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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

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Eddie x Fem! reader

master list

the conversation of the century finally happens, grab your tissues.

**edited to add as a content warning— the major character death I talked about in chapter 12— happens within this chapter, if we remember, Tooty experienced heavy trauma to her abdomen……… this story has never and will never be a pregnancy fix all trope. — sorry it wasn’t labeled correctly the first time. **

no minors 🔞, talk of trauma, another traumatic event, miscarriage

a/n: this is a shorter chapter the next one will be longer and not out as soon. Thank you again to @sweetsweetjellybean for beta reading for me and helped me tweak this chapter @blueywrites who helped me months ago come up with this plot. And @jo-harrington who helped also. This story would be nothing without all the people liking and reblogging it— so T H A N K Y O U for continuing to read it even when it got dark, when weeks went by and there wasn’t an update in sight, I appreciate each and every single one of you. Here’s to our two dumbasses, finally figuring it out 🥂

“Eddie.”

Your throat was bruised and weak. The slow painful flick open of your swollen eyes have you paralyzed with doubt.

Deceiving sight of a beaten man sitting in front of you with a hard cast covering his right hand, the fingers are deeply swollen and bruised, the nails tinged with dried blood.

This wasn’t a version of Eddie you had seen before.

His normal pale skin is purpling and raised around his cheek and left eye. His top lip is split and agitatedly red against black stitches, probably from him picking at it.

He was handsome, even with his face twisting into relief and sorrow. Tears flow down the colorful sunset painting of healing and broken skin on Eddie’s face. He stands quickly, leaning over you carefully.

Quivering, timid hands reach for your cheeks, realizing the cast would probably scratch or scrape you, he settles for one hand laid dainty on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin like a ghost.

The dark pools of his eyes pull you in as his tears fall freely, and your heart begins to sew itself whole again. As his lips meet your hairline he whispers a cut off sob of his worries. Your tears flow with his. Merriment of grief and comfort as you cry into his shirt. Wishing you could live in this moment forever.

A dark wave full of emotions crash down on you all at once. The joy of seeing Eddie mixing with shame and guilt over what he must have braved while defending you. Finally, confusion on what exactly had happened and how you both ended up here and alive?

“You’re here,” you choke, a tubing clustered hand strokes Eddie’s face, “I was so scared,” you mumble weakly, “I thought we were d—” your throat tightens on the word and won’t release it, lost on a sobbing gasp that is muffled into his shirt as he pulls you into him.

The soft cotton of his shirt envelops you in a calming light state, the same smoky essence of Eddie washes over you, settling your hiccuping cries. His hand is stroking your hair, careful around the stitches. And if you listened close you could hear his heart breaking.

Eddie would find a way to melt the galaxies for you if you asked, hearing you crumble about the thought of him being dead is almost too much for him to handle.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he says, strongly, firm toned to get his point across in as few words as possible, no need to go into detail about how it was done, you and the baby were safe and that’s what mattered, “he’s gone.”

Gone? Did he get away?

“Wh—-” you try your best to make any sort of sense register and click in your brain, but it’s not connecting, “Eddie?”

He took a deep weighty breath, the final swing of the wooden bat playing behind his eyes like a film in class, he watched Chad’s lifeless body slump to the floor, the dirty and blood riddled nails wedged into his temple like a knife through soft butter. The horrified expression Mr. Derry gave as blood splattered on the walls, and coated Eddie’s face.

He lowered his head and shook the image from his mind, “I took care of it,” he whispered gravely, “he won’t be bothering you again.”

The muddied storm in his eyes thunders as you comprehend his words. Would you be afraid of him? The same hands that held you so tenderly were also capable of murdering a man who nearly took your life. The thought of you being terrified of him tingles his spine and makes his knees weak, he turns away from you before you can see him cry again.

Chad is dead. And you want to scream at yourself when you feel remorse. He was terrifying. A real life in the flesh monster. Quite literally tried to kill you. All he brought to you was pain. And he was dead at Eddie’s hand. The nightmare finally over.

He tried to hide the distressed pain burrowed deep in his face. He was everything the town always said about him. Satanic. Future convict. White trash, just needed to stitch ‘murderer’ to the long list of insults he’d worn his entire life, like a cloak to shield others away from him.

With your head held high you wipe the tears from your eyes and pull Eddie’s chin to face you, and you’re surprised when he jerks away slowly.

You forget the time spent away. Finding it easy to fall into sync with him again, your Eddie. Would he ever be yours again? He’s been left out in the cold, sick from the frigid heart you peacocked off to him, boundaries up and lies in your head.

He was the most important person in your life. And it was time you told him so.

“Look at me, Eddie,” you coax, trying to make your voice seem velvety instead of the scratchy crack of desperation you currently are pleading to him, “you saved my life.”

The brooding deepens and he presses his lips tight together before looking at you, guilt and shame riddle his features, “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, closing his eyes, “I’m so fucking sorry,” the tears fall freely down his face, and he wipes them away hastily with the back of his leather covered arm, “I should have been there.”

The words stab like a knife into your soul. Everything happened because of your actions, your apprehensive heart. Eddie almost got himself killed and in turn had to kill your abuser, yet he was the one apologizing for not being there.

“It’s my fault,” you say weakly, reaching up to brush a tear away from his wet eyelashes, “I’m the one that pushed you away, and then… I’m sorry Eddie…I couldn’t..”

He pulls you into him, his lips skirting your hair line, kissing sweetly and soft like butterfly wings. He shushes you, and whispers that everything will be okay, and in that moment you realize you didn’t have to stroll the pearly gates to be his.

His eyes drop slightly to the blanket cozied up around you, flitting over your stomach. When his eyes find yours again, there are fresh tears, and a sad smile. It takes a nano second for the realization to hit you like a ton of bricks in the chest. A gasp breeches your lungs and guilt forms in the shape of tears in your eyes.

He knows.

Regret is billowing from your body and you try to cover your eyes, terrified of Eddie’s reaction to not only you being pregnant with his baby, but keeping it from him for months.

Outside of telling Eddie to leave and trying to convince him that you didn’t love him—- this was the hardest thing you’d ever done. But you told yourself he wouldn’t want to be a part of you with a baby in the mix. A baby that would ruin plans and put a halt to dreams. He didn’t need to be tethered to you because of one night.

One single night that you had been lying to yourself about— trying to ease away the pain of loving Eddie and pushing him away for his own good. People had been distancing themselves from you your whole life.. you were guarded and as hard as it was to let the barrier fall around your heart, it was just as easy to put it back up, barricaded in yellow caution tape of lies.

Unworthy

Before you can drift into a full fledged spiral Eddie’s warm hands find your cheeks and tilt your head upwards to look at him.

“I’m here,” his eyes search yours, and they flood with the warmth of the sun behind the black storm, “I’m not going anywhere,Tooty.”

The drop of an aluminum can and spray of carbonated soda fills the room behind a loud shriek, making Eddie jump and stand up, instinctively placing his body around yours, his back covering you in a leather shield, and you grab his hand between your fingers, an instant comfort to your panic.

“STEVE!” Robin screams, her hands fly to her face like that little punk Kevin McCallister in Home Alone, mouth hung open in shock.

Steve enters the room with a fancy company cell phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. A package of Oreos in his hands, “No, Jack— I don’t care how long it takes just fucking f—“ his eyes go wide in disbelief, and he slams the presses a button to end the call when you smile weakly and wave your fingers between Eddie’s at him.

The next half hour is full of tears and hugs, calls to the Wheeler’s and the rest of your friends, letting them know you were awake.

The nurses flood in like a gaggle of cadets. Checking monitors and adjusting tubing. Letting you have your moment with your friends, explaining you were still going to be weak and the doctor would be by in a while to go over things with you.

Steve hasn’t stopped crying since seeing your eyes opened, blowing his nose every few mins. Robin talks enough for everyone, your throat still rubbing raw whenever you tried to say anything so you work with nodding along when asked questions. Eddie is unusually quiet, sniffing loud every now and then, offering you ice chips the nurses brought to you, a plastic spoon to your lips.

“So what hap—” Robin starts and Eddie immediately glares at her, shaking his head and a firm “no” falls from his lips, and nobody tries to bring it up again.

Eddie didn’t want you getting upset, he’d protect you for the rest of his life if that’s what it would take. Fuck, he’d even be happy to sit in jail for a life sentence for killing that mother fucker. Pride swelling his chest knowing Chad was dead at his hand. Finally making his mother proud for protecting someone when he couldn’t do the same for her… and now there was someone else to protect. A tiny little someone.

The days you had been sedated he was beside himself. When he wasn’t in your room holding your hand and humming songs to you, he would be down in the gift shop. Thumbing through baby books, familiarizing himself with the favorite nursery rhymes of Mother Goose. His fingers traced the lace on a pair of tiny little white socks. Blue plastic baby toys that he found were called a rattle and made a clunky noise when shook.

He looked out of place. Torn jeans and chains hanging from his waist amongst the delicate pastels of the baby section, but he didn’t care. He made himself a promise. That when this was fall said and done and you were healed—he would move you all into a new house. Out of Hawkins, away from this shithole of despair that only held bad memories.

And he intended to keep his word.

“Umm, I know it’s a little soon to figure this all out— but none of us want you staying… there, Tooty,” Steve says, blowing his nose one more time, hands on his hips in his typical mother hen style, “we didn’t know when you would… but eh…Leighanne already has the spare bedroom set up for you… and you can stay as long as you want.”

You hadn’t even thought about the house. But the thought of possibly having to go back there had you trembling. The smell of your own blood dripping onto the carpet filled your nose, Chad’s maniacal laugh…

“Later,” Eddie says, shutting the conversation down by clearing his throat, his eyebrows pulled in and he tries to hide his worry again by wiping his hand down his face.

You’re thankful when visiting hours are through, your body aches and the bruises lining your stomach are tender, each movement making sharp bolts of pain shoot all over. Everyone says their goodbyes, you squeeze Eddie’s hand, a panic set lightning strikes in your eyes. You didn’t want to be alone. Not now. Not anytime soon.

He doesn’t pause, doesn't recoil. He stands tall, squeezing your hand, his eyes finding yours, a silent comfort washing over you as he whispers so only you could hear, “I’m here, always.”

He needed you to know how serious he was taking this. You, the baby, everything. He wanted to be there for it all.

Small waves from your friends and powerful hugs with murmured conversations between Eddie and Steve, leaving them both nodding and agreeing on something out of earshot.

The room feels small without them there. The elephant in the room hovering over you and weighing heavy on your chest, bigger by the second and you can’t wait anymore.

“Eddie?” you croak, barely audible, vocal cords rubbing raw trying to speak.

The tears are already brimming in his eyes, he looks up at the ceiling, his thumb rubbing small patterns on the back of your hand, “when?”

You remember the exact day and time you felt something off in your body. Tired and achy all the time you couldn’t catch believe the amount of hours you could sleep uninterrupted.

The same calendar that once held your schedule for you and Eddie also held when your period was supposed to begin, but since Nancy had crossed Eddie’s name off you hadn’t even thought about possibly being late. Flipping through the pages you realized you were 3 weeks late. And blamed it on the stress. When February came and you still hadn’t gotten your period, you made an appointment with the clinic, and on the black monitor the doctor pointed out the tiniest baby growing in your belly, almost eight weeks along.

“When what?” You answered feebly, throat aching with each word.

Taking a deep ragged breath, Eddie looks at you, concern shadowing his face, he looks haunted, and depleted, “when did you find out you were pregnant?”

“Last month,” you clear your throat and reach for the ice chips, but Eddie helps you spoon them into your mouth. The ice melting on your tongue, pooling slowly and sliding down your throat to ease the ache.

“Eddie, I—” tears fall as you look into the hurt man’s whiskey colored eyes, “I was scared to tell you.”

He's blinking back tears, dropping your hand to walk around the room, landing at the window and pretending to look at the sky, “Did you think I wouldn’t care?”

A long pause between you is more than enough of an answer for him, and he sniffs loudly, “I’m not my dad y’know?” His voice hurt and wavering the delivery , “If you thought for a second that I wouldn’t give a shit about you or the baby, you’re wrong.”

Words you never thought would be said flow so easily from him, and you’re embarrassed you ever doubted him, “We aren’t together, Eddie,” you explain, letting the tears free fall, “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

Eddie scoffs and pushes off from the window, pouring his heart into his words as he explains his hurt, “hold me back? From what the band? Tooty, I’ve been trying to prove to you for months that all I’ve ever wanted was you,” he moves across the room, sitting next to your legs on the bed, reaching for your closed fist to thread his fingers with yours.

“Every part sweetheart, the good and the bad. Don’t you see that?”

Of course you did, but it was never that easy.

“I just— ” you couldn’t find the words, even though he deserved them, it was too much, “I can’t even say that…how could I tell you that I’m pregnant after what I did and how I treated you?”

That night with Eddie blurred in your mind. He was gentle and sweet, you had never experienced such passion in all your life. It was everything you could have hoped for and more, but your scared heart ruined it.

“I’m a bitch, Eddie. Look at what happened to you because of me!” yoj gesture to his bruised beautiful face, and the tears flow quick down your cheeks, “you deserve someone who doesn’t hurt you,” you mumble, tearing your eyes away from him and looking at the ceiling tiles.

“Goddamnit Tooty, you are possibly the most stubborn person, biggest pain in my ass… but I have cared about you since you were 14. And I have loved you since the minute you opened up that front door and yelled at me.”

You both laugh through the tears and he brings your chin to face him, his dark brown eyes swim with the glitter of fallen happiness, and he quickly blinks, “let me take care of you, sweetheart, both of you.”

It could be that simple. He loved you and you loved him. It wasn’t rocket science or poor willed fate. This was two people who cared about each other enough to look past all the ugly shit the world had to offer and chose to stick together. The epiphany sewed your heart closed and locked it tight, a branded “EM” on the lock and Eddie held the key.

You grab him with more force than either of you were expecting and collide your lips with his. Tears and stitches fill the gaps where your tongue danced the last time these lips touched yours. But it was somehow sweeter than any kiss before.

“I love you, Eddie Munson…” you breathe, “but I swear I will cut that hair of yours down to the scalp if you try to name this baby ‘Ronnie Dio’, or ‘dragon slayer 86’ or whatever the hell you used to call yourself in your demon club in high school.”

For the first time in days, Eddie belly laughs, and kisses each of your cheeks, “ohh princess, don’t tell me your still jealous because Eyeball wouldn’t let you join?”

You cross your arms in a pout and Eddie laughs again, “there she is, that’s my girl.”

Pushing him away with a playful shove he comes back and kisses you again, both of you smiling and giggling, two idiots in love. With a wince, you scoot over in the bed and make room for him to sit with you, adjusting the wires and tubing around you both you snuggle into him, placing his hand on your belly where you assume the baby to be.

He snuggled into your neck and sniffs quietly. Content.

“Promise me something?” you whisper as your fingers thread through his curls, he nods into you, kissing your neck sweetly and humming a yes. It’s a big ask, and you’re new to this feeling, “please don’t ever stop loving me.”

Eddie’s grin is warm on your cheek as he sits up, looking so far into your eyes your souls reach out and hold hands, “I couldn’t even if I wanted too, baby.”

A knock on the door interrupts the moment and you both turn to see a doctor in a long white coat, and green scrubs. His face is jolly and caring, an instant comfort.

“Ah yes, the nurses told me you were awake,” he says with a big smile, “it was pretty touch and go for awhile there but you look good considering what happened, how are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you answer, “everywhere.”

“That’ll be expected with the hellish ordeal you went through. Mr. Munson here gave us a brief rundown on what happened, and your injuries coincide that statement. We will be helping you both set up counseling appointments, usually with instances such as these, there will be panic and trauma that will develop from it. I urge you both to take them seriously.”

Eddie nods and answers for you, “yes sir.”

“Good. Now this soreness, is it generally all over or more localized in one spot?”

“I mean my head and face feel pretty awful, but mainly it’s my stomach.”

A small look of panic settles on the doctors face but is quickly replaced with a gentle smile, “we will schedule from scans for later today to make sure everything is okay, if you don’t mind— while I’m here,” he says, removing his stethoscope from his neck, “I’ll have a little check, alright?”

Eddie moves from the bed and settles by your shoulder, briefly pressing his lips to your hairline, his warm hand rubbing your arm slowly.

“Just routine,” the doctor says, lifting your hospital gown to the top of your stomach, pulling the blankets down to the stop of your knees, “nothing to worr—” his broad smile fades and Eddie lets out a loud gasp.

The inside of your thighs and the sheet beneath you are soaked in claret colored blood. You don’t have time to register what is happening before the doctor crosses the room and begins yelling orders through the phone, “this is Dr. Newby, prep OR 2 for a D&E…possible c-section, I’ll need everyone available.” He hangs up with a loud click and turns to address you and Eddie.

“What’s going on?!” Eddie demands, fear stricken eyes almost onyx in color, his fingers gripping yours tight.

“She needs to be prepped for surgery,” he answers Eddie curtly but still politely.

You balk, “Surgery?! Why?!”

The doctor looks into your eyes with a sympathetic expression, “you’re having a miscarriage.”

——

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

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dazed--xx · 2 years ago

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SKZ Break up Reaction II(Hyung Line)

Part 1

A/N: so I’m alive and writing again I hope this good im not gonna lie I’m really shit at writing fluff and this isn’t edited. Also I’m on full mobile uploading since my 4 year old decided to break my laptop but I do still want to write. The maknae line will be coming out soon I’m working on it and a couple other things atm so I hope you guys enjoy those. I’m going to be posting a preview shortly after this also I don’t ever really get much feedback or comments so please I love to hear you guy’s opinions tell me where I can be better but please like comment reblog and enjoy 😊

Chan:

You stared at your phone as tears flowed down your face. You weren’t sure what you should do, should you call him? You desperately wanted to hear his voice but could you handle the heartbreak and broken promises all over again? You love him, you missed him but being forgotten about for almost two months has you hesitantly hover over the answer button. It’s been two weeks and the calls and messages have been nonstop. You weren’t sure if you could face him, to see the look in his eyes you knew you’d absolutely crumble, so you watch as the call goes to your Home Screen and a missed call notification pops up followed by a voicemail. With a heavy sigh you click on the notification your hands are shaky as you press the play button “H-hey” he begins with a sigh “I-it’s been a-a….while now a-and I just want to know….how your doing. I know things weren’t….what you expected b-but I just want you to know that I love you a-and I want you to come home. I miss you so much. I know I should have been here I know I messed up so bad but I love you so much and I can only hope that I didn’t ruin things to the point where I can’t say that you love me too. If you still need time…I-I get that b-but ple-please just let me know you’re okay….come home soon…..please” your sobs grow louder shaking your body completely as you hear the pain in his voice.

You look around the small hotel room you had gotten for yourself, the hoodie you had stolen from Chan has adorned your torso since the night you left. With a final resolution you lift yourself from the bed, hurriedly grabbing your things as you shove them into your suitcase making sure everything is with you. You were anxious as you loaded your bag into your car. Your stomach was sinking as you pulled onto Chans street. You felt nauseous as you stood infront of the door, your hand hovering about to knock. Taking a deep breath you gently tap on the door, you felt like a kid coming home after running away at 6 years old. You felt small and confused yet the only thing you seemed to want, though you’ve been avoiding it, is to see him. You weren’t sure what to expect as you waited, you grew frustrated as you knocked once more a little harsher. The door being whipped open makes you jump in nervousness “Yah! I’m Fi—Y/N…” you stare at his wide tired eyes, his mouth hangs open as tears build in his orbs. Your pulled into his frame quickly as he wraps his arms around you quickly. “Y-you….” He cries “you came back” you hear the sigh of relief he releases as he buries his face in your neck. Your arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Yeah….I missed you so much I’m sorry” you apologize regret filling your tone. He shakes his head “No. I’m sorry fuck I’m so sorry please don’t leave again” he begs as his grip on you grows tighter. “I won’t I love you…. It’s you and me okay?” You promise as he lifts his head to look at you. He nods in response pressing his plush lips against yours.

Minho:

Minho paced back and forth for what felt like hours as he called you over and over again. His hands were shaky as he pressed the call button once more only for his heart to shatter once again at the sound of your voicemail. He didn’t know what to do it’s only been a couple hours but he felt hopeless. How could he get you to speak to him? Why did he have to be such an asshole? What could he do to see you again? Where could you have gone? A lightbulb goes off in his head, opening the location app you had downloaded on his phone his heart soars as your picture is still on his map. You never turned your location off, he thanks god for your absent mind. Zooming in on the location he recognizes your parents street, grabbing his keys he rushes out the door and into his car. His teeth tugging at his bottom lip in nervousness. Would you talk to him? Would you come home? He felt like throwing up at the thought of you saying no. How could he have ruined things so badly? His leg was shaking as he pulled into your parents driveway. What would you say? Would you turn him away?

He wasn’t sure if he should call you again, should he knock? This has never happened before he didn’t know the protocol for pleading and crying like a baby to get the love of your life back. He knew there would be groveling, but would you close the door in his face? Tell him you never wanted to see him again? No….no you wouldn’t—you couldn’t. You had to know how sorry he is, he raises his hand to knock on the door as it is pulled open your father standing there a disappointed scowl on his face. “Little—uh late there aren’t you?” He retorts he smacks his hand on Minhos shoulder firmly “advice for next time…you don’t let her leave genius. Beg. On your knees if you have to. But you never let them go because once they’re gone it’s hard to get ‘‘em back.” Minho nods softly “I’m so—shhhhh” your father cuts him off with his finger to his lips “I’m not who you should be apologizing to. Honestly I told her to kick your ass then leave she went the nicer way” Minho’s scrunch in confusion “I-Okay” he nods as he enters. He notices your mother seated on the couch a sympathetic expression adorning her face as she gestures toward a room. He nods in response quickly making his way to the door knocking hesitantly. His hands are shaking as he looks back at your parents watching him encouragingly, your mothers hands gesturing for him to go in. A heavy sigh is released from his mouth as he opens the door. The first thing he can hear is your silent sobs as you lay in bed. “Mom please can you just give me a minute” you cry silently. “You see, I would but l…I’m not your mom a-and” tears begin flowing down his cheeks as he rushes over to face you. He drops to his knees infront of your laying down figure, his thumb wiping away your tears “a-and I-I want you to come h-home” his eyes connect with yours “please, come home i—“ he sighs heavily grabbing your hand caressing it gently placing it against his cheek “I can’t breathe without you near me, I love you. I love you so much. I couldn’t think—I need you only a few hours away from you breaks me. Seeing our home rid of you, us, breaks me pl-please I know I’m an idiot but I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry. I need you I don’t want you to leave me alone. Never leave me alone please I—“ his words get caught in his throat as he hiccups. “Min…” you slowly sit yourself up your eyes connecting with his.

Guilt and regret worn on his expression. You bite your bottom lip as you place your free hand on his cheek. “I love you too. But maybe we need space..” he shakes his head in denial “you just had a few hours away from me how much more space do you need? Please I want to be with you I don’t want space I-I want to wake up everyday with you in my bed. I want to see you smile and hear your laugh when the cats do something weird. I need you. I want you to be with me. Always. I want to marry you, I want to have kids with you, I’m sorry but I’m not leaving unless you’re coming with me” he begs. A small sad smile forms on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him in. His arms taking a hold of your waist. “We can figure things out okay? I love you” you whisper

Changbin:

“Stop. Sending. So. Much. Stuff. To . My. Place.” Your growl as you place the gifts Changbin had sent to your house for the past week with every word on Changbins desk. He stared at you wide eyed and surprised before a smug smirk forms on his lips. His tongue runs over his bottom lip “I’m not seeing the necklace I sent yesterday.” He states as his eyes run over your figure. Your face twists into a scowl at his smugness as you cross your arms over your chest “I’ll send it in the mail” you lie, knowing the necklace was hidden under your shirt. A small tsk is released from his lips as he leans back in his seat, his legs spreading slightly as he stretched. “I mean..” he trails as he lifts himself from his seat making his way over to you, his fingers softly brushing your hair behind your ear. Tingles are sent down your spine as his fingers trail their way down the side of your throat before lifting the gold chain and pulling the daliha pendant. “It’s right here why send it in the mail?” His voice is low and seductive, you feel your resolution breaking as he pressed his chest against yours. Your breath is shaky as you willed yourself to not look directly at him. You feel his nose brush against your cheek, you feel heat grow on your face. You were sure you were a bright scarlet. Your hands place themselves on his firm chest shoving him back nervously. His eyebrow scrunch together in confusion “Wouldn’t want to make anymore mistakes right?” The sarcasm oozing out in your words.

You notice the hurt on his features,he runs his hands through his hair before releasing a sigh “you aren’t and never were a mistake to me! I love you I want to be with you the only mistake I made was fighting with you, please just give me another chance. I know I was wrong for what I said but we’ve both been on edge recently and I just want to fix things. You’re my everything and I can’t believe I said so fucking stupid” his eyes connect with yours, you can see the sincerity in his eyes. “Bin…I-I don’t know” you state your bottom lip making its way between your teeth. “Wait don’t decide yet I know you don’t want it but I have one more thing I wanted to give you” he urges as he rushes toward his desk “I don’t want you to keep buying me things Bin, it’s not right and it’s not a way to get me back. If I was to get back together with you because you bought me things then I would fee disgusted with myself.” You plead to deaf ears. “Shh! Just see it before you just reject it” he argues before turning around hand behind his back. “I made mistakes when it came to you. Not that you or our relationship was a mistake but I should have tried harder for you. I shouldn’t have said the things I said that night and for that I’m sorry but, I have loved you for three years now. From your smile to the way you take care of your friends. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll spend every moment of everyday trying to make up for what I said…” your heart sinks as he begins to lower himself down to one knee before grabbing your left hand his eyes connect with yours “will you marry me?” You stare at him mouth agape as he produces a velvet box from behind him. Your right hand placed itself over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes as you nod “yes!”

Hyunjin:

“Please, just talk to me!” Hyunjin begs as you casually stroll past him once again. Your heart rips out of your chest every time you were greeted by his tear stained, red eyed pout. Your bottom lip found it’s way between your teeth so you didn’t break your resolve. It’s been a month since you had broken up with him, and you spent every second since being bombarded by texts, calls, and unannounced visits from Hyunjin. You personally never told Hyunjin that you had overheard him saying those disgusting things about you, but you do know that Jeongin definitely did as his pleas changed from ‘what happened’ to ‘let me explain’. You personally didn’t care for an explanation nor did you want one. Your heart broke when you heard him say those things to Jeongin; you had a skewed idea of how your relationship was and Hyunjin opened your eyes with his words. You feel a hand wrap around your wrist, a bored sigh is released from your throat. “Please….Baby I-I’m sorry… I don’t know how to fix this, I-I just want to fix it I just want you to talk to me again.” His voice is horse, you notice his tongue brushing over his bottom lip before his teeth take his lip between them. A heavy sigh is released from his throat as he placed himself infront of you, hands wrapped around your arms. Your eyes connecting, you can see the longing and heartbreak in them.

Your breath grows heavy as you stare at your ex pulling yourself out of his grasp. “Please don’t touch me Hwang sunbae-nim, and it’s fine honestly, we didn’t work out.” You shrug, you feel your heart break as the look of utter horror grows on his angelic face.”s-sunbae-nim?” The words are barely above a whisper, pain laced in his tone. You nod softly “I think we wanted different things and you should be with someone that isn’t such a prude you know? Thank you for the apology but it isn’t necessary, you didn’t feel the same way as I did and that’s okay I just wish you would have told me instead of your members” you explain “no t-that’s not true! Please” his hands grasp yours desperately “why can’t you believe me? Look at me you know me! You know how I feel about you” tears streamed down his cheeks rapidly as he held your hands against his chest. You shake your head in denial “Hyunjin…pl-please let me go” your voice cracks. “I-I love you please believe me I didn’t want to break up I’m an idiot and I was frustrated and I just regret saying such stupid things I don’t need sex I don’t want you to leave me alone. I miss you—fuck—I miss you so much. I’m so fucking sorry I just want to be with you I just want my girl back please just give me another chance” he pleads, the despair evident in his tone. With a heavy sigh you shake your head “I just—sigh—you broke my heart and I just can’t jump back into this right away I’m sorry Hyunjin but no. I won’t be with someone who could think those things about me” you apologize as you continue making your way home.

#hyunjin angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #chan angst #stray kids reactions #hyunjin #skz reactions #SKZ Minho angst #changbin angst #hyunjin fluff #chan fluff #changbin fluff #stray kids Hyung line reaction #minho fluff #skz x reader

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sugarcoated-lame · 1 year ago

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Life’s A Beach | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

This is the second installment of my single dad Bradley miniseries | part one | library blog

Summary: A few weeks have passed since meeting Bradley and Caroline, and what better way to spend time with the adorable father-daughter duo again than a day at the beach?

WC: 6K

Warnings: all of my works are 18+ minors DNI, shirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradley, reader wears a bikini but there are no descriptions of body size/shape, mentions of food/eating, mutual pining, like one tiny mention of smut towards the end if you squint, I don’t really think there’s much else this is literally just straight up fluff, dilf Bradley just being the absolute sweetest, this part is much longer than the first bc I already had it written and then couldn’t help myself from adding almost 3k words while editing oops, once again I suck at titles and summaries :)

a/n: the header for this chapter was my first attempt at making a mood board, I hope y’all like it :) I love Dadley Dadshaw™️ and little Caroline so much, I couldn’t stop smiling while writing this chapter of pure fluff! If you enjoy it, please comment/reblog feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading! <3

•

You’re checking yourself in the mirror for probably the twentieth time when your phone buzzes with a text alerting you that Bradley is outside. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time this morning trying on countless swimsuits in an attempt to find the perfect one.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and with Bradley having the day off, and Caroline done with school for the weekend, he’d invited you to join them for a day at the beach. Since meeting them at the mall a few weeks ago when you’d helped reunite the father-daughter duo after the little girl had gotten lost, you’d maintained pretty regular communication.

The two of you had been texting almost daily, chatting about your days and getting to know each other a little better, and you were delighted to find out that Bradley did not, in fact, have a wife. He’d send you silly pictures of him and Caroline that never failed to make you smile even after a shitty day, and left you wondering how someone could still be so attractive while making the stupidest faces.

He told you a bit about his job — as not just a pilot like his daughter had told you when you met, but a fighter pilot, a naval aviator — and you told him about yours. You talked about your respective hobbies, favorite movies and your tastes in music among other things. Anything and everything that had come to mind, really.

Talking to Bradley was always easy. And there was definitely a bit of flirting. Okay, maybe a lot of flirting.

You’d also talk to Caroline too. She and Bradley had FaceTimed you a few times over the weeks and she’d update you all about how she was enjoying preschool so far, telling you that her daddy cried when he dropped her off on her first day — though, Bradley insists that he didn't — and about the new friends she’s made, before always asking when she’d get to see you again. You’d promised her, soon.

You’ve been pretty swamped with work, but you’re excited — if not a little anxious — to see them again. Though you hadn’t gotten another chance to see Bradley in person since that first day at the mall, your crush on him had grown exponentially. He was funny, charming, an amazing father to the sweetest little girl, and not to mention incredibly good looking.

Even through an iPhone camera, Bradley always looked so effortlessly gorgeous, his boyish smile and pretty eyes never failing to give you butterflies. You’d have to actively try not to swoon all the times he’d called you ‘sweetheart’ or said you looked pretty over FaceTime.

You could tell the mustached man liked you too, if his shameless flirting was anything to go by. He was too charming for his own good and he never seemed to fail to paint a blush on your cheeks. So, you want to make sure you look good when you join him and his daughter at the beach today.

You’d settled on a black bikini, the longline triangle top big enough to cover you up with enough cleavage to still be sexy, and the bottoms a little high waisted, the side strings pulled up high on your hips to accentuate your curves. You’d let your hair fall loose and flowing, and put on a light dusting of makeup.

After receiving Bradley’s text, you quickly throw on a matching black cover-up that ties at the front, your favorite pair of shorts and some flip flops, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

Bradley’s waiting for you, leaned up against the side of his classic blue Bronco in a white and baby blue floral Hawaiian shirt — which you’ve learned over the last few weeks that he seems to own quite an array of, a pair of dark gray swim trunks that show off his muscular calves, and a pair of aviators shielding his eyes from the early afternoon sun.

His tanned features only seem to glow in the bright light of the sun, and as you watch Bradley’s face light up with a grin when he sees you, sandy curls blowing in the slight breeze, you have to clench your teeth to keep your jaw from dropping. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

Bradley pulls you into a hug as soon as you reach him, and you happily wrap your arms around him. Inhaling his delicious scent and relishing in his warmth as you tell him that you’re doing good, before asking how he’s been too.

“I’ve been good, thanks. You look beautiful.” Bradley compliments you with a growing smirk once he releases you. You’re going to have to get used to the blush that seems to permanently reside over your cheeks whenever you are in his presence.

“You look– good too…” You trail off shyly, lips lifting into a sheepish grin as you push back some strands of hair that had blown in your face from the breeze, looking down at your sandal-clad feet.

Flirting with Bradley was much easier over text. You’re just thankful that his eyes are currently covered by his sunglasses, unsure if you’d be able to handle his deep, honeyed gaze on you right now without your knees buckling.

Bradley chuckles at your shyness, he loves how easily he can make you flush.

“Come on, I know someone is very excited to see you.” He places a gentle hand at the small of your back and leads you to the passenger side of the Bronco, opening the door for you. Your skin tingles with warmth where his hand had touched you as you climb into the passenger seat and Bradley closes the door for you.

Immediately upon entering the truck, you’re met with a high-pitched yell of your name. You turn around to see Caroline, all tucked into her car seat, sandy curls tied up in pigtails, and a tiny pair of aviator sunglasses that match her dad’s over her eyes. She really is Bradley's mini-me and you don’t think she could get any cuter.

“Hey, sweet pea!” She’d told you when you called her that on one of your FaceTime calls that that was her favorite nickname because peas are her favorite vegetable.

“You ready for a beach day?” You inquire happily, to which Caroline replies with a toothy grin and excited squeals of affirmation. She lifts her little aviators up onto the top of her head as she talks excitedly to you, while Bradley chuckles and begins to drive.

The two of you spend the entire drive to the beach chatting animatedly, Bradley chiming in here and there, but mostly just enjoying listening to the way you happily field the kind of questions and roundabout rambling that can only come from a four-year old.

He swears that his heart is going to explode out of his chest seeing how great you are with his daughter. How much Caroline already seems to love you, and how much you seem to love her too.

***

Upon arriving at the beach and finding a spot for the Bronco in the moderately crowded lot, Bradley quickly leaps out of the driver’s side to open your door for you, eliciting a bashful smile and quiet ‘thanks’ from you as he takes your hand in his much larger one to help you down.

When your feet are safely on the ground and he’s closed the door behind you, Bradley makes his way to the back door to help Caroline — who is bouncing her little legs and practically vibrating with excitement – out of her car seat.

The three of you make your way up to the beach, Bradley carrying a large cooler that he procured from the trunk. And while you try your hardest to not drool over his impressive arms, you hold a large tote that’s filled to the brim with a blanket, towels, Caroline’s countless beach toys, and an umbrella sticking out of the top in one hand, and Caroline’s smaller hand in your free one.

It’s only a short walk, and the second your feet touch the sand, Caroline’s little hand releases yours as she bounds ahead of you and her father in search of a good spot to set up.

Bradley lets out an exasperated sigh and lifts up his sunglasses, sharp eyes trained ahead to follow his daughter’s bouncing pigtails as she runs along the busy beach. “God, she’s really gotta stop doing that.”

Holding back a giggle — because you know firsthand that Caroline wandering off is a fairly common occurrence — you look up at Bradley with a sympathetic pout.

“Yeah, but if she didn’t do that, you never would’ve met me.” You shrug matter-of-factly, lips tugging up at the corner on their own accord.

Bradley can’t help but chuckle at that.

“I guess that’s true,” the playful smirk growing on your face draws a matching one onto his lips. “But, sooner or later, she’s gonna give her old man a heart attack.”

You join him in his laughter as you continue walking toward the empty spot where you see Caroline has stopped, bouncing on her feet and waiting for the two of you with an adorable toothy grin.

“You’re not that old.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you lightly smack his shoulder.

Once everything is set up – the blanket laid out along the sand and held down at the corners by the heavy cooler and the tote, the large beach umbrella creating a nice bit of shade, and Caroline’s various toys already scattered about — Bradley kicks off his flip flops and reaches up to begin unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt. Dropping his aviators onto the blanket along with it, leaving him in just his dark gray swim shorts with his torso bare.

Whoa. You thought he was hot with his clothes on, but you nearly went into shock upon seeing him without them. You knew Bradley was obviously in shape — you could see that even under the Hawaiian shirts and soft looking Navy tees he always wore over Facetime – but you didn’t know he was that muscular.

All golden skin and rippling muscles, broad shoulders and strong arms. Almost ridiculously toned abs and thick thighs leading down to shapely legs, Bradley looked like he was sculpted by the gods. Though he was a father, he certainly did not have a ‘dad bod’. You guessed that his elite naval training must be to thank for that.

In the hopes of distracting yourself — and to stop yourself from frothing at the mouth over Bradley’s physique, you decide to focus on applying the sunscreen that you also found in Bradley’s beach bag. You remove your cover-up and shimmy out of your shorts, already enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun blanketing the newly exposed skin.

Holy shit, Bradley has to stop himself from saying out loud as he catches a view of you in your bikini.

The way that the black fabric fits your body perfectly, just a hint of your plush breasts visible in the triangle top and the high-cut bottoms with little strings that cinch in at your waist accentuating your curves in all the right places, has Bradley’s heart beating faster and his cheeks heating up with a flush that he knows is not just a product of the bright sun.

He feels like he might start drooling at any moment as he takes in the sight of your skin – so much skin, and he wants to know if it would feel as soft as it looks, under his fingertips.

He watches in awe as you begin to apply your sunscreen, delicate hands smoothing over planes of skin, and Bradley wishes he could replace them with his own. He needs to stop ogling you before his swim trunks begin to show the evidence of just how much you’re affecting him.

When you’re finished lathering yourself in sunscreen, Bradley’s heart starts clenching in his chest for a whole different reason as you offer to help Caroline apply hers. She accepts your offer without hesitation, head nodding a mile a minute and that big grin that never fails to make Bradley’s heart melt on her sweet little face, and he swears she’s never taken to anyone — not even the Dagger Squad — so quickly.

He gazes on, eyes with wide adoration as you kneel down to meet his daughter’s height, gently – and oh so patiently – rubbing the cream onto the baby-soft skin of her arms and legs as she jumps and squirms around, her golden brown curls bouncing, the impatient four-year old ready to take off like a tornado down the beach.

Bradley can’t help but admire the sweet smile that overtakes your face and your soft laugh as Caroline scrunches up her adorable little button nose while you apply the sunscreen to her face, and he swears his heart grows three times its size when he hears the giggles bubbling out of his little girl’s mouth as you playfully pinch her nose and let her know that you’re done.

“What do we say, Caroline?” Bradley asks his daughter before she has a chance to run off in her excitement. His tone is slightly stern and his hands are on his hips, though a smirk is tugging at the corner of his lips as he squints against the bright sun to look at his daughter who returns his gaze with a wide-eyed, almost caught-out expression.

“Thank you!” Caroline turns back to you and wraps her arms around your neck in a quick hug that makes your heart melt.

Before you can hug her back, she races over to her dad and hugs her arms around his hips, her little head resting on his taut belly as she looks up at him with those big, brown puppy dog eyes that rival his own.

“Can we go in the ocean, Daddy?”

When Bradley lovingly strokes the crown of her head and grins down at her, you swear you could cry from how adorable the two of them are. “Of course we can, Bug.”

Then, Bradley lifts his little girl off the sand – and she looks so tiny in his arms – and you can’t help but giggle at the two of them as he leans down to blow raspberries on Caroline’s tummy through the fabric of her ruffly lilac bathing suit, high-pitched squeals and shrieking giggles leaving her as she flails in his hold, breathlessly yelling, “Daddy, stop!” while he continues to tickle her.

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” Bradley chuckles, only stopping when one of Caroline’s flailing limbs nearly hits him in the face. He presses a kiss to one of her flushed cheeks, and then the two of them are looking at you with matching grins.

“You comin’, sweetheart?” The term of endearment makes your heart flutter. You glance between the two of them, holding back a laugh at the four-year old that’s buzzing with excitement in her father’s arms.

“I think I’m just gonna relax here for a bit and soak up some sun, but you two go ahead!”

Bradley looks down to where you sit on the beach blanket with an appraising look as you smile at the two of them, a hand hovering above your squinting eyes to shield them from the sun, and you could swear you catch his eyes trailing down the line of your body for just a second before returning to yours. “You sure?”

“Yeah, you two go! Enjoy some father-daughter time.” You nod, a pretty smile on your face, and the playful wink you send his daughter has Bradley’s swim trunks feeling the slightest bit tighter again. Yeah, maybe a few minutes apart from you would do him some good.

Little does Bradley know, your reasoning for staying back is similar to his for not arguing with that. You need a moment to yourself to refrain from doing something stupid – like trying to lick his abs or climb him like a tree – if you have to be up close to him and his gorgeous body for one more second.

You relax onto the blanket, your face hidden under the shade of the umbrella as you watch Bradley take off toward the ocean with Caroline still in his arms, the little girl giggling the whole way there.

You watch on adoringly as Bradley plays with his daughter, chasing her around on the wet sand and scooping her up in his strong arms, spinning her around and dunking her partially into the water. The two of them run through the waves, splashing each other, all smiles and laughs the entire time.

In just the brief time that you’ve known them, it’s very easy to see that Bradley’s daughter is his whole world.

When they return a while later, Caroline sprints ahead of her dad to reach you on the blanket where you’re already waiting with a smile to hand her her beach towel that has cute little frogs printed all over it.

Bradley reaches the two of you a few moments later and your arm freezes mid-air as you reach up to hand him a towel as well, too distracted to even ogle over his glistening, wet skin as you notice the red shade that’s beginning to take over the skin of his cheeks and his broad shoulders.

“Bradley, you’re all red! Did you put on any sunscreen?” You question with a breathy laugh, though Bradley can see the concern in your eyes as he takes the towel from your outstretched hand and begins to dry the water droplets on his tanned skin.

Before he can respond that he had, Caroline chimes in. “Daddy says he burns if he even looks at the sun!” She exclaims through her giggles.

You laugh along with her for a moment before fixing him with that cute, sympathetic pout again that makes Bradley’s heart flutter in his chest.

Before he knows it, you’re reaching into the beach bag for the tube of sunscreen and standing to be closer to his height – though he’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“Here, let me-” You squeeze some of the sunscreen out onto your fingers, and then your delicate hands are working the cream into the skin of Bradley’s face and his cheeks are, again, warming even more and not because of the sun.

His skin tingles where your light touch had been, and Bradley thanks whatever gods are out there that Caroline jumps in and insists that you build a sandcastle with her before you get a chance to start working the sunscreen onto his shoulders. He doesn’t know that he could handle you touching him any longer without saying or doing something stupid.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I think I can take it from here.” Bradley’s tone is flirty as he holds a hand out for the tube of sunblock, fingers grazing yours, and his lips turn up in a smirk at the flush developing on your own cheeks as you nod back at him. And he can’t suppress the quiet chuckle at the stumble in your steps as you make your way back over to Caroline to get to work on your sandcastle.

After applying the sunscreen to his own shoulders, Bradley sits down in the sand to join you and his daughter.

“Daddy! We’re building the world’s biggest sandcastle!” Caroline exclaims, filling up her bucket with sand. “It’s gonna be bigger than you!”

Bradley lets out a throaty laugh, “Yeah, I’ll bet!” He looks to you and the two of you grin at each other conspiratorially. “Can I help?”

Once the three of you have built – and demolished, a la Caroline jumping straight onto it – the “biggest sandcastle she’s ever seen”, she and Bradley convince you to get in the water with them.

You all play a game of tag in the shallows, Bradley stopping to lift his daughter out of the water every so often when there was a large wave, before you and Caroline decide to gang up on Bradley to splash him with salty seawater until he’s soaked and looking at the two of you with a pout that you want to kiss right off of his lips.

Then, Bradley’s pout quickly morphs into a mischief-filled grin, a matching one growing on his daughter’s face as you look between them, the two of them seeming to have a sort of silent conversation.

“What are you-” Before you can finish asking the question, you let out a yelp as a strong pair of arms wraps around your waist and lifts you into the air, both Bradley and Caroline laughing like hyenas as the four-year old begins splashing you with water, and you can’t help but laugh along with them as you squirm under Bradley’s very strong grip.

All too soon, Bradley’s arms are releasing you, but he keeps a steadying hand on your waist as he settles you back onto your feet. His whiskey-hued eyes peering into yours and you can only gaze back, left a bit breathless, your skin set alight with butterflies where his large palm had been even when he’s no longer touching you.

“Daddy, I’m hungry!” Caroline announces, tension in the air dissipating as she jumps up and down between the two of you, tugging on the hem of her dad’s swim trunks.

You can breathe again as Bradley chuckles at her and finally shifts his gaze away from you, pushing back some of the wet curls that are stuck to her forehead. “Yeah, me too. Lead the way, Bug.”

The three of you make your way back up to your little setup on the beach, the little girl tugging you along with a hand wrapped in yours.

Bradley produces a few little packs of apple slices and the three sandwiches he’d packed earlier that morning from the cooler, peanut butter and jelly – Caroline’s favorite, as you’ve learned over your many facetime calls with the father-daughter duo and giggled at the four-year old’s jelly-covered face, where you let them know they were one of your favorites too.

“Bon appetit.” Bradley chuckles, holding out one of the plastic wrapped, diagonally cut sandwiches to you, a slightly sheepish smile coming over his mustached lips. “I know it’s not much, but-”

You cut him off with a shake of your head before he can finish his statement, and meet him with a sincere grin. “It’s perfect.”

He hands Caroline the one sandwich that has the crusts cut off and a packet of apple slices, and then pulls out an ice cold bottle of water for each of you, and a juicebox for his daughter.

While Caroline sweetly asks you to put the straw into her juicebox for her, Bradley pulls out one last thing from the cooler that has your heart leaping in your chest when you turn to notice him place something down in front of you.

A bottle of your favorite iced tea. Something you’d never explicitly mentioned to him, but that Bradley had noticed you always seemed to be drinking on your video calls with them. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet you feel like you could cry at the sweetness of it.

Bradley’s chest swells with pride as you pin him with a bright smile, eyes full of adoration. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Bradley sends you a wink that sends your heart into overdrive as he takes a bite out of his sandwich.

Bradley admires the two of you as he sits and eats his PB&J. His daughter is once again talking at you a mile a minute in that adorable, roundabout way that only little kids do as you follow along enthusiastically with a smile, you gently wiping jelly from Caroline’s face with a wet napkin and making sure that she drinks her water when you notice her cheeks getting a bit flushed.

“Just like her daddy.” He listens to you tell Caroline with a playful shake of your head, and the wink you send in his direction has Bradley swearing internally that he’s going to die, and he can’t help but think that he’d be more than happy to do this all the time.

After spending a while longer on the beach – you and Bradley sat on the large blanket chatting and watching Caroline play and build her own little castles with her pail and shovel, the three of you jumping in the water one more time, and you hiding your snickers behind your hand while Bradley tries to convince Caroline that it is not a good idea to bury him in the sand – the sun is just beginning to set.

And though he doesn’t want this day to end, Bradley decides it’s time to head home when he notices his four-year old rubbing her eyes and starting to yawn every couple of minutes.

You help him pack everything up and then the three of you make the trek back to the car, Caroline half asleep on her dad’s broad shoulders, while you walk close by Bradley’s side in a peaceful silence.

Caroline falls asleep almost instantly once Bradley gets her settled into the Bronco in her car seat, and you can’t help but coo at the adorable little girl when you turn back to look at her from the passenger seat.

The drive back to your apartment is a peaceful one, the sun still setting and bathing everything it touches in its dying golden glow — including Bradley — and you find it hard not to stare at his exquisite side profile as he bops his head along to the classic songs that play quietly from the radio as the two of you chat idly, low enough to not wake up the sleeping little girl in the backseat.

When the Bronco comes to a stop in front of your apartment, the sky has almost fully darkened and neither you or Bradley move for a long few moments, neither one of you really wanting to say goodbye, not quite ready for this perfect day to end yet.

Bradley clears his throat and turns his gaze to you with that boyish, mustached grin that sends butterflies coursing through your system and the smile you meet him with is an easy one.

“Thank you for coming today,” Bradley’s voice is quiet, raspy and deep and heat pools in your tummy as he continues to speak. “Caroline had a blast. She really likes you.”

His statement has you glancing back at the sleepy four-year old and beaming with adoration when you turn back to reply, “I really like her too. And, I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me.”

Bradley’s smile turns more playful as he nods his head, his honey brown eyes peering deep into your own as he quietly speaks again. “I really like you too.”

With the pulsing in your ears from your heart practically beating out of your chest, it takes you a few long seconds to reply and all you can manage to get out is a whispered “Yeah, me too…”

Your voice trails off and and your smile turns sheepish, gaze tilted down toward your lap to hide the obvious flush you know is blooming on your cheeks.

Bradley’s grin only broadens, eyes full of mirth at your sudden shyness.

“Can I walk you to your door?” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine and you don’t really trust yours to be steady with him looking at you like that, so you simply nod in response.

After Bradley checks behind him to see that his daughter is still sleeping soundly in the backseat, he unbuckles his seatbelt and quietly hops out of the Bronco. He quickly makes his way over to the passenger side to open the door for you and help you down from his truck.

With one last look through the window at Caroline, Bradley locks up the Bronco and you begin the short walk to your door. The two of you are trailing along the concrete path slowly, Bradley’s palm hovering at the small of your back to guide you and warming your skin through the thin fabric of your cover-up.

You hesitate when you reach your front door, leaning your back against the hardwood to face Bradley, still not quite ready to cut your time with him short.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you thank Bradley before letting him know again, “I really had a great time today.”

“Yeah, me too, sweetheart.” You could swear he’s really trying to kill you every time he uses that nickname. “We should definitely do this again sometime.”

Your voices are both still quiet, as if to not disturb the peaceful, but intense atmosphere that’s built around the two of you.

“Yes, we should.” You nod your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth as Bradley’s eyes peers into yours, pools of molten honey searching your expression.

Whatever he’s looking for, he seems to find it. One of his big hands reaches up to cup your cheek, large palm splaying across the smooth skin and long fingers reaching into your hair, and he loves the way you instantly lean into his warm touch.

Bradley just admires you for a long moment, his heavy gaze trailing down from your pretty eyes to your plush lips, further to where your chest is rapidly rising up and down under your sheer cover-up as your breath quickens, and then back up again to see the look of want in your dilated eyes.

When he can no longer take the tension that’s been building up between you all day, Bradley takes a step closer, leaving only a few inches between the two of you. He leans down and the hand on your cheek guides your lips up to meet his in a kiss that’s sweet, but firm, and all-consuming.

Your lips move softly against his, one of your hands lifting up to wrap around the wrist of his hand that still cups your face. His pulse under your fingertips grounding you as you sigh into the kiss, and you think you could get lost in him.

His lips, gentle and languid as they press against your own, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, and the comforting scent of him surrounding you — the spicy cologne that still lingers on his clothes, a hint of sweat mixed with the fresh, beachy scent from a day spent on the sand and sea, and something that’s just Bradley.

When Bradley deepens the kiss, lips moving more fervently against your own, your resulting whimper has him crowding you against the door, no longer an inch of space left between your bodies as his broad chest presses against yours, his free hand coming to grip at your waist.

Bradley’s tongue trails the seam of your lips, begging for entrance that you grant him without resistance, swallowing his deep groan as your free hand reaches up to his hair. Your fingers tangle into the strands, his waves extra defined from the salty sea water, fluffy from the beach and now, you.

As your tongue glides along with his, Bradley’s strong hands now both squeeze at your waist, trailing down your sides until they reach the backs of your thighs. He effortlessly lifts you into his strong arms, never breaking the kiss, and your legs wrap around his waist as the weight of his body presses you harder into your front door.

Things continue on like this — for minutes or hours, you’re not quite sure as you completely lose yourself in the feeling of Bradley’s kiss — only getting deeper, hungrier, more frenzied. Your lips never parting from Bradley’s despite the burning that’s beginning to grow in your lungs, thighs clenching around his hips in search of even a hint of friction to curb the arousal that’s building in your core.

Bradley finally pulls away when the lack of oxygen gets to be too much. Your lips chase his, the little whimper you send him when his mouth is no longer on yours, going straight to his cock that’s pressed against your hip, straining against his already-tight swim trunks, and his head is spinning from the way your lips trail down to press gentle kisses to his jaw.

He wishes he could take you inside your apartment — to your bed, and he would have, but it’s then that he remembers his four year-old daughter is asleep in the backseat of his car.

Bradley’s forehead presses against your own and he breathes in deep before exhaling a deep sigh to steady himself. After pressing one last peck to your lips, he sets your feet back down on the ground. He takes a step back to look at you, hands hesitating to leave your waist as he doesn’t want to stop touching you yet.

Your expression is dazed, lips are swollen and eyes blown wide, your heaving chest matching his own as you take the oxygen back into your lungs, and Bradley can’t help but pull you in one last time with a hand on the back of your neck to kiss you breathless — again.

When he pulls away this time, Bradley hardly gives himself a moment to catch his breath before he pants out, “Can I please take you on a date?”

You nod your head near-frantically and you laugh just as breathlessly. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

Bradley chuckles, gazing down at you in adoration, his thumb that reaches up to caress your cheek and his next words draw a blush to your cheeks.

“Believe me, I’ve wanted to for weeks. Since the first day that we met you.”

You turn your head to press a sweet kiss to Bradley’s thumb.

“You could have. I definitely would’ve said yes.” You reply with a bashful smile.

“Yeah, I’m a bit off my game. I haven’t really done this in a while if I’m being honest.” Bradley admits a little sheepishly and you nod along, encouraging him to continue.

“I haven’t dated much since Caroline. She’s kinda become my whole world.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward and hoping you don’t think that’s pathetic.

You take his hand in yours and smile at Bradley, eyes shining bright in what can only be described as admiration.

“You’re an amazing father, Bradley. You're so dedicated to Caroline and that’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You give his hand a gentle squeeze as you gaze up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his sun-reddened cheek. “And I definitely want to go out with you.”

“Thank god.” The pair of you let out relieved laughs at his words. Bradley’s hands reach out for your waist once again. “Come here.”

Bradley leaves you with one more passionate kiss that ends way too quickly for either of your liking and a ‘Goodnight, sweetheart’ that paints a blush on your cheeks.

After making sure that you’re safely inside your apartment, Bradley strides back to the Bronco, unable to wipe the grin from his lips. With a glance in the rearview mirror at his baby girl still sound asleep in her car seat, he begins the short journey back to their home, a goofy smile on his face for the entirety of the drive as he thinks about how he’s going to take you on the perfect date.

•

Thank you for reading! x

Don't forget to comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! I've got one more part planned for this little series, it's not written yet but I hope to get it out to you guys soon <3

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @misshoneypaper @diorrfairy

also tagging some people who reblogged/commented on part one: @bitter-post-millennial @rhettabbotts @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @becks-things @indynerdgirl @perfectprettypisces @annathesillyfriend @southpawbitch @colourfulsuitwonderland @wildxwidow @roger-that-cap @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @valhallaas @mayari-tala @teacupsandtopgun @dorothychxca @fangirlvoice @jjenjoysthings @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @je-suis-prest-rachel

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x y/n #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x you #top gun fanfiction #miles teller #dad bradley #single dad bradley #my writing

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midnightfictionlibrary · 1 year ago

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You're the One - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

You’re the One - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : best friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count : 1.3k

Summary : Two Times Jamie Tartt realized you were the one, and the one time he did something about it.

A/N : A stand alone fic while I work on the next chapter of the Jamie/Roy/Reader love triangle fic. This idea popped into my head after listening to You’re the One by the Black Keys. As always, please like and reblog if you enjoy! <333

1. After the Broken Engagement

The rain pattered softly against the windows, and Jamie sat contentedly on his couch, the blue glow from the television playing over that week’s best football highlights. It was an uneventful week it seemed, but he still insisted on catching up. Just as he’s about to switch the channel, he hears a knock at the door.

Brows furrowed, he stands up and pulls his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. God knows his hands were always cold. When he opens the door, he’s greeted by you. Well, a soaking wet, sobbing, you.

“Fuck, babe, what’s wrong?” He says, immediately concerned, his heart wrenching for you. He doesn’t care that you were soaking wet, he gathers you in his arms as the most heartbreaking cries leave your lips. He didn’t even care that he accidentally called you babe.

“L-Leo…h-he-” you gasp, “in our bed.” You cry, wrenching the ring off of your left hand violently and dropping it on Jamie’s front porch. Suddenly, the puzzle pieces fall into place for Jamie, and he takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him.

“Listen t’me. You…” He pauses, trying to find the right words. You stare at him, comforted immensely by his presence already. His warmth radiates into your own body, making you feel safe. That was how Jamie made you feel, and he knew it, too. “You deserve better than that prick, yeah? Too fuckin’ pretty and smart and kind to be crying over a prick like that.” He says, pulling you in to hold you. And you let him.

The feeling of you against his body, calming already from his presence made Jamie realize you were the one he adored. He didn’t need anybody else. Even if you were engaged to someone that wasn’t him, he was always going to be there for you. Just like he was now. And he didn’t think anything could change that.

Later, he lets you sleep in his bed, promising to go with you to your flat the next day to grab your belongings while that prick Leo was at work. He’s about to leave when your slender hand reaches out to intertwine your fingers together. “Please stay.” You whisper, and Jamie’s heart skips a beat, lying next to you. You rest your head on his chest, still sniffling slightly.

As he kisses the top of your head affectionately, he knows he’s done for. You had burrowed your way into his affections from the moment he met you, three years ago.

2.After The First Match Using Total Football

Jamie was out with the team, the owners, and quite a few friends at Sam’s restaurant as a celebration for their victory that afternoon. But, he still hadn’t seen you. As the team’s social media manager, he knew you were probably editing posts and queuing them up for the next day, but he still wished you were there.

Roy pretended not to notice how Jamie kept glancing around for you.

Keeley pretended she had no idea where you were.

In reality, you were just running a bit behind, but you wanted Jamie to be surprised when he realized you, his best friend, were wearing his number. He had mentioned to you that no one close ever came to his matches sporting his kit, and you had decided to change that.

When you walk into Ola’s, you catch Sam’s eye and wave profusely, running up to hug him, giving him a few pecks on the cheek. “Sam!” You pause. “Oh my gosh, this place is amazing.”

Before Sam can answer you, you feel a tap on the shoulder. You turn around, seeing a flustered and blushing Jamie.

“Wh..what are ya wearin’?” He asks, seeming to choke on his words slightly, and you grin at him brightly, pleased at how surprised and touched he seemed.

“Oh this? Just the number of my favorite Richmond player.” You say, nonchalantly, giggling at the way Jamie’s cheeks tinge pink for a moment.

Jamie doesn’t respond for a moment, instead wrapping his arms around your waist and crushing you into a hug. “Thank you.” He whispers, and when he pulls back you smile tenderly at him, pushing a few strands of hair from his forehead.

“Nothing to it, Tartt. You’ll always be my favorite.” You wink, looping your arm through his. “Now, can a tired social media manager get a drink around here?”

He chuckles, leading you to the bar, and while he watches you order, he can’t help but just stare at you. Roy pretends not to notice again, and Jamie is thankful. He thought it was more than obvious that he adored you, but it didn’t seem like you were picking up on that. He takes a sip of his beer, looking away from you when you turn your attention back to him.

“I’m really proud of you, Jamie.” You say, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Nah, you ain’t got nothin’ to praise me for. Just playin’ the game like always.” God, he thought if his face got any more heated he’d have to excuse himself for some air. You tsk, poking his side before moving to speak to Keeley and Rebecca. The number 9 on your back burned itself into Jamie’s mind, and he swore that day he fell even more in love. If that was possible.

3.After Amsterdam

It was late, and you flipped a page of your book, putting your cat-themed bookmark in when you realized you’ve reached the end of the chapter. Setting the book down on your coffee table, you move to the kitchen to start preparing your favorite nighttime tea. Your orange cat, Gizmo, purrs loudly at your feet, and you stoop down to give him a few scratches behind his ears.

You’re just finishing preparing your tea, stirring your tiny teaspoon in your mug when you hear a series of frantic knocks at the door. You leave the spoon in your mug, taking a glance through the peephole before you open the door.

“Jamie?” You ask, “Did you just get back from Amsterdam?”

“I saw a windmill.” He says, breathlessly, like he had run to your flat.

“What?”

“I- sorry. S’not the point. Realized I had t’come and tell you that I fuckin’ adore ya, yeah? I can’t take it anymore. I’m losing me mind thinkin’ about ya all the time. ‘M in love with you.”

You stand there, utterly speechless. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Here he was, Jamie Tartt, your best friend, admitting that he thought about you all the time.

Jamie steps into your flat, taking your hand. “Please say somethin’.”

“I..I love you, too.” You whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks, almost as if he can’t believe it.

“Ever since you took care of me that night I threw my ring down on your front porch.”

Jamie can’t take it anymore, he cradles your face and kisses you passionately. “Want” he says “to give you a ring of my own” through small sweet kisses to your lips.

Your mug of tea sits forgotten as you pull Jamie close, stumbling clumsily into your bedroom. You both collapse on your bed, him on top of you. “You’re the one, Jamie.” You whisper, and he grins at you before capturing you in a kiss that has your head reeling.

Gizmo meows lightly, curling up on the couch as it starts to rain, his owner relishing in a love with his other favorite human.

The two of you stay in bed until late the next morning, unable to get enough of each other.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt #best friends to lovers #ted lasso fanfic #longing #jamie tartt fanfiction #friends to lovers #pining

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harleehazbinfics · 10 months ago

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Home is where my heart is.

Chapter 4: Family Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2000+ A/N: WHERE ALREADY AT CHAPTER FOURRR AAA this concludes the life they had while they were human, but we'll still have a few flashbacks to see cuz plot. also thank you for over 1,000+ of likes and reblogs that means so much to me that you enjoy my works. i think y'all really liked the devout one lol, i'll just say now that i have plans to make it about lucifer so if you're into that please expect more and hit follow, really helps when peeps comment on stuff <33 much love, enjoy!

there were so many errors bro LMAO also I added a few paragraphs to this, so pls enjoy my scuff (edited as of Feb 20)

“I’m home~,” my husband’s voice calls out from the doorway.

Wiping my hands on my apron, I greeted him coming from the kitchen, “Al! Welcome back. How was your day?”

“Same as always. It’s gotten quite dusty out, I wouldn’t recommend you and the lil’ munchkin to go out for a while. I’ll take a shower first,” he responded dusting himself off briefly by the door before removing his shoes and coat. Heading towards the bathroom past me, but not before giving me smooch on the cheek and a gentle rub on my swollen belly.

Yes. Miledy got pregnant with Alastor’s child. He slowly warmed up to the idea when he saw her babysitting the neighbor’s toddler and when they both visited an orphanage, albeit to Al’s hesitance, where he saw her dote on the children, as she was also a kid that grew up in an orphanage feeling great empathy towards them. If Alastor didn’t stop her, she would have adopted all of them. At the end of the day, he concluded that you would be the best mom possible out there and gave her wish. Making him very sentimental and missing his late mother, which she often comforted him about.

I sighed happily and rubbed my stomach. I stared at the cradle with much longing, I couldn't wait to see our baby. Above the cradle was a mobile, it was a string of ornaments that were meant to be a toy for them, it was decorated with shells, dolphins, rabbits and a deer—as requested by Al.

I picked up a music box that had our favorite music. Alastor had this requested as a gift for your child, I was surprised when he presented it to me. I didn't think he'd be attached to them as much as I was, but I guess he adores them in his own way. Making a family does make it seem more real.

It makes me think back all those lives we've taken just to protect our family. I wonder if those people had family too? Did they look for them?

I was pulled from my thoughts when Alastor stood beside me, gazing at the cradle as I was.

“And how have the two of you been, my love,” Alastor asked, his hair still wet and changed clothes.

The both of us walked towards the couch, him making me sit on his lap as always after work, where he would rub my stomach and lower back, and even sometimes my chest whenever they get too heavy.

“Been kicking and moving around so much lately. I’m so sore all over,” I moaned as I leaned my back on his chest, letting him massage my lower back.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give them a good talking to,” he joked poking around my stomach.

Giggling and squirming in his hold I cried, feeling fluttery inside when the baby kicked in response, “Al, that tickles! Haha!”

“What?~ I’m just disciplining our child,” he explains himself in a light tone.

“You’re such a loser,” I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, “I’m anything but a loser. Have you seen my wife? The most sought out singer in all of Louisiana? You must have heard of her surely.”

“I have indeed,” I giggled, “but I heard she unfortunately got knocked up by some random radio broadcast guy that does his shows in a basement.”

Alastor gasps dramatically clutching his hand over his chest and exclaims, “You did not! One, I own a studio in the city where I do my shows, thank you very much. Two, how dare you say unfortunately, I’m the most highly paid broadcaster. Any person would drop on their knees to even get to be in the same room as me.”

I chuckled at his haughtiness and conceded lying on his chest once more, “You’re right, you’re right, your royal highness.”

He lets out a hum similar to a purr contently embracing us.

(3 years later)

“Abigail!”

A little squeal sounded down the halls along with little pitter patters of her tiny feet as she tried to get away from me.

“Come here, Sunshine. You need to get changed. Don’t you wanna go and see Dad?” I asked her walking to her slowly.

She excitedly jumps from behind the couch and yells, “Dad! Dad! I wan’ta see Dad!”

“Alright, alright. Come’re,” I called her to come closer to put on her little yellow sundress. I took my bag that had all our necessities while Abby tried to put on her shoes that she immediately showed off when she did it all by herself.

“Well done, Abby! Dad will be happy that you can put on your shoes by yourself now. Do you want to tell him yourself?” I asked putting on her hat.

“Mhm! I’ll tell him myself!” she answered cheerfully holding my hand after I shut the door and locked it.

“Alright then. You ready?” I asked her again with a doting smile.

“Yes! Let’s go meet up with Dad!” she replied excitedly trying to drag me with her.

After we arrived at his studio, we went to his office and waited for him to finish with his morning show so we could take Abby to the park and eat at a restaurant for lunch after. She was on the floor playing with her toy doll and stuffed bunny, playing pretend by herself.

“Hello there, darlings,” Alastor greeted with a smile. Arms already open for his daughter to dive in.

“Dad!” She yelled excitedly jumping into his arms, “Are you done with work?”

“Yup. You excited to go to the park today?” he asked booping her nose playfully.

She laughed delightedly making both Al and I’s hearts to melt.

“Yeah! I wanna go now please!” she requested politely hugging her father’s neck.

“Okay, Sunshine,” he replied petting her back.

Hand in hand, the three of us spent the day together happily on our family outing. Of course, it couldn’t be helped that we would be stopped a few times, but we immediately excused ourselves from them to enjoy as much time as we could while we were together, not letting all the disturbances get in the way for our plans today.

Reaching home with a tired Abigail in my arms. Alastor carried all our bags and toys that we bought for our daughter along with a balloon with a smiley face on it tied around his wrist. As he was opening the door for us, he stopped suddenly, making me look up to him alert.

I clutched Abby closer getting ready to run. Alastor fully opened the door and dodged a swing from a brass knuckle to his head.

“Run!” he yelled as he fended off the intruder from getting to us. Abigail waking up from the shout of his father, she trembled in fear as she saw him fight another man.

“Mom? What going on?” she asked, confused and afraid grip tightening around me.

“Shh, I’m sorry but mom’s gonna ask you to stay quiet, okay? Just-just close your eyes, honey.” I requested seriously making her tuck her head in my neck.

I ran as fast I could, reaching our other house that was used for emergencies. We entered together and pushed her inside a bunker in the bedroom.

“Baby, you need to listen to me. I need you to be quiet for me, okay? No matter what, don’t open this door if it isn’t me or Dad, got it?” I ordered her with a serious face making her nod despite being afraid out of her skin. I swiped the tears under her eyes and gave a kiss on her forehead saying, “I love you so much, Abby.”

I left her after locking the door and pushed the vanity on top of the door. Holding my gun close to me and creeping my way out the bedroom to check for any of followers, as I was rounding a corner someone tugged at my hair making me throw my head back.

I whacked him with my gun up on his chin making him back up from me, taking this opportunity to shoot him in the chest twice. I aimed my gun to the window when I saw a sliver of light catch the corner of my eye, shooting when he jumps in through the window stopping him from letting him move further in.

I turned my gun to the door when I heard it open, only to feel relieved when I saw the familiar tuft of brown hair styled in a certain way that I could immediately recognize. I run towards him for an embrace that he returned.

“Where’s Abby?” he asked looking around the room.

“She’s in the bunker. Did anyone follow you?” I asked placing my hands back to my sides.

“None. I had 4 people outside, you?” he said rushing into the room making sure Abby’s safe.

“Just 2,” I sighed rubbing my face frustratedly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been Alex’s men. They’re getting pretty fucking desperate if they’re attacking from our house,” I snarled.

“It’s fine, darling. That’s why we prepared this to make sure Abby stays safe,” he said assuring me, and giving me a quick peck on the head. Then helping him push the vanity off the door and took our daughter out.

“Let’s stay in the cabin for a while, we aren’t safe here,” Alastor suggested which I agreed to.

Morning come; Abby woke up confused, she then realized she was in her father’s cabin seeing his prized hunting gun on wall. Her eyes scanned the room for her parents and found none of them there, so she slowly opened the door and was greeted by the smell of cooked meat. She found her father in the kitchen cleaning while you were knitting on the sofa. Hearing the door creak, both the adults turned their heads to their daughter’s little round head.

“Good morning, Sunshine~,” Alastor greeted waving his spatula.

I got off the sofa, leaving my knitting materials and scooped her up into my arms, “Hello, bunny. Did you have a good sleep? It’s already 10pm.”

“Mhmm, but I had a bad dream. Mom and Dad where fighting some bad guys and I was so scared that you got hurt,” she mumbled making my face ridden with guilt.

I never wanted my baby to experience this, I never knew that Alex’s obsession would ever get this deep.

To briefly explain what happened over the years, I sang in a private bar where some very important people were having a meeting. Unfortunately for me, one of people there was interested in me. So, I explained to him that I had a husband, but he refused to leave me alone until Alastor came with the owner of the establishment to diffuse the situation. However, it didn’t stop there, he insistently showered me with gifts and letters that I had to refuse each time. I confronted him saying that I would never be with him as long as I lived, so in retaliation his obsession turned sinister, believing that if he couldn't have me then I was better off dead.

Alastor, fueled with irritation, confronted him almost successfully killing him in the process if it weren’t for Alex’s group to look for him and warded Al off. And to this day he’s eager to hurt our family.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I replied eyebrows furrowed kissing her head, “it’s just a bad dream don’t be scared.”

“Exactly, nothing to be worried about. Why don’t you have some breakfast first? Breakfast is indeed the most important meal of the day, Sunshine,” Alastor spoke up after setting the plates, taking Abby into his arms, and placing her on her chair.

At the end of the day, when Abby passes out from exhaustion from playing in the meadow all day. Alastor takes his gun off the wall making me stand up in worry.

“Where are you going?” I asked, holding his arm.

“To finish this once and for all. I don’t want Abby to be in danger anymore. Most of all, I don’t want you to live in fear that we’re going to lose Abby, neither do I,” he reason placing his hand on your cheek.

“Just please... please be careful, Al,” I pleaded him covering his hand over mine.

He gave me a smug smile and replied, “I’ve never lost before, darling. I’ll be back before sunrise. I promise.”

I nodded as he gave me a kiss, as much as I was worried about him, I knew Al could take care of himself.

“Stay safe,” I said staying by the door frame while he waves goodbye, painfully unaware how devasted I would be when he never returned the following day.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x oc #hazbin fotel fanfic #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year ago

Note

Could i please request a Platonic Yandere Peter B. Parker with a reader from a different universe (maybe in their original universe, he's their biodad?)

Warnings: platonic-yandere behavior

A/N: we love Peter b. Parker. Ty for requesting! Hope you enjoy :]

He’s shocked, to say the least. He already has his daughter tangled around him as he works with Miguel and the other Spidermen. Plus, taking care of miles is another job. But when Miguel told him about a new Spider-Person, he was intrigued.

But, when he saw you appear at the quarters all sad and lit up when you saw him, though getting disappointed a second later when you saw him holding Mayday, it shattered his heart. Of course, having spider senses and the ability to be understanding, he approached you; feeling bad about your reaction. Furthermore researching and begging Miguel to see what happened in your universe, it made him sad to see you now-distant.

Regardless of what happened in your universe, he’s now always ‘bothering’ you; acting like the dad he once was in your universe. He’s taking you under his wing as he did with Miles. Whatever happened, he’s hoping he can fix it with you, wanting to get to know you better as you did with him in your universe.

You’re welcome into his home at any time, he always makes sure to make extra plates during breakfast and dinner, even if you said the day before you weren’t coming/or had plans.

Peter constantly asks if you have the designed bracelets to let you travel through universes; making you promise you’ll use them safely and appropriately.

And if you don’t? Well, he won’t be mad. Sure, he’s disappointed. But he’s proud that you did something you are also proud of. He’ll even state that he will take the blame if Miguel shows up at the front door.

The whole family adores you. Mayday loves you just as much as her dad. She loves clinging onto you, planting herself onto your head, and playing with your hair (if you’re fine with it!) and sometimes cries whenever she doesn’t see you. MJ always welcomes you with wide and loving arms whenever you come to visit; hugging you tightly when you come through the portal.

Seeing Peter and Mayday happy to see you warms her heart, which escalates to her opening up to you - treating you like one of her own.

Peter always goes out of his way to get things you enjoy, regardless of your whining of ‘I don’t need more things’. If he sees something in a shop, even in the window, he sprints out with more gifts he was supposed to buy and gives them to you the next time he sees you - making sure to add the Mayday participated in the wrapping paper!

He’s quite a chill parent considering he’s taking care of a baby and a teenager. While he’s gonna be watching out for you, making sure you don’t overdo your strength and aren’t damaging stuff; he would hate to get yelled at Miguel for things that are broken.

Peter always makes sure you feel loved, often giving you hugs and affection that you may feel uncertain about. He always reaches out, asking if he can do anything to help you and that you know he’s here to support you.

Though, Peter is quite a touchy person and if you prefer not to be touched and rather be shown affection through gifts, acts of service, or words, he’s happier to do that as his goal is to make sure you feel comfortable and safe in his presence.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year ago

Text

Pumpkin Carving (Obey Me!)

The guys want to try out pumpkin carving. How does it go?🎃

»Characters: Demon Bros+Dia, brief side characters as judges »Tags: Humor/Fluff, Bulleted Fic »Notes: Part of OM! Flufftober 2023 // reblogs are always loved & appreciated :3 // halloween divider by saradika!

Lucifer: The Show Off™️

Decided to go for an intricate design for his pumpkin

He worked carefully & put his entire lucifussy in it

It was beautiful watching him work his magic he looked like he was creating a symphony

However his pumpkin looked like mush in the end

Everyone laughed. Everyone. Satan & Belphie the hardest.

Solomon: "...it looks great Lucifer. I can see the hard work you-"

"Don't patronize me."

Mammon: Macaroni Art Vibes™️

Complained saying the whole thing was lame but he got really into it

"Heh, look at the little guy!"

It actually looked really cute for his first pumpkin, it had a simple silly face!

Took photos with it only because "it's the type of thing you're suppose to do!"

The judges liked his very much & he came in 3rd place🙂

"...Ya so where's my reward!?"

Levi: Limited Edition Collector's Item 2023: Akuzon Fall Exclusive™️

Geeked out because he always wanted to carve a pumpkin! JUST LIKE ANIMES!

Of course he had a ruri chan stencil already made, he was waiting for this day

His pumpkin actually looked really good & made with love! He even added glowsticks to it!

However dun dun dun, tragedy struck!

He dropped it before he could show the judges

Poor baby cried his eyes out & you guys had to buy him his favorite milk tea

Satan: The Smashing Pumpkins™️ (please don't sue me, thanks!!!)

A little too good with a knife

Made the best intricate design out of everyone, it wowed the judges (& pissed off Lucifer)

Then he started punching & smashing it, completely obliterating it

Beel tried to eat the flying pieces that flew into the air

Delicately placed a pretty candle on top of the mush as the finishing touch

Solomon: "...You know what I like it."

He came in 2nd place!

Asmo: Bedazzled & Bright™️

"It screams 'I AM the now' you know!?"

I mean, he added jewels & even a mini light up disco ball inside

He carved his face into it & it projected his face onto a wall

some say they saw it reflect on the night sky like a hero signal

Was Luke's favorite because it looked fun & bright!

Note: his pumpkin got stolen off the HOL porch during the night.

Beel: Frankenstein Era™️

I know what you're thinking & no he didn't eat it 😐

(Everyone made sure he was well fed before doing the group activity)

His pumpkin looked the silliest, he added mini pumpkins to it & stacked them

Solomon: "What do you think would happen if we brought that thing to life?"

Barb: "Don't."

He did snack on the few pumpkin pieces that got carved out

...OK yeah he ate it all in the end but that was later!!! Leave him alone! He tried so hard!!!

Belphie: BANKSY™️

Didn't really want to participate but whatever brother Lucifer says, goes.

While everyone carved & decorated their pumpkin, he just napped on his like a pillow

Lucifer scolded him for doing nothing to his pumpkin

Belphie challenged him saying it was a work of art & up to interpretation

The judges 'ooo & ahh'd'

His pumpkin came in 1st place

LuciferGrindingHisTeeth.jpg

It's possible Lucifer chucked the pumpkin into oblivion when no one was looking

Diavolo: THE Pumpkin Face™️

"You can't beat the classics!"

Wanted to do a classic pumpkin face to keep human tradition! He appreciates human culture!

He took his time, stenciling was fun & cutting was a little rough

It got a little messy but he enjoyed it

The pumpkin ended up being a thing of nightmares but no one had the heart to tell him

(Barbatos cringing in the background)

Luke fainted at the sight. Dia naively took it as a sweet compliment

⬦You might also like: Costume Shopping Coconut︱Waffle House︱

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me shitpost #obey me crack #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me fluff #obey me funny #obey me humor #Halloween divider by saradika !#◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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crowngamer901 · 12 days ago

Text

My Splatoon OCs' GrandFest outfits: The Concepts and the Final Models

(I’m looking at the last three with the names and I’m realizing how bad my hand-writing looks lol)

(Also I have no clue how long of a post Tumblr will allow me to make so this may be broken up into multiple posts/reblogs)

So a while back, everyone was designing GrandFest outfits for their OCs. Me, being a Blender user, was like "WHOA THAT'S SUCH A COOL IDEA I WANT TO JOIN IN!!!!" but obviously I have no modeling-from-scratch skills yet. The only thing I know how to do in Blender is how to attach Splatoon 2 clothing to a Splatoon 3 model and how to use Edit Mode to cut away pieces from a model.

BUT I WAS DETERMINED TO DO SOMETHING REGARDLESS OF MY ART SKILLS

So I quickly rendered the first render with Autumn (who wears a custom hairstyle of Haircut + Megalobraid here), Jewel, Derek, Monica, and Hunter - my agents - with the intent of just making outfits for them. I saved the aforementioned render to my iPad, opened Procreate, and began drawing. I wasn’t really going for any kind of theme for any of the outfits, and wanted to do some really custom clothing that didn’t exist in-game. I did, however, take inspiration from some of the clothing that already existed but that was about it.

It took two days to finish (as you can tell by Jewel and Derek having one date and Autumn, Monica, and Hunter having a different date) but it was fun! So fun, in fact, that I decided to make more outfits. 10 MORE OUTFITS, IN FACT. But that comes later, as one day I got bored and decided to actually attempt to model the outfits in Blender! And that was also fun! Yeah, it took the whole day but more importantly it was fun! So fun, in fact, that it only pushed me to make those 10 more outfits. So now we have everyone else’s outfit concepts (with actual existing clothing in mind), and the resulting Blender versions.

BEHOLD!

Jewel/Agent 3 (with a bonus bald pic showing her earrings)

Derek/Agent 5 and Kelly, with their matching rings (I LOVE THIS SHIP SO MUCH)

Found family brother-sister duo of I-Wei and Priscilla

Autumn/Agent 4 (with her usual hair) and Monica/Agent 8 with matching glasses

Hunter/Neo Agent 3 and Stitches, the two shortest characters in the line-up

Alecs, Kimberly, Ezra, and Morgan

And last but not least, Jeremy and Kaden

(Everyone's expressions in these screenshots match the ones I picked for the drawings)

I am SO HYPED to actually render everyone in their outfits but first I gotta go texture the GrandFest venues *cries*

Happy to answer any questions you might have about their outfits (like what clothing I used for everyone)

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meyobee · 1 year ago

Text

How would the brothers react to you hiding you’re phone from them?

Older brother edition

Lucifer

When he walked into his room he say you laying on his bed.

You had been kicking your feet and giggling to yourself.

He assumed one of his brothers sent you something.

Until, he walked towards you and saw you blushed.

You look at him and hid your phone under you.

He was never one to invade your space especially by going through you’re phone.

But you’d never hid your phone before.

“What was that” he asked, all expression gone from his face.

Before you had time to answer, he swiped the phone from under you.

You changed your passcode?

At this point he is thinking the worse.

Are you cheating on him? The Avatar of Pride himself??

He was enraged at this point.

He gave you one chance to explain yourself.

If it was a joke you’d better fes up before something serious happened.

You unlocked you’re phone only for him to see a picture of you wrapped around his arms while he was sleeping.

He could he your face peeking at the bottom of the picture.

You had been giggling at him sleeping?

He gave the most puzzled look.

You reassured him that you were admiring his beauty, even if he was drooling.

Mammon

You were waiting for him to finish up in the classroom.

Just as he was about to leave the class he heard you giggle.

Cute he thought.

You were facing the door allowing him to see your screen… or so he thought.

You have a blackout screen?

“Um Mc when’d ya get that thingy”

You ask him what thingy?

He shakes it off as nothing maybe you’ve always had that.

He’s walking you back home until you stop to type something and he tries to peer over at your screen but you hold your phone to your chest.

Something about privacy.

He stood quiet the way home.

Could you really be cheating , he thought the entire day.

He was quite at dinner, and went to sleep alone that night.

In the morning it didn’t feel right not having you by him but he didn’t know how to approach you.

Eventually you approached him.

He was silent.

“Are you cheating on me?”

His crooked voice broke the atmosphere.

“Ya been hiding your phone from me, not talkin to me or anything, if ya are I just hope you’re happy”

You quiet pulling out you’re phone to show him what you’ve been doing.

Planning a party? A birthday party? His birthday party.

He forgot his birthday was next week.

You had been trying to get everything in order before hand.

He cried in your arms and said sorry for saying that.

Levi

It was any other day like usual, joining him while he played games.

He had left to use the bathroom, leaving you in charge of the game.

You had beat the level and was waiting for him.

When he comes back he say you look at the door quickly before closing a tab.

He gave a very confused look.

Maybe you open an ad you didn’t mean to? He was hoping anyway.

He kept thinking about that tab though.

Even long after you left, he decided to try and revisit the tab.

But no, you deleted it.

He spent all night trying to find what you were hiding.

He didn’t confront you until a week later.

He ruled out all other opinions.

And when you rule out the impossible that only things that left is the truth.

He didn’t feel nervous of shy.

Now he was angry.

How could you?

After everything he did for you.

He slammed the computer on the table where you were seated.

“Mc I want to know what was so important that you had to delete the tab?”

This wasn’t like his usual self.

You gave him a grin and just about as he was going ti say something about laughing at a time like this-

You showed him a very rare Ruri-Chan figure. Under it is said purchased.

You explained that it was a surprise gift.

He immediately sank to his knees asking if you’ll ever forgive him?

A/n: Levi’s part isn’t a phone but wtv. And I’m restarting with this new account so all reblogs/comments/likes are very appreciated!!!🩵

Please read

#obey me mammon #obeyme lucifer #obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #mammon x reader #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! lucifer #lucifer x reader #levi x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me crack #obey me nightbringer #obey me luci x reader #obey me levi headcanons

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fairy-writes · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, can i please ask for prompt 19 with Jouno? Thank youu<3<3

THE SCENT OF IRON

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “It’s funny. Nowadays, people always expect a gun, but never a knife.”

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Jouno Saigiku x Reader

Word Count: 0.3k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Blood, Injuries, Knives

Notes: Yes I’m stealing my own title from a BSD/Tokyo Ghoul story I wrote. Don’t come for me.

(I’m also getting conflicting answers about what Jouno’s first name is. So lmk if I got it wrong, and I’ll edit this.)

YES, I KNOW IT’S SHORT. DON’T COME FOR ME

__________________________________________________________________________

It was hard to hide things from Jouno Saigiku.

Especially something like the overpowering scent of iron.

So it’s no wonder he picks up on it immediately when walking back to the Hunting Dogs headquarters. Typically, yes, he would take a cab or just call a car from the base to come and pick him up. But he had this nagging feeling that he wanted—no, needed to walk home from his mission today.

So he did. It wasn’t that far. In fact he could make the walk in about thirty minutes.

And all was well and good until he caught the scent of iron and the sharp odor of pain.

Saigiku paused, fingertips brushing against the stone and concrete of an alleyway entrance. He really should keep walking… He shouldn’t care about whoever was in pain down there.

At least, he didn’t care until he heard a gasp and realized it was you.

His feet carry him faster and faster until he almost trips over your extended feet and crouches at your side. He can feel the sticky, oozing blood soaking into his boots and realizes just how bad the situation is.

“Sai? What are you doing here?” You wheeze, and he feels his lips tug down into a frown.

“What happened?” He asked sternly, and you hissed out a stuttering laugh.

“Heh… It’s funny. Nowadays, people always expect a gun, but never a knife.” You whimper, and he hears your hand squish in the torn flesh of your side.

He probes your side, and you cry out. The wound is deep, and he can’t quite tell if there’s more than one stab wound or not. Knowing your luck, there likely were. But he presses on, removing his gloves to get a better idea of what’s going on.

All the while, he’s overpowered by the scent of the iron. It’s cloying and nauseating, making his stomach twist and turn in his abdomen. Usually, he’s fine. After all, he’s a Hunting Dog. But something about it being your blood makes it worse.

He ignores your cries and scoops you up into his arms. Your clothes are already soaked through, and he can hear the “pitter-patter” of the drops of blood falling onto the concrete.

You needed medical help.

Now.

He only hoped he could get you the help in time.

#jouno saigiku x reader #saigiku jouno x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #fairy writes #fairy1.6kfollowers

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neko-naruto · 11 months ago

Text

I've got the beats, I've got the bass (I've got the treats, for you to taste)

Summary: Floyd doubts there'll be a lot of him left to save when his brothers find him

Warnings: cannibalism, gore, amputation, Floyd is going through it, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: inspired by the Troll Twins AU by @ohposhers, im aware the cannibalism post was like, not official to the au, but the inner phan demanded i write this. title from DJ Whore by S3RL, hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checking out the ao3 port

edit 2023.12.28: WE GOT A SECOND CHAPTER OUT NOW!! it displays a small amount of comfort edit 2023.12.30: the third and final chapter has been posted, it's also been turned into a series because I have so many ideas about it

It's a little bit twisted, and a lot bit fucked up.

But they can't sing, they're Trolls and they can't sing, maybe if they were Classical it wouldn't be a problem. But they're born Pop and they can barely hold a note despite the fact they want to be famous so fucking badly. So they turn to the next best option, run away to Mount Rageous and make it big with a bunch of jello jointed freaks.

Of course, they still need an iota of talent to make it with even a bit of success.

Their method for getting that talent is beyond cruel, beyond human, beyond anything that could be conceived by a Pop Troll. But Velvet's everything but a Pop Troll these days, sadistic, uncaring, greedy- she'll get what she wants and she'll take her brother with her. She'll take her brother and the first unfortunate thing that has talent at that, figure out how to use that talent for herself and keep it.

Veneer always stared, unable to do anything as she worked, "Vel, this is-"

"Genius? I know," Velvet always answered with as she shucked slices of meat from the Troll under their ownership, paper thin and raw on a plate she'd hand to Veneer, "Eat up."

And he always did, he always fucking ate it. He always took his half and she always took her half, rejuvenating the talent they lacked with a small tray of raw meat from their own kin. She smiled this darling smile the entire time their captive watched them devour him, and Veneer tried to do the same.

"You two are fucked," Floyd argued as Velvet would bandage his arms and block off the bleeding because she had some civility despite everything. He'd clench and unclench his fist just to make sure he still could considering how spindly he was with how much they took away from him.

Velvet just giggles, "Maybe we'll take off your whole arm next, let you bleed out a bit," She traces a sharp nail across the joint of his shoulder. He shudders and tries to jerk away, the cuffs on his wrists make it shockingly hard to do so.

They get famous while he wastes away, chunk by chunk. They're erring closer to having a fame that reaches outside of Mount Rageous and he's erring closer to them having to nibble on his bones for his talent. The idea almost makes him laugh, but then he remembers that laughing hurts with how frail he is.

It's when Velvet enters the room with a hacksaw and a breaking knife that he cries for the first time. Tears welling up in his eyes and he can't bring himself to stifle them or wipe them away even though the cuffs are gone. He just sobs, aware of the fact that this is it, they're finally going to lop off his head.

"Oh don't be a baby," Velvet chided as she grabbed her marker, bright red, paint instead of ink, and dragged it along Floyd's thigh, just above his knee. She left a dotted line around his leg and he tries to stop crying.

"Do you have any anesthetic?" Floyd asked, trying to be smug.

Velvet gives this falsely contemplative hum, "Maybe," She lays down the jagged end of the hacksaw at the line, "But probably not."

Then she starts to cut, back and forth across the flesh with enough pressure to snap a rib. Teeth tear him open and he yowls, nerve endings fraying as his blood pools around him. It's shiny, not glittery per se, but definitely holding an almost opalescent sheen due to his Pop origins. It makes Velvet's mouth water, the fresh scent hitting her nose and she could tear into him with her own teeth right then and there but she doesn't.

No, she just forces further down through tendon and fat alike. His meat is both lean and marbled quite nicely with the diet they've been feeding him. Just enough to keep him alive, but fatty and carbohydrate heavy to make his flesh taste better and less tough. She presses the breaking knife beside the hacksaw when she hits the knob of the femur and presses hard until she hears something splinter. The scream accompanying it confirms her suspicions that she broke it as she cuts through marrow without any remorse.

He just whimpers and bites his tongue, hot tears still roll down his face as he watches her try and tear it the rest of the way. Twisting and yanking and it hurts so fucking bad but he can't do much to stop her. It comes off with this terrible sound and he wails as Velvet just lops off the skin with the breaking knife, aware she'll have to go at it more finely later.

"Shut up," Velvet demanded, tossing aside the leg and grabbing the bandage, "I'm not gonna let you die, or sleep through it."

He just nods as she bandages up his jagged stump, not even bothering to slice it smooth with her knife so the nerve endings aren't everywhere and torn every way possible. She bandages him with some semblance of care, he is their talent, he is their guinea pig, she can't just let him die. That'd be too nice of her considering how much talent is left on his bones, how much skill they can pilfer from his flesh.

"Hey Vel! We're running out of seasoning!" It's Veneer whose shouting down the hallways and Floyd hears.

"So I'm not good enough raw?" Floyd questioned, trying so very, very hard to be smug despite the pain coursing through every inch of his body.

Velvet scoffed, taking the leg and standing up, "Don't flatter yourself."

There's this stench of decay in Floyd's holding room by the time the twins are actually taken down. Even at that they aren't really taken down, just put in the slammer by their ever present assistant Crimp who would occasionally sneak some iron supplements into his food. She was nice, she was trampled on but she was nice, learned how to play ukulele to Floyd's singing and the such.

But she couldn't put back the flesh they stripped him of, tearing him down to his bones and even at that lopping limbs off. He's missing a leg below the knee and his entire right arm, shoulder down, and the rest of him is worryingly thin. Not because he was starved, far from him being starved, by the time he started running out of meat on his bones they upped his diet to try and make him last. It was futile really, they still tore off his skin and the flesh underneath it till all he had was bones with a paper thin layer of nerves and red wrapped in bandages.

The floor and walls are thoroughly saturated in the scent of his blood, his tears, and the medications they used to keep him from dying prematurely. Tranexamic acid to thicken his blood so he wouldn't bleed out. Midazolam to help him keep breathing even with the frailty in his everything. Benzodiazepines to stop his anxiety and force his muscles to ease up so his flesh wouldn't be so tense. Morphine, acetaminophen, risperidone, the list went on and on, he's pretty sure the nights he spent vomiting them up only hastened his wasting.

Dying would've been better than this though. Being torn apart, picked apart, used for his talent, having the life ripped out of him. At least none of his brothers had to see him like this, at least Branch didn't have to see him so ruined. He'd be the worst brother ever if Branch had to see him like this, if any of them did. Traumatized for life, he doubts he could live with himself if any of them got nightmares from seeing him in such a zombified state.

He winces when the door opens and light filters in, the rush of uncontaminated air doesn't reach him through the overpowering scent of decay. He can barely make out the silhouettes as Trolls, and instead of being defiant like he usually is, he crumbles. He can't fight it anymore, he's on his last leg to a literal degree and he knows he'll die if they take anymore.

"I'm out of talent," He begged, tears welling up once again, "I'm dead, just look at me," His voice catches on a sob.

They take one step further in, "Floyd?"

Floyd barely recognizes the voice, but he still sobs, even harder knowing it's one of his brothers, "I told you it was a trap, John," He's laughing now, it hurts so much but he's laughing regardless. He tries to shove himself up but everything hurts too much to do so, "Why did you bring our brothers?"

"Cause last time you were in a diamond holding cell! Now you're in a fucking closet that smells like shit," John snapped before stepping even further in, one step at a time. He was still getting used to the low light, his three younger brothers followed in suite.

"Don't! Just, leave!" It's a plea, it's the closest Floyd can get to a demand. He desperately thrusts out a paw like it'll stop them even though he knows it won't, and the action rubs the bandages against his raw nerves the wrong way. There's a hiss of agony, "Please, don't."

"We came here to save you," Bruce butted in with.

"I left my tribe to find you, Floyd," Clay said, stepping more gingerly than the others, "We're taking you home."

"Do you want to stay here?" Branch questioned.

And Floyd just sobbed, raising his paw to his face to try and hide himself away from them, hitching his good leg to his chest to hide the bandages. He whimpered and cried as they finally stepped close enough to see him in all of his ruination. The footsteps stop and he knows they're all riddled with disgust, riddled with fear, with regret, with shame. Their brother who looks like he was sent through the wood chipper, their brother who promised he'd come back, their brother, destroyed.

"I told you to leave," He whispers the word, eyes shut and body limp because he can't bear to see their disgust, "I fucking told you."

Paws gently lift him up, cradling him in a set of arms and he keeps sobbing, curling into whoever held him. He doesn't know which one it is because they all wear vests and open front shirts, in the past at least. He just knows he's holding on tight and apologizing for all the blood he's getting on their fur despite the repetition of 'its okay' being spoken back softly.

-/-/-/-

Floyd is out cold in the back of John Dory's van, strapped down with strips of the emergency roll of scrap booking felt that Poppy always brings with her. Branch has never been more pleased in his entire life that his girlfriend is a weirdo who always needs to scrap book because it's keeping his brother secured. He still feels absolutely sick to the stomach and he's not sure if it's the vile smell of rotting blood or the disgust with what Velvet and Veneer had done. All of them feel nauseated.

"Is he gonna make it?" Clay is the one who breaks the silence.

"Of course he will, we have the best doctors across any genre," Branch snapped back with, the sharpness of his voice unintentional.

Clay shrinks back just a bit, but shoots something back just as sharply, "Sorry to hit a nerve."

"Can we not argue right now?" Poppy asked, leaning between the two with this nervous look on her face, "Please?"

Branch crosses his arms and slumps against the wall of the van, Clay mirrors the motions.

Bruce clears his throat, "Poppy's right, we should just get Floyd under medical care as soon as possible."

"Is he even awake?!" John shouted from the front, eyes still firmly fixed on the road but body riddled with concern and fear and so many other things.

"He passed out!" Bruce shouted back.

Branch leans up against Poppy, "I'm scared," It's a whisper, it barely comes out at all. He never thought he'd admit an emotion as vulnerable as fear to a Troll as loud as Poppy.

Poppy just wraps an arm around his shoulders before whispering back, "It'll be okay," even though she doesn't know if it will.

"What if it isn't?" Branch asked just as quietly.

Poppy doesn't have an answer.

There's this low groan from the back of the van, no one up front dares to move because Bruce is already back there. They don't want to send Floyd ricocheting into another freak out, "Where am I?"

"In John's van," Bruce answered with.

Floyd tried to move but he couldn't, panic shot through him. His breathing hastened just a bit, "Why am I tied down?" He tries to quell the fear resting so heavily on his voice, weighing down on his calm and cool exterior.

"Because you're not doing so hot, it's for safety," Bruce said, trying to keep his voice soft, slipping into dad mode without even realizing it, "We'll take them off as soon as we get home, okay?"

Floyd gave this weak semblance of a nod, "Okay, is Branch here?"

The aforementioned brother scrambles to get to the back of the van, "Of course I am."

"Sorry you had to see me so messed up," Floyd apologized and Branch feels like crying at the comment because it's so fucked up that Floyd is saying sorry for being destroyed when he could do nothing.

"Floyd, it's fine, you couldn't," Branch tries to speak, he really does, but a whole lot of nothing comes up. He just holds onto Floyd's paw desperately tight, "We should've been there sooner."

"You had your own lives," Floyd countered with, "Thanks for saving me anyways."

"We'll always be there to save you, Floyd," Bruce supplied in place of Branch who was just rendered nonverbal.

"Is he gonna walk again?" Branch asked.

The doctor shook her head, "Even with prosthetics using Funk technology and Rock materials, he still doesn't have enough meat on his bones to properly move them to their full extent."

"Can't you give him a graft?" Clay asked, "I read about it, skin grafts, muscle grafts, take some flesh and use it somewhere else."

"I absolutely would but the thing is," She gives this sigh before gesturing to Floyd's body.

He's near skeletal, not enough of the right bio chemicals in him to scab up everywhere, he's torn up and raw. With the bandages removed he looks even more zombie, even if he is asleep over a hospital cocktail with light analgesia. It wasn't supposed to knock him out, just ease the pain, but apparently he was destroyed enough that the small amount of alcohol did knock him down. His arm is as thin as Clay's, in some places stripped to the bone. His good leg and his other thigh have chunks ripped out of them, whole sections of muscle and tendon alike removed but not quite to the bone there. His ribs are pronounced, so are his collar bones, and the crests of his pelvis, not enough flesh to keep the sharpness hidden.

"There isn't anything to take and use elsewhere. He's a shell of his former self, if we're lucky we can stabilize him and keep him on light foods until he fills out a bit. Then he'll be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, if we're lucky he'd be able to use a prosthetic with crutches on a good day," The doctor explained. A deep sense of horror knotted itself onto the brothers stomachs. Not enough flesh to do a graft, of course there isn't enough leftover, he's a skeleton for fucks sake! They're glad Floyd isn't awake to hear about his brand new future (they don't know he'll take anything so long as he isn't in the hands of Velvet and Veneer).

John Dory won't stand for it, "Hey doc, if you have a donor with the same blood type or whatever, it could work, theoretically speaking," He's grasping at straws really, but he doesn't want his baby brother to live a life without dancing, or going on walks, or any other thing that he can think of. He'd sooner die than use a wheel chair, his life was the mountains, his life was rough terrain. And even though he doesn't know if Floyd feels the same, he doesn't want his brother robbed.

"Are you insane?" Was what Bruce said before the doctor could answer.

"I was in the woods living off of swamp scum and bird carcass for twenty years, I absolutely am," He presses a digit to Bruce's chest as he speaks and shoves him back, "I want my brother to walk with us, to dance with us."

"He can do it in a wheel chair," Bruce countered with, "Medical advances have been made, we've come really far in twenty years."

"Guys," Clay butted in with, they both snapped to glare at him, "Let the doctor speak before you tear your heads off."

"It could work, hypothetically, but if his body rejects the graft for some inane reason he might not make it through the night. Although he might not make it either way given his current condition," The doctor said, "It's up to you four to call the shots because he's out cold."

They all share a tense glance.

"We all have the same blood type," Branch got out quietly.

"Blood type O, universal donor, can only take other O's," Clay tacked on.

"And our fur would match his, he wouldn't look totally frankensteined," John said.

Bruce stayed quiet.

"It's up to you, Bruce, this could work," Branch pressed.

"Fine, just don't take too much off of me," Bruce said, "I have a wife who would not appreciate me coming home butchered."

"Bruce, this is about Floyd," Clay said rather sternly, "We all know your wife will love you no matter how bloody you are."

"Guess some things never change, like your whole 'gotta look good' thing," John teased.

The doctor cleared her throat and all eyes were on her, "If we want to have enough time we'll need to put you under for surgery in the next hour or so, the clock is ticking."

"I'm doing it,"

"Count me in,"

"Me too,"

"So am I,"

-/-/-/-

All of them are unconscious when they're stolen from, strips of flesh taken from their serratus anterior and latissimus dorsi so no one has to see the scars when it's over. They're carefully cut open and extracted, a little bit of skin came with it because Floyd didn't have enough skin himself these days. At least when he still had the bandages on they could lie and say he had scabs and skin, lie and say the stench was because he hasn't had a shower in months, not because his blood refused to dry properly and rot and infect instead.

Mismatched muscles are stitched into the gaping lacerations across his body, surgical glue used around the edges just to make sure. Patches of his brothers skin from where their flesh was taken are stitched atop to try and hide the raw flesh, bright red and shimmery, it might help stimulate his body into trying to regrow his own skin. Otherwise he'll always have scars a deeper hue than his blood beside skin held on with stitches like he's one of Frankenstein's monsters, unfinished and abandoned.

Except his brothers are risking their own hide to try and bring him back from his virtually undead state, so close to death he might as well bury himself. He has four brothers letting themselves be butchered so he'll be able to move his remaining limbs, so he'll be able to live without the risk of developing a medication tolerance too strong. He has four brothers that are giving a doctor permission to take a piece out of them to sew into him instead, maybe if he were awake he'd say something about how poetic that is, how they'll never be apart again.

But he isn't awake, instead he's blissfully asleep on a small shot that was supposed to make him more sociable and numb the pain. He passed out rather fast after taking it, and then his brothers could begin discussing the truth of the matter without Floyd. If he was awake when they brought up the graft they know he would defy it, they know he would say it isn't right for them to make that sacrifice. They also know their brother would waste away without their help, waste away without any extra meat, exposed bone doesn't scream 'healthy' in Pop Village.

There's an extraction from Bruce first, tactfully cut from his lower back and laid atop Floyd's rib cage. Slid over top the painfully thin muscles in thin slices, some if it was placed along his hips to add padding to his painfully prominent bones. To make him less skeletal, it was mostly cosmetic on that front, but if he tripped and fell he could shatter like glass with how exposed they were. He'd shatter and there'd be so much blood it would leave someone scarred for life, so much whimpering because punctured lungs leaves no room for screaming.

The doctor takes from John Dory next because of how insistent he was on the procedure, how insistent he was to make sure Floyd could have flesh again. It's taken from one thigh, a solid chunk taken out and replaced with an almost jelly substance. He'd collapse when he walked without a substitute of some sort, he'll be reduced to crutches until he gets used to it. A consequence perhaps, or just cruel fate that he has the perfect cut of meat to fill one of the larger gaps in Floyd's good leg. He's restitched with most of his skin, but again, a good chunk of it goes to his little brother, to keep him from drying in the sun.

"What's happening?" It's Floyd, waking up strapped down and held open with someone holding a piece of meat. He instantly goes to thrash, scared, afraid, oh god he thought he escaped. What a cruel dream, imagining his brothers would actually pull through, he's still stuck.

"Calm down, Floyd," The doctor said, "We're in a hospital, giving you a surgery, your safe, your brothers are safe."

Floyd tries to nod, "Why am I awake?"

"Analgesia knocked you out, it just wore off," She said, grabbing a needle, "So please, hold still."

He does as told, needle sliding through his skin with ease. It only stings a little bit as he anesthetic pushes through his veins rather sluggishly. The doctor falters on using another needle to actually knock him out and only chooses against it when he drifts back to sleep. There's a long pause of no motion, no advances, just in case he wakes back up again, but when he doesn't she continues.

Placing John's flesh into the cavity of Floyd's leg and stitching it closed, surgical glue to keep it in place after he's been closed up. The stitches almost match his fur, thread off by a single shade, just a bit darker than he is. And it keeps staining on the blood inside of him when the needle goes through, keeps picking up that red pigment that shines like liquid gold. She'll rinse it clean after the surgery is done, after he's patched up using chunks of his brothers who love him so much they'd tear themselves apart for him.

She hesitates to take anything off of Clay because he's already spindly. But he wants to give as well, he's the one who remembered their blood types were all O despite the odds. He gets the exterior layer of skin from his lower back shucked off unforgivingly, he's too thin to take his muscle, that'd put him in danger. The flesh is stitched onto the nub just above Floyd's knee, where he was amputated without any reason. The jagged gore won't connect to a prosthetic very well, it's smoothed with a scalpel before the skin is put into place. Definitely not the average surgical move, but whatever it takes to keep a patient alive, including slicing off bits of meat in need of replacement. It's rotten flesh anyways, always exposed to air and never allowed to properly heal, it reeks of death like the rest of his body.

Branch is the final one taken from, strips out of his thighs spliced into Floyd's arms length wise. They fill out nicely, rest atop the bone in such a fashion they look like they belonged in his arm instead of Branch's leg. The hue of the flesh and the hue of the skin didn't match, the gray that Branch experienced still held strong even upon being cut up and stitched to a new body. It really makes Floyd look chimeric, like a rotten, decaying, beast of mythology that shouldn't be able to exist. And if he makes it out alive he'll fit the description perfectly because his heart rate should've dropped off the face of the planet by now, but it hasn't, he's still alive somehow.

He's still alive and so far his body isn't rejecting the sacrifices his brothers are making for him. It's a miracle really, them getting him to the hospital on time to get him stabilized for a surgery is also miracle. And maybe the defiance John Dory held over letting Floyd be forced into a wheel chair will bring advances to the medical field, probably not. But this in itself is amazing, the fact he's getting pulled together by thread and woke up not coughing blood is absurd.

Maybe when he wakes up at the designated time he still won't cough up blood.

-/-/-/-

John Dory wakes up last, "What happened?" He swings his leg over the edge of his bed and hisses because it hurts real bad.

Bruce is face down on his bed, "We gave Floyd a muscle graft, remember?"

"Right," John answered with before going to stand, he instantly collapsed, heavily leaning on the small table. Crutches, he grabs them instantly to prop himself up, knees shaking, "Where's Floyd?"

"I'm over here," Came Floyd's voice from the other side of the room, he was hobbling over with his new leg. It looked sleek, a lovely metallic sheen to it due to the materials and the Funk craftsmanship ties it together, the shape similar enough to an organic leg. He's using a crutch to walk over, fresh flesh in his thigh sore, but working with a bit of weight alleviation.

"You look great man!" Elation is heavy on John's voice as he tries to take a step over with the crutches. He nearly falls, "Whose are these?"

"Yours, the substitute for the chunk they took out of you is still fresh. It's gonna take time to walk 'normally' with it, but crutches are easy after a bit," Floyd explained, "Thanks."

John sits back down on his bed, "Well jeez, your welcome bro, but I may have to take that flesh back if I can't walk."

"You're lucky you aren't in a wheel chair," Bruce stated boldly, rolling onto his side just a bit, "The doc said that it was almost so bad you'd need one, you're lucky."

"Say, where's Branch? And Clay?" John asked, changing the subject with ease.

Floyd shrugged with one shoulder, the prosthetic not responding as much as desired, "I'm pretty sure they're in the room next too us, still asleep. When I asked the doctor she said they were still alive."

"They fucking better be, I'll crush her skull with these stupid crutches if they aren't," John snarled out.

"See, you're already in love with them," Floyd teased, "I'm sure Branch will outfit them to your style once he's done with his recovery."

Bruce gives a laugh, "Karma."

"Shut up," He pointed the end of his crutch at Bruce threateningly.

Bruce just batted it away with his paw, "How dangerous."

"Guys, neither of you are in condition to get in fight,"

"Beg to differ,"

"I could kick his ass no matter what,"

Floyd sighed, taking a couple disjointed steps closer to take a seat at the foot of Bruce's bed. He leans his crutch on the edge, "You could not, you're a dad."

"Makes me even better at tossing little shits around," Bruce countered with.

John is quick to try and breach the small gap, he ends up face first in Bruce's bed. It garners a loud laugh, "Shut up," it's a muffled plea, "How long are we gonna be in this place for?"

"A considerable while," Floyd offered nervously, "It varies between us. Me, you, and Branch are gonna be here the longest because we need some physical rehab, might be permanent for you and Branch, it will for me."

Bruce hoists up John fully onto the mattress, "I'm regretting saving your life," Bruce clips the back of his head for that comment.

Floyd just laughs, "Gee, I love you too."

#troll twins au #trolls world tour #trolls fanfic #trolls floyd #velvet and veneer #trolls #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw gore #tw body horror #tw cannibalism

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