#as long as i can get some fucking sleep and keep eating decently and not getting sick

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Knight in Shining Motorcycle

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: almost rape, touching without consent, kissing without consent, calling one a bitch and 'easy' for not giving in, heartbroken-ness, fluff at the end, bucky being protective

Summary: Your roommate, Bucky, is one of the worst players you've ever seen. He has a new girl every week and doesn't stay too long to get feelings. When a cute barista asks you on a date, he's not too keen on who it is. You think this is the opportunity you need to get over Bucky but the date doesn't go as planned, and your knight in shining motorcycle comes to your rescue.

Squares Filled: leather jacket (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You didn’t get a lot of sleep last night after a particularly rough night. Your roommate had a special friend over making all kinds of noises you’d rather not hear come from his room. It’s not that you were upset that he was getting some and you weren't, it’s that you wish it was you in that room instead of her.

But it’s not like you’re gonna tell him that.

You get out of bed with a yawn and leave your bedroom in search of food. You just bought your favorite cereal that you can’t wait to dig into. You turn the corner and stop when you see a woman you don’t know in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. Upon closer examination, you see it’s your favorite cereal.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” the woman says and smiles at you.

“Is that my cereal?”

“Bucky said I could use this one.”

“Of course,” you roll your eyes.

You turn and storm over to Bucky’s room which is down the hall from yours. You don’t bother knocking so you enter his room expecting to see him lounging around but he’s standing in the middle of the room with only a towel on his waist. Water drips from his toned chest down to the top of the towel, and you find yourself watching the water droplets disappear behind the towel. He clearly sees you checking him out which boosts his ego. He always knew you had a thing for him ever since his sister introduced you two. You look at his face to see him smirking and you give him a deadly glare.

“Are you gonna stay for the show, or…?”

He undoes his towel but doesn’t remove it from his waist so he’s still covered. You jump at the thought of seeing how big his cock is.

“Tell your whores to keep their paws off my shit. She better be gone before I get home.”

You turn and slam his door, missing the way he smirks at your attitude. You quickly get dressed and head out before Bucky can leave his room. You meet up with your best friend who happens to be the sister of Bucky. She waves you over once she sees you but frowns at the sour look on your face.

“Is it Bucky again?”

“He was non-stop fucking this bitch all night, and she was eating my cereal this morning. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep and I didn’t get to eat breakfast.”

“I told you not to be roommates with him.”

When you moved into town to get away from your overbearing family, the only person who would rent to you on such short notice was Bucky. You weren't a stranger, you’re practically part of his family, and he figured he could make some decent money off your part of the rent since he can pay for it fully without your help. Mia warned you not to room with her brother since he’s known to fuck a new girl every week, sometimes twice a week, but you needed a place to stay.

“He’s not all bad all the time, but there are times like this morning when I want to wring his sculpted neck,” you groan.

“Still not over your crush on him?”

Mia is used to all her friends having crushes on her brother. He’s charming, cocky, arrogant, can be super romantic, very protective, and smoking fucking hot. You’re the only one who stuck around long enough to catch Bucky’s attention.

“He’s not worth crushing on.” She looks at you and raises her eyebrows. “Okay, no, and it’s never going to happen. I’m just waiting for this phase to pass however long it may take.”

You two head inside the coffee shop and get in line. Since you couldn’t eat breakfast at home, you’re going to get a sandwich and a coffee with a double espresso. You get to the front of the line and smile at the male barista, Jackson.

“Hi, how are you doing?” he asks.

“Better now that I’m gonna get some energy in me.”

“What can I get for you?” You give him your order. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You blush at the compliment and look at Mia who smiles. “Is it safe to assume you’re single?”

“I am.”

“Can I take you out tonight? Say, seven?”

You’re quite sure what to say to this. Your mind thinks back to Bucky and how you’ll suffer waiting for him, and Mia shoves you forward as if to say, “This is your way of getting over Bucky”.

“Sure.”

“Cool.” He scribbles his number on the cup and winks at you. “Call me.”

Mia gives him her order and the two of you wait on the other side of the shop for your coffees to come out.

“Girl, I can’t believe that just happened. He’s cute!”

“I know. Is it bad that I'm actually kind of excited?”

“Hell no! What are you gonna wear?”

“That new dress I bought last week.” You grab both your coffees when they’re ready and hand Mia hers. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work done before the date.”

“You work too much.”

“You can’t talk. You don’t work at all.”

You and Mia say your goodbyes and you head back to your apartment. Thankfully, Bucky’s whore is gone so you’ll be able to get some work done. Bucky locked himself in his room but you’re not thinking about him right now. There is a mini workstation across the room from you where you can go to work. Bucky was using it as a video game/music room but gave it to you when he heard you needed it.

You put your headphones on and get to work. You’re an IT support girl for Apple that specializes in fixing computers for people by logging into their network and diagnosing the problem. The next six hours are spent on the computer, talking to people, logging in lots of hours, and watching movies on your other screen.

You have two hours before the date starts so you decide to clock out for the day. You’re not sure what kind of date you’re going to go on so you’ll grab something to eat here. The kitchen is empty when you enter it, and you grab the ingredients for a BLT. Bucky made a bunch of bacon since it was expiring soon, so you’re finding new ways to eat it before it goes bad.

You slather some mayonnaise onto the bread and layer the ingredients on there. When you put the lettuce on, you squirt some mustard on top. The first bite always tastes like Heaven, and you smile as you chew.

Your smile is lost when you feel someone right behind you. Bucky places his left hand on the counter next to you and the other reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet above you. He presses his body against yours so that you feel the outline of his muscles.

“Excuse me,” he whispers into your ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a glass. I’m thirsty.” He backs up slightly which allows you to turn around but the hand on the counter doesn’t move. “Are you done with work?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s do something. The bowling alley doesn’t close until midnight.”

“I can’t. I have a date.”

Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He takes three steps back from you and anger is evident on his face.

“What?” With who?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You grab your sandwich and a paper plate and walk back to your room. Bucky shakes his head and quickly follows after you, not being done with this conversation.

“Yeah, I would.”

“Can you get out? I’m changing,” you say and set your sandwich down on your dresser.

“If I see something I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a dollar at it and I’m all out of singles.”

“Get out.”

You push him out of the room and close and lock the door. Bucky can’t believe what he’s hearing right now so he takes his phone out to text his sister. If anyone knows who you’re going on a date with, it’s her.

Before getting dressed, you decide to take a shower. Bucky likes to keep his room clean but the bathroom is a different story. He has products everywhere, his short hair litters the sink and his clothes are strewn about haphazardly. You thought you were bad. You ran out of shampoo and conditioner a while ago so you’ve been sneaking some of Bucky’s without him noticing, and this time is no different. He’s not gonna miss a few drops from each bottle since he has so little hair.

After the shower, you walk into your room and grab the dress you bought last week. It’s strapless with the sleeves only covering your arms from the elbows down and it goes down to your knees. You pair this with chunky wedges that make you taller by a few inches, and you pin your hair back in soft curls.

As soon as you slide in the last bobby pin, Bucky comes into your room through the bathroom since your door is still locked.

“I could have been naked.”

“What the fuck are you doing going on a date with Jackson Elliot?”

Mia must have told him who you were going out with.

“He’s a nice man who asked me out. What the big deal?”

“He’s a playboy.”

“Like you aren’t?” you scoff and swipe some lip gloss on your lips.

“Doll, you wish you were going on a date with me.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t ask me. He did.” You unlock your door and head into the living room with Bucky trailing behind you. A motorcycle can be heard from the street below and seconds later, a message pops up on your phone. “He’s here.” You two look out the window and see Jackson on his motorcycle which makes Bucky laugh. “What?”

“There’s no way in hell you’re getting on that.”

“You have a motorcycle.”

“Yeah, I know how to ride one.”

“I have a date to get to. Excuse me. Don’t wait up for me.”

Bucky watches you leave the apartment. You two are on the second floor so it doesn’t take long for you to get down to Jackson. Jackson gives you a winning smile as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle. You look up at Bucky who is watching from the window, and you slide your arms around Jackson’s waist just to piss him off. He glares down at you as Jackson takes off down the street.

He didn’t even give you a helmet to put on.

Jackson takes you to the beach that is quickly losing people as the sun goes down. The water gets colder, the wind gets cooler, and the beach becomes less crowded at this time of night. You didn’t know he was taking you here otherwise you’d have worn something warmer.

“Wow, it’s kind of cold out here,” you shiver.

“You’ll be alright,” Jackson says without offering his jacket to you. He takes you down to the tables where people can sit and have lunch or stop to rest underneath the umbrellas. The employees of the restaurant had tied the umbrellas down so they wouldn't blow away in the night. “So, have you lived here long?”

“For a year, yeah,” you nod.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you at the coffee shop? I think I would have remembered someone like you.”

“Well, my best friend and I actually went to this other coffee shop that’s in the middle of our apartments. We went there for quite a while but they closed, so we--” You’re suddenly cut off by his lips on yours. You’re completely taken aback by this and pull away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

He leans in and kisses you again but you put your hands on his chest to push him away.

“Wait, a second--”

“Come on, you know you like it.”

Instead of attacking your lips, he forces his mouth on your neck. His right hand grips your thigh and starts moving dangerously close to a place where you don’t want him.

“No, stop,” you gasp and try to push his hand away.

“Come on, baby. There’s no one around for miles.”

“I said stop!”

You push him away and slap him right across the cheek as hard as you can. An angry look passes over his face as if you told him you wanted this and suddenly said no.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he scoffs and gets up.

“I thought you wanted to date me, not do this. I wouldn't have come otherwise.”

“The only reason I asked you out was because I heard you were easy. I’m out of here. Find your own way home.”

If there were people around, they would for sure hear your heart break. Jackson leaves you stranded at the beach with no way of getting home. You contemplate calling Bucky but you don’t want to hear an, “I told you so” from him. Plus, he’d probably get off on seeing you so sad. Jackson’s motorcycle roars to life as he drives away, and you miss the second motorcycle that speeds by the beach after him.

Thirty minutes pass by that feels like hours, and you’ve moved from the tables to the sand where you’re sitting and watching the ocean crash upon the shore. No one is on the streets walking by or on the beach but you hear footsteps come closer to you. At this point, you don’t care who it is. The person sits down next to you and you see familiar boots come into view.

“Look at me,” Bucky says gently. You can’t. He slides two fingers under your chin and pulls it toward him so you’re forced to look at him. There are new and dried tears on your cheek that break his heart to see. He uses his other hand to wipe the tears away. “He’s not worth crying over.”

“I thought he liked me,” you sniffle. Bucky removes his hands from you and that’s when you see it. Bucky’s knuckles are raw and busted with dried blood crusting over the wounds. You grab his hand and run your thumb gently over the wounds. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

He lets his hand linger in yours for a few seconds before he pulls away completely.

“I bought this dress last week. I never thought I’d get to wear it,” you sigh sadly.

Bucky opens his mouth to tell you just how gorgeous you look in it when he sees you shiver. Upon closer examination, he sees goosebumps litter your arm. He immediately takes off his leather jacket for you to wear.

“Here, put this on.”

“No, I’m okay--”

“Doll, take the jacket.”

He wraps the jacket around your shoulders. You’re immediately enveloped with warmth and his smell. It makes you smile which doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky.

“Thank you.”

“Come on, let’s go home.”

Bucky gets up and holds his hand out for you to take which you do, and he helps you to his feet. He takes you to his motorcycle and grabs the only helmet for you to wear.

“No, you should wear it.”

“Doll, take the damn helmet.”

You do and shove it on your head. Even this smells like him which is making you dizzy. He gets onto the bike first then you do, but you’re not pressed against him like he knows you should be. You’re sitting up instead of leaning into him, and he fires his baby to life. He jerks the bike forward and you go flying into him from behind. You wrap your arms around his waist to steady yourself and he smirks without looking back at you.

He drives off carefully but you’re holding onto him for dear life. Just as he thinks he can get used to holding onto him, he arrives at your apartment building. No words are exchanged as you two make your way inside the apartment. You stop right outside your door and Bucky leans on the wall next to it.

“Thank you for taking me home.”

“We live together. I was just driving myself home,” he jokes.

“Still. Thank you,” you smile. You grab your doorknob to enter your room when you pause. “Oh, here is your jacket.”

“Keep it. I have another one.”

“Okay,” you blush. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Doll.”

You and Bucky retreat into your own rooms for the night. You get ready for bed and crawl under the covers. You try and get some sleep but you can’t get the feel of Jackson’s hands off your body and the feel of his lips off your lips. No matter what you do, the disgust you feel is blocking you from getting sleep.

The thought of Jackson is replaced with the thought of Bucky and how gently he treated you. There is a softer side to Bucky that no one else sees but you that you’re grateful for. Maybe… no, he probably won’t let you. Maybe? You get out of bed and walk through the bathroom to his door and knock on it lightly.

“Come in,” you hear him say.

You push the door open and see him lying on his bed without a shirt on. It makes sense he doesn’t have one on since he’s going to sleep but the sight makes your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

Bucky doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he scoots over to give you room to sleep. You quickly crawl into bed and lay flat on your back. The both of you don’t say a word to each other for fear of ruining the moment. What would you even say to him? Thank you? Sleep tight? Don’t let the bed bugs bite? Bucky can hear the gears in your head turn so he turns toward you and wraps his arm around your waist. He pulls you into him so your back is pressed against his chest.

It’s scary how well you fit against him.

Bucky can feel you smile against his arm as you allow sleep to come easily to you. He presses his head in your hair and takes a whiff of your scent. He smells his shampoo in your hair and the thought of you using his shit makes him smile.

You make him happy and he hates it took him a year to figure it out.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction #marvel angst #mcu angst

[vickyyoon]

Dilf!Lee know

Genre : smut,

Paring : dilf! Leeknow x babysitter!fem! Reader

Warnings : just smut...

Synopsis : After filing for divorce and solely devoting his life towards his children, he found himself falling in love after years with the new babysitter.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After filing for divorce from his previous wife and taking custody of his children, Lee know solely devoted his life into being a good father but sometimes he needs a baby sitter to take of things which he does not have enough time for.

So when you came into the spot light he had a huge weight lifted off of his back, at first he didn't talk too much, observing you from afar but seeing how best you go along with his kids, you were perfect for his kids.

The way you keep on playing with each of them even though they make you tired and exhausted, the way you sometimes scold them like their your own kids, the way you entertain them, the way you never leave them out of your sight.

Your first actual interaction happened when you asked him if you could take them to the nearby park.

" Do you think you can you think you can watch all of them, won't they get lost?"

" No, I've been babysitting for a long time, it never happens, besides I see your children are really decent." you made him flutter for the first time, his ears turned red.

From the onwards he started to notice your decency and politeness, you were so gentle and child friendly but he also started to notice the curves and edges of your body,

You were so young, your body was snatched, skinny yet curvy, your hair was wavy and your collarbone looked so prominent, your huge eyes had sparks and your lips held a smile he engraved in his mind.

It was the first time he thought of loving someone again after years. He got closer to you, like a good friend. But getting closer to made him realize that it wasn't just sexual attraction, maybe he actually wanted to marry you and make you bare his children.

He wondered how pretty or handsome his son or daughter would look like with both of yours genes. Would be the best looking child he could ever imagine.

But was this attraction mutual? He had to find out.

It was Saturday night and you were about to head home after finally putting his kids to sleep, you decided to stay a bit longer for him to return home so nothing would happen. Mean while you saw his three cats, you gave them some food before getting up.

" Mr. Lee, you're back! I just put the kids to sleep."

" well won't you have dinner? It's very late, you look exhausted, it's my pleasure."

he sat you down to eat, he was a great cook, the smell of this dinner wafted into your lungs like scenting a memory again, he served wine in front of you, but who could deny such an offer.

Later you were turning a bit dizzy, the wine was starting to kick in.

" You look drunk, why don't you stay here for the night?"

A smirk lid up on his face

There he was shoving his dick balls deep inside your cunt almost ripping your cunt apart, thrusting so hard and suddenly pulling out.

You were so dazed that you couldn't make out any words. You pushed your hip back wards for him to push his dick in again.

" Ah so you want this? Why don't you say it? What is it that you want?"

" y-your dick please."

" whose dick?"

What did he want you to say?

" Mr. Lee?" your voice was muffled by the pillow under your head.

And he pounded into you again.

" Fuck walls so tight, better than what I could imagine. Heck, won't you let me fill you up with my babies? You can bare my babies?"

You were too young to be thinking about this but he made it sound so tempting and it made you want to give him hundreds of more.

You nodded rapidly.

Now it was clear that you too have been fantasizing about this rich dilf, wanting him to bury his cock deep inside and fill you up with his babies.

And there he came crashing with the hardest orgasm thinking about you, white loads painted your walls white and there was no doubt he got you pregnant.

" You do love me, right?"

" I've loved you since the day I saw you."

#kpop #Straykids #Straykids Lee know #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know smut #Lee Minho smut #Lee minho #straykids x reader #Stray kids #Skz #Skz Lee know #Smut

[apomaro-mellow]

King&Prince 4

"Hey Eddie, what happens if you stick a finger up someone's ass?", Dustin asked.

Eddie choked on nothing and looked up from the map he'd been studying. He cleared his throat and flailed his hands at his young ward.

"The fuck Henderson?"

"I asked Steve about it once but he said he wouldn't tell me yet."

"Steve?!" Eddie got up while slamming his hands down. "As in the prince? As in the one I have locked away in the dungeon as we speak?"

"Yeah", Dustin replied, unbothered by the shadows shifting behind Eddie as his hair began to stand on end.

"I will say this in the simplest terms I can. Stay. Away. From Harrington."

Dustin put down the anatomy book he'd been reading. "But he's not dangerous. At least not while he's caged up. He's got pretty decent knowledge of how to hurt someone though."

"Oh I'm sure. He comes from a long line of people who live to hurt." Eddie moved from behind his desk, leaving the map behind. The fireplace was burning bright, the sun had set long ago and Eddie should have sent Dustin to bed by now, but he liked the company. "You know what his family has done."

"I do, but it's not like he's done it. He doesn't deserve to sleep in a shit hole just because his family is a bunch of assholes", Dustin said.

"And who's to say he isn't just as much of an asshole? Apples don't fall far from trees." Eddie moved to stare into the fire. He had been studying the map of his kingdom to think of ways to move his citizens and creatures. He didn't want to displace people, nor seem like he was conceding the border, but the Harringtons weren't giving him much of a choice.

"Can't you just give him some new clothes? He's literally starting to smell."

"I want you to stay out of the dungeons. You keep it up and I'll tell your mom that you're fraternizing with the enemy."

Dustin let out an offended scoff, upset that Eddie would go as far as tattling on him. Well, he had ways around that. Curious about the royal hostage, Dustin had intercepted the servant going to give him his meal and took over that task. But since Eddie told him he couldn't go anymore, Dustin got someone else instead.

Mike had to be bribed with a book, but he went and asked Steve what was worse, internal bleeding or dying of infection.

"Are you one of Dustin's friends?"

"Just answer the question so I can get outta here", Mike sighed.

"I'm not a doctor. I don't know which is worse. But infection is definitely more gross", Steve said. "Especially if it's on your-"

"On your what?", Mike pressed.

Steve considered how much of a pest Dustin was when he didn't get a straight answer and decided that having a conversation partner so he told Mike what he knew about infections while eating. Mike's jaw never left the floor.

"Eddie was wrong about you. You're so-!" Mike stopped short when Steve looked up at him. "You're uh, you're fine, I guess. Do you know a lot about gross stuff like that?"

"I don't know about a lot. I know a thing or two", Steve shrugged. That name came up again, Eddie. Steve was almost interested enough to ask about him but figured he was probably just someone else in the castle that hung out with these kids. And apparently he was someone they looked up to.

From then on, he had a rotation of visitors to bring him food. Dustin was still around, and he'd met Mike. But now there was also Lucas, who mostly asked about the fighting techniques Steve knew about. He also met Will, who usually came with a list of questions Dustin had but also asked about his kingdom in general. Something about the whole thing caught Steve off guard and he asked Dustin the next time he saw him.

"Does your king only employ children?"

"What? No, we don't get paid, but we should", Dustin rolled his eyes as he slid the food over. "We just live here. Lucas and Mike wanna be squires. And I-"

"Where are all the monsters?", Steve asked.

"You probably mean the demobeasts. They live outside, you know, like most animals." Dustin looked at him like he was stupid. It was a common expression on his face.

"They're not like, crawling around?", Steve hadn't even seen so much as a rat, even here in his cell.

"It's not a wild house", Dustin crossed his arms. "I brought one demodog into the castle and Eddie lost it just because it tore up some scrolls."

"You and this Eddie guy hang out a lot? How come you've never sent him down here?", Steve asked.

"He's pretty busy. Plus, he doesn't like you that much."

Steve didn't need to ask why. He was an enemy prince, after all. So far, only Dustin and his friends had shown him anything resembling kindness. Just a day ago, someone had been sent to 'clean' him. Which was really just tossing a bucket of cold water at him. And even those that knew him beyond his status weren't so loving and warm. It was why Steve wasn't surprised that his family had yet to burst through the doors to save him.

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

Alric had known long before he got a letter that his son had been taken and by whom. Steve's escorting party had returned much sooner than planned. Many of them injured, but none dead. They had reported to their king the events and just who was responsible. Still, Alric waited for the official word, just to see what that devil of a king wanted in exchange for his son.

It turned out to be a call to end his aggression and enter a truce. A call to discuss the details of the truce more in person. To sit at the same table as equals and figure out how to live harmoniously as neighbors.

He threw the letter into the fire.

Such terms were unthinkable, as was sending a reply of any kind. Alric would allow his silence to do the talking.

When it went on week three without any sort of word, Eddie called his council to discuss.

"What does it mean when a king doesn't care about his prince?", Eddie had asked.

"It's got to be a ploy", Nancy said. "He wouldn't abandon his only son."

"Unless he was some sort of disgrace", Jeff said. "But then again, something like that would have hit the rumor mill already."

"How can a prince be disgraced? They get away with everything", Robin commented.

Eddie was pacing around the table in the council room. "The point is, dear old dad doesn't seem to bothered with this. It's almost like he wants to be rid of him."

"So what do we do?", Jeff asked.

"We need a clearer picture", Nancy said.

"Clearer picture...", Eddie mused, pausing in his pacing. Then he let out a very loud, every exaggerated groan while bending so far backwards his head almost touched the floor. "Time to visit my favorite hostage."

Part 6

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #the party

[creedslove]

Oh, Mari, help! I need a living heater in the form of Joel. It's been damn cold in my country, it's 11 degrees (it was 27 a week ago). And my furnace broke down (so my radiators are cold) and the repair guy won't come until Saturday 😭

Also, this song gave me "Heartless" vibes today: Stephen Sanchez - Until I Found You

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: aww baby, I know this ask is a few months old now but I hope things are alright for you! We are also dealing with drastic temperature change, I mean a week ago it was more than 30° but today the max temperature is like 17° so I could definitely use Joel to keep me warm too 😭🫦

• Winters during the outbreak are possibly one of the worst and most depressing things mankind had ever faced, lacking sources of heat, electricity and basic things such as warm clothes, decent blankets and hot water, surviving that weather became one of the many other things someone would need to survive in that world

• no matter if you lived in a QZ, or if you were on the run over the long abandoned roads, winter was hard and that was the time people usually drank the most in order to keep themselves warm and numb to how bad things were

• and even if everything was terrible, you were still so lucky you had Joel, because that man would do anything he could in order to protect you from any danger and of course, from the cold weather as well

• if we are talking about the time you live in the QZ, he would use his smuggling skills in order to offer you the best he can find: jackets, coats, sweaters, blankets, booze, anything really

• and of course you will both snuggle so close in bed, it's funny how Joel is the little spoon even if he's bigger, but he can switch positions whenever you need his body sheltering you

• fucking to keep warm is also a possibility you both really enjoy

• when you guys escape the QZ, he knows nights out in the open are also cold, even if it isn't the winter, and you can't take space in your backpack to carry big, thick blankets, so you will both have to handle sleeping bags

• Joel would always make sure to find shelter and start a fire, so you can spend some time as warm and cozy as possible and of course you would both cuddle so you wouldn't lose heat

• when you get to Jackson, you can barely believe there is such a place, where you can actually have lights on, warm baths and decent, comfortable beds

• while you are both in awe, after eating a proper meal for the first time in months, you decide to share a hot shower together; you could've done it separately, but you are doing it together, because you want to have feeling of running your hands through Joel's skin, the warm water pouring over the two of you, as you both soap and shampoo each other

• then, after changing into new, clean and warm clothes, you go to bed; now there's a heating system in the house that actually works, you won't have to feel that excruciating, painful cold wind that seems to reach your bones, but you will still both hold each other at night, as if your lives depended on it, because deep inside, you know it's not just to keep warm you slept like that

• Joel buries his face into the crook of your neck and pulls you closer, his hand holding your hips and stroking your skin up and down, he's able to sleep peacefully, knowing he can finally offer you the protection you need and that you'll be safe in his arms

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

[shankschewtoy]

Yo Evou!! I hath returned, my idea for this time is;

How would the monster trio, and whoever else you would like to add, react to you staying up for around 48 hours?

Basically we’re all sleep deprived, so our judgement is impaired and you get more clumsy and all that. And basic tasks become harder too.

(I’m doing it right now, so if there’s spelling/grammar mistakes, that’s why 😉😉)

Here’s a pic of my dog btw, his name is Shanks funnily enough!

Anyways take care of yourself!! 💟💟💟

a/n - your dog is absolutely ADORABLE 😭💜💜 important question tho- (is he missing an arm?)

Warnings ⚠️ - crack, g/n reader

- oh he can stay awake for literally forever because- well- he’s Luffy 💀 but he’s not normal ok? So when you stay up it’s a whole different story

- it’s hour 48, and you were way past the point of drinking tea or coffee. The dark circles under your eyes were that of Law’s, no- probably worse 💀

- you could barely keep your eyes open, and holy shit going down the stairs was dangerous asf 😭 i pray for your safety

- “Hey y/n!!! Can you make me one of sanji’s sandwiches from yesterday? I’m soooo hungry :)”

- the way you turned around and even Luffy was shocked, (you looked like pre-timeskip law college drunk, missing an assignment, drank 10 cups of coffee law)

- “WHOA-! Uh- y/n…. Are you ok?”

- “yeah mhm! Totallyyyyyy fine 👍”

- no you’re not fine.

- you looked in the fridge to see a couple extra sandwiches, and you tried to reach inside and grab it. But your depth perception was so off that you were I think a foot away from grabbing it 💀

- luffy was a saint, waiting as patiently as he could as he watched you struggle and fall asleep a couple times as you tried to grab a sandwich

- when you finally grabbed it, cutting open the paper wrapping was going to be…. A rollercoaster-

- grabbing the scissors, you literally almost sliced one of your fingers off multiple times, you had Luffy looking like this right in front of you

- man is scared for your safety. But he still let you struggle until you finally got it 😭 when you slowly handed it to him, he made you sit down and eat the sandwich

- man was literally trying to shove it all in your mouth because he thought you were just low on meat (he thinks it’s meat itself is a vitamin)

- “Y/n! Open your mouth wider!”

- *snoring*

- “DON’T FALL ASLEEP WHILE EATING I HAVEN’T TAUGHT YOU HOW TO DO THAT YET!”

- in the end, nami slapped him and made him go help you upstairs to get some much needed rest, and Luffy hugs along with it :)

- the fact that you can stay up that long is amazing to this man, and without a single nap? Damn that’s admirable 😂

- staying up for that long comes with consequences though, and they were hitting… HARD.

- “Y/n where did you go?” -zoro

- you were in front of him the whole time he just got lost and went the other way 💀

- “here..”

- you were on top of the stairs, slowly making your way down, taking wobbly steps and barely being able to hold onto the rails

- he could see that you were about to fall but the dude was just confused as to why you looked like you hadn’t slept in years

- sure enough, you skipped a step and started to fall down, skidding down the wooden steps as zoro stared like an idiot

- didn’t even catch you 💀💀💀💀 what a loser (jk)

- you fell asleep immediately after you fell in front of him, and man was so confused

- “Are you sleeping?”

- no y/n’s not sleeping, WHAT DO YOU THINK FUCKING MOSSHEAD???

- started poking you and literally trying to check if you were sleeping or not 💀 but don’t worry! He actually carried you to bed and just watched over you, even put the covers over you too 👍

- took the day off from training to make sure you were ok- because you scared the mosshead

- if there’s a time Sanji has even let you stay up this long it’s this time- this guy KNOWS mental health and sleep is super important. He’d totally make you sleep at a decent time

- but this was an exception, you had a ton of stuff to do around the thousand sunny, and the fights seemed to never end on the island you went to with nami

- when you got back oh god you looked terrible 😭 disheveled to say the least

- you were dying. Dying

- “Y/n! Welcome ba-“ HORSE WHEEZING GASP

- man had a heart attack, those dark circles sent him to the all blue and back 💀💀💀

- wasted no time in forcing you to drink water and do all your tasks for you, don’t worry, pervy cook’s on it 💪

- “Y/n, do you need some more tea? I’ll go and buy more of your favorite!”

- “Sanji- that island is… hell”

- “I would gladly go to hell for you my love”

- everyone needs someone like Sanji 💜

a/n - love anime’s ideas because I’m laughing as I’m writing them like an idiot

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro #zoro headcanons #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x you #zoro op #op zoro #one piece zoro #luffy x you #Luffy #luffy x reader #straw hat luffy #luffy headcanons #monkey d luffy #one piece luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy x y/n #zoro x y/n #luffy op #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji fluff #sanji op #sanji

[rauberrauber]

line up baby

wanted to make a sort of ref for everyone so i can keep track of everyone's designs, heights, etc

side hcs below cuz i wanna ramble lol

fyi any links are just for pictures to help visualize what im trying to say

also add to these with ur own i love reading hcs :]

general:

the sides work with a kind of cartoon logic (kinda like who framed Roger rabbit) which is what their shape shifting and such is, they can survive pretty much everything, dont bend to reality type thing

i also dig playing around with the idea that they just arent human, they dont need to eat, sleep, even breathe or blink if they dont wanna. They just play more human around thomas so they dont freak him out (everyone but remus at least, dude doesnt give a fuck lol) they all have their priorities regarding that kinda stuff. like logan doesnt eat or sleep almost at all (there r exceptions tho obvi (crofters))  while patton rly likes to cook and bake so why not eat the stuff you make? meanwhile remus eats literally anything he can find

they can also float if they wanna, same thing where they just dont around thomas. this came about me just imagining remus consistently floating around in the mindscape instead of walking for whatever reason? so yeah they can do that

theres a core mindscape and a ‘dark’ mindscape, that sorta works like the upside down from stranger things (as in the dark mindscape is like literally upside down and mirrors everything, like this)

everyones also got their own unique doors to their rooms. logans is very sleek and modern, pattons in more childlike and almost vintage, romans resemble castle doors while remus’ is more like a dungeons, virgils is typically angsty teenager with tons of posters and ‘keep out’ signs, and janus has tons of locks on his

design wise the core sides have straight teeth and fluffier hair while the dark sides have sharp teeth and rougher(?) hair (since changing, virgil has vampire-esque fangs)

logan:

square rimmed glasses

loves the rain

unintentionally fidgets with his clothes, always adjusting his glasses or rolling his sleeves up and down or messing with the buttons or his tie

playing more into the whole ‘sides dont have to eat thing’ he finds food kinda nasty lol, again only rly eats stuff thats very good to him (ultimate picky eater basically) patton has tried and failed many times to get logan to try and like new foods

roman was the one who got him to try crofters

watches those long ass video essays about random topics on youtube for background noise

patton:

round glasses and heart eyes

has roller blades/skates! specifically these ones that retract the wheels. good way of getting energy out (even if hes super clumsy with them)

tallest + dad bod

tons of bandages, kinda playing around with the phrase ‘broken heart’

him and janus play video games together (both of them are terrible lol)

definitely listens to dad rock/dad music

roman:

starry eyes!

crown can float on its own (same w/ remus’)

has one of these couches in his room to dramatically faint onto

him and remus dont share a room, but they have a sort of portal to each others rooms if that makes sense. a big mirror but instead of reflecting, its showing into the other room and only the twins can go thru

wants to be his own side after the split

roman and remus pierced each others ears when they were younger

virgil:

decently tall but slouches a lot which hides it (slouching hes shorter than the twins but still taller than janus) also rarely stands or sits straight at all so it kinda shocked the core sides when he showed them how tall he rly was (queue roman being mad cuz hes actually the shortest of the main four lol)

has stereotypical emo hair and still has some purple dye in it

hot topic skeleton fingerless gloves and muddy sneakers (idk why it just feels right)

tons of random bruises

draws his nails black with sharpie

listens to metal music to calm down. remus got him into a lot of numetal, screamo kinda music when virgil was still one of the others, it was one of the few times theyd hang out and virgil wasnt 100% freaked out by remus

definitely experimented with scene fashion when thomas was a teenager

drinks tons of energy drinks

janus:

shortest ha

yellow eyes

bow wrapped on his hat

long flowy cape and heeled shoes with spats (thats what theyre called right?)

uses the staff from pof as a walking cane

speaks fluent pig latin, remus and logan are the only ones who can somewhat understand what he says (remus cuz hes been around janus so long, and logan wanting to research and understand whatever the hell janus is saying) it also has always drove virgil up the wall cuz hes never been able to get it, janus will start speaking it just to annoy him

only rly relaxes when by himself, always kinda putting on a mask with the others and thomas, regardless of how trustworthy he considers them

constantly coming up with proper plans and schemes, typically wouldnt let remus near them with a 10 foot pole (affectionately)

knows how to lockpick

scared of the ocean

remus: 

broken crown

eyes can go all crazy, pupils can be different sizes and such (there was a cartoon that did this where the eyes would go red and have a ton of rings around the pupils like spirals kinda? i cant find a pic of what im rly visualizing rip i hope that makes sense)

ton of rings (one of em is an eyeball ring)

is like half an inch taller than roman and will never let him live it down

enjoys all the ‘bad’ disney/pixar movies. (cars, home on the range, etc) and like unironically enjoys them. prolly started ironically to mess with roman but he genuinely find those ones the best and cant fathom why theyre disliked (totally not self-indulgent cuz some of those movies are my favorites)

comes up with random weird plans and ropes janus into them whenever possible, janus plays along best he can

somewhat wants to fuse back with roman (even if hes unsure why)

remus and virge used to make fun of roman together all the time

remus is the one who gave virge his septum and gages

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides headcanon #ts #tss #logic sanders #morality sanders #creativity sanders #creativitwins #anxiety sanders #deceit sanders #weapon tw #food mention #ask to tag

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 7

Find the series masterlist

Ace gets in over her head. Fortunately, Laswell knows someone who can help.

Warnings: Blood, injury (relatively minor), death of a minor character, so much spy shit, the plot thickens, Price is not very nice this chapter. 

Word count:  3k

Your flight landed in Ireland, and you had to check your phone twice. Once to check the time (you’d gone through multiple time zones in the last week) and once to confirm the location. 

You really needed a good night’s sleep, soon. You were beginning to feel stretched too thin. Maybe you’d take this info in person to Kate, crash at her place for a week. 

You arrived at the meeting place early, settling in and getting something to eat. You kept a casual eye out around you - it all just looked like locals gathering after a day of work. The gentle chatter was soothing in its own way. 

A man stood at your table, looking nervous and fidgety. “How do you like the view?” he asked, speaking carefully. He even sounded a little stilted. Hopefully you’d never run into him again. 

“The green does my soul good,” you responded the other half of the code, much more normally. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?” 

He sat and immediately ordered a beer. You frowned, just a little, but complied. So long as he remained sober and talking, you wouldn’t begrudge him a little something to take the edge off. 

You were careful not to put your notebook on the table where it could be seen, but you did hit record on your phone. You’d transfer the recording to a USB later - for now, this was the easiest way to get the information down fast. 

“You know someone in the group?” you asked quietly, gently leading. 

“Aye,” he agreed softly. “My cousin. He was the decent sort, but he got into some weird shit, ya know? And then…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Dunno how he got mixed up in all of this, but he keeps saying that the new world order is coming, shite like that. Crazy shite.” 

You nodded, hoping you looked appropriately sympathetic rather than just eager. “I see. What do you know of their plans?” 

“Not much,” he admitted, wringing his hands together. When his beer arrived, he downed nearly half of it in one go. “I know they are planning stuff, right? But he’s not allowed to tell me stuff, could get him killed to tell me too much.”

You hummed your understanding, watching him carefully. He was too nervous to be lying to you. If you had to guess, he was nervous about getting caught. “What else can you tell me?” 

You sat and listened patiently for the next forty-five minutes as he went on a ramble, a mixture of propaganda you figured the Russians used, a few oblique references to Al-Qatala, how much he missed his cousin, and how he was nervous to talk to people now. Honestly, it was a bit headache inducing. 

You weren’t sure you’d exactly call this the font of information you had been hoping for… but it was better than nothing. So you slipped the man cash and stood to leave.

“Can I walk you anywhere?” he offered, cheeks pinked from the second beer. 

“No,” you refused gently. “Thank you. It’s better if we go our separate ways and don’t speak again.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” He bobbled a little, awkward and uncertain. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” You couldn’t help but smile a little. Aw. Darling. You turned to leave, deciding to head back to your hotel to transcribe the information before taking it back to Laswell. 

A thump from behind you made you still, heart slamming into overdrive as all your hair stood on end. One look back confirmed what you had feared. 

He was dead, slumped to the ground. 

The first scream came from the pub the two of you had just left, and you dove for cover behind a car. A bullet pinged into the brick behind you, where you had been a moment before. 

You were in fucking trouble now. 

Hands shaking, you looked back at the pub to see several people on their phones, likely phoning the cops. Another bullet hit the car you were hidden behind. 

You could stay and hope the car provided good enough cover until the police arrived. 

Or you could make a dash for it and get the hell out. 

Swallowing, you reached into your bag, grabbing the beanie you weren’t using. Quick investigation showed that ahead of you was another car, a line of them going down the street to provide some cover. The opposite direction had no cover but quickly turned into an alley behind the building. 

Taking your chances, you tossed the beanie towards the next car, making sure it would be visible from above. And you booked it in the opposite direction, ignoring the bullets behind you. You rounded the corner and could have cried with relief. As you suspected, there was a back door into the pub. You yanked it open and ran through, ignoring the yells of the kitchen staff, getting to the side entrance you’d found earlier. 

From there, it was a matter of making as many turns as possible, hoping that the sniper was bogged down by equipment and hampered by line of sight. Any time you could, you went through a building. That got you yelled at more than once, but you ignored every person. 

After an hour of this, you felt confident enough that the sniper wasn’t going to snipe you immediately to pull out your phone. You were panting, shaking, rattled. 

“Laswell,” you gasped, looking around furtively. “I need an immediate drop point.”

“What’s going on?” she demanded, short and tense.

“Got in over my head.” You sucked in another deep breath. Now that the adrenaline was fading, you hurt. Actually, your side hurt more than you should, and you looked down. Blood had stained the front and side of your shirt. “Oh fuck.”

“What now?” She sounded calmer than you, at least.

“Uh. Might’ve got shot. A little bit.” You lifted your shirt carefully, looking at the wound. “Just a graze. Not really bleeding anymore.”

“You need to get that taken care of, before you lose more blood,” Laswell ordered.

“Yes, thank you, I do–fuck!--do realize that.” You swallowed hard, poking very carefully around the edges. “Nothing broken, no major damage. That was… Goddamn that was close.” 

“You are going to explain everything to me,” Laswell ordered. “Now.”

“Not my boss,” you grumbled, even as you looked around again, this time looking for directions. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, hiding the blood. “Followed some intel on some Russians, got shot at, need to drop the info.”

Laswell sighed deeply. You hadn’t heard that particular sigh in… years. “Alright. I’ll send you coordinates. They might not be happy to see you.”

“They?” 

“Captain and his team.”

“Oh, well, no problem.” You huffed a little laugh, walking quickly now and sticking to populated areas. “Pretty sure he likes me.”

Laswell huffed an almost-laugh. “Just stay safe.”

“Will do.” You hung up on her, focusing on getting to your hotel. You needed to bug out. Immediately. But you also needed to dress this damn wound and change clothes. 

Fortunately, Laswell was as good as her word, and got you the directions to the drop point. Along with a reminder to stay safe. 

You didn’t reply, busy putting some bandages over the graze. Which hurt like blazes. Then you put gauze over the whole thing and taped it down.

That would just have to hold you until you could get to an actual medical professional. Preferably one you could pay under the table. 

It was a short flight down to London, and you didn’t stop. As soon as you were off the plane, you were gone again, making your way through the city to the drop off point. 

By this point, you weren’t sure how long you’d been awake, or how much blood you’d lost. More than you were comfortable with, apparently. 

Hopefully you could throw the notebook tucked under your shirt and the USB on your necklace at him and then call it a day. 

You made it to the drop off and paused in the street. This was… not the greatest neighborhood. Half the street lights were out, many windows were dark. Honestly, it set your nerves on edge. 

“Keep walking,” someone behind you grunted, right before something hard jammed into your back, against your spine. “Captain’s waiting.” 

You swallowed, not quite brave enough to look behind you, and started walking. The door ahead of you opened, revealing Captain, looking much the same as ever. He nodded once and stepped aside while the man behind you nudged you inside. Captain took the lead from there, walking down a set of stairs into a basement, and from there through a door and down a hallway. Vaguely, you realized this must have been a hidden entrance to a base of some kind, because you walked much too far to still be in the same neighborhood. 

At least there were lights placed regularly in the ceiling, all in working order. 

Captain pulled another door open and motioned you first. You went up the stairs perhaps a little more slowly than you needed to, but you were tired and in pain and confused. You figured you could be forgiven. 

At the top of the stairs, the man behind you moved up to take the lead momentarily. All you saw of him was that he was wearing all black, was an absolute mountain of a man, and had a full on mask over his head. 

But he opened a door and motioned you in with the gun. So in you went, Captain behind you. The masked man closed the door with a soft click. 

“Really, Captain?” You huffed as you were more or less pushed down into the single chair in the room. “Is this how you treat all your guests?”

“Is that what you are?” Captain loomed over you, blank-faced, hands tucked into the neck of his tactical vest. “A guest?”

“What else would you call someone bringing gifts?” You spread your hands out, tipping your head up to look at him.

“A spy.” That came from the masked one, still behind you. 

You sighed. “Captain,” you murmured. “Still no trust after all this time? I’m hurt. Absolutely hurt.” You pressed a hand over your head, the drama covering up the very real pain. 

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You know, Laswell told me about you.”

“All awful things, I’m sure.” You kept your gaze on him as he took three steps over to the table. (Which you hadn’t even noticed, too busy being drawn into Captain’s gaze. Sloppy.) 

“Not all.” He didn’t look at you as he picked up a file. “You’re not the only one capable of gathering intel.” 

You blinked as he held out the file to you. You took it carefully, opening it. Your own face stared back at you, a still from an info drop. You leafed through it slowly, looking at the pictures inside. You sitting at dinner with Sergio. You playing with Sergio’s girls. You on the phone with someone, cool and collected. You getting off the plane in Mexico, being picked up by Valeria’s men.

“And all of this is…?” You trailed off leadingly, closing the folder gently.

“Evidence.”

“Against me.” You held out the folder for him to take, heart plummeting. This was bad. This was potentially every bit as bad as the sniper you’d escaped in Ireland. 

“Laswell thinks you’re not in on all of this.” Captain took the folder and tossed it back on the table. “I disagree. I think you’ve been in bed with the enemy for a while now.”

You drew in a slow breath. So. That was his play here. Honest hurt clenched in your chest, dragged against your lungs. Only sheer bloody-mindedness kept you breathing normally. 

“Well.” You licked your lips. “It sounds like you’ve made up your mind about me.”

His eyes narrowed at you. Neither of you spoke for several moments.

“Not even going to defend yourself?”

Your smile was definitely sad at this point, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You were tired. You hurt. You ached. All you’d wanted was a smooth drop off. Not this. “In my experience, there won’t be anything I can say to make you believe me. I could tell you my rules, but I suspect Laswell already has. I could remind you that I saved that young man’s life, but you doubtless took that into account. A conscious ploy on my part, perhaps. A way to get you to trust me.” You breathed in slowly. “You’re a stubborn man, Captain. As I said. I can’t change your mind.” 

“You’re probably right.” He remained calm, facing you, hands once again tucked into his vest.

“I think I’d like to give you the information now, before you let your underling at me.” Your fingers did not tremble as you pulled the necklace from around your neck. The notebook had left indents against your skin by the time you wormed it out from under your shirt, and you held both items out to Captain. “Here. Take them.” 

Looking suspicious now, he took the items. “What’s this, then?” 

“Intel.” You shrugged. “Movements of a Russian terrorist group. Weapons shipments. Numbers. What of the finances I could trace. Shell companies.” You shrugged again, folding your hands together in your lap. 

He was quiet as he looked through the notebook, not reading but skimming. The masked one shifted closer to you, banked violence rolling off him like fog, thick and eager.

And then your cell phone rang.

All three of you paused, and then the masked one snatched it and tossed it to Captain. 

“Laswell,” Captain murmured, letting it ring through without answering it. But then your phone rang again, and he huffed, holding it out to you.

“Katie Kate,” you greeted, light. Nothing was wrong. Nothing to see here.

“Did you make it?” 

You blinked, surprised, and looked at Captain. “Yes.”

“Price grabbed you, didn’t he?” Laswell demanded.

“I don’t do names, Katie Kate,” you reminded her gently. 

“Give him the phone. Then tell him where you’ve been for the last 72 hours.” 

You blinked. “Not a lackey, Laswell.”

“Do it.”

You sighed but held out the phone. “She wants to talk to you, Captain.” 

He took the phone, grunting once in acknowledgement. Then he remained silent for several moments, half-turned away from you, completely silent. “Fine.” He hung up and looked back at you. “Start talking.”

“I spent the last 72 hours getting that information.” You shrugged. “I’ve got friends in arms dealing and movements, so I visited a couple of them to get some of those numbers. Then I headed up to Ireland to see another contact who knows someone in the Russian group, and let me tell you, he rambled. Then he got shot, and I spent the next hour dodging a sniper.” You blinked, going through your memory. Things got a bit fuzzy there. “Took me a few hours to get here after that, and voila.” 

“That’s not how Kate put that last part.”

You winced. Just a little. “Does it matter?”

“It does if you bled for this.” He let the necklace dangle between his fingers. 

Abruptly, you were angry. So angry. You wanted to shout at him. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to run to the far side of the planet and burn every alias you’d ever made and retire to a quiet beach. 

You wished you’d been able to actually see the sniper. 

“You’ve made up your mind about me,” you pushed, eyes narrowing, shoulders tense and tight. 

“You never defended yourself.”

“Because it doesn’t matter!” You started to rise, only to be pushed harshly back down. “It never matters!” 

Captain crouched in front of you, the line of his jaw easing. “Let me see.”

You bared your teeth at him. “Shoot me first.”

“Nah. Someone else did that already.” One big hand caught the wrist nearer him, holding you steady as his other hand pulled your shirt up enough to see the blood-stained bandages over your ribs.

“Let go of me.” Your voice had gone frigid, frame so tense you ached with it.

“Not yet, love.”

The softness in his tone had you blinking, dumbfounded. The emotional whiplash combined with the sleep deprivation and blood loss was doing absolutely wretched things to your heart. “What?” 

“Come on. Let’s get you up to medical.” He stood and pulled you up with him. Unprepared, you swayed, off-kilter. 

“I don’t…” You felt like you were lagging, blinking rapidly. 

“You’ll feel better after some sleep.” He nodded to the other man, helping you out of the room and down the hall. “You know, took me a bit to put together your passwords.”

“...What?” You blinked at him, a little bleary, stumbling through the door. 

“Enterprise. Imperial. Used Voyager before, too.” His lips twitched in something approaching a teasing smile. “Didn’t realize you were such a nerd.”

“You were testing me.” You spoke slowly, tongue thick, mind working overtime to fight through the everything: lack of sleep, lack of blood, emotional whiplash. 

Captain hummed his agreement of that, depositing you onto a cot. “Yes.”

“Why…?” You turned your gaze to him, hoping you were hiding your hurt, fairly certain you didn’t succeed.

He sighed slowly. “I’ll explain it all after you get some sleep.” He stepped back, letting a medic over. “Rest, Ace.” 

You blinked at his retreating back. You needed more intel. None of this made sense. 

It didn’t even occur to you until later that he had somehow seamlessly traveled the long path down to the soft part of your heart without permission. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he had become important to you.

And that? That hurt worse than the stitches the medic was putting in you.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

[taintedcries]

HAII !! ur valentine scenarios seem so cute and i would love 2 join !!

can i request me ‘n dazai (🤢🤮🤮🤮) going out shopping to decorate the agency office ? like they’re keeping it a secret from every1 else and plan to go to work early the next day and dazai is js bring dazai …

thank u sm in advance !! have fun <3

YOU MYSTIFY ME !

GOING SHOPPING WITH DAZAI

Going out shopping with this man is the greatest mistake you made your whole entire life, he is a menace.

He’ll go through every aisle in the store and pick out the most ridiculous valentine’s props, sometimes he’ll behave and actually pick out something good (keyword : sometimes)

“[NAME]!! Look!” He called your name out as you look over at him, dumbfounded. “What the actual fuck is that ‘Samu?”

“Hmm? Don’t you like it??” He asks as he put on the ridiculous pink hat on himself and held out those pink glasses in front of him, “No, what in the hell is that?!”

The first time he actually showed a decent prop, you cried tears of joy

“Pstt! [NAME].... I found this thing it’s super cute!” You didn’t spare him a glance as your eyes looked around the aisles selling chocolates “No, Dazai. We won’t be buying those weird stuffs you found”

“You haven’t even seen them!” He whined, you let out a long sigh as you turned to him, fully expecting him to bring you a pink bandage roll and some other weird stuffs.

“..........”

“.....”

“...........”

The silence was broken by Dazai, “Uhm.. So are we buying this or not?..” He felt nervous under your silenced gaze, fully expecting you to either deny or shout at him. “Dazai… Who the hell possessed you? Why is this actually good?”

He was shocked you thought he couldn’t pick out something nice

After shopping for some props you guys decided to just make one your own, since, all the props sold by the markets are.. Questionable.

Dazai decided to crash to your place to make the props cause apparently “your place is more comfortable than mine” according to Dazai.

“Dazai be useful and help me paint these boxes reddish pink for god’s sake.” You glared at him watching as he dangles his legs from your couch

“I am being useful! I’m cheering you on from over here~”

You threw a box (empty & small) across his face

He finally decided to help you after whining and complaining about how it hurts when you threw the box at him

He decided to be a menace once more and dipped his finger in paint and draw a line on your arm while you were busy writing something

Safe to say you guys fought for a whole fifteen minutes and was covered in paint by the time the fight was over

But anyways!

You guys finally made the props and it turned out quite decently, for some reason, but who are you to complain?

“It’s already 1:30 AM, we should go to sleep if we still want to go to the agency’s building early.” You said as you checked the time

“Wooo! I’m crashing your couch for tonight!~”

“Clean yourself up first you idiot! I don’t need my couch to be stained by pink & red paint!” You hit his head and pushed him to the bathroom

“Oww! Fine fine!”

05:30 AM

“Dazai wake the fuck up! We need to set the decorations plus props up the agency!” You whisper-shouted, he whined about waking up in the morning and regretting the plan he made himself. Honestly? Loser, who told him to come up with this?

“No one cares, quick get up and shower, you stink.”

He gasped and whine about how he doesn’t stink (he actually doesn’t but you just said it to make him go shower)

He reluctantly went into the shower anyways

You prepared some toast with scrambled eggs inside for him to eat after he gets out of the bathroom

After you guys were done, it was time for the hard task. Carrying the decorations inside the agency wasn’t hard, but the props… 

You guys argued over who was gonna carry it (you ended up carrying it anyways)

Took a while to get all of them inside, even more when you had to actually think of where to set it up! You kind of regret agreeing to decorate the agency with Dazai of all people.

“Why is it so hard to decorate a rooommm!!” Dazai whined, seriously. All he does is whine about this, why do you even like this guy again? “Shut up unless you want to be the one carrying these items to their respective locations!”

You guys got it done last minute though! Congrats!

Kunikida walked in just in time to see you choke Dazai for being annoying though..

'mmmm... sorry if this isnt up to your expectations D: ... i kind of started working on this at uhmm 11 PM-3 AM?? LMAO..

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs x reader #[足赤 ] — valentine's special

[fandomwritingbit]

Hi there cutiepie

Thought I'd jump in to request

I was thinking like Michael Afton X reader after a fighr reader sleeps on the couch (sfw)

Ofcourse if your comfy writing that!! I did read rules so I'm hoping for it to be okay. (Also reader can be either female or gender neutral I don't mind either so I'd leave it up to you to decide with what you prefer writing)

Anyways darling have a nice day and don't forget to eat (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Ee this request is cute as hell. No one's ever called me cutiepie before, got me blushing over here 😘 Thank you so much for such a lovely ask.

I hope this is alright, I can never judge if this kind of thing is actually decent lol.

Anywhooo, michael x gn reader - Sleeping on the sofa (sfw angst with fluff)

"What do you mean 'no'- it's your turn!" your boyfriend interrogated, he looked more than annoyed, mocking how you spoke the word no.

You snigger as reflex, a little taken aback at how angry he was already, you'd only just walked in the door. You let your shoulder bag slide off and on to the floor, shruging sarcastically, "Mike I called you and said I was going to be late - I've had Hell on at work - you really haven't made plans for dinner?!"

"It's your turn." He reiterates, taking his eyes off you as he realised that he probably was in the wrong, but stubbornness making him double down.

"You could have ordered something- you really expect me to cook right now?!" As you spoke, you approach your boyfriend irritated, holding your watch up for him to see, "It's half ten, Mike. Half fucking ten."

He scoffed, "So what am I-"

Keep reading

"Find something, Mike. I swear to God." you hiss. You have to walk away from him to stop this from escalating because if he keeps talking to you so entitled you're going to snap. Well, snap more than you just did.

Storming upstairs, you go in a shower which does nothing to calm you down. In fact it does the opposite, making you more heated, replaying the look of 'hard-done-by' on Michael's face. By the time you're done and hop out, you decide you can't even look at him, grabbing your pillows and a blanket off the bed.

He appears whilst you’re mid action, opening his mouth to say something but it dies in his throat when you throw him the dirtiest look he's ever seen. "Fine." he mutters, walking straight past you into the bathroom.

You make yourself a nest on the sofa downstairs, hoping Mike knows to keep away right now, and eventually fall asleep with some tv show blaring in the background.

~

Laid in your usually shared bed upstairs, Michael tosses and turns. He felt guilty. Which he supposed was just, really. You had a long day and he didn’t even ask you how it was, just went off on you, took his stress out on you. And now the hunger-fueled anger had subsided, he was sober to that and the guilt wouldn’t let him drift off. 

So he got up, didn’t bother putting a shirt on and went downstairs as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb your sleeping form snuggled on the sofa. But seeing you there, you looked so sweet, your brows not furrowed like they had been earlier, your mouth not pressed into that tired hard line, he smiled a little just at the view before going into the kitchen and getting a glass of water. 

You woke up to the tap running in the adjacent room, the sound obnoxiously loud in the quiet of the house, you peer over your blanket waiting for him to walk back in, “Really? I was-” you start, but he puts his hands up in surrender, one holding the glass. 

“Look I’m sorry... About waking you up but also… earlier, I don’t know why I-” 

 You cut him off, sitting up to talk properly.“You were being a prick, Mike.” It was hard to keep your tone as mean as you wanted it at seeing the sheepish look on his face. 

“I know, sorry.” 

You crack, his apologetic voice working. And so, you scooch back on the cushions, making some room for him and lifting up the blanket for him to get in. Instead he scoops you and all your belongings off the piece of furniture, somehow making it look easy, and bundles you in his arms. 

You giggle, his arms tickling you. Though to be honest you’re glad to not be arguing anymore, even more glad to be able to sleep in your own bed.

#fnaf #fnaf michael afton #michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #michael afton fluff

[foli-vora]

run to you: chapter four

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: thank you for being patient! shit is hectic in the brain right now, but fuck real life amiright? feels good to write again and to come back to these two. not a whole lot of marcus this chap, or a particularly long one, but it's all about the story building or something like that lmao. i still haven't updated my taglists so i apologise for that. if you've previously requested to be added for this story, please do so again via whatever coz my mind is all over the place and i'll forget to check the previous chapters. enjoy angels! x

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and 'You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: the usual... angst, swearing, reader is a stresshead, golden retriever fbi agent who is bestie material, talk of lies/deception, brief talk of being arrested, flashbacks and the usual bitter saltiness one man brings to life in us

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

The sound of water running fills the empty silence of the bathroom, steam eventually swirling up from the spray and crawling along your ceiling. You pick at the paint dried onto the skin of your fingers as you wait, exhaustion creeping along the edges of your mind with an urge to pull you under.

It’s not as if the work had been hard, in fact, you had relished in the familiar buzz of music and paint strokes. It felt refreshing, despite having a number of works to get started on. So much of your time now consisted of working to pay the bills you only just managed to keep on top of, so there was little opportunity to enjoy your creative side.

No, the stress of the art had been lovely, the whole mental gymnastics and whirlwind of emotions because of him though?

Draining.

You hope Marcus won’t make a habit of waltzing in and screwing up your day. What did he even achieve coming in to get rid of Jacob? What was the purpose of his visit? Surely not to just get you to eat. There had to be some kind of ulterior motive here.

He’s a federal agent—of course there’s a hidden agenda somewhere. 

Well you won’t fall for it. Any of it. Not again.

You would remain on your high guard around him until you finished with whatever they needed from you and then all ties would be cut. You would keep communications curt and simple—there’s no need for unnecessary small talk and chit chat. You’re here to work, and that’s it. Hopefully, it will all be over soon and you can really put it all behind you for good.

The car ride had been spent in complete silence. Your eyes didn’t waver from looking out the passenger door window, and Marcus made no effort to break the uncomfortable energy lingering in the vehicle.

You didn’t even look at him when he eventually pulled to a slow stop outside your building, barely waiting for the car to stop completely before you pushed the door open and slammed it harshly behind you.

He didn’t leave until you disappeared into your building.

The anger still lingers, even after a somewhat decent heavy sleep.

He had deceived and tricked you, again. You had briefly trusted his word, believed his empty promise, and for what? It was all bullshit. Again. It’d been a mistake. It’s all a game to him—lies are all he knows. He seemingly lies as easy as he breathes, for it all to come so naturally.

What else is he lying about, giggling with his little agent friends? Is Jacob in on it all? He seemed friendly and decent enough, and happily kept out of your way when you asked him to give you space the day before, but then again, he wouldn’t be the first man to lure you into a sense of comfort as a ruse.

To hell with all of them.

You won’t be laughed at, not again, not this time.

This time, you were on to them. This time, there was no hiding behind a pretty face, fake ID and false backstory. You wouldn’t give them—any of them—the satisfaction of watching you fall again. Marcus, Jacob, the rest of the team—they won’t break you.

—

Agent Wilson is promptly on time as expected, noticeably upbeat and bouncy, standing just outside of your door in a freshly ironed dark suit and navy blue tie, holding out a carry tray of various drinks that you try not to react to.

It’s all fake—the kindness.

It’s a lie.

“Morning, Picasso!” He grins, “I wasn’t too sure what you’re into, so I grabbed a few choices: cappuccino, tea—English Breakfast, I think?, Chai Latte and a chocolate Frappuccino with extra cream. Although, I’ve kinda been eyeing the frappe on my way here, so don’t break my heart.”

You study the selection carefully before letting your eyes roll back up to meet his bright green ones, careful to keep your face blank of any and all emotion.

“I don’t want anything—I’m not thirsty.”

He blinks at your hard tone, clearly taken aback.

You try to keep a hold of the slight twinge of guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach, carefully schooling your expression into something firmer, unbothered.

“Oh, okay. That’s cool, guess that extra cream is mine, then!”

The small slither of guilt grows at the slight look of dejection that passes over his face despite the force of the smile curling his lips, but you don’t dwell on it.

He’s one of them.

You had made sure to be ready for his knock earlier that morning, so you simply step out of your apartment with your bag over your shoulder and lock the door securely behind you, shutting him out from your space and keeping him from prying into your surroundings like he had done the day before.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No. I’ve got it.”

“Okay then,” he murmurs, clearing his throat softly and turning to head to the elevator. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.”

Silence follows your sharp response, and Wilson takes it as a clue to stay quiet for the rest of the trip to his car. He disposes of the drinks in a nearby trash can and the guilt doubles.

He’d gone to the effort of grabbing you a beverage, probably left his home early to ensure he could do so… maybe you should’ve just accepted one to keep the peace.

You slide into the car and buckle up, staring at the early morning events unfolding outside the windscreen as he slides in beside you and starts up the car.

It doesn’t move however, and you look to him in question, only to find him already staring expectantly at you.

A small wall of defence builds at his gaze, and you start to wonder if now will be the time he uses his authority over you and reminds you of your lowly position in this case. Maybe he’ll tell you that he knows everything, that you deserved everything you got—

“Are you pissed at me for leaving you with Pike?” He asks, and you can’t help the brief flicker of surprise. Okay, maybe not. “Look, I’m sorry—I thought he would’ve cleared it with you, but if you want, I can make sure it doesn’t happen again. I mean, I don’t have much say, but if you’re that uncomfortable I’m sure I can talk to someone—”

He’d do that? For you? You desperately try to come up with a reason why he would even bother. He’d gain nothing from it, the team wouldn’t either. What’s his play? Where’s the catch here?

Maybe there isn't one. 

A part of you refuses to believe that. The part that had been beaten and broken and had its trust torn to fucking shreds. He’s a federal agent, and they think of only themselves and their team. You aren’t a part of the team. You’re an outsider, a criminal. You’re nothing to them. 

Maybe he just genuinely wants to help.

Maybe. Maybe.

You sigh softly, and shake your head.

“No, it’s… it’s fine. I’m sorry, it’s not you. I guess I just… I’m just not feeling great about this whole thing. I’ll cut back on the bitchiness.”

He shrugs it off, another smile coming easily to his lips.

“Hey, if you’ve got history then it’s understandable. Just talk to me, okay? Let me know what you want. I’m here for you, it’s my job to keep you safe and happy, and if fighting my boss is what I’ve gotta do then so be it.”

You can’t help the pull of your lips at the mere image of it in your mind.

“You’ll fight him for me?”

He scoffs lightly, “Absolutely—I can take him. Just say the word, Dalí. I’ve got your back, clear?”

“Clear,” you reply softly. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m just not used to any of this. I uh… I don’t trust people very easily, and I’m having some difficulty adjusting to all of this.”

Understatement. It’s all a massive pain in the ass and exhausting.

“Yeah, I get it,” he replies, smiling comfortingly at you before pulling out onto the road and reaching for his drink, “but just know that I’m on your side here, okay?”

You nod quietly, not wanting to speak any more about it with someone who could be potentially relaying everything you say back to his team. Maybe they will take you down once this case is over, using the soon to be mountain of evidence as proof you’ve returned to less than legal painting activities. They’ll put you in for longer this time.

Shit, this is such a bad idea. You should’ve kept the fucking door shut the day Special Agent Pike came knocking.

You’re pulled out of the dizzying spin of your mind and its thoughts by a voice picking up in the car, breaking through the heavy dread quickly building in your system and pulling you from diving any deeper into the what ifs. 

Jacob sings along to the music, completely unbothered by your presence in the car and swaying to the tune. You’re thankful for it, in a way. Thinking for too long on any of it makes you feel sick, so this is a welcome surprise.

And also highly fucking amusing. 

“—hey Jude, refrain…”

He cuts off abruptly at your side eye, straw pausing just below his lips.

“What—you don’t like the Beatles?” he questions, almost shocked by the mere idea of it.

“I never said that,” you try to fight the smile, but it pulls at your lips before you can really help it, “I’d just rather hear them sing their song.”

“Ha, you’re funny,” he drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes and sipping his drink before licking away the smudge of chocolate building up in the corner of his lips. “You know, when I was little, I wanted to go on American Idol.”

You choke on a laugh before you can stop it. “You did not.”

“I did. Thank god I didn’t—I’m not being remembered as a fucking idiot on YouTube for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t need American Idol, or YouTube for that.”

“Shit. Ouch,” he breathes, making a show of clutching his chest and giving you a playful grin, “okay, I see how it is. Now you can get the full show… NA-NA-NAA, HEY JUDE—”

—

“You’re behind nine weeks of payments. We can’t continue—”

Panic flares to life in your chest. You knew it was bad, you had the mounting bills building at home, but surely this couldn’t be it. They can’t just kick you out. There has to be something. You’d already maxed out your credit cards, you have nothing in the bank. Maybe they could do a payment plan, organise a scholarship or loan or something—

“No, please… I-I’ll work out something, I just—”

“I’m sorry,” the administrator gives you a look of sympathy, “but we can’t continue your education until payment has been sorted. Look, you’re a bright girl, you clearly have talent—maybe you’ll do okay on your own, without classes.”

“No, you don’t understand. This is all I have, I can’t lose this. Please, there must be something I can do?”

“Unfortunately not at this point in time, unless you can come up with this amount within the weeek. I’m sorry, I’ve held this off for as long as I can, but the debt is just mounting. We can’t continue with a promise of payment.”

You’re sure you can feel your heart breaking. You’d found some semblance of normality here… going to classes, doing fun assignments, meeting new people. It was the opportunity you needed, the chance to go further—

And now there’s nothing.

You sink into the chair, fighting the tears that build and clearing your throat to rid it of the uncomfortable feeling growing there.

“I understand,” you mutter, “thank you for your time.”

“Keep your head up, sweetheart. I’ll keep a spot available should you manage to work something out, okay? We’ll get you right back into it.”

There’s no way to work it out. Your job waiting tables paid pennies. You needed something more, something concrete, but with limited experience behind you and the requirements most places wanted nowadays, there was little chance of landing anything else. There’s just nothing you can do, short of robbing a bank.

You’d been expecting it for a little while, the stress continuously mounting with every bill that was sent to your door. You knew you weren’t paying for classes, you knew the debt was growing and growing. You just thought you had more time, more opportunity.

“I appreciate that, but don’t bother—I have nothing. Your waiting lists are huge, someone on there deserves their chance.”

You had yours, and you blew it.

—

Marcus is waiting outside the building.

Of course.

Your heart starts to beat harder in your chest. What is he doing here? He pushes off of the dark SUV he’s leaning against when he catches sight of Jacob’s silver sedan, and waits for you both to get out of the car when Jacob pulls to a slow stop.

“What do you want me to do?” Jacob asks quietly, making a show of reaching for, and struggling, with his briefcase in the backseat to give you a bit of time to answer.

You try not to look at him, doing a final check of your things that you’d previously already triple checked before leaving your apartment and deciding you've probably spent too much time dawdling.

“Can you just get me up there? I want to start my work,” you reply softly, grabbing the strap of your bag and reaching for the door handle, “but there’s not really much we can do if he wants to stay around.”

The breeze bites at your cheeks when you step out of the car, and you catch Marcus smoothing down his tie as you start to walk towards him. You feel your heart thunder with each step, resenting the way he could still stir those little butterflies awake in your stomach.

He’s attractive—that’s all it is. Your body is just simply reacting to it. There’s nothing there anymore. No feelings. Nothing.

“Good morning,” he greets quietly, a strained smile curling his lips, and you briefly decide that you prefer him with a bit of facial hair rather than a clean shave.

Not that it matters.

“Hello,” you return shortly, stopping just a few paces away and waiting for Jacob to catch up.

“I’m not staying,” he mutters after a few moments of further silence, his gaze darting past your shoulder to where his fellow agent walks around his car to reach the path. “There’s been a few developments overnight, so I’ve just come to check in with Wilson and then I’ll be going to the office. I won’t be coming back.”

Your reply is immediate and blunt.

“Good.”

It’s brief, but you see the flicker of hurt that passes through his eyes.

He drops his gaze from yours, desperate to look anywhere that wasn’t you, and soon the scuffle of shoes behind you brings his attention from you completely. It’s almost fascinating how instinctively his posture changes, hardening into something of an authority figure, hiding the swirl of emotions swimming in his eyes behind high walls.

You wonder if Jacob saw it. Does he see the difference between man and agent? Does he catch the certain mannerisms that change? Surely you can’t be the only one who sees it.

“Morning, sir. We’ll talk out here,” Jacob says firmly, coming to stand beside you and holding out a small set of keys, “she has a lot of work to do this morning and she wants to start immediately.”

Marcus blinks, his gaze darting between the two of you almost questioningly before he gives a slow nod, “Of course, that’s fine. I’ll let you get to it.”

You take the keys without another word and stride past Marcus, quickly letting yourself into the building and letting the door shut loudly behind you, dulling them to your senses and giving you a chance to breathe again.

Unrelenting heat washes under your skin, blood rushes through your ears until you can hear the heavy beat of your heart echo in the canals. You take a moment to gather yourself in the dark, quiet hallway, rubbing a hand along where your heart hammers against your chest.

When will it all stop? Would you ever be able to look at him and not feel an immediate burning sense of rage? Of bitterness? Would your mind ever forget the way he would say ‘I love you’? Would your body ever forget how he would touch you, kiss you? Would your heart ever just let it all go?

It would have to. Surely, it would have to.

Time was all you needed.

Once finished with this case, you would be once again free to move on—if you don’t end up arrested—, and forget there ever was an Alex. A Marcus. Whatever his name is. Time would take it all away. It would happen one day, you just had to be patient and wait.

-

Taglist 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist fic #run to you

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie was biting at his nails as he paced around the apartment. 

Steve still wasn't back.

He still wasn’t back and it was an hour past when he said he would be. 

He checked out the front window every few minutes, praying that he would show soon. He wouldn't be able to take this all night, he was only ten minutes away from finding him himself, parents be damned. He was probably overreacting, Steve had insisted he was overreacting, but nothing about this felt right. 

Two years they had been together, two years and Steve hadn’t seen them once. They had been at their vacation home in Jersey when things went to shit, and decided to stay there for the foreseeable future, son be damned.  There were a few calls here and there, maybe once every two months, calls that Steve was always expected to initiate, calls that he would walk away from downcast and depressed, always crawling into Eddie’s lap with a short, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie’s not exactly proud, but he had eavesdropped once on the other line, morbid curiosity and worry taking full control. It was his dad who picked up, who completely ignored Steve’s small, “Can I talk to mom?” to berate him over still living at home, and how he was lucky that the housing market in Hawkins was at its worst or he’d be homeless, and how it was about time he started to pay some rent. 

“If you can actually learn to be responsible down there, we might let you live with us when the house is sold, whenever that may be. But we'll be damned if we let a free-loader stay in our home. Do you understand Steven?”

He hadn’t even said goodbye when he was done, just a short, “Your mothers sleeping, I’ll tell her you called,” and the click of the phone. 

Steve hadn’t set foot in his old house for nearly a month before that call, it was more of a glorified storage unit if anything. Steve had basically moved in with him and Wayne when they were still dancing around each other, and he could probably count the times they’d slept apart in the past two years on one hand. 

And he was already paying rent, in his own way. Even when Wayne had absolutely refused to take a dime from Steve the first time he’d tried it.

“Just keep my Eddie out of trouble and smiling, and you can stay here as long as you want, free of charge,” The embarrassing, wonderful old fuck. 

It helped that Steve was slowly becoming Wayne’s new favorite, because his uncle had fantastic taste, and Steve was probably the sole reason they had stopped eating cut up hot dogs and canned green beans every other day. 

So Steve bought groceries, gas, even snuck in a few twenties into Wayne’s wallet every month, the little weirdo. He cooked and cleaned, forcing Wayne and Eddie to do the same, out of the sheer guilt of watching someone so sweet do all of their dirty work. 

It’s not that Eddie and Wayne couldn’t take care of themselves, they could, but it had been just the two of them for so long, and Wayne had been a mill working bachelor living in a trailer park before Eddie came along, he hadn’t been brimming with knowledge on how to keep a clean house, just a moderately decent one that CPS wouldn’t raise a brow to. 

But Steve…Steve was a cleaner. 

“You learn a thing or two when you gotta get rid of all traces of a house party,” he had laughed, when Eddie had caught him cleaning under the couch, a concept neither Wayne or he had ever grasped. Though that explanation hadn’t explained how he was so good at cooking. 

It had been almost shocking the first time Steve had cooked for him. He loved Steve, he really did, respected him too, but back then the guy basically subsisted on granola bars and pop tarts, and it was Robin or Eddie who usually had to shove real food down his throat, even if it was from a shitty fast food place half the time. 

He couldn’t really be blamed for the expectation that Steve couldn’t cook for shit. So imagine his surprise when Steve blew him away with something he hadn’t even heard of before, beef bourg-something, which ended up being about the best thing Eddie had ever tasted. 

“You can’t be gorgeous, sweet, and a good cook Stevie, you gotta pick a lane here.” He had been worried for a split second that he’d gone too far with the gorgeous and sweet bit, but Steve had just laughed, so obviously pleased that Eddie liked what he made. Which, in hindsight, Eddie should have taken as a massive green flag, it could have saved him weeks of pining. 

It became a regular occurrence after that, and Steve would always glow from the approval he would get from Wayne and Eddie, like they were doing him a favor by eating delicious food. 

“My mom used to like it, when I cooked,” Steve had admitted, much later one night, “Dad hated it, said that it was a short fall to being a fag, but my mom…she always said thank you. Always smiled. She’d ask me about my day sometimes, if I made something she really liked.”

“I like doing it,” he confessed, “But I haven’t had anyone to cook for in a long time."

"Steve…"

“But now I do.” Steve interrupted with a grin, so sincere as he grasped Eddie’s hand, “For someone who deserves it."

Eddie had kissed him silly that night. 

He still wasn’t sure if he actually deserved it, but he could agree that the Harringtons certainly did not. He didn’t even know what the fuckers looked liked. Their house was always shockingly impersonal, no family photos ever in sight, just expensive meaningless art that went with the furniture.

So why were they calling now? And how did they know to call Eddie’s house?

It had been Wayne who picked up the phone, just on his way out, eyebrows raising to his hairline as he passed it to Steve. It had been a short call, and then Steve was getting dressed, trying and failing to reassure Eddie that everything was fine. 

“It happens sometimes, when they get back, it’s like a checklist item, to see me.” Steve had said, shrugging on Eddie’s jacket. He was failing to reassure him, not when he could see his hands shaking as he tied his shoes, “I’ll be fine. It will be one awakward dinner, and then I’ll be back before you know it.”

Eddie watched him, trying to process the whiplash of Steve being calmly cuddled up to his side to getting ready to rush out the door.  

“If it’s not gonna take long then I can just wait in the car baby, it’s not that big a deal-”

“Eddie, no,” He was firm and unyielding, but was refusing to look Eddie in the eye,“I’ll be fine, trust me okay?”

He kissed his cheek on the way out the door, “Nine at the latest, I swear.”

Eddie didn’t trust him, not with this. Steve didn’t talk about his parents much, but the small things he had been able to coax out of him were never good. Selfish, neglectful, mean, but he wouldn’t elaborate, never going further than small stories and tidbits. Eddie never pushed him, never asked explicitly, but he had a pretty strong suspicion it didn’t end there. 

Steve had scars, some he would talk about and others he wouldn’t. He could perfectly recite the story of the mark on his chin, even though he was messed up on truth serum with a russian induced concussion, but when asked about the thin, silvery lines that adorned his body, he suddenly couldn’t remember a thing. 

And Eddie wasn’t the only one suspicious, the rumor mill of Hawkins was strong. Daniel Harrington was known for his temper, and was borderline psychotic in highschool according to Wayne, always trying to pick fights, and always buying his way out of the consequences. 

Back in highschool, there were a few whispers in the hallways, small shit about hearing screaming from the Harrington household, rumors about hand shaped bruises seen in the locker room, questions about why Steve startled so hard at loud noises. 

Eddie had dismissed it, something he still hasn’t quite forgiven himself for, and most of the school did with him. Afterall, kids who had their dads beat the shit out of them weren’t popular, they weren’t captains of the swim team, they didn’t walk around in designer clothes or drive new cars. They were supposed to be damaged losers, easy to pick from the crowd. Someone like Eddie, never someone like King Steve. When in reality, even without his parents, Steve had been dealing with shit that would have sent normal people spiraling for years. 

Even Wayne was on edge, obviously disturebed by the Harrington's sudden arrival. He eventually called from his girlfriend’s place, checking in on how it went, grunting unhappily when Eddie told him he still hadn’t gotten back yet, “If he’s not home in a few hours call Hopper.”

“Agreed.”

Eddie gave up on pacing and peeking, deciding to just sit his ass down on the front stoop and stare at the street. He was seconds away from giving in entirely, already trying to remember where he put his keys when he saw it. Familiar headlights were making their way up his street, parking crookedly on the curb.

Oh thank god. Eddie finally let himself breathe for the first time in hours. He should have just trusted Steve like he said-

His brain short-circuited as he watched the car door open and Steve tumble out of the driver's side, falling to the curb. Eddie was flying off of the stoop, at Steve's side in a moment as he struggled to stand. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, his baby was bleeding. His baby was bleeding and blurry eyed as he pathetically tried to stand up. Eddie didn’t hesitate, scoping him up in his arms to bring him inside.

“What the hell happened Steve?” Eddie asked, panicked as he laid him out on the couch. He looked awful, so bad that Eddie wanted to cry. His right eye was swollen and already purpling, his lip was split, sending dark, red tracks down his chin. Eddie took his jacket off for him, eyes widening to see the blood running down his arms, embedded bits of glass sparkling in the light.

"I'm sorry I’m late," Steve slurred, trying and failing to help Eddie remove the jacket, “It didn’t go so good.”

That was the understatement of the fucking century. Eddie’s mind was a cluster fuck, filled with worry, confusion, rage, despair at seeing Steve so hurt, for no fucking good reason. But he needed to focus, freaking out wasn’t helping Steve, who was still fucking bleeding. Stopping that took precedent. 

Steve looked down at himself, frowning as he seemimly took in the damage for the first time, before stupidly trying to sit up, “I’ll get blood on the couch,” 

That stupid statement was enough to get Eddie out of his shock.

“I don’t give a shit about the couch Steve.” Eddie hissed out, fighting not to yell. He was feeling too much all at once, but he refused to let himself be mad at Steve for being so idiotically self neglinat, not when he needed him. He rubbed a hand over his face, steeling himself to get his shit together before standing. 

“Wait here sweetheart, and keep your eyes open, okay? I’ll be right back,” Eddie had to gently push Steve back down when he tried to sit up, “Just let me take care of you.”

Steve nodded, seemingly accepting the fact that yes, his literal life took precedence over cheap furniture. Eddie made it to the bathroom in record time, for once surreally grateful he had experienced the Upside Down, because it had forced him to have multiple first aid kits on hand. 

He was back in less than a minute, horrified to see Steve standing on unsteady feet, spreading a blanket on the couch, like ruining the upholstery with this blood was really the priority here. He had the good grace to look guilty when he saw Eddie, sitting back down with a heavy sound, unprompted. 

Calm down, calm down, calm down, Eddie thought to himself, before kneeling in front of Steve. His hands were shaking as he opened the first aid kit, but he made them work. He pressed up against the cut on his lips with cotton rounds, placing Steve’s hand against it to keep the pressure. His arms were worse, and his shaking wasn’t helping him tweeze the glass out, beer bottle by the looks of it, but he managed. 

Steve was still acting woozy, barely acknowledging the sting of the alcohol as Eddie bandaged and cleaned all of his cuts, “What hurts the most baby? I need you to tell me.”

“Head,” Steve mumbled, “feels like it’s burning.”

Fuck, Eddie didn’t know what to do with that. Surface level shit he could handle, but it sounded like he had a concussion, “Steve, I think we need to take you to a hospital-”

“No.” It was automatic, so quick from Steve’s mouth that Eddie did a double take. 

“Why the hell not?”

"I don’t…" he sighed, "I don't want everyone to know, okay? Not yet. I just want you."

"But-"

“Eddie, please?” He was begging, pleading in a way Eddie didn’t know how to say no too.

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to be patient, “Okay, okay. Just stay right here, and keep your eyes open, got it? I’ll be right back.”

Eddie kissed him on the forehead, ignoring his soft comments about being sweaty and gross. He went straight to the phone, calling the only number he could think of. 

Wayne picked up on the third ring, obviously expecting the call. He told him everything, desperate for advice, “He doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but he looks bad, Wayne. I-I don’t know what to do,”

“Jesus christ, wait a second.” 

Eddie kept peeking his head out into the hall, like Steve was going to spontaneously combust if he let him out of his site for too long. He repeated everything to Mindy, relieved that there was someone who knew what to do.

“Oh honey…Keep him awake okay? If he can’t stay conscious, call 911, don’t wait for us. And don't move him too much, we’ll be right there."

Thank god for Mindy, the saint. He had already adored the woman the first time they’d met, just from the way she made his uncle smile, but this was going to have her in his good books for the end of time. 

Steve was still awake when he got back, thankfully. Eddie sat on the floor next to him, taking his hand, “Wayne and Mindy are coming over in a bit, okay? Someone has to check on you.”

Steve started to protest, but one look at Eddie’s unamused face shut him up. He looked away, “I forgot she was a nurse.”

“If she says you need to go to the hospital, you’re going.”

“Okay.”

Eddie waited for Steve to start telling him what the fuck had happened, so he knew who he had to murder. But he didn’t say anything, he just kept occasionally playing with the rings on Eddie’s hands, proving that he was still awake. 

Eddie broke the silence first, he just couldn’t take not saying anything,“You’re not going back there. Ever. I'm never letting you out of my sight again.”

Steve laughed, wincing when it made his lip bleed a bit more. That was almost enough to have Eddie crying all over again. 

“I, um, can’t go back there, actually.” He didn’t even look sad, just resigned, “They said it was you or them. I chose you and,” he chuckled, humorless, “And they did not take it well.”

“They know?” Eddie asked, the answer obvious, but the how wasn’t. They were hundreds of miles away, never giving a single shit about their son’s life.

He nodded, “They told me on the phone, said they knew what I was up to, that I owed them an explanation.”

“How?”

“Tommy, I guess. He called them, sat down with them or something,” he shrugged and even that small movement looked painful, “Worried about my life choices or some shit.”

Another one to the list of people Eddie was going to have to choke out. 

Eddie should have never let him go over there alone, or at all. He knew something was up, he fucking knew it, but he was here sitting on his hands while Steve was getting the shit beat out of him. 

Eddie wanted him to look at him, needed him to look at him. He cradled Steve’s face, carefully moving him to meet his eyes, "Stevie…baby, why did you go?”

He looked so broken down, tears starting to gather in the corner of his eyes. Steve went to bite his lip, flinching when he realized what a mistake that was, “If I didn’t go he would have shown up here. A-and I didn’t want you to get hurt. I thought I could talk them down or something, or just lie my way through it but…I couldn’t.” 

Eddie resisted the urge to argue with him, to say that Steve mattered more, that he couldn’t put himself in harm’s way for his sake, that he would have gladly been the one to take the beating if it meant he would be okay. He was tracing the outline of his jaw, half for comfort and half to check for more injuries, biting down all of his indignation. 

“How many times have they done this before?”

“They haven’t-”

“Sweetheart, please don’t lie to me,” Eddie wiped the tears from his good eye, patient.

Steve took a deep breath, closing his eyes, admitting the truth out loud for the first time in his life, “I’ve lost count.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

"I didn't want to scare you away,"

Eddie frowned, immediately confused, “What does that mean?”

The tears were really starting to fall now, Steve wincing at the sting of them in his cuts, “I-I know I’m already a lot okay? I’m clingy and annoying a-and I fucking scream and shit in the middle of the night and I just didn’t want to add another thing for you to have to deal with.”

Blaming himself for the terrible things other people did to him, classic fucking Steve. Eddie wanted to shake him, to yell at him that he was the most important person in his world, how could anything ever scare him away?  But he held it all back.

"There is nothing that would ever make me not want you," Eddie swallowed, his own eyes starting to sting, "I'll always love you, don't you know that?"

"I-I do, really, I just...I don't know. I should have told you," Steve managed to look ashamed through his tears, and it just made Eddie's heart hurt more. He wanted to hug him, to hold him tight, and never let go. But he couldn't, not without hurting him. Steve's favorite thing in the world was getting held, and they managed to take that away. Eddie didn't know why that fact was standing out so much, but he'd never forgive them for it. 

He could hear the sound of Wayne’s truck pulling into the driveway, footsteps not far behind. Eddie kissed the side of his mouth, as lightly as he could before standing to let them inside. 

Mindy made quick work of tending to him, revealing more injuries under his clothes that Eddie hadn't even realized were there. His heart almost stopped at the sight of Steve shirtless, mottled yellow bruising strewn across his sides.

He and Wayne stood on the sidelines, both anxious as they waited for the news. Wayne was furious in a way that he hadn’t seen since he was a kid, back when it was Eddie being patched up from his own shit dad.

"You can stay home tonight," she finally declared to Steve, gesturing Eddie over, "You just need lots and lots of rest. Give those ribs a chance to heal a good while before you do anything strenuous. Now let's help get you to bed.”

"Thank you," Steve mumbled as Eddie scooped him up. Now that he had gotten the go-ahead to sleep, Steve was already letting his eyes fall closed, clearly exhausted. He set him down on the bed carefully, helping him change into clean clothes, ignoring the weak protests that he could do it himself. 

“Please don’t go after him,” Steve mumbled when Eddie got him under the covers, "Promise me?"

Eddie hesitated, "But-"

"It's not about them," Steve rushed out, shaking his head, "Getting arrested isn't worth it. Losing you isn't worth it. Swear?”

He was right, Eddie knew Steve was right. His father wasn't just anybody, he'd press charges against almost any offense against him. And he had the lawyers to back it up. Steve was still looking at him, struggling to keep his eyes open as he waited. Eddie relented, begrudgingly giving into stupid things like logic, “I swear.”

"Thank you," Steve whispered, finally letting himself fall asleep, "I love you."

Eddie kissed his forehead, staying by his side until he was fully out of it, losing himself in his own thoughts. He wouldn’t lie to Steve, he couldn’t lie to Steve, even if he wanted to. 

He wouldn't lay a hand on his father. But that didn't mean he couldn't get his shit back. Preferably before it was thrown out or damaged by his psychotic family. He left Wayne with a sleeping Steve, after a few dozen promises, that no, he was not going to go commit a violent felony.

Just a few misdemeanors. 

“If they haven't already skipped town, then you come right back. You hear me?” Wayne insisted, watching him tie up his boots with narrowed eyes. 

“I hear you. It'll be two hours, tops.”

He parked a block away, slinking along the sidewalk. Lucky enough for him, there were no cars in the driveway of the Harrington house, and all the lights were off. The whole neighborhood was quiet. It sure looked like they booked it, maybe too afraid of an assault charge actually sticking to stay in town.

Breaking into Steve’s room was easy, first floor with an unlocked window? Child’s play. His room looked untouched, thankfully. Whatever had happened, hadn’t happened here. He didn't waste time, immediately starting to throw the few things left in his bag. There really wasn’t much to grab, a few mixtapes, some drawings from Will, the last of his clothes. Eddie was searching under the bed when he heard it, the sound of the knob turning. 

He froze, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind him. He expected whoever it was to start yelling, but instead there was only the click of the door closing shut behind them. He turned slowly, surprised to see who was standing there.  

He had never seen her before, but he recognized her immediately. Steve looked just like her. The same big eyes and pouty mouth, the same gravity defying hair. They stared at each other, but she didn’t scream. She kept her eyes on him as she walked forward, primly sitting at Steve’s pristine desk. 

Eddie was trying to calculate how much time it would take to book it back down the window and to his car, when she opened her mouth, “You can keep packing, don’t worry. Daniel’s gone for now.”

She was shuffling around in Steve’s old desk as she spoke, "You're Eddie, I presume.”

It was a statement, not a question, despite the phrasing, but Eddie answered anyway, “That’s me.”

She found what she was looking for, plain paper and a pen and started scribbling as she spoke, “Is he okay?”

That broke him out of his stunned little trance. Eddie stared at her, baffled and annoyed that she would even ask, “He’s alive.”

“Did he go to the hospital?”

“Why do you care?” He was pushing it. He should just pack Steve’s shit and go, but he was stuck, seething at the woman who allowed Steve to live with that monster, too angry to keep his mouth shut.

She shrugged, “If my husband is about to be arrested for disciplining our son, I’d like to know about it.”

There it was. Eddie was pretty sure this was the first time he had ever wanted to hit a woman before. He scoffed, “Un-fucking-believable. I’m not even going to answer that.”

He made his way into the closet, grabbing the few things that were still left on hangers. She was still scribbling at Steve’s desk, when he came out, flipping the page over to start on the back. 

She didn’t look up at him, “He’s…” she shook her head, eyes on the paper, “It’s never been that bad before.”

Eddie ignored her, hurriedly going through Steve’s drawers, desperate to just get away from this bitch, this house, and get back to his Steve.  

She was folding the paper up, letter style, before finally looking back up at Eddie. She was biting her lip, the exact same way Steve did, “Will you take care of him? If he stays?”

“Better than you.” Eddie snapped, mind jumping on the if. 

She stood giving him a head to toe look, obviously displeased with what she saw. She held the letter out, “Give him this. He deserves to know he has options, and everything he’s giving up, because of you.” She said it matter of factly, like Eddie was just a temporary bump in the road, “We can give him a new start, and he’ll need a new start somewhere anyway, his father is spreading the news of your affair as we speak.”

Eddie stared down at the letter, making no moves to take it, "Your husband nearly kills him, and you think he’s going to be open to giving him a new start?" He scoffed, “Are you insane? Steve’s never going near that psycho again.”

“I could convince him,” she insisted, “When he calms down and realizes Steve needs help, he’ll be willing to give it to him.”

She shook the letter at him, her forced calm finally starting to crack, “Just give it to him. Consider it a trade for me not having you arrested for trespassing.”

Eddie snatched the letter from her hands, stuffing it into his back pocket, "Fine."

“Good. You can go back out through the window,” she said, turning to leave, “No reason for the neighbors to see more than they already have tonight."

“He won’t come back,” Eddie said, staring at her back,“He has a new family now, a real family, and I’ll never let either of you hurt him again.”

She scoffed, “We’ll just see about that,” Eddie could feel the venom behind her words, a peek into the real person behind the pretty mask. She slammed the door on the way out, like the petty child she was. 

Eddie hated her, hated how she was so sure of herself, so confident with someone she didn’t even fucking know. 

He hated how she thought she loved Steve.

Eddie was still fuming by the time he got home. He dumped the duffle bag into the entryway, the letter still burning a hole in his pocket. Steve wasn't going to leave him because of some scribbled words from his mom, on some level he knew that.

But even on the off chance he had suffered some serious brain damage and wanted to go back he wouldn't let him anyway. He'd kill Daniel Harrington himself before letting his Steve be around the piece of shit. He stepped from the hall into the living room, freezing when he saw Steve curled up on the couch, wide awake. He looked relieved to see him, before letting a frown take over his bruised face.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Eddie asked, shrinking a little at Steve’s glare. He ignored the question. 

“What did you do?” Eddie flinched, but he couldn’t really blame him for expecting the worst. His track record wasn’t exactly…stellar in the physical protection department. 

He raised his hands, placating, “Nothing, I promise! You won’t be seeing my name plastered on any headlines. I just got your stuff.”

Steve stared at him, looking for any tells. Eddie didn’t know how he did it, but the guy would just know when he was lying. Eventually he seemed satisfied with whatever he saw, relenting.

“Come here then,” he made grabby hands, adorable even when he was pissy and all bruised up. 

Eddie went to him, hugging him with careful hands, “How are you feeling baby?”

“Horrible,” Steve admitted, cuddling into his side “But not worse.” 

Eddie nodded, taking him in. He still looked awful, but he was way more coherent than a few hours ago, a sign in the right direction. He thought of the letter burning a hole in his pocket, wondering if it would really be so terrible to just throw it away, Steve none the wiser. What could she possibly say to make up for this?

But on the other hand…it wasn’t his choice to make.

“I uh, “ he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, “Kinda ran into your mom, while I was there.”

Steve went rigid in his arms, staring up at him with wide-eyes. 

"But nothing happened!" Eddie rushed out, flinching at the sight of Steve’s panicked face, "We just talked."

“Why would she want to talk to you?”

Eddie sighed, digging into his back pocket. Now or never he guessed, “She wanted me to give this to you.”

Steve stared at the envelope, taking it in shaky hands, “She gave it to you?”

"Wrote it out in front of me. She said, uh, that you deserved to know everything you were giving up.”

Because of me. 

He left that part unsaid.

Steve frowned at the paper in his hand, shaking his head, "Help me up," 

“You’re not supposed to be moving-”

“Just to the kitchen,” Steve insisted, “I’ll lay down right after,”

Eddie gave in, helping Steve to his feet, fully intending to drag him back to bed the second he was done with whatever this was. Steve steadied himself, shooing Eddie away to weakly walk towards the kitchen.

Eddie followed him, confused as he dug around in the drawers, finding whatever he was looking for before going to the sink. Eddie watched, wide eyed as he lit a match, promptly setting the paper on fire.

"Steve-"

“It doesn't matter what it says," Steve cut in, letting it drop into the sink, "I made my choice."

He turned away from the sink, stepping back into Eddie’s arms, “All I want is you.”

Eddie held him, forcing himself to be gentle when all he wanted to do was bury himself into the other man, "You won't regret it.” Eddie choked up, teary-eyed, “I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't."

"It sounds like you're proposing," Steve said with a wet laugh. Eddie started kissing his face, helpless to not touch him. 

"Maybe I am,”He managed to gasp out in between pecks, “But only if you'd say yes." 

Fuck being young. Fuck every doubt that other people would have. There was no future that existed where Eddie wouldn't want Steve. This was it, the only person he would ever want, ever need. Steve stopped him at his mouth, careful of his cut as he kissed him, so light it was barely there.

He whispered into the small space between their lips, like a secret just for them, "I would."

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #I literally just swiped this from my fic on ao3 #because oh damn the way I wrote it has the non dirty bits in pretty good ficlet format #drabble #so spoilers if you read living the unknown dream #word for word stealing #from myself #so doesnt count #violence #blood is mentioned #parental violence #steve has very very bad parents #is this too long to be a drabble? #what are the rules? #abusive parents #they're in love your honor #uncle wayne #being great #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson

[queenimmadolla]

what about one based on fall outta love by salem?

the morning after a house party at ricks, eddie bumps into reader for the first time - hungover in a kitchen and they instantly fall for each other, but reader initially rebuffs him (and every other guy in hawkins) & eventually agrees to a date but despite her feelings for him she tells him to fall out of love with her, they keep hanging but he just falls harder and then finds out from someone else she had her heart literally ripped out and set alight by an ex so has built so many walls hence constantly telling him to save himself, fall out of love because that’s what she’s also telling herself. but obvioooooously, they will end up together 🫶

my god. this one got out of hand. i mean i really ran away with it. thought it’d be like 2k word count wise now here we are at 8k! since the song was in scream, I decided to have it be a Halloween party they meet at! I took a couple of creative liberties because I couldn’t think of a date idea fast enough to write in a satisfying manner (meaning decently, but Eddie would most definitely consider smoking in your car as a date, he’d consider anything with you a date, so long as you’d have him.) and I didn’t want to have too many large time skips, but I still tried to capture the root of the request! Hope you like it because i LOVED writing it!

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

warnings: teenage angst, fluff, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, reader dresses as Ghostface, Eddie as Michael Myers and Heather Holloway meddles in your love life

a/n: we’re gonna pretend Scream came out in the early 80s (I have a whole fancast of an 80s version). let me know if the keep reading tab eats or repeats paragraphs so i can remove it!

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned, forcing your eyes open in a squint as you were pulled from sleep due to the chill of the air. You could make out a mesh covered ceiling—wait no. You still had your mask on. 

You lifted your head from the cushion it had been resting on, frowning when you realized you’d wiped out on the couch at Reefer Rick’s. Your head was killing you and you could feel something sitting in your stomach, something that wouldn’t be going anywhere but up.

You’d caught wind of the party when Heather mentioned it to you. Initially, you’d been skeptical of attending─not because of the weed and drugs that would be going around, you were a hardy participant in that—since you were sure that it would disappoint you. It’s not like you expected anything life changing to happen at a drug dealer’s party, but you’d been faced with a lot of recent let downs and disappointment, not a whole lot was going on in your life. That was sort of the problem. You liked being on your own, it was safe; you wouldn’t get hurt and nothing would happen to you again.

But nothing was happening to you. 

It was like you were living your life on autopilot, finding barely any joy in things. Maybe part of you hoped you’d somehow find some at the party.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t remember shit, having blacked out after your friends talked you into a couple of shots. After the fifth, it was all you and by the ninth, caution was gone with the wind. It wasn’t even a blur to you, you legitimately couldn’t recall a single thing other than your own laughter along with your friends’ immediately after downing that last shot.

You’d gone dressed as Ghostface, a quick last minute costume that wasn’t too much effort (you wore something a little scandalous underneath the black gown just in case it proved to be a ‘sexy’ party instead of just a bunch of teenagers dressed however they wanted to be) and you liked the mystery it gave you, you could interact with anyone and no one would know it was you.

Your head throbbed as images popped up—memories. The memory blurs finally arrived and they were causing your brain a great deal of pain. You couldn’t recall too much and you didn’t want to because nothing good could have come from getting fucked up so fast and waking up on some pornstach having dealer’s couch (seriously, Rick was like thirty two and he was hanging out with teens? Red fucking flag). 

You sighed as you pushed yourself up, hugging the black gown of your costume a little tighter around you. You wished you’d gone with wearing a long sleeve t-shirt and some warm pants instead of the cheap black corset and black tights. Should’ve know better, really, because it was way too fucking cold to dress hot on Halloween.

The wind howled outside of the house, as if to prove your point and you stood up, stepping over the sleeping individuals that littered the ground. You noticed a couple of your friends but you hadn’t driven together so there was no point in waking them. Clearly, you hadn’t been the only one to pass out at the party and you made a note to never do that again. Anyone could have taken advantage of you.

You chanced a glance at your wrist and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still early, really early. Barely even 5am, so you could still make it home before your parents were up and realized you hadn’t met your curfew, you could also be sick in the comfort of your own clean bathroom. You made a beeline for the door.

“Another survivor,” a voice commented, disturbing the quiet of the thoroughly wrecked house.

You followed the voice, spotting Eddie Munson in the corner of the kitchen, leaning up against the counter there. 

You weren’t too familiar with him, had a couple of classes with him in the past, saw him around school and knew he dealt to a couple people, but you hadn’t ever had an encounter with him before. Never exchanged a single word.

The feeling in your stomach grew worse, as did the pulsing in your head, “I don’t know about that.”

Your voice was a near whisper, hoarse from whatever the fuck happened last night after you blacked out.

Eddie chuckled and you wondered how he was still functioning—and this early, too—but you hadn’t seen him around. Or maybe you had, you thought as you took in the blue mechanic overalls he was wearing and the Michael Myers mask by his side. Like you, and just about everyone else at the party, he hadn’t been the only one with that costume, so while you could recall seeing a couple of Michaels around while you were sober, you couldn’t be positive one of them had been him.

“Not feeling too good, Ghost?” He didn’t seem to have a problem talking to a total stranger, talking you up like he was familiar with you, which you highly doubted thanks to your mask.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Kinda just want to take my head off.” You rubbed the back of your head through the hood.

“You want some water?” He didn’t wait for your response, just went right into Rick’s fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, reaching over the counter to hand it to you.

Despite how it seemed to jostle your brain, you gave a brief laugh before you remembered people were still passed out and you hastily tried to silence yourself, covering your mouth which ended with you letting out an embarrassing snort. Then you quickly took the offered bottle into your glove-covered hand, but you didn’t drink it, regardless of how badly you wanted to. That would require taking off your mask.

Eddie just grinned, sliding his hands into the pockets of his costume.

“I like your costume.” You commented, your gloved fingers picking at the label on the bottle, heartbeat picking up as Eddie’s grin widened to expose his teeth. There was something about it, something secretive. Like he knew something you didn’t. 

“Thank you,” Eddie grabbed the Michael mask from where he’d placed it on the counter next to his own bottle of water. It flopped around in his hold. “Didn’t wanna show my mug.”

“That’s a shame.”

Pretty, is all you could think when he glanced to the side for a moment, looking all shy. His hair was a mess, yours was probably worse under your mask, definitely matted, but other than that, he looked put together. 

Suddenly, you were even more grateful for your mask. You hadn’t bothered putting on makeup since your face would be hidden for most of the night (save for pulling it over your mouth to drink). But god, you must have stunk. You couldn’t wait to get home where your shower and toothbrush were waiting for you. You were glad there was a notable distance between the both of you so he couldn’t smell you and the alcohol radiating off your being.

“So. So, so, so. I’m guessing you don’t remember.” Eddie leaned back against the counter behind him, looking very smug. 

Your blood went cold—colder, actually—at the implication.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no. What had you done?

Play it cool.

“I don’t know, do I?” You winced behind your mask. Cool, not stupid, you idiot! 

Eddie chuckled, glancing shyly down at the ground before his gaze flickered back up to you, warmth pooling in those brown eyes. 

Huh. You never noticed the color before. Or how big they were, or expressive. Very soft. 

“I don’t think so,” He responded, teeth biting at his lower lip as he stared at you from under his lashes.

“Damn. Didn’t expect you to call my bluff. Please tell me it wasn’t anything too embarrassing.”

“No, it wasn’t. Not in my opinion, we just—uh, hung out.” He licked his lips, suddenly looking very skittish. You did a quick mental body check, clenching down there to see if it felt different, sore to indicate you’d fucked someone but you felt nothing unusual, so you couldn’t have slept with him. He must have genuinely meant hanging out. 

“Oh. Okay. So, I did something pretty cool then.” It was the right thing to say, Eddie immediately perked up, leaving you amazed with how he somehow managed to go from sullen to glowing so fast.

“What? Not mortified that you spent time with The Freak?” He said it so nonchalantly, if you hadn’t seen how affected he’d appeared when he simply thought it moments ago, you wouldn’t think he cared.

“You’re no freakier than anyone else,” for some reason you offered him a smile even though he couldn’t see it. “But you appear significantly better dressed. In my opinion.”

Eddie looked like he was mulling something over, then he pulled his hands out of his pockets and took a step closer, grin morphling into a smile, a little more intimate, “You have an opinion of me?”

Oh, fuck. He was flirting. Oh, God. Eddie Munson was flirting with you.

He was flirting with you and he didn’t even know who you were. It made that feeling in your stomach more apparent because you knew the moment he found out who you were, he wouldn’t be interested. 

Just like—no. You couldn’t go there. You were finally in a good place and you’d be damned if you let any guy ruin it for you. Even Eddie Munson.

“It’s not very thorough. Well, it was nice meeting you, Eddie.” You didn’t wait for his reply as you returned to your original goal, ignoring the flash of disappointment you saw on his face in favor of slipping out the front door.

─

“He’s staring at you again,” Heather smirked, chin perched in her palm as she sat across from you in the cafeteria.

“Who?” You asked, trying to seem bored with the conversation to get her to drop it. Anytime she noticed some guy glance in your direction, she tried to convince you you had a new suitor. God forbid it actually was a dude who was interested in you. Heather always aggressively lobbied for you to do something about it then she’d get mad at you when you did, by telling them to move the hell on because it wasn’t gonna happen.

She leaned across the table, pretty brown eyes wide with excitement as she grinned. “Eddie. Munson.”

You tensed, swallowing the cucumber slice you’d popped into your mouth before she’d sprung the news on you. Despite how badly you wanted to, you kept yourself from turning to look at his table, almost clear across the cafeteria.

“What? Why?”

“Who cares? Eddie Munson is staring at you—has been every day this week and he’s been doing it in the halls, too,” Heather looked proud of herself for her snooping habits, curly side ponytail bobbing as she rattled on, “He’s cute, he can give you free weed—Lana Landon dated him for like a week and wouldn’t shut up about that perk, and I don’t know, he seems like a good guy. Maybe a little on the grumpy side, but I think that’s an act.”

You rolled your eyes and took a drink of water before responding.

“That’s all guys ever do. Act. He doesn’t know me, if anything he probably just thinks I’m pretty or something. He’ll get over it.” 

Heather smirked and you knew what was coming, “I think he’s still hung up on Ghostface.” 

She raised her eyebrows suggestively and you threw a chip at her, which she dodged with her palm.

“Hey! Friendly fire!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that.” You groaned, shaking your head. After you’d gotten home and cleaned up, you’d called Heather, having remembered (with a great deal of panic) that she’d been there, too, and you might have left her there amongst the strung out people in the house. She seemed surprised at your relief when you heard her voice on the other side. Turns out, she’d left pretty early.

When you’d taken offense to her leaving you at some random party, she’d explained that she had initially tried to take you with her, but you’d been having such a good time talking with Eddie that you begged her to let you stay.

She hadn’t seen you like that over someone in a long time, so she’d actually threatened Eddie with bodily harm if anything happened to you and allowed you to stay.

Maybe that had been why Eddie was still around when you woke up.

“Look, I’m just saying you should talk to him. If he doesn’t know you’re Ghostface—which I’m pretty sure he does because he is doing some intense staring─then he’s just interested in you. Talk to him, give him a shot. Pleeeeaaase?” She batted her eyelashes, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 

You pretend to think it over, eyes raised to the ceiling. “Mmm—no.”

“Ugh!”

“Ugh!” You mimicked with a smirk, standing with your tray. “I’m gonna go smoke in my car, wanna come?”

“Yes,” She sighed but made no move to get up, in fact, she looked down right depressed. “But I can’t. I’ve gotta cram for Siegfried’s stupid stats test. There’s no way I’m getting anything higher than a ‘C’.” 

You failed to notice her gaze flicker behind you and back. “You have fun! Go! Give you brain cells a vacation.” 

Heather shooed you away, eagerness returning but that was Heather for you. She flip flopped through emotions pretty quick. With a shrug, you turned and made your way to a nearby trash can, dumping your tray on your way out. You’d made it halfway down the hall when you felt a presence behind you.

You swiveled around and flinched when you found Eddie just a foot behind you, hands raised to show he meant no harm with a sheepish grin on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Geez! You’re really quiet, I didn’t hear a thing.” You calmed your breathing, running a hand over your hair.

Eddie snickered, gesturing down to his reeboks, “Sneakers.” 

A silence fills the space between you both as Eddie watched you fight to keep from smiling, bemused at how you were clearly losing.

“Get it?” He added to prompt your defeat. 

You succumbed to the smile, biting your lip to keep it from getting too big and Eddie looked thoroughly proud of his ability to be of some amusement to you.

“That was—that was really bad.” You admitted, still smiling. “It’s a good joke, great joke, just also very bad.”

“Belittle it all you want, it served its purpose.” Eddie shrugged his shoulders, scuffing one of his sneakers against the school tile. “Hey, uhm—where you going?”

You hadn’t expected him to be so direct, or nosey. “Not far.”

Eddie nodded, having expected you to be a little wary and pursed his lips, looking like he was ready for a kiss. Then he made a popping sound.

“Do you happen to smoke weed?” 

It was obvious to you that he was asking so he could offer and you remembered what Heather had said. About Eddie being able to give you free weed. Or rather, being used so he’d provide the weed. Truth was, you remembered Lana bragging about it, too, until Andrew Wilkerson from the baseball team started paying attention to her. She never mentioned Eddie or his weed again. And it hadn’t been just Lana, a couple of other girls took advantage of Eddie’s romantic side. You hadn’t cared all that much back then but after realizing he’d taken care of you on Halloween, had kept you company although he didn’t know you were you, thinking about what they did to him made you feel sick.

You didn’t use people, you knew too well how awful it felt. Still, Eddie looked so hopeful. You had a feeling he fully expected you to do the same thing as those other girls, but was too naive or resilient to give up. Reminded you a lot of how you used to be.

“I do,” you confirmed and when Eddie opened his mouth, ready to offer you what he had in that lunchbox of his, you continued, “I have a nug in my car, if you’d like to join me.”

Despite your better judgment, you’d indulge him, if not because so many others seemed to let him down. Nothing could come from it of course. And you wouldn’t use him, either. 

Eddie’s face split into a wide smile.

That’s how you wound up in your car, giggling as Eddie nearly hacked up an organ from the harsh bubbler you kept in a scooby doo themed lunchbox, under the passenger seat which Eddie was occupying.

“Jesus,” he croaked out, coughing into his elbow. 

“Feels like you burned a hole in the back of your neck, doesn’t it?”

Eddie nodded as he continued to cough, eyes watering. Once he’d managed to get it under control, he let out a sigh of relief. 

“How the hell do you hit that all the time?” He asked, passing you the small blue pipe.

You lit it again and took your own hit, coughing once you’d exhaled but not worse than Eddie had.

“I don’t,” you placed the bubbler in your cup holder and leaned against the driver’s door so you could face Eddie who was leaned all the way back, staring at you with happy looking red eyes, “It’s pretty harsh, so all that coughing gives a pretty intense and quick high. I’ll be good off of that for a couple of days. Also I have to give my throat some time to heal.”

Eddie laughed at your joke and you couldn’t help but think it was a pretty sound. “I’m more of a joint kind of guy, but pretty girls don’t offer me free drugs often, let alone smoke with me without getting so high they can’t function. Would’ve been stupid to say no.”

You tried to ignore the fluttering in your belly, you’d thought those butterflies had died out a while ago. And all he did was call you pretty. Pretty pathetic.

You may not not have been high enough to pass out like Eddie implied; however, you were high enough to feel brave.

“Is that what Lana did?”

Eddie looked momentarily shocked at your question, eyes rising to the ceiling of your car before he decided to answer your question.

“Uhm. Yeah. She—yeah. She was nice, sweet. Didn’t seem repulsed with me. Thought she just approached me for a deal, then she started flirting with me, I guess. Then, I thought we were a thing, but it turns out we weren’t. She actually was interested in just the deal.”

“Only, she didn't tell you that.” You finished for him, realizing despite having been wronged by her, Eddie wouldn’t paint her in a bad light, making it seem like it had been a misunderstanding. You’d heard the way Lana boasted. It hadn’t been a misunderstanding. “Did she lead you on, Eddie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, I just did a lot of thinking. Not enough asking.” 

God, you wanted to punch Lana in the face. Eddie was so nice, he refused to admit that Lana—in that moment—had been a bad person. Blamed himself for thinking some girl was interested in him because she was intentionally flirting with him in order to gain something for her own selfish reasons.

“That’s how it works, Eddie. Leading someone on. They flirt, make you feel special, play coy or maybe make you think you’re worrying over nothing when you work up enough courage to question the slight gaslighting and affection-bombing—then they leave. ‘Cause they’ve taken what they wanted and you’ve got nothing left to offer. It’s not okay. She was wrong for that.”

Eddie was quiet, you could tell his mind wasn’t. When he did speak again, his voice was soft.

“But I flirt. A lot.”

You wanted to shake the victim blaming mentality right out of him, he was making another excuse for her! Or worse, he thought he was like her.

“Eddie, listen really carefully to what I’m about to say, okay?” You waited for his nod of understanding.

“There is a large difference between your flirty personality and leading someone on. You,” you lightly punched his shoulder, “flirt because you’re just a flirt. Lana, doesn’t. Lana singled you out, intentionally, with the hopes that making you think you two were more serious than just casually dating would get her free weed. When you intentionally single someone out with your flirting, it’s because you like them and you want more of them. Am I right?”

The weed in your system was why you were able to withstand the intensity of his gaze, almost burned more than the bubbler had.

“Yeah,” Eddie finally admitted, the side of his head leaning into the headrest as he shifted onto his side to face you, “You’re right.”

“You deserve better than that, Eddie. You deserve better than the rest of those girls, too.” He hadn’t mentioned the others and you hadn’t wanted to bring them up either, sensing his shame but you needed him to know. He couldn’t end up like you.

“Do you remember me?” He blurted out and you frowned.

“Yeah, we had English together last year.”

“No,” Eddie shook his head, “I mean from the party. Rick’s party.”

You froze, heart stopping. 

Eddie had that hopeful look on his face again as he tugged on a strand of his hair, nervous.

“You were Ghostface,” he prompted, as if it would trigger the memory you already recalled.

He knew it was you this whole time?

“How did you know it was me? Oh, fuck, please tell me I didn’t rant to you about my life while I was plastered. I’m so embarrassing.” 

You wanted to disappear until Eddie gave a nervous laugh, shaking his head again.

“No, no. Definitely didn’t do that. But uh, I saw you. With your mask off. While you were drinking. A lot.” He snickered at the memory of you throwing a shot glass back, then proceeding to refill it an almost concerning amount of times.

“Your voice is pretty distinct, too. You also meet your height requirements.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say, stunned that he’d even be able to recognize your voice. Up until the morning you’d woken up on that shitty couch (and the night before, apparently) you couldn’t remember ever actually speaking to Eddie. Still, somehow he’d heard you. That knowledge warmed the area in you where the butterflies had been fighting to survive all this time.

You weren’t stupid, you knew where Eddie was going with this. What his stare had meant when you reassured him he wasn’t like Lana.

Heather was right. Eddie Munson was hung up on you. You had to put an end to it.

Luckily, you were (in the most cliche of manners) saved by the bell when it rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

You hurriedly got out of your car and Eddie scrambled out after you, hurriedly moving around to your side while you locked it.

“I gotta go,” was the poor excuse you gave him as you started to rush back to the main entrance of the school.

“Hey! Wait!”

“Eddie, please.” You whipped around to face, eyes pleading for him to understand. “I meant it when I said you deserved better than Lana and the other girls. You do. And you deserve better than me, too. I can’t give you what you want and I’m not gonna lead you on. So, we should just cut our losses now, before one of us gets hurt. Whatever you’re in, fall out of it. It was actually rather nice hanging out with you, and thank you for looking after me at Rick’s party, even though I can’t remember most of it. You’re a good guy and you’ll find a good girl. You will.”

You left him standing in the parking lot as you weaved through the cars, feeling an awful lot like you just cut off a limb that had miraculously been growing back. Tears were prickling in your eyes when you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the crowd of students. You didn’t feel the butterflies anymore.

And you didn’t notice Heather, crouched behind the school bus when you passed by it in your hurry to get as much distance between you and Eddie as you could.

She stood up once you’d gone in, looking remorseful over something she had no control of and watched as Eddie stood there, staring at the entrance like he hoped you’d be coming right back out. When he realized you wouldn’t be, he shoved his hands in his pocket and walked over to his van, sitting on the back bumper.

Heather waited until he couldn’t see before she snuck back into the school. She couldn’t miss the test in her last class, but she knew what she had to do after and she knew where she’d be able to find Eddie when school let out.

─

Eddie was drained. Mentally, emotionally and physically ‘cause he hadn’t eaten anything during lunch. He ditched the remainder of the school day, wallowing in the back of his van, despite the rapidly dying high he was nursing, he hadn’t been hungry. Still wasn’t. 

He figured he wouldn’t be regaining his appetite with a stomach already full of defeat.

Just when he finally thought things were looking up for him, life had to remind him that he wasn’t allowed to be completely happy. Had to have some sort of angst in his life, because apparently his mommy, daddy, background, academic, and financial issues weren’t enough.

He wasn’t allowed to have you, either.

A couple of weeks ago, that would have been fine with him. He hadn’t known you too well. You’d had some classes together over the years, though he only realized you were pretty in English class last year. Caught glimpses of you out of the corner of his eye every now and then, it was no big deal. Then, it was like he opened his eyes or something, because you were suddenly everywhere. 

Never center stage, always in the background amongst the crowd but always drawing his attention, like a moth to a flame. His locker was across from yours and a couple of lockers down so he was usually able to overhear your conversations with your friends. He figured loud mouthed, know-it-all Heather Holloway was your best friend since she was more often than not on the other end of those conversations. 

You were pretty fucking funny, witty, goofy and cool. He wouldn't have minded actually getting the chance to know you, maybe be friends. You even seemed like the type who would appreciate Hellfire, could offer to show you the ropes and extend an invitation.

He wasn’t ignorant enough to think he was infatuated with you or anything, didn’t even know you. He was just intrigued and he happened to play close attention to details.

It would have been a passing fancy, really, had it not been for Reefer Rick’s party. Eddie had gone under the guise that it was to strengthen his business relationship with the supplier, and not at all because a girl he was interested in would be in attendance.

Of course (because he’s Eddie) she’d gone, alright, and had been all over another guy. 

He hadn’t been too hurt by that one, they hadn’t held any meaningful conversations and she seemed pretty flighty.

Then he caught sight of you, one of the many Ghostfaces—the shortest of them all—and when he actually saw you take off the mask, the allure returned. You’d shown up in the background of his life again. 

Eddie had watched you (from a safe distance) get progressively more drunk and he was honestly pretty impressed with how much it took to get there. If he wasn’t gonna be getting the girl at the party, maybe he could gain a new acquaintance. With that, he’d approached you. Or rather, you plowed into him.

Heather had apologized for you as they both worked to steady you while you rambled out your own apologies a mile a minute.

“Hey—no harm done.”  Eddie held his hands out as if to showcase he was fine. Then he realized his own mask was in the way of his vision and yanked it off, though he had suspected you wouldn’t know who he was.

“Eddie!” You chirped, pointing a gloved finger in his direction like he didn’t know who he was. “I’ve seen you before!”

He raised his eyebrows, bewildered at your admission.

“You have?” He had to lean in closer to make sure you heard him.

“Yeah! We go to school together.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, eyes flittering to Heather as she slowly pulled away from the conversation, leaving just you and Eddie amongst the loud music and compacted bodies.

“I think we go to school with most of the people here, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah.” He watched as you glanced around before shrugging.

 “But I don’t know a whole lot of them. Like that girl,” You pointed at a girl dressed like Molly Ringwald. “Never seen her in my life.”

“That’s—actually, I don’t know her either,” Eddie squinted as he tried to recall her from somewhere but he’d never seen her before either. “Maybe she doesn’t go to Hawkins.”

“Freaking knew it.” 

Eddie laughs again, he knew you’d be funny.

“Are you Michael Myers?” You asked and Eddie smirked.

“No, I’m Eddie Munson.”

You didn’t appreciate the joke, pinching his shoulder through his coveralls.

“Ouch! Yes, okay! I’m Michael,” He rubbed the not-really sore spot, still smirking.

“Hot?”

“Michael? I mean, he’s not really my type, I have no idea what he’s working with under the mask but he’s─”

“No!” Now you were the one laughing and Eddie’s heart kind of ached (in a good) way at the sound. He knew what that meant. “The mask, silly. Is the mask hot?”

“Oh, yeah. Kind of feel like the man in the iron mask with it on.” Precisely why Eddie probably wouldn’t be putting it back on. “What about yours?”

“It’s pretty breathable actually,” Lucky, yours had a mouth space made of mesh, allowing for some pretty easy airflow. “And it keeps my face warm.”

Yeah, but that meant Eddie couldn’t see it and he really, really wanted to. Up close.

“Plus, I feel mysterious.” You said it like it was something devious.

“Yeah? You like that?” Eddie was amused with the entire thing because you actually were mysterious, with and without the costume. To him, at least.

“Yeah, I mean I can be anywhere without actually being anywhere because people would have no clue it’s me, makes sense?”

No, but Eddie knew what you were tipsily implying.

“I get it.” 

“Oh,” you bent over, reaching down into your black boot as you pulled out a pocket knife and flicked the blade out. “I have a knife.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie grabbed it from you tucking the blade back in before he returned it, nervously looking around to make sure no one had noticed. “As hot as that is, you can’t just bring a knife to a party.”

“No, you can’t bring a knife to a gunfight.” You giggled, swaying in place.

Eddie rolled his eyes with a fond chuckle, “Damn, you’re still wrong. Don’t bring a gun to a knife fight.”

“Tomatoes, potatoes.”

“Those are also two very different things.” Were you always this adorable? 

“It’s for my protection. So if anyone tries anything, I’ll have my knife and I can stab them. Defend myself.” You tucked the pocket knife back into your boot, leaving Eddie curious as to why you didn’t seem to have any pockets under that black gown.

“So what? You just showing off for me?”

Your head bobbed, if Eddie could somehow see through your damn mask, he would’ve been enamored with the shy look on your face.

“Yeah, I mean—you look like you ‘preciate knives.”

“Oh, because I’m scary?” He got that a lot, didn’t mind the reputation at first because it kept people from messing with him but it also kept the good people from interacting with him. Not that he cared or anything.

Because he didn’t. 

“No, because you seem really cool. Look it, too. All metal-y. Suits you”

Oh fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You were nice, too. He was done for. 

He didn’t know what to say, a ‘thank you’ didn’t sound genuine enough for his liking. 

“I think you’re cool, too.”

You laughed again, threw your head back with it and Eddie wanted so badly to tear that mask and hood off your head. Needed to just get a look at you while you smiled.

“You don’t even know who I am.” You stated once you’d calmed down.

Eddie pursed his lips. He knew exactly who you were, he was also picking up on some major signs that you didn’t want him to know who you were under that mask, having realized you hadn’t bothered introducing yourself though you apparently felt comfortable enough to address him.

“You want to play a game?” He asked instead, not willing to risk souring your mood.

You gasped, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, “A game? I like games. What game?”

“It’s called, ‘Move a couple of things around so Rick thinks he’s going insane when he cleans up tomorrow’.”

“That sounds like a fun game. Let’s do it.”

You both proceed to make your way around the house, moving a couple of random objects.

You both hit his bedroom first (what kind of dumbass doesn’t lock it?), finding it thankfully unoccupied. It was shitty and small, but you both transferred everything to opposite sides, literally flipping the room. It took some work—Eddie moved the heavier of the objects and the bed was blocking Rick’s bathroom door but you were satisfied so the two of you moved onto the kitchen.

Heather came by to take you home in the middle of your planning for the area, but you insisted on staying with Eddie (he wanted to jump up and down, he was so happy and he’d promised to take care of you, something he’d planned on doing anyway but Heather was pretty fucking scary and had told him she’d hang him up like a scarecrow with his own intestines if anything happened to you).

There wasn’t much you could do with the space or the living room, given the amount of occupants, but you rearranged the inside of the fridge and bottom cabinets while Eddie tackled the drawers and top cabinets, making sure everything was where it wasn’t supposed to be.

After that, you headed outside. Then immediately went back inside when you realized how creepy the area looked.

The game and the alcohol took its toll on you and soon enough Eddie was watching over you as you curled up on the couch. He hadn’t immediately realized you fell asleep due to that goddamn mask, once he had, he’d kept everyone away from the couch. Didn’t even sleep. He only left you once to get some water and that had been when you chose to wake up. 

You’d sobered up, so he figured he could try his luck and you’d all but ran out of there when he started flirting with you. 

It stung but Eddie wasn’t ready to just give up yet. No, he couldn’t just lick his wounds and go home, he had to watch your every move the entire week after, look for dumb reasons to be in the same place as you (why the fuck did you hang out on the bleachers outside so much? It was fucking freezing) and trail after you like some pathetic dog. 

And you didn’t even throw him a bone. He’d seen you leave the cafeteria, sans Heather for once and tripped over himself in his haste to get to you.

Then you had to be completely wonderful, had offered to share your own weed with him and validated his feelings after constantly being used because he was stupid enough to trust girls who so much as smiled in his direction. 

He’d been stupid and hopeful enough to try his luck again and driven you away.

The mean girls didn’t want him, the nice girl didn’t want him, maybe he really was just destined to be on his own.

He had moved his wallowing to the bench in the woods behind the school (still had to work, regardless of how depressed he was) when Heather appeared, aggressively clearing her throat to announce her presence.

Eddie dropped his hand from his chin to deadpan in her direction, “You here to kick my ass?”

“No, I’m not here to kick your ass. I’m here to help you, Munson. She’ll kick my ass for telling you this, but I can see it’s different with you. It could be, so, listen up and listen good. Do you know Duncan Carson?”

—

You were getting ready for bed, having scrubbed your face clean of makeup and slipped into your pajamas (consisting of your christmas onesie from last year, a family tradition, since it was pretty chilly and your mom liked to freeze the entire house) when the sound of something hitting your bedroom window made you jump. You assumed some dumbass bird barreled into again until it happened once more. As you got up from your bed, slowly approaching the window, you could see a small object hit the glass. A pebble.

What the hell?You yanked the window open, barely managing to dodge the next pebble thrown at it. It knocked a glass on your dresser over instead.

“Oh, shit! My bad–did I hit you?” You leaned out the window pane to see Eddie standing outside, in your yard. He gave you a timid grin, quickly tossing the pebbles he collected out of his grasp.

“Eddie, what the hell are you doing here? How do you even know where I live–are you stalking me?” You didn’t bother answering his initial question.

He glared up at you, arms crossing at your implication. “No, I’m not stalking you! Can you please come down? I-I can’t climb up there. I tried.” It was only then that you noticed your neighbor's rose bush, which extended just below the low roof of your garage, had been trampled. “What do you want?”

Eddie groaned, “I’ll tell you when you come down here!” “That sounds like something a stalker would say to lure me out of my house.” “Oh my god, look–you’re really cute but I’m gonna need you to stop being a jerk and come talk to me. Please?” Your mouth dropped open and you knew you were doing exactly what he wanted when you yanked on your shoes and stormed out of your room (quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to not alert your parents). “What are you doing here and how did you know where I live?” You demanded the moment the front door closed behind you. Eddie had moved to stand directly on your porch so you had to usher him back a little to create some space between the two of you. “Heather gave me your address,” He rushed out, wanting to focus on why he actually came. “Why can’t we be together?” Heather? Heather?! You were going to kill her. Ring her little neck. “Just because she gave you my address doesn’t mean you show up in the middle of the night─”

“It’s 7:30, cute jammies, by the way.”

“—and demand I come speak to you! I already told you, I can’t give you what you want. You’re better off.”

“What about you?”

“What?”

“I said,” Eddie stepped closer, forcing you to take a step back, “what about you?”

You stuttered to find words, mouth open and closing as you started your sentence but were too dumbfounded by his question.

“Don’t you deserve better?” Eddie prompted, his voice gentle and gaze unwavering. “You do. You deserve better. Better than Duncan The Asshole Carson.”

Your eyes squeezed shut at the mention of your ex-something, trying to force the memories away. 

Fucking Heather.

Of course she didn't just give Eddie your address. She’d told him all about Duncan. A football player in your graduating class that had befriended you last spring. Unlike most of his teammates, he wasn’t a complete dick. He was funny, charming, sweet and things turned romantic. He’d hold your hand, kiss you, take you on dates and he’d even attended your powderpuff game toward the end of the school year. Life was bliss.

Until he asked you if you thought Heather would be interested in him. Your best fucking friend.

You’d been horrified and outraged that he’d even ask you that and he quickly got upset with you, arguing that the two of you hadn’t been in a relationship. You were just having fun. 

He hadn’t been interested in you, not genuinely. He’d been interested in the attention you gave him. All those months, all those moments. All fake and tainted. He’d used you to feel important, better about himself. And when he finally felt he was big enough, he’d dropped you. Let you fall.

You’d slapped the ego right out of him and ran off to some field outside of Hawkins. The dolt was stupid enough to try and approach Heather the same night. She’d also slapped the crap out of him and drove around town until she found you, crying your heart out in the middle of nowhere. Initially, she’d feared you’d be mad at her but you reassured her she wasn’t to blame. You were, for being stupid enough to fall in love. Heather tried to comfort you and convince you otherwise but you wouldn’t hear it.

You spent the entire summer broken and you thought you’d healed since, having promised to not put yourself in a situation where you could get hurt like that again, but here you were, the cracks in your heart still very much so apparent. 

“I’ll be fine on my own.” You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though you could see through the tears lining your own. You wouldn’t back down. Couldn’t. Not again. 

“Goodnight,” You turned to go back into your house when Eddie darted forward, grasping your wrist to keep you from leaving.

You glanced down at his hand then back up at him, sucking in a breath at the desperate glint in his eyes, brows pinched together in despair.

“The thing is, I can’t.” Eddie bit his lip, and you noticed the shine over his own eyes. “I can’t let you go. I could do it with the others, with Lana. I knew not to chase after them when they left. But I know I’ll regret it if I don’t chase you.

“You deserve someone who makes you feel special, someone who’d run across the school to get to your classes in time to walk you to the next, someone who will hold your hand and your backpack. Someone who wants to kiss you really, really badly. Like all the time. A-And hold you. Someone who wishes they’d talked to you a long time ago, could’ve kept a lot of heartache from happening. Someone who will help you rearrange another person’s house to prank them whenever you want. You said I deserve better than you but you’re wrong. You’re exactly what I deserve and I want to be what you deserve. I want to do it all, and only with you.”

“God, Eddie,” you wiped at the tears escaping your eyes with a sniffle, “Can you just stop? Stop saying nice things!”

“No. Never.” He used his hold on you to pull you closer and you didn’t fight him, didn’t push him away when his hands slipped to rest on your sides.

“What if this doesn’t work out? What if we get hurt?” You asked as Eddie leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m not stalker-ish enough to say I love you just yet, but I’m pretty sure I’m starting to, which means I’m probably gonna be the one that gets hurt. I’m willing to risk it if it means I get to have you, for even a little bit.”

You barely had to angle your head to kiss him. Eddie moved a hand to the side of your neck as his lips moved softly against yours, rings cool against your skin. He pulled away, just to get a glimpse of your reaction. When he saw no hesitancy, no traces of doubt in your eyes he leaned in for another taste, mouth pressing eagerly against yours. Your tongue licked at the seam of his lips and they parted for you, tongues finally meeting. 

Eddie pulled you flush up against him as you made out under the hazy glow of your porch light. The butterflies in your stomach had been revived, every single one of them was a flutter and all you could feel was bliss as the cracks in your heart faded away. 

Eddie pulled away again, panting out, “I just gotta make sure, does this mean you’re my girlfriend? Do you want me to ask? I can—fuck, no, you deserve to be asked.” 

Then he got down on one knee and you covered your eyes, grinning despite the slight embarrassment coursing through you. It was a good kind of embarrassing. The best.

“Will you be my girlfriend? Like exclusively, as in you can only do this mushy shit with me.”

“You’re so romantic,” you laughed out, still sniffling, “yes, I would love to be your girlfriend.”

Eddie cheered, leaping back to his feet. His arms wrapped around your waist as he hoisted you into the air and spun you around. You clung to him, squealing in surprise. Your shared laughter echoed down the street before it was once more silent as you kissed him.

The next day when you pulled into the school parking lot, Eddie was waiting for you, leaning up against his van.

He practically bounded over to you, pulling your lavender backpack out of your grasp, before you could stop him he’d slipped his arm through the strap and slung it onto his back, the other hand outstretched to you.

“Ready?”

You slipped your hand into his and used it to yank him closer to you. He made a sound of surprise but smirked when you pulled him down for a hungry kiss in the crowded parking lot.

It definitely caught some attention, you both smiled against each other’s lips when you heard Heather whoop in the background.

“YEAH, GET IT! GO MUNSON!”

Eddie laughed when you pulled away, giving Heather a thumbs up before he intertwined your fingers and led you into the school, flipping off a stupefied Duncan Carson on the way and you gave Lana a look as you passed her locker, happy she’d fucked up with Eddie so he was yours for the taking. You planned on keeping him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joe quinn x reader

[gemini-sensei]

Part Two of this Post - inspired by @sensei-venus CW: angst, bully targeting weight and body image, slapping, and crying.

What if after thinking about her best friends (secret crushes) so much, Reader can't finish the movie. But instead of dragging herself to her room, she decides to go to the party. She knows where it's being held, it isn't that far from her house. She's still in her costume...

Before much more thought can be put into the idea, she finds herself walking down the street. She's three houses down when she hears the music and sees all of the cars lining the road.

There are people in costumes coming in and out of the place, laughing and drinking and having a good time. No one questions her as she makes her way up to the door or when she walks inside. She wasn't invited but no one stops her from joining. It's loud and there are lights flashing and people dancing. The house itself is already a wreck, but no one cares. Everyone is having fun.

She mills around the place, seeing people she recognizes and others she doesn't. Kids from other schools have shown up to drink and eat food and hook up with people. That's what parties are for, right? So what the Hell am I doing here?

It isn't long before someone in a devil's mask stops her. He jumps out and scares her, laughing at her reaction. She tries to shrug it off with a scoff, but the guy is jeering at her. And she knows that voice. It's tormented her for years.

Kyler lifts the mask and laughs in her face. He points at her. "Ay yo, you shoulda seen the look on your face! You looked like you were about to shit yourself!"

"You're so gross," she tells him, shaking her head. She tries to walk around him so she can ignore him for the rest of the party - she might just go home. But he stops her by blocking her path.

"Hey, wait wait wait, what are you supposed to be, a witch?" he asked, checking out her outfit. He snickers and she knows an insult is coming. "More like a fat bitch!"

It shouldn't hurt anymore, she's been through it a million times before. At least that's what she thinks, that she shouldn't be affected by it anymore, but the tears spring up anyway. She tries to wipe them away before Kyler can see them, but he does and he starts laughing.

"Aw, c'mon don't be a baby, Reader. You're always so soft," he mocked, poking her doughy stomach. She recoils from him, but he just keeps jeering her, tormenting her like the perpetual child that he was. "Y'know, if you lost some weight you might look half decent. I might even sleep if you."

She let out a wretched noise between a scoff and a sob. "Is that supposed to be some kind of compliment?"

"You should want to sleep with me," he says smugly. "No one else is going to want to since you're such a pig."

She slaps him across the face, fed up with his bullshit. She cries hard, letting out the pain and frustration. As he holds his cheek and looks up at her, she backhands him to get a good hit on his other cheek. One of the rings she wore to go with her costume caught his skin and cut his face, a little blood trickling down his cheek.

"Go fuck yourself," she spit at him and turned to leave.

People who just witnessed the awful things he said to her and her retaliation move out of her way. No one offers to drive her home, only watching the tears streak down her face. It only makes her feel worse, opening her eyes to the fact that she actually came to the party friendless and alone. It sucks.

She gets halfway across the lawn when she hears someone running after her. "Reader! Wait!"

She doesn't know why she stops, but she does. She turns to find another masked figure following her. He's wearing a Jason Voorhees costume and carrying a prop machete. It's dark in front of the house, with all of the lights and action going on inside or in the backyard and anyone else would have a problem seeing who it is.

He stops in front of her.

"What do you want, Eli?"

"How'd you know it was me?" he asks, pulling the mask up. He looks at her tear-streaked and sad face.

She gestures to his costume. "You have a pattern with Halloween costumes. I didn't expect you to stray away from that. It doesn't matter, though. You can go back to your party."

She turns to leave, but he takes her hand into his, stopping her.

"You don't have to leave. You-"

"No, no it's fine. I don't even know why I came to this stupid party." She pulls her hand away from him. She wipes her eyes but the tears keep falling. "I don't know what I expected. This isn't some stupid movie where I can come to a cool party and things get magically fixed between us. So I'm going home. Don't stop me."

And he doesn't. He watched her walk down the sidewalk, unsure of what to do. He feels the tear in his heart reopen, or maybe it had never healed at all, but he can't deny how much he misses her. He slips his mask back down and hides the tear that falls down his cheek.

Reader cries on the walk home, pushing herself into her house when she arrives. She breaks down, running up to her room to hide from the world.

Maybe she should have just gone to bed to begin with...

#eli hawk moskowitz #hawk moskowitz x reader #hawk moskowitz x chubby reader #hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz x chubby reader #demetri alexopoulos #demetri alexopoulos x reader #demetri alexopoulos x chubby reader #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #cw bullying #cw angst #cw crying #gemini sensei

[unsentlettersforpalestine]

Friday, April 12, 2024

To you, fellow human

What time did you get up? Did you get enough sleep? How was your morning? What did you have for breakfast? You took shower with clean water, didn't you? Did you hear some birds chirping ? The morning breeze was certainly very tranquilizing, wasn't it? You were able to do your morning routine without any hindrance, right? There might be some inconveniences during the day but overall it's been quite a good day, right?

While you are spending your day with your family, relatives, friends, coworkers, clients, neighbors, strangers, or even only by yourself, don't forget to take some time alone to express gratitude. Contemplate about all the blessings God has given to you. Realize that you are living a damn good life. Make no mistake, I am not trying to belittle your problems or the shit you've been dealing with, but trust me when I say: you're lucky. Because you really are.

You might unintentionally come up with some grievances about your life every now and then, but be brutally honest and tell me, on a scale from one to ten, how much you are grateful for your life? Five? Six? Seven? Eight? If your answer is under 5, then I am begging you, please, sit down for a couple of minutes and listen to me.

I know we all have our own problems—both major and minor. But tell me, has someone ever bombed your house? Have you ever felt afraid of being kidnapped or ruthlessly tortured or sexually assaulted or shot at? Have you ever lost a bunch of family members and relatives and neighbors and friends at the same time? Do you, by any chance, know what it feels to experience forced starvation not for a day, not for a week, but for a really long period of time? Have you ever ran out of water, electricity, and fuel for months? The answer for all these questions is a clear no, right?

You are lucky. I am lucky. We are all lucky. Because despite everything, we are living a decent life. We have all that we need (or most of what we need or whatever) and we have never gone through what Palestinians have been going through for more than 75 years. Even the biggest ordeal that we ever went through is nothing compared to what Palestinians are constantly going through.

Some of us might complain about the same/ similar menu we have on a regular basis, don't we ever realize what a luxury it is have enough foor and be able to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner every day? Palestinians are literally being starved to death by Israshit and some of them don't even have a small bag of flour to make simple bread and look at us, here we are shamelessly throwing our foods away. Palestinians feel happiest when they can get a bag of flour and a glass of drinkable water but here, we are constantly grousing over trivial matters—be it intentionally or unintentionally.

It's worth nothing that regardless of what our respective life looks like, we are all privileged. Because unlike Palestinians, we are living a pretty decent life. We are never living under continual brutal occupation. We are not being massacred. We are never going through a fucking genocide. We are safe. We are good, we truly are.

Just a friendly reminder that as a human being, we have a duty to bear witness, be in solidarity and support Palestinians in any shape or form. I am not asking you to ceaselessly watch harrowing pictures and videos coming out of Palestine. I am simply asking you to have some sympathy with them. Do something, anything, to help them. Use the voice that has been bestowed upon by God for you. Spread awareness. Educate yourself and the people around you about Palestinian cause. Go to the nearby protests if you can. Have uncomfortable conversations with both friends and strangers. Don't stop talking about Palestine. Always remember Palestinians in your day-to-day life. And most importantly, keep making prayer for them.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

#free gaza #free palestine #gaza #palestine #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #i stand with palestine #stop the genocide #israel is a genocidal state #israel is committing genocide #israel is an apartheid state #israel is a terrorist state #fuck israel #deep feelings #deep thoughts #life quotes #love quotes #love #life #poems and quotes #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

[fishedeyelenz]

Billy Lenz headcanons

Fuck it, it's 1AM, I don't want to go to sleep, let's overthink this dumb attic man. Most of these are from the vault I use for reference when writting for him

Generally has a very musky, dusty scent to him. He likes feeling clean, though he has trouble keeping up with his hygiene. He bathes when he can/remembers, but most of the time he will be smelling of sweat, dust, mildew and sometimes cat food. So best case scenario -he smells like an old man. Worst case scenario -he smells like something died in a bowl of cat kibble.

Has very chapped lips, chews on them out of nervous habbit. I'd a bit better with keeping up with his dental hygiene, but it can happen that he forgets to brush his teeth for a day or two. His teeth are naturally kinda yellowish though. Has a gap between his two front teeth.

Has a staring problem (no shocker there) he has very wide hazel eyes which have an ability creep people out even in normal circumstances.

Likes to keep his hair relatively longer, going under his chin to shoulder length. Likes playing with his hair, twirling it and scratching his scalp to calm himself down. Doesn't like it too long though, it irritates him when he has hair brushing over his back. Has soft curly hair, thick but most of the time it's greasy and tangled and matted up like a rats nest. Can clean up nicely though.

Has a decent amount of body hair, and has a very patchy stubble. He shaves with stolen razors, so he probably doesn't have the sharpest materials to work with. He does have sideburns though, which he likes to take care of

His green sweater is his comfort item, and he has a very hard time parting with it, even when it reeks like something died in it. Probably buys multiple pairs of the greens sweater if/when he has the means for it.

Near constantly has a cold, doesn't layer up at all when the weather gets cooler. His hands are cold and dry. If he's lucky he has an absolutely damp and snot-filled handkerchief in his pocket, but he usually wipes his nose into his sleeves. He's fucking gross like that.

Drools a lot, spits while he talks, most likely has some disorder that makes him salivate in large quantities, but he isn’t gonna get it checked out.

Is afraid of needles, doctors and dentists. just being in a hospital-like environment makes him anxious, it reminds him too much about his stints in psych wards and asylums. Doesn't like receiving any sort of injections. Dislikes taking pills as well, but he can put up with that at least.

Very messy eater, not only chewing really loudly, he also manages to spill just about everything over himself. Can cook simple meals, and can help assist in making more complicated meals, but the process will be messy. Most of the time he is not capable of cooking, and so he steals food from the residence he is squatting in. Doesn’t eat a lot when in survival mode, but if he's in an environment he is comfortable with/is being taken care of, he will eat ravenously and a lot too. Has a fast metabolism when he's young, so he doesn’t put on that much weight, but when he starts approaching middle age it will slow down. In his forties he will develop a dad bod if his circumstances allow (DILF Billy supremacy).

Sensitive to light, prefers being in the dark. The darkness is safer and familiar to him, he feels very exposed in light and open spaces. Also prefers stuffier and more claustrophobic environments, and he most likely has mild agoraphobia. Lights also sometimes hurt his eyes as well.

Sensitive to loud noises, ironically enough. Is easily overwhelmed in noisy environments. Likes to repeat things he hears, very good at voice mimicry, likes words with pronounced "t" sounds in them. Has echolocalia.

If he weren’t an unstable murderer I could see him becoming an actor or a voice actor. Depends if he wants to be seen or not, because I think he would gladly take on roles on TV if they wouldn’t credit him. This man craves attention but is at the same time afraid of receiving it lol. Attention can overwhelm him easily. Could see him becoming a theater actor as well.

Has a big oral fixation problem. Chews on zippers of his jackets, pencil tips and just about anything he could stick in his mouth. Chews on his nails and bites down on his fingers when he's nervous/thinking.

Also stims with his hands, claps when he's excited. Imitates playing a piano when listening to music. Twirls his hair, fidgets with loose threads of his sweater. Sadly when he's overwhelmed/having a meltdown he grips and pulls on his hair, sometimes punching the sides of his head. Likes to rock himself as well.

Near sighted and in desperate need of glasses, but he doesn’t particularly like wearing them and continuously loses them. Needs them only for reading, but as he grows older his vision will get worse and he will have to get a standard pair. He thinks he looks like a nerd when he wears them-he is right (🤓<-Billy)

Loves movies, loves Kubric especially, but watching a film with him can be a grueling experience if you don’t enjoy somebody talking over and narrating the whole film. Especially if there's food like popcorn involved, he will talk with his mouth full, chewing loudly.

Has a sweet tooth. Will eat just about any cakes, candies, treats and fruits. Loves strawberries in particular.

Can't stand cigarette smoke and alcohol. Is very judgmental of people who partake in them. Is kinda a judgmental and mean person in general lol.

I’m sorry folks but this man does not like Christmas lol. Probably has some very bad memories related to the holiday that cause him to burst mentally during that time. Doesn’t care for other Holidays either, except for maybe Valentine's day if he happens to have an object of affection at the moment.

Has eaten cat food

Raised rats as pets before he stole Claude for himself, who proceeded to eat all of them.

#billy lenz #Billy lenz headcanons #Writing #Headcanons #Might make a part two if I think of more #gif is not mine #animal death #Just in case

[doctordaddy31415]

Saturdays are special. You and I, we call it sun dress saturdays.

My rule is that on Saturdays you are not allowed to wear panties. You are also not allowed to wear any kind of pants or shorts. You may wear sundresses or short skirts.

Regardless of whether you are at home or not, you will not wear panties or pants.

You see, Saturday is my day to unwind from a long week. Saturday is my day to use your pussy any time, any way I please. We can't have pants or panties inconveniencing me.

You and I will just be going about our day doing whatever we normally do. Maybe you are cooking up some eggs and bacon for breakfast. If course you look pretty in that little sundress. I'll come up behind you and hug you, kissing your neck, and put my hands between your legs to touch your pretty pussy just because I feel like it. Then I'll go back to what I'm doing.

Later we go out to lunch at the cute beach bar by our house. As we are sitting next to each other, naturally I put my hand in your thigh under the table. Lucky for me, there's nothing stopping me from moving my hand up your thigh, pushing your dress up, and just leaving my hands there. Grasping your thigh, touching your pussy. I love knowing that I'm making you horny in public. But you have to behave. You have to sit there politely and pretend we are just sitting here like any decent couple. I love feeling your pussy get all hot and wet while we're waiting for our food.

Yes my cock is going inside that wet, warm, yummy pussy. But not just yet.

After i remove my hand from between your legs to eat my food, I leave your dress hiked up high around your thighs.

I tell you to eat up and enjoy the food, knowing that if someone looked over at us, they just might get a glimpse of your pretty little pussy under the table.

After we get back home, I sit down at my desk to play my video games. But the game takes a minute to load, so I tell you to come here and stand in front of me. I tell you to pull up your sundress so I can see your pussy. As you stand there in front of me holding your dress up, I place my hands between your legs again and just slide my finger inside your wet yummy hole. But then the game finishes loading so turn to play my game.

You start to put your dress down because you think I'm done with you.

"Did I say you could put your dress down baby girl??"

*No Daddy you didn't."

"Then pull it back up and don't move until I say you can."

You stand there like the good girl you are, holding your dress up, your pussy right next to my face as I'm playing my video game. Giving me your pussy for my viewing pleasure whenever I want. You know that your pussy is mine.

It is sundress saturday after all.

After playing a couple games like this, with your pussy waiting right next to me, I order you to bend over next to me. "Grab your ankles" I order.

You know me well enough to know this means you are about to get fucked.

I make you wait, pussy still exposed as you hold your ankles. I play another round on my game.

"You've been such a good girl today and Daddy is happy with you. Baby girl deserves a reward."

I lean over and give your pussy a kiss and a lick. It's so wet and warm and delicious I just can't help myself any more. I stand up, drop my pants while standing behind you.

I tell you not to let go of your ankles no matter what. You know me well enough to know this means I'm going to pound you hard and long.

After I'm finished pounding you, I tell you to stand up. I grab you by the hand and lead you to the bed. I tell you that I'm tired now and you are going to take a nap with me.

As I lay down I pull you down next to me and wrap my arms around you. You're my little spoon.

As I'm holding you, I just slip my cock inside your still wet pussy and drift off to sleep. You can keep my cock warm while I nap.

You know that you're a good girl, and Daddy loves his good girl.

It's just another Sundress Saturday.