#Scream & Shout | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nyxxxatnite · 2 months ago

Note

Part 2 for poison??? Where he goes back to reader for another hook up but this time he needs to be close to her. Like legs wrapped around him and her hands in his hair while he practically latches himself onto you. Smut smut smut. He secretly really likes her but doesn’t want anyone to know yk keeping up with his asshole facade

antidote (poison pt2)

Plot: last time should have been the last time, just like he said. But when he comes crawling back, needier than ever you can’t help but come back pt.1

Pairings: asshole!Wally Clark x loner!fem!reader, alive!wally x alive!reader

warning(s): the obvious SMUT!, fluffy end, wally actually ends up being nice and in love? Characters are 18!!! Unprotected sex (WRAP IT), public sex!! Creampie!! Fucking POORLY written. NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: HI GUYS. okay so ik its been a minute 💀 im sorry i usually pump these out and get serious writers block but im TRYING. okay i also know you said to keep him an asshole but i NEEDED fluff!! Enjoy!

Finding yourself at the schools Friday night football game was NOT on your agenda, but you couldn’t help it. You felt drawn in and one of your newer friends BEGGED you to go with her so you did, reluctantly. The stands were PACKED with parents, siblings and other family members along with almost ALL of your classmates. Had football really been THIS popular?

you gave a low groan as you ducked and weaved through the crowd, trying not to get hit or bumped into. It wasn’t working out very well. Small sorry’s left your mouth as you finally wormed your way into your seat next to Julie, who was already teeming with energy.

“ i’m so excited. Monrovia has ALWAYS been a tougher team to beat, hopefully this year with Wally we can beat them. ”

At the mention of his name you tensed, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in what seemed like months (more so a week or two). A part of you, deep down ached for him, while the other part tried to keep you reasoned that he was the one that ended everything, he wanted nothing to do with you. And yet…somehow it felt like he still wanted you. None of the athletics (cheerleaders and football players) even stopped to say anything to you, or tease you about something so small. They just went on their merry way. Had he said something to them?

“ uh hello? Did you hear me? Wally’s looking at you! "

a small shake to your shoulders finally snapped you from your thoughts as your eyes moved to finally make eye contact with said football player. He was finally on the field after their introduction and was staring right at you from his huddle with his team. Once the both of you made eye contact he quickly looked away and popped his helmet on.

you shook your head, blinking yourself back to reality. What was his deal? The buzzers from the score board sounded, commencing the start of the first quarter of the game. The crowd around you buzzed to life in cheers as the boys got into formation after the coin toss, cementing that Monrovia would be starting with the ball. The first kick off was a strong one, sending the ball soaring to the back of the split river formation.

and like that the game set off into a very close, neck to neck game. One team would score and then the other would quickly swoop in and tie with their own touchdown. Everyone around you was on edge, Julie was screaming chants with the student section, making fun of the team and the other student section. You just sat quiet and cheered quietly when your team would score, trying not to burn in embarrassment. But slowly got into the energy of it all, starting to cheer in the last quarter of the game.

within the last few seconds of the game you shot up from your seat, cupping your hands around your mouth as you shouted.

“ GET THAT BALL TO THE END ZONE, WALLY! ”

His attention turned to you for only a second before something inside him amped up, making him sprint and dodge around the other team a bit faster. within the last second his feet finally landed in the end zone, signifying that they had scored the winning points and FINALLY got their hands on the win over Monrovia after years of losing. Loud screams and cheers erupted from the stands around you, the band immediately kicked in with their anthem as the team on the field flocked the quarter back in the end zone.

loud whoops and chants sounded from the boys as they hopped and shook with Wally in their arms, the other team standing dejectedly to the side, feeling the stab of loss from years of winning. You cheered loudly with your classmates, laughing happily as your friend latched onto you.

“ its like he HEARD you! You’re a fucking lucky charm! ”

she squealed happily and shook you, excitement bubbling from her as she darted off to some of her other friends to talk to them. Your attention finally turned back to the football team, seeing the ever happy Wally grinning and congratulating his teammates. His eyes then turned to you, a smirk playing at his lips as he sent you a wink. Butterflies seemed to spring from nowhere in your stomach at the motion, turning to look and see if he was sending it to anyone else, but no one else was paying any attention to the team. You looked back at him again and watched him mouth “stay after”, seeming to mean after the stadium cleared out.

After about an hour of waiting, almost everyone was cleared out of the stadium, lights beginning to shut off. You slowly started to lose hope he’d actually come talk to you, or even if he was still there. You carefully tossed your hood up as it started to drizzle, then pour. You sighed and turned, starting to walk toward the gates when a loud whistle echoed from the dressing rooms. Your head snapped to the source, seeing Wally walk out of the building. He was in his after game attire, hair in messy curls atop his head from the sweat and rain finally hitting his head.

you paused and crossed your arms, trying to keep up your “i hate you” mindset. But seeing him there after weeks made your knees feel like jello. What the fuck was going on in your head?! You tilted your head and watched as he got closer, making you step back

“ didn’t think you’d come to a game. But then i saw you in the stands, dressed in the schools colors with MY number of all numbers painted on your cheek. ”

you scoffed as he finally stopped before you, rolling your eyes as you looked away from him. She painted his number on your cheek? Did she know about you two hooking up or was this one of her dumb “he’s cute” things.

“ yeah, i didn’t paint this on, Julie did. Like hell id risk getting made fun of just to wear your number, Clark. "

He hissed in fake pain as you snapped at him, scrunching his face a bit to add to it. He chuckled and without a word tugged you close but your waist. You gasped in surprise as your chest collided with his, feeling the clothing start to get soaked from the heavy rain. What the hell was he doing?

“ you should wear it more often. Fuck all the time actually. Look..i was a fucking dumbass for pushing you away. Not being able to be near you drove me mad and made me realize some shit that i didn’t want to face. ”

your eyes widened as you realized he was about to confess his feelings. Were you even ready for that? Before he could even say another word you pushed yourself up and kissed him roughly, cupping the back of his head as you tried to keep him from saying anything. A small grunt sounded from the other as he immediately held onto your waist, keeping you close to his body.

the kiss started heated and just continued to stay that way, tongues meshing together in the middle as hands wondered each others bodys. And with hands wandering, came clothes starting to be removed. Were you about to fuck on the football field? You couldn’t really care less, you just needed him now. Moving yourself down onto the soaking grass, you felt him moved between your legs and carefully slip a hand between the two of you.

a small gasp leaves your mouth as he rubs at your clit for a moment, letting you get adjusted and wet enough for him to slip his fingers into your soaking center. Your eyes rolled back a bit from the stretch of his long fingers. Thank fuck for this lanky man, being blessed EVERYWHERE. small moans slipped from your lips as he pumped and curled his fingers in and out of you. Getting you nice and stretched was something he’s never done so it was a nice little change, it made your heart flutter in an odd way?

after a few minutes of prepping you he pulled his fingers out and used whatever wetness he had to lube himself just enough to carefully slip into your awaiting cunt, his eyes rolling back at the hug of your walls. Another gasp came from your throat as he slid inside of you, your hands clambering to grip onto his back to have some sort of tether to earth. He grunted and held still for a second, kissing along your neck and throat, arms winding around your middle to keep you close to him.

As much as your mind was SCREAMING at you to get the hell off the ground, you felt like you were in heaven. Especially when he started to finally fuck his cock in and out of your hot cunt. Moans and groans intertwined from the two of you as you fucked on the football field, rain poured around the two of you, drowning out your sounds so only the two of you could hear. You made an attempt to open your eyes, only to be met with Wally already looking at you. You whimpered softly and drew your eyebrows together, keeping eye contact as you moaned louder. Watching his face morph with pleasure at your sounds, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.

He carefully reached between the two of you, rubbing at your clit as he continued to pound into you. The knot in your stomach starting to tighten, feeling it start to verge on snapping. Your eyes rolled back a bit as it all began to be too much for you to even handle.

“ thats it baby, cum for me. Fuck, please cum. ”

he groaned out and placed his forehead to yours, feeling himself near his end as well. With a few final snaps into you, he was releasing everything he had into your awaiting cunt. And once you felt his load fill you, you threw your head back into the ground and cried out as you came not to far behind him. He kept his hips rocking, just to ride out your highs before slowly pulling out of you. He pushed himself up a bit and panted, looking at the absolute mess you were below him making him give a breathy chuckle.

“ we should probably hit the showers, babe. Were an absolute mess. ”

you slowly nodded your head, the after sex high still buzzing in your brain. You let him do what he needed, meaning letting him carry your naked form into the locker rooms to wash the both of you off. It was absolute silence as you stood under the water, somehow more awkward than the times before. Was it because of what he was going to say?

after washing off, you held the towel you were offered tight to your body. Finally registering that your clothes were out on the field still, ruined by the rain and the mud. But it was like Wally read your mind, carefully pulling out some extra clothes he had stuff away in his locker. You tugged on the sweat pants and the hoodie he offered you, humming softly at the warmth of them. He tugged on his own pair of sweats and a tank top, slowly turning to you as he shrugged on his letterman.

“ look…i..fuck. Okay so..i really like you. And i know saying that doesn’t really make up for how i treated you, but it just happened. I realized it when we fucked in the supply closet. And i understand if you don’t feel the same, i just really wanted to tell you. ”

you threw your hand up and covered his mouth to keep him from sputtering on anymore than he was, watching his cheeks and ears go red from embarrassment. You gave a soft giggle as you stared up at him, tilting your head a bit.

“ i like you too dumbass. As much as i hate that i fell for you, i did. ”

he visibly relaxed and moved your hand, tugging you closer as he carefully kissed you. This time keeping it gentle, full of passion. You could really get used to this sweet side Wally had hid away.

#milo manheim #milo manheim smut #wally clark x reader smut #wally clark smut #wally clark x reader #wally clark #school spirits

583 notes · View notes

lifelaughloveharrystyles · 1 year ago

Text

Ross Lynch: givemewhatuwant

*on tour with the driver era 2024*

“Y/N do you know where we are at?” Garrison calls from the back of the bus with all the boys.

The Driver Era has been on tour for about a month now, traveling all over the east coast showcasing their phenomenal songs that they made from scratch. I had the amazing opportunity to come on the tour as one of the equipment managers. This has been my biggest dream in my career, working at “The Doors Rock Shop”. It’s a well known instrument company in Atlanta Georgia where people would go to get a guitar and a crystal at the same time. I got this amazing job with touring The Driver Era with my cousin Poppy who is with us on tour as one of the tour photographers.

“Y/N!” Ryland shouts from the back. I look outside to see we are about to arrive to the venue in Asheville North Carolina. “we are about to pull up to the venue guys!” I said looking to the back of the bus and I see Ross in the hall with just pajamas pants on. “Word! i’m ready to stretch my legs and get out and move.” Ross said stretching his arms looking like he just woke up from a nap.

Ross and I have gotten really close on this tour. i’m normally not on their bus, i travel in a large van behind the bus with the crew. We haven’t stopped talking to each other whether it’s in person while im helping carry his beautiful gibson to him when he goes in for his solos or text. We make these jokes everytime I have to give his guitar to him in a show and I always make a bet with him about how many girls will scream “take your shirt off!”. Secretly I was jealous I couldn’t be those beautiful girls making him smile and shake his hips like that and pleading to take his shirt off for me. Having him as a friend is the best, I just know he could never like me that way. I’m his equipment manager, I lift speakers and drums for a living and he’s a fucking rockstar sex god. I mean look at his recent ex. like how can I compare to Jaz Sinclair. I have to be just a friend to protect myself from that energy.

Everyone ends up scattering across the venue to start their projects for the day. The show starts at 8 so I scramble around to the strings van to transfer the instruments to their spots on the stage so the boys can start soundchecking and tuning their guitars to the songs.

“Y/N why is it you’re always the one carrying the most stuff in the building when Greg is suppose to do that because of your knee.” Riker says from the green room where I walked in with a coffee for myself and him. “Riker i’m telling you Greg is so fucking slow I can’t bear watching him take 45 minutes to set up a guitar stand. I gotta get the shit done so I can actually enjoy myself for the day.” I express to him and i’m frazzled pinging from one corner of the stage to the other figuring out all the wires and amps so they can start their sound check.

“Y/N take a deep breath or a certain someone is going to come in here and see this and raise hell.” Riker laughed as he secretly points in the direction of Ross and Rocky’s green room. I roll my eyes and wave him off not believing a word he said.

Riker thinks he’s slick with trying to hook me up with Ross ever since we started the tour. i’ve seen the small hints of asking ross to come to me when he can’t find the setlist or where his extra picks are. Riker is basically our tour mom, he is making everyone smoothies and making sure everyone is hydrated before every show. Besides Ross, me and Riker have been attached to the hip.

“Shut up Riker before I grab a pair of scissors and cut your bass strings” I jokingly threaten him with a huge smile on my face.

“Oh God Riker what did you do to piss Y/N off again?” Ross said coming out of the side stage with a vintage baseball cap that says “i’m a local celebrity” with a white tee and baggy light washed denim pants. he slings his arm over my shoulder making us sway to the random song playing on the speakers. I look up to see him already looking down at me with that infamous smile he wears. “Nice Hat pretty boy.” i laughed and flicked the bill of the hat. “So which songs are we playing tonight? any newbies?” I smile back at him really hoping he’ll play one of my favorite songs at the show tonight. “Yes Y/N we are playing givemewhatuwant and Natural if that’s what you’re asking.” he chuckles and pulls away from me to pick up his guitar to start sound checking. I squeal and jump off the stage and start jogging to the doors to get the rest of the equipment “YES ROSS YOURE THE BEST” I scream at him and blow him a friendly kiss as I run out the door.

*Ross’ POV*

Y/N is the most precious and loving human I have ever met. she just brightens the room when she walks in. Whether it’s her bubbly personality or just her energy she radiates, it’s one of the reasons why I love having her close by. She makes me feel like life is worth living again. Heartbreak after heartbreak, I felt like love isn’t an option for me anymore. I have thousands of people falling at my feet but it never fills the void of feeling unloved. Hookups and one night stands can only do so much to the point even sex isn’t appealing to you anymore. Ever since Y/N walked into my life, it’s has taken a complete 180. I feel lighter. happier. I wake up excited for the day knowing I get to see and talk to the most beautiful woman I have ever met. She doesn’t compare to any girl I have ever been with or even seen. Befriending her was my first hit in the game and i’m ready for the home run. I want her to be mine. I need her to be my girl. I feel like I can’t live life without her by my side. she completes me in a way I have never felt before. I’m worried i’ll scare her away if I confess what i’ve been feeling inside. I just need to rip the bandaid and just go for it, be a man and express this to this wonderful girl.

*10 minutes before showtime*

*Y/N POV*

“what’s our bet tonight Ross?” I ask him walking up to the band. I just finished helping set up the stage for The Driver Era after Valé’s performance. She did amazing as she does every night. Tonight however the energy feels a bit off. Ross looks like he’s in his head about something and I just don’t know what. Everything went smoothly today and the crowd already has such a good vibe for the night, there’s nothing else to worry about. “Ross? You good?” I asked while rubbing his arm while he looks off in the distance.

“Yeah i’m good, just in my head a bit. Nothing to worry about, probably stage fright.” he has a fake smile plastered on his face to try and not worry me. I know him better than anyone that he is in his head about something and it’s definitely not stage fright.

“Do you need to talk before you go on? you are not good. you can try and fake smile at me but you know it’s not going to work. What’s going on in that head of yours?” I step forward to see his full face instead of the side and look up in those beautiful hazel brown eyes he adorns on his face. he sighs loudly and closes his eyes before opening them he says. “Y/N there’s been a lot of shit going on in my life and ever since I met you, it seems like everything disappeared when you walked in the room. You make me so happy and giddy to the point I get antsy when I don’t see you first thing in the morning. You light up my life and I know we only have known each other for a month but I feel it. My God I hope you feel it too so I don’t feel like the biggest idiot before this sold out show. I like you Y/N, I don’t want to wake up without you by my side. Please tell me you feel the same.” he pleads and grabs

my face in his hands and put his forehead to mine.

“Just shut up and kiss me Ross. I’ve been waiting way too long for you to say those words. I just need your lips on mine before you-“ he slams his lips on mine before I could sentence my sentence. I wrap my arms around his neck melting in his arms loving every second of this moment.

“Ross let’s go! you’ll have plenty of time to make out with Y/N after the show, come on!” Rocky shouts from the side stage making us break away from our heavy kiss. I smile and push him towards his brother. “Lucky for you i’m going to be in the pit with Poppy helping her take photos. I promise to get the best angles, I might sneak a couple just for my entertainment.” I smirk and he laughs and kisses my cheek and runs on stage right on his cue.

The boys are rocking out and came out full throttle. I’ve been helping poppy this show because one of the extra photographers called out and couldn’t make it. I can already feel the energy in this knowing it’s gonna be a great night. “ Y/N why has Ross been staring and smirking at you all night? Did he finally have the balls to do it?” She smirks at me side glancing to the stage. I look up and sure enough he’s staring at me with hooded eyes with his hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. He squats down to my level and curls his finger for me to come closer. I take a step towards him and he whispers “you are making it incredibly hard for me to stop this show and take you backstage to have my girl strip that skirt off so I can fuck that beautiful pussy.” he kisses my earlobe and pulls away before I could even react. my jaw drops and I step back and look at poppy and she’s busting out laughing at my reactions and hugs me and squeals in excitement. She always said from day one that Ross will end up falling over me. I brushed it out because of stupidity and insecurities. Now i’m like ‘fuck she’s right…. again’.

“That man is already planning the wedding in his brain and he hasn’t even gotten in your pants yet. I saw the kiss when I was setting up. “ She says while snapping pictures of the band while they play “Natural”. I get excited and dance and sing along. I decide to tease ross a bit, i shake my hips to the beat and drag my palms up my stomach making my shirt ride up a bit. He notices and bites his lip and tilts his hat down and looks at me with sultry eyes. I wink at him and flick him off. he smirks and proceeds to perform the rest of the song.

The show finally ended and the boys are celebrating in the green room with a couple of drinks. I finished my job for the night when I start searching for Ross to actually start my night. I feel hands wrap around my middle and I instantly melt when I smell fresh body wash and sandalwood. “Let’s go to the bus, I promise to keep my hands to myself” Ross mumbles kissing my neck with his hands roaming my hips pulling me closer to his warmth. I chuckle and turn my head to see his face and tease his lips with mine before I dart towards the direction of the bus. I hear his laughs behind me when I get up to the door to the bus.

he meets me inside and starts teasing my neck again guiding me to the back of the bus. He closes the sliding door and locks it in place. I arch my neck towards him in a way to let him know I want his lips on me. He starts sucking on my neck behind my ear. he kisses all the way to my lips and he slams his lips on mine. I moan and run my fingers through his hair and tug at the ends. He groans in my mouth and starts unzipping my corset like top. I gasp when I feel the cold air on my bare back. The shirts comes loose from my body and falls at our feet. “Beautiful” He whispers to himself when he see my breasts in full exposure. He starts peppering kisses all over my breasts and he cups his lips around my nipple and start sucking to drive me wild. I moan a sound that has never escaped from me before and I tug his face up to mine “Just fuck me already Ross. I need you so bad. Feel how wet I am” I whimper grabbing his hand and pressing it to my core. he rubs his fingertips against the sensitive nub and I moan loudly biting my lip. He shrugs his pants off and throws his shirt somewhere while I undress myself as fast as I can. “I wanted this to be slow and make this moment last as long as possible but I can’t bear anything anymore. I need to be inside you baby.” Ross said as he slips on a condom with a groan. He pushes the tip towards my entrance and I close my eyes waiting for the first push. “Look at me Y/N. I need to see your face” he pleads. I open my eyes the same time he enters me and I gasp at the size of him. He slowly thrusts in and out letting me get used to his size.

“Faster Baby. Fuck you feel so good” I scream as his pace picks up. he grabs my leg and throws it over his left shoulder slamming his hips into the back of my thighs. He presses a hand against my stomach and I moan feeling him deeper inside of me. “Fuck baby I can feel it. My god your pussy is perfect. You’re so tight, you were made for me” He groans fucking me harder making me slam a hand on the window beside me. “Ross i’m so close. please let me cum. fuck baby” I moan in his ear and drag my nails down his back. “Yes baby. Let go for me. Cum all over my cock. Make a mess of me. “ he slams his hips into mine as we both hit our climax at the same time. he thrusts slowly while we come from our highs. I breathe heavily and rest my head on the armrest of couch. Ross slowly lays his head on my breast letting some of his weight fall on me. I run my hand through his hair and just smile wanting this moment to never end.

“Whatcha thinking about beautiful?” he asked slowly pulling out making me wince. “Just realizing how did I get this lucky? I don’t deserve you.” my eyes start tearing up looking at his eyes and studying all of his features. “You don’t deserve me? You got it all wrong baby. You are the most beautiful human I have ever laid my eyes on. We are meant to be here in this moment for a reason and I know down the road we will look back at this time and just laugh and smile about all these memories we have made together. I want to make memories with you forever Y/N. l- I love you so fucking much I can’t hold it in anymore.” He rambles sitting up on the L shaped couch and pulling me to his chest. I breathe in his scent and close my eyes. “Ross, I love you so much it makes it hard for me to breathe. I’ll love you to the day I die.” I look up at him and he slams his lips on mine putting a hand over my heart to feel the thumps of my rapid heartbeat. Our lips move and he slips his tongue in and our tongues dance along together lazily.

We finally had the energy to get up after 30 minutes of lazy kisses and just appreciating the moment we just shared. Everyone comes back to the bus after the celebratory shots.

“So where did both of you guys run off too earlier?” Garrison asked slipping on a hoodie and a crochet bucket hat I made for him in Wisconsin. “I don’t kiss and tell but it was definitely fun for sure.” Ross winks and pulls me to sit on his lap.

“They fucked in the back of the bus. there’s a hand print on the window to prove it.” Ryland said smirking into his tequila soda. I roll my eyes and tap the bottom of his cup to make it spill all over his neck and shirt. “Y/N what the fuck dude!” he shouts snatching napkins from Riker. I laugh so hard I snort and then that makes everyone in the bus have a laughing fit. I lean my head back on ross’ shoulder and he kisses the top of my head whispering “I love you” in my ear. my eyes start drooping and I fall asleep on the love of my life and already can’t wait to wake up to experience this life with him.

#ross lynch #ross lynch imagines #ross lynch x reader #the driver era #x reader #rocky lynch #imagine #oneshot #ross lynch oneshot #fanfic #rosslynchxreader #concert one shot #ross lynch fanfic

433 notes · View notes

freakycore · 4 months ago

Text

🎧 now playing: rockstar reverie

rockstar!gojo satoru x fem!reader ₊˚ෆ

a last minute crisis when their vocalist bails right before a gig forces geto to call in a replacement: you, who wins over the crowd and leaves gojo questioning everything he knew.

an. i listen to song, song make brain go brr, brr hyper fixated, hyper fixates make hand go tap, i was then shot 67 times.

the backstage area of the dimly lit venue was pure chaos. wires snaked across the floor, roadies shouted over each other, and the dull thrum of the crowd filtered through the walls like a heartbeat. gojo paced back and forth, his guitar slung low on his hips, muttering complaints to no one in particular.

“this is a disaster. we’re about to go on and we don’t even have a vocalist!” he raked a hand through his perfectly styled hair, shooting an annoyed look at geto. “why would he ditch us like this?! of all day..”

“relax,” geto pressed, leaning casually against an amp. his drumsticks twirled effortlessly in his fingers. “I called someone.”

gojo’s eyebrows shot up. “you called someone? who? and why am I hearing about this now?”

shoko, perched on a nearby stool with a cigarette dangling from her lips, blew out a lazy puff of smoke. “if they suck, we’ll blame you, geto.”

before anyone could respond, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the hall. the door swung open and in walked the last-minute savior: you. leather jacket, bold eyeliner, an aura of confidence that seemed to suck all the air out of the room. your mic dangle from one hand, slung casually over your shoulder as you surveyed the band with a sharp assessing gaze. for a moment, the chaos of the room seemed to pause.

gojo froze. his blue eyes flicked over you, taming in every detail: the curve of your smile, the way your hair framed your face, and the unapologetic way you carried yourself. he quickly masked his reaction with a smirk. “oh great. we’re save. a karaoke star.”

you didn’t even flinch. “nice to meet you too, rockstar.” your tone dripped with sarcasm, and geto’s lips twitched in amusement.

“alright,” you said, flipping through the song setlist geto handed you. you scanned it for barely a minute, nodding with a confident, “got it”

gojo’s jaw dropped. “got it? you barely even looked at it! are you kidding me? we have a reputation to uphold and you think you can just wing it?”

you shot him a look. “guess we’ll see.”

shoko chuckled softly, stubbing out her cigarette. “this should be interesting.”

the stage lights dimmed, casting the venue in shadow. the crowd murmured with confusion as you stepped onto the stage with the band. whispers rippled through the audience like a wave, questioning who you are. you gripped the mic stand, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. then the first note poured out of you.

the venue fell silent

THIS GUY STINKS!!!! lmfaoooooio

your voice was rich, powerful, and hauntingly beautiful, weaving through the air like magic. as the song built, the crowd’s energy shifted from skepticism to awe. they leaned in, captivated by every note. by the chorus they were screaming along, completely won over by your presence.

gojo, meanwhile, was struggling. not with his guitar (he could play that in his sleep) but with keeping his focus. his eyes kept drifting to you. the way you moved, the way you commanded the stage like you owned it. you were electric, magnetic, and he was completely thrown off.

then came the moment that broke him. in the middle of the second verse, you grabbed a water bottle, twisted off the cap, and poured it over yourself. the crowd erupted. the stage lights caught the droplets on your skin, making you shimmer like a living flame.

gojo’s fingers slipped on the fretboard, and he hit the wrong note. he cursed under his breath, but he couldnt tear his eyes away.

the final chorus was a crescendo of sound and emotion. you leaned into the mic, your voice raw and mesmerizing, leaving the audience in a frenzy.

when the song ended, the venue exploded in cheers. fans chanted for more, their voices echoing off the walls. you flashed a sly smile, waved, and walked off stage, leaving the band to soak in applause.

backstage, the energy was electric. geto clapped you on the back. “told you she’d handle it.”

shoko smirked, lighting another cigarette. “that was lowkey hot”

gojo stormed over, his usual cocky smirk replaced with something more serious. his blue eyes were sharp, searching your face for… something. “okay, fine. you were good.”

you raised an eyebrow. “good?”

he crossed his arms, leaning in slightly. “yeah. but dont get cocky. this is my band, and we have a reputation to—“

you cut him off with a sharp laugh. “your band? looked like you were the one messing up, rockstar.”

geto stifled a laugh, and shoko outright snorted. gojo opened his mouth to retaliate but closed it again, completely at loss. you gave him a wink and sauntered off, your boots echoing against the floor as you disappeared down the hall.

as he watched you walk away, one thought echoed in his mind:

he needs her.

138 notes · View notes

oldiesstationlover11607 · 4 months ago

Note

hey, could you write a pencey prep!frank x girly!reader oneshot? i feel like their dynamic would be so cute

Gigs - Pencey Prep!Frank Iero x Girly!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1264

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've got a lot going on atm haha. I love Pencey era Frank so much tho, he's so cute and such a baby hehehe

I was never one to go to local gigs–which was why it was weird to have found myself in a small, sweaty, moist basement in Belleville, New Jersey. Frank had managed to drag me out to one of his gigs with Pencey, something I’d sworn I’d never do. I loved Frank and he was great but when it came to our choices in music (and aesthetics) we definitely were different people.

The basement smelled like stale beer, damp concrete, and a faint metallic tang from the ancient pipes snaking across the ceiling. People were packed tightly, shoulder to shoulder, dressed in a range of outfits that could only collectively be described as alternative–faded band tees, ripped jeans, studded belts, and more eyeliner than I thought a human could wear. It wasn’t exactly my scene. My floral sundress and white and pink sneakers felt painfully out of place amidst the sea of black and spikes.

Frank, on the other hand, thrived here. He stood by my side, practically buzzing with excitement, his eyes shining under the dim, flickering light. His guitar case was slung over his back, and he kept nervously adjusting his grip on it. His band’s name was scrawled on the case in Sharpie—Pencey Prep—surrounded by stickers and doodles that screamed teenage rebellion.

“You’re gonna love this,” he said, his voice barely audible over the din of people talking, amps buzzing, and someone’s band warming up with an out-of-tune rendition of a Ramones song. “Trust me, okay?”

I forced a smile and nodded. Trust him? Sure. Love this? Unlikely.

He kissed my temple, the gesture sweet and grounding. It was moments like these that reminded me why I adored him, even if we were from totally different planets when it came to taste. I’d met him at school, where he’d teased me mercilessly about my love of reading while hiding his own love of literature. Despite our stark differences, we’d clicked, our banter evolving into something deeper and meaningful. He was my punk-rock prince, even if I was the farthest thing from a punk-rock princess.

“Okay, we’re on in like ten minutes,” Frank said, practically vibrating. He ran a hand through his mess of hair, shaking it out so it fell perfectly messy again. “You good here? You wanna stand closer to the stage or hang back?”

I looked toward the stage—if you could call it that. It was more like a slightly raised platform barely big enough to hold a drum kit and a couple of amps. People were already clustering around it, jostling for a good spot. The thought of being crushed in the middle of that gave me instant anxiety.

“I’ll hang back,” I said, tugging on the hem of my dress. “But I’ll be watching. Promise.”

Frank’s grin could’ve powered the entire building. “Cool. I’ll find you after. I love ya.”

With that, he darted off toward his bandmates, leaving me to navigate the crowd. I edged toward the back wall, finding a semi-clear spot near a stack of empty milk crates. I leaned against the wall, trying to blend into the shadows. It wasn’t long before the house lights dimmed and someone screamed, “PENCEY PREP!”

The crowd erupted into cheers as the band took the stage. Frank slung his guitar over his shoulder and grabbed the mic. “What the fuck is up Belleville?” he shouted, his voice raspy and electric. The crowd responded with more screaming, and the energy in the room shifted.

The music started—a fast, raw, angry wall of sound that hit me square in the chest. Frank’s guitar snarled, his fingers moving with effortless precision. His bandmates matched his intensity, the drums pounding like a heartbeat, the bassline dark and driving. Frank looked like he belonged up there, his small frame commanding attention, every strum and shout full of purpose.

I wanted to focus on him, but the crowd was mesmerizing in its own way. People moved as one, a chaotic, sweating mass, jumping and thrashing to the music. Someone bumped into me, nearly knocking me over, and I decided maybe blending into the wall wasn’t the best idea. I climbed onto one of the milk crates to get a better view.

From my perch, I had a clear line of sight to Frank. He was in his element, grinning like a maniac as he sang backup vocals into the mic. His gaze swept over the crowd, and for a brief second, our eyes met. He winked at me before launching into a blistering solo. My heart fluttered despite the oppressive heat and noise.

It wasn’t my kind of music, sure, but seeing Frank like this… it was impossible not to get caught up in his energy. He was magnetic, pouring every ounce of himself into the performance. It was raw and messy and completely him.

By the end of their set, the basement felt like a sauna. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, and my makeup was probably melting off, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The crowd roared as Pencey Prep played their final note, the feedback from the amps ringing out as they left the stage. Frank hopped down first, his guitar still slung over his shoulder, and immediately started weaving through the crowd toward me.

“Well?” he asked, breathless and grinning. He had sweat dripping down his face, his shirt clinging to his chest. He looked absolutely wrecked and completely happy. “What’d you think?”

“You were amazing,” I admitted. “Like, really amazing.”

His grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss me, uncaring that he was drenched in sweat. “Told you you’d love it.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” I teased. “I loved you. The music was… intense.”

Frank laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made my chest warm. “Fair enough. Come on, let’s get some air.”

He grabbed my hand and led me out of the basement, dodging people as we went. The cool night air hit me like a blessing as we stepped onto the sidewalk. I took a deep breath, feeling the sweat on my skin start to cool.

Frank pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and lit one, exhaling a plume of smoke. “So, you’d come to another show, right?”

I gave him a sideways glance. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s not a no,” he said, smirking as he nudged my shoulder.

“It’s not a yes either.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. He took another drag of his cigarette and offered it to me, but I shook my head. He shrugged and leaned back against the brick wall, his free hand still holding mine.

“You really liked it?” he asked, softer this time. There was a vulnerability in his voice that caught me off guard.

“Yeah,” I said honestly. “You were incredible. I… I think I get it now. Why you love it so much.”

Frank’s expression softened, and he squeezed my hand. “That means a lot, you know. You being here.”

“Of course I’m here,” I said. “I love you. Even if your music is kind of a lot.”

He laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, grinning.

We stood there for a while, letting the night wrap around us. Frank finished his cigarette and stomped it out, pulling me closer. Despite the noise and chaos of the night, everything felt still and perfect in that moment. For all our differences, we fit together in a way that just worked.

Maybe gigs weren’t so bad after all.

REQUESTS OPEN

81 notes · View notes

house-of-lovin · 2 years ago

Text

legally binded - 5

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 5: Strobe Lights and a Strong Drink

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Oof, what do you guys think? Thanks for reading and all the support guys!

Word Count: 6k+

Shit.

She kissed you.

She didn’t know why she kissed you.

Her fingers trembled even when you were gone minutes later. She brought the shaky fingers up to touch her burning lips, ignoring her sisters’ amused yet quizzical stares.

This whole week with you at her parents house has been nothing short of blissful. It was almost like domestic how you two acted around her family. Unspoken touches and longing stares.

She doesn’t know what to make of it.

All she knows is when she turned to wish you luck, her stomach churned at how delicately you were looking at her.

But before Jenna can think on it some more, her sisters are pulling her away to find a good spot for your performance; Mia, asking passersby which stage people had flocked to.

You didn’t tell her who you were performing with so they didn’t know where to go. Jenna had forgotten to ask.

“Do you know what time she’s going on stage?” Aliyah asks, holding the actress's hand firmly.

“No…” Jenna replied.

“Okay, do you at least know which stage?” Mia asked.

“No.”

“Do you guys ever talk or do you just share silent looks all day?” Mia sighs, fishing for her phone.

Jenna blushes. “I’ll text Link and ask.”

—

She’s buzzing with excitement but she’s impatient. It’s been two hours since you left her.

Jenna keeps sending texts asking when you are coming out to perform but of course, all you do is tease.

You: Stop being impatient, you’ll see soon ;)

Jenna isn’t sure if her suspicions are true but people around her are talking about a surprise guest for Metro Boomin’s set but she doesn’t remember having heard if you had worked with the producer before.

This could be the song you were working tirelessly over this last week.

“Do you think it’s Y/N?” Aliyah asks, peeking her head past the others in the crowd.

They can practically feel the excitement as the music pumps loudly through the gigantic stage.

“I’m not sure.” Jenna shouts, “This is a good set though!”

“Yeah!” Her sister agreed, pulling her to dance.

The cheers get louder when the song finishes, setting up to transition to the next one; the crowd is amped with anticipation.

“Everyone, give it up for The Weeknd!”

The crowd explodes as he comes out in an all-white jumpsuit and blacked-out sunglasses.

“Give it up for Metro Boomin, Coachella!” He praises as he comes out; talking to the crowd as they cheer audibly.

Jenna feels disappointed that it wasn’t you but is still excited when she sees the familiar face. Her sister Mia is practically jumping in her spot, he's one of her favourite artists.

“Jen, come on!” Mia laughs, tugging her closer to the stage, smiling largely.

She fights the urge to pull out her phone and text you again.

10 minutes go by of The Weeknd performing and Jenna’s enjoying herself; forgetting about you for a moment as she dances with her sisters; taking pictures and videos; allowing the music to consume her.

The Weeknd performs well and the crowd is evidently loving him.

Eventually, the music quiets down and the singer starts speaking.

“Can we play some new shit for a second, Coachella?” The crowd screams, excited to be the first to hear a new song. “Alright… then make some noise for Y/N motherfucking L/N.”

A synthesized deep reverberating beat drops and strobe lights flash blindingly in Jenna's eyes making her squint as you ascend through a cloud of thick fog from backstage.

Her jaw drops.

When Jenna gets clear sight of you, she knew you were a sight to behold. "Wow..."

The outfit you are wearing hung off your figure so well and so tight that Jenna wouldn’t be surprised if she was drooling. The heeled boots paired with it give you height accentuating the rest of your clothes well. You changed your hair and makeup and suddenly she understands why everyone she has spoken to has been enamoured by you.

“Woah…” Aliyah trails off, in awe and then turns to her sister with an amused smirk watching her sister's comically enormous round eyes as she continued to stare at you.

You looked like a superstar on that stage.

At first, she thought Link called you that as a joke but as she watched you walk to centre stage, she understood why.

You start singing and Jenna thinks she can pass away now. She can barely hear you as the crowd starts freaking out when seeing you. A sea of phones are immediately pulled out to capture the rare moment of you on stage. Jenna feels like the ground is shaking as the crowd gets ridiculously noisier the longer you sang the unfamiliar words along with the melody.

The beat drops again and Jenna watches as you bounce around on stage with the largest smile plastered on your face as you expertly performed with the other singer.

That's when Jenna felt it.

She knew it then.

Fuck.

She’s so screwed.

—

“Thank you so much for having me Coachella! It's been such a blast!” The crowd screamed thunderously prompting you to painfully clutch your in-ears when you hear just how deafening the audience was now that the backing track wasn't playing.

“Oh shit,” You wince.

You feel loved as you look at the vast and far ocean of blinding lights. This feeling never gets old. It’s been a while since you’ve been on stage; taking a step back to focus on film. When your good friend asked you to do a surprise performance, there was no way you were going to say no.

“You killed it!” Abel laughs in your ear, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks!” You say bashfully, leaning into the embrace.

“Everyone, give it up for the King of Coachella and Metro Boomin!” You praise, pulling away to yell into the mic, smiling wide and large.

For a hopeful moment, you scan the crowd, trying to find Jenna knowing she’s watching you somewhere.

Somehow, you spot her past the masses immediately.

Like a moth to a flame, you find her through the faceless crowd. Jenna had her hands cupped around her mouth as she cheered for you, trying to peek her head above the others. She drops her hands, landing back on the balls of her feet when you make eye contact and just smiled at you proudly.

As if time stops; you and her just stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

Longer than usual.

Longer than necessary for this PR relationship.

You have no doubts that videos of you and Jenna’s stare-off will be trending by tonight when you see people swinging their arms to pan between you and the other actress when they see your line of sight.

Briefly, you hear mutterings of people in the front row saying Jenna’s name and pointing; getting louder.

You blink, realizing where you were and wave goodbye one last time, steadily springing off stage — itching to get all the eyes off of you.

“That was great Y/N!” Link smiles, hugging you immediately. “Did you hear how loud the crowd was? Holy shit!”

“Thanks, Link… and yeah that was crazy.” You laughed appreciatively, the high of performing and having tens of thousands of eyes on you was starting its comedown. “Come on, I’m dying to get these boots off… no matter how pretty they are.”

“Don’t let your stylist hear that. She was excited about the boots — talked my ear off for 10 minutes.” He rolled his eyes, leading you to a tent backstage.

You follow him, ducking and nodding your head in appreciation as people cheer and compliment your performance.

“Yeah, she does that.” You chuckle.

“So what was that?” He asks lowly.

“What?”

“That kiss.” He looks at you sternly.

“Oh. I’m not sure. She just pulled me in.” You answer honestly, not really having the words to describe it yet.

You’ve been pulled left and right as you got ready for the performance.

“Can you sound anymore like a guy? Give me details how was it?” He leans in.

“I—I don’t know.”

“What do you mean I don’t know. She kissed you! That has to mean something! Maybe you two can finally say goodbye to all that weird silent pining you guys have going on.” He wrinkled his nose in memory of how often he caught the two of you staring into each other’s eyes or swinging hands as you walked in tandem.

The two of you are the very definition of oblivious.

“It’s not pining.”

“Call it whatever you want.”

You sigh, “I don’t really know what it means, Link. It’s just a kiss, it might not mean anything to her..”

“To her?” He takes special note.

You roll your eyes, swinging open the flap of the tent. “Yes for her.”

“What did it mean for you, then?” He turns his back to face the wall as you rapidly change.

“Why do you care so much? When was the last time you were on a date?” You huff; tugging the leather boots off your feet. “Did you try that dating app I told you about? I promise it won’t be like last time.”

“Don’t change the subject.” He growled deeply.

You’re no longer allowed to set him up on dates after that experience.

Huffing, you give in, “I’m not really sure what it meant to me, yet. It all happened so fast but… I don’t think I hated it.”

“Mhm.” You were like a toddler learning to walk. He had to slowly coax you as you learn to do things; like talk about your feelings. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Do? Nothing, why would I do something?”

“God, you’re dense.”

“Dude!” You throw your hands up.

He rolls his eyes, “Yes, you should do something! Did you not see the way she was looking at you?” He asks confused.

How did you not see how you two looked at each other?

“I–I, maybe. But I don’t wanna read into it.” You admit.

“That look from her seemed like it meant something, I don’t know.”

“What? No way.” You wave off, despite your heart darting wildly in your chest at his words.

You don't want to get your hopes up.

“Dude, I’m this close to knocking you out. I don’t care who you are.” You hear his loud puff echo in the room. “Why is the thought of being with Jenna so bad to you? You guys are practically acting like you’re together – you’ve been sharing a bed with the girl when there’s a whole mansion here in the Valley for you. You even started doing chores around her parent’s house Y/N... In all my years of knowing you, you have never even turned on the dishwasher at home. Be honest with yourself for once, really.”

“How do you know about the chores?” You peek your head out the divider, sending him a confused look.

“Jenna… who else. We talk, you know.” He says, back still facing you.

“What do you guys talk about?”

“None of your concern.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing out long and tired.

“We’re both so busy all the time, there’s no way it’ll work. Do you remember the last person I tried to date? I don’t want that with Jenna. ” Link shudders; he‘s had his fair share of close calls with filing a restraining order… given your history of flings and relationships.

“They’re all either psycho or it just ends up crashing in flames. I don’t want to have to show up at an award show and awkwardly smile at Jenna, pretending like I don’t know her. Or have a song or movie made about me.. again. I knew this PR stunt was bad news.” You shove your head in the t-shirt, feeling much more comfortable in the soft, loose fabric.

“Okay, you don't mean that. Don’t you think you’re –I don’t know–overthinking this a little? Also, I don’t see Jenna as the songwriting type. Maybe an essay about you?”

“Are you done?” You scoffed at the timing of his joke, stepping out from the wall divider. “Also, I think what I said was very reasonable.”

“I’m just saying, maybe she’s different.”

“I doubt it.” Much like your lyrics; you were just as much a pessimist.

But you know you’re lying — you felt instantly just how different she is from anyone you’ve ever met before.

You just didn’t know it could develop into… this.

Even through thousands of people, you managed to find her from that stage.

Jenna has an omnipotent pull on you that was getting harder to evade.

Something tells you the harder you try to yank away, the tighter the leash will start to feel.

You hated feeling suffocated.

“Y/N.” He says disapprovingly. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know, maybe I do.” You try to appear indifferent; looking away from your best friend to find the matching sweater to your pants.

“Hey. I’m serious. Don’t shut yourself out from the potential of something good just because you’re a little scared.”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Link.” You grow annoyed.

When were you going to get some time for yourself? Without someone questioning you or bombarding you?

"Really? Cause it sounds to me like you're a little scared. I mean, think about it. How different would it be if you two actually dated? Everyone already thinks you're together and you've already been travelling apart for work. Not to mention... you two already act like a couple. It's crazy that you don't see it."

"What?" You look at him bewildered. "No, we don't. It's all for the cameras."

"Dude, it's me. Who are you trying to bullshit? Even Enrique won't stop talking about you two. And you know that guy’s around Jenna all the time.”

You scoff, "That—that doesn't mean anything."

"Please, " He holds a hand up, "I can't handle this today, I'm clocking out. Jenna can deal with you now." Then turns and walks out of the tent.

You huff, not wanting to think about his words.

You could play the fool and say that you have no idea what he's talking about. But you see the longing glances from the other actress.

You pretended not to notice her stares when you were around her family this past week. When her dad was complaining about his car not starting so you offered to look at it for him; a chance for you to get to know her dad a little more (if people asked you, his constant silence still kinda scared you). Or when you were the only one who could get her niece to calm down after fussing that one afternoon. Or when you played basketball with her brother Markus – trying desperately not to trash-talk and cuss out the young, competitive teen.

You get the point, she was always watching and you’re not dumb. You definitely see it; the little hairs on the back of your neck always stand when she’s near. Like your own version of Spidey-senses but with… Jenna. But that doesn't mean anything?

The two of you are at her parent’s house – she’s bound to be around.

Maybe she was drunk? You did order some cocktails throughout the night and she’d begged you for a couple of sips — even offering to hold it for you when you saw some friendly faces amidst the crowd. You may have indulged her. Hey, she's drank before, you know she can handle her alcohol.

Yeah, that has to be it right? Just the high of the crowd and the buzz of a strong drink.

You certainly felt like you needed one if you had to face Jenna soon.

Walking over to the bottle of tequila gifted to you by the producer’s team, you pop the top off and grab a shot glass. You pour yourself a generous shot and immediately down it, wincing at the burn it leaves in your throat.

You pour another one and another one before you feel like you've had enough — you're taking too long in here.

"Hey, there you are!" Jenna's voice exclaimed behind you after the sound of a tarp being pulled open.

You turn, surprised, still holding the shot glass and bottle of Don Julio 1942.

She perks a brow up, amused. "Celebrating alone?"

"We live alone—"

"We die alone. Orson Welles. Somebody to Love." She cuts in.

"Snob." You laugh then turned and grabbed another glass. "Want one? I won't tell."

"Yes." Jenna grinned and walked closer. "Why does no one ever talk about the second part of that quote?"

"There's a second part?" You wrinkled your nose in confusion.

"Yeah, only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone." Jenna quotes, grabbing the shot you held out for her.

"Oh... that's sweet I guess." You place the bottle down, turning to her; ignoring the added meaning behind her words.

"Yeah, it's one of my favourite quotes." Jenna clinks glasses with you.

"Salud." You raise the glass, tap the table and then take the shot heartily.

"You're a dork." Jenna coughs out, wincing at the burn.

"It's customary, darling." You reply teasingly, pulling out a posh English accent.

Jenna laughs a little too hard at your joke, crinkling her nose. "Is that the Little Women accent?"

You blink, taken aback. "You've seen my movie?"

Jenna reddens. "Yeah..." coughing, "like five times. It got you an Oscar nomination."

"That's cute." You grin, heart practically leaping out of your chest.

"I thought I was supposed to find you?" You remembered.

“You were taking too long… and there’s a steady crowd waiting to congratulate you outside but... I wanted to be the first one.” She looks down, kicking the carpet with her booted toe.

You grinned, “You liked it?”

She glanced up, laughing, “Liked it? You were amazing! The crowd was so loud, I definitely lost some of my hearing… I think my Mia and Aliyah might even want you as a sister instead.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Thank you, Jenna… but nah, I think the one they got is pretty cool too. They’re lucky to have you.”

She smiles up at you. And like earlier, you find yourself getting lost in her soft, kind eyes. You two have come a long way since that first meeting…

A part of you thinks, how it feels nice to have someone waiting for you backstage after a performance. Someone that doesn't work for you.

"Hey, so um— are we gonna talk about it?" You gain the courage to ask. Usually, you'd beat around the bush, hating confrontation. You're probably the first person to take a hike at the sign of an inconvenience. But this is Jenna.

Your Jenna.

She had kissed you.

Somethings you can brush off and forget, but not this. You find yourself not wanting to do so, so easily either. Something tells you that it's a memory that'll stick with you for a while, if not forever.

You could probably get Alzheimer's and you still won't forget you and Jenna under the strobe lights and rip-roaring crowd.

A tiny part of you held onto the hope that she’d say she meant it but you would never say that out loud.

"Yeah, I guess we should. Um— did you hate it?" She bit her lip in question.

"Did you?" You cowardly cop-out.

She rolls her eyes, smiling a bit but taking the bait and stepping closer to you. "Not really no..."

"Me too." You blurted and Jenna looks pleased.

"Good." Stepping closer. "Do you think, we can, I don’t know maybe do it again?" She whispers, looking up at you.

"Maybe..." You breathe out; arms stiff by your sides as she leans into your personal space.

"Maybe?" She cocks a coy brow, smirking. "You gonna make me work for it?"

She runs her fingers up your hands to your arm to your shoulder before resting them on your neck. A trail of goosebumps litters your skin.

You bit your lip, not missing how her eyes followed your movements. "I—uh,"

"What? Did I finally make you speechless?" She scrapes her nails against the back of your neck as her other hand rested on your stomach anchoring herself. "If I knew all it had to take was kissing you to shut you up I would've done it a long ti—"

You cut her gloating off, pushing your lips firmly to hers; tightly gripping her sheer button-down shirt. You pray a thousand blessings come to whoever bought this shirt for her because the way her skin burned through the fabric had you clutching her tighter than ever.

She groans against the sudden pressure but melts against you; pulling you down by the hand on your neck; kissing you back. Jenna tilts her head to the side, allowing you to slip your tongue past her lips and into her mouth.

When you traced your hand down her back relishing the way she shuddered under the touch — you made sure to stop and toy with the hook of her bra, just teasing before shamelessly moving your hand on her waist; lower than what should be considered modest for a second kiss.

But you don't care because Jenna is in your arms, kissing you back with the same intensity and for the first time, you feel all the tension between you and her fizzle away.

Like two teenagers who finally managed to find some time alone —she's slotting her leg in between yours making you flinch back.

"Mhmm. Jen not here." You mumble against her lips.

"Sorry, sorry. I got carried away." She blinks, unwrapping herself from you.

You laugh, tugging her closer. "I didn't say move."

Jenna gulps at your tone, feeling flushed. "Okay..."

"We should definitely talk about this though, right?" You sighed, leaning your head on top of hers. Jenna leans into your chest.

"Yeah probably. But this is nice too." She wraps her arms around your waist. She decides she likes the way the curves of your waist made a perfect mould for her arms to rest on.

She looks up, chin on your chest to link eyes. "Maybe it can wait until we're home? My sisters are still waiting outside..."

You look down at her, gently smiling. "Yeah, at home."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Okay." She pulls herself away; linking hands to tug you outside.

But she stops walking just before she can open the flap, promptly spinning on her toes and pulling you down to kiss you again. You only hear her satisfied sighs fanning against your skin.

Then she's pulling away too fast for your liking. "Now we can go."

You can't help but grin ear to ear at that.

—

“The Weeknd, really? I guessed him.” She grumbles from beside you as you two walk back to her sisters.

"I told you, he's a friend. We’re working on some of the soundtrack for his new HBO show." You chuckle, swinging your arm over her shoulder to link hands and tugging her close; wanting to feel closer to the young actress.

"The Idol?" She perks up, having heard about the show.

"Mhmm. Just the music." You hum and Jenna wants to laugh at how nonchalant you sound. How did you have time to do music, act and play your part in this PR relationship? "I composed the arrangement of the song."

"What? That's so cool, I actually want to get into composing." She mentions excitedly.

"You're gonna have to come by the studio sometime then, maybe I can show you a couple of things." You grin, eyes tinged with interest.

"Maybe... but don't change the subject, I guessed The Weeknd." She squeezes your hand, mulling over the idea.

"What do you want? A reward?" You chuckle.

"Yes." She mutters.

"Okay. What would you like? I have a lot to offer?" You say teasingly as you approach her sisters.

But Jenna doesn’t say anything, just takes her free hand and wraps it around your neck to pull you down; connecting your lips in another sensible kiss. You couldn’t fight the sigh that leaves your nose when you feel her tilt her head to the side; deepening the kiss.

Multiple bright flashes breaks your moment.

"Mia! Aliyah!" Jenna glares as they keep smiling.

"What?" Mia asks pretending to sound confused, "Oh shit, these are kinda cute, Jenna you might want this."

Jenna grumbles under her breath, embarrassed and tugged you along to stand a fair distance away from her sisters and closer to the stage.

"Send me those!" You manage to yell before she pulls you out of earshot.

"You two are a match made in heaven." She stands in front of you, leaning against your chest with your arms wrapped around her waist— like before you were pulled away from her to perform.

"Is that jealousy I hear, Ortega? I already told you, there's only one that I care enough to impress. You place your head over her shoulder tugging her close.

Not even the humid desert heat can keep you from wanting to feel closer to the other actress. Jenna seems to be just as comfortable as you so you don't pull away.

"Mhmm. Just checking." She traces a finger over the arm steadily wrapped around her midsection; sending shivers down your spine.

—

“A wedding dress?” You perk up, scanning yourself in the mirror. The Prada x Thom Browne custom gown made just for you made you feel like a Disney princess; hints of gothic design and golden tassels hung haphazardly on the train of dress as it’s still in its work-in-progress stage.

“Mhmm.” Your stylist mumbles, watching the fabric flow down your figure. “With its own flair, this is just the base of the dress. We’ll be adding more details to match the theme.”

“It’s stunning but why this?” You ask, twirling on the podium making the seamstress and tailor scowl beside you.

“To match Jenna, darling, what else for?” She says like you’re stupid — which in hindsight, you might be. But hey, it’s been a long week.

"What is she wearing?" You couldn't help but ask.

She snorts an obnoxious laugh, "Nice try sweetie. You'll see what she wears on the day. Thom would also kill me.”

"I thought you worked for me." You grumbled.

“Not for the Met — I don’t. I’ve seen that tiny girl’s wrath. I’ll deal with you over her.”

After Coachella weekend, there was no 'going home' and 'talking about it' with Jenna because you were already being pulled by Link in the other direction by the end of the night. Telling you about how you need to drive back to L.A. to pack for New York, once again.

Sometimes you felt like you were living most of your life on planes.

This meant you had to leave Jenna (and your dog with her) behind in California as you prepare for the annual fashion gala — where this year, you were tasked with the honour of co-hosting among a panel of other stars and Anna Wintour.

Jenna made sure to send you daily updates on their daily walks. You might have saved a couple of those photos… but as of the last few days, you hadn’t heard from the other actress.

"Now go, Link wants you back in your hotel room to go over your duties for the Met." She holds your hand as you step off the podium. The rest of your fashion team scattered off to their own respective corners; taking notes.

"Thank you, darling. It's always a pleasure to work with you." You say appreciatively.

"The pleasure is all mine." She kisses both of your cheeks before ushering you to a room to change.

—

“Hey, you gotta see this.” Link says as soon as you walk into your hotel suite.

“What is it now?” You ask, sliding in to see what he was looking at.

‘Y/N caught with cocaine? Rumours of a possible arrest. Will this be the end of this young star’s career?’

“How did they find out about the coke?” You grabbed the phone out of his hands, re-reading the article for a possible source.

“Not sure. But Liv has her suspicions. She said she’s looking into it and not to worry. Lawyers are saying they don’t have basis to charge you. Some people don’t believe it but you know, people love to stir shit up.” He watches your creased forward. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“How can I not worry about it? They’re drug allegations, lawyers are involved. Jake said that part wouldn’t get out to the press because they weren’t mine. He promised.” You give the phone back to him and start pacing the room.

“Hey, hey. Jake and Liv are handling it and Sarah is already in talks of tracking down whoever the possible source is.”

“Sarah… Sarah’s involved.” You mutter.

“Yeah? This kinda affects Jenna too.” He shrugs.

“Fuck. Fuck Jenna knows…” Your eyes widen in realization. Is this why she hasn’t reached out?

The two of you haven’t had time to talk these last few days. She’s been busy with her family and her Dior event while you’ve been on the East Coast prepping for the MET.

Does she know?

“I’m not sure. But if Sarah is involved. Good chances are… Jenna’s heard about it ‘cause she’s been warned.”

“Fuck.” You groan into your hands.

“Does Jenna not know?” Link asks confused.

“I don’t know what she knows, to be honest. I think she might have heard about the coke in the beginning but Jake and Liv made sure to keep that part under wraps. Only my drunken disorderly got out to the press. I–I’m not sure if Jenna ever knew it was true…”

“Y/N, it’s okay. It’s Jenna. I’m sure she’ll understand once you two get a chance to talk.” He places his hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about that night, Jake. Especially not with her. It’s not exactly my best moment…”

“Well… I feel like she’s gonna have questions, regardless.” He walks off to the kitchen.

You head to your room to nap away the bad news you just got.

Met Gala duties can wait.

—

“You'll look great beside Jenna."

“Where is she, Enrique?” You tugged on the base of the dress.

“In her room.” He plainly answers, brushing down any wrinkles.

“Can I see her? I need to talk to her.”

His eyes flicker up to you, stopping his fretting. You don’t miss the slight judgment in his eyes. “No can do. She’s still getting ready.”

“I thought we were walking the carpet together?"

“You are. But you’ll see her when she’s done getting ready.”

“Are you mad at me or something?” You couldn’t help but ask, making your makeup artist stop for a moment.

He flicks a brow up, “It’s not my place to be mad at you. You should talk to Jenna.”

“What does that mean?” You furrow your brows.

“Like I said, just talk to her. She’ll be ready in a bit. Meet us on her floor.” Then he walks off

You sighed.

“You’re good to go, hun.” Your glam team confirms.

Eventually, your team trickles out one by one leaving you with a moment to yourself. Closing your eyes, you lean back against your chair and let out a heavy sigh.

You really wanted to talk to Jenna before tonight’s gala.

The news of your ‘possible arrest’ and ‘charges’ is abuzz all over the internet and social media.

It seems like whoever leaked that you were caught with coke made you public enemy number one on certain news outlets, once again.

But people on the internet have differing opinions. Some make fun of the situation, some defend you, and some are outright bashing you.

You’ve deactivated various social media’s, only keeping your Instagram to check on Jenna and her family’s posts from Coachella weekend, but your comments are limited.

The slew of hate you've been hit with from randoms is overwhelming despite you not caring about their thoughts on your life and the way you chose to live it.

There's only so much you can take when the first thing you read when you open social media is your name.

But, you’ve been so swamped with rehearsals and duties as a host that you couldn’t even greet the other actress when she landed. By the time you made it back to your hotel room in the dead of night, you didn’t feel you should disturb Jenna’s much-needed rest — knowing she’s a bit of an insomniac.

“Hey, I just got the okay. We’re good to go. We can meet Jenna.” Link pops his head through the door breaking you out of your thoughts.

You open your eyes, and sighed, taking your time to get up making Link raise his brow. “Hey, it’ll be okay.”

He reassures you once you stepped out of the door, holding the lavish train of your dress behind you.

“Yeah…” You mutter distantly, bunching your dress up with one hand to walk to the elevator.

When you make it to Jenna’s floor your hands begin to perspire. Enrique’s words from earlier ringing loudly in your ears, he definitely made it sound like Jenna was mad at you.

She was right, you do jump to conclusions.

You force yourself to take a calm, deep breath as you wait for her door to open; nervously tapping your high-heeled foot on the carpet.

When the door creaks open, your eyes are snapping to it immediately.

“Wow…” You do a double-take, with a wide-eyed goggle — taking a step back to admire her custom tuxedo dress.

“Thanks…” She tucks a hair behind her ear, glancing down shyly.

“Jenna… I mean it, you look— wow. I mean—“ You stutter embarrassingly.

In all your ears as a performer, you have never been so tongue-tied. What is this girl doing to you?

Even Enrique couldn’t help but laugh behind her, easing the tension as Jenna just flicks an amused brow at you, despite her reddening cheeks.

Clearing your throat, attempting to hide your unabashed staring, “Sorry, I just mean— you look beautiful.”

“Thank you… so do you.” She muttered gingerly.

“You like it? It’s a little on the nose.” It was your turn to blush as you glanced between your outfit and hers — a bride and groom. You try not to put too much meaning on the implication.

“It was my idea, actually.” She admitted.

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” She steps out, walking ahead of you. “It’ll be great for the press.”

That word was starting to grind your gears whenever it left her mouth.

You frowned as she walked further away.

"Can we talk? I need to tell you something." You slide in next to her.

Damn her and those heels.

"Not now, Y/N," Jenna whispers coldly, sparing you a warning look.

"It's important Jenn—"

"Y/N. I'm serious. Don't make things worse." She says with certainty that made you slightly afraid but knowing when to keep your mouth shut has never been your strong suit.

"You know... about the article." You trail off, unsure how you feel.

"Of course. I know, Y/N. God." She rolls her eyes and walks into the elevator.

You keep your head down and shove yourself into the opposite corner of the metal box; not wanting to be close to the other actress as you attempt to cool down.

She really believed a gossip article?

When the door opens, you couldn’t help but slide in beside her. “And you really believe it? Over me?”

She sighed, pulling you aside to a secluded corner and let both of your teams walk ahead; ignoring their prying eyes.

“I don’t know what to believe Y/N.”

You scoff, brows furrowing, “Me… believe me, Jenna.”

“How?” She says bluntly and you feel your heart drop at her tone and how sure she sounded about her accusations.

You know you’re the farthest from a saint. Did what you do warrant this reaction from her?

Maybe.

But you felt like you should still be able to explain your side.

She takes your stunned silence as a prompt to keep talking.

“This is what you do. You run away from things until it catches up to you. We’ve spent the last few months by each other sides and you never brought up the—“She takes a deep breath, glancing around wearily, “Coke… so you tell me Y/N, what should I believe? ‘Cause it feels like you haven’t been upfront with me.”

“Upfront with you–” You laugh resentfully.

“Guys, we gotta go!” Link yells before you can give in to your rising anger.

I guess you know where you stand with her.

“We—We’ll talk about it later,” Jenna sighs, hanging her head low as if she were tired.

Deep breath...

“Don’t bother. Point made."

“What was that?” Link asks, holding his elbow out for you to take as you walked away from the other actress.

“My answer.” You mumbled, bitterly.

Maybe she is just like the rest of them.

–

not even sorry about it…

(fun fact: my @ is a play-off of House of Balloons by The Weeknd)🫢

taglist is closed

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy77944 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamaisis @zelload @natashadeservedmore @orang3-ish @friedryes @nahnahnahwhatt @be-missed @jjuncidioo @oksana-moodsds @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @zaza11sblog @omega-horus @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon123 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow@ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawnn @annalestern @noooodlessstuff @vstblrblog @godsfavouritelesbiann

#legally binded #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega

1K notes · View notes

palesweetscherryblossom · 5 months ago

Text

Lamb in the Snake Den

Warnings: Kidnapping, mention of child neglect, Shigaraki being unintentionally creepy, infertility and unwanted hypnosis

There was always one golden rule of your little village that everyone was slated to follow. Never go into the forest after dark. One might think that it was a silly rule born out of small town fears but you would be wrong.

The rule was born after many particular circumstances that resulted in bloodshed, betrayal and abuse of the innocent. Two boys were banished from the village after circumstances beyond their control.

One was given an unwanted curse and the other was left to die after his father tried to play god but ultimately failed. At first they were left alone, peaceful and satisfied with the land they lived on.

Then hunters decided it would be an excellent adrenaline rush if they tried taking down the serpentine beasts for the thrill. A massive mistake.

First it was minimal things. Trashing the nagas’ nesting sights, cutting down their fruit trees, hunting down their usual prey.

Then they crossed a line. A hunter lit up a torch and tossed it into one of the caves where one of them was resting. Cowardly, they fled to avoid the naga’s more brutal mate.

They all giggled with sadistic delight when they heard a raspy, bloodcurdling scream. The laughter stopped when the scream turned from anguish to rage.

Legend said that the water supply turned an eerie shade of red after the hunters were never seen again. Really, the only proof of their existence was the severed torsos and bloodied rifles.

The two naga never really got over it, for how could one get over being forever wounded? Livestock went missing, people rarely wanted to gather water, people didn’t travel.

They all longed for the days of when all they had to fear were bears, giant hornets and cougars.

One day, the village leaders had enough and went out into the woods with torches to ask a simple question to the naga.

“What do you want from us?!” They shouted in unison. “We can’t keep living like this!” They stated. Red eyes stared back at them in the darkness, coarse scales rubbing against the dirt floor.

“That’s what we said when you parasites came for our land.” The naga answered back, voice dripping with malicious intentions. He scratched at his neck and circled around the primates he was forced to call human.

He couldn’t help but deviously chuckle at how scared they looked despite them trying to act all proud with their silly rifles and knives. ‘No better than a hackle pup trying to intimidate a fly.’

“My mate couldn’t even move after you bastards burned him. He didn’t wake up for a week.” The naga rasped, eyes hurt and angry.

“Just please give us a solution to end this madness. We’ll give you anything!” One pleaded. The naga’s chapped lips curled into a sneer before he began to hum quietly. He hissed lowly in thought before smiling lowly.

“I would like a hatchling.” The village elders were caught off guard, all dumbfounded and gawking at the naga.

“I don’t want stupid gold or even one of those wenches you keep at those brothels. I want a hatchling.” The naga’s mind wandered to the clutch of eggs he recently laid. All of them duds unfortunately. No doubt his poor mate was trying to keep them warm.

“A-are you mad?” A village elder accused. The naga snarled. “Have you acquired a taste of human flesh to the point where you’ll eat a child?” The naga snapped, saying that they either deliver or he would personally amp up the pressure if they didn’t comply.

That’s how you got here. It’d been a few months since that threat was made. The naga had delivered on his promise, half of the flock was taken instead of the usual one or two. Cattle was found to be dead of venom.

After this was made, you were given a special task. The orphanage head guided you to the large, wooden gates of the village. You were handed a simple wicker basket and told to pick the prettiest flowers you could find.

You listened, not paying attention to the somber gazes of the villagers and the night sky hanging overhead.

“Bye bye! Save me some dinner!” You gleefully called out as you naively waved goodbye to the gates. Then you happily marched into the forest.

You had always found yourself enamored with the forest, from the lush greenery to the charming animals you’d see in books. You were gonna pick so many flowers and show them off to all the kids back at the orphanage! This was practically a dream come true!

Your basket was filled with various flowers and the occasional core of a fruit. The moon shone over the trees as you frowned at your predicament. There was no more room in your basket.

And the silly orphanage head forgot to give you a map to get home! Usually the dark wasn’t so scary, for the village had lanterns, candles and other items to keep things bright. But the forest just had the moon.

“Mmm..” You muttered, walking deeper. You hoped that they saved you some dinner at least, the fruit was delicious but it wasn’t that filling. Your stomach growled hungrily.

Mashed potatoes, roasted mutton and pudding was on tonight’s menu and it sounded appetizing right now. “Cold.” You whispered weakly, feeling the breeze nip at your skin unforgivingly. Things were only going to get more frightening down the line.

Rough scales drifted along the dirt path as Tomura took account of happenings around him. Tomura was a territorial naga so he liked making sure that no filthy vermin was in his territory. After what happened to Dabi, Tomura wasn’t taking any chances.

He smirked at remembering his mate complaining about how he didn’t need to be babied and that he could hunt with Tomura tonight. Then he found himself busied with cooking his dinner. Tomura’s musings were cut short by the feeling of something sticky on his tail. “What the hell?” He muttered, coiling his tail around the object.

Tomura then smelt a sweet and tart scent. “Fermented fruit, perhaps?” He hummed. Nope, it was a fruit core. “Oh, those bastards better not be here.” Tomura growled, his rattle coming to life slightly. Other animals would devour the fruit whole. So, Tomura went back on the prowl. He still wasn’t over the humans denying him.

Things weren’t looking so good for you. Frustrated tears leaked from your eyes as you hid in a log, cobwebs in your hair and wicker basket knocked over in frustration.

You had been walking around in circles for a while. Every glimmer of hope that you’d be home was shattered. Your stomach continued growling, your cheeks stung due to the constant wiping of tears. The smell of wet wood made you cry harder. You longed for your comfy bed and plushies, you wanted a bedtime story.

This wasn’t fair! All you wanted was to pick flowers! Why wasn’t anyone looking for you? Your thoughts were cut off by a low, raspy voice and the sound of scales against the log.

“Come out, my filthy little human..”

It sounded like what the monster under the bed would sound like. You let out a frightened scream, trying to exit out the other side only for it to be blocked by a snake tail. A triumphant hiss was heard, a cold hand grasped your ankle, causing you to screech.

“There you are, now time to explain yourself-!” Tomura’s triumphant boasting was cut off when he was greeted with not an adult or hunter but a child? Wet cheeks, wide eyes and stained clothing. Tomura could smell the fruit smell radiating off of you.

Tomura was rare to feel genuine shame, for he had nothing to be ashamed of but this made the feeling blossom in his chest. “P-please mister, I-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” You cried, sobbing loudly now like a recently born baby. Tomura’s proud and bloodthirsty expression melted away into sympathy as he watched you cry.

It certainly didn’t help that he and Dabi were coming down from their mating cycle and a hormone crash. “Oh, it’s okay. Shh, hush it’s alright.” Shigaraki’s parental brain smacked him in the face and yelled at him to comfort the child. You cried harder, moreover frightened at Tomura’s body. “Oh, you poor baby. It’s just me, it’s just me.” He soothed, trying to smooth out your hair.

“M-monster! Monster!” You cried loudly, hoping someone would help. To hear your crying. But nobody did, no frantic footsteps or answers back. Just your sobs and the sound of water babbling lazily.

Tomura’s face contorted with sympathy, watching as your poor, sad little face contorted with confusion as to why nobody was there. It was reminiscent of his own, of Dabi’s. Parental instincts kicked into high gear. “Hatchling, look at me.” Tomura cooed lowly, cupping your wet cheek and gently adverting your gaze to his own.

Hypnosis was a tool that naga used for a variety of purposes. Tomura and Dabi used it for prey, sleep assistance and other tasks. It was also a tool to get hatchlings to calm down when gravely injured, tantrums or a sleep aid. You fussed at first for the feeling was uncomfortable and genuinely frightening at first. “S-stop, f-feels weird!” You whined but Tomura soothed you.

“It’s okay sweet thing, papa’s here. Shh.” He purred, watching you ultimately relax in his hold. He smiled sweetly, wiping away any stray tears. “There now, no more tears.” He murmured, looking up at the sky then back at your dazed form. “Who sent you out here at this time of night, hm?” He asked, only getting a mutter. “No matter, you’re coming home with me anyway.” Tomura muttered, kissing your forehead.

“Let’s go home now.”

Pt2 will be coming soon

@messedupcookiejar

#platonic yandere #yandere mha #yandere shigaraki #child reader #naga shigaraki

106 notes · View notes

bg3mazewanderer · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter Update 🔔

Starlight in the Labyrinth Chapter 6. Return and Redemption

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60628156/chapters/159498127

I think we all feel the same—after the duel with Orin, where Durge died (!) and was brought back to life, I felt like there was always something missing in the aftermath, especially with the companions, and particularly with Astarion after becoming their partner. So, this is my take on it. To amp up the drama, I added some settings. I thought it made sense to put Astarion in a situation where he had no choice but to watch their duel while bound, a spell like 'hold person' for example. Making him unable to shout, unable to move—completely powerless. I’d love to hear your thoughts too.

The moment the words left Orin’s lips, the magic that had been tightening his movements surged forth, all too familiar—like iron chains woven from Cazador’s shadow. It wrapped around Astarion and the others, holding them fast and completely robbing them of the ability to move. It was followed by a storm of ice and blood, erupting in an instant. This wasn’t just a battle between two Bhaalspawn; in Astarion’s eyes, it was a clash between a Slayer and the one person in the world he could not bear to lose. His voice was trapped in his throat, his scream echoing only in his mind as he called her name. Her blood bloomed like dark petals on the stone floor, staining the ground with every brutal exchange. Bound and helpless, he could only watch, rage and despair tearing through him with every second. He cursed everything he could think of: the gods, fate, the magic that bound him, even himself. When Orin finally fell, it should have been a moment of relief. But his body remained restrained, still held by the cruel enchantment. Then the giant mark of Bhaal, carved into the temple wall, began to glow a deep crimson. A suffocating silence fell over the chamber as all of them felt it—a presence descending, undeniable and all-consuming. Astarion could feel his body trembling violently, though he still couldn’t move. It wasn’t fear for himself but an unrelenting terror for her. Bhaal demanded that Maze reclaim his gift—that she take back her rightful place as his chosen. Maze stood tall, defiant, meeting the god’s demand without hesitation. Her rejection was clear, unwavering. In that instant— A terror beyond mortal comprehension flooded the temple. The evil god’s wrath burned like a crimson storm, his anger piercing through their very souls. The light surged and condensed into a single point, focusing on Maze, and then— She collapsed.

Astarion felt as though he had split in two, from his skull to his very core. NO. No, no, no. He refused to accept what he was seeing—refused her life fading, refused her pulse stilling like a star flickering before extinguishing in the night sky. Every fiber of his being rebelled against the reality unfolding before him. The sound of her body hitting the floor was the last thing he heard before silence consumed everything. In the deadly quiet, his mind fragmented, untethered from his body, flailing between denial and madness. His vision blurred, tears streaking down his face, but no sound escaped his lips. His breathing was ragged and erratic as he struggled to force out a voice that refused to come, his efforts thwarted again and again. The scream within clawed at his throat, tearing apart the fragile pieces of himself Maze had so painstakingly mended. He was so consumed by his grief and fury that he didn’t notice the withered figure appearing in the temple. It wasn’t until Withers’ voice cut through the maelstrom of his thoughts that the world began to take shape again. The ancient figure murmured something about cosmology or her fate or power he holds, words Astarion could barely process. As Withers began his incantations, reality seemed to warp, snapping back into place as the oppressive magic holding Astarion began to wane. He felt his limbs loosen, the crushing bonds finally giving way. At the same time, Maze’s chest rose with a shuddering breath. Astarion’s legs gave out beneath him as the weight of everything overwhelmed him. He collapsed to his knees, trembling as he crawled toward her, every movement agonizingly slow. The lingering magic still pressed down on him, but he didn’t care. He had to reach her. Finally, painfully, he reached her side and pulled her into his arms. His heart broke anew as he held her, his whole body shaking from the effort. Her eyes fluttered open, and Astarion’s breath hitched. Her eyes, once crimson with the taint of dark urge, had transformed. Now, her irises shimmered with a brilliant, iridescent opalescence, like a fragile yet radiant star. Even amidst the fear that still hadn’t fully faded, they were beautiful beyond words. Her gaze met his, offering reassurance. Tears continued to stream down his face as he held her close, his arms trembling. For a long while, he could only cling to her, his tears mingling with the blood staining her skin. When his voice finally cracked, no words came—nothing could capture the storm of emotions tearing through him. He shook with the force of them, unable to contain the anguish that poured out of him. Maze weakly lifted a hand, resting it against his back. She didn’t need to speak. Her warmth, her breath—those were enough. For a long moment, the only sound in the temple was Astarion’s broken sobs, loud, anguished cries wracking his body. His shoulders heaved with each breath as the weight of everything came crashing down. Still barely conscious, Maze held him close, gently stroking his back. In that moment, the world outside the temple ceased to exist. Withers, the enigmatic being who always spoke of something like fate and order, had never meant much to Astarion—he had always dismissed such talk as meaningless ramblings. But here, in this very moment, as Withers appeared once more—invoking the name of fate and setting everything back in its rightful place—it was slowly becoming clearer to Astarion: what we truly need to protect ourselves, what it means to be saved...

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 durge #durgestarion #bg3 fanart #astarion x durge #bg3 fanfiction

37 notes · View notes

thepinkpanther83 · 2 days ago

Text

And They Were Roommates (Pt.13)

Chapter Thirteen: “Walk of Triumph (And Slight Shame)”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Chapter Twelve: “Redemption, Bras, and Burnt Toast” Chapter Fourteen: “Title TBD” (Link Coming Soon)

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter Thirteen: “Walk of Triumph (And Slight Shame)”

The moment the dressing room door creaked open, a blast of air hit you, cooler than inside, but nowhere near cold enough to chill the flush still blooming across your cheeks. Eddie stepped out first, chest puffed like a rockstar after a sold-out show, smug grin curling at the corners of his mouth like he’d just personally saved rock 'n roll with his dick.

The second the band spotted them, the teasing hit like a wave.

“Oh my God,” Gareth groaned, mock-clapping with slow, dramatic flair like he was presenting a lifetime achievement award. “Somebody get this man a medal.”

“GET A ROOM!” Jeff shouted, then cupped his hands to his mouth and added, “Oh wait- YOU DID!”

Grant just let out a long, theatrical whistle and muttered, “Y’all are nasty.”

You groaned and buried your face in Eddie’s chest, half-hiding, half-laughing, your voice muffled against his shirt. “I told you they’d hear us.”

“I wanted them to hear us,” Eddie purred, wrapping an arm around you like a damn prizefighter strutting back from a victory round. “Let the record show- I did not hold back.”

“You’re a menace,” you hissed, voice shaky from laughing, still clinging to him as if he could shield you from the embarrassment.

He looked absolutely pleased with himself. He kissed the top of her head, beaming, then held up a rumpled, very recognizable scrap of satin and lace like it was a war banner freshly taken from the battlefield.

The band lost it.

Gareth choked on his own spit. “Dude… is that her-?!”

Jeff let out a strangled cackle. “He’s got the panties. This man is waving the panties.”

You gasped, mortified. “EDDIE!” you shrieked, trying to snatch them back, but he twirled out of reach, swinging the delicate fabric around one finger like a lasso.

“Too late, sweetheart,” he grinned. “Trophy claimed.”

“Oh my god. Kill me. Kill me now.”

“Can’t,” Eddie said brightly, tucking the panties into his back pocket like a love letter. “You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed.”

You swatted him half-heartedly, still hiding your face, but he caught your hand and kissed your knuckles like some smarmy prince from a rock opera.

“I hate you,” you muttered against his chest, but he just chuckled low in his throat.

“Nah, you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, voice laced with unholy glee. “Wait till they see the size of the hickey I left behind.”

You gasped again, but this time it was paired with a helpless laugh as he pulled you along, strutting toward the exit like the proud little menace he was.

Behind them, Gareth called, “Were those moans or screams we heard? Just wanna label the recording properly.”

“And in a shocking turn of events, Munson finishes before soundcheck! A new personal best!” Jeff narrated like it’s a sportscast.

“You owe us new amp cables. Some things can’t be unheard.” Grant threw in his two cents.

Eddie just flipped them off without looking back, fingers laced with yours, smug as ever. And despite the howling embarrassment, you let him lead you away- grinning, glowing, and head-over-heels with the ridiculous, wonderful chaos of being his.

The Morning After…

The first thing you felt was heat.

Not just the warmth of sunlight pushing its way through the blinds, but real, body heat- heavy, lazy, and entirely wrapped around you. One arm slung over your waist, a thigh wedged between yours, and a tangle of wild hair brushing against your bare shoulder. It took a second longer to process the unmistakable scent of cigarettes, sweat, and Eddie Munson’s shampoo.

Right. That happened.

You cracked one eye open.

Eddie was asleep, flat on his stomach, one cheek smushed into the pillow by your shoulder, his curls fanned out like some gothic cherub. His bare back rose and fell with each slow breath, long limbs splayed out like he’d been dropped from a great height and left there to melt. There were red lines down his back from your nails.

Your legs ached.

Your throat was achy.

And somehow, despite all the awkward positioning, despite the weird soreness in places you didn’t know you could be sore, you felt… weirdly giddy. Like you’d just survived something beautiful and borderline illegal.

His fingers twitched against your hip. He made a small sound- half-groan, half-sigh, and shifted just enough to nuzzle his nose into your shoulder with a pleased little hum, like you were a particularly satisfying dream he wasn’t ready to let go of yet.

You didn’t move.

You didn’t want to.

For once, the chaos had stilled. No teasing bandmates, no amps screeching in the distance, no dramatics. Just this: a man who’d grinned his way into your bed, rearranged your insides all night, and then had fallen asleep in your bed like he belonged there.

Which was dangerous.

Because part of you was starting to believe he did.

You weren’t sure what time it was- early, probably, judging by the silvery light peeking in through the curtains, but time didn’t matter. Not with Eddie’s leg still slung over yours like he was physically anchoring you in bed, arm heavy across your waist, and his face buried in the crook of your neck like you were the last comfortable pillow in the world.

The man radiated body heat like a human furnace, and he snored. Lightly, inconsistently. Adorably. You weren’t gonna tell him that, though.

You shifted a little, trying to wiggle the blanket back up over your shoulder, only to find it hopelessly trapped underneath him.

“Jesus, Munson,” you grumbled, voice still hoarse, “you hog the whole bed and the covers?”

Eddie let out a groggy, half-mumbled noise- somewhere between a growl and a laugh, and tugged you closer like you were part of the bedding. “’S not bed hogging if I’m cuddling,” he slurred. “It’s called being affectionate.”

“You’ve got all the blankets.”

“I’ve got my girl,” he murmured, without even thinking about it, his lips brushing your collarbone like a punctuation. “Pretty sure that trumps blanket ownership.”

Your breath caught.

You weren’t sure if he heard it or if the words even registered for him. He was still half-asleep, the kind of blissed-out satisfaction you only get when your band doesn’t have practice, you’re not hungover, and you’ve just spent the night very thoroughly ruining someone’s ability to walk in a straight line.

Still, the phrase my girl hung in the air like the scent of last night’s sex- lingering, heavy, and just a little intoxicating.

You shifted again, just enough to see him crack one eye open, lashes a mess, and smile lazy as sin. He looked at you like the bed was the whole world, and you were the best part of it.

“You can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to clock it,” you said, voice low, teasing.

His grin only grew. “I didn’t say anything.” He nuzzled your shoulder like a damn cat. “Must’ve been dreaming.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Dreaming about claiming me like some sleep-paralysis boyfriend.”

“I am your sleep-paralysis boyfriend. Sexy and slightly alarming.” He stretched, long and dramatic, then promptly curled right back around you. “And if you do need rescuing, babe, I’ve got the guitar and the dungeon master’s guide ready.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Only to exes and fitted sheets.”

You snorted. And then, despite yourself, relaxed into him.

Eventually, your stomach started growling loud enough to compete with Eddie’s previous snores.

You shifted beneath the tangle of limbs, trying to escape the full-body Eddie wrap without disturbing him too much. That lasted about four seconds.

He grunted when you moved, long arms tightening instinctively, voice still deep and scratchy from sleep. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he murmured, eyes half-lidded but locked on you like a lazy jungle cat clocking its prey.

“Food, Munson. Unless you wanna go another round on an empty stomach?”

He blinked, clearly torn. Then smirked. “Tempting. But you might actually pass out on me this time.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest. “Get up, bed hog. I need coffee.”

“I need you,” he replied dramatically, flopping across your back as you sat up and dragging the blanket with him. “But do I whine about it? Yes. Yes, I do.”

He eventually let you up with a groan, flopping bonelessly onto the sheets and flashing you that annoyingly smug grin as you stumbled toward the dresser, completely naked and trying to act like it didn’t matter.

“Y’know,” he said, arms folded behind his head, “if I’d known all I had to do was put my name on that ass, and take a bite to get a morning show like this, I’d’ve left bite marks on it a lot sooner.”

“Bite marks?” you echoed, glancing over your shoulder.

He just winked. “Go look in the mirror, baby.”

You didn’t, because you knew he wasn’t bluffing. And the gleam in his eye said he was damn proud of himself.

Still naked, he followed you out of bed a few minutes later, he put his boxers back on, and tugged one of your oversized shirts off the back of a chair and pulled it on without shame. It fit him way too well for your comfort. Like, offensively well. Like it should be illegal.

You raised an eyebrow as he passed by you, already nosing around your bedroom space like he lived there. “That my shirt?”

“Not anymore,” he said simply, peeking into your bookshelf like he was inspecting the competition. “What, no dirty secrets in here? Not even a diary?”

“Eddie-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find it. Just need to know where to file my love letters.” He flashed you a crooked grin before he left and wandered toward the kitchen, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake.

You found him a minute later poking around the kitchen cabinets like a man on a mission. His boxers had ridden up just enough to give you a totally unfair view of his thighs. Which, rude. Very rude.

“Do you even know how to make coffee correctly yet?” you asked, watching him frown at your machine like it had insulted his mother.

“Sweetheart,” he said, turning slowly, “I was raised on diner sludge and gas station drip. I am coffee.”

You reached past him to take over, brushing against him deliberately. “Sit. Let the expert handle it.”

He didn’t argue- just wrapped his arms around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder while you worked, humming happily like this was already routine. Like you hadn’t just had sex with each other for the first time last night. Like waking up in your bed and helping make coffee in his boxers and your shirt was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re dangerous like this,” he murmured, voice low and warm in your ear. “All soft and beautiful and mine.”

You hesitated, heart doing a little leap at that word again.

Mine.

You didn’t correct him.

You didn’t want to.

As usual, Eddie was an absolute menace in the kitchen.

You were pretty sure he used every single pan you owned in the span of ten minutes, somehow managing to get flour on his elbows, syrup on the counter, and eggshells exactly nowhere near the trash. He moved like a man possessed- shirt crumpled up oddly on one shoulder, boxers riding scandalously low, hair a disaster. He was whistling something vaguely metal as he tried to flip a pancake with entirely the wrong type of spatula.

“You’re gonna set something on fire,” you warned, hovering near the coffee pot like it was your emotional support animal. “Again.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, flipping the pancake with zero confidence and burning the corner. “I thrive in chaos.”

“You live in chaos. Thriving is… questionable.”

Eddie shot you a crooked grin, nudging a spatula at you like a sword. “Admit it, I turn you on.”

You sipped your coffee with theatrical calm. “You turn me on in spite of the pancake homicide.”

“That’s fair.”

He bumped into you on his way to grab another bowl- just a little nudge with his hip, but it was enough to make you laugh, and the sound of it made him beam like a damn sunrise. He was annoyingly bright this morning, like good sex had permanently juiced his serotonin. Every time you caught his eye, he looked at you like you were a song he was still humming under his breath.

The scent of butter and something vaguely cinnamon-filled the kitchen.

“You’re not seriously putting peanut butter on those, are you?”

Eddie gasped. “You wound me.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It’s delicious, and I am a culinary genius.” He struck a proud pose with the jar of peanut butter in one hand, spatula in the other, shirt hanging like a toga. “Put that in your little diary.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbed your old Polaroid from the shelf by the fridge, and snapped a picture without warning.

“HEY!” he squawked, spinning on one heel like a scandalized Victorian lady. “You didn’t even give me a smolder option!”

“You don’t get options when you look like a gremlin covered in flour.”

“Babe. That’s my brand.”

The photo printed with a mechanical whirr, and you shook it in the air until the image started to bloom into focus- Eddie mid-spatula wave, peanut butter jar clutched to his chest like a holy relic, the kitchen an absolute war zone behind him.

He leaned over your shoulder to peek.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, nodding approvingly. “That’s going on the fridge.”

“You’re not putting your own chaos pin-up on my fridge.”

“Our fridge,” he corrected with a smug little eyebrow waggle.

You gave him a look. “Pretty sure that requires an on-time rent payment.”

“I pay in sex and emotional instability. Money comes later. It’s a very fair trade.”

You snorted. “So that’s what you’re calling your pancake-flipping skills?”

He grinned, lips brushing your cheek. “Nah, sweetheart. I meant the other thing that made your legs shake last night.”

You let out a scandalized huff that you didn’t even mean, swatting him with the dish towel and turning back to your coffee before he could see the blush spreading down your neck.

Behind you, he put the photo on the fridge with a fruit-shaped magnet and stepped back, arms folded like he’d just painted the Sistine Chapel.

And when you looked over, his eyes softened, just for a second. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of moment. But you caught it. The way he looked at the photo, then at you- like this? This messy little domestic slice of morning? Was everything.

He didn’t say it.

Didn’t have to.

You knew.

And you weren’t ready to ask what it meant just yet.

But part of you already knew the answer.

“You know…” he said suddenly, turning back to the stove, “Wayne’s off tonight.”

You raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I was thinkin’ maybe we could bring this breakfast- well, the salvageable parts, over to the trailer. Surprise him with lunch. Do a whole Breakfast-For-Lunch thing. He loves that corny crap.”

Your fingers tightened around your mug just slightly. “Like… the two of us? Bringing him lunch?”

Eddie shrugged, playing it casual but failing spectacularly. “Yeah, I mean. If you’re not busy. I’ve kinda been talkin’ you up to him for a while now, so… y’know. Might as well let the man put a face to the name.”

You blinked. “You’ve been… talking me up?”

He gave you a playful bump with his hip again. “What, like I wasn’t gonna brag about my hot, smart, badass kitchen queen who puts up with my nonsense? C’mon.”

You laughed, but it sounded a little breathless. “So this is, what, like… a meet-the-family thing?”

“Only if you want it to be,” he said quickly, eyes catching yours with just a flicker of nervousness behind the smirk. “No pressure. We just bring some pancakes over, shoot the shit, and if Wayne says anything embarrassing I promise to knock over his La-Z-Boy on the way out.”

You stared at him for a long moment, heart thudding too hard for something as simple as pancakes.

“Okay,” you said, and smiled, trying to match his tone. “Let’s bring the man some breakfast for lunch.”

“Hell yeah.” He grinned. “You’re gonna love him.”

If he was anything like Eddie, you were pretty sure he was right.

After Eddie declared the fridge officially adorned, he dusted flour off his hands like a job well done. You watched him with an amused shake of your head, sipping the last of your coffee like it might steel your nerves.

“Okay, kitchen gremlin,” you said, waving at the mess. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and try to forget what you did to my spatulas.”

“Can I come?”

“Do you have to ask?”

He followed you down the hall barefoot, yawning like a sleepy lion and scratching at his stomach. You flicked on the bathroom light, already reaching for your toothbrush, and he wordlessly grabbed his own from the cup on the sink like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it was. And maybe that scared you a little.

You stood side-by-side in front of the mirror, shoulders brushing, tired-stupid grins ghosting your faces while you moved around each other in perfect sync, trading places at the sink, rinsing, spitting, nudging your hips like some clumsy, quiet dance choreographed by muscle memory.

He had toothpaste on the tip of his nose, he somehow hadn’t noticed. You didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” he said when you started toward the door, “do that thing?”

You paused. “What thing?”

“That thing where you brush my hair.” He said it like a question, but the way he handed you your own brush was anything but.

“You have a brush of your own,” you pointed out, stepping behind him.

“Yeah, but yours smells nice.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, gently tugging the brush through his tangled curls, starting from the ends like he’d learned to do after one too many snarls and yelps. He hummed- somewhere between a sigh and a purr, and watched you through the mirror, eyes soft and unfocused.

“You look like you’re being sedated.”

“I am sedated,” he murmured. “You’re like… a spell, sweetheart. Witchcraft. Domestic sorcery. I dunno how you do it, but I’m thirty seconds away from proposing over toothpaste and tangled hair.”

You tapped the side of his head with the brush.

“OW. Okay, fine. I’ll wait ‘til Wayne gives his blessing or whatever.”

He smirked, but there was something gentler behind it. A look you caught in the mirror and didn’t quite know how to name.

After you finished smoothing the last curls over his shoulders, he caught your wrist and pressed a kiss to the inside of it without a word.

Later, while gathering things to bring to Wayne's, Eddie wandered into your bedroom and came to a dead halt.

“Yo,” he said, voice full of something caught between reverence and glee. “Is this what I think it is?”

You turned to find him holding the Starfleet communicator badge replica that lived happily on your bookshelf. One of your childhood treasures, carefully dusted and displayed between a stack of dog-eared sci-fi paperbacks and a signed photo of Nichelle Nichols.

“I didn’t know you were a Trekkie,” he grinned, cradling the badge like it was made of glass.

“I had a thing for Spock, okay? The calm, the brains, the ears- don’t judge me.”

Eddie just stared at you like you’d invented warp drive.

“I’m not judging. I’m reevaluating my entire vibe to better align with your childhood dreams.”

You laughed, but he was still holding it, thumb tracing the smooth gold and silver curves with something close to awe.

“You kept this all this time?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. Guess I like remembering the stuff that made me happy.”

He set the badge down gently, then turned to look at you like he’d just connected a hundred invisible dots.

“I get that,” he said, quieter this time. “I really, really get that.”

Something passed between you- something warm and weightless that didn’t need defining yet.

Instead of calling it what it was, he just stepped closer, bumped your shoulder with his, and said:

“C’mon, Lieutenant. Let’s go feed Uncle Wayne.”

The Ride Over

The van smelled like old leather, weed, and the faintest hint of the pine air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror- Eddie’s version of “keeping the van clean” for company. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to some thrash metal song only he could hear in his head, glancing at you every few seconds like he was checking to make sure you hadn’t evaporated.

"You nervous?" he asked, voice casual, but his knee bounced like a live wire.

You shrugged. "Should I be?"

Eddie snorted. "Nah. Wayne’s cool. He’s, like... the opposite of intimidating. Unless you count his beard. That thing could bench press me."

You laughed, watching the trees blur past the window.

Eddie’s fingers flexed around the wheel. "He’s gonna love you, though. Like, instantly. Guaranteed."

"You don’t know that."

"I do," he said, grinning. "Because I love you, and Wayne’s got great taste."

The words hung in the air like a firework mid-explosion- bright, sudden, impossible to ignore.

Eddie froze.

You froze.

The van kept moving.

For a second, neither of you breathed.

Then Eddie cleared his throat, white-knuckling the wheel like it might save him. "Uh. So. That… that just happened."

You stared at him.

He swallowed hard. "I mean. It’s true. But also, y’know. No pressure. Zero. Negative pressure, even. Like, black hole levels of no obligation-"

You reached over and flicked the radio on, loud enough to drown out his rambling.

Eddie blinked. "Are you… are you ignoring me?"

You kept your eyes on the road, fighting a smile. "Yep."

He gaped. "Rude."

"Uh-huh."

"You’re supposed to say it back or freak out or something-"

You turned the volume up higher.

Eddie groaned, slumping in his seat. "Fuck. I didn’t even do it on purpose. That’s worse."

You finally cracked, laughing as you reached over to squeeze his thigh. "Relax.”

His leg stopped bouncing. His fingers loosened on the wheel. And for a second, the only sound was the muffled thrash of Metallica bleeding through the van’s shitty speakers.

Then he exhaled, long and slow, like he’d been holding his breath since the words slipped out.

"...So," he said, voice carefully light, "we just gonna pretend I didn’t say that?"

You shrugged, thumb tracing idle circles on his jeans. "I mean, you did say it."

"Yeah." A moment of silence passed. "Fuck."

You grinned. "Eloquent."

Eddie groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Christ, okay- look. I didn’t plan it. It just… happened. Like a sneeze. Or a crime."

"A crime?"

"You know what I mean," he whined, shooting you a glare that was more pout than menace. "It was an accident."

You arched a brow. "So you don’t love me?"

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "That’s not- ugh, fuck you-"

You laughed, loud and bright, and Eddie’s scowl melted into something softer, something fond, even as he grumbled under his breath.

"Asshole," he muttered, but his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You squeezed. He squeezed back.

And that was enough.

For now.

Wayne’s Trailer

Wayne Munson took one look at the two of you standing on his doorstep- Eddie holding a large tray of suspiciously shaped, lopsided pancakes, you clutching a grocery bag full of syrup, butter, and other foods and sighed.

"Boy," he said, voice dry as sandpaper, "you better not be proposin’."

Eddie choked. "Jesus, Wayne- no-"

Wayne just smirked, stepping aside to let you in. "Good. ‘Cause I ain’t cleanin’ up the mess when she says no. You can do better than that." He gestured to the sad pancakes.

Eddie spluttered. You laughed.

And just like that, the tension dissolved, replaced by the warm, easy chaos of a Munson family brunch.

The trailer was small but cozy, the kind of lived-in that spoke of years of familiarity and exactly zero pretense. A faded recliner sat in one corner like a throne of solitude, next to a battered side table piled with old Field & Stream magazines and a cracked coffee mug that read World’s Okayest Uncle. The kitchen was more kitchenette than anything else- tiny oven, wobbly table, mismatched chairs- but it was clean and smelled faintly of bacon grease and old coffee.

Wayne shuffled toward the counter, eyeing the tray Eddie had proudly set down with a level of suspicion usually reserved for roadkill or political promises.

"You used a mold for these?" Wayne asked, squinting.

Eddie looked genuinely offended. "Excuse you, I used a heart-shaped ring. It’s romantic. Show a little respect."

Wayne grunted. “Looks like the heart of someone with clogged arteries.”

You snorted into the syrup bottle, trying to play it cool as Eddie looked to you for backup.

"Tell him, sweetheart. They look like love."

You held up a pancake, tilted your head, and squinted. "...They look like a pair of lungs."

Eddie clutched his chest like you’d shot him. “Et tu, babe?”

Wayne just chuckled, already digging through the grocery bag you brought. "Least she brought the good butter. None of that margarine bullshit."

"You're welcome," you grinned, starting to unload the rest of the haul: a carton of eggs, bacon, orange juice, fresh strawberries, and a second bottle of syrup, just in case.

Eddie leaned back against the counter and watched you both with a look that was part amused, part quietly amazed. It wasn’t often he got to see his favorite people in the same room, not clashing, not pulling him in opposite directions, just… existing. Laughing. Teasing each other like they’d known each other forever.

Wayne cracked open the eggs into a pan like he was running a diner, throwing occasional looks over his shoulder at you. "So. How long you two been a thing?"

You and Eddie exchanged a glance.

Eddie shrugged. "It’s... complicated."

Wayne snorted. "Ain’t it always."

He didn’t push, just let the sizzle of the eggs fill the room as he fished a spatula out of a drawer that stuck every time it opened.

Eddie stepped beside you, bumped your hip with his. “You want coffee, or are you still pretending you prefer orange juice?”

"Both," you said, reaching for the mugs hanging by little hooks above the sink.

Eddie handed you his favorite one without a word- the black one with a skull on it that had a chip in the rim shaped suspiciously like Texas.

You poured coffee for all three of you, then reached for the strawberries. Eddie immediately popped one in his mouth, then fed another to you like you were in some badly scripted rom-com. You nearly choked laughing when he wiggled his eyebrows.

Wayne watched all of this like a man who'd seen some shit and was still somehow surprised. “You two are really somethin’.”

Eddie just grinned around a mouthful of berry. "It’s called romance, you wouldn’t know anything about that, old man."

Wayne flipped the eggs with surgical precision. “Keep flappin’ that mouth and you’re gonna be the one cleanin’ up.”

"You say that like it’s a threat," Eddie said, but he reached for a plate anyway.

The table came together in fits and starts- sloppy pancakes stacked with pride, Wayne’s eggs perfectly over-medium, strawberries in a chipped cereal bowl, syrup bottles sweating in the warmth of the little kitchen, and three steaming mugs of coffee that smelled like burnt toast and comfort.

Eddie pulled out a chair for you and sat so close your knees touched under the table.

Wayne served the eggs and bacon with a grunt, then took a seat himself, cracking his knuckles and settling in like it was the best part of his week.

And maybe it was.

No one said anything for a moment, just passed things around- butter, syrup, the strawberry bowl, more coffee. It wasn’t the kind of silence that begged to be filled. It was the kind that let you be.

Outside, the wind rustled leaves against the trailer. A car passed on the gravel road. Somewhere deep in the woods, a dog barked once and fell quiet again.

Inside, Eddie cut your pancakes for you when you weren’t looking, pretending he was doing it ironically. Wayne offered you hot sauce for your eggs like it was a test. You passed.

And just like that, you were part of something good.

The Brunch Aftermath

The syrup bottle was sticky in your hands, the kind of cheap, plastic squeeze-top that had seen better days. You wrestled with it for a second before Eddie reached over, plucked it from your fingers, and, without breaking eye contact, bit the cap off with his teeth.

Wayne didn’t even blink.

“You’re disgusting,” you informed him, watching as he spat the cap into his palm like a goddamn magician.

Eddie grinned, all teeth, and drizzled syrup over your pancakes in a slow, deliberate spiral. “And yet, you love me.”

Wayne snorted into his coffee.

You kicked Eddie under the table.

He yelped, then immediately retaliated by hooking his ankle around yours, trapping your leg against his like a goddamn predator. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know what.”

You took a bite of pancake, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. “These are better than they look.”

Eddie groaned, slumping back in his chair. “Cruel.”

Wayne watched the whole exchange with the weary amusement of a man who’d spent decades dealing with Eddie’s dramatics. He wiped his mouth with a paper towel, then pointed at Eddie with his fork. “Boy, you’re gonna scare her off.”

Eddie scoffed. “Nah. She’s stuck with me.”

You arched a brow. “Am I?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper just for you. “Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve seen your Star Trek collection. You’ve got standards, sweetheart. And I exceed them.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed.

Wayne sighed, pushing his plate away. “Christ. I need a cigarette.”

Eddie didn’t follow him out, but Wayne paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder.

“C’mon. Gimme a hand with somethin’.”

Eddie frowned, but stood anyway, brushing his hands on his jeans. “What, like… now?”

Wayne didn’t answer. Just jerked his head toward the porch and stepped outside.

Eddie gave you a what the hell shrug and followed.

On the Porch

The door creaked shut behind them, muffling the sounds of the kitchen- plates clinking, your soft humming, the distant buzz of a fly against the screen.

Wayne lit up with the weary efficiency of a man who’d smoked through wars- emotional and otherwise. He took one drag, let the smoke curl from his nose, then spoke without looking at Eddie.

“She’s a good one.”

Eddie blinked. “Yeah. I know.”

Wayne shot him a sidelong glance. “Do you?”

Eddie bristled. “Wayne, c’mon-”

“I’m serious.” Wayne took another slow drag. “You got that look.”

“What look?”

“The same one your dad used to get when he had a good thing and was about to fuck it up.”

Eddie flinched, visibly. “Jesus.”

Wayne shrugged, like the truth didn’t need to be dressed up. “I’m not sayin’ you’re him. You’re not. You’re better. But you get twitchy. Start thinking too hard. Over-explainin’. Over-correctin’. Tryin’ to make jokes outta things that matter.”

Eddie looked down at his boots. “I told her I loved her. In the van on the way over. By accident.”

Wayne grunted. “Figures.”

“She didn’t say it back.”

“She didn’t run away either.”

Eddie chewed on that in silence.

Wayne flicked ash over the railing. “You don’t need her to say it right now. You just need to act like it’s true. And not in some panic-ridden, look-at-me-doin’-my-best kinda way. Just… be good to her. Be real.”

Eddie dragged a hand through his hair. “I am being real.”

Wayne gave him a long, level look. “Then stop looking like you’re waitin’ for her to run.”

A breeze rustled through the trees. The porch boards creaked beneath their feet.

Wayne stubbed out the cigarette on the railing, tossed the butt into an old coffee can, and clapped Eddie on the shoulder.

“She’s the best thing to walk into this trailer since I got custody of your sorry ass. Don’t get clever about it. Just hold on.”

Eddie swallowed hard and nodded, throat tight. “Yeah. Okay.”

Wayne squinted at him. “You cryin’?”

“No.”

Wayne chuckled. “You fuckin’ better not be. Get back in there and do the dishes before she tries to help and sees how bad the sink leaks.”

Later, in the Van

Eddie was quiet for the first five minutes of the drive home, fingers drumming on the steering wheel to a rhythm only he could hear. The radio was off again. The windows were down. The air smelled like pine and gasoline and the faintest hint of the weed he’d smoked recently.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye- the way his jaw worked when he was thinking, the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck, the way his rings caught the sunlight.

He caught you looking. Smirked. “What?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Nothing.”

He snorted. “Liar.”

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “You’re just being usually quiet.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I already embarrassed myself once today, so I figured I’d cool it with the spontaneous declarations of undying love.”

You blinked.

He peeked over, grinning like it didn’t matter- like it was just a joke, just another bit, nothing serious at all.

But his fingers were white-knuckling the steering wheel.

You hesitated. Then: “It wasn’t embarrassing.”

Eddie glanced at you again, slower this time. The grin dropped a notch.

“It kinda felt like it.”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t. It was just… surprising.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, voice low, “sometimes it surprises me too.”

You smiled softly. “You actually love me?”

He let out a breath like he’d been holding it for years. “Jesus. Yes.”

And then: “Do you-?” He asked, looking at you again.

“I think you already know.”

“But I want to hear you say it.”

You bit your lip. “I do. I love you, too.”

The van slowed as he pulled up to a stop sign that led nowhere in particular. The world went still.

And then, just like that, his hand reached across the console and found yours.

“So…” he said, thumb brushing the back of your hand. “Are we, like… a thing now? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, sweetheart, I’m really bad at casual. And even worse at pretending I don’t want to scream it at every passing pedestrian that you’re mine.”

You laughed, heart tumbling over itself. “Yeah. We’re a thing.”

“A thing thing?”

You leaned over and kissed his lips. “The thingiest.”

Eddie beamed like someone had handed him the keys to the universe. “Cool. Awesome. No big deal. Just- uh- gonna have to, you know, update the ol’ social media status or whatever.”

You snorted. “Do you even have any kind of social media page?”

“I do not, but I will make one to tell the world you’re my girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t stop smiling. Not even when he floored it down the empty back road, cackling into the wind.

The van swerved slightly as Eddie took a sharp turn onto Cherry Lane, his free hand still gripping yours like he was afraid you'd vanish if he let go. His grin was wild, untamed- the kind that made his dimples dig deep and his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Girlfriend," he said, testing the word like it was some rare, precious thing. "My girlfriend."

You squeezed his hand. "You're gonna crash."

"Worth it."

The van rolled to a stop outside their apartment, but Eddie didn't move. He just sat there, staring at you like he was trying to memorize every detail- the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the curve of your smile, the way your fingers fit perfectly between his.

"You're smiling," he accused.

"So are you."

"Yeah, but mine's justified. I just got upgraded from 'that weird metalhead who won't stop failing at life to 'A Goddess’s boyfriend.' That's, like, a huge glow-up."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous."

Eddie leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "And yet, here you are. Voluntarily dating me."

"Regretting it already."

"Liar."

He kissed you then- quick, impulsive, and a little off-center because he was still grinning too hard to aim properly. When he pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, his lips still parted like he wanted to say more.

Instead, he just exhaled, shaky and bright.

"Fuck," he murmured, forehead resting against yours. "I really love you."

You kissed him again, slower this time, savoring the way his breath hitched when your fingers curled into the front of his shirt.

When you finally broke apart, Eddie looked dazed.

"...Okay," he said, voice rough. "New plan. We’re locking ourselves up in your room and never leaving again."

You snorted. "Your uncle’s gonna eventually wonder where you are."

Eddie groaned, tipping his head back against the seat. "Ugh, fine. But only because I owe him for not laughing in my face earlier."

He climbed out of the van, then immediately turned and offered you his hand like some cheesy gentleman from a period drama. You took it, laughing as he ushered you out with an affectionate grin.

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be tagged! And to which fandom. (Bayverse TMNT, Vegeta, Eddie Munson).

@justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55

Masterlist

36 notes · View notes

lyracarvahall · 3 months ago

Text

HeartBeat Sync Part 8

Part 7 Here

Meetings and Meet and Greets

As the men went down the hall, several staff members and security surrounded the group. The staff looked as her questioningly but looked at her pass and looked away again. One of the male staff members placed a hat onto Y/N’s head. She felt a couple of twinges of jealousy down the bond and saw Hongjoong and Wooyoung turn to glare at the poor staff member. San quickly came to the rescue.

“He was helping her get disguised. Quit worrying guys. Let’s go!”

They walked with a bit more urgency several feet ahead of her but she felt the anxiety cease and the excitement amp up as they came to the crowds lining both sides of an aisle, pushing against the barricades. The group waved and smiled at everyone, immediately getting to work. Y/N noticed that the staff seemed to split themselves to accompany each member. As Mingi was the closest in distance, she decided to tag along with him.

Mingi quickly got into the groove of it, signing a bunch of items and talking to all of the ATINY. This wasn’t the awkward man who was blushing at her mere minutes ago. Of course all of the women flirted with him, telling him how hot he was. Y/N knew his reputation as the flirt and braced for impact. He politely said thank you to everyone. He joked with a couple of girls and did some sexy dances. At first she felt pangs of jealousy but then realized that at the end of the day, he was hers. That settled her nerves and she felt his relief through the bond. The silent communication through their emotions was a nice thing right now in terms of secrecy.

He moved from group to group, following the same drill. Signing items, posing for pictures, a couple which unintentionally caught Y/N in the crossfire. After that she lowered the front of her hat to cover her eyes. She could also hear cheers and shouts from across the room as ATINY reacted to various members. She could not afford to distract herself and worry about the rest of the members. Mingi was handful enough.

As he started talking particularly long with an TINY and Yeosang was starting to catch up, Y/N was forced to put her hand on Mingi’s back gently to move him along so she didn’t have a soul encounter with Yeosang. Mingi went along willingly, saying goodbye to the ATINY he was speaking with. She, unfortunately, decided to retaliate. “Let him stay with me if he wants to, fatty!” Y/N Instantly tensed as did Mingi. She felt his muscles coil up under her hand and she looked up to see a look of controlled rage on his face.

“Mingi, it’s okay. It isn’t worth the drama. Let’s just go.”

Other ATINY began to boo the girl and shoved her towards the back of the crowd.

“See? It took care of itself. Let’s go.”

Mingi reluctantly moved on but not before shouting, “If anyone else has that ugly attitude, feel free to see yourself out the door. ATEEZ is here to support love of everyone.” The crowd cheered in response and it eased Y/N’s anxiety. She knew this would be an issue, especially once they knew she was their soulmate. The rest of the event went fairly smoothly. Picture, sign, pose, repeat. That is until Jongho trailed at the end of the line. Mingi was already done so him and Y/N were heading towards the exit. Y/N watched on as the rest of her soulmates signed as the unbonded had already left. Jongho was signing a photocard when a couple of screams broke out from the crowd. “Jongho has a soulmark too!” “Oh my god that security guard had one too!” “Which one?” “The one with Mingi I think.” The crowd started erupting louder.

The staff started surrounding Y/N and rushed Jongho to finish. The same man who gave her the hat shouted out “OKAY everyone! Thank you so much for coming! Let us give a round of applause for ATEEZ!”

The crowd erupted in cheers but Y/N could no longer see as she was rushed towards the exit with the boys. Mingi grabbed her waist and pulled her towards the garage, pulling her into the back of a white van with extremely tinted windows. He pulled her after him so he sat on the far left seat and she sat in the middle. He immediately pulled her into a passionate kiss. Suddenly a second set of hands gripped her waist as Wooyoung licked up the side of her neck. Y/N gasped as Hongjoong cleared his throat from the middle set of seats.

“As sexy as that was to watch, we can save it for later.” He sent Y/N a sassy wink and settled into the middle left seat with Jongho quickly hopping onto the middle right seat. Two staff took up the driver’s and passenger seats and as soon as everyone was buckled in, they were off. Y/N leaned forward to whistper to Hongjoong.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I…”

Hongjoong leaned back and kissed her softly, even though it was an awkward angle for him. “It is ok baby. Emotions are super high right now. I understand.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for his understanding and sat back in her seat. There was a lot of traffic leaving the arena so it was a much longer trip than she thought. The longer she sat between Mingi and Wooyoung, the more relaxed she felt. Eventually, she was lulled to sleep from the warmth of their bodies snug against her.

In what seemed like only a minute, she was jolted awake. Disoriented, she realized her head rested on Mingi’s shoulder and her feet rested in Wooyoung’s lap. Both of the men traced their fingers over their soul marks on her body. As soon as both realized she was awake, they checked her over to make sure she was okay. Mingi gently kissed the crown of her head and helped her sit up. “We are here honey.” He rumbled.

Y/N shook herself awake, blushing with the circumstances she caught herself in. Taking in her surroundings, she realized they were in yet another garage. It must be the hotel’s VIP entrance. Stretching as the other members exited the car, she realized something.

“Hey….where is my luggage?”

Everyone outside of the car chuckled at her as she pulled herself out of the van. The staff member, the one in her brain she was calling Hat Guy, enlightened her. “When the vans dropped you off earlier, we placed your luggage in your room. One of the other staff has your key.”

Y/N wasn’t used to having others do things like that for her. “Thank you.” She awkwardly stated and she power walked to catch up with the guys heading towards the private elevator. Once they got in they all stood in awkward silence as they rose to their floor. As they exited, a concierge awaited the group. The gentleman wore a maroon vest with gold trim and sported a thin mustache.

“Welcome everyone. I was informed of your arrival so figured you would like your keys now so you could make yourselves comfortable. A miss Lexi is already in her room in 1118. Yours is next door in 1117, madam.” He handed Y/N her key. The men got a set of two suites, each across the hall from each other. These were at the other end of the hall. Y/N assumed that the rest of the rooms on this floor were for the other staff members.

Y/N grasped her key and numbly made her way to her room nearby. Sliding her key card, she walked in and sat on her bed. Hongjoong hurried the boys along to their suites, sensing Y/N needed a moment to find her bearings.

Throwing herself on the comfortable bed, she was tempted to go back to sleep with how emotionally drained he was. Suddenly her phone vibrated. It was an invitation to a group chat. She quickly accepted knowing it had to be the guys.

All of the sudden there was a boom outside of the room. Y/N assumed that Jongho retaliated for San's sassy comment. Following there was a soft knock on her door. Yeosang stood on the other side of the door. A feeling of a soft breeze grazed her skin as a burn ran down her spine. Yeosang let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. The other members stood a fair distance away looking on in awe. Yeosang recovered and quickly took Y/N's hands in his. He began to guide them both towards the bed with her awkwardly walking backwards.

After she softly fell back to sit on the bed, Yeosang knelt in front of her. He had such a kind and gentle look in his eyes, which were partially covered by his bright red bangs.

"I didn't want you to be overwhelmed by meeting everyone in the hallway. I figured here at least there was space." He released her hands and placed them both on her shoulders, rubbing soft circles. The massage felt so good. Y/N didn't realize how much tension she was carrying and she relaxed and gently leaned into him. Yeosang pulled her into a strong hug.

"As much as I would love to keep you for myself, there are a few more men still in the hallway."

Y/N giggled and said "Sorry everyone!" she kissed Yeosang on the cheek and whispered in his ear in the embrace "Can you let them in please?"

Yeosang let out a deep rumbling chuckle she felt the vibrations of in her own chest. He grabbed her shoulders and gently eased her up so she was sitting upright once again. He then stood up quickly and made his way to the door of the room. Slowly, the three remaining men shuffled in and made their way to the other side of the room cautiously giving Y/N space. Yeosang had a light and airy grin on his face as he sat behind her on the bed. Jongho quickly joined her on the opposite side.

The next to cautiously make his way over was San. With slow and steady steps, He made his way towards her and sat criss-cross on the floor a couple of feet away. Looking her shyly in the eye, he reached his hand up to her. As he did, a bunch of butterflies made of light appeared to fly out of his hand. As they handed on her arm, a matching burning seemed to crawl across her left bicep.

The pair both stared in awe at the sight. He closed the distance and picked Y/N up, pulling her into his lap and kissing the side of her head.

"Oh sweetheart. I am so happy that fate chose you for me."

The words and the genuine affection in his voice touched her heart. Only one man remained. Yunho sat politely on the sofa on the other side of the room. Y/N decided she needed to be the one to take the initiative this time. Gently pulling back from San's tight embrace, she held his face in her hands and gently kissed him.

"Are you doing okay, Y/N? It isn't too much?"

"It is okay San. There is only one more today. Yunho deserves answers too."

San conceded and loosened his grip on her hips. She stood up and approached Yunho carefully.

"Hi Yunho. It is nice to meet you. Can I come and sit by you?"

Yunho shyly nodded with a big smile. She sat next to him and took his hand. As she gripped his fingers, the taste of an iced americano swept across her tongue. Yunho let out a loud "WOO!" and embraced her with both giant arms, putting her back against his chest. As his hands came around in front of her and clung to her hands, she saw the intricate branching of symbols circle their left wrists and down the center of the backs of their hands. There was still spece between it and Jongho's mark on the opposite wrist. Y/N sat entranced watching the symbols build themselves, despite the burn they brought across her skin. While Jongho's mark was thicker lines, Yunho's was thin and elegant.

Yunho seemed equally amazed as he placed his head on her shoulder. "This is proof of the magic this connection builds between us. I will look at it with gratitude every day." With that he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and took a moment to breathe in the scent of Y/N's hair.

Y/N soaked in Yunho's warmth for a moment longer as she looked around the room and saw her other soulmates looking at her with such care. She could feel their love pouring from their hearts and she took a moment to realized how blessed she was to be tied to these beautiful and sweet men for the rest of her life. Fate chose them for her and she had no idea how she deserved it.

Jongho, ever the stoic voice of reason, cleared his throat and broke Y/N out of her reverie.

"Darling, I hate to end this moment, but we need to organize the meeting. It is really late and we have to head back out tomorrow. Either that or we need to meet early tomorrow morning."

Y/N found herself dozing against Yunho and before she knew it she was falling asleep. Before she completely succumbed to the slumber, she heard Jongho laugh softly.

"Tomorrow it is I suppose."

Next Part here

#ateez x curvy reader #ateez x older reader #poly ateez #soulmates #poly ateez x reader

43 notes · View notes

kombuuuu · 2 years ago

Note

Miles (42) “that’s my baby” Morales.

You weren’t sure what happened.

One second you were running through the field, weaving through opposing team members, watching the ball at your feet and the goal ahead of you. Crowds of people cheering for your team, for your number.

And the next second, a sharp pain was kicked into your foot, and suddenly it could no longer hold your weight. Chin smashing harshly into the ground below you, only thing keeping your teeth from shattering being the mouth guard protecting them. And the crowds no longer cheering — a collective harsh breath being settled into eerie murmuring.

You pushed up by your hands, turning to sit, and the ringing in your ears made way, like an amp being pitched too loud and screaming in protest.

There was blood on you, from where — you couldn’t tell. And the dulled hum of far shouting could be made out through the fog. Cotton stuffed ears straining to understand.

The lights of the stadium were harsh against your eyes, and you tracked the movement of a flashlight the best you could.

A medic was above you, shining brightness over your view to check for concussion. She said something, hurriedly gesturing to your foot. And the pain that came from another medic touching it made you cry out.

You saw the flash of a red card, and a stretcher being pulled towards you.

But most importantly, you saw your boy. Your lover making his way over with a stressed look over his pretty features. Only to be stopped by security. You watched him shove his stadium issued VIP ID card towards them and rush passed the moment allowed to do so.

You were on the stretcher now, being carried toward an ambulance. Your hearing was coming back, the ringing not gone but quietened.

“Stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

You mumbled back, a splutter coming from the blood coating your throat and the mouth guard was gently taken from you.

Please don’t ruin this.

—

“You ever do that shit again, I’m beatin’ your ass.”

You snorted, punching your dads arm lightly in jest.

“Oh yeah? You gonna hurt me cause i’m hurt?”

“I’m gonna make that bastar—“

“She didn’t mean it!”

“It was a red card! Totally purposeful!”

“Nuh uh!”

He laughed, a throaty chuckle infectious to you.

“Don’t you ‘Nuh uh’ me, young lady.”

“Dad!”

A knock played at the door, bringing your attention to the shadow just outside. Your dad beckoned them in, calling to the door with a “Come in.”

Miles stepped inside, bowing his head respectfully to your dad before he made eye contact with you. And the worried shine in his eye was an immediate tell for your dad.

“I’ll give you two space.” He smiled at you softly, patting your shoulder and nodding at Miles as he rounded the door.

It was silent for a moment. Miles staring at you with an expression you couldn’t quite make out.

“Miles?”

As if your voice was the beckoning of a siren to the nearest fisherman, he was striding over to you in an instant. Calloused hands guiding your face left and right, examining your injuries and the bruises that coated your soft skin.

You stuttered a quick laugh, watching him fret over you quietly. “It’s not that bad, baby.”

“She did that on purpose.”

The sigh that left you was a fond exasperation. “Miles, she slid.”

“Into you.”

“The ground was wet!”

“Her fault..”

“Wha—!?”

He leant down. Kissing you sweetly, a quick thing — more to shut you up than anything. His love for kissing you was just a bonus.

He spoke against your lips, closed eyes and lovey smile.

“Ya’ tough though.”

You smiled back, a huff of a laugh leaving you, and Miles felt your cheeks warm under his touch.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“That’s my baby.”

#໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა #across the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles my beloved #miles molares #miles x you #miles morales headcanons #miles morales prowler #miles morales x you #miles g

741 notes · View notes

nervousd · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter Two - Settle For A Ghost

→ Infatuation | m.list

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#SYNOPSIS— Out in the forest the recoms find high value priosners

#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, unhealthy obsession, possessive behavior, abuse of power, yandere, dark quaritch, implications of dubcon/noncon, stalking, creepy behavior, possessive thoughts, implications of baby trapping, implications of unwanted pregnancy

#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch, Recom!miles quaritch

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Quaritch made his way through Pandora's jungle with his team behind. They were all on edge, tails and ears flapping agitatedly behind them. They raised their weapons as a pack of viper-wolves passed them; their yips and howls echoed. With weapons drawn the Recom squad expected a confrontation with the savages however they were proven wrong. The viper-wolves gave them a quizzical glance before scurrying away. His squad looked at each other in disbelief laughing as they lowered their weapons. Being in a blue body meant they weren’t seen as a threat. Z-Dog looked at Mansk, snickering ❝ No shit❞

They’ve trekked through the forest, slashing and cutting against the vines and roots that blocked their paths. Miles stumbled upon Site 26 a mobile link station for avatars were Jake sully resided alongside with Grace and other limp dick science majors. He alerted his team, giving them orders via hand signals. They’ve checked out the permitter shouting out ‘ clear‘ Miles headed towards the fallen AMP suit with two arrows sticking out. It was covered in vines and the wildlife of Pandora.

He crouched over the damaged suit, fingers turning the fletching of the arrow. His eyes were wide as he stared at the two green arrows jutting out. His ears dropped down a mixture of emotions in his eyes. He shifted his focus to the human remains of Quaritch, that had been left to decompose and rot. Colonel Miles Quaritch died here— gave one last official order demanding you to be buried with him. But the thought alone sickened him. This was the place he was going to bury you in, having given the order to kill once your cooperation with the RDA was finished. His tail flicked in frustration, just what more was he going to take from him? He understood— you weren’t his but you could be.

His ears perked up hearing a high pitched yell out in the distance, voices screaming out commands ❝ With me ❞ his hand briefly touched Lyle’s shoulder, gesturing him to follow his steps. Approaching his squad with his fingers twitching on the trigger angsty to see what got his comrades so riled up. ❝What have we here? ❞ Quaritch gazed at the na’vi carefully, eyes shifting to each hostage.

Lyle smiled cruelly, ❝ Hey, Colonel check it out— four fingers. We got a half breed ❞ he held up the girls palm, gesturing at her fingers. His gaze stayed on her for a second before shifting his focus to the na’vi kneeling on the ground ❝ Show me your fingers ❞ In a defiant action, the boy rose both of his hands flicking him off. Quaritch smirked, eyes crinkling in delight ❝You’re his, aren’t you? ❞ the na’vi barred his teeth, hissing out with his tail lashing behind him.

❝ You’re his, alright ❞ amused as he was there was unfathomable rage bubbling in his chest. He grasped the na’vi by the braid yanking him up. The na’vi let out a painful groan, hissing pathetically. Quaritch gazed down at him with disgust in his eyes ❝ Where is he? ❞ he gave a firm tug on his braid. The na’vi spoke in his tongue causing Quaritch to scowl. His ears pinned back, nose scrunching up in frustration. He uttered the same words in broken na’vi, yanking his braid once again earning a painful cry from the na’vi.

❝ Really? you wanna play it this way? ❞ he questioned frustratingly, having had enough of playing this game. Quaritch pulled out his dagger from his belt, lips pursing in anger. He threw the boy to the ground, walking towards the female na’vi. ❝ Kri! Hey! Hey, don’t touch her! ❞ the human boy shouted, trashing against the grip that held him back. Quaritch peered down at him, head tilting slightly. The boy seemed down right feral, dressing like the na’vi.

❝ What’s your name, kid? ❞ The human boy hesitated briefly, ❝ Spider— ❞ It was like the world stopped, eyes wide like saucers as he stared at the boy—no his son. His ears preened up, the boys words repeated in his head. Was this your son? His? He collapsed on his knees, gazing at the boy with child like wonder ❝ Miles? ❞ his voice was laced with disbelief ❝Nobody calls me that ❞ his son pursed his lips, he was obviously discomforted with the name ❝ I’ll be damned, We’ll I figured you’ll be with your mother — ❞ his voice trailed off

His eyes widen, tail perking up. If his son resided near this territory than wouldn’t you too? You were a responsible woman— you wouldn’t of let your son wander off too far. Even if you had resented him for the pregnancy you still had morals. His tail thumped against the ground a clear indication of his emotions ❝ Where is she? Where’s your mother? ❞ His son scoffed shaking his head, a clear sign of his refusal to answer. Quaritch jaw tightened, nostrils flaring as he stared his son down ❝ Where is she?! ❞ his voice was loud, thunderous so— even his own comrades flinched from his booming voice. His anger had transformed him into a different man—

Yet the boy had remained quiet. ❝ What are we doing boss? ❞ Lyle had snapped him back into reality— a cruel one at that. But no matter, he’ll have the boy singing like a canary of your whereabouts. ❝ Iron sky, Blue one, actual ❞ his fingers pressed against the comm, ❝ Blue one, Iron sky, send your traffic ❞ the response he had gotten back was quick, ❝ We are standing by for extract, over— Be advised we are bringing in high value prisoners ❞

❝ Sit tight blue one, we’re inbound to your pos—❞ Cutting off the mic short, Quaritch rounded up his squad, gesturing them to follow as they treaded back to site 26. ❝ Lyle get me some audio on this ❞ With a few buttons to click on his holopad, he could finally hear the squabbling of his predecessor along with the feral hisses of— ❝ that’s Sully’s woman ❞ Lyle peered at the tablet, agreeing with his colonel ❝ she’s an animal ❞ His face scrunched up in obvious distaste, forwarding to where Jake had fought his predecessor on this very ground they stood on ❝ Give it up Quaritch ❞

The tablet zoomed in on Jake, ❝ It’s all over ❞ Jake gestured towards the obvious lost the humans took. ❝ Nothings over while I’m breathin ❞ His ears pinned back, almost wincing as the fight went on. Two arrows pierced Quaritch— the video log had ended abruptly. Lyle took the tablet from his hands, peering at the colonels dazed look ❝ Yeah there’s nothing else after that ❞

Quaritch leaned down picking up his predecessor skull, inspecting the three scars that ran through his skull. He grimaced— if he didn’t know any better it was like he was staring at his own future. Will his fate turn out like this too? Left to rot in this jungle, decomposing with predators nipping at his corpse. His ears flattened against his skull— no that won’t happen to him. His predecessor failed to kill Jake sully. He was weak— he was Human.

Lyle picked up the fallen dog tag on the floor ❝ want us to recover these remains? ❞ Quaritch brought up the skull at eye level gazing at it with intensity. Putting the slightest amount of pressure on the skull was enough for it to crumble. He swiped off the leftover debris from his palms ❝ No ❞ his answer was short and brief, there was no point in dwelling about this.

The sun was setting fast, night drawling in; bringing in the horrors that Pandora can bring. Yips and howls had everyone on edge, the recoms took a formation, eyeing the forest with hostility. Drizzle poured down on them, pelting on the ground leaving an ominous sound. Soon the drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. The atmosphere around them was tense, each Recom was on edge. And for a good reason too— ❝ Shut up! ❞ without a second to lose the Recom was shot dead with a green fletching arrow. He dropped on the ground with a loud thud, ❝ Contact na’vi! ❞

Bullets shot at the tree bark , splinters flying off by the rapid fire. The na’vi boy grasped onto a canteen and ripped out it’s pin, green smoke erupting from the metal can. The Recom let out a pained scream as the na’vi sunk down its canines in their flesh. Out of pain they let go of the na’vi boy, cradling their injured arm. Another green fletching arrow pieced a female Recom, her body fell flat on a fallen log. Quaritch retreated with the rest of the recoms, grasping onto Walker’s vest he brought her down to him. To his dismay she was dead on impact,

His eyes zoned in towards the arrow, the green fletching mocking him. His ears tipped back an unrecognizable look crossed his face. His canines flashed, ❝ Is that you Miss Sully? I’ve recognized your calling card. Why won’t you come on out? You and I— we’ve got some unfinished business ❞ he called out behind the tree, gripping onto his gun tighter ❝Demon! I will kill you as many times as I have to! ❞ she yelled back at him with venom laced in her voice. ❝ I see you and the Corporal have been pretty busy, haven’t you? Dropped yourself a whole litter of half-breeds ❞ Shots continued to be fired, bullets whizzed through the air.

Quaritch crept forward silently, pouring out bullets, he was on their tails and he refused to go back empty handed. Quaritch fingers hovered over the trigger, eyes narrowing on Miles running away with a female na’vi. The gun shot rang out with a loud, Boom! momentarily blinding everyone in the process. His ears perked up hearing a painful moan coming up further, he slid across the mud. Quaritch cradled the injured boy to his chest, gimmick and blood coating his human flesh. He was clearly wounded and even showed signs of distortion. ❝ Fall Back! ❞ he yelled out

He threw the boy over his shoulders, retreating with his squad. Ahead of them was the their designated carrier, strapping the hook against his vest he was lifted upwards.

━━━━━━━━━━

The doors shut behind him as he inhaled through his respiratory mask. He leaned down placing both hands on his knees, grimacing as he stared at the boy, he had blood trickling down his nose, rocking his body underneath the table. His footsteps led him to the other side of the table, crouching low; to his utter surprise the boy lashed out and leaned towards the opposite side heading towards the door. ❝Woah— Woah! Easy tiger— easy ❞ with his Supreme agility and strength it wasn’t hard to stop Miles from taking another steps further.

He pressed his palm flat against his chest as Miles continued to trash and fight against him. He spat and hissed at him like a feral cat before ultimately stopping his actions. His strength was no match to that of a na’vi let alone someone with combat experience. Quaritch withdrew his hand back, taking a couple of steps back. His hands were raised in the air hoping to appear non threatening to the boy ❝ We good? ❞ Spider scoffed, he turned his head away refusing to make eye contact with him. Quaritch kneeled down on one knee, ❝ Kid, you got heart. Those science pukes leaned on you pretty hard. But you gave them nothin’. I respect that ❞ There was a brief silence along with the clinking of metal, Quaritch hesitated briefly before outstretching his palm. There in the center of his palm was the dog tag of his predecessor ❞ I thought you might want this ❞

Silence once again, it seemed the boy was intent on remaining quiet. Inhaling through his nose, Quaritch was fed up with his refusal to speak— hell at least acknowledging him would at least count for something. He took the boys hand and slapped down the dog tag on his palm. He curled up his hands into a fist, giving a squeeze. ❝ That’s Colonel Miles Quaritch— Deceased, Killed in Action ❞ he gestured towards the dog tag.

Spider threw the tag across the room even daring to make eye contact with him as he did it. As a show of defiant towards him. His lips quirked up in amusement, outstretching his hand towards the discarded tag he picked it up, thumb brushing agaisnt the cold metal. Perhaps maybe you would want it. He dared himself to even think of you wearing it, a ghost of a smile curling up his lips. He turned back towards spider, ❝ I’m not that man but I do have his memories enough to know that well— he wasn’t always a good man but that’s not an apology to the na’vi ❞ he settled himself beside him.

❝ I’m not your father. Technically you and I, were nothin’ to each other but I can help you. I can get you outta here. I’m not gonna ask you to betray Jake Sully. I know you’ll never do that. You’re loyal and I admire loyalty. Just ride along otherwise, I gotta give you back to the lab coats. ❞ It seemed his words had managed to pierce into the boys head, had finally managed to wrap his head around his situation. He nodded slowly, agreeing to his proposal. Quaritch cleared his throat, palms rubbing down his legs in agitation ❝ I gotta ask— your mother, how is she? ❞

It seemed his words had managed to cause discomfort to the boy, he hesitated before mumbling incoherent words under his breath. Quaritch frowned, ears twitching, he didn’t quite catch his words ❝ repeat that again for me ❞ Spider rolled his eyes, ❝ I don’t know ❞ Quaritch looked at him in bewilderment ❝ You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know? ❞ Spider shrugged, ❝ I don’t know where she is ❞ A blank emotionless expression swept over his face as the realization of his words sunk in.

Just where could you be? Why wouldn’t you be with his son? You wouldn’t abandon him would you? Impossible— no. You were overjoyed to be pregnant with his child. He was sure of it— thinking back to the memories that were gifted to him he remembers your tear stricken face. They were tears of joy he was sure of it. He doubt the boys words were true, choosing to lie instead of telling the truth. Nostrils flaring, he stood up from the table, fist clenched at his sides. ❝ Don’t worry I’ll find her— for the both of us ❞

→ Tag List

668 notes · View notes

collapsedglasshouses · 25 days ago

Text

LOST IN ALL THE CITY LIGHTS

CHAPTER SIX aka No Time To Talk ♫ PAIRING: Vinny x Jean (f!singer) ♫ SUMMARY: Jean, part-time streamer and programmer, and her band Join Me In Pieces are invited to be the support for Motionless in White at their upcoming US tour. Adding to her anxiety about meeting the people she had been a fan of for over a decade at this point, is the fact that the internet seemingly seems to think that her and Vinny would be a perfect match. ♫ WARNINGS: SLOW BURN, Jean being an anxious mass for weeks straight, swearing, corny af, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, eventually smut (specific warnings at the beginning of the chapters), too much tension too little spoken words, MDNI, 18+ ♫ A/N: Here is the chapter I promised. Hope you enjoy and if so, consider reblogging. Thank youuu ♡

MASTERLIST || MASTERPOST

The venue was alive, buzzing almost, with a kind of chaotic electricity that seeped into every crack of the walls and settled deep into Jean’s bones. It wasn’t just noise; it was anticipation almost making her crack. The thrum of amps being tested, the distant pounding of a bass drum, people shouting over each other as they maneuvered heavy pieces of stage equipment through narrow corridors. That all mixed together into one tangled mess of pre-show adrenaline.

The day had really come. Their first big tour.

The magnitude of it hadn’t truly hit her until she had stepped foot inside the venue that morning. She’d seen photos, sure. Watched videos of bands playing crowds that size. Had been in crowds that size. But standing there - feeling the sheer size of the space, staring into the empty pit that would sooner than later be filled with thousands of screaming fans. It hit her differently. It was terrifying.

You’re fine, she told herself. You’ve rehearsed. You’re ready. You can do this.

But as the hours ticked by, the cracks started to show.

Mars’s guitar rig wasn’t working.

“What do you mean it’s dead?” Mars’s voice was tight, hovering on the edge of full-blown panic. “It worked yesterday! What did you do to it, Callum?”

Callum, who was already sweating through his shirt, threw his hands up defensively. “I didn’t do anything! Maybe if you didn’t treat your gear like a punching bag—”

“I didn’t touch it the wrong way, you idiot! It’s your fault if—”

Jean tried to block them out, focusing on her own checklist. She didn’t have time for Mars and Callum’s usual pre-show bickering.

Except then… “Hey, uh… Jean?”

She turned to see Will hovering awkwardly, clutching a half-empty bag of chips like a life raft. His eyes were wide with panic. “So, funny thing… I think they forgot to pick up our merch shipment.”

Jean blinked. “They what?”

“I thought this was handled. I know I was responsible for it. I’m sorry!” Will stammered, gesturing wildly with the chip bag. “But now I’m not sure, and I tried reaching out, but then everything got busy, and-”

“Will, breathe,” Cat interrupted, rubbing her temples and pacing the small backstage area like she was preparing for battle. “We’ll figure it out. It’s not like the fans will riot if they can’t get a T-shirt on night one — right?”

Jean didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Every nerve in her body felt like it was stretched to its breaking point. Her hands trembled as she double-checked the list Will gave her, her mind racing with every possible way tonight could go wrong.

If we mess up, it’s on me.

That thought hit harder than anything else.

“Okay, no,” Jean said suddenly, cutting through the tension. “We’re not just going to hope it works out. Will, give me the supplier’s info.”

Will blinked at her. “You… you’re going to call them? Now?”

Jean extended her hand, her jaw tight. “Yes. Now. We still have a couple of hours before doors open. If there’s any chance we can fix this, we’re going to try.”

Will handed over his phone, and Jean quickly scanned through the contact list until she found the supplier’s number. She hit call, putting it on speaker for everyone to hear.

One ring. Two rings. Three—

“Hello?”

Jean didn’t even let relief settle in. “Hi, this is Jean from Join Me In Pieces. We were supposed to receive our merch shipment today… it was meant to be here by noon. We need to know where it is.”

A pause. Then- “Oh… uh. Yeah, I think we’ve got that shipment still in the warehouse. No one came to pick it up.”

Will let out a strangled noise of pure panic.

Jean clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. “We were told it would be delivered. We’re on a strict timeline here - we’re playing our first show tonight. Can we pick it up now?”

Another pause. “If you can get here within the hour, sure. But we close at five.”

Jean ended the call, already moving. “We’re going. Now.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jean was in a van with Cat behind the wheel and Will squished into the back, looking like he might combust from stress at any second.

“This is a disaster,” Will muttered for the tenth time, hunched over with his head in his hands. “I screwed everything up.”

Jean turned in her seat to face him. “Hey. You didn’t screw everything up. We’re fixing it. That’s what matters.”

Cat snorted from the driver’s seat. “Yeah, and besides, if someone’s gonna screw something up, at least it wasn’t a guitar rig mid-set. You’re not the worst offender today.”

Will gave a weak laugh, but Jean could see how much it was eating at him.

“Seriously,” she added, softening her tone. “We’ve got this. We’re not gonna let missing merch ruin our first show. We’ve worked too hard for this moment.”

The rest of the drive was a blur of tense silence and bad music blasting through the speakers in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

By some miracle, they made it to the warehouse with fifteen minutes to spare. The supplier handed over the boxes with a shrug, clearly unaware of how much chaos this delay had caused.

Cat helped load everything into the van, while Jean kept Will focused, grounding him with small, encouraging words.

“This show’s gonna be fine,” Jean said as they strapped the last box in place. “We’ll get back, set everything up, and it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”

Will nodded, breathing a little easier now.

They made it back just in time to unload everything and scramble to set up the merch booth with the help of some of the crew before the doors opened. The adrenaline from the mad rush didn’t fade - it just morphed into the sharp, electric anticipation of the show itself.

Backstage was pure chaos again.

Mars’s rig was working—somehow. Callum had managed to work some last-minute magic with the tech crew.

Jean took a moment to breathe, surrounded by her band, the hum of the crowd on the other side of the walls growing louder by the second.

“This is it,” Cat said, resting a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “We’re about to play our first big show.”

Jean nodded, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. “Yeah. And it’s going to be good.”

No more distractions. No more panic. Just the music, the moment, and the thousands of people waiting for them to take that stage.

The chaos was behind them now. It was time to play.

As their band began warming up, Jean spotted Vinny for what felt like the first time that day. He was completely in his own zone. Headphones on, sticks spinning effortlessly between his fingers as he ran through warm-ups. His focus was intense, laser-sharp, and something about that made it impossible to look away.

About ten minutes later, everything was like a pressure cooker of nervous energy.

Their band gathered in a tight huddle, the air thick with anticipation. The distant roar of the crowd bled through the walls, a reminder of just how real this was.

Mars tried to break the ice. “Okay, new rule: nobody trips over their own feet tonight. Especially you, Callum.”

Callum shot her a glare. “Fuck off. I haven’t tripped since-”

“Yesterday,” Will helpfully supplied, eyes wide and still stress-eating his chips.

Jean forced a laugh, but her heart was pounding like a war drum. Every beat counted down the seconds until they had to step on stage and prove themselves.

Ten minutes.

Five minutes.

One minute.

And then - like some cruel twist of fate - Vinny appeared. Out of nowhere.

“Hey.”

Jean blinked, thrown completely off balance. “Hey-”

He stepped closer, voice low and steady in the chaos. “You’re gonna kill it.”

Just like that, the noise around her seemed to fade. For a second, it was just him - the warmth in his voice, the unexpected softness in his eyes.

She didn’t even get the chance to respond before their tour manager’s voice cut through the moment. “Jean! You’re up - now!”

Her feet moved on autopilot, carrying her toward the stage, but her mind stayed behind with him.

The spotlights hit like a tidal wave, blinding and immediate.

The crowd’s roar was deafening, a wall of sound that slammed into Jean’s chest and nearly knocked the breath out of her. Thousands of voices, thousands of eyes - it was overwhelming in the most stomach twisting way.

The first few notes of the opening song rang out, her band launching into the set with practiced precision. But for Jean? Everything blurred together.

Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out the music. Every lyric felt heavier than it should. Every movement felt too calculated, like she was stuck inside her own head.

Don’t screw this up. Don’t screw this up.

But by the second song, something shifted.

The nerves didn’t disappear entirely, but they dulled, melted away into the rhythm of the music. Her body remembered what her mind had forgotten: You’ve done this a thousand times before. You belong here.

Her voice found its strength. Her confidence returned in waves with every beat, every chord, every cheer from the crowd.

By the time they hit their final note, the audience’s reaction was thunderous—an eruption of pure energy that left Jean breathless.

They had done it.

The moment they stumbled off stage, drenched in sweat and high on adrenaline, the backstage area exploded with chaotic celebration.

Mars threw an arm around Jean’s shoulders, grinning ear to ear. “Holy shit. We didn’t die!”

Callum laughed, though his face was pale. “I almost threw up, but yeah. That was insane!”

Will looked like he might actually cry, clutching his drumsticks to his chest. “We did it. We actually did it.”

Everyone was buzzing, energy bouncing off the walls like static electricity. But as the others celebrated, Jean’s eyes drifted, drawn like a magnet toward the other side of the stage.

Motionless in White was preparing for their set.

And there he was.

Vinny caught her gaze.

He didn’t say anything. No teasing smirk, no playful comment; just a soft, knowing smile. The kind that settled under her skin and lingered there.

Jean stayed side-stage, tucked into the shadows as Motionless in White took over the crowd.

It was one thing to admire them as a fan - to listen to their albums, to watch videos, but seeing them live, this close? It was something else entirely.

The raw power of their sound reverberated through the venue like an earthquake. The energy was feral, electric, every beat pulsing through the floor beneath her feet.

And then there was him.

Watching Vinny behind the drum kit was… something else. The way he moved - fluid, precise, effortless. His entire body was locked into the rhythm, every muscle working in perfect sync with the music.

Jean tried really hard not to notice the way his arms flexed with every hit of the snare.

She failed. Miserably.

By the time MIW’s set ended, the post-show buzz had started to fade.

The adrenaline was still there, but more muted now, humming quietly in the background like a song she didn’t want to end.

She wandered aimlessly backstage, lost in her own head, when she heard footsteps behind her.

“So… you survived.”

She turned to find Vinny standing there, sweat-soaked, the body paint on his arms not as covering as it was before and breathless from his own set.

Jean let out a soft laugh, the tension she didn’t realize she’d been carrying easing from her shoulders. “Barely.”

There was a pause. Not awkward - comfortable, surprisingly. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled.

And then - softly, almost too quiet to hear - Vinny said, “Told you you’d kill it.”

She smiled, rolling her eyes. “You say that like you weren’t waiting for me to crash and burn.”

He hesitated.

“Nah,” he said, quieter this time. “Never doubted you.”

Something in his voice made her throat go dry.

Jean opened her mouth to respond, but Vinny had already turned away, heading back toward the others – like he hadn’t just said something that completely short-circuited her brain.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

TAGLIST: @ladyveronikawrites @sitkowski @deathblacksmoke

@bugseatmesoon @circle-with-me @measuredingold @cncohshit @jilliemiw86

@exitwoundsx @vinyardmauro @devilsfuckingdance

#✧.* lost in all the city lights #vinny mauro x oc #vinny mauro x female oc #motionless in white fanfiction #motionless in white fanfic #motionless in white fic #vinny mauro fic #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny mauro fanfiction #collapsedglasshouseswrites

20 notes · View notes

whenlostinthedarkness · 2 years ago

Text

Afterglow: Chapter 1 - What I Want

Leader Singer!Reader x Lead Guitarist!Ellie Williams

Summary: You and your band, This Way To Jackson, are headlining your very first tour across the US. Dina, the bass & keys player, Jesse the drummer, Ellie the lead guitarist, and you, the lead singer and back up guitarist, are finally living out the dream you've all always wanted.

Warnings: Some mentions of past relationship drama, but I think that's it.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This chapter introduces the band and the vibe/energy of their live shows. You also get some background into how the band started as well as reader & Ellie's relationship prior to their breakup. Highly suggest listening to What I Want by MUNA to get fully immersed in the experience…and because it’s a great song lol. Listen here.

Chapter Two >>

The lights, the crowd cheering loudly, the fast paced backstage area as you and your band, This Way To Jackson, made your usual walk in unison to side stage ; you found you never grew tired of this high-like feeling.

The moment the crowd started buzzy with anticipation, your mind switched from day-to-day you, to stage persona you. In order to maintain this feeling of energy and excitement, you kept your body bouncing on the balls of your feet, amping yourself up for tonights show that would start in a mere minute or two.

A soft tap on your shoulder took you out of your thoughts as you spun around, coming face to face with your tour manager Annalise.

Silently, you smiled before turning around to get your ritual two second shoulder rub from her and whispers of good luck that she liked to spread around to each member of your band ever since you all had your first show after getting signed to a label.

After Annalise gave her words and a light pat to your back, you turned back around, coming face to face with the other two members of the band-Dina, Jesse, and Ellie-as you all huddled in closer to one another as you prepared for your other infamous nightly ritual of yelling something obscene that usually had nothing to do with the situation at hand, yet always got a big wave of positive energy out of each of you.

You lowered your in-ear so it rested limply along the side of your face as you moved your hand into the center of the circle you and your bandmates had made. One by one, Dina, Jesse, and Ellie followed as you all looked up with smiling faces at one another as you stood in a circle.

"Your turn Ellie," you shouted above the loud chants of the crowd that were just beyond the small entry way that was formed by the steel stage brackets.

Ellie nodded as everyone brought their heads in even closer to each other as the waiting in anticipation for tonights chant began.

"Alright...When I say tits-“

Your expression read “dear god” before Ellie could even finish her statement with that look of mischievous pride in her face.

“-you say ass! Got it?", Ellie finished.

There was a small pause after Ellies outrageous idea of a chant that you knew she had spent precious time conjuring up in her mind-too much time in fact. All of you shared knowing looks and childish grins and giggles before Ellie shouted the start of the chant.

"Tits?"

"Ass!"

"Tits?"

Ass!"

The chant went on for a couple more rounds, all of you screaming the words 'tits' and 'ass' back and forth and moving your hands up and down in unison before giving one final bump of your hands in the air. With an expression of joy on your lips and in your eyes, all of you shook your hands in the air in a jazz hands motion before ending the before-show huddle with a round of applause from all of you.

"How long did it take you to think of that one?"

Ellie turned around at the sound of your voice, just after picking up her trusty red Les Paul and situating the guitar strap around her shoulder.

"You're just jealous I thought of it first," she mused with a shit eating grin while grabbing the guitar pick that was in her hand and sticking it in between her lips as she made one last tuning adjustment to her instrument.

With a soft smile and light brush of your hand along the bare skin of Ellie's arm, you sat off to the side to allow the other members in the band to take their places before you made your grand entrance.

The venues lights turned from a dimmed, warmth shade of orange, to completely black, making the screams of the crowd take over the noise within the 5,000 capacity venue that was full of people that were all there to see you and your band perform on your next stop of a sold out tour.

The deep one note bass of the pre-recorded entrance music began in time with the bright blue stage lights, causing the crowd to grow even more in volume. Most attendees were either watching in amazement, reach for their phones to record or take a photo, or doing a combination of both. You always found it intriguing how these people were anxiously attempting to record a once in a lifetime memory on their phones, meanwhile this was your job. This was your dream that you got to live out all while taking your your best friends along for the ride.

A rush of joy came over you, making you grin from ear to ear just as your band came to stand inches away from the stage left entrance.

"Go get em", you yelled over the music as they began their decent into the dark fog filled stage.

You knew their shadows must've become visible through the man made smoke as the yells from the crowd turned into full on screams. This energy made every single one of the band members get drunk and full on this feeling of being desired for an art form each of them loved doing.

Dina took her place first, stage right, with her bass in hand as she stood behind the keyboard and microphone. Jesse followed directly behind her and took a seat at the elevated drum kit that had the bands logo printed largely on the kick drum. Last, but certainly not lease, following directly behind Jesse was Ellie with her electric guitar in hand as she took stage left, directly behind the microphone stand that was fitted to her height perfectly.

Dina started things off by holding her fingers down on the keys, creating a chord that vibrated throughout the spacious venue as the lighting shifted along with each note, making the music come to life in visual form.

It was like the venue was alive with a thriving pulse as the stage lights became brighter, giving a clear view of each of the musicians as they were firmly set in their places on the stage.

Before you made your entrance at every show, you couldn't help but peak over to get a glance at the crowd full of various faces. It was absolute insanity to you that this many people with this many separate lives had all somehow made their way into this venue to congregate over a common interest. The fact that it was your band that was the common interest of these literal thousands of people from all over the country truly never sunk into your head as reality. Your bandmates would agree with you without falter.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, one particular face caught your eye. A girl stood at the barricade, who was undeniably attractive, even from the long distance and obscured view of the brightness of lights and smoke. She held a white medium poster that said, "Ellie can I have your guitar pic?" with a few hearts adoring the written words.

You felt it again. That fucking dropping feeling in your chest that you hated to admit existed, in fact you loved to pretend what you were feeling was nothing out of the ordinary...but who knows. You had a show to put on and didn't have to deal with this feeling this time around-something you were extremely thankful for.

Now, the band was in full swing as each of the members- Dina, Jesse, & Ellie, began playing the chord heavy intro music that never failed to get the crowd excited for the rest of the evenings performance.

Right on cue, the heavy music came to a near halt, except for the catchy, disco-like beat that was familiarly in their song 'What I Want'.

This was your cue.

The crowds voices rose, igniting a level of validation and nerves and confidence all swirling into one as you made your way onto the stage for the first time that night with both of your arms raised in the air.

You'd never know, and Ellie thought you would never care, about how much she loved watching you come on to the stage every single night. The sheer, raw joy on your face as walked or skipped or danced out with confidence and looked out into that crowd always made a massive smile appear on Ellie's face and an internal leap form in her heart. One that she too liked to pretend didn't exist..maybe it was just a friendly gesture.

Ellie didn't think she would ever get over how the band started with you and her in your dorm; an acoustic guitar in her hands and a pen in yours. Granted things were very different now than it was back then. Now, you were playing to thousands of people on a nightly basis, back then, you were lucky if you could get 5 people, who weren't drunk of their ass, to catch your open mic performance.

Back then you and Ellie were also reveling in the 'helplessly in love college students' feeling and attached to the hip..now, one could still say you both were attached at the hip, but a lack of commitment on Ellie's end and frustration on yours eliminated the kissing and any hope for romance in both of your future together. Now, you were just friends..and Ellie had a girlfriend who she loved very much.

As you made it to center stage, standing directly behind the microphone and straight down the middle of a bright pink light, you felt alive. It was like your exact purpose in life was to do the very thing you were currently doing as your lips graced the very top of the microphone and your hand wrapped around the bottom of it to steady yourself. The second you sang the first word, thousands of voices joined in as you all created a harmonious chorus together.

Your bright smile covered your face as you looked out into the sea of people. Some dancing, some yelling, some standing still and observing the every move of your band for the first time.

Meanwhile, as you looked out of the corner of your eye, glancing from the left to the right, you could make out each of the band members on either side of you. All of you synced together in rhythm as you moved along to the upbeat song that was born to blare at 2am in a gay bar.

Suddenly, Ellie came clear into view on your left side as she simultaneously walked in front of her microphone stand and played her instrument, until she was stopped just at the edge of the stage. Your lips moved along to the words of the song that was basically muscle memory at this point, as your concentration was soon taken over by something else-someone else.

The screams on stage left grew significantly louder as Ellie’s fingers remained strumming on her guitar while she peered out into the crowd of adoring fans.

Ellie was definitely seen as the most popular member of the group, something you honestly didn’t look too far into because you recognized why. Her energy was contagious on stage as she always moved along with the music, gave the appropriate amount of attention to the audience, and knew when to play it up on stage with her other band members in order to gain a positive reaction from the crowd.

While you had been got in a trance like stage, Dina had moved out from behind her keyboard and over to you as she gently nudged you with her hip. With wide eyes, you were suddenly brought back while Dina looked at you curiously, mouthing 'you okay', to which you nodded and masked a smile on your previously straight lined lips.

As the crowd screamed the pre chorus lyric “Thats Just What I Want!” back at you, you found yourself back to being fully aware of your surroundings and back to being one with your stage person..not whoever that person was.

Infectiously, your body moved along with the music as you jumped around the stage while singing the chorus to the queer joy power anthem. Your body first took you to stage right as you sang to the crowd, spending extra time with them to make the performance personal. Then, you made your way to stage left, making eye contact with Ellie as you took the nearly skipping steps over in her direction.

Taking the hint, Ellie moved backwards and in towards the center of the stage, allowing you to move in front of her so you could sing to the concert attendees on the opposite side of the stage.

She watched the way your leathered outfit hugged your form as you jumped to the words of the chorus, but she never let herself linger for too long. It wasn't a secret to others that you and Ellie used to date, she wasn't one to stir that drama up even if she was admiring you in a not so friendly way.

Either way, it was harmless. You were her ex girlfriend so of course, if she found you attractive back then, she was still going to find you attractive now. Especially if you weren't the one who ruined the relationship in the first place-she had zero bad blood to hold above your head.

As the last chord of the song was hit, all of you stood on that stage with smiles on your faces as you attempted to catch all of your breaths. The vibrations of the screaming and applauding crowd hit each one of you and intertwined with the bass of your instruments.

This feeling never got old, and neither of you could ever imagine getting use to it or anything coming in between that dream.

---

A/N: Let me know what you think 👀

#ellie williams #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #the last of us part 2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou 2 #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie x reader #the last of us part ii #the last of us part two #afterglow

260 notes · View notes