#...I think I'm going to make some metal bugs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jadeylovesmarvelxo · 8 months ago

Text

Part two to this story

After Jason's cruel display and your identity of Eddie's admirer being public knowledge, you're sure he will be disgusted. He hates you and your friends doesn't he?

Turns out you're in for a big surprise.

Minors shoo! Angst, fluff, sweet Eddie and reader taking no shit.

If you have any requests then send me an ask. My request rules are in my pinned post ❤️

🎀💌

Hellfire Slut. The words had practically burned into your brain as you tossed and turned in bed. Jason's cruelty was nothing new but you didn't think he'd ever go this far.

It was bad enough that Eddie's best friend had caught you in the act of delivering the notes and the thought he could spill all to Eddie, you didn't expect your secret to come out in such a public way.

The notes that you had poured your heart to Eddie had been clear to see by everyone and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn't care that people knew you were smitten with Eddie, it was the fact that he was probably disgusted that you had feelings for him.

You dreaded going to school but you knew you had to face Eddie and Jason at some point. It didn't stop nightmares plaguing your mind all night about what would happen come first period.

...

Homeroom was the first thing today before any other classes, you try not to draw attention to yourself as you slide into a seat at the back of class. However it feels like all eyes are on you today, Chrissy takes the seat beside you and holds your hand giving it a tight squeeze, it makes you feel a tiny bit better.

Mrs Jones isn't in class yet so chatter buzzes around you incessantly, your skin tingles as you feel Eddie's gaze on you a few times, try not to look up into those pretty brown eyes.

One of Jason's friends called Tyler smirks at you, he's sitting beside Jason and says loudly for all to hear. "So little miss perfect likes a freak in the sheets huh? Who would have thought?" there's a little ripple of laughter that's quelled by Chrissy's vicious glare. She's normally a sweetie so seeing her pissed shut everyone up.

Ignore him. Just ignore him you chant in your head but he still continues. "You know I was going to ask you out but fuck that. You're a dumb little bitch"

There's a collective silence as you hear Eddie's metal lunchbox drop to the floor. To your surprise he's glaring daggers at Tyler, you also notice that his knuckles are bruised. What the hell happened?

"Oooh you're in luck sweetcheeks, maybe Munson likes you back and the two of you can be freaks together"

You're fraying control over being calm snaps. Screw this. You weren't going to sit and let him run his mouth or let anyone like him or Jason make you cry again.

"You can admit to everyone you're jealous Tyler it's okay. We all heard about the little problem you have, Stacy told us all about how disappointing you are" you fake a sympathetic smile at him and his eyes nearly bug out of his sockets.

Jason looks ready to say something but you don't give the satisfaction of listening to the bullshit he says. "I couldn't be less interested in what you have to say Carver, you're a pathetic, nasty little worm"

While sassing Jason you miss the look of awe on Eddie's face. Gareth snorts at Eddie's stunned look.

"Dude, I really do think I'm in love" Eddie murmurs sounding almost reverent. Gareth sighs. Maybe now Eddie knew it was you that sent the notes the two of you could get together and he could get a minute of peace.

Meanwhile you lean back in your seat relieved as Mrs Jones comes in. There's still a question that's nagging at you though.

"Chrissy, why are Eddie's knuckles bruised?"and that's when Chrissy launches into the tale of how Eddie punched Jason after you left yesterday.

Hearing this makes a small bubble of hope build up inside of you. Maybe just maybe Eddie feeling the same for you might not be as hopeless as you first thought.

...

After a few fruitless attempts Eddie manages to track you down as you're coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy. She gives you an impish, knowing smile as she leaves you and Eddie to talk.

Telling Jason and Tyler what you thought about them made you feel a little bit better for a while, boosted your shattered confidence but now Eddie was around and you could feel that confidence crack.

What was he about to say? Was he going to tell you he was disgusted?

"You don't have to be nervous princess" you feel your nerves dissipate at his soothing tone.

"I know you thought the notes were a joke but they aren't Eddie, I've really fallen for you. I was crushing on you for such a long time. That's why I wrote the notes in the first place, I was worried if I told you in person that you would be disappointed" the words all come out in a rush and you feel relieved getting it all out.

He shakes his head. "I mean I would have been surprised but the way you spoke in the notes...how could you ever think I'd ever be disappointed sweetheart?" His words fill you with hope, a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest.

"You know because I'm from the dark side" you murmur and he frowns. His hand reaches out to hold yours and you wince at the bruising on his knuckles.

"You didn't need to do that Eddie, I don't want you hurt" he shrugs as if it's no big deal.

"It was worth it. You're worth it"

Eddie gently takes your hand and kisses it, "I fell in love with you through what you said sweetheart, I want to know all about you. I don't give a fuck about who you're friends with or if you're part of the dark side. I just want to be with you".

A slow smile works it's way on your face and you lean forward and kiss him, continue kissing him until you're both a little dazed and smiling goofily at each other.

"Uh maybe we could go out for Milkshakes after school, if you want princess?" you nod feeling the bubble of excitement in your belly.

After all that worrying you were going on your first date with Eddie and you couldn't wait.

Maybe happy endings were possible after all ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

488 notes · View notes

the-teufort-nine · 19 days ago

Note

Ignore this if you’re uncomfortable with it no worries. Can we do an reader x merc (particularly medic, sniper, engie, demo, spy, and maybe heavy) Where they find reader greening out (super pale/passing out) and the mercs have to “save” you? Establish relationship please! Super hurt/comfort! I need a pick me up after a bad bad sesh.

anon you're so real for this. The one and only time i tried weed i greened out so bad that it scared me off drugs 4 ever (don't do edibles in the woods kids!)

I hope this makes u feel a bit better. get plenty of rest & water <3

Mercs x GN!Reader | Too Much THC

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ Hurt/Comfort | SFW | Cw: drugs, bad trip, thc overdose symptoms, vomiting ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Featuring:

Medic, Sniper, Engie, Demo, Spy, and Heavy

Scenario: When Respawn goes down for a routine bug check and maintenance, Reader decides to take advantage of the ceasefire to partake in some of Pyro's "special" brownies. However, things take a bad turn when the fire bug's edibles turn out to be too much for them to handle.

🕊️+Medic+🕊️

"Y/N? Taube, are you in here?"

The effort it took to pry your eyes open was truly Herculean, though you couldn't, for the life of you, remember when it was you'd actually closed them. Nausea made your vision swim, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't respond to your boyfriend's concerned voice. Words seemed beyond your capabilities, as was doing more than slowly blinking your eyes.

You were in the medbay, slouched down on the floor with your back pressed against a frigid metal cabinet. With great, great difficulty, you recalled that you'd stumbled in here when you began to realize that something was wrong, hoping to find Medic tending to his birds or riling up the living bread loaf he kept in a large jar, or whatever the hell it was he did on your rare days off. However, the medbay had been empty, and your legs had decided that they'd had enough of holding your weight.

"Y/N? Pyro told me you looked as though you vere going to be sick before you ran off, and zhat zey haven't been able to find you since. Please tell me you're in here, because ve searched the rest of ze base and I don't think I could handle you getting stuck inside ze walls again."

The tiled floor in front of you was starting to look like a choppy ocean, so you squeezed your eyes shut and knocked your head back against the cabinet behind you. It made a dull 'thud', and you heard the sound of footsteps approaching you.

Success had never felt so headache inducing.

"Ach! Mein liebling, are you okay?" Medic's voice was suddenly right next to you, and you jolted slightly, eyes opening in panic.

Your boyfriend was crouched next to you, an extended hand held aloft in the air as he waited for you to settle. When your breathing evened out once more, he gently wrapped and arm around you, frowning when he felt how cool you were to the touch. Even through your uniform, the doctor could feel that you were much colder than you should be, especially given the New Mexico heat that permeated throughout the rest of the base.

"I think I'm paralyzed." You responded, eyes moisiting as you leaned into the touch, "M' legs stopped working when I tried to find you."

"Y/N, I promise you're not paralyzed. You're simply having an adverse reaction to ze cannabis you ingested." Medic soothed, before slightly jabbing the back of one of your knees. You kicked out with a yelp, drawing a slight chuckle from him, "See?"

Unfortunately, you were feeling more than a little sensitive at the moment, and it only took a moment before tears filled your eyes.

"Don't laugh at me!" you warbled, lip wobbling a bit as you voiced your hurt feelings.

The look of amusement on Medic's face was wiped off the instant he saw your tears, and he quickly shifted into damage control mode.

"Scheiße! Please don't cry, taube, I'm not laughing at you!" he pulled you in closer, letting you rest your head against his chest as he shifted his hold on you, getting ready to pull you to your feet, "Come now, you vill be alright. Let's get you to your room so you can warm up and lie down, ja? I do believe Pyro intends to bring you one of zeir, ah, what's the word, weighted blankets?"

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and sniffed wetly, grateful that he'd changed into his casual clothes, because the smell of his usual work coat was far too 'hydrogen peroxide and blood' scented for you to handle right now.

"Will you stay with me?" you asked quietly, clinging to him as he helped you become vertical once more. "Please?"

Medic smiled and gently pet your hair, taking the brunt of your weight with little trouble as you staggered up onto your feet. "Of course. I vill stay with you until you feel better, and zhen I vill go kill Pyro for letting you run off by yourself in such a state."

"Mnh, no you can't kill Pyro. No Respawn, 'member?" you muttered into his chest, not wanting to pull away yet, lest the world turn into an optical illusion yet again.

"Ah, verdammt, must have slipped my mind." he tutted, voice tinged with false disappointment, "I suppose I vill simply have to settle vith cuddling you instead."

⎚-⎚⌖Sniper⌖⎚-⎚

"Roo?! Roo?! Bloody 'ell, I swear if you don't wake up, I'm gonna lose my damn mind!"

Consciousness was slow to return to you, but by God did it make sure you knew how much it didn't want to be here. The only indication that you were actually awake, aside from the sound of your boyfriend's panicked voice coming from somewhere above (behind? Christ, you couldn't tell at the moment) came in the form of a disgusting, semi-familiar taste in your mouth; the patented Dustbowl combo of sand and blood.

With a sputtering cough, you managed to pull your hands beneath your prone form and shoved yourself up enough to hack and spit the vile mix out. A shaky sigh of relief came from your boyfriend's direction, wherever that was, and suddenly there were hands patting your back, helping to clear your airways.

"Christ alive, Roo, you nearly gave me a fuckin' heart attack!" Sniper barked, though his voice was filled more with relief than any form of anger, "What the fuck are ya doin' out here?"

"What?" you croaked groggily, rubbing at your aching head, which felt as though it had taken a direct hit from one of Scout's bats. Hadn't you just been on your way to your boyfriend's camper van? "Where'm I?"

"Middle'a the damn battlefield, Roo." Sniper frowned, "Yer right lucky I was nearby an' spotted ya. Dunno how long you've been out here for, but ya look right crook, luv."

You groaned and sat up fully, nearly toppling over as a rush of dizziness washed over you. Sniper was quick to catch you, plonking himself right down in the dust behind you as he drew you in closer, hugging you to his chest. He listened to you breathe for a moment, watching as your face scrunched up as you licked gritty sand out of your blood-stained teeth, the sight reassuring him that you were, in fact, alive. It looked as though you'd somehow managed to fall off one of the nearby bridges, judging by the amount of bruises that were starting to form on your face and arms.

"Fucking Pyro." you hissed, before spitting out another mouthful of blood and dirt, "That is the last time I trust them to make edibles, Jesus Christ."

"Strewth, ya' took one'a the fire bug's eddies?!" Sniper ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his hat slightly, "No wonder ya' fell ass over backwards, you must be greened as all hell! It's a bloody miracle ya' made it this far!"

The australian slid one arm beneath your knees as he adjusted his hold, grunting as he wobbled to his feet. He was hardly the strongest mercenary on your team, but you didn't survive out in the Outback for most of your life, and then survive traveling around with 9 other lunatics to fight and die and fight again in an endless gravel war, without picking up some muscle.

"Right, let's get ya' to Medic. I'm willin' ta bet ya' broke somethin', givin' your right shit luck, darl." Sniper said, eyes flicking over your battered body. While he couldn't see any obvious signs of serious injury, it was obvious that you were in pain. "She'll be alright, Roo. The Doc'll fix ya' up, then you can rest up in the van. Sound good?"

You let out a weak approximation of an agreement, not feeling well enough to form a proper response. Instead, you tucked your face into your boyfriend's neck, smiling slightly when you felt his stubble scratch against your cheek. The scent of coffee and gun oil filled your senses as Sniper started off towards the medbay, and it gave you something to focus on other than the pain that radiated throughout your entire body.

The next time you wanted to get high, you'd just smoke with Sniper. It would be a hell of a lot less painful and embarassing.

🧰🔧Engineer🔧🧰

You were having a heart attack.

Your nails dug into the skin nearest your heart as you fought to calm the erratic organ, your breaths coming in rapid, pained pants. Cold sweat dripped down your neck as you panicked silently, unable to find your voice to call for help, to scream, to do anything. If you could just speak, then perhaps you could get Pyro's attention. The masked mercenary was lounging on their bed only a few feet away, their head tilted back as they gazed up towards the painting of a rainbow unicorn on their ceiling, nodding along slightly to the record the two of you had put on earlier.

The mega baboon heart in your chest, though incredibly useful in battle, was now working against you, the increased rapid blood flow causing you to feel lightheaded. If you didn't do something fast, you were going to pass out.

Taking the deepest breath you could, you attempted to call out to Pyro. Unfortunately, all you managed was a near-silent rasp, the attempt taking more out of you than you'd anticipated. You blinked, and suddenly you were on the ground, Pyro frantically mumbling in front of you. It was harder than usual to pick out their words, especially with how rapidly they were speaking, but you managed to glean that they were frightened by your collapse, and that they were going to go and find your boyfriend.

As quick as a wildfire during the dry season, Pyro left your field of view, throwing open the door to their room and running out. The slam of the door hitting the wall made you flinch, and made you very aware of the fact that you still weren't breathing right.

The panic that had left when you fell unconscious returned full force, and you writhed on the floor as a stabbing sensation radiated out from within your chest. No matter what you did, or how you positioned yourself, the pain would not relent, and your vision began to blur.

"Y/N!"

A southern-tinged voice broke through your panic, and suddenly there was a muscular arm supporting your back, tilting you up slightly. A warm, calloused hand gently rubbed your chest, applying a light pressure.

"Easy now darlin', ah got'cha." Engineer soothed, his own rapid breathing starting to level out. When Pyro had burst into his room in a frenzied panic, yelling about his partner suddenly passing out, he'd run out of there like the Devil himself had been nipping at his heels.

The gentle pressure and familiar voice of your beloved southern boyfriend slowly brought you out of your fear-induced panting. You blinked up at Engineer, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. A gloved hand gently wiped them away.

"There we go, sweetheart. Try'n match my breathin'." he murmured, continuing to stroke your cheek with his thumb, "That's it. You're doin' so good, darlin'."

You finally managed to take a deep breath, sighing in relief when the pain in your chest began to wane.

"Thank you, Engie." you said softly, leaning into your boyfriend's arm. Engineer smiled, and with his goggles pushed up as they were, you could see his eyes crinkle as his mouth turned upwards.

"It was no trouble, doll. I'm just glad you're alright." he said, gently pressing your foreheads together, "Y'gave me 'n Py a helluva fright. I think they just about burst into tears."

"Oh no." you said sadly, managing to sit yourself up as the topic of your conversation finally made it back to the room. Pyro warbled out an apology in between exhausted pants, the arsonist clearly wiped out from the 'fuck off amounts of weed in their system/dead sprinting to Engie's room and back' combo. "Ro-ro, it's okay! We'll just lower the dose next time, yeah?"

Engineer merely shook his head with a laugh as Pyro wheezed against the doorframe, a shaky thumbs up being your only response.

🍾🗡️Demo🗡️🍾

+ Soldier is here too. He's not your boyfriend, but he is boyfriend adjacent most of the time.

Oh dear God, why did no one warn you about the dangers of mixing weed with alcohol?!

"Aye, there ya' go, mo luaidh, just get it allll out." Demo comforted, rubbing your back while sharing a sympathetic look with Soldier.

The two men had invited you to come and drink with them after they had found you lounging on one of the common room couches, and although you were already feeling quite buzzed after hanging out with Pyro, you weren't one to turn down the opportunity to spend time with your two favourite boys.

Unfortunately, the liquor in your stomach had decided to start a war with the edibles already stationed there, and neither of them were being very kind as they knocked you on your ass with the shakes and forced you to upchuck your lunch into the nearest bucket.

"Demo, I think 'm dying." you groaned, before sticking your head back into the bucket, a wave of uncontrollable shivers wracking your body, "Tell Medic he can't experiment on my body, okay?"

Suddenly, you pitched forward, and it was only Soldier's quick reflexes and Demo's hand suddenly snagging the back of your shirt that kept you from face planting into your own vomit.

"Fuck off, yer not dyin'." your boyfriend insisted, though you could, through the sudden wave of dizziness that had assaulted you, hear the worry in his voice, "Ye just had a wee bit too much to drink, that's all."

"Weed's not helpn'." you managed to bite out, before vomiting once again.

"Yer high?! Christ, ah' bloody knew there was somthin' off about'cha!" Demo groaned, smacking his free hand onto his face. Beside him, Soldier grimaced.

"Son, take it from me, it's gonna get worse before it gets better. You WILL feel as though you are in the trenches, but we will help you!" he shouted, before remembering that loud sounds were probably the last thing you needed at the moment, "I could try contacting Merasmus? He made me some kind of wizard voodoo potion that helped me feel better the last time I was higher than an eagle."

"No." was the firm reply from both you and Demo. The last thing you wanted was Merasmus dicking around with his magic while you were greening out.

Another round of shivers ripped through you, making the bucket rattle in your grip as you fought to keep yourself upright. Soldier tucked his arm around your midsection as Demo resumed his back rubs. Their presence grounded you, and you smiled weakly, though neither could see it, since you were still face down in the bucket.

"Thanks, guys." you said, wincing as your stomach turned and your vision swam.

"Do ye want to try an' move to the couch, love?" Demo asked.

"Nah, I think I'd just end up down here again if I tried to stand up." you replied, "Will- will you two stay, though? I know you probably have better things to do, but..."

"Negatory, private! I have never left a man behind, and I will not start now!" Soldier stated, and Demo nodded in agreement.

"Solly's right, a thasgaidh, we're stayin' right here 'till yer all better."

🚬🔪Spy🔪🚬

There was someone in the base.

Now, usually that would be a given; you lived with nine other mercenaries, after all, but this was different. Your teammates were supposed to be out, taking advantage of the ceasefire to get some much needed shopping done. Even your boyfriend, Spy, who usually never accompanied the others, had gone along this time, citing a need to pick up a few things at the local post office. You had decided to stay, since you had been waiting for Pyro's 'special' brownie to kick in, and hadn't wanted to deal with the bustle of Tuefort while you were high.

Now, though, as you stood with your back against the corner of one of the hallways that led to the intel room, your trusty melee weapon clutched in your hands, you were sorely regretting your decision.

You swore you'd seen something moving around the base, always just out of sight. It had sent a thrill of fear through you and put you on high alert. Respawn was down; what if the other team had decided to risk a surprise attack? Take care of one of their enemies permanently? You were all alone, inebriated, with only a close range weapon to defend yourself. Easy pickings.

Swallowing hard, you let your gaze snap back and forth, a snarl pulling at your lips when you saw the air flicker slightly, just for a moment, at the edge of your vision. You whipped around, eyes wide and searching, your ears straining to pick up any possible sounds.

"Y/N?"

A scream tore itself from your lips, and you jerked your weapon up to a defensive position as you turned once more, this time to see-

"Spy?!"

Your boyfriend stood only a few feet away from you, hands raised defensively. You blinked, before shakily lowering your weapon, relief flooding you, "Oh, thank God its just you."

"Were you expecting someone else, mon amour?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N- no I just-" you ran a hand through your hair, still feeling a faint prickle of unease dance across the back of your neck, "I kept thinking I was seeing someone moving around the base. I- I think maybe Pyro messed up the dose in their brownies, because I am freaking out."

Spy made a soft sound of concern, and stepped closer, extending a hand to rest on your cheek. You smiled at your lover, but something still felt... off.

'Jesus, I must be greening out bad.' You thought to yourself, leaning into Spy's touch.

"I'm sorry to hear that, mon bijou. Would you like to retire to my quarters? Or, if you'd like, I can bring you to yours?" Spy offered sweetly.

"Yeah, that'd be-" you started, before his words suddenly caught up to you, the weed in your system making you a bit slower to react, "I'm sorry, honey, what did you call me?"

"Mon bijou. A fitting name for someone as beautiful as you."

My jewel. The one name Spy didn't like to call you. He'd never given you the full story, just saying that it was a nickname he associated with an unsavoury character from his past.

This was not your boyfriend.

Swallowing the fear that threatened to overwhelm you, you gave the enemy Spy your best smile. "Aw, you flatter me, darling. Do you mind leading the way? I'm a bit out of it right now."

"But of course." he replied, turning to walk down the hall, fully expecting you to follow him.

The second you were sure he had turned fully, you swung, your melee weapon catching him in the side. The wet shhhhck! of metal cutting through flesh was promptly overtaken by the man's cry of pain and shock. As he crumpled to the floor, his disguise melted away, revealing the colour of your enemy team.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" You screamed, arms raised as you gripped your bloodstained weapon tighter. Your breathing picked up as your adrenaline kicked in, your whole body seeming to buzz.

The enemy Spy hissed in pain, his hand instinctively going for his knife, before you swung your weapon down again, barely missing the appendage. Had you not been higher than the moon, the masked man would have been short a hand. Realising he was in a losing battle, and a potentially permanent one at that, your enemy scrambled up and became cloaked once again, racing back down the hall and, presumably, out of your base, leaving a trail of blood splatters as he ran.

With the danger gone, you dropped, shivering and shaking so badly that your weapon rattled loudly against the ground. Your breaths came in shallow, wheezing gasps, and you had to fight to keep your lunch from coming back up. Not knowing what else to do, you curled up in a defensive ball, pressing your swimming head into your knees.

"Y/N! Merde, merde, merde! Y/N! Where are you?!"

You jerked back to awareness, sucking in a breath through your teeth, jaw aching with how long you'd been clenching it. The base was alive once again, though the familiar sounds of chaos seeming much more frantic than usual.

How long had you been dissociating for? Christ, you were lucky that enemy Spy hadn't come back to finish you off.

The sound of rapid footsteps reignited your panic, and you squeezed the handle of your weapon. Had the rest of the enemy team come to finish you off? It sounded like your team was the ones here this time, but how could you be sure? You'd been right last time, after all.

Suddenly, Spy, your Spy, rounded a corner, looking uncharacteristically frazzled. When he spotted you, you could see the relief on his face, plain as day.

No, no you couldn't trust him. What if this was another trick?

"Y/N! Oh, ma moitié, you're okay, thank God. We saw ze blood and-"

"Get back!"

Spy paused, clearly caught off guard by your aggression. Wobbling to your feet, you glared at the man before you, putting all your effort into staying upright. You wouldn't be fooled twice.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes flicked over him, searching for any obvious tells. When none presented themselves, you cautiously stepped forward, weapon extended. Spy eyed you warily, but didn't make any sudden moves. It wasn't hard to piece together that something had happened while they had been gone, and if this was what his partner needed to feel safe, then he would allow it.

Once you were close enough, you roughly tapped the blunt part of your weapon against where you knew you had struck the enemy Spy, watching for any indication of pain. Spy continued to look at you with concern, but the colour of his suit and mask didn't change. This really was your Spy.

A relieved sob tore itself from your throat, and you all but fell into your partner's waiting arms. Spy wrapped his arms around you in an instant, only wincing a little bit as you cried into his suit. This one was less expensive that his usual work wear, and he could excuse it getting a little wet if it was in service of your comfort.

"What happened, mon rayon de soleil? Who has frightened you so?" he questioned, wondering who exactly it was he needed to kill. You didn't scare easy, but considering when he'd left you'd just recently had an edible... well, he wasn't exactly surprised that you were emotional than usual.

You just cried harder, unable to wrangle your emotions. Everything was just too much, and you justed wanted the comfort of your boyfriend and teammates.

As if reading your thoughts, Spy gently maneuvered you so that you could lean on him and walk down the bloodied hall, "Shhh, shhh, it's okay, petit tigre. You don't have to speak now. Let us get back and let ze others know you're okay before zey tear ze base down looking for you."

You nodded weakly, and this time, you let the man lead you down the hall.

✊🥪Heavy🥪✊

"This was poor choice, yes?"

You squinted at your boyfriend, trying your best to look ticked off from your place beneath a mountain of blankets. You were already suffering, did he have to rub it in?

Now, to be fair, you did make a poor choice recently. That poor choice being the decision to eat three of Pyro's weed brownies. At the time, it had seemed like a good choice. What better way to spend a lazy ceasefire day than by getting high with your buddy? Well, things had quickly gone sideways when you realized that Pyro had no idea of how much was too much when it came to THC, and thus the two of you were now high as balls and greening out hard.

"Yes." you muttered, snuggling down deeper in your blanket nest as you continued to hold Heavy's hand. You'd been holding onto it for the past half hour, having asked the giant to hold your hand when you'd started to get scared, only to grip his hand like you were making a business deal.

"Hmm, good. Heavy does not think лапушечка will make the same mistake again." your boyfriend mused. "Would you like snack?"

"I do," you started, squinting harder as you tried to sit up, "but I can't move. My bones are soup."

"Do not worry. Heavy will fix."

Suddenly, you were being picked up by the back of your shirt, not unlike a kitten. Heavy sat you on his lap, letting you rest against his broad chest. He produced a bag of pretzels, and your eyes locked onto the salty snack, your stomach growling. You attempted to lift your arms, but your limbs had decided to go on strike.

Seeing your struggle, your boyfriend took pity on you. Heavy fished out a few of the pretzels and placed them in your mouth. Processed grain and salt had never tasted so damn delicious.

"I love you." you sighed, leaning against Heavy as much as you could. Nothing said true love like feeding your partner when they were hungry, in your opinion.

"Я тоже тебя люблю."

88 notes · View notes

daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 days ago

Text

@idkwthgoitmww today is your day! <3 thanks for the request! Words: 1,226 Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader Warnings: language, descriptions of blood and injuries Summary: When Carol removes Negan from Alexandria and claims the council "banished" him, he doesn't expect to see anyone from the community again. Until Y/N shows up at his door for a visit which quickly goes sideways. A/N: I think this is just the first half of a little fic that was supposed ot be a short one shot, but I literally had no time to finish it today, so if you like it, let me know and I'll work on finishing it up when I can!

It was only mid-afternoon and Negan was beyond ready for the day to be over... He was already contemplating trying to sleep just so time would pass more quickly, but the thought that he'd wake up in the middle of the night and be unable to fall back asleep had stopped him.

The nights were dark in that little cabin alone. His thoughts were poor company. He was pouring himself a cup of water from the metal pitcher when he heard boots on the little wooden porch. He froze and strained his hearing. They approached the door slowly and then stopped. A board creaked softly underfoot. Then came a sharp resounding knock.

Negan set the pitcher down and his hand went to the fireplace poker laying on the hearth. "Who's there?" he called out. His voice was gruff and deep, markedly unwelcoming.

There was a moment of silence before your voice drifted through the wood. You sounded ...tired? "It's me. I would have called first, but—you know... zombie apocalypse and all that."

A grin grew on his face. This was an unprecedented and unexpected turn of events. His hand left the fireplace poker and he hurried to pull open the door. You were leaning against one side of the doorframe, but straightened up as he came into view. Negan was smiling at you, his hazel eyes surprised but crinkled at the corners. "Well, Hell, doll... You're about to make my week," he said.

"Your week? That's some low bar you have, Negan."

His smile quickly started to fade as he noticed you were a bit disheveled and there was a cut or smear of blood on your left ear. There was also a noticeable red mark on one side of your neck and something that looked like a fresh scratch. "You okay?" he asked, a shadow overtaking his features.

"I'm fine," you answered. "Are you going to leave me standing out here?"

Negan stepped back to let you pass by him but he was scrutinizing you carefully. "You sure? Because if I didn't know any better I'd say you had some trouble on the way here" There was a cavern between his eyebrows, deep lines of worry.

"Huh?" You tore your eyes away from the interior of the cabin and turned to look at him again.

"Your neck. And your ear, doll. What happened?"

Your hand flew to touch the top of your ear and you winced lightly as your fingers made contact with the wound. You gulped. "Just—had a little scuffle on the way here. I'm fine. Really."

"What kind of scuffle?" Negan asked, watching as you again turned to take in the inside of his cabin. You dropped your pack next to the little sofa against one wall. "That better not be a scratch from a walker on your neck," Negan said, his stomach turning even as the words left his mouth.

You turned and rolled your eyes. "No," you said. "Jesus, you think I'm some kind of amateur? Like I can't handle a walker."

"Hey, shit happens, doll," he said seriously. "Plenty of badasses have bit the dust from just the right shitstorm of shitty circumstances."

"No, it's not from a walker," you said, turning away from him again, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if to shield yourself from further probing questions. You made yourself busy thumbing open the few cabinets on the far wall. Most of them were bare except for layers of dust, the odd spider web or dead bug, and of course a nice sprinkling of mouse shit. "Nice place you've got here," you said sarcastically.

Negan let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, Carol really went above and beyond finding me something special."

You turned and glanced toward the opposite wall. There were ample shelves flanking the fireplace which held a few of Negan's personal items including some books and folded linens. A couple lanterns were set around the room. "It's not a total loss. Could use a good cleaning though... and maybe a little more living in," you said pointedly, casting a look in his direction. "What have you been doing since you got here?"

Negan didn't want to tell you the uncomfortable truth—wallowing in self-pity and regret over his past actions. Hallucinating in the wee hours of the morning when sleep evaded him. He deflected. "You think I'm going to give up on hearing about that 'scuffle' so easily? What happened, doll?"

You sighed and sank down slowly on the part of the sofa that looked the least dusty. "It was nothing. I just ran into a small group on the way here and—and had to deal with them."

The shadow settled back over Negan's features. "Small group? Deal with them?" he repeated.

You sighed and avoided his eyes. "That's what I said..."

"Well, excuse me for giving a shit, but what exactly does that mean? You ran into some people and ended up with a cut in your ear and a scratch and bruise on your neck? Fill in the blanks for me," he insisted, his concern growing by the moment.

You let out a laugh you hoped sounded casual. "You haven't even asked me why I'm here!"

"I already know the fuckin' answer to that. You missed the fuck out of me and couldn't go another day without my handsome face. Now give me the details, doll. Do I need to go looking out there for some shitheads?"

"No! I told you. I dealt with them!'

Negan let out a frustrated sigh. "Why're you being so cagey about this?" he prodded.

"Maybe because I want you to leave it alone," you retorted, a steely edge to your voice. "Jesus, Negan! I'm here! It—it doesn't fucking matter!"

But he was looking at you through narrowed eyes, clearly suspicious and concerned, but at the sharpness of your tone he conceded. He sighed, sinking down in one of the chairs at the little table in the middle of the room. "Alright... why are you here then? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you. When Carol 'banished' me to this little corner of solitude I pretty much figured that'd be the last I saw of anyone from Alexandria."

Your eyes flitted up to meet his again. You shrugged, trying to ignore your nerves. "Figured I'd come check on you. Make sure you weren't swimming in a pit of despair."

Negan laughed dryly. "Wow. You give a shit about my mental state, doll? Careful. That's practically flirting in my book... Should I start unbuttoning?" he asked, grinning.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up," you muttered, climbing to your feet, trying hard to suppress a wince. "I brought you a few supplies. I'm not sure what Carol left you with." You grabbed the loop on the top of your pack and started lifting it up, but the weight of it—you felt like white hot lightning shot through your entire body. Your vision went black and you were vaguely aware of dropping your pack and starting to crumple.

Negan was on his feet and catching you as you dropped into unconsciousness, swearing under his breath as you tipped into his arms like a ragdoll. "Doll? Hey, wake up, darlin'!" But you were out cold and lay completely limp in his arms. "Well, shit."

A/N: Raise your hand if you want a Part 2! Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger. Literally was not my intention (this time). I've worked over 30 hours in the last three days and am pretty busy and worn out! Drop me a note to motivate me to finish this up <3 k love you byeeee

#negan smith #negan imagines #negan drabbles #wicked wednesday #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan x y/n #negan fics #the walking dead #negan twd

110 notes · View notes

ghostbustting · 6 months ago

Note

I REALLY NEED A PART 2 OF YOUR FIRST FANFIC-

it’s amazing and i enjoyed every word i read in it.😭

I'M SO GLAD YOU LOVED IT SJSBDHSBA :DD

╰┈➤“𝑷𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑺„ ๋࣭⭑

From the 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 series

90s!James Hetfield x Reader

Contains Smut.

The lingering encounter with James Hetfield that night before his concert kept me up and awake almost every night, the printed pictures I kept, as James told me to do, an evidence of the filthy things we did on that couch. An evidence of how a frontman of a metal band was able to make me lose my self respect and dignity. Turning the old decent me to someone with such dirty thoughts every lonely night.

The way he held me, the way he felt in me, the way he kissed me, the way he talked to me.. every single thing he did to me that night burned a hole in my brain in order to fill that hole with that exact memory.

How I’d go through those pictures of me whenever I couldn’t sleep at night while I yearn for him is surely something I found shameless for me that I have to keep to myself.

His face, his voice, his touch.. oh what more can I wish for than to see him again? I can’t help but wonder if this even meant anything to him but meaningless sex with a random photographer.

I’d go through my days, walking down to street only to find people wearing Metallica t-shirts, posters of him on random walls, his music blaring from some bar. Everything just forced me to remember him.

Even at work, my colleagues wouldn’t stop praising me for being able to meet all four members of Metallica in person. If only they knew what happened between me and one of those members that night.

Another thing that bugged me was the fact that there’s still one last thing he asked of me that I have not done; to go to his next concert and give him the copies of the pictures.

Each time his requests linger in my mind, I feel a pang of nervousness in my heart, knowing my full schedule of work had prevent me to fulfill what he wanted me to do, not having enough free time and so less money to even buy a ticket if I had time. It felt like I had completely lose the chance of meeting him once again and giving him those pictures that could’ve made him remember our encounter forever.

It’s a thought I start to think of daily.

That fact also made me remember what I am, just a lucky new photographer that was sent to take innocent pictures in the backstage of Metallica’s show. Being able to be touched and acknowledged by James Hetfield that way should be more than enough luck for me.

I should be grateful.

But at the same time, it’s him.

How can one not be greedy when it’s James Hetfield?

At first, I don’t believe nor understand how girls could easily fall to their knees just by the sight of him from a piece of paper or the sound of him from the radio. I thought he was just another rock star with a bunch of groupies. I was wrong, apparently. That man just knows his ways around women.

His presence onstage and offstage can both make you pay full attention to him, he was.. a totally interesting person. Even besides the sex we had.

It was the frontman effect I suppose, always being able to catch people’s attention.

Then, as if fate have finally went my way, my manager decided to send me to yet again another Metallica concert to take more pictures of the band and the show. Words cannot express how much I wanted to jump up and down and spin around and roll around the ground out of excitement that day. I couldn’t count how many people thought I was a mad woman walking down the streets with a smile that wide, cheeks red.

My heart never stopped beating loudly whenever I think about meeting Hetfield in person again, no matter whether he decided to play with me again or forgotten about me. I just yearn to see those blue eyes of his in person once again. To make him see me again. To make him acknowledge me again. Even if he forget me, at least I’ll please myself by doing enough such as observing in the sight of that beautiful man.

This time, they sent me with a partner again— and unfortunately, he was well and healthy, meaning I had to go through this with him trailing around with me together. Though it means easier work process, it also gave me a small lost of hope for having a private encounter with Hetfield again. That is if it’s even possible in the first place.

That night, my partner, Stan and I walk into the backstage together, this time we were told to go after the show instead of before the show. Yet the situation is no different, still the same busy backstage of a Metallica concert.

“Just.. act professional but keep it totally casual, ‘kay?” I spoke to him, he had an stupid nervous expression on his face as he nods that made me cringe to myself, he was also a new photographer, a little younger than me even. He’s kind of a wimp, always making me do all the fucking talking. But eh it’s his first time meeting one of the biggest metal bands.

I walk ahead of him, practically leading his slow and unsure steps even though I barely know this place, I just continue to walk down the hallway. Cause as they say, keep moving forward.. right?

And as I thought in my theory, we came across a door with the band’s name on it, apparently all in the same dressing room this time. “Is that it?” Stan asked behind me in a shocked whisper.

I roll my eyes a little and chuckle nervously at his dorky reaction, trying to act like this shit is normal to me. Meanwhile, my mind cannot stop thinking about James and the pictures he asked me for that I had brought in my bag. “Professional, right?” I say, almost to myself more than to him.

“Okay, let’s do this…” I mutter with a sigh as I slowly place my hand on the handle, pulling it down with a tongue click as I slowly push the door open.

Just as I did, oh guess just who showed up in front of the door?

James stood there, a stupid smirk was on his face— yeah, that typical James Hetfield smirk, his sweat visible through his black top, yet another beer in his hand. His eyebrows raised and his smirk faltered a little when he saw me, quite obviously surprised to see me here.

Our eyes meet, not a single one of us able to utter out a word as we’re still phased by this sudden reunition. He blinked a couple times before taking the sight of me in, “..You.”

My own eyes widened a little, before I clear my throat and speak as well. “Hi. We’re uh.. here to take pictures for the papers..?” My fingers fiddle with the strap of my rucksack. I can only hope he doesn’t have any super hearing ability. Cause then he’d be able to hear the sweat trickling down the back of my neck, the small breaths I let out nervously, or how embarrassingly fast my heart beats.

Then, his smirk returns and he move aside. “Right. Step right in, sweets.” He say, calling me with that damn nickname again that I haven’t been able to shoo out of my head ever since our last encounter, the way he called me ‘Sweets’ or ‘Sweetheart’ scratching a part of my brain that I surely cannot reach.

Stan and I then enter the room, finding the other three scattered around, some groupies sitting on the couch with them. Drummer Lars Ulrich looked up and grinned when he saw me, “The pretty one’s back, huh?” He asked James, who was walking behind me.

“She’s here to collect hot pictures of us again for her lonely nights, aren’t ya?” James chuckle, walking by me with a secret pat to my ass, something the others couldn’t see.

Jason Newsted turned his eyes towards Stan, raising an eyebrow. “And who’s this dude?” He snickered with Lars, meanwhile Kirk Hammett only chuckled a little.

I turn to Stan, sighing when I found him frozen in his spot, eyes wide and hands trembling a little. I clear my throat and gently place a hand on Stan’s back, “This is Stan, he’s my um.. partner.” I introduced him slowly.

I feel a lump in my throat when I feel a pair of eyes staring at me beside me. There’s only one member that isn’t sitting on that couch, and by this time I’m pretty sure I can recognize his gaze, having thoughts about it once too many times before.

Taking deep breaths, I turn to Stan, smiling a little. “Remember, professional. One hundred percent professional.” I say to him, even though I really should be concerning about myself when I say that.

Stan and I then start to take pictures of the guys, Stan focusing on Lars and Kirk while I focus on James and Jason, feeling James’ eyes on me the entire time I take the pictures for Jason first, almost too obvious to avoid. I can hear him sigh every now and then, especially when I kept laughing and telling Jason to put his chin down since he wont stop putting it up.

After awhile, I move on to James, feeling a little nervous for some reason.

While I take the pictures of him, he took a big sip of his beer, making my photography look completely candid. I try to act casual about the way he gaze at me, trying to do my job professionally. He was quiet and easy to deal with, judging from how Stan is struggling with the drummer and guitarist over there.

That’s when he spoke up, “So.. took you damn long enough.” He said.

I look up with a raised eyebrow, “Sorry?”

He chuckle and run a hand through his gorgeous hair, he looked at the others first before continuing, finding them occupied with Stan and the groupies. “It’s been weeks. Have you forgotten about what I told you to do?” He ask, his voice a little lower now.

Clearing my throat, I look away a little. I thought about my answer, looking up to make sure the others are still too busy to notice the proximity between James and I. I shake my head and reach my hand into my bag, “I.. No, I’ve got the—”

“Not here, sweetheart.”

I look up at him with confusion and surprise as my hand pauses, “What do you mean?” I ask slowly, feeling quite unsure of what he mean by that. It’s not like the others will notice it, right?

He look at me with that stupid fucking smirk again that he surely gave to all of the thousand girls he had underneath him before me, “Come with me.” He whisper with a spark of excitement in his voice, “My hotel’s right around the corner.”

My eyes widen and I swallow the lump in my throat, I glance at the others once again. “But they—” James’ hand took my jaw gently and turned my head back towards him.

“They wont give a fuck.” He smirk and took advantage of my statue-like state, taking my hand and grabbing his jacket.

He slowly slip through the room’s door and took me with him, making our way towards the exit. “James!” I whisper-yelled, finding this risky and too obvious. I wouldn’t want Stan to tell anyone that James Hetfield took me back to his hotel room.

“Don’t worry, just a little adventure.” He winked to me.

My mind was racing with thoughts of what’s going on, why he needed to take me out of here, what his plan was. But the fact that it’s just us.. going to his hotel room.. already made me feel like I’m gonna pass out.

He took us into a cab. My hand in his the entire time is something that made me feel so warm and excited, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand.

I look up at him, only to find him completely chilled and looking out the window like this is a regular thing for him to do. Perhaps it is. He probably fucked a girl before the show anyways.

The ride seems to take so long despite him saying the hotel was just around the corner, his hold on my hand seems to tighten while not even gazing my way, my heart seems to explode in any minutes now with how nervous he make me even just by sitting close to him and holding his hand.

When we stop in front of the hotel, he wasted no time with paying the driver and opening the door. Rushing us out and into the big hotel, careful for any lurking fans or paparazzi around us.

It went so fast.

Everything went so fast.

Too fast, perhaps?

Cause even after zoning out just a bit, the next thing I know I was pushed into his hotel room and pinned against the closed door behind me, one of his hand beside my head while the other on my waist.

The position we’re in reminds me too much of when we first met, the same way he pinned me against the door of his dressing room, the way his bigger figure towers over me, his eyes so mesmerizing you won’t even think of looking away.

He was silent, somehow. His face slightly leaning down, close to my neck. I can smell the faint scent of beer from his breath and the cologne he wore mixed with some of his after-show sweat.

My breath hitched when he squeezed my hip and press a kiss on my neck, his beard giving a slight tickle to my skin. I feel the warmth of his tongue gently glide on my skin, dampening a spot on my neck.

Trembling a little, my hands reach up and hold his shoulder, squirming a little as he starts to violate my neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin now.

My soft sighs fills his ear as he focus on marking my neck, licking each freshly marked spot to make them hurt less.

He groaned into my hair, pulling me close and grinding the rock hard bulge on his pants against me, “What took you so long to visit me again, baby? I thought we made a deal..” He grumbled, both his hands on my hips now as he continue his attempts to grind on my body.

I whimper and run a hand through his hair, gripping the strands lightly. “I.. I was busy..” I spoke in a small voice, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Right..” He chuckled, as if he doesn’t believe me.

Suddenly, he hold me still by my waist and lift me up, carrying me all the way to the tidied up hotel bed. “Strip. You’re a big girl, do it yourself.” He commanded, the sternness in his voice surprising me a little. “And give me that.” He grabbed my bag and yanked it away from me.

Knowing better than to disobey him, I sit up on the edge of the bed and slowly begin to discard every piece of fabric that covers my skin away from him. I didn’t know what he was doing with my bag, but I didn’t really care. I feel some sort of trust towards him, strangely enough.

By the time I take off my last piece of clothing, which is my panties, I feel the mattress behind me sinking down as James’ weight joins mine on the bed, his body completely bare as well.

I turn around and find him sitting with his legs spread out, his hard cock standing proudly with precum dripping out of his red swollen tip. He was leaning on the pillows, smirking at me as he hold one of the pictures I printed from our last session in his hand.

Raising an eyebrow with a small blush on both my cheeks, I slowly crawl up the bed and beside him. I watch as he took his cock in one of his big hands, pumping it up and down as he look through the printed pictures.

“Fuck, sweetheart..” He grunted out as he work on himself.

I sat there like an idiot, not knowing what to do. My eyes are completely hallucinated by the sight of his hand gripping and jerking off his cock. He must’ve noticed my eyes, cause then he chuckled and smirk at me. “Like what you’re seeing?”

I watch as he continue to masturbate to the filthy pictures in his hands, I can feel my bare pussy aching at the thought of having him inside me again, pressing my thighs together as I slowly nod, looking almost shameful for it.

He beckoned for me to come closer with his fingers, “Come here, sweet girl.”

Slowly, I start crawling closer, my eyes still intrigued by his cock. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen it in person, nights I’ve spent yearning for it to fill me up, looking at it through the picture of me sucking it wasn’t enough. I needed to feel it in person.

With me taking too long to come closer, he took his hand off his cock and grabbed me by my hips, positioning me with such ease to sit on his mouth, facing the rest of his body. He was manhandling me like I knew he would tonight. How I love feeling those big hands on me.

I gasp when I was introduced to the warmth and wetness of his tongue again, this time licking up and sucking on my aching cunt. I moan with pleasure, “James!” My hand clasped onto my mouth as the absolute lust controlled over me. “F-fuck..!”

His hand grabbed my arm tightly and pulled my hand off my mouth. To my surprise, he led it down towards his twitching cock, leading me to wrap my palm around it and move my hand up and down his shaft. “Keep going..” He murmured.

I can feel his voice and groan vibrate against my pussy as I willingly move my hand up and down him, all while whimpering and squirming on top of his mouth, his tongue won’t stop devouring me, his lips practically making out with my clit.

Heavy breaths are all I can make out with small vulnerable “James..” ’s. We just started yet I already feel like crumbling into pieces right on his magician of a tongue.

Forcing myself to lean forward over his body, I stretch myself enough for my mouth to be able to reach the tip of his cock, sliding it past my lips and into my mouth, causing another groan to vibrate up me from his mouth.

Time seems to stop.

Innocence turns into impurity.

Hesitance turns into addiction.

Admiration turns into obsession.

All that I can ever think of at this moment is how his tongue slides up and down my soaking cunt and diving past the folds, making me lose my mind while I try to continue bobbing my head up and down his girth, almost choking.

But I couldn’t care less if I choke. It felt good. He felt right in my mouth. And suddenly it was my mission to please him as much as he pleased me. To make him addicted to my touches like I am to his.

And it seemed to work.

Cause then he grabbed my hips and pull on my ass even more, pressing me down onto his face as his tongue discover me even deeper. His hands starts travelling up to my chest and grope my breasts and every single flesh he can squeeze, his own hips thrusting up into my mouth.

I pull back from his cock to let out the loudest moan I’ve ever let out in my entire life, coming down from my high right on his cock, feeling him drink all my juices up as if he’s been in Sahara the whole time. “Ah..! Shit..!” I gasp, grinding back and forth on his face before lifting my hips up to let him breathe.

That’s when white streaks of his own cum starts to shoot up to my face, I hear him groan even more as his cock twitches and slowly soften again.

I get off him and take deep breaths as I lightly touch my face, scooping up some of his cum with my finger. I desperately suck on that finger, needing to taste him.

James sat up and gently hold my chin as I suck on the cum on my finger, my eyes look up at him. He groans at the sight and push my finger aside so he can kiss me passionately, holding my face in his hand.

Pulling away, he rest his forehead on mine. “You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confessed, grinning. “Didn’t even fuck a single girl these weeks, waiting for you.”

I hum and sigh, trying to catch my breath as he wipe the rest of his cum off my face using a piece of clothing laying around. “Is.. Is that so?” I ask in pure disbelief. I didn’t even expect him to remember me. Let alone thinking about me and waiting for me all these weeks.

“Yes, you.. you intrigue me, sweetheart.” I close my eyes when the back of his hand caress my cheek, “So I’m just saying..” He grin widely before covering my eyes with his hands, making me smile and giggle. “Picture us.. going around this shitty town tomorrow.. just the two of us. I’ll take you wherever you want.” He press a light kiss on my lips.

With his hands still covering my eyes, I grin and hum, pretending to think about it. “..alright.”

My vision then return when he pull his hand back, smiling widely like a teenager that just asked out his crush. “Alright?” He repeated, to which I chuckle and nod at. “Alright!” He whisper-yelled to himself in celebration.

I laugh softly, who knew James Hetfield was such a dork? But god, just thinking of where this might lead fills my heart with a new emotion. It feels warm, almost comforting, seeing him smile genuinely and not one of those cheesy Hetfield smirks.

When I tried to stand up, he suddenly pull me back down and wrap his arms around me. “I didn’t remember saying we’re done for the night..” He whisper in my ear.

God, this man..

#james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield x you #papa het #metallica #metallica fanfiction #metallica x reader #metallica smut #fanfic #smut #fanfiction

128 notes · View notes

shelbgrey · 2 years ago

Text

Baby on the brain(Derek Shepherd)

Request: @emalynvtgtgfhvgg can you do a Derek Shepherd x YN? Where she’s at work and throws up Bailey runs a test and she’s pregnant plssssss

Paring: Derek Shepherd x reader x Miranda Bailey

Greys MasterList

“we could get Ben to cook some steaks on the grill” I said scrubbing my hands with Bailey next to me. The two of us were trying to plan a get-together with Ben and Derek.

“we could do that, but I think we should pick the movie this time” Bailey said shaking her head. I chuckled remembering the last time we had a movie night and Ben bright the movie Annabelle, me nor Bailey had a fun night. We spent half the night hiding in our husbands arm.

Alex came in next and started to scrub his hands. “What are we talking about?” he asked genuinely curious. I looked over to my best friend and smiled as I tide my checkered scrub cap on my head.

“talking about Ben and Derek terrorizing us with Annabelle”

“mosty we're planning a date... Not that's any of your business” Bailey scoffed but gave him a smile so he knew she was joking. Alex chuckled as he continued to scrub in.

As the two continued to talk I felt my stomach start to turn and the smell of the water running made me sick. I sighed and gripped the edges of the scrubbing sink.

“N/n? You okay?” Bailey placed her hand on my shoulder a rubbed it.

“y/n?” Alex asked.

“I think I'm gonna Hurl” I mumbled holding my hand near my mouth while also trying to steady my breathing. “Yep, definitely gonna hurl”

I sprinted out of the scrubbing room and into the closet bathroom. I ran through the bathroom door and ripped the biggest stall open making it fly backwards and banging up against the one next door.

The noise stung my ears but I was glad it was masking the nauseating sounds of me emptying my sorry excuse of a stomach.

“you wait here” I hear a muffled Bailey tell Alex.

“Y/n are you okay?” Bailey asked from behind as she held my hair back. I let out a breath and rested my damp forehead on my arm. I let out a cough as Bailey backed up so a could set down away from the toilet. I pressed my back up against the cold metal stall as she rubbed my back.

“I'm okay, I'm okay” I whispered as I pulled my scrub cap off my head. Bailey's brown eyes stared at me with concern. She then looked at me up and down as the gears in her head turned.

“what?” I asked.

“could you be pregnant?” she asked. I staired at her for a brief second then burst out laughing which made Alex knock.

“everything okay in there?” he yelled from the other side of the door. We ignored him and Bailey studied my expression with shock and confusion.

“I can't get pregnant” I mumbled. Bailey wrinkled her eye browse with a sad experience. “who said you can't get pregnant?”

I sighed as stood up from the cold floor then hopped onto the counter that was next to the sink. “I was about 16 when they said I couldn't get pregnant...”

Bailey crossed her arms and gave my a look with nothing but sympathy. “dose Derek know?”

I nodded sadly. “we still talk about building a family. We want kids... I think we talk about it a lot to cope with it all”

Bailey sighed but had a spark in her eyes that held nothing but hope. “ya know... Your showing sings, your nauseous, your brests are bigger... Your moody... More than usual. When was your last cycle?”

I looked up and counted the days. The more I counted and did the math, the faster my heart fluttered. I hadn't had my period this month but I thought it was due to stress. I looked at Bailey and covered my mouth.

“I can't be” Bailey smiled and shrugged. “only one way to find out”

Bailey walked over the entrance of the bathroom and opened the door. Alex tumbled forward but cought himself on the door frame. I giggled as Bailey shot him a scowl.

“Karev go get a pregnancy test” Bailey told him. His eyes bugged out then he looked over to me with a big smile.

“Pronto Karev, and don't let anyone see ya either!” Bailey said. Alex quickly dashed out of the bathroom and went on his mission. He came back ten minutes late and handed me a cup.

“okay pee in this” he said handing me the cup. I wasn't phased by his choice of words but Bailey rolled her eyes. “classy Karev, real classy”

Did my business and handed the cup to Alex with the cap on. He held it with a digusted expression. I honestly don't blame him, dispite us being as close as siblings I wouldn't want to hold a cup of his pee.

“I think we're waisting our time” I sighed.

Alex shrugged. “I don't know, it looks like pregnancy pee to me”

Me and Bailey scoffed. “Karev get it the lab!” Bailey said pointing to the door. Alex busted out laughing and left the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“Hey, beautiful” Derek smiled coming up to me in the hallway. I smiled as he put his arm on my shoulder. “hey”

I dropped off my patients chart at the nurse's station then filled out a form to release a patient that was on mine and Owen's service. Derek was leaning on the nurse's station telling me about his surgery when Bailey came up to us with a big smile.

“I need to talk to you” she said pointing to me then turn to Derek. “both of you... If you want” she said looking at me.

I crossed my arms and looked at her trying to put the pieces together on her mood. “depends”

She smiled at me and nodded. I unfold my arms in disbelief. “really?” I smiled as Derek looked between us confused.

She nodded and hugged me. “Wait what are you two up to?” Derek asked. Bailey smiled and told us to come to the Attendings' room.

Once we we're alone a spilled the good news. “I'm pregnant” Derek didn't skip a beat and immediately wrapped his arms around me as nothing but pure happiness plastered on his face.

“I'm so happy” he said burying his face in my neck as happy tears pricked his eyes.

“congrats mama Shepherd” Bailey smiled as I left Derek's arms and hugged her tight. “your the God mother ya known” she smiled proudly and nodded.

“I'm so happy for you guys” she said hugging Derek.

“me too” I said smiling at Derek.

#derek shepherd #Derek shepherd x reader #Derek shepherd imagines #Derek shepherd imagine #Patrick Dempsey #Patrick Dempsey Imagines #Greys anatomy imagines #Greys x reader #Dr. Bailey x reader #Miranda Bailey x reader #Miranda Bailey #Dr. Shepherd #Meredith Grey #greys anatomy headcanons #grey sloan memorial hospital

1K notes · View notes

schizoidcel · 9 months ago

Text

## BOOTHILL x READER ★

🤍 ﹒ HEADCANONS ! ! . .

－ notes ̽ ۪⠀written before his release + gn reader huhu. yall i swear ill get to the lcb requests but im brainrotting too fucking much right now boothill is colonizing my mind so enjoy these thoughts i had and will throw into the tags

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

He's a little spoon and NOBODY can convince me otherwise period.

We know damn well hes touch starved. So ofcourse he'd wanna be nuzzled up inbetween your chest and chin

Will teach you how to ride a horse. He definitely has a favourite (his name is Sebastian 🌚🌚)

Very protective over him though. You will not ride on that horse until you are months into the relationship

He gave you another horse to practice riding on and an extra horse incase the other "knocks your socks off" ... Whatever that means

You named them Yee and Haw and he was so conflicted with his emotions that he considered getting a routine check up on his body

Will tease you if you completely fuck up immediately.

He grabs your hands to gesture on things you should be wary about while being on the back of a horse, knowing it'll mess your brain up and lead you to not pay attention to a single thing coming out of his mouth

On the other hand if you're able to handle it in a short amount of time, he'll start flirting with you

"I'm doing it, Boo!" "Nice work, honeybunch. Think ya can manage ridin' somethin' else?" "Dude"

It's one or the other. You will not escape the Boothill down bad programm

Boothill also acts like a himbo to mess around with you.

On another note, you called him Bootyhill once and he's still shook up. Whether /pos or /neg is up to interpretation

While we're on the topic of nick/pet names, he calls you things you've never heard of before .

Or even if you did, they're things you expected never to be called 😭

What the fuck is a doodlebug Boothill

Type of man to get flustered when you flirt back. He just starts bugging out

Will play it cool though, but the faint blue on his cheeks says otherwise

Also a fan of headpats. No, he's not ashamed. No, he will not tell you.

Expanding on the no shame, Boothill takes it to the extreme

No filter, no mask, no nothing. Touchy EVERYWHERE you go

Even if he can't really feel it, he just feels more at ease when you both are near eachother or touch one another. Man wants to protect his partner, after all

It dosen't matter if you're able to protect yourself, the gesture just makes him feel more comfortable and calm

Also has a hair pulling kink woah. Let's keep it sfw everybody

Forehead kisses ❤️ or just kisses anywhere on his head in general. Kiss behind his ears and he will overheat

He let's you play with his hair<3 It's one of his favourite passtimes with you

Braid it, tie it in a ponytail, give him buns, pigtails, curl them, decorate them with hairpins, clip bows in his strands it don't matter PLAY WITH HIS HAIR ⁉️

He relaxes SO MUCH it's insane. Genuinely just one finger goes into that hair of his and he melts

This plays into the little spoon factor

You'd tease him about it but he takes pride in it 😭

Has a weird obsession with biting. If you complain that it hurts he goes "What, want me to smooch the pain away?" and he does this fuckass face :3 while you're just staring at him dead in the eye (you say yes btw)

If you're ticklish, he's hell for you

Tickles you in the most random times possible.

And you know it's even WORSE with those cold ass metalic hands

You're cuddling? The sides of your torso are not safe. You're currently occupied with an activity involving your hands? Your armpits are not safe either. He's laying on your bare stomache face down? He starts blowing raspberries.

You know damn well he uses the feathers of his hat 😭

Sticks it up your nose to make you sneeze too. Usually to wake you up or some shit

You could have the most volcano eruption alert level 5 sneeze and he'd still say "Aww, ya sneeze like a kitten!"

One last note this man is a whiney loser bottom not sorry

the word ill is in boothill for a reason the way im laying in bed all sweaty ANYway 🌚😵😵😵😵

ૢ་༘࿐ thank you for reading ! Ⳋ᧙

#boothill x reader #bruh #i feel so insane #and normal #normaling #ok wer e done. im out. goodbye hsr community thisll be my only contribution #proof reading and looking at the eidolon i used for the header why nobody draw him with those glasses yet🧐🧐

312 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 1 year ago

Note

Hello hello my lovely Mei!! How’s it going? I am a bit scared to go into my kitchen because I saw a long bug that was really fast and it disappeared somewhere behind a cabinet :/ I’ve come to you for some comfort maybe a little something about this with Bradley or Jake? I hope you’re doing well <33

Bradley's sleeping. The whole reason you're in the kitchen in the first place is because you want to make him breakfast in bed, so waking him seems counterintuitive. But something long and squirmy and crawly just slipped behind one of your cabinets, the one you'd wanted to reach into, and there's no way you're making pancakes with an extra houseguest.

"Brad," You push at his shoulder gently, marveling the way he's face-down in the pillow and somehow still breathing, "Bradley!"

"Mmf?" Comes his rather unsavory reply, muffled as he groans it straight into the pillow.

"There's a bug," You hiss, "In the kitchen. A big one, and I'm scared."

"Okay." He pushes his palms flat against the mattress to lift himself off of it, and you adore the way he muscles through his sleepy state to help you. He barrels down the hallway towards the kitchen with far less coordination than he'd have if he was fully awake, but it doesn't seem to bother him; he's tired, so he'll go after the bug tired, because you need him to. He's not going to make you wait and worry while he scrolls through his phone, and he's not going to get coffee first to wake him up. You need his bug-catching services, sleepiness be damned.

"Where?" He grunts, eyes still struggling to stay open. You point warily at the cabinet it had escaped behind without crossing the threshold into the kitchen itself, merely poised at the doorway watching.

"Got it," He grumbles, taking a spatula from a jar on the counter.

"Oh- Bradley, no!"

"Hm?" He turns to look back at you, spatula in hand, "What, babe?"

"That's for the food," You fret, "The bug's dirty. And- and so is behind the cabinet."

"Okay." He agrees thoughtlessly once more, taking orders like you're his commanding officer, "Can you get me a hanger?"

You retrieve a metal one, so that it can be bent and warped to however he wants to fish the bug out. But his brain isn't functioning that intensively yet, and he merely swipes it behind the cabinet. To his credit, he pushes it out and away from you, but all he does is displace the creature, not capture it.

You let out a mangled sound, something between a gasp and a cry. The bug scuttles away from you at first, but then to your horror, rounds on you, like it knows you're the one who snitched on it.

"Ew- I- Bradley!" You gush, already backing away from the doorway that it's charging. He's finally more awake now, and though you'd have liked to merely set the thing outside, you're not upset when Bradley crunches it with the bottom of his slipper.

He breathes a heavy sigh of relief when it's trapped beneath his foot, and you try to calm your racing heart.

"You okay, honey?" He asks, and you nod disjointedly.

"That was scary," You note, and he hums in agreement.

"He's gone now. I'll clean him up." He grimaces slightly at the mess under his shoe, "Can I have some wipes?"

Bradley doesn't make you move the bug's corpse, just scoops it up into a bleach wipe and scrubs down the floor. You watch with a perpetually nervous expression, even though the threat has been neutralized.

"All gone." Bradley reports, the bleach wipes falling sadly into the garbage can. You nod, gratefully accepting the embrace that he tugs you into, leaning into the kiss that he smushes against your forehead.

"Why were you up so early?" He asks, some of that sleepy fog still thickening his voice.

"I wanted to make you breakfast in bed," You admit, and you feel him chuckle against you.

"Should I go get back in bed?" He asks.

"I think I want you to stay," You fret, holding the end of his too-long sleeve, "But I won't make you cook. You just have to be on bug patrol."

"Bug patrol," He echoes curiously, testing the title on his tongue. He seems to approve, leaning in with a smug smile on his face to peck at your lips, "That's me, honey."

529 notes · View notes

catscidr · 1 year ago

Note

Can I please request Dottore x clingy reader who loves giving him affection thank you! 💕

hell yeah baby that's what i'm TALKIN ABOUT ୧(☉□☉୨ ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, vague mentions of gore includes: gn!reader, dottore, webttore mentionned for like a second wc: 1k

6 minutes.

That was the longest amount of time Dottore had gone without being bugged by your presence. Well, "bugged” was a bit of a strong word- maybe more so inconvenienced by your endless whining for attention. It’s not that he hated it, it was quite the opposite really, but he actually needed to get work done before tomorrow and couldn’t afford to get distracted this time around. You called out after him for the millionth time today, trotting up to his side with an almost puppy-like expression, looking up at him expectantly.

Currently wrist deep in the guts of one of his poor victims, he swallowed down the urge to speak his mind honestly, instead choosing to glance over at you from the corner of his eyes. His glare (unfortunately) did nothing to deter your determination and willpower- with his attention now on you, you flash him a bright smile, wrapping your arms around his torso from his right side.

“Hey, why don’t you take a break?” you ask, tilting your head up to look at him properly. Dottore’s sharp, angular features never failed to make you swoon no matter how many times you looked at his unmasked face. You think it’s a blessing, but he argues that it’s a curse- especially now that you won’t leave him alone, making him pause his work.

“No,” he sighs for the nth time, bringing his attention back to the corpse on the metal table. “I have work to do. Why don’t you go bother Delta instead? He should be filing out some paperwork,” the doctor says, skillfully shrugging you off of him. You shake your head, resting your hands on his forearm to give him the space he needed.

“I don’t want to hang out with him though,” you say with a frown, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Come on, you’ve been working non-stop for ages now. Just a small break! An itty bitty one. Like thirty minutes. You can spare that much, can you?”

The Harbinger stares at the wall with a deadpan expression, weighing his options. On one hand, he could give in, listen to you and take a much needed break. But on the other hand, he could always just... lock you in his office. Not that he would leave you there for long, just enough for him to get this experiment over with. Plus it’s not like you’d be like a dog stuck in a hot car in the middle of summer without any a/c, he had a plush sofa he never used im his office alongside a mini fridge he also never used. The amenities were there for this exact scenario, anyways- so you’d be comfortable while waiting for him to be done. Although, the more he thought about it, the more his body began to feel heavy, exhaustion seeping through his limbs. Dottore grumbles some choice words under his breath and withdraws his arms out from the bloody mess that came from his current experiment and makes his way towards the sink. You follow after him, curious.

“‘Ttore?”

“I give up,” the doctor sighs, his shoulders slumping forward. He turns on the sink and discards his bloody surgical gloves, washing his calloused hands under the cold water to get rid of whatever gunk had gotten on his skin. “What do you want?” he asks in an indecipherable tone. You perk up noticeably, a smile making its way back to your face as you watch him dry his hands and turn around to give you his full attention.

“Just wanna spend time with you, honestly.” you say a little sheepishly. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not hungry.”

“Wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?”

The offer seemed tempting. After spending hours smelling nothing but hospital-grade cleaning supplies, iron and death the doctor wouldn’t say no to a trip outside of his lab- that is to say if he were anyone but the second Harbinger.

Instead, he grabs his mask and lab coat from the coat rack and begins to walk away, making a gesture for you to follow after him. And you do so eagerly, catching up to him fairly quickly considering how long his strides were.

Your footsteps echo in the quiet hallways, the only sound bouncing off the ornate walls of the otherwise cold and barren palace. The both of you reach your destination, Dottore pushing the door open to reveal his (barely used) bedroom. Tossing his coat aside and placing his mask on his nightstand, he loosens his button-down shirt and sits on his bed, looking at you with a raised brow.

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all day?” he asks with the slightest bit of amusement, kicking off his shoes and repositioning himself to lay down on the bed properly. You snap out of it and shake your head, closing the door behind you, jumping in next to him happily. Your bodies fit with one another perfectly, his arms snaking themselves around your waist while you hold him around his shoulders, keeping one free hand to stroke his icy locks. He hums contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut.

“Happy?” he asks, voice muffled from how close his face is to your chest. Your nails gently scratch his scalp, drawing out a soft sigh from the doctor.

“Very,” you say, smile audible in your tone of voice. Dottore simply hums in response, basking in the comfort of the warmth of your body against him. Part of you felt the need to ask him how long he wanted to stay like this knowing that the doctor hated being away from his lab but, feeling a bit selfish, you allow yourself to revel in the small victory that came in the form of finally convincing Dottore to let you have him all to yourself for a portion of his day. The both of you drift off peacefully, knowing perfectly well that you’re going to repeat this dance once more in the morning when the Harbinger has to work.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore fluff #dottore x gn reader

285 notes · View notes

cipheramnesia · 7 months ago

Text

Part 2: The Lonely Extermination of Athena Six

Awhile after Dr. Stevenson left, and after Dr. White's visits were rarely more often than once or twice in a month, Athena began to notice the iron cage. It grew very slowly between the earth and the sky, deep shadow bars tinting narrow strips of the world. The first ones she saw were in the sky, on a day where she could feel the sun inside her room. She felt the slim bands connect to each other overhead.

The small transistor radio at the nurse station had a square of dark bands around it. Dark lines grew from light fixtures and intercom speakers. While she sat with an orderly doing a geometry workbook that Dr. White was supposed to supervise, Athena noticed dark lines on the overhead fluorescent lights. The orderly said it was okay for her to go back to her room and read, so she sat at her desk to re-read a set of old fantasy novels. They were about a prince who was always beset by tragedy and sickness. Now matter how much good he tried to accomplish, he always hurt someone important. In some of the stories he traveled to other versions of his story and met happier versions of himself, or sometimes sadder versions, but mostly happier. Athena thought there were probably happier versions of herself somewhere.

The dark bands grew and crossed and multiplied. The more of the bands she could see, the harder it became for her to find the dancing light. She wasn't supposed to make the light dance anymore since Dr. Stevenson's accident, and the times the orderlies caught her, they stuck a needle in her and she fell asleep right away. That was also okay, but the lights made her happy, so she played with tiny sparks against her wall, too tiny for the camera in her room to see. Except with the dark bands the lights were harder to coax put and she was usually exhausted after trying.

Eventually the grid of darkness covered the sky in its iron cage. She only sometimes saw little dark smears from the radio or people's eyes sometimes. No one else noticed the grid, but she could tell because her thread was less bright and the omnipresent iron bars were visible through the walls and ceiling. She wished she could take them down and so she practiced more and more to control her lights. They were still waiting for her, only a little more out of reach, but she got stronger and reached further every day.

A little while after the grid was in place, Dr. White visited her. He was always very nice, but Athena noticed he didn't listen very much to what she talked about. He seemed to care more about if the orderlies and nurses liked him, but she could tell they didn't anyway. He opened up a box and laid two flat rectangles of woven metal on the table, then pulled his hands away quickly. Athena noticed he always did that.

"Athena, for the next few weeks we're going to try some new games and I think you'll like them very much." He gestured at the smaller, darker screen. "Closers call this a spark buffer, do you know about them?" He kept his arms close to his body, she shook her head for no. "It's okay, not a lot of people do." He gestured at the larger screen, with shiny metal weaving, and some kind of stone under it. "This is possibly a new prototype, and I hope you can help me make sure it works right."

Athena looked blank. "I don't know how... how it works."

"Don't worry," he laughed the fake laugh a little. "All I need is for you to make the dancing lights, and make them touch the buffer."

"The cage makes it hard," she said. "Can we go somewhere out of the cage?"

"Cage? What... I'm not sure what you mean."

Athena just shook her head and Dr. White slotted the new buffer into a small box. He stood up and took several steps back, suggesting Athena begin, so she did.

It was harder than ever before but eventually a flicker of light danced in her palm for an instant. Then there came a spark out of the buffer like a mosquitos into a bug zapper, and her light blinked out. She jerked back her hands as well, feeling a sharp stab of pain at her fingertips.

Dr. White wrote notes and she sucked her fingertips because they hurt. He said "Okay, let's repeat it and then try the other one."

Athena wished Dr. White would go away again.

#parasite heart #girl bites god #long post

128 notes · View notes

agere-fics · 8 months ago

Text

Doctor Papa

dni: k!nk, anti-agere, agepl4y, or ddlg-esque blogs 🍄 this blog is a safe space for age regressors and age dreamers 🍄

pairing: caregiver!papa!bruce banner x regressor!little!reader

characters: uncle thor, bruce banner, reader, mentions of: steve, bucky, sam, and tony stark.

summary: you have to get MRIs done but you're nervous. thank goodness, papa knows how to cheer you up.

word count: 1,751

content warnings: MRIs, hospital gown, reader is written like they're a child's height, no mention of a particular chronic illness, please tell me if i'm missing anything

author's note: tadaa!! all done! this is the most i've written for a one shot! very proud of myself. also, this is inspired by me having to get MRIs done recently ajfhs

♡

Sometimes stuff we've done lots of times can still seem scary; which is annoying because who wants to feel anxious about the same exact thing over and over again?

You have to get these scans done by tomorrow. With every heart of your being, you wished that wasn't true but your previous scans were too old.

UGH!

Luckily, your papa had a trick up his sleeve.

He told you to stay here, in this gigantic, empty, white walled room. It was utterly boring, there were no paintings or statues or anything. Not even toys! Well, okay, you had your Mr. Rainy Day Bear but still... At least there were floor to ceiling windows- OH, and a skylight, too. Those were always nice.

While you waited for Bruce to come back, you watched what went on outside. There was Tony using his latest invention to attempt to lift Uncle Thor’s hammer. Tony still had no idea that it couldn't possibly work! How silly of him.

Bucky, Sam, and Steve stood in a far apart triangle. They were tossing around the Captain America shield like a Frisbee, guffawing, and yelling things that were joyously incomprehensible. It looked like lots of fun. Definitely more fun than MRIs. Maybe, they would let you join in later.

The double doors of the empty room swung open and papa’s humongous green form entered.

“Okayyy, love bug, I've grabbed all the cardboard pieces from recycling that weren't gross.” He grimaced thinking about the black, moldy gunk that spoiled some previously useful parts. He shrunk back down to Bruce Banner size after dumping the cardboard into a large pile. “We should have enough for our little art project.”

“Art project?” You looked at him expectantly. Your eyes were lit up with stars of joy this time, instead of meteor shower anxiety.

The idea was to make a cardboard MRI machine. Having an art project to focus on would comfort and reassure you about the process you would go through tomorrow. If he could make it fun, your anxiety wouldn't be so bad.

“I’ve seen the machine before, papa, I can make the bestest one yet!” You hopped on your toes, giddy with tight, flapping fists.

“I grabbed your sticker books and some paint, too-”

“OH YAY, THANK YOU PAPA, THIS IS SO EXCITING!!”

Mission accomplished. Anxiety gone, replaced with magical cure Art Project™. Bruce smirked to himself.

You laid down on a tall, square cardboard piece. Bruce traced your form with a sharpie as you giggled. Once you had the correct length, you both began cutting a rectangular piece and put that piece on a metal cart with wheels.

Then, you cut out half circle pieces and hot glued them all together until it made one large 4D sphere with a hole in the middle like a donut.

At one point, the glue burned you but Papa Bruce fixed it right up and stopped the booboo pain with a cure-all kiss.

Your cardboard MRI machine may look done to outsiders but it wasn't even close. It was missing the most important part of all: the stickers! There were heart stickers, stickers with dolphins, rainbow stickers, puppy stickers, stickers that had Mr. Hulk and Papa on them, too! There were even stickers of Stevey, Bucky, Iron Man, and Uncle Thor! Papa said for your birthday he'd make stickers with you on them, too.

You also painted squiggles, polka dots, lines, circles, triangles, kitty cats, and zig zags. All of them in your most favoritest color.

“There!” You stood proudly, hands on your hips. “Now, it's very, very pretty, papa.”

Papa gave you a minute and then asked, “Are you ready to practice?”

You blinked and sighed. Defeat warping your mood. “Yeah...”

Papa spun away, put a doctor's coat on, and then turned back, holding a clipboard. “Alright, are you the caregiver for Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

“Yeah, papa.” You lightened up a little bit.

“Papa? No, I'm Doctor Doctor. Who's papa?”

“You're papaaa!” You pointed at him.

“Okay, okay I'm Doctor Papa.” He repeated, “Are you the caregiver of Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

You tilted your chin up and did a faux British accent. “Why, yes, sir. He's feeling very, very bad and needs a scan.”

“Ah, yes, I see that on his chart, Caregiver.” He flipped through the scribbled pages on the clipboard. “Let's have. Mr. Bear lay down on the table with his head on the pillow.” Bruce gestured with his hand.

You laid your stuffie down on the pretend bed, placing Mr. Bear’s head gently on the pillow. You patted his hand for good measure.

Doctor Papa put ear plugs into the bear's ears and placed cushy pink headphones on him. The headphones had cat ears on them. Papa raised his voice a little, “Mr. Rainy Day Bear, what kind of music do you like to listen to?”

“Doctor Papa, Mr. Bear is nonverbal.” you said matter of factly. You raised your pointer finger to the sky. “I’ll answer for him. He likes The Wiggles, Papa- I mean Doctor Papa.”

“Alrighty then, The Wiggles album coming right up.” Bruce pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found the right music. “Wiggles rave?”

You nodded, then kissed the tippity top of Rainy Day’s head. “You'll be okay, Mr. Bear.”

Bruce began to push the cardboard bed into the donut sphere. You took a big, big deep breath in.

“BRRRR BEEEP AGHHHH RRRRR DNNNN-”

That breath was immediately released back into the atmosphere. “PAPAAA!” You clutched your chest, laughing so hard your legs felt weak.

Doctor Papa continued, “DRRRRR EEEEEE EHHHHHH MRRRRRR!”

You were rolling on the floor, tears leaving your eyes. How silly of your papa!

“BRRRRRrrrrrr….” Papa rolled the cardboard bed out of the donut. “How are you feeling Mr. Bear?”

“Papa, he can't hear you!”

Bruce laughed. “Oh, yeah, right.” He removed the headphones and then the earplugs. “How is the fantastic Mr. Bear?”

You lifted Mr. Bear’s paws and had him sign to Bruce, ‘I am okay.’

“Perfect! Let's take a look at your scans here…” Papa turned around and scribbled quickly on the paper. When he faced you again, he showed you the scan. It was a poorly constructed scribble of Mr. Rainy Day Bear with a big, biiiiiiiig, heart right in the middle. “I knew it, Lots-Of-Love-itis.”

You unburied the British accent. “Quite good, sir. Well done, Mr. Bear.” You placed a hulk sticker on his paw and hugged him tightly.

Papa kneeled down and asked, “Do you want to practice with you this time?”

You gave it a thought, looking this way and that. “Hmmm, will you make the funny noises again?”

“BEEEEP BRRR-”

“Not right now, Papa!” You shouted with a smile.

“Oh, during the practice?” He waited for you to finish rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay…” You breathed in, out, in, and out slowly. “Let's practice, Doctor Papa.”

♡

“Big day, lille venn.” Uncle Thor said as he helped tie the back of your hospital gown. He double knotted the strings behind your neck and then the ones by your hip. “There you are. All set.”

You frowned at that, looking at Thor with big, watery eyes. “Not all set.”

“It'll be okay.” His hands (placed on your shoulders) turned you to face him. “Remember your breathing?”

“Mhm.”

“Let's do it together.” He raised his left hand as you did the same. “Climb Yggdrasil, breathe in.”

You traced up your pointer finger.

“Let's sit at the very top, hold your breath.”

You paused at the tip of your finger.

“Slide down the Yggdrasil branches, breathe out.”

You traced down your pointer finger.

Uncle Thor had you repeat that four more times, until the tears dried and the anxiety flowed further away.

“Very good, great job. Let's go see Papa.” He held your hand as he walked you towards the scary room. Worse than the boring room from yesterday.

You turned the corner and there was Papa at the computer. “Hey there! The computer’s prepped and waiting for you, little one.”

You looked at Papa, then Uncle Thor, and then Papa again. “Okay… I'm ready.”

Papa led you to the metal bed. It was rectangular and thin. A sheet was laid out on it so you wouldn't get super cold. There was a thick pillow on the end that had your favorite kitty cat pillowcase on it, which made the corners of your lips turn upwards.

Papa pressed an arrow down bottom next to the donut sphere that brought the bed down to your level. He held your hand as you hopped on and then helped position you onto the center. He guided you through a big, deep breath so that your body was as comfortable on the table as can be instead of tense.

Next came pink headphones with cutesy kitty ears on them and plain boring ear plugs so that your hearing wasn't hurt from the loud noises. Papa already set up your favorite kind of music so when the headphones were placed on you, it was already playing. Bruce furrowed his brow in question, moving his thumb up and down. You replied with a thumbs up. You were ready.

Bruce handed you a panic button to hold just in case and laid a blanket over you to keep you warm. Papa kissed the top of your head and left the room.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

BBRRRRRRR

‘It's okay. I'm okay.’

BEEEEEEPPP

‘Woohoo, I'm doing awesome!’

REEEEHHHHHH

‘This is boring, it's got to have been a bajillion minutes by now.’

After ten years (minutes), the machine stopped and Papa walked back into the room. He gave you a high five and bunches of praises that you only heard some of because of all the ear protectors. But you could tell by his facial expressions that he was so very proud of you.

He pressed the arrow down button again and the bed began moving to an easier height. You removed the headphones and earplugs yourself, you felt like such a big kid (in the best way)!

You stretched this way and that while making funny noises which made you abrupt into hearty giggles.

Bruce held your hand as you jumped down. Next thing you knew, he was hugging you tightly, picking you up, and spinning you around and around!

“I'm so very, very proud of you, bumble bee!”

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa!”

♡

138 notes · View notes

tokiwarcube · 5 months ago

Note

This is gonna be so random, but can we get dethklok headcanons of how they'd react to their s/o being a ghoul/ghoulette in Ghost, please? 😶

Less random than you'd think, actually! This prompt in particular was actually written with a ghoul/ette reader in mind, although it wasn't explicitly stated. I'm actually a huge Ghost fan, myself! Bonus points to anyone who can ID me in the movie, LMAO

I do encourage reading This one for a bit more instrument/element specifics, but regardless, do enjoy!

Nathan Explosion

Despite his fame, Nathan keeps his personal life a secret from the media — or well, as best as he can as one of the most famous men in the world. So in that sense, he kind of admires the anonymity you maintain. Or at least used to maintain, anyways.

He’s gotten sucked into the metal vs. not metal debate, and before seeing you perform, he absolutely lies on the latter half of the debate. But holy shit, talk about stage presence. He’s very proud of where Dethklok stands in a concert sense — seeing Dethklok is truly, a completely unforgettable experience — but Ghost is just… Brutal.

Performance-wise, he likes Year Zero the most — the first time he saw flames erupting over the stage, bathing you in hues of orange and white absolutely took his breath away. Any song where you get to shine is a favorite of his as well.

His favorite song overall is a toss up between Year Zero and Elizabeth, though. He likes the lyrical imagery of both, and really, what metal performer doesn’t have a soft spot for an song about Elizabeth Bathory?

He gets a bit jealous if you’re a little flirty on stage, especially because he can’t just swoop in to make his place clear, but he works through it.

He’s a little obsessed with the Era V outfits — don’t be too surprised if he gets a bit handsy when the mask comes off. Or before.

He fucking hates Plushia with a passion — he is convinced that its cursed, and will not allow him in the house.

Pickles the Drummer

Pickles LOVES Ghost once you introduce him, and not just because you’re in it. The very fun, in-your-face sexuality that comes with rituals is right up his alley, and the musical niche they fall into with regards to genre is just… Listen, he loves the heavy shit, but rock will always have a place in his heart.

Impera enjoyer till the end of his days. His favorite live song is Watcher in the Sky, both for the vibes and for how crazy you’re allowed to be on stage; however, he’s also rather partial to Mary on a Cross, for obvious reasons. It’s not his favorite musically, but he does think that the bit Papa does live is funny as fuck.

Assuming you’re a ghoul with a bit of movement, he likes to hang out with security so he can hit his vape and shotgun you from below. There are MANY videos of this circulating online, and you’ve gotta admit — it’s pretty hot. Sometimes he’ll indulge the rest of the ghouls if they try to jump on the train — he’s not greedy. Also, its funny.

He likes to suggest silly little bits to incorporate into future shows — whether or not they actually get through review is another thing, but he’s got some good ideas. He doesn’t mind if you get a bit flirty on stage either — hell, he thinks it’s hot as fuck, truth be told.

He always steals mummy bucks out of the cannons before they go off. Puts it in a money clip and everything, the bastard.

He thinks the military outfit is hot as hell, but also. You do look like a bug. And he won’t hesitate to rib you about it every now and then.

Misses Cowbell Ghoul every day of his life.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

He loves how camp Ghost is — all of the bits really make the show fun, and he loves that humor is incorporated so well. After catching enough of your Rituals, he starts bugging Nathan to incorporate some sort of spin off the “go fuck yourself” bit, and let me tell you, he’s CLOSE to getting his way.

He absolutely made fun of you when the Era V outfits got revealed… and never stopped. He loves the Era III and IV outfits so much more all around, and will never let them go. (I’m so sure that he’d like it more if he could see past the mask, but he just can’t. Quit staring at him with them big ole eyes!!!)

He still insists on tightening the bolo for you before you go on stage, though. And he secretly saves all of the gifs and videos of you on stage to watch when he misses you. So… maybe the mask does grow on him a little bit, loathe as he is to admit it.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but he 100% develops this weird, pretty one-sided rivalry with Dew. Is it because of the man beneath the mask? Is it some weird lead guitarist thing? Is it because he gets to work with you on stage, and Skwisgaar doesn’t? He’ll never tell you, but either way, he shoots some vile glares his way whenever you two interact on-stage.

There’s one particular video of Dew flashing the “you suck” sticker at him, and Skwis just glaring up a storm in response.

His favorite songs to hear live are either Mummy Dust or Cirice, and he always tries to coax you over to flirt with him a bit… and he’s usually successful He might be in the crowd at barrier, but he’s managed to cement himself as a staple of every ritual. Go figure.

(People online always complain about the giant at barrier though, please convince him to hang with security under the guise of sneaking kisses or something. People are So Sick of his tall ass, even if he does add to the show.)

Toki Wartooth

Ghost ticks so many boxes for Toki, so needless to say, he is ecstatic that you get to work with such a cool act!

His favorite album is a hard tie between Opus Eponymous and Prequelle, funnily enough. The former reminds him of his early days in metal, but he loves the overall vibes of Prequelle — very hard to choose between the two, for him.

After you introduced him to Ghost through your work, he actually delved a bit deeper, and got obsessed with Repugnant. He 100% prods you into prodding Mr. Toblerone Frog into doing more death metal stuff.

He absolutely makes bracelets to trade with fans — getting a bracelet made by Toki quickly becomes as legendary as getting a ghoul pick. Although there’s always exactly one bracelet per show that he makes with one of your spare picks that he hands out to one special person.

He has your ringtone set to If You Have Ghosts :’) He also very much loves the Ghesties bit, and there’s a nonzero chance that he’s changed your contact to be a gh- prefix of some sweet little petname he has for you.

His favorite song is easily Dance Macabre — both live and off the stage! This only doubles after the events of LA.

He saves mummy dust and confetti from every show that you do, and keeps it in his scrapbook.

He thinks the Era V outfit is really cute. You DO look like a bug… but you’re his bug :)

He has been begging for ghoul plushies since he started dating you; although, he is very happy to own a little Plushia. He thinks he’s cute.

William Murderface

Like Nathan, he has also gotten into online debates about whether or not Ghost is metal — except he takes the opposite position of Nathan. Ghost is metal as fuck to him. Listen, you don’t go on stage in front of that many people, make fun of God and everyone who worships him, and come out not being metal. Like the Satanism bit is whatever, but having the balls to go and make fun of that many people on stage? Metal.

He thought the old outfits were really boring, but he is nothing short of obsessed with Era V — for both you and Papa alike. He desperately wants a replica of Papa’s military jacket.

His favorite album overall is probably Infestissumam, but he’s also partial to Opus Eponymous. He’s been begging you to get talk Trickery Feet into getting Idolatrine on the setlist since you got him into Ghost — hell, if he ever gets the motivation to actually record Planet Piss, he’d love to do a cover of it.

Although his favorite songs to see live are probably either Mummy Dust or — after the LA show — Twenties. Twenties slides in very quick as his number one after the LA show.

He gets into arguments online about your characterization in fandom spaces, I’m sorry. He does indeed read fanfic, and he will be leaving “they would not fucking say that” comments.

He likes to banter back and forth at night about what your role would be in the clergy if you know, the whole bit was real. For someone who doesn’t give a fuck about religion, he actually puts a lot of thought into this.

#metalocalypse x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #toki wartooth x reader #pickles the drummer x reader #william murderface x reader #nathan explosion x reader #metalocalypse toki x reader #metalocalypse skwisgaar x reader #dethklok x reader #metalocalypse nathan x reader #metalocalypse pickles x reader

69 notes · View notes

quirkwizard · 6 months ago

Text

There isn't any real reasoning for why I made this. Maybe because I already did something like this with 1-A? I just thought it'd be a fun scenario to imagine where these characters would be if they had real jobs. Instead of ending up in various levels of dead or damaged. I will ignore characters that I think are simply too evil to have any real chances, like Moonfish, or others I just don't think are interesting, like Mange. That and most MLA because they already have real jobs. Them being redeemed would just be them going back to work with ankle bracelets on.

Mustard-Fumigator: If his gas can knock out and poison people that quickly, I imagine that it can kill bugs just as well. And if he comes across any particularly bad bugs, he always has his gun.

Giran-Salesman: I mean, it'd be basically be what he was doing before. Now instead of seeing illegal weaponry, he'll be selling used cars so expensive it should be illegal.

Spinner-Streamer: He can still play games and not leave his house, but now he will hopefully have a more healthy outlet for everything he is going through. He doesn't even need a VTuber set up. He is the goofy model.

Tomura-Waste Management: This allows Tomura to let out his destructive tendencies and can help get rid of a lot of debris and trash that is just laying around. Now instead of leaving a destroy wasted, he can clean up the destroyed waste.

Mr. Compress-Street Mage: Probably the most obvious pick out of everyone on this list. Between his power, his gimmick, and his natural showmanship, it all fits right into this kind of job. He doesn't even need to change his outfit to make it work.

Muscular-Coach: Since he can't be trust in any fighting based sport. I'm not sure if this would be as a gym coach or personal couch, but either way, he is going to take all that sadisms and ideas of conflict and channeling that aggression for other people's benefit.

Kurogiri-Travel Agent: As much as hero may be on the table, I think there would be some optics issues with that. Still he could send people where ever they want to go on vacation with a fraction of the rates. Just as long as they give a way to send them back home.

Dabi-Lead Singer: Specifically something in the metal or rock genre. He's got that perfect mix of voice, look, and angst to fit right into that kind of culture. And considering how many songs are written for people who don't like their dads, he'd have plenty of material for songs.

Toga-Photographer: Toga was the hardest out of all of them. I just went with something that could express herself more healthy, maybe even being a crime scene photographer, and being in a job where stalking someone is considered worthwhile experience for the job.

Twice-Odd Jobs: As much as I want to say tailor for his sick measuring skills, he doesn't really have any definable skills. So having him be around and help people with his dozens of clones seems fitting. That and there is so much comedic potential in them doing odd jobs week to week.

Gigantomachia-Tourist Barge: Instead of demolishing cities, Gigantomachia can use his tough body to show people around normally hazardous areas like oceans or mountains. He can even use the cheers of the people he's carrying as encouragement to boost his power.

Geten-Ice Cream Man: I prefer to think that Geten's abilities would cover ice cream as well. As such, it is only a natural conclusion that he would become an ice cream man. And knowing him, he will fight and train to be the best ice cream man on the planet.

Kuin-Beekeeper: Considering how bad of a spot bees are in, Kuin could do a real service to the community be helping to spread out pollen with her power. And hey, leading a bunch of bees would come naturally to her as a living insect.

Number 6-Motivation Speaker: Forget the amount of social manipulation he did in his own story, I say this job fits because of the amount of spite Number 6 has. It's that spite that allowed him to get going and fulfil his dreams. Now that's inspiring.

Overhaul-Doctor: I've already gone over how useful "Overhaul" would be in medical work and he already has plenty of experience with medicine. Heck, we can even have the other yakuza guys around as nurses and other kinds of assistants. Beside manner may need work.

Stain-Bounty Hunter: I wanted Stain to end up somewhere where he could technically good, like a detective, but a bounty hunter fits way more within his skill set. Plus, there is a lot of comedy potential. Imagine a poster him in the bond office say "Pay your bond or else!"

Gentle and La Brava-Social Media Stars: Basically what they were doing before. Now with hopefully less crime in between videos. Gentle could even spin his whole redemption for more views, telling his sad story in prison and his time trying to rehabilitate himself. Take that as genuinely or facetiously as you want.

58 notes · View notes

beecauseevan · 20 days ago

Text

[Previous Chapter] | [All Chapters] | [Next Chapter]

December 2023

"Home Alone?" Chim says the title like a question he doesn't really want answered, with a not insignificant amount of trepidation.

"What's it about?" Buck asks innocently, fiddling with a pair of craft scissors, the bright pink plastic of the handle a stark contrast against his dark blue uniform pants.

"It's about a boy," Chim explains. "He's home alone."

"He almost murders two burglars," Eddie adds helpfully, because that seems like a pretty crucial detail.

Buck hums. Then, after a few seconds of hopeful silence, he shakes his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Chim groans. There are two stacks of DVDs on the coffee table, the one on the right drastically higher than the other. Home Alone quickly joins the looming tower, another entry in the seemingly endless list of shows and movies you simply have to watch, according to Chim and probably several Buzzfeed articles, unless your name is Evan Buckley and your childhood sucked.

Chim's desperate eyes meet Eddie's. Eddie shrugs. He doesn't even try to hide his smile.

"I don't know what you expected."

Chim sighs, because of Eddie's comment or maybe just the general situation, and turns back to the coffee table to survey the stacks. Though, given that the left one consists of exactly one DVD, stack is probably not the right term.

"How is Die Hard the only Christmas movie you've seen?"

"Maddie made me watch it," Buck replies, opening the scissors and closing them again, cutting the air with cheaply metallic little snipsnipsnips.

"I guess that's my legacy," Chim says morosely, and gets up. "I have more DVDs in my locker. Don't go anywhere."

"Who even uses DVDs in this day and age?" Buck calls after him. "There's this thing called Netflix, old man. You should give it a try."

Chim is still flipping him off when he gets to the stairs and the dimness of the 10 PM app bay swallows him whole.

"What are you doing anyway?" Eddie asks, nodding at the mess Buck has made of his half of the couch. Paper cuttings cover the leather like snow, leftovers from the pile of strange sculptures he's gathered in his lap.

"I'm making snowflakes," Buck informs him. Eddie's levels a—pointed, doubtful—look at one of those sculptures, misshapen and strangely bug-like in nature, and Buck amends, "I'm trying to make snowflakes. I want to make some with Jee, so I looked up, uh, child-friendly crafts, but—this is way more difficult than I thought. And if I can't do it, there's no way a two-year old can do it."

Eddie thinks back to a sunny afternoon in his kitchen, to two very different kinds of heart drawings spread out on his kitchen table. Chris got an A on his sketch. Buck's had a heart-shaped button nose. Jee will probably do just fine.

"Practice makes perfect," Eddie tells him cheerfully, patting his shoulder. "If you keep it up, you're gonna have the fine motor skills of a preschooler in no time."

"Screw you," Buck replies. "I'm holding scissors. I could stab you."

Eddie glances at the scissors, eyes the childproof rounded tip. "Sure."

Before Buck can prove to him just how dangerous those craft scissors can be—and he looks like he's definitely considering it—a shrill ringing interrupts the relative nighttime peace that has settled over the firehouse. DVDs and ugly snowflakes get abandoned, gear equipped and the truck boarded, and just a little over ten minutes later, they're standing on the set of some Hollywood blockbuster Buck probably won't watch either, and for a moment, Eddie forgets to be professional.

"Holy shit."

The set in front of them, a fake street hemmed in by fake brownstone facades, might have looked festive, maybe, at some point, but there's not much left of that now. It's all buried beneath white goo, glittering ominously under the studio lights, more horror flick than Hallmark movie. What looks like the grayscale aftermath of a Slimer attack is the result of a bunch of fake snow machines gone wild, and next to Eddie, Buck has stopped dead in his tracks too.

"Holy shit," he echoes.

Bobby, strutting through the mess with the grace of a former figure skating star, calls for them, and they start moving.

Truth be told, there's not that much they can do here. The machines are already turned off, and there's no fire that needs putting out, no car wrecks, no stuck elevators. They're here because three of the crew members fell unconscious after they came in contact with the goo, but it's probably some type of allergic reaction, so Chim and Hen have it handled. That gives Buck some time to look around, his face painfully open with curiosity and that strange, enviable love for life that comes so naturally to him, and it gives Eddie some time to watch him do it, watch as his eyes, bright and blue, take in the scene.

"Did you know that the largest snowflake ever recorded was 15 inches wide? They found it in Montana, in 1887."

"No," Eddie says honestly, because what the hell. "Nobody who isn't you would know that. And I call bullshit. 15 inches? Come on."

"I didn't come up with it," Buck tells him. "Otherwise I'd have a Nobel prize."

"They give out Nobel prizes for that?"

"They should," Buck says, and at Eddie's dubious look, he quickly continues. "Snow is fun, Eddie. People like snow."

"I don't like snow," Eddie replies. It gets below freezing in El Paso, but usually only at night, and even then it rarely snows. He doesn't miss much about Texas but he does miss that. Then again, Southern California isn't that different. Which may or may not be why he picked Los Angeles over Chicago.

"Snow is beautiful," Buck argues. "Magical, festive—"

"Cold, slippery, dangerous—"

"Come on."

Eddie spreads his arms, look around, and Buck does, but only so he can look back at Eddie and roll his eyes.

"That's not snow," he says, kicking his foot as if to prove a point. He sends a clump of goo flying in Bobby's general direction, and Bobby glances over his shoulder to give them a long-suffering look.

"Snow is snow," Eddie says, just to be contrary.

"One day I'll show you," Buck decides. "I'll take you to Hershey. Then you'll see."

"Sure, Buck," Eddie says. "Sure."

December 2024

At the time he'd laughed it off, but now, a year later, Eddie understands that suggestion for the invitation it was. Buck invited him to spend Christmas in Hershey—his hometown, where his parents live. That feels significant, somehow, even though it probably wasn't meant to be. Buck was probably just joking, probably didn't mean anything by it, just wanted to introduce Eddie to the dubious wonder that is a snowy winter. Even now, a year later, it's a ridiculous suggestion. Eddie doesn't even like visiting his own parents over the holidays, and he doesn't dislike them nearly as much as he sometimes hates Buck's.

It's a ridiculous idea, but if Buck brought it up now, a year later, Eddie would say yes in an instant.

Because now, a year later, Buck's smile has faded. His skin is pallid and bruised, his large frame looks strangely small. A hospital gown will do that to you, Eddie thinks, as he stares at the wires, the tubes, all those foreign objects attached to his best friend's too-still body.

What a difference a year can make.

Written for the @911countdowntochristmas - this was supposed to be 24 drabbles but the Buddie NDE speculation going around pre 8x08 inspired me and now it's a 24-mini-chaptered fic instead. And definitely more hurt/comfort than fluff. Oops.

[Previous Chapter] | [All Chapters] | [Next Chapter]

#911 countdown to christmas #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie fics #buddie 911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #mine #911 spoilers

33 notes · View notes