wasn’t enough. you bucked your hips ever so slightly, to tell her you wanted more.
“you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that, baby,” she said. she knew exactly what you meant, but she wanted to hear you say it. you whined in complaint, hoping she wouldn’t make you say it out loud.
“use your words, princess,” she smirked while locking eyes with you.
“please, ellie..” you begged.
“please what?”
“please, more..”
“good girl,” she said under her breath, speeding up her pace and thrusting her fingers inside you twice as fast as she was before, causing you to moan and whimper louder. soon you started feeling a knot forming in your stomach, making you attempt to grip the couch.
“ellie.. fuck..” you moaned.
“i know, pretty. but you don’t get to cum yet.” she smirked, suddenly pulling her fingers out.
you whined at her words and the sudden emptiness inside you, as ellie softly chuckled at your reaction. she found it so cute. she found pretty much everything about you to be cute.
she stood up, and went to grab something from her closet. it was a bright purple strap, and it was quite big. you weren’t sure it would even fit inside you. you watched as she effortlessly took off her pants and put the harness on, walking back to the couch and positioning herself, the tip right in front of your entrance.
“i want you to cum from my cock.”
she started sliding it along your slit, coating it in your slick, causing you to whine a little, before positioning it once again in front of your entrance and slowly sliding the tip inside you easily.
you were still a little scared since you had never done anything like this before. you’ve gotten fingered before, sure, but this was the first time someone used a strap on you. especially one this big.
“ellie..”
“hm?”
“i’ve never, uh,” you stuttered, “done something like this.”
“never gotten fucked with a strap before, huh?” she said, “i could tell. you seem kinda nervous. but relax, princess, i’ll take care of you.”
the nickname only turned you on more. you didn’t get why you loved it so much. it had never crossed your mind, yet you were now sure it was your favorite pet name ever.
with that, she started slowly sliding it in, looking at your facial expressions to make sure she wasn’t hurting you. surprisingly, you were able to take it all. she started thrusting it at a slow pace, gradually speeding up, but not quite fast yet. she definitely wanted to fuck you way harder and faster, but she wanted you to get used to the feeling first.
after a few thrusts you started to get used to the feeling, and it was amazing. she sped up her pace a little more, gripping your thighs, and this time she was able to locate your sweet spot, and boy was she about to abuse it. she hit it with every thrust, making you twitch and moan at every wave of pleasure.
“good fuckin’ girl,” she praised, “already taking my cock so well.”
“ellie.. please..” you begged, between moans, “faster..”
“yeah? you sure you can handle it, tough girl?”
you nodded, and she immediately sped up. she fucked you a little faster than you expected, and it was a little too much, but the overwhelming pleasure was, at the same time, addicting. the sounds of your moans and whimpers, her groans, and your wet cunt filled the room. soon, that familiar knot in your stomach started forming again, except this time it was much more intense, causing you to try and grip the couch once again. she realized what was going on, and started using her thumb to rub circles on your clit. you started tearing up from the overstimulation which was the littlest bit painful but also overwhelmingly pleasurable.
“i wanna hear you say my name, baby,” she demanded, “i know you’re close.”
and almost on cue, you came all over her cock as you moaned her name, just as she demanded, as she fucked you through your orgasm and finally pulling out with a slight pop.
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
it had been about an hour since you finished your.. activity. she insisted on getting a bath started for you, and now there you were on her bed, in one of her t-shirts that was a little big on you, freshly out of the bath. you texted your roommate before getting in the bath to tell her you wouldn’t be coming home tonight, and of course, she didn’t mind that at all.
not only were you on ellie’s bed, but you were cuddling her, trying to sleep. she told you you didn’t have to, and that she just enjoys sleeping with body warmth, but you knew better. maybe it was true, but it sure as hell was not the only reason. but you didn’t mind. you acted stupid and like you bought her story, because truth is, you really wanted to cuddle with her, and you were even thinking of similar excuses if she hadn’t brought it up first.
“you awake?” ellie whispered.
“mhm, sort of.” you replied, in a sleepy voice.
“i just, uh,” she paused for a moment, “i just wanted to know. when will i see you again?”
“on our next shift together.” you joked.
“no, dummy, i mean like this.”
you thought about it for a moment.
“i guess we’ll see,” you responded softly, “i’m pretty sleepy. i think we should talk about this later.”
she seemed satisfied with your response, but she still had the fear you were only saying that to be polite, and you didn’t want anything more or didn’t want this to repeat. of course, she’d respect you if that was the case, although she’d be a little disappointed. but she felt there was something more there, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. you weren’t like any of the other girls she’s hooked up with before. she wasn’t exactly sure what set you apart from them, but she knew there had to be something.
maybe it was just feelings.
but even if it didn’t seem like that was the case because of your shy personality, you wanted something more. just like her.
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Rigor Mortis (part 3)
College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,
Part 2, Part 4
summary: A bad day turns even worse. Miguel surprises you.
warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of grief, very vague mention of domestic violence and abuse.
recommended reading: the painting Ophelia by John Everett Millais, and the song Ophelia by the lumineers.
a/n: i lowkey suck at communicating my "big" ideas so i really really hope this makes sense!
Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3
Join my taglists here
wc: 3.8k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
they were here, she says,
You’ve had your share of bad days.
Oh God , enough to fill an A4 binder with. For example, knocking out that tooth when you were twelve. A butterfly effect of fuck ups that led to a scuffle at school: blood in your mouth, a tooth on the ground, and a looong suspension. You received quite the earful at home, that day.
And then there was telling your parents you had dropped out of college. Telling them you were moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend. Breaking up with said boyfriend in your favourite diner; thus sullying Pam’s waffles and pancakes with the bitter taste of… oh-fuck-I-don’t-know-how-I’ll-afford-an-apartment-now. Oh, and heartbreak – although that wasn’t as immediate.
Scratch that, the day of the breakup had been fairly mundane. Pleasant, even. Jamie had an off day, and you only had a few lectures. He didn’t tell you, of course, so meeting him in the apartment was a surprise. You’re home earlier than usual, and you can’t quite bear to wake him up; slumped on the sofa like an old cat. He’s tired, lectures and clerkships running him ragged for the past few years. Only a year out until residency, with bags under his eyes as proof, and you see him less and less. All things considered, you’re glad to spend the rest of the day with him.
You’d spent too long after the break up analysing the days leading up to it: for a sign, something in his behaviour that would’ve warned you. And so, you remember it quite vividly: kicking your shoes off, putting your bag down, and sinking into the sofa next to him. You curl into him, looking up at his face: steady, tempered breathing. Something at your chest, solid and heavy. He looks peaceful, happy; and you haven't seen that side of him in quite a while.
When you shift against him, you knock against his shoulder. Jamie stirs, groggy, and eyes adjusting to the light. The first thing he sees as he wakes is you; romantic, in theory. His expression is etched into your subconscious; stark and stiff like a marble statue, or a tombstone. A flash of disappointment, lip drawn in what seemed like disgust – but only for a moment.
" Morning , baby." You squeeze his side, and take his hand into yours. That look ; it's gone almost as quickly as it came.
"Thought…" He frowns, fighting dregs of sleep. "I thought you would be back later."
"Nope." You give him a smile and he returns with one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He puts a hand on your cheek.
"Morning," Probably tired, he sighs deeply. You move on with the day. And he breaks up with you, not even 6 hours later.
You had had 4 years of that: good days, bad days, but most of them had been… mundane. Boring. Not quite the heat and intensity of true love, as the movies had gaslighted you into believing in.
You like the old black and white ones the best. Old fashioned, old-timey folk; declarations of love in tinny transatlantic accents. Suddenly, you’re on the floor of your childhood bedroom; eyes wide at the Sound of Music. Maria and Von Trapp hand in hand: her dress billowing, the flash of white glove on the small of her back. Love, love, love; and your lack of it.
You feel its loss all the same.
Despite all your efforts – including a dash to the station that could rival an Olympic sprinter – you were late to your first lecture. Sweaty, out of breath, and ambushed with a pen and paper; thrust into your hands on arrival. You look around to see dozens of heads down, scribbling furiously. A surprise test – and you’re late.
Hand aching, you barely finish within the two hours, after bullshitting your way through at least half of the questions. By the looks of the people streaming out of the hall; faces rumpled and grimacing; you’re not the only one. However, it does little to comfort you. You’re sure you're the only one failing so spectacularly, with the semester already half over.
You'd smacked your leg on the coffee table on the way out and a book had slammed to the floor. An art book, the kind in a model home - and you know damn well Miguel's not an enthusiast. The image sticks for some reason, leg aching as you trudge to your next class. When he gives you that blank look; the memory of men gone past is haunting – dead-eyed, and blank, like eyes cut out of a painting. You wonder if a Van Gogh would feel the same with the brilliant blue of eyes slashed out.
Nevertheless, you feel like lead. Off
to your next class, and it's going over material passed out the day before; which you didn’t have the time to look over. The professor drones on; voice monotonous and gravelly. Struggling to keep up, you sink into your seat – tapping away at your laptop, whatever you can get down. You pick at your lip, unravelling; unfurling like the tip of a slashed rope.
That's what you’re waiting for, you think: sandbags clattering down from stage left, to bring the rest of this whole farce down.
A sinking feeling, that starts at your chest and makes its way to the tops of your fingers and toes, leaves you numb for the rest of the day. Dread, like a shadow, at your heels in the corridors, across the courtyard, all around campus. Another lecture, and you make it in time for labs, barely, but there’s no time to go over notes; what you managed to scrape together in preparation. And of course , your lab partner’s sick, because that’s just the kind of day you’re having. It’s hectic, doing the work of two people with only the scraps you’ve cobbled together.
The pressure mounts. Like liquid in that flask you weren’t meant to stopper; and you just might end up like its remnants on the counter. Glass everywhere but where it should be. For a good grade, it helps to be organised: everything in its place, always. Except it isn’t, and you’ve fucked it up, again . It means the results don’t match up in your lab book, and another hour staring at liquid decanting, monitoring temperatures. Staring at stark white walls, with achy legs.
You step out whilst machines run in your stead, and shed your lab coat. It’s hot and stuffy in there but out in the corridor, you can finally breathe. Forehead on the cool wall, it all stops for a moment. The persistent buzz of your phone, sat in the pocket of your trousers, creeps into the quiet.
Absent-mindedly, you turn it on with a click. The buzzing stops. You’ve just missed a call from Miguel. It’s odd, he doesn’t usually call, but it’s the little box underneath the notification that makes you pause. A message, from a number you thought you’d blocked – that you should’ve blocked.
From:Jamie <3
Hey
From:Jamie <3
We should meet. I’ve still got some of your things in the apartment.
Your blood runs cold. Dread, like a shadow; its hand wrapped your neck. You can’t breathe, stuck under the weight of something at your chest. You can’t breathe, the walls close in. We should meet , he says. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world; just friends catching up over a coffee. Like you didn’t watch him carve out a chunk of your heart with a rusty spoon.
A panic attack, and you’re awkwardly hunched over by the wall, phone in hand. Someone will find you here, lying on the vinyl floor in Block B, spread eagle between lab 6 and 7. Dramatic timing, but if it kills you; you’ll find a way to haunt your ex's ass for the foreseeable future. And Miguel’s too, because if you’re having a bad day; then somewhere out there, he’s having a good one.
~~~
The apartment is still when Miguel gets back – unusually so. You’re not on the sofa, watching a mindless soap opera, or howling some song in the shower. And he’s had to deal with that most days for the past few weeks, a break in the peace and quiet he’s so carefully cultivated. Rigorous routine, they keep him together. He needed it; the way myth needs a martyr, the way flowers on a small grave needs a body. A tick-tick-tick in his head, that drives him a little less crazy after a morning run, or a good meal when he comes home. A countdown, he thinks, a mechanical clock whirring and puttering with a shake of its gears. He feels them stutter and start, slowing down, but not quite stopping. An ache so deep, he feels its creak with every step.
Absent-mindedly, he looks around the empty apartment, pulling at his ears.
When he was younger, Gabi would pull at his ears, to get him out of a book. Reading, always reading, whenever he could. At the dinner table, when his mamá would rap his knuckles with a wooden spoon and chuckle lightly at his little grimace. No en la mesa, Miguelito. Not at the table, Miggy. Léeme más tarde – read it to me later.
It was when he got his braces, and picked up a slight lisp. He stopped talking for a while, not completely; but a lot less, not as interactive in lessons. And it was always little Miguel, at the front of the class with his hand up to answer. It didn’t help that Gabi poked fun at him, often sneaking up to him to hiss in his ear: palms pressed together with a slithering motion, and then a strike to his ribs like una víbora - a viper , struggling to say his S’s. They’d fight because of it after, tousling on the floor of their bedroom in a mass of limbs, like pythons squeezing prey. Or at least, until their mamá rushed to separate them.
She didn’t like it when her boys fought; so they’d been forced to make up every time. He still has the scars to prove it.
Car magazines at first, and then the newspaper, whatever book he had picked up at the library that week. Even with his lisp, his mother made sure he read to her, and sometimes to Gabi as well, at least once a week. Looking back, she was never perfect; the things he knows now about his dear mamá, and her visage tumbles like Ozymandias in the sand. Her mother, married to a piece-of-shit mechanic; and his mother, elbow deep in the oil spill. That’s the funny thing about love, he thinks. Love, and the lack of it; dripping through the cracks, passed on through generations. Maybe mamá felt the gears shuddering in her chest. He hopes Gabi was saved from that burden.
A small voice at the back of his mind tells him: it’s not enough. Doesn’t explain the little boy pulling at his ears, in Miguel’s jacket and dress shoes.
A glimpse in the reflection of a shiny pan on the side table, and he looks like shit. Eyebags, a permanent scowl, shadowy lines that prick at the corners of his eyes. It’s ironic, crows feet without the penchant for laughing. He thinks you’d find it funny. The pink and purple of a setting sun spills in through windows and makes him sigh. It’s late, and you’re still not home.
God, you're strange; sticking your nose where you shouldn't. Disrupting the calm of his apartment. A sanctuary, and you've got your grubby paws all over it. Your shit is all over the place; pun-based mugs in the cabinet, chewed pen lids with no pens in sight, a blanket on the couch. The same blanket, a ratty old thing, that he usually meets you wrapped in when he gets back. A creature of habit, he folds it up; trying to ignore the whispers of your perfume, sweet and heady on the fabric.
He gets dressed, starting with dinner; knife on a chopping board cutting onions and peppers into cubes. It's therapeutic, the steady thud ringing out into the kitchen. Quiet, for a fleeting moment. But the worry, it sticks ; despite his better judgement. Before he changes his mind, he clicks open his phone to call you. It rings out – you don’t pick up.
The urge to call again is surprisingly troublesome, so he shoves it down with a piece of tortilla. It sits in his chest, regardless.
~~~
You trudge into the apartment. Squelch seems more accurate, sopping wet as you step out of waterlogged trainers. It was an inopportune time to wear jeans and forget a jacket – and you fight the urge to wring out onto the wooden planks. Miguel would kill you; the place was already falling apart, and water-warped floorboards might just be the last straw.
It’s thundering outside; a torrential downpour you’d just been dragged through. Dragged, half-running through streets-turned-streams, with nothing but a tank top and hoodie on your back. And you must look a sight , eyes bleary and slick with rainwater. The bag heavy on your back goes first, slipped off your shoulder and on the floor next to the coffee table with a thunk . You’re unzipping the flimsy canvas, inspecting its contents. A soaked through textbook, clumps of loose paper. You’re ready to cry when you see what's happened to the pages of your lab book; bleeding ink that’s only half-legible. But it’s the state of your laptop that makes your chest really heave and knees weak.
It’s slick with rainwater, and the sandwich you’d forgotten to eat, smeared across its fans. Caked on, more accurately; an odd sludge that you try your best to wipe away. You put it on the coffee table and your hand shakes as you press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead.
You sink onto the floor, head in your hands between the coffee table and the couch. Everything was on there: photos from senior prom, end of semester projects – your whole life. You have to dig your teeth into your bottom lip to bite back a scream.
Miguel peers from the kitchen, watching your silent breakdown. Quiet, and so still, with only the slight shake of shoulders to tell him that something is wrong. He glances at your half-opened laptop. He’d eaten already, clearing up what remains of his dinner and this is the sight he’s greeted with: the lady of the lake, lain between the reeds.
He shakes the image out of his head, and walks over. You feel a tentative prod, and look up.
“...I called you,” He says lightly, scratching at his neck.
You blink up at him. He thinks you look like a painting, watery and forlorn, framed in the yellow light of the soft bulbs.
“I was busy,” It’s not said with malice, nor as lilting as your usual sarcasm. Plain, simple. Busy. Your head slumps back into the little hollow you’ve made with your arms.
And so he sits, shoulders brushing against yours. He’s frustratingly patient, presence warm and comfortable despite… well, despite everything.
You can’t help it. Popping back up, you state, “You never call, though.”
“You’re never this late home.” Home. The word is heavy, knocks you onto your heels.
“So?” You shrug. “Could’ve been out with friends, or at a club–”
Laughter slips out like apples loose in a bag, spills onto the floor. Crisp, sweet; but you glare at him all the same.
“You don’t have friends.” He says it with the remnants of a smile, teasing. A challenge, and you’re more than happy to accept.
“ Not true , fuckface.” It is. You'd lost track of most of your friends after moving – and all the ones you made here? Your friends were Jamie's friends, and they chose him in the divorce. " You don't have any friends."
"I do ."
"You don't." It's your turn to scoff. "It's a Friday night and you're in here, washing up and planning to go to bed at a reasonable time."
"I'm an adult, doesn't mean I don't have–"
"The ones you fuck don't count." And then you pinch the bridge of your nose. "God forbid, if that's how you treat your friends…"
He laughs, properly, and you feel it in your chest too: the kind of laughter that bubbles like little breaths rising to the top of a lake.
“M’serious.” He says it in between gasping breaths and you try to steady your own giggles. "And, I have a friend who could take a look at your laptop, if you wanted."
His eyes flick over to the crime scene besides you. It's sweet, but.. "It's gone, Miguel, I know. You don't need to… try and make me feel better."
" Chula ," He flicks the deep lines forming at your brow. You look up and he says, softly, "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to get you off of the floor so I can mop up that puddle."
With the way he says it, with that little smile, you don't believe him.
Now he's got your attention, he says, "You could've skipped that 9:00am. Or just been late. Don't think it would've mattered."
"Maybe." You shake your head. "M'not the best student. I'm blindingly… average. Just wanted it to be different, this year."
Your voice crackles, leaves something in the air he can't quite name. Quiet, again, except this time it's thicker. Smoke, ash, rolling clouds of melancholy in the little front room. For once, he doesn't know what to say.
You've got your head back on the sofa now, with a deep sigh. You look at the ceiling, and he's looking at you. It's the first time he's able to really study your features, trace the outline of your lips and sloping cheekbone. Your lashes, damp with little droplets of water, look crystalline in the light. Sparkling. Like the paintings depicted in the hefty book sat on his coffee table. He's read that one, twice , cover-to-cover in a fit of… insanity, maybe. He's not a man of frills and fancy, didn't really get it; nor why Gabi had given him the book in the first place. It felt like a filler piece, something to put on the little table and forget about, or to prop up a wooden leg. But that's not how his brother works, frustratingly convoluted. It's stupid, Miguel thought. Everything had to mean something , or what was it good for?
But looking at you, here, like this ; it clicks. Reaching over for the book, he leans it against the flat of his thigh. And you see it in the corner of your eye, watching as he flicks through the pages. Filled with art, it's the kind of thing on a table in a model apartment: a space-filler in a false home. When you first came here, the starkness and severity of the space had stuck. To you, the book had only reinforced it. Who was Miguel? A serial killer for all you know, stocking fluff pieces and coffee table books; only pretending to be human.
Finally, he stops, finger over a specific place. A double page spread, of surprisingly good quality.
He clicks his tongue. " This one. "
You follow his finger. A woman in a lake doesn't do it justice. It's beautiful, but it doesn't mean anything to you.
" Ophelia, John Everett Mills, 1852 ." He reads out the little label at the bottom of the image. "Like from Hamlet."
You shrug. "I don't…?"
"Well, she's in love with Hamlet, and then her father's murdered, Hamlet fucks off; and she's left heartbroken, goes mad because of it , arguably–"
"I've taken tenth grade English, Miguel. I don't get what that has to do with anything."
"She drowns herself. Also arguably, to be fair," He chews his lip, thinking. "Slipped off the bark of a willow tree, into a brook. Incapable of her own distress, or something. Drowns. Do you know how horrible drowning feels? How violent? And yet–"
He taps the page, and you come a little closer. Beautiful. She's beautiful.
"I'll admit it, I'm not a big fan of Shakespeare. Gabi – my brother – is way better at this stuff than me. Drama and intrigue and–" He gestures vaguely. "– love . That's why he likes it, apparently. And I… I know someone who really liked this page; I think it was the colours, or the flowers…? She said it looked like a photo, and that the woman looked so pretty in the water."
He pauses, dead-eyed. He's rambling, only taking a breath to compose himself." I… didn't have the heart to tell her that Ophelia, in this painting, is dead. Dead as a fucking doornail. Dragged through still water, sentenced to death by her passivity and grief – but you wouldn't know it."
Unconsciously, you trace the outline of her hair with your finger; swirling locs that blend into muddy reflections. She's on her back and fully dressed; a beaded skirt billowing out into the water. On her back and looking up, like you were on the sofa just a moment ago. Oh. Oh . You blink at the image. Flowers, peppered around to frame Ophelia in her watery grave. It doesn't look like a grave from where you're sitting, but there's a body in the water all the same.
There's a lump in your throat. Grief; the loss of 4 years of your life in a middling relationship, the aftermath of dead eyes and brilliant blue slashed from a canvas frame. Grief, rising to the surface like a bloated carcass. You thought you'd bound its ankles to cinder blocks and tossed it in a river long ago.
"I'm probably overstepping. For that, I'm sorry, and I mean it. But I think there's something else. I..I hear you rattling around at night; and sometimes, when I look at you..."
Your eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill over. You’re hearing him but you don’t quite understand. Does he know? God, does he know?
"...it reminds me of this painting. You remind me of Ophelia .”
He sighs, turning to you.
“I know how it feels. And I think this shit is going to kill you, if you're not careful."
~~~
He doesn't talk about it. He runs off to start the shower, bundles you into towels and leaves you reeling. God, it's like you've been shot – barely a 10 minute conversation and he's cracked open your ribs to root around in what's left of you. He sees you; wades through the undergrowth and cuts through the bulllshit - he sees you.
You couldn't even answer. That's what stings the most.
You’ve settled on the sofa, cross-legged and still fresh from the shower. There’s a documentary on the TV; mindless background to Miguel clattering in the kitchen. He’s putting together some leftovers, even though you insisted that you weren’t hungry, that you’ve already eaten. Well , he had pointed to the gunk caked onto your laptop, wasn’t that the problem in the first place?
He’s good at it; wraps you up in the blanket you always keep draped on the cushions, and hands you a full plate. Wordlessly, because you suppose he’s said everything he needed to. Dutifully, he takes care of you, without a word; the strain of cutting you open on the coffee table clearly too much to bear.
You thank him, and he settles on the armchair opposite, mug of coffee in hand. The gloom of the TV bathes him in light, cuts his cheekbones and jaw just so. One of your mugs in his lap, and he's in a thick knitted sweater. His hair kisses the tops of his lashes, but he brushes it away. You swallow thickly, and when he turns, you look away.
“...You okay?” He asks, confused.
You nod, unable to speak. He gives you a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled up like crepe paper. You return it with one of your own.
He sees you. Finally, you see him too.
_
_
_
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No Alarms and No Surprises, Please
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
I had this idea and decided to write it "real quick" (it took like two hours). I meant to do just like a really short thing so I could eat lunch and then get back to work, but then my brain was like no we gotta set up context
Titled after the song "No Surprises" by Radiohead. It doesn't exactly fit, but it felt right in my mind
Warnings: mentions of murder, tense moments, injury, burning flesh, bruises, bones breaking, blood mention, nausea mention, angst, literal hurt/comfort, soft Astarion moments
Word Count: 1,863
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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You peeked slowly around the corner, holding your breath. Astarion hovered just behind you, almost touching you as you both surveyed your surroundings.
It was a palace, that much you knew. You also knew the guards were exceptionally strong. You already wasted enough healing spells and potions on the two guarding the door - you were just lucky they didn’t call for reinforcements. You also knew there was an artifact deep within the heart of this place that could provide some insight into removing the tadpoles.
“We’ll have to go around,” you breathe out slowly to the spawn. He gives a slight nod. As much as he loved bloodshed, sneak-killing all of them would be too high a risk. You almost came face to face with him when you look over your shoulder. He gives you a knowing smirk as he backs off. You nod down a side-hall. “That way.”
You gesture to Gale and Shadowheart, making sure they knew the plan. They nodded, waiting. You turn back to the patrolling sentinels. Their movements are constant and predictable, each pace following the same amount of steps. They sync, facing away from your destination, and you wave a hand for a companion to go.
Gale, ever the gentleman, lets Shadowheart go first. She hides behind the wall, out of sight. You wait again and gesture for Gale to go. He bites back complaints about his knees that creak under the duress of sneaking. He arrives just as a guard turns. Astarion could hear your heart thumping wildly in your chest; it pounds so loud in your ears you can’t even hear the guards’ footsteps anymore.
He wraps a hand around your waist, carefully pulling you away from the corner. You stare at him, worried he’s noticed something wrong. He nods toward the hall where your companions wait. “You first,” he whispers.
You want to argue - he can see the wheels turning in your head as you frown at him. As the de facto leader, you always worked to ensure everyone else was safe before you. You rested a little easier knowing you’d be the one in harm's way should something go wrong. But Astarion was a rogue, and used to sneaking around to boot. He would be much better at timing his dash to the hall than you could.
After a moment, you nodded. He pushed you back to his prior spot as he takes your place, poking an eye around the corner and studying them. He thought you’d die of a heart attack if this went on any longer. When the guards turn, he taps your waist. You crouch as quickly as you can to Gale and Shadowheart. They greet you with a tense nod.
You wait in silence for Astarion.
He almost spooks you when he comes silently around the corner. But now, further from the immediate threat, you have a chance to breathe.
The hallway stretches on for what seems like forever. Closed doors and open arch-ways line each side, perfectly mirrored. At the end, there’s a very small statue - but you’re sure it’s life size up close. The prospect of a maze with the ever-looming fear of getting caught doesn’t exactly thrill you, nor any of your companions, but nothing can be done for it.
You sigh and lead them onward.
It’s too risky to peek inside the rooms - if there were patrols inside you’d all be jumped and killed within minutes. At each arch, you glance around the corner, down the other equally as endless corridors. It’s oddly quiet. Not a guard in sight, even on grander doors that seem like they should be protected. It leaves you on edge. Waiting for the boot to drop and leave you in mortal peril. At the very least, you feel safe enough to stand up. It saves you from Gale’s grumbling.
You peer around another corridor and try to imagine the layout of the palace. You’d found a map once, but it was too tattered to make anything useful out. The most information you gleaned from it was where the staircases were. If you could find your way to one of those, you’d be able to go down, deeper into the belly of the beast. You believe, if your slipping memory of the map was correct, you could turn down this way and go all the way to the end, and there would be stairwells on either side of the very-tiny-life-sized-statue.
Resolved to your plan, you step through the ornate marble arch. You feel the pain before you register where it’s coming from. You collapse to the floor, cushioned only by a strong arm and solid body. A hand clamps over your mouth, pressing down tight to keep any sound from slipping through.
Oh. That breathless tightness in your chest is not from the pain. It’s you screaming. Trying to, at least. Your eyes dart frantically around as your body writhes against the person holding you. Gale and Shadowheart appear in front of you, kneeling down and working as fast as they can to help.
One of your legs feels weighed down. You stare at the chunk of metal for too long before it finally registers the trap clamping down on your leg. It looks and acts like a bear trap, but it’s been improved to burn red-hot when activated.
Fear grips you like a vice. You become conscious of the fact the teeth of the trap are almost meeting. It’s bitten through your bone. Or nearly through, anyway. You didn’t process it, too busy being victimized by the sadistic mechanics of the device, but Astarion, Shadowheart and Gale all felt nauseous as the crack continues to echo in their mind.
“Shh,” comes a whisper by your ear. You whimper and gasp and struggle, but the arm around your waist only re-wraps around you to pin your arms down. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
Astarion looks away from your injury, peering down the halls. The sound of the bone snapping was loud enough to attract attention, he just didn’t know how much, or when they’d be coming. Not to mention where they’d come from. For all he knew, their luck had run out, and any second a swarm of golden-armored bastards would be charging down the hall they were in.
“We need to get out of the open,” he hissed to the cleric and wizard.
Gale cast an ice spell, focusing all his energy in freezing the hinge of the device. If he could get it cold enough, it would become brittle, and they could dismantle it and pull it from your leg like cracking open an oyster. Shadowheart focused on healing the burns being inflicted to your skin as they were happening. It smelled uncomfortably like meat roast. Your blood vessels were cauterized. Astarion could hardly take solace in the fact when the usually-delicious scent of your ichor was replaced with the smell of cooking flesh.
“We can’t move them yet,” Shadowheart whispered, barely biting back her panic. She couldn’t keep healing you forever.
Gale grunted, brow furrowing further as he willed the ice to freeze faster, freeze colder around the metal.
Astarion felt useless, watching and unable to help. Holding you while you thrashed in agony was all he could do. He hoped to the gods he wouldn’t reveal a bruise over your mouth when this was finished. “I’m here,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. It was all he could think to do. “You need to keep still, love. It’ll be over soon.”
The words didn’t reach. You knew he was speaking when his breath fanned over your ear, but the speech-centers of your brain were thoroughly turned off. As were any of the logic-centers. Anything that could have told you they were helping, to calm down and stop moving, was replaced instead with klaxons and sirens urging you to struggle and fight back against the pain.
Footsteps. Loud and clanging. Getting closer. Astarion cursed. “We have to hide,” he hissed again, panicked.
There was no time to argue. They all seemed to have the same idea as Astarion pushed himself across the floor with his legs, pulling you with him. Shadowheart and Gale stopped casting in favor of moving your legs, as carefully as they could possibly manage. Hot tears slipped over Astarion’s hand as you thrashed violently with the motion. But now, at least, you were tucked into a corner. Hidden behind a pillar that framed the arch of the hallway. Everyone held their breaths. You didn’t catch the memo, but the spell-casters held your legs down so you wouldn’t make as much noise.
The clanging of armor rose in volume until the echoes through the corridors nearly deafened everyone. You momentarily stopped fighting. Though, Astarion couldn’t tell if it was because the sound had reached past your pain, or if your body was giving out under the duress.
The steps - 3 guards, if Astarion had to guess by ear - slowed from a run to pacing the juncture of the halls. They circled around, stopping occasionally. One set of steps stopped mere feet away. If Astarion leaned forward slightly, he could make out the point of a nose. Shadowheart and Gale slowly pressed themselves back into the shadow of the pillar.
Something touching his hand startled him. He had to fight not to physically jump and draw attention. A hand, your hand, rested weakly over his. He let go of your arm and turned his hand to hold yours. He could feel you whimper in his hold, the shake of your breaths as they hit hot against his hand. You were scared. He was, too.
He squeezed your hand and looked back at the pillar. The steps hadn’t moved. The sentry was still there.
Seconds ticked away at a snail’s pace. They all worried for a moment the guards had chosen to stay there and patrol the intersection. Then the sentinel stepped back from the arch. More footsteps followed. A pause. He could only imagine they were silently saying they did not find anything. And then the cacophony of armor drowned out any last doubt as they retreated back down the hall.
They all let out sighs of relief, even Astarion who had no need for air. He turned his focus back down to you. Your eyes were shut, your breaths were evened out. You’d fallen unconscious. It was a small mercy.
“Hurry up so we can get the Hells out of here,” he huffed. Shadowheart and Gale nodded, equally as eager to get back to safety, and returned to work.
Astarion slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Light bruises where his fingertips had been began rising through the surface of your skin. He sighed, upset at the pain he caused even through necessity, and brushed a tender kiss over the darkest of the bunch. He was too overwhelmed with relief to care if the others saw him. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered again, even though they did not reach you. He was reassuring himself more than anything. It would have been pathetic, if he could think about anything other than your wellbeing. “I’m here, darling.”
---
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What kind of lovers do you attract/ are attracting?
How to choose a pile?
Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.
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Pile 1
Your energy has this amazing superpower to heal, like a magic balm for broken hearts. It's no wonder people are drawn to you like bees to honey. You're like a walking oasis of comfort for those who've had their share of love's bumps and bruises. Those you attract are the creative types, the ones who think outside the box and color outside the lines. You've got this magnetic pull for guitar-strumming, canvas-painting, poem-writing folks. You know, those artsy souls who've often danced with heartache. It's like your aura says, "Hey, bring on the creatives!" Your magnetism doesn't stop at artists. Nope, it goes all the way to the bank, you attract some deep-pocketed darlings. Money? Not an issue for them, they've got it going on. And oh boy, strength? Both mental and physical? It's like you've got this fiery aura that's a total strength magnet. And hold onto your hats because popularity is part of your package deal. You snag the ones who are well-liked, the ones everyone wants to hang around. It's like you've got this neon "cool people only" sign that shines super bright. The people you draw in might be total opposites of you. I know, wild, right? But hey, life's all about surprises.
Pile 2
So, this is my personal pile of hopeless romantics. Get ready, because the lovers you're pulling in? They're just like you. You're like a magnet for those total dreamers, the ones who see love as this magical, larger-than-life adventure. You know those who could fall in love with the idea of falling in love. Yep, that's who's knocking on your heart's door. You're also attracting a bunch of daydreamers , those people who view love through these super rosy glasses. It's like they're lost in this fairytale, and they're looking for their partner to be the co-star in their romantic movie of life. And guess what? Your energy is like a beacon for the brainiacs too. You're snagging those who are smart, logical, and always ready with a dose of sensible advice. They're a blend of both worlds. It's like they've got this epic tug-of-war between their dreamy side and their practical side, and you're right in the middle of that sweet balance. They might not be super experienced in the love department. It's like they're all about that puppy love, that innocent and genuine kind of affection. So, whether you're nodding your head like, "Yeah, that's me," or you're like, "Wait, what?" this is your magnetic vibe.
Pile 3
You've got this power to pull in super dedicated lovers. They're the ones who are all about their hustle, totally work-oriented, and maybe even more focused on their projects than on matters of the heart. But hold on tight, because you've also got a thing for those who date with marriage in mind. No casual hookups for you , it's all about those who are in it for the long haul. Now, let's talk about down-to-earth vibes. The ones you attract, They're as grounded as a sturdy oak tree. It's like they've got their feet planted firmly on the ground, which makes for a really solid connection. And speaking of connections, you're kind of a magnet for the old-school romantics. Yep, you're attracting those who've got a dash of old-fashioned love in their style. It's like they're straight out of a vintage love story. The lovers you're drawing in are all about stability and commitment. Heartbreak? Not on their agenda. These are the ones who are ready for the real deal, a relationship with a rock-solid foundation. So, if you've been worried about love's rollercoaster, fret not. Your vibe is all about that steady, unshakeable connection.
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don't worry about me
sypnosis; dan heng gets pretty badly hurt after fighting a monster one day and you have to make sure your boyfriend’s okay!
pairing(s); bf dan heng + (trailblazer) gn! reader ⟿ featuring; established relationship, flustered dan heng (hehe), kinda dialogue heavy at the start
❀ wc; 1,585
a/n; ok to explain my inspo, whenever i play hsr and dan heng is dying, i heal the lovely man ofc, and his voiceline literally is "don't worry about me" (꧆▽꧆). anyw this turned out way sappier than i imagined loool
You have just arrived in the Astral Express after a long day of helping Natasha with the clinic. You’re feeling tired, and going around Belebog alone today just added to the exhaustion.
You actually missed having Dan Heng tell you to make rational choices during your quests. Without your boyfriend today, you ended up fighting probably double the enemies you needed to.. Plus, (you’d never tell her this) but you secretly missed March’s bright voice.
Speaking of her, as soon as you step into the parlor car, you’re greeted by the smiley girl. She’s sitting on one of the couches with Himeko, and they wave you over.
“y/n!” She sings, “come look! I took these today.” You approach the pair, greeting Himeko with a friendly smile and look at March’s phone with them.
“See here… this was when we were on the way to Rivet Town!” She shows you guys a selfie of herself grinning widely, with a deadpanned Dan Heng behind her. You and Himeko giggle. “The town was pretty cool. It was all dark and eerie, like some sort of ghost town! I wanted to film for you guys but the place was flooded with monsters so Dan Heng told me to put my phone away and fight. What a party pooper.….”
You smile softly as the girl continues showing you and Himeko pictures she took (and snuck) of herself, Dan Heng, and the town. “Oh yeah! On our way back here, we encountered this huuuge monster. He was big and angry, it was scary!” She widens her eyes. “Thankfully Dan Heng was there! He fought that monster like his life depended on it. Which, it did.”
She scrolls through her gallery and exclaims, “Hey, look! I managed to snap a picture of it before we fought.”
March turns the phone to show you two. The image is a little blurry but you recognise the monster. You’d fought it sometime before, and truthfully, it wasn’t an easy fight. The last time you defeated it, you were fighting with Selee, Bronya, Dan Heng and March. If it was tough for a five person team… just how much harder was it for two?
“It looks really strong, March.” Himeko speaks the words in your mind, “did either of you get hurt?” You turn to March, eyes wide with a little worry.
The girl thinks for a second before shaking her head. “Nope. I’m okay now!” She nods, pausing straight after. A sheepish smile takes over her face. “To be honest… Dan Heng did most of the fighting with that monster, heheh… I was knocked out 3 minutes in…”
You blink, heart beating just a little faster. “Is- is he badly hurt?” You ask.
March replies quickly, “Don’t worry, he said he was alright! Just a few scratches, a little sore.”
Himeko nods. “I did see him before he went to his room earlier, he didn’t look like he was in pain.”
You hum in reply. Dan Heng is strong, you know that. But you knew your boyfriend, and he never shows his pain. Even if he was a breath away from death, he’d still say ‘I’m fine’ with a blank face to anyone who asks.
You decide to excuse yourself to check on him. Nobody knows what state he could be in right now. Bruised? Bleeding? Dead??? (Okay so you are overthinking a tad bit but hey, it’s possible.)
As soon as you get to his room door, you nearly slam it open. You scan the room frantically before seeing Dan Heng, who’s sitting down on his makeshift bed with his back against the shelf behind him.
You immediately dash to his side and study him. In front of him is a box of bandaids, a bottle of antibacterial solution and a bag of cotton balls. He’s holding a soaked cotton ball too. The boy has his shirt off, and you clearly see the bruises and scars on his torso and arms. You can see the little cuts on his face, one or two looking awfully deep. Your eyes start to water at the sight. It must hurt so badly…
“you’re back already?” His voice sounds, making you look up at him. You feel like you can’t talk so you nod. Dan Heng already knows how worried you are of course, as soon as he meets your glistening eyes. He sighs. “y/n, I’m okay.”
You blink, eyes still watering as you furrow your brows slightly. “Are you sure?? It look bad babe..”
“It’s.. not as bad as it looks. Trust me- Ow.” He tries to assure you, although he accidentally winces when you touch on his cheek lightly. You widen your eyes as he closes his eyes and sighs.
“Sorry!” You peep, suddenly aware of every move you make around him. You didn’t want to make things worse.
He shakes his head, eyes fluttering open again. “It’s alright.” He replies, then moves to continue tending to his wounds on one arm. “I just need to- disinfect these.”
You watch him wince between every few words. As he proceeds to clean the rest of his cuts, you stare like a hawk, as if doing that will make the process less painful for him.
Dan Heng clears his throat. You glance up at him again and this time, you can see he looks a little shy. You tilt your head in confusion. “Um…” his eyes flicker and he looks down shyly, “would you be comfortable helping me with the cuts on my back? I can’t reach those.”
Oh! “Of course.” You nod quickly, scooting forward to plant yourself right in front of your boyfriend. You grab a cotton ball and soak it in the antibacterial solution. Meanwhile, Dan Heng turns himself around, back facing you. Secretly, he’s glad he can turn away from you, so he can hide his embarrassment.
Since the start of your relationship, you and Dan Heng have never really been a physical couple. Mostly due to the fact that he’s not the physically affectionate type. He often feel guilty about it. You never complain though, since to you, your boyfriend expresses his love in other ways that are cute and sweet.
Having never been physical, you also haven’t seen him shirtless. So this situation being the first time, Dan Heng feels a little flustered. You, being so focused on making sure his wounds are cleaned properly, don’t realise it at all.
The whole time as you’re disinfecting each wound with care, his cheeks are burning and his ears are bright red. He’s so grateful that you’re too busy to see him like this.
With all that on his mind, he barely reacts to your cleaning. Before he knows it, you’re done.
“Okay, I’m done here.” You announce, sighing in satisfaction. “You can turn around now.”
Dan Heng slowly turns back around, not really wanting to because he can still feel his face burning. You ready yourself with another soaked cotton ball. He glances at it in your hand and furrows his brows, an invisible question mark appearing above his head. “What’s that for?”
You smile softly, eyes filled with nothing but care as you scan the few cuts on his face. “Your face silly, there’s a few.” You point out. You move even closer now, placing yourself on his lap in order to do so. You focus on one scar at a time, tending to it. “Tell me if it’s really bad, okay? I’ll be gentle.”
“…Yeah.” He barely whispers. Now your faces are less than three inches apart. While you are staring at his scars, his eyes are on you and your focused face. His heart is thumping like crazy. Seeing you being so careful with him makes Dan Heng feel warm inside. He feels like he’s falling in love with you even more right there and then.
Besides a little white noise, the room is comfortably silent. Occasionally his breath hitches from the sharp pain but it’s nothing too painful.
There’s one cut left to disinfect, and this one is visibly deeper than the rest. You softly dab on it, but the stinging catches Dan Heng off guard and he flinches. “Sorry baby.” You say softly, an apologetic look on your face. “Just a little more.”
He nods, quietly speaking. “Don’t worry about me. I… It doesn’t hurt.” You simply hum in response. It’s clear that he’s lying. He never wants to cause trouble for anyone, especially for you, and you grin softly knowing that.
Moments later, you finish up by sticking a bandaid on the cut. You can finally breathe a sigh of relief. “There we go.” Your eyes meet his again, and this time you notice the flushed look on his face. You smile confusingly. “What?”
“Um.. you’re- I- uh…” Your boyfriend stutters, barely able to look you in the eyes. You’ve never seen his this flustered before. It takes a moment before it hits you.
You’re sitting in his lap. He’s shirtless. Oh. OH.
“Oh my- sorry!” Your eyes widen, cheeks getting rosy. Dan Heng looks to the side, his cheeks burning, shaking his head to say ‘no it’s fine’. You move to get up from his lap.
In the very moment, Dan Heng doesn’t know what washes over him but he grabs hold of your arm gently to stop you from getting up. Your eyes interlock, both of you flushed. “Thank you for helping me.” His whispers.
And before you can reply, his soft lips are planted onto yours.
© mistyacorn do not plagiarize or repost please, just enjoy it ykwim
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hii! i just saw the mha men as girl dads thing and it was so cute😭😭🥹
could i request the same concept except maybe they’ve returned from patrol very late at night and saw their little baby asleep (or awake, take your pick✨) at the front door waiting for them?
thank you 🩷
SYNOPSIS. returning to find their child waiting for them.
TAGS. dabi, tamaki, mirio x reader, established relationship, fluff, mentions of blood, burns and scars.
NOTES. hello hello! i’m so glad you enjoyed it 😭 your request made my heart flutter and i really enjoyed writing this (baby fever was seriously activated) <3
dabi:
— He’s drenched in rainwater, another’s blood and decorated with a couple of new slashes. None too deep, but still ones to be cautious of. He steps through the front door with a groan, and considering it’s 3am, he’s surprised to find the hallway light still on. When he hears a soft snore, his heart skips a beat and he tenses, only to glance over at the bottom of the stairs to find his three-year-old son dozed off.
— Dabi takes a moment to process the preciousness of the moment, the stinging from his scars barely felt amongst the warmth in his chest. He smiles faintly, a very subtle expression, kicks his boots off on the doormat and picks the boy up. “You idiot. You know I don’t come home until late,” Dabi mumbles, huffing out a sigh. He could’ve caught a cold like this, or have a sore neck from his sleeping position.
— “You’re here,” you whisper from the top of the stairs. Dabi’s gaze is quick to find your face, admiring your disheveled hair, tired eyes and sleep attire. “He insisted he’d welcome his Dad home from his mission. He’s been down there all night,” you chuckle softly, heart fluttering when Dabi ascends the stairs and presses a kiss to your neck, wrapping his free arm around you. You take note of the blood on his arm and give him a look of annoyance, one he knows to acknowledge by heading into the bathroom for you to patch him up.
tamaki:
— It’s almost midnight when Tamaki comes home. The second he walks in, he's quick to lock the door behind him carefully. He’s panting from exertion but evidently calmer now that he's home, carefully pulling his shoes off just as he hears a small, sleepy whine. He looks over to the coat rack by the door to find his two-year-old daughter sleeping under it. However, from the sound of the door locking, she’s already starting to flutter her eyes open.
— “Papa!” she gasps once her vision focuses. She scrambles to her feet, almost tripping as she dashes towards him and jumps into his embrace. He’s quick to catch her and hold her tight with a small gasp, hesitant from all the blood on his hero suit. “Hey, what are you doing up so late?” he whispers, patting her back. “Where’s mama?” His daughter goes into a long rant about how you're already asleep and how she's been waiting for over three hours, sitting by the door with her snacks beside her.
— Tamaki lets out a breathy laugh, ruffling her hair. "Determined to welcome me?" She nods frantically. "Well now that you have, I think we need to get you to bed." But by the time he says that, she's already asleep, head resting on his chest and her sleepy whines starting up again. Tamaki smiles contently, rubbing her back as he walks up the stairs, into your room and places his daughter down to sleep before getting ready for bed himself.
mirio:
— It's not too late when Mirio returns, about 10PM, but he's still careful when locking the door and pulling his shoes off. He makes his way into the kitchen to wash his hands, only to see you and his daughter sat at the dining table, anxious expressions painting your faces (or however anxious of an expression a five-month-old can muster). The moment he steps foot into the kitchen, you notice him, holding your daughter in your embrace as you speed-walk towards him.
— "Oh my God, love, are you alright? Who's blood is that?" Your brow is furrowed as your run your hands along his chest, his abdomen, and up to his neck. Mirio tenses at the intimate contact, flushing a light pink, but he quickly assures you that "I'm a-okay, sweetie. This blood isn't mine, some low-level villain got in my way last minute, so this is just the result," he laughs softly. His daughter squeals and coos, reaching for her father. Mirio wipes the blood off his chest before snatching her into his arms and spinning her around, their giggles filling the air.
— She starts to tug on and play with his cape, wrapping it around herself in an attempt to play hide-and-seek. Mirio indulges her and, while she's in his arms, starts running around in a mocking attempt of trying to look for her. You exhale at the sight, relief filling your chest to see his usual demeanour. Your daughter refused to sleep until she saw the beaming face of her father, and now that she had, she still didn't seem like she was going to sleep any time soon.
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