#and when I got back I just laid down in bed and did something vaguely between existence and non-existence

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do. 

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong. 

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them. 

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down. 

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.  

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable. 

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room. 

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family. 

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt. 

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you. 

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life. 

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice. 

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever. 

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets. 

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits. 

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp. 

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different. 

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited. 

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.  

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him. 

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings. 

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed. 

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder. 

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk. 

You could see something change in his eyes. 

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms. 

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success. 

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING. 

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you. 

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail. 

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Charlie Morningstar xreader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #injured reader

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Y’all are the absolute funniest most of the tags/comments on part 2 were either “oh shit Nancy????” Like we as a collective Steddie hivemind genuinely forgot Steve and Nancy were a Thing for a minute and I think that’s so sexy of us. OR y’all went “OH THANK FUCK ROBIN REMEMBERS” which. Y’all. Y’all don’t understand how little control I actually have over this fic 😂 like genuinely I’m not creating anything, it’s writing itself, I’m just writing the words down. It’s fantastic. 😂 also keep in mind I have a tentative posting schedule of every 4 days so expect something on/around the 16th! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Eddie runs.

He’s terrified and a coward but it’s kept him alive this long so he runs, books it back to his van, ignores Harrington calling out for him, only realizes when he’s most of the way home that he’s still got the ring clenched in his hand.

He stares at it long enough at a stoplight that someone honks at him when it turns green. “What the fuck,” he whispers again, placing it on his desk when he gets home. “What the fuck.”

Wayne knocks on his door then immediately pokes his head in, which completely defeats the purpose of the knock, but Eddie’s door was open anyways. “Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“Y’alright, kiddo?”

“I think I hallucinated.”

Wayne’s silent for a few long moments. “Did you take somethin’? Or are you bein’ dramatic?”

“I didn’t take anything.”

Wayne sighs. “Wanna tell me what you think you hallucinated?”

He’s about to, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite say it. Like there’s a dam at the front of his mouth, and the words can’t break through. He lets out a desperate chuckle and shakes his head, flopping backwards onto his bed. “I don’t even know.”

Wayne raises a brow, but before he can respond, there’s a knock on the trailer door.

Knock is a polite term for it. It’s more like someone’s trying to break down the door with their fist. “Munson!” Someone yells. “Open this door, dammit, or I will drag you out by your ears?”

“Boy,” Wayne says, looking at him. “What the fuck did you get yourself into?”

Eddie groans, grabs his pillow, and screams into it.

When he surfaces for air, Wayne’s gone, talking to the person at the front door. Eddie vaguely recognizes the voice. Female, young, probably someone he has a class with.

Wayne, the traitor, lets her in, and Eddie’s suddenly faced with a furious Robin Buckley. He blinks. “Buckley?”

He tries to think back, but he hadn’t sold her anything recently—or ever, for that matter—so he has no idea why she’s here, looking like she’s about to murder him. “You said you’d listen.”

He blinks again. Sits up to face her. “What?”

“Steve. He told you.”

“Steve- Harrington? Oh, come on, Buckley, are you delusional too?”

Blue eyes narrow at him. “You’ve got a little stick-n-poke on your thigh. It’s an upside down star. It’s crappy ‘cause you did it yourself, but that’s why you love it. He already said your favorite song, so I won’t repeat it. You’ve had a frankly ridiculous crush on him practically since the moment you laid eyes on him. You call your guitar your sweetheart because that’s what your mom called you, and she’s the one who taught you to play.” She crosses her arms. “I can keep going.”

“I suppose you’re from the future, then, too?” Her words catch up to him and he suddenly blanches. “I, uh, I’m not sure about your second point.”

She softens some, which is rather unexpected, but he’s grateful. “Oh, Eddie.” She sits on the edge of his bed. “Me too. It’s alright. I’m sorry, I got upset because you ran, after you told Steve you’d listen, and…” she sighs, looking around his room, before standing when she catches sight of the ring on his desk. She picks it up and studies it. “This is practically all we have left,” she says softly, and Eddie feels like throwing up.

“Because I die?”

She looks at him like she’s seeing a ghost. “Yeah.”

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#if I should stay #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #time travel fic #starambles

[vixenobrian]

Seeing Ghosts

This is the first fic I've written here, so I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

---------------------------------------------------

"Bradley honey, I'm home!"

No answer.

I sighed, setting down the groceries on the island countertop. I knew he was home, the Bronco sitting in the driveway was a clear indication of that, but I also knew why I had received radio silence.

"How was Mav?" I asked, almost scared of the answer myself.

"Mav's fine hun." Bradley retorted. He must have been upstairs in the bedroom, hiding away from me. I understood how hard this must have been on him, but not seeing my husband run down the stairs and greet me with a kiss when I walked through the door still kind of hurt my feelings. Still, I knew how important his space was after his visits.

"How are you bubs?" I called back. Nothing.

Mav had been in and out of the hospital for months now, more and more parts of his body slowly giving way. For a man who wasn't supposed to live past his 30s, everyone was certainly surprised to see it was in fact old age that did him in. Recently though, it was his brain that was going, and this seemed to be the hardest on everyone.

Bradley had been struggling, badly. Between his parents and Ice, Mav was the only one he had left, and to see him slowly slipping away, losing both his body and mind at the same time? Bradley had barely been able to stand it. Each night he would come home after visiting, crawl into bed, and simply lay his head on my chest and cry. I really wasn't sure what else to do at this point, other than be there for him.

I sighed, grabbing the fancy bottle of wine I picked up from the grocery store, before heading upstairs. We both needed a pick me up, and what better way than a good wine, and a home-cooked meal.

"Roos, darling," I called, slightly pushing open the door to our bedroom. I vaguely caught a glimpse of his figure, but I pushed right past it, wanting to grab the things I knew he needed and was probably avoiding. When he got like this, he tended to neglect his medicine, and I knew if I took a glance at him, I would have too. I grabbed the bottle off of the bathroom counter, seeing it right next to his spread-out shaving kit. I pushed back into the bedroom, finally looking him in the eyes.

"Roos, I have a- oh God!"

Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, his big broad shoulders slumped over in defeat. I could tell he had been crying by the dark red circles around his eyes, but none of this is what concerned me. Above Rooster's top lip laid no mustache, something he had worn with pride for years. He always considered it his best feature and took meticulous care in grooming it. I had never even seen him without it. I knew something had to have been terribly wrong.

I sat down the wine on the dresser, my excitement fleeting with the bottle, before reaching for his face. I brought my legs over him, straddling his lap, before taking his face into both of my heads. Immediately, I began to wipe his tears, while simultaneously peppering kisses to his cheeks.

"Roos, honey, what happened?"

"He called me Nick again."

My heart sank, pulling him fully into my embrace. I felt tears start to fall from my own eyes and the boy beneath me began to sob, shaking in my embrace. His hands clenched the back of my shirt, as I attempted to comfort him in his sorrows.

"Bradley, I am so sorry," I said. I felt guilty. I felt anger toward Maverick, even though I knew none of it was his fault. Still, he had hurt Bradley, my Bradley, and the anger that came with that radiated through me. I took a deep breath, trying to push these emotions down.

"I just want him to see me" He whimpered into my shoulder. My hand found the nape of his neck, slowly playing with his hair there. It was his comfort spot, and I felt him slowly relax into me, letting all of his body weight fall freely as if we were being combined into one. I let him lay here for a few minutes, switching between playing with his hair and rubbing his back, before slowly backing away, and once again taking his face into my hands.

"Bradley, honey, I am so sorry that happened to you, but I need you to know, no matter what happens, Maverick loves you so much sweet boy," I comforted, "and on top of that, I love you so much. So no matter what, you are loved, Bradley."

He pulled me in the back of my neck, planting a sweet kiss right on my lips. The lack of hair felt foreign to me and caught me off guard. I pulled away, still holding his face in my hands, when I noticed his cheeks turning a color red.

"So, how bad is it?" He asked genuinely, causing me to chuckle.

"You are still the most handsome man in the world Bradshaw," I told him genuinely, "but how long before it grows back?"

#miles teller #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #top gun: maverick #rooster top gun #top gun #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw angst

[screamforyani]

hazy

warnings: noncon, drugging

wc. 705

requested

every wednesday night, you studied at ethan’s house. 

you weren’t particularly close, if you were telling the truth. he was your classmate in econ that you sat beside and you kept each other sane for two whole hours straight, rarely ever speaking outside of that. 

that was until you decided to start studying together, of course. ethan was smart, you were pretty smart, and together you could probably pass the exam. at least, those were your intentions. ethan’s were far more malicious.

so when you woke up thursday morning feeling entirely discombobulated, you were a little bit - or a lot bit - lost.

“ethan?” you called out, scanning the room. 

it was definitely ethan’s. you were in his bed, for one. you saw your computer and bookbag laid across his desk, along with a half-drank glsss of water that you paid no mind to. you were looking for ethan. you managed to crane your head to the right - god, you felt so sluggish - and saw him peaking through the doorway. 

he flashed his teeth in a warm, innocent smile. “good morning. you passed out after a while last night. said something about feeling really tired so i let you take my bed and i slept on the couch. i hope that’s not weird or anything.”

“no - no, of course not,” you stammered, sitting up. “it’s fine. thank you.”

it was somewhat uncomfortable to move. you didn’t remember what happened last night, but your body sure did. you felt stupidly sore, slight ache spreading throughout your bottom half like wildfire. you couldn’t put your finger on it. maybe you slept in a really awkward position.

ethan seemed to notice your grimacing, donning a worried face. “what’s wrong? are you hurt?”

“i don’t know. i just feel… weird,” you replied, eyes flickering. you felt so out of it. there wasn’t really a way to explain it that made sense.

“weird how?” ethan asked, approaching you.

you shook your head, trying to remember. you remembered jotting down notes. and you remembered completely abandoning the notes to talk about movies with ethan. the rest of your memories were pretty vague until you couldn’t recall anything else at all. “like… sore. i feel like the morning after a marathon,” you joked, trying to lighten the air.

“do you need anything?” ethan questioned, rushing to your side. you could see his eyebrows furrow with concern, like he genuinely wanted to make sure that you were okay. so you fell for it. “something to eat, something to drink?”

“just some water, please.”

“you’ve got it,” he said, jogging out of the room.

you didn’t see his worried face fall and the smirk curling onto his lips when he turned the corner, thoughts of last night returning to him. you didn’t remember, but he would never forget. with how unresponsive you were, you might as well have been dead when he slipped your panties down to your ankles and forced himself deeply inside you, fucking you rough and hard.

maybe he should have been more gentle, but his lust got the best of him. he lost control of the reins, his body taking over - taking what it wanted. besides, it wasn’t all that bad that he’d gone rough on you. not for him, at least. he got to hear you tell him the effect he had on your body, how sore he made you feel even hours later.

god, could you even walk? he would love to see you limp around, obviously hurt. 

and he did get to see you limp around. even better, he got to help you walk, putting on his sweet facade because he loved how you would never suspect him. not the boy that was kind enough to be your human crutch. 

he remembered fucking you full of cum, time and time again until he started to wear himself out. then, cleaning you up and dressing you again, putting everything back in place. so when you got sick, pregnancy was your last guess. you thought you were just under the weather.

and of course, it was ethan who got you medicine and took care of you while you fretted about your sickness that would surely pass in a few days.

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream 6 imagines #ethan landry

[sopebubbles]

Five

Master list

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: You think you can take care of yourself, but you'd be wrong. There's an alpha more than willing to step in to do the job.

Warnings: that evil little voice in your head, Yoongi pushing your boundaries to save your damn life, but does that mean he can't enjoy it a little?

You could hear the pack move around the house. The sounds of pots and pans and laughter floated into your room just as easily as their scents did. The unfamiliarity of it made your inner voice whine. Not the unfamiliarity of them. Their scents had already become lodged in your brain. You were sure you'd be able to smell them weeks from now, just by memory. You'd think of that beta every time you washed your sheets, if you ever owned a bed again. 

Should have asked the beta to stay.

Why on earth would he want to stay with you?

No, the combination of such joy that could be known to the senses even a room away, even to a stranger, was something that you couldn't have imagined. It brought to mind no memories, for you had never known something like that.

They forgot you were here. Otherwise how could they be so happy? No one has ever been happy with your presence.

Your previous pack never sounded like that. They never laughed, not happily. They only ever bickered and yelled. And if they laughed it was only at one another's expense, especially yours. This pack smelled like laughter. Their scents were bubbly and bright as they moved around the downstairs just beyond the walls that enclosed you, protecting their joy from your bitter, poisonous presence. You laid and listened, your apple scent rotting more and more, so that no one would confuse you for being part of them, especially not yourself. 

Their bliss seemed to carry on for hours, although your perception of time was tenuous. It seemed hours later when Hoseok finally came to your room again. He knocked gently before letting himself in. 

"Good morning, pup. I brought you something to eat. You must be starving." He set down a plate on the bedside table before looking down at you. "I thought you could take a bath and I could change your sheets," he added, gesturing with the towel draped over his arm. 

"I'm fine," you grumbled, rolling over to avoid his gaze. You were vaguely aware of the physical ache of hunger in your empty stomach, but it merely ranked with the other urges you refused to indulge. Hunger, just another animal instinct you must overcome by sheer force of will. 

"You're a wreck," he chuckled.

"Just leave me alone."

Hoseok sighed. "I know you're upset, and you probably feel like shit, but you'll feel a lot better when you've had a bath and something to eat," he pushed, his tone letting you know that he was barely holding onto his patience. 

"I don't need you to take care of me," you snarled, turning back to face him. You took in the other omega and softened. His dark chocolate eyes were heavy, but you couldn't tell if the pinched set of his lips was sadness or annoyance. His throat was covered in deep purple bruises, a particularly large one placed at the curve of his shoulder to his neck. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Did they do that to you?"

"What?" Confusion did not displace annoyance in his voice. You lightly touched your fingertips to your own throat. "Oh, that," he laughed airily, as if it didn't matter, but a bit of pink dusted his cheeks. "They got a little carried away. You've got them all riled up."

You frowned. "I'm sorry they hurt you because of me."

"What? No. Believe me, they've done worse," he chuckled. But his voice wavered as you curled in on yourself. "They just get a little pushy and possessive sometimes."

"I know how alphas are." Hoseok cocked his head at your declaration. "The bastards only want to breed you."

Hoseok bristled. "I don't know what kind of alphas you've had but mine are good men. They just can't help themselves sometimes."

You've heard all the excuses before, made plenty of them yourself. You looked up at him with wide eyes and kept your voice low so the alphas outside wouldn't hear you. "You don't have to put up with it, you know? You can leave. It's not easy, living like this. But it's better than being used by them."

Hoseok wrinkled his nose at you. "I'd never leave my pack." The clear disgust in his tone, aimed at you, turned your stomach. 

Just like Jimin, you knew he'd never understand. Maybe they were right. Maybe it wasn't the pack that was wrong. Maybe packs were good, and it was only you that was wrong. So wrong. A sweet little omega like Hoseok who knew the right things to do and always took care of everyone, even a useless little wretch like you, who wouldn't want him? Who wouldn't treat him well? For him, an alpha could be everything they were supposed to be. Not you. Worthless omega. 

You rolled onto your side, away from Hoseok and the vicious voice in your head. He hovered for a moment, seemingly unsure of himself. Then he walked to the end of the bed and picked up the blanket from the floor where you had banished it after Jungkook left last night. With a flourish, he fluffed it out over your curled form, only for you to kick it off you and fling it into the corner of the room. 

"Get out!" You snapped at him. "Leave and don't come back. I'll take care of myself." You knew you couldn't leave. Jimin probably wouldn't let you even if you tried. But you didn't have to be around Hoseok. And if you pissed him off with your petulence, all the better. He could just leave you to rot.

"Y/N–"

"Hobi," a gentle voice called from the hallway. "I think it's best if you give her some space." 

Hoseok had never met an omega like you. He'd never met anyone like you. Someone who didn't accept comfort or company, much less seek it out. Someone whose moods could turn on a dime. Someone who didn't nest and wouldn't eat! You were an enigma to him. 

Hoseok had grown up in a large and well connected pack, with multiple alphas and omegas and plenty of children. His parents had taught him that while an alpha's role was to provide and protect, an omega's role was to ensure the health and harmony of the pack. His own omega might have implied that an omega was more necessary to the pack than an alpha, but that was just between them. What they emphasized above all else was that the pack meant power and protection, and for Hoseok having a good pack of his very own became a sole ambition. 

It wasn't very hard to achieve either. He has known Jin since they were both in grade school. Their families were of similar status, higher than most Lykos ever reached, both of them descending from early diplomats in Lykos-Sapiens relations who reaped the benefits several generations down the line. Jin's family boasted political leaders while Hobi's had their hands in business, but both the alpha and omega had been born near the tail end of rather large families. As a result, their ambitions didn't have to reach quite so high as the others. There's only so much spotlight after all, and Seokjin and Hoseok had found each other in the shadows of rooms full of much more important people. 

Jin had loved Hobi's sharp tongue, while he admired the alpha's integrity. They had the same expectations from life, which largely consisted of a comfortable home and each other's company. So they married when they were barely eighteen and twenty years old and started a life together. 

They were content for several years until Jungkook came along and contentedness gave way to a feeling of completion. An alpha, a beta, and an omega. A perfect little pack. Hoseok had never wanted a pack quite as large as the one he came from and he thought the three of them would be plenty until they decided to have pups. He thought if he did have a larger pack then certainly he would have at least one other omega to help out, but his boys only ever seemed to bring home alphas, at least until Jimin. After that, things had settled until another omega was nothing more than a secret wish that he kept to himself, only expressed in moments of frustration as an off-hand comment. His alphas were more than enough, he assured them, especially Tae and Jimin who were particularly afraid of becoming a burden. 

And now an omega without a pack had fallen right into his lap, but it was you and everything about you was wrong. It wasn't your fault, the others had been extremely clear about that. But he knew very little about Sapiens, if he were being completely honest. He'd not spent a lot of time around them nor had any close friends who were sap. For him, their bigotry and cruelty was merely an idea with which he had no experience. He'd heard of it, but never seen it first hand. He'd gone to a private school for Lykos. He'd moved from his family pack's house to an apartment with Jin, and he had never encountered the likes of you. Even Yoongi and Jimin, troubled as their families were, had at least one parent to teach them about who they were. You were an apple trying your hardest to be a peach and seeking not to even know how impossible that was.

Your rejection had been difficult for all of the pack. Jungkook and Yoongi went to the gym on Sunday afternoon to escape the house for a few hours. Jimin took Taehyung to the art store for supplies and for dinner because it had been too long since they'd spent time alone together. Namjoon, for better or worse, had papers to grade, so he spent most of the day at the kitchen table with scent blockers in his nose so he could focus. Jin searched the internet for the pack's dream house and tried to show his mate his best finds, which the omega normally would have actively participated in. But instead, Hobi stewed.

Come night time, Jungkook was in his proper place between Hobi and Tae, and it was Yoongi's turn to work a night shift. Jimin waited on the couch for him, eager to avoid another accident, and the two went up to join their packmates in the early hours of the morning. 

By 9 am, only Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung were left in the house, and the latter two were sleeping the morning away. It was difficult, but the omega managed to respect your request that he leave you be. With the small exception that he left snacks and water outside of your door. But you never opened up to take them. 

"I guess I can understand why she would be nervous about all the alphas in the house, but why me? Why does she hate me?" He asked Yoongi in the afternoon.  His response to you the day before hadn't been what he'd wanted. His first thought had been to defend his pack, not to listen to your concerns. In his estimation, based on his admittedly sheltered experience, any alpha you had encountered so far had clearly not been worthy of the name. He, by contrast, had collected several of the very best, so who were you to judge and criticize? As time went on though he began to take your behavior more personally tough. His comfort was the best thing he had to offer, but you refused it. 

"It has nothing to do with you, or us," Yoongi reasoned.

"But can't she see we aren't like other people? We've been nothing but kind to her since she got here!" Hoseok pouted.  

Yoongi smiled regretfully. "Babe, she didn't ask to come here or for our kindness. And while I hope she's grateful and more importantly, feels safe, from everything I know about her, I'd be surprised if she did trust us. Just because we're good people doesn't mean she has a reason to trust us if she's never met good people before." 

Hoseok pouted harder. 

By dinner time he thought he was going to lose his mind. When his pack came home from a hard day of work, Hobi went into full omega mode, making sure that everyone had everything they needed to rest and relax. And you were throwing a major wrench in his plans. Maybe you weren't his pup but you were a pup, and he could not stop worrying about you no matter how hard he tried. Now matter how ungrateful and impolite you were, you still needed to be taken care of and you clearly were not going to do it yourself. 

All the alphas felt on edge too, as Hoseok banged utensils on pans anxiously while he cooked, not in the gentle manner he usually had. Yoongi helped to chop fruit, doing so more carefully than usual as he kept his senses alert to the omega tje easy he had all day. Namjoon set the table, putting extra focus into not breaking anything in case that might set his mate off. Jin hovered just as anxiously as he flipped pancakes beside Hoseok. They often had dinner for breakfast on Monday nights as a treat for having made it through a hard day. 

"Do you want me to take care of those eggs?" Jungkook asked cautiously as Hobi's split attention led them to burn. 

"Yes," he replied, shoving the spatula against Tae's chest as he pushed past him toward your door.

"Love, I thought you were giving her space," Jin called over his shoulder. 

"To hell with her space! This is my house, and I need to know what's going on inside of it!" Hoseok marched to your room, Namjoon following close behind after a look from Jin. 

He knocked firmly on the door, but even the four quick beats sounded anxious as they reverberated through the house. No sound came from the other side of the door. Maybe you were sleeping. If that was the case then there would be no harm in Hoseok seeing you for himself. He gripped the nob, half expecting to find it locked, but it wasn't. Cracking the door open just enough to get a view of the bed, he found you were missing. Panic raced through him at the thought that you might have left, so he pushed the door open. And there you were, halfway to the bathroom, sprawled facedown on the floor.

Yoongi set the knife down with a dangerous clatter at the sound of Hoseok shouting his name. His heavy footsteps were followed by those of the other alphas toward your room. He pushed past Namjoon, who took up most of the doorway, in order to crouch beside you and Hoseok. 

"What happened?"

Hoseok felt dizzy as he looked around the room. "I don't know! She was laying here when I came in. She hasn't eaten any of the food I brought or drank any water." Yoongi's hands touched lightly over your body, checking for any obvious injury. "Is she-?"

"No, sweetheart," Yoongi assured him. "Look, see her back rising and falling. She's breathing. She might have passed out from dehydration."

"I'll go get her some water," Taehyung offered. 

"There's plenty of water here. Just-" he was going to tell the crowding alphas to go back to the kitchen and give them some space but he was cut off by the smoke alarm. Luckily that was enough to get their feet moving. Nothing motivated them quite like an imminent threat to their home. 

"What can I do?" Hoseok asked as Yoongi gently rolled you over. 

Yoongi shook his head. "I'm going to try to get her awake first. You go keep them settled." Hoseok hesitated, but Yoongi made eye contact and gave him a reassuring smile. "She's going to be okay. But the three of them might not be without you." The omega nodded and stood to do as he was told. "And set another place at the table," he added. 

Hoseok stopped in his tracks to question him, but the alpha was in full medic mode, checking your pulse with a concentrated look, so he left. 

Yoongi spoke your name loudly and firmly to keep any panic from his voice as she shook your shoulders. He was only five percent panicking, or so he told himself. He'd seen people in this state hundreds of times before and it was almost never life threatening. You had neglected eating and drinking for too long, but that was easy to remedy. He just needed you to wake up. He spoke your name again, and this time he saw your features morph into a grimace, which was better than no response at all. "C'mon, Y/N. You're alright," he assured himself as he moved closer to you. Gently he took hold of your ankles and lifted them to his shoulders in an attempt to get the blood flowing back to your head. Seconds ticked by as he rubbed your soft calves, waiting for you to open your eyes. When your eyelids finally fluttered open, he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. 

"There you are, princess," he sighed. 

When your eyes had fully adjusted, he could see that your pupils were still dilated, and you weren't completely lucid. You began to squirm away from him, but your tired body made very little progress. 

"Take it easy. You passed out. I'm just here to make sure you're alright. Do you know what happened?"

Yoongi reluctantly let your legs slip from his hands as you carefully extricated your legs from his shoulders. You struggled to lift yourself up to your elbows, but he was there with sure hands gripping you around your rib cage. He maneuvered you to the side so you could lean against the bed, and then he unscrewed the top of a bottle of water from the bedside table before handing it to you. 

"Just sip it," he instructed as you took the bottle weakly, needing two hands to hold it steady. "Do you know why you passed out?" You shook your head just barely.

Yoongi's face took on a stern expression that matched his tone when he spoke again. "You haven't eaten or drinken anything for the last day. Do you realize that?"

You shrugged. Yoongi shook his head. "That's why little pups like you need looking after. If you can't take care of yourself, alpha will have to do it for you." You visibly flinched at his words, and Yoongi sighed. Of course he knew he wasn't your alpha. And maybe your past alphas hadn't given you a good impression. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try his hardest. "Look, princess. You can choose not to nest, to stop your heat, or not to take a knot. No one here is going to force you. But you do have to eat and drink. No dead pups in this house. Even if an IV is the one thing I will force on you."

You took in a sharp breath and exhaled in a huff, but at least you didn't look like you were going to put up a fight. A trickle of water slipped over your cracked lips and down your chin. Yoongi swiped it away with the pad of his thumb and felt another pang when you flinched, but he didn't pull away. Rather gently, so gently, touching his fingers to your chin, he made you face him. Being this close to you, where he could look into your eyes and you looked back at him, a thought locked into place that he had been dodging since the boys had brought you home. It was a feeling he hadn't had since he met Jimin, or before Jimin, either. It was a knowledge that you were his, and he would do anything to protect you. The hard part would be not frightening you when you were skittish as a bunny rabbit. 

"Y/N, I will never hurt you. And I know you may have heard that before. And I know you may have been lied to. I know that you have no reason to trust me or anyone else. But time is the only way to earn trust. For now, just listen to me, and I will take care of you. For the next hour all you need to do is eat dinner with us. Can you trust me that long?" 

You didn't respond, but merely lowered your gaze from his and handed him the water bottle. Based on what he had witnessed and heard from the others, this was a good sign. If you didn't want something you were more than capable of voicing your disagreement. Silence was rather an acquiescence, or at least as close as he could hope to get. While he had the chance he decided to press his luck. Your eyes grew big when he took a step closer to you. He placed one arm under yours, reaching around your back while the other went under your legs. You let out a whiny protest, kicking your feet. 

"Oh, I'd love to let you walk to the table on your own, princess, but you've let yourself get so weak that I don't believe you would make it. So just be a good pup for me."

Try as you might to hide, Yoongi didn't miss the rush of blood to your cheeks as you buried your face in his neck. Nor did he miss the small sniff you took of him. His steps halted for a moment, and he adjusted his hold on you, bringing you closer. 

"Go on, pup. It might make you feel a little better," he whispered. Again, you didn't respond except to tighten your arms around his shoulders and bury yourself deeper. 

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#lone wolf #bts a/b/o #bts omegaverse au #bts fic #bts angst #bts au #bts x reader #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #bts hoseok #bts yoongi #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts namjoon #bts jungkook #bts jin #bts fanfic #bts poly ot7

[theemporium]

can you write something where trevor is very clingy and cuddly with reader??

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Injuries were one of the many accessories that came with the package of being a hockey player.

And Trevor Zegras had his fair share of injuries.

Some were worse than others. Some were a miracle that they didn’t end up worse. Some almost took him away from the thing he loved the most in life. Some were now funny memories he laughed back on.

And some were just the usual rough-ups you’d get, even during a morning skate.

It hasn’t been a purposeful attack. More a playful fight for the puck gone wrong, and Trevor found himself hitting the boards a little rougher than anyone would’ve liked. He was cleared by medical and he would be absolutely fine by the next game. In fact, all they said was to put some ice on it for the rest of the day and to see how he felt the next day.

But Trevor wasn’t a good man. Not in the slightest. Because he knew you worried for him. He knew you worked yourself up about his injuries, that you took them far more seriously than he did. He knew that you just wanted to reassure yourself that he was okay.

And after barely seeing you because of your own work, Trevor missed having you all to himself. So maybe—just maybe—he played up his injury when he got home, knowing full well he would get exactly what he craved.

“Trev?”

“Hm?”

“Babe, you need to get up.”

However, he only let out a vague noise of disagreement as he nuzzled his face further into the crook of your neck.

“Trevor, baby, this position probably isn’t good for your shoulder,” you tried again, gently running your hands through his hair as he let out a low hum.

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll ice it later.”

Your hands paused. “I should get you ice now. Maybe some paracetamol—”

“No,” Trevor whined, a little high-pitched as his arms around your torso tightened. “This is what I need to feel better. Let’s just stay here.”

You lightly tugged on his hair until he finally lifted his head, his chin propped on your chest as he stared at you with wide and innocent eyes. If you didn’t know him like the back of your hand, maybe you would’ve believed the doe eyes.

“Your shoulder doesn’t even hurt that much, does it?” You deadpanned.

“I mean,” he started, his cheeks flushing a little. “It does. Just…not as much.”

“Trevor—”

“No, don’t get up,” Trevor pleaded, and it was hard to resist the big puppy eyes staring at you. “Please. Just…I’ve barely seen you all week. Let’s just have an us day, please?”

Your face softened.

“I just wanna be close to you,” Trevor murmured as he laid his head back down, his cheek pressed against your chest where he could hear your heart racing. “And not because we both went to bed at the same time, but because we wanna.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “But you’re still icing your shoulder.”

Trevor grinned. “Of course, baby, I’ll always listen to my favourite nurse.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am not buying a sexy nurse costume.”

“Boo.”

.

#trevor zegras #nhl #anahiem ducks #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[actiniumwrites]

(scenario, if it’s alright ?) diluc and kaeya with an s/o singing them to sleep :’0 or just softly singing to them for comfort/in general (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) i’ve been listening to rises the moon by liana flores n i can’t help but imagine how soothing n healing it must be for their s/o to sing to them that way hhngghfnsdjnxjsn . . . their chest would swell in affection and look at them with hearts in their eyes while s/o sweetly holds them in their arms n stroke their hair tenderly . . . (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)♡

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

synopsis: in which you sing your restless lover to sleep

characters: kaeya, diluc x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, nightmares, vague mentioning of diluc’s past, i accidentally made diluc’s kinda angsty (sorry)

notes: anon, this is so cute!! i used to be obsessed with rises the moon for such a long time, coincidentally i would also use it to fall asleep sometimes. thank you for the request!

Kaeya:

It was close to two in the morning when you awoke from your sleep suddenly. The room around you was cold and silent, haunted by the evening shadows that enveloped everything around it aside from the gentle candlelight that flickered from the other side of the room.

You laid back down for a few moments, falling aimlessly against the warm sheets below you. Your eyes focused on the white ceiling above you as they shifted between squinting and widening to adjust from just previously being asleep. A quiet sigh fell from your lips as you relaxed for a moment. Instinctively, your hand inched toward the other side of the bed where your boyfriend normally slept. When all you could feel was the cold sheets where he should have been laying, your eyes snapped back open.

Somehow, you hadn’t even noticed his presence had not existed within your bed, but was instead sat in a chair at the desk tirelessly scribbling away at a piece of paper. Originally, you had just assumed the flicker of the candle was due to carelessness on your part. That, perhaps, you had just forgotten to put it out before allowing yourself to fall into a warm slumber for the night. But alas, that was not the case.

Sitting upright, you hung your feet over the bed. You shivered at the touch of the freezing wooden floors when you arose from your spot. Wrapping your hands around your waist in a desperate attempt to keep warm, you quietly walked toward the desk where he was sitting.

You stopped right before him, tenderly placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to peer at what he had been writing. He hardly gave a reaction, but didn’t stop you from gently massaging his shoulders.

“Kaeya,” you softly murmured, not wanting to disturb the silence of the night. His hand rushed to finish one final sentence before he placed the pen against the desk where it should have been the entire time.

“I’m done. I swear,” he assured you, turning around as he stood up. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he pulled you closer to him. Resting your head against his shoulder, you begun to sway back and forth with him.

After a few more wordless seconds together, you pulled back from him but kept his hands in yours, “Come to bed…please.”

Sleep seemed to have been evading Kaeya for the past two weeks. You were well aware it was because of his upcoming expedition and all the hard work and preparation that came alongside it, but that didn’t mean you could excuse the way he was neglecting his health.

He nodded silently, giving into you just as he always did.

When you got into bed, you tucked the covers over the both of you. Scooting closer to him, you propped your arm up a bit so you could lean over him. Brushing his hair softly with your fingers, you whispered to him, “Are you having a hard time sleeping again?”

Kaeya mumbled something softly as he nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch, “Sing to me? Please?”

A tender smile pulled at your lips and a hushed laugh escaped you, “Of course.”

And so, you quietly began to sing him his favorite song. Your voice was quiet and soft, and it was more beautiful than anything he had ever heard in his entire life. It didn’t overtake the rustling of the trees outside the window or the calm crackling of the wick candle you had decided to let burn a little while longer. It had only taken a minute or two before Kaeya had entered a peaceful sleep. Thanks to you, it was the first one he had gotten in weeks.

And when his breath evened and his eyes were firmly shut, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, “Sleep well, love.”

Diluc:

It was the middle of the night when you awoke suddenly, a feeling as though something was wrong shook within your chest. The soft pitter patter of rain made its way to your ears as you glanced at the window next to your side of the bed, thunder following suit in big booms. You almost shook the feeling off all together had it not been for the bright flash of lightning revealing your boyfriend sitting upright in bed, head within his hands.

The room had been so dark, and with the thunder and rain occupying what normally was filled with silence, you hadn’t even noticed him.

“Diluc?” you called out to him hesitantly, not used to him being up at such hours of the night. Not unless he was off doing work as the Dark Knight. When your hand made contact with his shoulder that was left bare by the white tank top he had worn to bed, he jolted softly away from your touch. You pulled your hand away instantly, like you had just been burned.

There was a moment where anxiousness began to boil in your stomach, whispering that you had done something to hurt him. Your eyes darted across his form as they began to adjust to the darkness of the room, starting to give into those worries. Maybe you had said something wrong at dinner? Or maybe he finally had gotten sick of you like you always worried he would?

A gentle sob stole you right from out of your mind before you began spiraling yourself, placing your attention back on him. It was a small action, but one that made you realize just how absurd those possibilities were. Diluc loved you, and had reassured you countless times there was nothing you could do to change that. You felt your heart ache when another sob left his mouth. Instantly, you moved closer to him, placing your hand against his back to rub gentle circles against it. “I’m here, okay? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” you whispered softly, careful to not make things worse, especially when you were unaware of what was going on with him.

Finally, his head raised from his hands and his big ruby eyes met yours, a pool of tears filled within them. His mouth opens and shuts a few times before he just shook his head and fell into your open arms, head against your shoulder and arms slung lazily around your waist. His sobs were barely audible over the rain as he mumbled things about his father, Kaeya, and all the trauma he had built up over the years against your chest. Finally things clicked.

You stared down at him with knowing eyes, a pitiful but comforting look within them. It wasn’t often that nights like those would occur, but they did happen nonetheless. It had been so long since the last one that you forgot about them all together.

He’d told you about them when you first began dating, but it was not a subject Diluc often enjoyed conversing about. Honoring his wishes, you opted to never bring it up unless he did first. His mind would plague itself with nightmares filled with horrid details from the darkest depths of his memories. So dark that he’d wake up in a cold sweat, eyes welled with hot tears, and unable to control his spiral of emotions. The only thing that could reassure him on those nights was you. You were the only thing keeping him from crumbling in on himself from how much he had held in his pain over the years.

Keeping him within your arms, you gently laid backwards until you were leaned up against the frame of the bed you both shared. Diluc shut his eyes tightly, a frown grew deep across his features. An expression you hated to see painted on his face, too beautiful to be tortured by such treacherous emotions.

“Please,” he mumbled out so quietly you almost missed it, “sing to me.”

You nodded with a gentle hum, running your fingers through his hair as you shut your own eyes. A soft melody left your mouth, a song that was well known across Mondstadt that you knew he loved. You didn’t sing loudly at all, but somehow it was enough for Diluc to drown out the sound of the rain and the painful memories flowing within his mind.

Eventually, his arms grew limp around your waist and his breath evened out. Peacefulness took hold of the features that the frown once desperately clung to. The tune that echoes from your mouth sung him carefully to sleep.

You slumped down into the bed next to him, eyes blinking a few times before they shut for the night. And before you could fall asleep, you hugged him tighter, reassuring him of your presence, even in his sleep. Nothing could ever hurt him, not for as long as you were there to protect him.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #kaeya #diluc #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n

[blushweddinggowns]

Chrissy woke up in Robin’s arms a few hours later, rested but disoriented. There was an odd sound she couldn’t place, a jingle that her morning-sleepiness wouldn’t let her focus on. 

The music was still playing in the background, a constant loop. She looked around, relieved that everyone was still there. Nancy was curled onto her side with Max laid out at the very end of the bed. Steve and Eddie were laying on top of each other on the couch, while Dustin snored in the chair. 

She wasn’t sure what woke her up, not until she realized that tinkling was the sound of keys in the door, followed by it slamming open.

“I hate that damn door,” She heard a gruff voice say under his breath. 

Chrissy popped her head up, her eyes widening when Eddie’s uncle stepped inside. He stopped, a loud sigh escaping as he looked around the room. His eyes zeroed right onto Eddie and Steve on the couch, Eddie still peacefully asleep on Steve’s chest. 

He didn’t even look surprised. Just vaguely annoyed. 

Chrissy watched as he walked over, nudging them both until they started grumbling. Steve came to first, rubbing his eyes before looking up at Wayne with a very guilty look on his face. 

He shook Eddie with him, waking him just in time to hear it when Wayne sighed, “Boys, why are all of these people in our house?”

They looked at each other, another silent conversation raging on until Steve nodded. 

Eddie rolled off of him, landing on his feet as he looked at Wayne, “We have something to tell you. And… you’re probably going to want to sit down for it.”

The rest of the group was starting to wake now, everyone coming to consciousness from the noise. But Wayne listened. He sat on the couch, obviously confused as Steve shook Nancy awake. He whispered a few words into her ear, her eyes going from sleepy to focused in record time. 

She nodded, “You’re right. He deserves to know.”

“Will someone please explain what the hell you’re talking about?” Wayne finally snapped, “I’m getting off a ten-hour shift here.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie sighed as he sat next to him, “But you’re gonna want to hear this. Nancy, go.”

And go she went, explaining the same tale that Chrissy got, but with none of the circumstances to force her to believe it. 

By the end of it, Wayne had his head in his hands, groaning as everyone chimed in about their corroborating stories. 

He was struggling to believe it, they could all tell. Chrissy couldn’t blame him. She was still struggling, despite the fact that her life was on the line.

He finally looked up, his eyes zeroing in on Steve and Eddie. 

“So you’re saying, that day you two came home beaten and bloodied wasn’t a fight? You almost died fighting monsters. That’s what you’re telling me?”

“I-It technically was a fight-” Steve tried.

“Have you or have you not, been risking your lives for the past four years dealing with supernatural shit? Yes or no, Steven?” Wayne interrupted. 

It was enough to snap Steve’s mouth shut. Chrissy was pretty sure she’d never seen him look chastised before, but here he was. Steve nodded, nearly hiding behind Eddie as Wayne groaned. 

“W-We had to sign NDAs!” Eddie tried, “We would have told you but we didn’t think-”

“What? You thought it would be better for me to find out my kids died through some shady government agency? Do you even know how insane all of the shit you just said was! I- how do you expect me to react?!”

It worked just as well with Eddie as it did with Steve. He snapped his mouth back closed, thoroughly reprimanded.

“We’re sorry,” Steve mumbled out, oddly child-like. Almost as though he was getting scolded by his father instead of his friend’s uncle.

“Steve, I don’t want to hear it,” Wayne said, “Because neither of you are going to stop, are you? Not when that girl’s life is on the line.”

They both shook their heads and it was enough to have Wayne groaning again. 

 “I don’t want to believe you,” Wayne finally said, “I haven’t heard anything like this since I was a kid. Boys, this is just too damn much!”

“Wait, what?” Nancy asked, her soft voice ignored as Eddie jumped in. 

“But it’s true! I swear it is! Think of all the weird shit that happens here, Wayne. A kid came back from the dead. You know this town is messed up!”

Steve was still going for a more meek approach, “Are you really that mad?”

“You’re damn right I’m mad!” Wayne snapped again, “The two of you have been risking your lives for - I don’t even know! Why would you-”

“No, wait,” Nancy interrupted, firm enough to get all eyes back on her, “What did you say before? The thing about when you were a kid?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Wayne said with a wave of the hand, “Just old ghost stories.”

“But what ghost stories?” 

Wayne shrugged, “Just… something crazy. It doesn’t matter.”

“But what if it does?” Nancy pressed, “What happened to Will is probably known as a ghost story around here now, and it was at the center of everything. We have no reason to think whatever this is started with him. What if it started before?”

“She’s right,” Dustin chimed in, “What happened when you were a kid?”

Wayne sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he spoke, “There was a man who lived on the other side of town, in that abandoned house with the stained glass. Killed his whole family. Snapped all their limbs apart like some kind of monster. They never even explained how he managed it, let alone what he did to his son. They never found his body. But he was insane not magic. He sewed his own eyes shut after, never admitting to what he did. Victor Creel doesn’t have anything to do with my kids being stupid-”

“That was his name?” Nancy interrupted, “Victor Creel? What happened to him?”

“I think he’s still at the asylum,” Wayne said, “He got a plea deal, because he was off his damn rocker. Haven’t heard anything about him since.”

 Nancy turned to Chrissy, her brow raised, “Does the stained glass ring any bells?”

Chrissy blinked at her, “I-maybe?”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #buckingham fic #the universe trapped in your skin #its all i got now #no more excuses and siren doesnt count cause she weird #I'm going to finish this bitch or die trying #Season 4 is such a mess guys honestly that is the issue #but things have been worked out since #This bitch is a saga #stranger things rewrite #i love wayne #wayne munson

[cupids-scream-queen]

A Little Murderess °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀*

❀ female!murderer!reader x poly!ghostface ❀

Part 9// 2k words

-> Part 8

Warnings: none!

A/N: Second to last chapter; expect chapter 10 to be hella fucking long. This one sets ch10 up, which is why it's so short. Edit: I lied they're both short.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Summary: You've just moved to a new town after the death of your little brother and stepfather with your mother. You're not ashamed of what you do to cope with the deaths; especially when you make two new friends who you might have more in common with than you thought...

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You woke up the next morning, your head buzzing with the high from the kills. You realized you weren’t in your bedroom, and you panicked for a second, before remembering that you hadn’t gone home the night before. You pondered for a minute the consequences if your mother found out about your late-nigth shenanigans, but remembered that you did not give a flying fuck about your mother, and laid back into the comfortable bed.

You weren’t alone. Billy was awake, your body pressed up against his. He was warm, and enveloping you in the most delightful way. Stu was not in the bed—the clunking noise from downstairs suggesting he was attempting to make food. You realized it was Friday and shot up.

“Come back,” Billy murmured, his arms trying to pull you down. “You’re warm.”

“It’s Friday, Billy, we’ve got school—we don’t have a fucking alibi or anything, God we’re so stupid—what are we going to do? I can’t get charged for murder—” He pressed his fingers to your lips, sitting up with you. His arms wrapped around you.

“We won’t get caught. We left no evidence, and our alibi is that we were here the entire night, having a movie night and a few too many drinks. That’s all,” He tried calming you down, but you were having None Of It. You had a gnawing feeling in your stomach that something was seriously wrong, and you weren’t quite sure what. Whatever it was, you knew in your heart something was going to happen, and whatever it was, it was not going to be positive.

“I still feel like something’s wrong,” You said.

“Killer’s remorse, you just ain’t psycho enough,” Billy shrugged, “Stu’s got it sometimes.”

“Really?”

“No,” He started laughing, and he realized you were upset. “Calm down, it’s fine. We’ll eat breakfast and then we can go to school if you really want to. I can imagine they’ve found the bodies by now.”

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious if we go?”

“It’s more suspicious if we show up late, trust me. Now, let’s see what the hell Stu made, I can promise you it won’t be edible,” Billy got out of bed first and finished dressing himself, and went downstairs. You were alone, and your thoughts were racing. You knew something wasn’t right, and you couldn’t quite place it. Why was Tatum alone—why was Sidney alone? Both of them, alone, when a killer was known—it was too perfect. It felt like a set-up. But if it was, wouldn’t they have stopped you before you killed either of them?

“Get your ass here! Stu didn’t kill it!”

“Coming!” Throwing on one of Stu’s shirts, you went downstairs, smelling the vaguely burned eggs that Stu made. You grinned at his attempt to feed the two of you.

“We should do something Saturday night,” Stu said, serving you a plate of eggs and some depressed bacon. “Something sinister.”

“Is there anything we do that isn’t sinister?” You rolled your eyes, eating a bite of egg. It wasn’t bad, surprisingly. A touch crispy, but that was it.

“We watch movies and fuck,” Stu quipped, and you narrowed your eyes at him. He knew that wasn’t what you meant, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I want to go after Dewey and Sidney’s bitchass father,” Billy’s voice was stern, and you and Stu realized that those were the victims—to go against Billy was treason for both of you, and neither of you wanted that.

“Where is her father?” You asked, and both boys grinned at you.

“I suggest you eat your food before we show you that,” Stu said, pointing at your eggs with a fork. “And making sure you won’t gag.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say he’s very nearby,” Stu giggled, shoving more eggs in his mouth. Billy followed suit, and you just did as you were told. You weren’t entirely sure what they were getting at, but the pit in your stomach was worse, and you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was dastardly wrong.

You finished your food, picking your plate and putting it in the sink. Stu asked if the three of you could go and pick up some supplies from the store, and you agreed, on the condition that they don’t take your car. Billy agreed.

The drive to the store was fun. Plotting the Saturday Night Massacre. Billy wondered if the three of you could build a bomb and place it in the school to explode on Monday. You told him that was a rip-off of Heather’s.

The Saturday Night Massacre was going to be a string of murders, all separate from each other. The list of victims was vast, including Dewey, Gale Weathers (Stu thought she would make a killer fuck, but Billy thought she was annoying), Mr. Prescott, Ms. Tate, Sheriff Burke, and a few students that Stu had “personal scores to settle with” (the majority of which were other competing class clowns). In all, you realized your number of victims were ridiculous, especially for a singular night. But, Billy assured you, it was fine—the three of you would operate at the same time, each person getting at least two kills on their own. You assured them that you could handle Gale and Ms. Tate. Stu and Billy would divide the others up.

You were looking forward to the Massacre—you wanted the feeling of something awful to go away, and nothing cleared your head like a good kill. You weren’t sure that Billy and Stu got the same feeling from killing that you did—you think they thought of it as a game, which was probably right; you couldn’t remember when they didn’t refer to their phone calls as a little game.

Upon arriving at the store, Stu and Billy got out, and you got yourself out of the backseat. They went straight for the shovel aisle, getting quite a few of them. You got a few pots of flowers, trees, and generally other plants—it looked a hell of a lot less suspicious. And it wasn’t like you weren’t going to plant the plants, you definitely were, it was just this happened to be a driving factor in the timing of you getting the plants.

Your plans, specifically, were to organize and then commit the murders of Gale, a bitch, and Ms. Tate, a sweet old lady who did nothing wrong specifically to you, but assigned Stu some ridiculously long essay once and he held a grudge on her for that. You realized that, out of the three of you, you had no known motives to kill any of the people that were on your list for tonight, doubling down the chances of the three of you not getting caught. The feeling in your stomach was slipping away, and quickly. The checkout was quick, and you barely had time to notice your surroundings change when you were back in the car, with several plants and shovels surrounding you.

You weren’t speaking, your mind racing with questions and statements that you knew were just going to either get you caught or killed—and both of those prospects were terrifying to you. Before you could even process it, you, Billy, and Stu were sitting at the kitchen table, a notebook in Billy’s hand and pencils scattered everywhere.

“You’ll need to find the addresses for these folks, I know where Neil is and we all know the addresses of…” You weren’t listening, your head filled with buzzing as you felt something beating throughout the house, rhythmically, like a heart. You couldn’t tell if Stu or Billy heard it alongside you, but you were desperate to make the noise stop.

You got up abruptly, your legs moving on their own as you heard the beating continue to happen, the pace matching your own. Yet, it wasn’t your heartbeat that you were hearing—it was someone else’s. You were sure of it. Quizzically, you looked at the confused and concerned faces of Billy and Stu.

“Can you hear that?” You asked, gesturing to the air in front of you. “The heart. I hear it.”

“Is it your own heartbeat, perhaps?” Billy lifted an eyebrow, not amused by your antics. But, they weren’t antics, you clearly heard the beating of a heart. You weren’t crazy, you were certain of that. You pinched yourself on the thigh, flinching when it hurt. You weren’t dreaming. This was real, and it was happening, whether or not your accomplices believed you, you didn’t care. You had to get rid of the heartbeat. You walked along the house, the boys following you as you went from room to room, your butterfly knife in your pocket, as you tried to pick out where the heartbeat was coming from. It was farther away, but then, as you walked towards the kitchen, it got louder, and louder, and louder. Billy and Stu were on your heels, curiously following you as you went through the Macher house.

“Are you good there?” Stu asked, and you emitted no response. You shook your head, motioning again to the invisible sounds of a heartbeat, your mind racing with questions. None of them were going to be answered. With a heavy sigh, you decided to give up on your quest for the sound of the heartbeat. You looked at the boys, and grinned—trying to play it off.

“I thought I heard something there—sorry,” You said, and Billy looked at you as if you weren’t telling him everything, and you weren’t, but you were going to keep that from him. He didn’t need to know.

After a few drinks, you calmed down. The sound of the heartbeat was still there, but you weren’t as concerned with it than when you were sober. Billy and Stu were kissing on the sofa next to you, Billy’s hand down your panties and Stu’s hand on your tits. You weren’t uncomfortable, but you weren’t comfortable—your mind was on something else, and it wasn’t quite what the two were doing. Noticing your dissatisfaction, both boys stopped, and looked at you quizzically.

“I still hear the heart,” You quietly whispered, and the two of them glanced at each other, not particularly understanding. “The heartbeat. I still hear it.”

“Is it because you’re drunk?” Stu suggested, pointing at the beers on the table. “Sometimes Tate used to hear strange things when she was drunk.”

“That’s because we used to make the noises dumbass,” Billy rolled his eyes, his concern on you, not whatever the fuck Stu had to say. “Are you sure you hear it?”

“Yes. It gets louder when I go near the door,” You pointed to the door that led to the basement, and it was true; you heard a heartbeat the closer you got to it. The faces of both boys went white, and they immediately started to sober up.

“Are you positive? You’re not fucking with us?” Stu asked, his eyes pointed at you, inspecting every inch of your body. You felt so cold under his touch, exposed, and like a child—though everything the three of you have done was the farthest thing from child’s play.

“No.”

“Shit, we have—” Billy elbowed Stu in the ribs before Stu said anything else, but you didn’t care.

“Do you want to go home? Maybe you should go home and rest,” Billy was persuasive, and you agreed, and he drove you home, mentioning that you should probably take it easy before the Saturday Night Massacre. You agreed.

Enjoy my writing? Please like, reblog, or follow me! The support is super encouraging; plus i upload new content nearly daily💕

Tagged List-

@citrusbunnies @itsyoboysparkel @winkev1 @ghostbandghostcodghostface @dij-ology @l4vr0v@ilovefamousmen11 @cancelledkaley@4rtiee @jealousysbaby @prettysblisss @willow-sages

#ghostface #ghostface x y/n #billy loomis #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream #stu matcher x reader #slasher fucker #stu matcher x you #slashers x reader

[callsign-fox]

The Set Up - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Written with @fanficgirl429​ <3

Prompt: Phoenix sets you up on a blind date with the one person you don’t want to be set up with. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / Mentions of sex / Fingering 

Thank you @imjess-themess, @a-reader-and-a-writer and @wildbornsiren for reading this over!

-------------------------------------------------------

Y/N checked over her appearance in the rearview mirror as her best friend Natasha’s voice echoed through her car's speaker. 

“I know you are probably freaking out right now, but you just need to be your usual, charming self tonight. You haven’t been on a date in months, maybe you’ll even get laid!” 

“Who exactly did you set me up with that you think I’m going to get them to bed?” Y/N said, surprised at her friend’s confidence.

Natasha laughed, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Y/N shook her head as she stepped out of her car and walked toward the entrance of the Deep End Bar & Grill. She straightened out her dress and put her phone to her ear after switching off Bluetooth. “Nat, I’m walking in now. How exactly is this guy going to know who I am if you haven't told us anything about each other?” 

“I told him you would be sitting at the bar and wearing a red dress.” 

“Alright, I’ll call you after and let you know how it went. Wish me luck!” 

Natasha wished her friend luck before hanging up the phone. Y/N glanced around the dimly lit restaurant, looking for a stranger that fit the vague description Nat had given her. When she didn’t notice anyone, she made her way toward the bar to order a drink. 

As she sipped her drink, she continued to casually glance around the bar, waiting for her mystery date to show up. A few people could have fit the description, but when they went and joined other parties she soon realized they weren’t the ones. Shortly after that, a familiar figure walked into the bar. He reached up and pulled his aviator sunglasses from his face and glanced around, his eyes landing on Y/N. He did a double take as he took in her appearance. It was then that they both realized what exactly Nat had done. 

Bradley Bradshaw walked around the bar to where Y/N was seated and stared at her, his expression blank.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Y/N mumbled, warranting an eye roll from Bradley. 

He shook his head and waved the bartender over. “Shot of whiskey, please.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and finished off her rum and coke. “And I’ll take another.”

Bradley pulled the bar stool out beside Y/N and sat down. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and placed his credit card on the counter. “Get her a shot of whiskey too.” 

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Bradshaw?” Y/N teased, turning to face him. 

“The only way we are going to survive this ‘date’ is if we're both drunk, so we might as well start off strong.”

When the bartender placed their shots in front of them, Y/N grabbed hers off the counter and threw it back. The bitter taste made her gag but she did her best not to show Bradley. 

“Nat has to be playing a joke on us,” Y/N said. “You didn’t tell her about…that night, did you?” 

Bradley’s eyes went wide. “No one knows about that night except for me and you,” he whispered, glancing around to see if anyone overheard their conversation. 

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “If anyone should be ashamed, it should be me, not you.” 

He ignored her and waved at the bartender indicating he was ready for another shot. 

“Why would she set us up? She knows that I can’t stand you,” Y/N commented. 

Bradley laughed, “Because it’s Phoenix.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “What do you say we set our differences aside and just try to have a good time?” 

“Keep buying me alcohol and you have a deal.”

A few drinks later and Y/N was laughing at Bradley’s bad jokes as she took another shot of whiskey. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Y/N asked him, and he nodded. “What did you tell all the guys in our class about me?”

Bradley laughed. “How do you know I said something?” 

“Hangman mentioned that you told him and the other guys not to go near me, but he wouldn't tell me why.” 

He leaned into her. “I may or may not have told them you were fucking Admiral Cole.” 

My eyes widened and his head snapped back with laughter. “Admiral Cole is seventy years old, Bradley! Why the hell did you tell them that? No wonder I couldn’t get any of them to come home with me.” 

“For starters, I thought you were a cocky little shit and you annoyed the hell out of me.” Y/N shoved him. “I also wanted to fuck you so I made sure nobody else tried to.” 

Y/N was taken aback by his bluntness. “You wanted to fuck me?” she asked, taking another sip of her drink. 

“Yea,” he answered, his eyes locking with hers. “And I did…a few times in one night actually.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Bradley lightly grazed her thigh with his hand before pulling it away and smiling. “You act as if you didn’t want me too.” 

“I didn’t.” She leaned into him, placing her hand on his thigh. “But tell me…when you did fuck me, was it exactly how you thought it would be?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N asked. 

“It was better.”

Bradley placed his hand on hers and moved it further up his thigh until the palm of her hand was pressed against his erection. Her core grew warm as she remembered the feeling of him inside her.

Neither of them broke eye contact, sitting there quietly staring at one another until Bradley finally spoke up. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

Y/N didn't hesitate. “Yes.” 

He placed some cash down on the bar and grabbed her hand, practically pulling her out of the bar stool. The two of them walked quickly out of the bar, Bradley’s hand running over the soft fabric of her dress. 

Bradley’s truck was at the back of the parking lot, practically hidden from sight. Once they reached his truck he swiftly spun her around and pressed her up against the door. 

“You have no idea all the things I'm going to do to you,” Bradley whispered, his lips brushing over her ear before making contact with her neck. His fingers ran up her leg before dipping underneath her dress and pushing her underwear to the side.    

Y/N smiled as his fingers brushed against her core. “What are you waiting for, nobody can see us.” 

His lips connected with hers, kissing her roughly, as his fingers moved along her core, rubbing against her sensitive spot. She let out a moan as she felt herself melt at his closeness. This was only the second time he had been intimate with her, but it was like he knew exactly how she liked to be touched. 

Bradley pressed his knee in between her legs and pushed them apart as he inserted two fingers. She let out a gasp as he began to move his fingers, his thumb rubbing against her clit. Her eyes closed as she let the sensation take over her body. Bradley continued the motion, moving his fingers faster each time.

“Does that feel good?” 

A moan escaped from Y/N’s lips as she felt her walls clenching around his fingers. She felt her whole body aching with pleasure from the feeling of them pumping in and out of her, the movement pushing her closer, and closer to the edge. 

Y/N nipped at Bradley’s lip which only encouraged him to go faster. All at once, she felt her high approach as he shoved a third finger inside her. He worked her through her orgasm, his thumb moving slowly over her clit. 

Bradley smiled down at her as he gently removed his broad fingers. “So, my place or yours?” 

“For the record, I still don’t like you,” Y/N whispered, pulling his fingers to her mouth and licking them clean.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like you either.”

Masterlist

#rooster #rooster imagines #rooster fanfictions #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw fanfictions #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfictions #top gun imagines #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick fanfictions #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader

[moorishflower]

but what if pirate/siren dreamling

(TW for gore and very brief cannibalism mention (is it truly cannibalism if it's your deep sea predator lover taking a friendly nibble of an organ you aren't using))

The problem with having a lover who has multiple arms, Hob muses, is that when one does something foolish, that means there are that many more limbs with which they can hit you. He thinks this as a tentacle pelts him on the top of the head, not hard enough to sting, but definitely enough to bring him to attention.

"Hold still," Dream says, quite casually, in Hob's opinion, considering the fact that he is currently two hands and one tentacle deep in Hob's entrails, and has been rooting around down there for some time, and shows no signs of stopping. Hob has, within the last ten minutes, taken to staring fixedly over Dream's shoulder at the map mounted on the wall of his cabin. Hic sunt monstra, it says, at the very edge of the ocean, and Hob feels a half-drunk laugh bubble up out of him. Christ, if only that mapmaker had known.

"You're lucky my spine's what got hit," he says, "else I'd be screaming and you'd have to knock me out," and Dream hums softly. His voice, even above the water, has a tonal quality that Hob always has trouble defining in any meaningful way. It's like the cry of gulls at twilight, just before they settle into the darkness; it's like the hum of whales moving below the surface of the sea, their huge backs breaking the surf in plumes of silver and grey; it's like the creak of the masts and the beat of the sails when the wind is high and the sky is so clear it feels as though the ship might leave the water entirely.

A siren, Hob had thought, when he'd first found the man washed up upon the strand. One of those beautiful creatures of the deep, what tempted Odysseus and drew men to their dooms upon the rocks.

He's rather certain no siren has ever been depicted with tentacles, though.

Blood slicks Dream's pale arms up to the elbow as he pushes aside loops and coils of Hob's intestines, glistening grey-pink and pulsing faintly in the lamplight. The blood will not stop -- it drenches the bed, despite the oilskin tarp they've laid down, and pours in steady rivulets down onto the planks of the deck. Lucky that the men he's picked to crew his ship all have strong stomachs, for he's sure that some of his blood is going to drip down into the mess, and he is already dreading having to explain himself come morning. It's common knowledge that Captain Robert Gadling cannot die -- he's favored by luck, they say, the Lady herself, he's made a deal with the devil, he's drunk from the pure blood of Christ and now death cannot touch him.

There's a kernel of truth in every rumor, he thinks, as Dream finally reaches where one of the bullets has lodged itself. He knows Dream has found it, because he hears the gentle hum become a clacking of teeth, a chitter of excitement.

"Have you got it, my love?" he asks, and thinks himself wildly magnanimous when he does not try to bite the slender night-blue tentacle that pats vaguely at his cheek.

"You are very complicated inside," Dream says. "More so than fish."

"I'd hope so. How many did that cunt actually fire, anyways?"

"I have found…" There's a distressing squelching noise, and then Dream's hands emerge, gore dripping from his fingers and wrists, but, triumphantly, bearing several blood-drenched bullets. "Three. Including the one. In your spine."

"I didn't even feel you pull it out," Hob says wonderingly. Dream casually drops the bullets to the deck, where they roll, and scatter in several directions, trailing blood according to the whims of the listing ship.

"You would not. Your spine, as you said. Was what got hit."

"Nothing some good rest won't fix. Can you, ah. Pile me back inside, darling?" He looks pointedly down at his belly, still a gaping wound from Dream's careful, knifelike talons.

Dream, ever helpful, but without much of a grasp on human anatomy, slops his intestines loosely back into place, and then sits for a while, the tentacles of his lower half writhing, snuffing along the blood-soaked floor like eager hounds. He tastes it through his skin, Hob thinks -- or something to that effect. He tastes it with his mouth, also, fastidiously cleaning the scarlet from his hands and forearms with a tongue as pink and soft as dawning, and if Hob hadn't spent the past half-hour steadily bleeding out, reviving, and then bleeding out again, he thinks he would find the sight almost unbearably arousing.

You're fucked in the head, he thinks to himself, though not without a certain amount of wry affection. 'Fucked in the head' is one way to describe the man who cheated Death at cards. He blesses every century that passes that she was a good sport about it.

"Am I to your satisfaction?" he asks, beginning to feel woozy, again, the lightheaded feeling of bloodloss so close to drunkenness that it seems an old and faithful friend. Dream pauses with his tongue still partly out, and Hob wishes he were able to move, that he could lean forward and take it into his mouth, and suck the taste of iron from it until all that's left beneath is the iodine tang of the sea.

"Always," Dream says, and lowers his arms, and slinks closer, his upper half as still and calm as a tidal pool, and everything below that a roil of constant movement. He shapes himself legs when he must walk among men, but here, in the relative privacy of Hob's cabin, he rarely bothers. Hob should find that less attractive than he does, perhaps. But he has already established that cheating Death has, in some ways, rendered him insane.

"Then can you please start stitching me up," he says sweetly, with just an edge of gritted teeth. "I'm about to go out again. Good time to practice your. Your." Hob feels his eyes cross. Can feel his heart stuttering.

"Your needlework," he manages to get out, just before his vision blacks, and the last thing he sees is Dream peering closely at him, concern in his eyes, the fractal flare of luminescence sparking across his cheeks in a mimicry of the night sky. Stars, Hob thinks. Death had told him he would sail the stars if he only wanted it for long enough, though she'd expressed her doubts that he would last that long. You'll be asking for me within the century, she'd said. No human is meant to live much longer than that. Your minds aren't wired for it.

Yet here he is. Three hundred years later, and no signs of stopping. Other than the blood loss, of course, but as he feels his heart give a final, thready thump he feels reassured in the knowledge that Dream has, in fact, been practicing his sewing, and has been getting fairly good at it when he helps to repair the sails, and he's probably not going to try and sneak a bite of any of Hob's organs, because he loves him, and you don't eat the ones you love. Probably.

(If he wakes up missing a small chunk of his liver, well. His spine is still broken, and everything below his breastbone is a fuzzing numbness, and it's not like the organ won't grow back, eventually. These are the things he tells Dream, anyways, when he comes to at last, and finds his belly stitched neatly closed, and his otherworldly lover rubbing his gore-sodden mouth against Hob's neck in fitful ecstasy.

"My love," Dream is murmuring, and Hob cannot help but pull him close, and let all the many arms and limbs wind around him, a sweet parody of drowning. "My love, my love, inside you taste of the sea.")

#dreamling #the sandman #fanfic #drabble #dream of the endless/hob gadling #dream/hob #tw gore #tw cannibalism

[mcyt-enthusiast]

MCYT incorrect quotes my beloved:

Tango: WHO ATE MY BREAD?!

Tango: I'M GOING TO K-

Zedaph: I did?

Tango: Kiss you and buy some more, you haven't been eating anything today Zedaph.

*walking away*

Zedaph:

Zedaph: He's gone Impulse.

Impulse, coming out the closet with bread stuffed in his mouth: Twankh uh!

Jimmy: I can do anything I put my mind to. I once figured out Joey's phone number just by choosing random numbers.

Lizzie: Joel likes to win. When he was 8, a little Club Scout friend of his bragged that they could sell the most cookies.

Lizzie: Damned if Joel didn't walk the neighborhood till he got blisters on his feet, and won by 10 boxes.

Lizzie: Best part is, Joel wasn't even a Club Scout.

BDubs: What's the straightest thing you've ever done?

Etho: *sighs*

Etho: I killed a man.

Doc: You either buckle down and do your work or you'll end up at McDonalds.

BDubs: We're going to McDonalds if I don't do my work?

Doc: NO-

Doc: So are you gonna explain how the hell you crashed my car?

Grian: Well we were driving and there was a deer in the road, so I said "Scar, deer!"

Doc: ...And what did Scar do?

Grian: ...He said "Yes, Honey?"

Scott: I don't want to fight you!

Jimmy: I wouldn't want you to fight me either!

Teacher: Your child was in a fight.

Scar: Oh no, that's terrible!

Grian: Did they win?

Shelby: So, are you two friends?

Joey: Yes.

Katherine: No.

Jimmy: I'm in love with you.

Scott: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Jimmy: I know.

Scott: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Oli: Can I offer you a nice stick in this trying time?

Shelby: Ooh, somebody has a crush

Jimmy: Pfft, I don't have a crush on Scott I just think he's cool, it's not like I stay up at night thinking about him.

*Later that night*

Jimmy, very much awake: Uh oh.

Jimmy: Where is Tango?

Etho: I'll do you one better, who is Tango??

Scott: Here's a better question, why is Tango?

Xisuma: Y'know, maybe things aren't so bad. I'm here. I got the nice ocean breeze. Just alone with my thoughts.

Grian: Hey, Xisuma.

Xisuma: GODDAMNIT!

Mumbo: Did it hurt when you fell-

Grian: From heaven? Wow, I didn't think you were such a flirt-

Mumbo: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.

Grian: ...

Mumbo: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

Tango: What's your biggest fear?

Mumbo: That I'll never be good enough for anyone.

Scar: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back.

Grian: Zombies.

Mumbo: ...

Scar: ...

Grian: BUT they can open doors.

BDubs, rushing into the room: It's terrible, just terrible! I am so upset!

Impulse: BDubs, honey, sit down! Sweetheart, tell us all about it. Etho, would you get BDubs some water?

Etho: What is he gonna do with water? Has water ever made you feel better when you were upset? Have you ever heard anyone say, "Thank God, the water's here!"?

Tango: Jimmy likes to say 'you can be part of the problem or part of the solution,' but I happen to believe you can be both.

Ren: Where are you going?

Etho: Hell, eventually.

Lizzie: *Talking to Joel* Oh, hi. I didn't see you there. Welcome to my abode. I'm glad you could join me.

FWhip: But this is my abode.

Lizzie: ...

Lizzie: Welcome to my abode, I'm so happy to have you, guest.

Impulse: I think we can all agree I'm the ten amongst these threes.

Jimmy, very tired: Can I sleep in your bed?

Scott: *half asleep* Jimmy, this is a queen-sized bed. That means it's for *gestures vaguely to himself* queens.

BigB: Hey Cleo, can you give me the opposite of these words?

BigB: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down.

Cleo: Never, Going, To, Give, You-

Cleo: The satisfaction.

Martyn: The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

Martyn: Hey, do you know the password to Cleo's computer?

Scott: Screw you, Martyn.

Martyn: Hey!!

Scott: No, you misunderstood, the password is "screwyouMartyn".

Martyn: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Pearl: Real life should have a search function, or something.

Pearl: I need my socks.

FWhip: So you like cats?

Sausage: Yeah.

FWhip: *tries to impress him by slowly pushing a glass off the table*

FWhip: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Scott: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Jimmy: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Oli: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Doc, about Etho: He's speaking some kind of French.

Ren: Let me handle it. I speak Spanish. It's the same thing.

Impulse: You call yourself my soulmate, but where were you when my meme only had four likes?

Tango: Making four accounts.

Impulse, tearing up: Really...?

Jimmy: *yawns*

Scott: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Jimmy: Then you must be exhuasted.

Joey: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

Scar, to Mumbo: If BDubs doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check.

BDubs, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!

Lizzie: Joel annoyed me today so I told him that I can't wait to see what he has planned for our special day tomorrow.

Gem: There is nothing special about tomorrow.

Lizzie: But there is something special about watching the color leave his face as panic takes over.

#ldshadowlady #geminitay #BDubs #bdoubleo100 #MumboJumbo #goodtimeswithscar #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #solidaritygaming #impulsesv #TangoTek #rendog #EthosLab #Docm77 #theorionsound #oli orionsound #FWhip #MythicalSausage #pearlescentmoon #InTheLittleWood #ZombieCleo #bigbst4tz2 #Grian #Xisuma #xisumavoid #ShubbleYT #Shelby Shubble #joel smallishbeans #SmallishBeans #Zedaph

[dark-frosted-heart]

Rather Be Drunk on Love - Keith Howell

They're so flipping cute.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Awoken by the morning light, I reach out to the spot beside me out of habit and notice something unusual.

(Huh, Emma’s not here?)

I look around and see Emma wrapped up in a blanket in the corner of the room, her face bright red.

Keith: Emma, what…

Emma: You don’t remember, Prince Keith?

Seeing how obviously cautious Emma’s being, cold sweat runs down my back.

(Did I, did I do something?)

As I jog my memory in my half-asleep state, I manage to remember something.

(I’m pretty sure I went out with Emma and Liam last night-)

~~ Flashback ~~

While at a popular tavern, we ran into a group of acquaintances.

Emma: They all seem pleasant.

Keith: You’re right. They’re good people.

Acquaintance: Come on Prince Keith and Lady Emma, drink more!

(Emma’s…already on her third cup)

When I glanced at her, I could see a hint of bitterness in her smile.I snatched the cup before Emma could accept it.

Acquaintance: Oh, what’s up?

Keith: Sorry. I got jealous when I saw Emma receiving drinks from another man. Can I have this?

Acquaintance: Whew! I’m sorry! Best of luck!

Emma: Prince Keith…

Keith: Here, this is for you.

When I handed Emma a glass of juice, she seemed to realize something and her eyes softened. 

Emma: Thank you.

Keith: It’s something I wanted to do myself. I really was jealous.

Liam: Prince Keith, are you sure you want to protect Lady Emma by drinking so much? 

Keith: I’m fine. I’m not a lightweight and if this big figure of mine doesn’t help now, then when will it?

Liam: Wait no, that’s not how it- Very well, just do it in moderation.

Keith: I know.

--

(I should’ve known…)

When we returned to the castle late at night, I suddenly felt very drunk once we returned to my room.

(I wonder if I just ran out of steam once I was alone with Emma)

Emma supported my wobbling body.

Emma: Are you alright?! You drank so much on my behalf…

Keith: I’m a big guy so I’ll be fine. 

Emma: I don’t think size has anything to do with it… Anyway, please sit. I’ll get you water.

When I managed to sit down on the bed, Emma tried to move away from me.I found myself reaching out and hugging her by the waist.

Emma: Prince Keith…the water…

Keith: I’d rather have you than water.

(This is bad…I’m too drunk to think straight…)

I was vaguely aware of the fact that I was smiling with how the corner of my lips relaxed. 

Emma: …

For some reason, Emma looked away.

Keith: Emma, what’s wrong?

Emma: It’s nothing…

Keith: Look at me.

Emma: I can’t.

Keith: I can’t do this either. 

When I cupped her cheeks and made her face me, my eyes met Emma’s, whose face was flushed as if she were drunk. 

Keith: Are you drunk too?

Emma: It’s not that, but your face…

Keith: Disgraceful? Yeah, since I’m drunk-

Emma: It’s not that at all! Your face is just more alluring than usual…! It’s too much for me to look at!

Keith: o_o … You’re so cute, Emma.

(Why is she so cute?)

I laid down on the bed in my drunken state.With Emma in my arms, I kissed her repeatedly.

Keith: I’ve been thinking about it ever since we were at the tavern but…You’re pretty adorable and sweet. It was originally just us and Liam, but you didn’t mind having some acquaintances join us. Rather, you welcomed them and treated my friends with care.

Emma: It’s only natural when your friends are important to you. They were great people and I had fun.

Keith: I think that’s what makes you so charming. You’re still the same woman I fell in love with.

Emma: Prince Keith…Don’t smile at me like that-

Keith: While some things haven’t changed since we met, there are new sides to you that pop up as we spend time together. I’ve always loved you. Oh, do I love you because I love you? Anyway, I love you.

Emma: …

I squeezed her cheeks and kissed her deeply.Emma, who shyly reciprocated, was so cute that my body which was already hot from being drunk became even hotter.

Keith: Emma…I love you

Emma: I-I know already!

Keith: Nope, I haven’t told you enough.

I caressed every inch of skin.I deliberately fiddled with her brooch and slid a hand between her legs.I’ve done it time and time again, but Emma’s was very reactive.

Keith: Oh, you’re more sensitive than-

Emma: Please don’t finish that sentence! I really can’t handle your drunken smile…

Keith: …

Emma: Nn, ah…I told you-

Keith: Sorry Emma I don’t think I can stop…

~~ End Flashback ~~

(Now I’ve done it…)

My blood runs cold as I recall my indecent behavior.

While Emma was embarrassed, I just kept-

Keith: I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry! Hit me if you want…Actually if you do that, you’ll hurt your hand. I’ll beat myself up instead-

Emma: Don’t do that?!

Emma throws the blanket off in a hurry and grabs my hand in panic.

Keith: But…

Emma: I was just embarrassed. I didn’t hate it or anything. Besides…It’s not often I get to see you drunk, Prince Keith, so I was kind of happy. I heard a lot of “I love you’s”...

Keith: o_o …  

Emma: I forgive you.

Keith: You really are too kind…

(That’s what I love about you) (I’m going to stop drinking for a while though…)

When I hug Emma, she lays her cheek on my chest and we savor the morning bliss.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikepri summary #keith howell #ikepri keith

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 17

Fuck, guys, I don’t even know what this story is even doing at this point. I’m on part 18 and it does NOT want to wrap up. Like at all. It wants to go on forever and I don’t know how to stop it. It MIGHT be 20 parts. It might be 50 at this point. Who the hell knows? Not this poor belabored author that’s for sure.

Anyway...so this part is a little on the sad side. We get more of Eddie’s backstory. And a little bit of bitchy Steve to lighten it up at the end.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

*

It wasn’t until Steve was getting ready for school the next morning that he found he had left the comic at Eddie’s.

He was throwing homework in his bag when he realized it felt lighter than it should.

He unpacked it slowly and set everything out on his bed. He stood there looking at his stuff, hands on his hips for a moment before it dawned on him.

Shit.

The comic book. After he had finished all the pages he had painstakingly put them together in comic book form. He even designed the cover. Then took them to copying store and got it bound like a real comic book.

The kid at the shop was impressed with how well the pages were mapped out.

But it wasn’t in his stuff he had pulled from his bag. Which meant one thing. Eddie had it.

It was fine. No need to panic. He had written for Eddie. He was meant to read it.

So why was he freaking out?

Oh, only because Steve didn’t want him to read it until after the school play. Hell Steve’s nerves were already shot with the three additional performances Steve wasn’t planning on having to do. But adding Eddie knowing about the Upside Down? It made him vaguely ill.

Fuck what if he did throw up from nerves? He’d never done it before, but then again, he’d never performed in front other people before either. He was a literal mess.

He packed away all his things carefully and prayed to whatever supreme being that was out there for a merciful death on his way to school.

*

Eddie had stayed up the whole night reading Steve’s comic. Personally, he thought that the story was good, the characters were interesting and the monsters were frightening enough.

It wasn’t until he got the final page of the comic where Steve’s afterword was.

Unlike the rest of it where it was professionally done, the last page had a carefully glued on piece of paper. So this was clearly something that Steve didn’t want other people to see.

And Eddie would have respected that if it hadn’t been addressed to him directly.

“Eddie-

So there you have it. The start of my trauma. And yes this is only the start. The real story began with a missing boy and a cover up so large it frightens me. But that was never my story to tell. This is my story. This is where it truly began for me.

Well. That’s not quite true. It started with a girl and a swimming pool. A tragedy that should have been mine. But that night I was so intent on getting laid that I let it happen. Barb deserved better than me. She should have lived and I died.

I don’t know why I lived. Maybe it was because I was needed to protect those closest to me. That’s all I thought I was good for. Dying in a blaze of glory protecting those I hold most dear. And then I met you.

God, Eddie, you make me want to live. For the first time in my miserable existence I found people who like me for me. And not just because I was needed. To protect. To defend. To die. For them.

And then you came along and protected me. Defended me. I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before.

Just do me one favor. Peel out this insert. Throw it away. Burn it. I don’t care. Just as long as you are the only one that sees it. I don’t want you in danger. But I needed you know this side of me.

The boy with the bat. The boy who never knew what love really was until he met you.

-Love Steve”

Eddie choked back tears and place a hand to his trembling lips. If Steve had really gone through all that. If even a fraction of it was true. Even if none of it was. That was still the most beautiful love letter he had ever seen. And it was addressed to him.

Shit.

Tears rolled down his face as he read the letter again and again. After the seventh or eighth read he finally did what Steve requested and peeled the letter out of the last page of the comic. He folded it carefully and crawled under his bed.

Buried underneath of the mess was a simple black lockbox. He set it gently on his bed and then went to his dresser. He slid out the bottom drawer and jiggled the bottom until a small key fell out onto the floor.

He picked the key up and sat on his bed. He unlocked the box and placed the key between his lips for safe keeping.

Inside the box were all the things Eddie didn’t want other people to see. The couple of birthday cards his dad had sent him from prison. His mom’s suicide note.

Not even Wayne had seen that one. No one knew but Eddie that she had taken her own life. He had seen her life insurance policy and knew it wouldn’t pay out if they thought it was intentional. So accidental overdose was what was on her death certificate.

Eddie had been her sole beneficiary and it was placed in trust until he turned twenty-one. He was going to use it fund the band and get the hell out of Hawkins. He just had to make that far.

The paperwork for the trust was in there too. Wayne had offered to hold on to it for him but at the time Eddie didn’t trust anyone and giving that up felt like too much.

His birth certificate was in here too. Well a copy of it anyway. Wayne had the original, but Eddie liked knowing he had a copy too. In case he needed to get away fast.

Also in here was a portion of the money he had made from dealing drugs. He told Reefer Rick, no meth and no cocaine. Mainly weed and mushrooms, with a small smattering of the harder drugs. He had set aside ten percent of his earnings as an emergency fund. In case he needed it.

The last thing that was in there was a picture of his mom. She’s sitting on the swings next to Eddie and smiling into the camera as Eddie laughs gleefully. Just out of frame was his dad who had been pushing him on the swing. It was the last moment of happiness Eddie had before Lawrence Munson got into selling and doing drugs. Had got his wife, Edie addicted. Before Larry had got himself arrested in Texas and Eddie was sent to go live with Wayne.

He placed the love letter on top and closed the box. He locked it back up and set everything to rights. He looked at the alarm clock and groaned when the bright red numbers glared back him. It was 4:57am.

Fuck.

Eddie was supposed to be up in an hour for school. Yeah. That wasn’t happening today. He flopped on the bed and threw his arms out. He thought about the comic and what was inside it. He remembered Steve telling him that he had changed it so unless you were there that day you wouldn’t recognize the events. But even with that it felt...well, it felt like he was being let in on secret if he was honest. A big one.

He looked over at the clock again and it was almost six. He sighed and got up. He grabbed the stuff he needed for his shower and ducked into the bathroom. The last thing he needed this morning was Wayne seeing him still in the clothes he wore the night before.

He showered quickly and got out before Wayne had even turned on the coffee pot. He was dressed and ready for school before the pot had finished brewing.

Wayne handed him a cup of coffee and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What do you want, old man?” Eddie groused. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk considering he was running on fumes.

“You were up all night reading that comic, weren’t you?” Wayne said and took a long sip of his coffee.

Eddie sighed. He should have known better than to think that Wayne wouldn’t catch him at it. After all this was the man who had been catching him reading books at three o’clock in the morning since he was twelve.

“It’s Steve’s.”

“I didn’t know he read comic books,” Wayne said almost an echo of what he said the night before.

“As in he wrote and drew it,” Eddie clarified.

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a pretty talented boy you got there, Eddie.”

Eddie blushed. “I know. This was the story he was originally going to tell for his art class. Seniors in ART 4 had to do an eight page comic book for their winter finale. Steve started doing this one, but the teacher flipped out and threatened to call his parents because it was ‘too scary’ or some other dumb shit.”

“So he completed it anyway and turned in something else?” Wayne supposed.

Eddie nodded. “He told me he was going to finish it so that I could read it.”

Wayne hummed. “Do you think he left it here on purpose? So that you would read it without having to physically hand it to you?”

Eddie tilted his head and looked up thoughtfully. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think Steve would have wanted to explain it to me.” He hung his head. “I shouldn’t have read it without that permission, but you know me.”

“I don’t think I would have been able to resist reading something that was meant for me either,” Wayne said, nodding.

Eddie drank the rest of his coffee and kissed his uncle on the cheek. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Bring that boy yours with you,” Wayne said. “I’m making my lasagna tonight, and I want him over for dinner.”

Eddie grinned. “You got it, old man.”

He was out the door and driving off before Wayne could even shake his head. Wayne loved that boy and if he was really lucky he would get another sweet boy out of this deal.

*

Steve was standing nervously at the door to the math hall because it was closest to the parking lot, chewing on his thumb nail. He knew he shouldn’t chew on his nails, but his nerves were shot to hell.

But the bell rang and there was still no sign of Eddie. So after a moment or so of indecision Steve gave up and went to class.

He spent this first class of the day fidgeting with his pencil, tapping against whatever surface was in reach. The desk, his book, his lips, his hand.

Finally the teacher had enough.

“Mr Harrington!” she barked.

Steve looked up at her in shock. “Yes, Miss Davis?”

“Do you have some hot date tonight that you’re nervous about or something?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest as she stared him down.

Steve looked at her blankly.

“Your pencil, Mr Harrington,” she explained tersely.

He looked down at the pencil. “No, Miss Davis. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I’ll stop.”

Miss Davis pursed her lips. “See that you do.”

Steve tried finding less obvious ways to work through his nerves and then it hit him. He pulled out his drawing pad and began to doodle.

“Mr Harrington,” Miss Davis called out again some time later. “Would you please pay attention in my class?”

Steve blinked up at her. “You were talking about the Spanish forced colonization of South America, weren’t you?”

A couple of the kids in the class giggled.

Miss Davis turned red from the embarrassment. “Carry on.”

Steve gave her his lop-sided goofy grin.

Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @garden-of-gay @anaibis @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites   @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @lovelyscot @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @jinxjinn @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @estrellami-1 @dangdirtydemons @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread 

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

[shieldofiron]

Jason woke up feeling like warmed over death. He tried to open his eyes and then quickly closed them when the sunlight streaming through the windows hid him right in the face.

He reached for the nightstand where his drunk self usually laid out alka seltzer and water and met open air. Wincing, and with his eyes still closed he heaved out of bed. Either the floor was suddenly further away, he was more hungover than he thought, or-

He cracked his eyes open and glimpsed a crumpled costume piece from the night before. His angel’s wings were tangled with a studded leather belt that brought back a flood of embarrassing memories.

“I want it,” He remembers pouting, tugging off the stranger’s belt with quick movements.

The voice in his memory was low and thrilling, “You’re too drunk, little angel.”

“In the morning?” Jason had asked.

“Okay. In the morning.”

Jason closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Morning.”

Jason turned with a groan, “I’m like… so insanely hung over. If I try to blow you I think I’ll puke.”

“Relax,” The stranger’s voice sounded vaguely familiar, which helped settle the anxiety in his stomach, “You need water or anything?”

“Uh,” Jason peeked his eyes open to take in the messy room, “You have any alka seltzer?”

“Sure,” The stranger was way too chipper.

He was also, Jason noted, fucking loaded. Jason hadn’t been in an apartment this nice since moving to Chicago. The windows were so bright because they were one continuous curved piece of glass overlooking the city. The bed was grand, some type of enormous California king. Or what Jason’s friends might call an orgy bed.

“Here,” A tattooed wrist came into view, handing Jason a glass of fizzing water, “It’s not done-“

Jason chugged it, gulping down the glass and the crumbles at the bottom in a single seasoned motion.

“Oh shit,” The stranger giggled.

Jason glanced up. He sort of looked familiar too, but then again Jason had always had a type. Ever since flustered, self hating moments in high school where he would stare across the locker room at Eddie Munson’s tattoos. And then beat him up for the privilege of touching him.

Anyway, the other go go boys had taken to pointing them out to him. Rockstar, Ten O’clock… That one at the bar is for Jason, go over and flirt, honey.

So this wasn’t exactly a situation Jason had never been in. Though the fancy apartment was kind of a change.

“Do I need to take you out to breakfast,” The guy had a nice smile. Kind of soft. And long, very long hair.

“No, s-sorry, I’ll get out of your hair,” Jason tried to hop to his feet and groaned.

The stranger reached out and pulled Jason close, tugging him on shaky legs until he was enveloped in a kind of half hug.

“I was gonna say,” The guy smiled against Jason’s temple, “Or can you stay in bed and I’ll make you something.”

“Oh, uh-“ It wasn’t like Jason had anywhere to be. His roommate was a drag queen about twenty years older than him and he never woke up before noon. The day after Halloween was pretty slow at the club and he didn’t have to be there until 8:30 pm.

“C’mon,” The stranger tugged him a little closer, “You got glitter on my sheets, you owe me.”

“I leave glitter everywhere,” Jason pouted, “You’re not special.”

The stranger chuckled, “Oh, I kinda missed that.”

Before Jason could even imagine what the Stranger meant, he was yanked back towards the bed.

“You don’t have work?” The stranger asked.

“Not until later,” Jason muttered, “Sorry about last night. I normally don’t get drunk like that at work.”

“It was after work that you got so drunk,” The stranger said.

“Did I?”

They flopped back onto the bed, Jason tangled in long dark hair and tattooed arms. So basically heaven.

“You kept saying you needed courage,” The Stranger muttered, sounding a little put out.

“Sorry,” Jason shrugged. “It’s just, you’re really hot.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” the stranger grinned, dark eyes sparking, “Tiger.”

“I guess,” Jason got a little lost in the moment, “I can stay.”

“Great! I’ll make us some eggs and toast,” The stranger bounded out of bed, “You stay right there.”

“Okay,” Jason swallowed.

Maybe it was a pretty woman type thing. Not that this guy seemed so super mega rich. And not like Jason was a hooker. People thought all the dancers went for that but Jason had never been able to go through with it.

He laid back in the bed which was indeed smeared with glitter.

“Sorry about the glitter,” He called out, cringing, “Occupational hazard.”

“I don’t mind,” The stranger called back, “They’re not my sheets to clean.”

Jason blinked, “Uh, is this apartment… um…”

“I didn’t break in,” The stranger read his mind, “It’s owned by the record company. I’m in town to record an album then it’s back to LA.”

“Wow,” Jason glanced around, “Would I have heard any of your music?”

The stranger paused in a strange way, “You don’t listen to metal now, do you?”

That was a weird way to put it. Now. Like he didn’t used to. Well, he didn’t but this guy didn’t know that.

“I had an ex who got me into it a little,” Jason rocked a little, tucking his knees up to his chest, “I like tattooed guys, so it comes with the territory.”

He could practically hear the guys smile, “Do you now?”

“Yeah,” Jason said stiffly, until he realized that sounded rude. “Just my type, I guess.”

The stranger appeared suddenly in the doorway, “Jason.”

Jason startled, the arms wrapped around his knees tightening. This guys voice was very familiar. And he was asking if Jason liked music now, calling him tiger.

It nailed him like a sucker punch, “Eddie?”

“I was waiting for you to realize,” Eddie grinned.

Jason’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s.

“You must have been really drunk last night,” Eddie smiled, shaking his head.

“I g-guess I was.”

His mind was racing a mile a minute. Eddie Munson… Christ. This wasn’t a pretty woman thing. This was a revenge of the nerds thing.

Jason scrambled up, his whole body protesting moving from the big comfy bed, “I gotta go-“

“You just said you were gonna stay.”

“I… I’m… did we have sex last night?” Jason tugged on his tiny white shorts. He didn’t see his club bag anywhere, which meant he’d spent the whole night with Eddie Munson in a white speedo and angel’s wings.

“No, you were too drunk. Where are you going?”

“I gotta go-“

“Jason, what’s the problem?”

“Is this a revenge thing?” Jason whispered as he snatched his halo off the four poster bed, “You gonna call everyone in Hawkins and tell them that I dance at a gay club and go home with people for money?”

Something breaks on Eddie’s face, “You went home with me for money?”

“No!” Jason half shouts it, “I just mean-“

“This isn’t a revenge thing. I just saw you dancing and you came up to me and started flirting,” Eddie shook his head, “I just… like you.”

Jason crumples the halo in his hands.

“And if you’re going, you can’t go like that, you’ll freeze to death. I had to force you to wear my jacket last night, I’m surprised you don’t have frostbite on your tits.” Eddie shook his head.

Jason made a little choked sound.

“So I take it you’re not out in Hawkins?” Eddie ventured when Jason didn’t move a muscle.

Jason shook his head.

“Me either,” Eddie gave him a tentative smile.

Jason twisted the halo in his hands.

“Look, please stay. Please,” Eddie bit his lip, “Or if you have to go let me at least give you a shirt for Christ’s sake. You look good enough to eat.”

Jason’s cheeks went up in flames, like hellfire.

He looked down at the ground.

The smoke alarm started screeching in the next room and Eddie went pale.

“Fuck.”

They both sprinted out into the kitchen where the eggs were smoking, black and charred to the bottom of the pan.

Jason opened one of the huge windows, while Eddie tossed the pan into the sink, dousing it in water that sent up a huge puff of steam.

“Well there goes trying to impress you,” Eddie shoved a little at the pan, “Fuck.”

“You wanted to impress me?” Jason shivers and it’s not entirely because there’s icy fall air blowing across his bare chest.

“Well? Yeah? I want you to stay. In my bed,” Eddie doesn’t look up from the pan, “Wanted to ask if you had a night off soon. Maybe I could take you out. Somewhere with no alcohol. Like the movies or something.”

Jason swallowed, “I like you too. Like… I… I always had a crush on you, so…”

“So?”

“So if you don’t mind glitter on your sheets,” Jason bit his lip, “We could just have the toast in bed.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s eyes went round.

“Or we could skip the toast.”

“Is that a yes to the date?” Eddie ventured.

Jason dropped his halo to the ground.

“Yes.”

Also on Ao3

#munver #tigerfreak #my writing #Jason carver #Eddie Munson

[befuddled-calico-whump]

The Return

cw: referenced torture, intimate whumper, mild dissociation, nudity, dubcon touch, vaguely referenced dubcon

previous ///// T$$ Masterlist

~

The spy becomes Sahota again as he passes through the compound doors, leaving behind two dead men in a courthouse basement. Two more tally marks on a more morbid list, one he's never bothered to make. Nowadays, he almost wishes he'd been counting his kills from the start, if only to know how bloodsoaked he’s become, if only to remind himself that this is who he is, all he'll ever be.

If you're drowning in blood, there are no lifeboats coming to save you.

Sahota walks silent into the bedroom he shares with Shepard Vic, the one place his master allows him to be Ander, though it's been quite some time since he's felt like Ander. He doesn't turn on the lights, not wanting to wake Vic, and makes his way into the connected bathroom from memory, closing the door behind him and flipping on the single bulb that sits muted over the shower.

He doesn't look into the mirror as he crosses the small room. He already knows what he'll see. A bruised and scarred face that doesn't always feel like his own. Sahota turns the hot water on and strips, trying to suppress a wince as he removes his shirt even though the session is over and he's alone. It's a habit. He does a cursory glance in the mirror to look over his back, finding it bruised, but not nearly as bad as his ribs and stomach. Another one of his captors’ flaws. They'd have better luck with a victim if they'd broaden their area of attack, if they got creative.

Along with the cuts and bruises, they’d also given his hands some attention. Two broken fingers on the right, and a pulled nail on his left index. If they'd been smarter, they would've saved those for the camera. It was the only time they'd made him scream.

But then, dead men don't need to be smart.

Sahota steps into the flow of hot water, carefully running his hands through his hair, washing off the weariness of the mission. In less than six hours, he'll need to be alert and ready to brief the team on the new intel. Knowing them and their naivete, they'll probably question his acquired bruises instead of letting it lie, but they should shut up quick enough if he offers no explanation.

He thinks they might be afraid of him. They should be, but their fear doesn't bring the satisfaction he’d thought it would. His own fault, really. He still gets tangled in his own emotions, in something that threatens to grow into attachment. He should be reveling in the way they look at him, at the feeling of finally being the one calling the shots, the one in control, the one who's doing the hurting.

But it doesn't feel good. It just makes him feel like Vic.

Sahota lets out a sigh as he turns his face upwards to let the water fall on it—

—and tenses as he feels a pair of hands settles on his waist.

Vic. He has the size, the heat, the calloused palms memorized. His body relaxes.

The older man slips under the water to join him. “Back already?”

“They didn't stand a chance.” He leans into the heat of Vic's body. He likes him better when he's hurt, that's no secret. It's when he can expect the most attention, even with the new team around to divide his master's focus.

“I'm glad. I thought I'd miss you tonight,” Vic says, nuzzling the side of his neck. Over the years they've settled into something more akin to the life of an old married couple, if that couple dealt in blood. Stolen kisses and affectionate touches, maybe being laid down in bed a few times a week. It almost feels warm and gentle and genuine. Sahota could make himself believe it if not for nights like this, when he returns wounded and some of Vic's old habits open their eyes.

His master moves one hand up his side, digging fingers into his bruised ribs until the pressure drags a yelp from his throat. He pulls him around so they're face-to-face and kisses him through the pain as he holds him in a too-tight embrace.

“Did you find anything?” The older man's tone shifts to something more businesslike. How easily Vic changes roles, seemingly without struggle or pause. The spy wishes it could flow so well for him.

“Yes. I've compiled everything into a file. I'll have it ready to go by morning.”

“Good job.”

A seed of warmth blooms in Sahota's chest at the words, simple as they are. “How much longer do you think it will be until we're ready to launch this mission?”

Vic reaches around to shut off the water. “A few more weeks at most. They're making steady progress. Hunter especially.”

Sahota tenses at the mention of Harbor, but forces himself to shake it off, stepping out onto the bath mat. “Is that so?” is all he says. He's already seen the way Vic looks at him. Like a cat watching a mouse. A new toy.

He used to get that look in his eyes for him, and Sahota hates the twinge of jealousy in his chest, hates the sharper emotions hiding behind it.

“His biotech will prove invaluable for the mission. Maybe for more.”

“More?”

“He’d be an asset to the team.”

Sahota knows he isn't talking about the new kids. He means the two of them. The team. He doubts Harbor's role will end at asset. A sick mixture of jealousy and fear creeps up his throat, threatening to spill out of his mouth in spoken worries, in pleading don't replace me's, don't make me obsolete's.

He chokes it down. Vic wants what Vic wants, and attempting to sway his desires only ever ends poorly.

Instead, Sahota towels off, careful to hold the thick fabric only in his uninjured fingers.

“Maybe he will,” he says. He has no time to waste on his own conflicting emotions. He has intelligence to sort, and if he gets started now, he might be able to catch a few hours of sleep before the team is awake.

He dresses, pocketing a roll of medical tape. He'll set and bind his fingers while the files are uploading. It's more efficient that way.

Vic calls after him in a soft voice, in the tone that reminds Sahota that he does love him, in what ways he can.

“Goodnight, little spy.”

Another name reserved for closed doors, for just the two of them. To remind him that he belongs to Vic, and he should be grateful.

“Good night,” he replies, then pulls the door closed behind him.

~

@theonewithallthefixations , @violet-prism-creatively , @whump-me

#sahota after being tortured: *criticizing his captors methods and lack of creativity* #yeah heed the warnings! sahota definitely gets a darker tone than the rest #and yeah im on a sahota roll i guess #t$$ sahota #intimate whumper #spy whump #total$hit$how #angst #a sanitized version for this account