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strawberryspence · 2 years

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i am in a very emo mood right now so here’s a disclaimer: i cried writing this and its very long.

Steve and Eddie have been together for seventeen years now. Both are very happy with their relationship, they’ve been engaged since they were twenty three and they haven’t looked back since. Gay marriage is legal by then in some parts of the country but not in Illinois (They’ve been living in Chicago since ‘87 when Robin started college and Steve packed up all of their stuff to follow her.) It’s not something they actively seek out, because would marriage really change anything in their relationship? They already refer to each other as husbands and they already wear wedding bands.

But kids. God, Eddie never really thought he would want kids. He grew up in an abusive environment that made him hate the prospect of procreating. At the age of thirteen, he realized he was gay and yeah, that was it, he won’t have kids, ever. But when he met Steve, Steve already had seven kids under his arms. Everyone knew about the six nuggets dreams and it’s always been a source of insecurity from Eddie, but Steve has been adamant that he didn’t need those things, he only needed Eddie. He jokes around about it, “I already have seven kids, okay? Eight if you add Robin.”

‘99 brings the first member of the Party 2.0. It’s Max and Lucas, of course, and though it was a long road to it, they made it. Max and Lucas are the two that moved out to California for college, but then moved back to Chicago to stay close to them. Eddie thinks it’s an unspoken agreement between Steve and Max, siblings bonded by trauma and love. They got married around ‘95, just a few months after Max and Lucas graduated college. Four years later, Eddie won’t ever forget Steve’s shaking hands when Max hands him Eleanor May Sinclair for the first time, her little tiny hands holding onto his finger as Lucas tells him that he was going to be the godfather. Steve smiles down at the tiny little red head, with her father’s eyes and her mother’s freckles and promises, “I am going to spoil you rotten, you’re going to hate it.”

‘01 brings the second member of the Party 2.0. It’s Jonathan and Nancy, who didn’t get married until around ‘98 because they were both too focused in their blooming careers. By then everyone had bets on how much longer before the two finally give in and get married, Argyle wins the biggest money and they still think there has been some kind of cheating. It’s a cold winter night when Nancy goes into labor. Steve and Eddie (with Robin, Max, Lucas and Ellie) takes the next flight to New York from the moment Jonathan called them that Nancy’s going into labor. Robin’s hailed as the godmother, because the skittle six all stayed close friends but there has always been some kind of women solidarity between Nancy and Robin. Eddie has to hold Steve’s hand when he starts crying when Nancy tells them her name, Barbara Arya Wheeler-Hopper. Nancy smiles at him, eyes glassy from exhaustion and emotions, as Steve holds her for the first time, voice shaking as he finally meets her, “Hi Barb.”

In the same year, the third member of the Party 2.0 is born. It’s Dustin and Suzie. That one was a looong story. After the Vecna fiasco of Spring and Fall of ‘86 (where they finally killed Vecna and closed the Upside Down for good), Suzie and Dustin broke up due to some miscommunications and because her father has been much more stricter after the Cali gang's visit. By chance, they meet again in MIT in ‘89 and remained friends for another two years (In Steve and Eddie’s dismay this led to long hours of telephone calls from Dustin pining over his ex-girlfriend-now-turned-bestfriend) before they finally got their act together when Dustin drunkenly proposes to Suzie (they don’t get married until ‘96). Steve and Eddie has come down to California about a week before Suzie’s expected labor day for moral support and just to help. Suzie goes into labor in a grocery store with Steve, while they were out buying peppers to induce labor. Steve has to drive them frantically to the hospital while a chill Suzie drinks her strawberry milkshake in the passenger seat. After 36 hours of labor, Edward Stephen Henderson was born. Eddie’s the one who cries more when Dustin announces the name, he’s also the first one in the party to hold the newborn. Eddie smiles down at Edward, laughing as he looks up at Steve, “I will do everything in my power so that you won’t end up with your father’s ego.” Cue Dustin’s protests in the back and Suzie laughing so hard she pops a stitch. Steve’s hand on his waist doesn’t leave even for a moment the whole night.

By ‘02 Max is pregnant again, Robin and Vickie’s adoption papers were processing and El’s been looking into Artificial Insemination. Will and Mike are the only two who doesn’t seem interested in having kids and are happy to just be the gay uncles that shower the kids with expensive ass gifts.

Steve’s hiding it well, Eddie will give that to him. Steve’s always been good with kids, always had that glow whenever he's around them and there is no doubt in Eddie's mind that his husband will be a wonderful, amazing father. It also helps mask the baby fever he’s had for about four years now since Ellie was born. Eddie doesn’t miss the melancholic looks he gets when it's time for Max to take Ellie home or the look he gets when they visit Barb and they have to say goodbye to her big brown eyes. Eddie knows his husband has wanted kids for as long as the’ve been together, but doesn’t say anything for his sake. So he takes a long look at his life. Does he want kids? Does he want to come home with kids in the house? Could he ever be even a sliver of the father that Steve was born to be? Would he be anything like his biological father?

He calls Wayne, talks to him for hours about every fear and doubt he has. He loves Steve so much and it hurts him to not be able to give this to him just because he’s being a coward again. Wayne soothes every shaking nerve in his body, and Eddie thinks, he’ll be fine. He’ll be fine because he wasn’t raised by John Munson, he was raised by Wayne Munson.

He’s done so much research about gay adoption that he has to hide the thick folder under a loose floor in their shared office, just so Steve can’t find it. He wants to be ready for this before he talks to Steve about it and by Christmas ‘02, he’s ready.

Its the quiet lull just before Christmas. The tree is decked out with numerous gifts, the house full of fairy lights (fairy lights they made sure would never blink), outside it just started snowing. In 24 hours, the house would be full with their family coming from different states to celebrate the holiday with them. Steve's wrapping the last few gifts, hot choco on his side when Eddie sits across him on the floor, handing him the thick folder.

Steve opens the folder with a bewildered look, his face shifting to shock in seconds. Steve looks up at Eddie with teary eyes, "Before you say that you don't need kids because I don't want kids, hear me out, okay?" Eddie reaches out for his hand, "I do want kids. I want kids with you. I've had kids with you since '86 when Dustin and Max decided to look for me. I've always wanted kids with you. I was... I was just scared that I'd end up like my dad, you know?" Steve sighs, hand tightening in his grasp, "Eds."

Eddie shakes his head, "Wait, I am not done. I talked to Wayne, you know? And I thought about it and I want kids with you, Steve Harrington. In any shape or form. If you don't want it right now, we can put a pin on it and if you tell me you never want it, then we forget this conversation ever happened. We could adopt, we could get a surrogate, hell, if I can get pregnant I will do it, sweetheart. I want a kid that's half you and half me and that might not ever be possible but we can raise and love a kid together and that'll be just as good." Steve's smiling now, tears still flowing from his face as Eddie cups his face, using his thumbs to swipe away the tears.

"So what do you want, baby?" Eddie smiles as Steve starts laughs, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I want a kid with you. Fucking hell, Eds." Steve hops up, tackling Eddie into a hug and showering him with kisses. They stay like that for an hour, just soaking in the pure adoration and love they feel for each other.

It's not until October '05 that their kid comes home. Elijah Syl Harrington-Munson was a 6 month old boy. Steve cries the first time he holds him as Eddie embraces him, Elijah holding his index finger in his tiny palm.

"Stevie, he has your hair." Eddie comments and there's no hint of joke or trick in his voice, just full of awe and Steve just cries even more.

When Elijah finally opens his eyes, Steve can't help the tenderness that bursts through him, "Eddie, Eds, he has your eyes."

Elijah's not a Harrington-Munson in blood, but he's Steve and Eddie's son through and through. And yeah, Elijah grows to have the same brunette wavy hair, styled just like his Dad's and the same brown doe eyes just like his Pa's. Sometimes, he sits in the living room as he reads a thick book with a basketball game playing on the background, Steve and Eddie thinks he's always meant to be theirs.

They adopt more kids. Not six because fuck no. But they do have their three nuggets, half Steve Harrington and half Eddie Munson and he won't ever have it any other way.

#and they lived happily ever after #i cried writing this #the harrington-munson show sounds like a sitcom that i would 100% watch #i love my dads #steddie rants #daeheadcanons #steddie fanfic #steddie headcanon #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson fluff

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onstrangerthighs · 1 year

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The Ugly Truth

Despite wishing her mother good night thirty minutes ago, Nancy’s eyes refuse to shut. Whenever she starts to drift off, she sees Barb crawling out from underground to blame her for what happened that night. Nancy would argue her case, but there’s no defense. She failed her friend. Barb hadn’t even wanted to go along in the first place!

I’m going insane just lying here. Maybe some warm milk will calm me down.

She passes the bathroom on the way to the stairs. Mom’s not in the tub? I didn’t hear the water go off. Huh.

The front door is open, and there’s the boy from Tina’s party who came speeding into Hawkins High School’s parking lot with his car radio on full blast. The boy Steve keeps staring at like a stunned fish. She’s shit with remembering names. Ben… something?

Curiosity gets the better of her. She stays very still on the second step, ears and eyes peeled.

Mom answered the door in her bathrobe? Nancy shifts her attention to Ben- no Billy, his name’s Billy. He seems… tense. Fidgety.

“I’m Nancy’s mother.”

“No.”

For some reason, Billy saying that in a clearly sarcastic tone makes her mother twirl her hair and giggle, “Yes” like a schoolgirl with a crush.

You’ve never acted this way with Dad.

“Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Um, I’m sorry, and you are?”

“Billy. Billy Hargrove.” He extends a hand for her to shake, and when she does, he puts his other hand over hers.

What the fuck is happening? Why aren’t you pulling away?

“You must be here for Nancy.”

“Nancy? No, no, no.”

One no would’ve done the trick.

“Not my type.”

Nancy snorts into her hand.

“Uh… No, actually I am looking for my little sister Max. Goes by Maxine. She’s been missing all day, and, uh, to be honest with you, I’ve been worried sick, you know, so…”

“Oh.”

You sound almost… disappointed. Why would you be, unless… No. Surely not.

“I thought she was at Lucas’, but Mrs. Sinclair said your house is the…the designated hangout, so, you know… Here I am.”

This has got to be the worst pretend pickup line I’ve ever heard. He’s got no interest in you, Mom. You know that, don’t you?

Billy comes in, and if he notices Nancy lurking at the top of the stairs as he goes into the kitchen, he doesn’t say anything.

“Their driveway is pretty dark this time of night,” Mom says, scribbling down an address for him. “So drive slowly.”

“Always.” He pockets the address and takes an extra bitter oatmeal cookie for the road.

Under the kitchen light, her mother dies, and all she sees is Karen Wheeler biting her bottom lip as she watches him walk away, her eyes glued to his ass.

Nancy doesn’t remember when her gun appeared in her hands, but her brain is surprisingly clear when she pulls the trigger. A bullet goes right between Karen’s eyes.

Killing people is surprisingly easy when you see who they really are.

Billy lies flat on the floor, hands cupped over his ears.

“I’m not going to shoot you.”

“You killed… your mother. God, Hicktown is fuckin’ crazy!”

Boy, he really catches on quick.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Nancy steps over Karen’s body and dials the number of Hopper’s secretary. She’s more likely to pick up than the Chief himself. “Hi, this is Nancy Wheeler. I need to talk to Chief Hopper. It’s important.”

She hears a grunt, and prepares the crocodile tears. Billy stares at her with a mix of awe and horror as her lower lip begins to tremble. “My mother st-started acting really strange. She turned the air conditioner down because she “liked it cold”. She-she loved the house being warm. Her voice came out all-all deep and empty. I looked into her eyes, and I knew my mother wasn’t…” she takes a shaky breath for added effect, then continues, “I knew she was gone. So I… I shot her. I don’t want to go to jail! I’m so scared, Chief.”

“You did the right thing, calling me. I’ll stop by your house and take care of things, okay? Do you have anywhere else to go tonight?”

“I’m not sure. I-”

Billy’s not on the floor anymore. His headlights are on. Crap.

I need to make sure he knows not to say anything.

Nancy gets into the passenger seat and he sends her a dirty look.

“You should really start locking your doors. It’s a safety precaution.”

“... I will keep that in mind. Now get out of my car.”

“You said you were looking for your sister, right?”

“She’s not my sister.”

“But you said-” “I know what I said. Look, I’d prefer to forget everything said and done in your freakshow house, Wheeler.”

“Nancy.”

“Fine. Nancy.”

“I know where Max is.”

“I’m not giving you shit in exchange for that information.”

“Well I should hope not.” Has this sort of thing happened to him before?

“I know how to keep a secret. I just… why did you do it?”

“We were always arguing. She never heard me. What pushed me over the edge was how she was with you. It made me want to puke. She should’ve stuck to her own age group.”

Billy goes eerily quiet, hands gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. His shoulders slacken, and he unclenches his jaw to offer her a weary, appreciative smile.

“Max is at the Byers’ house. Mike’s there, too. I can’t take him back to that house. He didn’t know… I don’t suppose you have room where you live?” Billy tenses up again.

She takes that as a no.”

“I’ll be your guide to the Byers’. I’m sure Mrs. Byers wouldn’t mind us staying over.”

He gives her a terse nod.

“Us includes you, Bonnie.”

Billy blinks several times, temporarily breaking out of his grim state. “Bonnie? Hold on, why the fuck am I not Clyde? Clyde’s a man.”

Nancy lets out a long sigh. “Do you actually care about that crap?”

“... No. I don’t,” he admits. “Bonnie has better hair anyway, so it fits.”

“You think you’re funny, huh.”

“I think I’m a fucking riot.”

“Humor is subjective.”

“It was your joke!”

****** “Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

Okay, now I wish I’d shot myself instead.

“Nancy???” Steve exclaims, dragging his eyes away from Billy’s chest.

So that’s why Billy took his jacket off.

She snickers, shaking her head. Steve Alexander Harrington, you haven’t changed one bit.

Billy seems to be glowing from Steve’s attention. Dorks.

“What’re you doing here, amigo?”

“Yeah, I could ask you the same thing, amigo.”

Oh, Steve, you’re not fooling anyone.

“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

Nancy awkwardly waves. I doubt they’re even aware I exist.

“Huh. That’s weird. I don’t know her.”

“Small, redhead, bit of a bitch?”

“I heard that!” a girl yells from inside the house.

“I wanted you to!”

“You guys are going to wake up the whole neighborhood!” Nancy yells.

“I think we’re a little quieter than a gu- guy who’s bangin’ his wife.”

“Are you two… friends or something?” Steve says, squinting like he’s come face to face with an impossible math problem.

“Amigos in crime.”

“You didn’t tell him any embarrassing stories about me, did you? Nance?”

“Stories? What stories?”

“It’s a school night. We should all head inside and get some rest.”

“Nance!”

“Shut up, Steve.”

“Yeah, shut up, Pretty Boy.”

“Keep the flirting to a minimum, there are children present.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “WHAT? FLIRTING?”

Billy cackles, slapping his knee, his face matching the color of his shirt.

New hobby unlocked.

*****

“Does Mrs. Byers have any grub around here? I’m gonna check the fridge.”

“Billy, I wouldn’t do that if I were you-"

“WHAT THE FUCK-”

#nancy wheeler #billy hargrove #fix it fic #nancy & billy #harringrove #steve harrington #my writing #unedited #tw karen wheeler #billy hargrove deserved better

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zerokrox-blog · 1 year

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Sinclair's adopt Steve

this is a a part of the Sinclair's adopt Steve fic I am writing, I needed to write this out so I did. Enjoy this snippet. (Also if anyone has that post about Jim and Joyce not really liking Steve please send it to me so I can link it here. I can't find it anymore ;( and I know I had it saved somewhere.)

It's the awkward comment that causes Joyce and Hopper to realize they're not as discreet as they thought. The older kids aside from Steve are hanging out at the Hopper-Byers. The kids were at the Wheeler's house for a sleepover and Hop had allowed Jane to join because both parents were home and Vecna was dead, so it would be fine. Sue and Charles Sinclair, Claudia Henderson and Wayne Munson, Joyce and Jim Hopper-Byers, Jonathan Byers, Argyle, Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson, and Robin Buckley were sitting around the table talking, catching up.

Mid conversation Sue's phone rang loudly. She glanced down and answered her cell.

“Hey baby. Is everything-” her voice cut off. She listened intently to the person on the other end. She nodded, she turned to her husband, “one second baby ok?” Sue turned to Charles, and put the call on hold.

“Steve needs to be picked up, his car broke down, and he just got it towed. He's at Rodney's. Can you get him?”

Charles paused, thinking, “yes I should be able to get him, I'd have to get gas but I'll have my phone on, I'll be there in forty to forty-five minutes.”

Sue nodded and relayed the information to Steve before hanging up. As she hung up she glanced up and noticed the barely held expressions on Jim Hopper’s face as well as Joyce Byers. Jim looked annoyed, and Joyce looked mildly disgusted. Sue didn’t want to say anything, and she didn’t have to because Joyce’s son Jonathon did.

“Mom,” his voice was calm but there was something else hidden in his tone, an anger Sue wasn’t expecting. “why do you and Hop look annoyed or angry everytime Steve is mentioned or brought up in a conversation or over at our house?”

Joyce blinked in shock, “oh I was thinking about something. It’s ok dear,”

Jim snorted and gave her a look. But Jonathon persisted, “No mom I know you and I know the faces you make. What is your problem with Steve? He’s a good guy mom.”

Charles quietly slipped out of the room, he had someone to pick up. Sue caught his eyes as he was leaving and gave him a look, he mouthed a simple, “I’ll bring him home to ours and stay with him. Call me if you need.” she gave him a nod and turned back to the conversation.

Jim and Joyce seemed to be communicating silently and finally Joyce turned to her son and stated, “I don’t like that he made you fight. You have never been an angry kid ever and he made you fight, he got into trouble and he never really apologized for it, honey that’s all.”

Jonathan looked at his mother in shock. And before anyone could say anything else Jim added, “besides he is a troublemaker. He got into fights and had a lot of parties. Do you know many noise complaints I had to deal with at the Harrington house? The fact that his parents didn’t instill in him any manners is not-”

Jim was cut off by Nancy’s sharp gasp. He looked at her, her face ashen, her hand covering her open mouth.

Jonathon sucked in a deep breath, “God no wonder he doesn’t trust you. You can barely hide the disdain on your faces when he was just mentioned. But this is crazy.” he turned to his mother, “Steve apologized to me and Nancy several times already for that fight.”

Joyce opened her mouth to say something but Jonathon had already turned to Hopper, “Steve had parties because he was popular and wanted to fit in, that doesn’t make him a troublemaker. Besides Hop, I was at some of those parties. It’s normal teenager stuff but his neighbors in particular don’t like any noise. We drove up to his house once during the day and there was an officer there because his car made a loud noise, so they had a noise complaint. It’s unrealistic to get upset or lose respect for a teenager acting like a teenager. Steve never hurt anyone Hop, in fact he was one of the only people to make sure that girls got home safely. He made sure they all had a way home, and if they got drunk he’d offer them a ride with another one of their sober friends to make sure they all got back safely.”

Before anyone else could add in anything Sue injected, “you know Chief, I thought you were a mandated reporter. You don’t think it was suspicious that the Harrington parents never were around to help that boy? You don’t it’s weird that his parents are not ever reachable to and I’m paraphrasing you here: ‘instill good manners into him’? Don’t you think most parents would answer when you’ve called about their son being in hospital, or getting hurt?” She looked directly at him and Jim found himself floundering because he had thought it was weird. But what did he know about the elite and their small issues? Steve Harrington is a rich white boy with wealthy parents who probably doted on him and at most his most pressing issue was not getting the girl he wanted.

Jonathan finally looked up at his mother and stated, “the reason for the fight we had was because I took a photo of Nancy and him without either of their consent and knowledge and Steve rightfully got angry at me and fought me for violating his and his then-girlfriend’s privacy. He fought with me and he apologized for it even though I should have apologized to him and Nancy first. We have since made up, and forgiven each other. But that still doesn’t explain anything.”

Sue interjected, “Joyce, Jim, you are in some ways a lot more aware of our kids and their little friend group and you do know more than I or my husband do when it comes to what made them such close friends, but I will say this as Steve Harrington’s mother in all but blood, Do not let Jane hear you talk like that about Steve. She adores him like he’s her older brother and she will not take kindly to that. Secondly, Steve is not Richard Harrington, they are two different people and judging Steve on who his father is, is a huge disservice to him especially since he has done his best to be someone different then his parents. And lastly, Steve Harrington-Sinclair was kicked out and disowned by his parents two years ago during his last year of high school due to him leaving the basketball team due to his brain trauma. Maybe you should try getting to know him, before making a judgment call on him based on who you think he was some years back.”

Sue stood up and grabbed her stuff, “if you excuse me I have a son to get home too.” She walked out, head held high.

They watched her leave and before anyone could say another word Wayne spoke up, “I may not have been that boy’s number one fan, but he’s good. He’s a good kid. He tries real hard to be a good person and role model to your kids. But you miss the person he became because you’re too busy with your preconceived notion of who he is, instead of getting to know who he actually is.” he shook his head. “C’mon Eddie let's get home. I have a night shift I gotta get ready for.” Both Munson men got up and gathered their things and left as well.

Once it was only Jim, Joyce, Nancy, Robin, Argyle and Jonathon, Joyce looked up at her son. He seemed sad, “mom, do you know that Will came out to Steve before he came out to the party? Do you know that Steve is the first person aside from you and I that Will felt enough to come out too? Steve made it a point to remind and show Will that he is always safe with him. Do you know Hop, that when Jane got sick last week she called Steve after you because she knew he’d not only pick her up from school but he’d take her home and take care of her until either you, mom or I got back from work. If he’s so bad, why do all the kids gravitate towards him? Why does Jane call him her big brother? Would Will feel safe around him?” Jonathan shook his head at them, “I have a friend to get to, I gotta go also.” The remaining teens got up and gathered their stuff.

Robin had stayed quiet the entire time, not daring to speak or else she’d lose her mind at them and curse them out. But right as they left, she turned towards them and looked at them both, her voice low and hurt, “he was the first and only person I came out to, and not only did he reassure me while we were being hurt, he protected me. I have met Richard Harrington and Steve is nothing like him.”

The door slammed shut behind the older teenagers, Jim and Joyce waited for a minute, breathing calmly or at least attempting to, “maybe we should take their advice and get to know him?” both of them thought quietly.

Joyce and Jim hoped they weren’t too late to find out what about Steve Harrington had caught their kids and their respective parents’ attention.

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slasherhaven · 3 years

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First question why are you so awesome? Xo second I know you wrote a request similar post with the slashers encountering people who ask " are you going to hurt me " but what about the slashers s/o who ask them are you going to hit/ stab me?

The Slashers reacting to their S/O asking “Are you going to hit me?”:

Thomas Hewitt

Arguments with Thomas are rare and he hates the thought of ever scaring you. However, now that he just needed you to leave the basement, he was starting to get a little intimidating.

He was standing in front of you, glaring down at you. Like he was trying to threaten you.

“What are you going to do, Tommy? Stab me?” It just slipped out, whether you actually felt threatened by him or if you were just being sarcastic.

It was only then that he even realised he was holding a butcher knife in his hand. He certainly hadn’t meant to threaten you like that!

His gaze drops to the blade before looking at you again, his gaze softening instantly.

No...no, of course he wasn’t going to do that. Did you really think that was something he could ever do to you?

He still makes you leave the basement and he starts to avoid you. Had he scared you? Did you really think he could hurt you? Did you think that he would hurt you? That’s exactly what he never wants you to think of him. All the more proof that he doesn’t deserve you, that he is a monster.

Even though he is avoiding you, he wants to make it up to you. He wants to apologise, even if you don’t want anything to do with him anymore.

But of course that’s not the case. You didn’t really think he was going to hurt you, you just wanted to point out how stupid he was being for attempting to intimidate you into leaving in the first place. You hadn’t meant to upset him but you knew exactly what he was thinking about himself now.

Neither of you were even remotely angry anymore, so when he attempts to apologise for the argument and for ever scaring you, you instantly accept the apology and forgive him. Promising him that you know that he’d never hurt you and that you’re sorry for even suggesting it.

He instantly accepts it when you embrace him, giving him a kiss. He loves you and you’ve assured him that you love him, that you’re not afraid of him.

He’s just going to feel bad about it for a while. With enough love and reassurance, he’ll be back to his usual self in no time.

Michael Myers

When Michael was in a bad mood, you knew it was best to leave him be but you didn’t, which is how you ended up where you were now. Having been back up into a corner with your murderous boyfriend standing inches away from you, glaring down at you with his knife in his hand.

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You’ve always wanted too, right?” you were trying to talk back to him, trying to act unfazed, but you were afraid. He could hear it in your voice, and see it in your eyes.

Your question catches him off guard, brings him crashing right back down to reality.

He was scaring you. You thought that he wanted to kill you, that he was going to kill you.

Now he’s furious again but for a whole new reason. He shoots you another glare, how dare you make him feel this way, before storming out of the house.

Whether he’s going to kill someone to release some rage, or just go somewhere to cool off, you’re not sure. But you take the time to collect yourself and calm yourself down.

Michael is away for a while, you might even be able to get in a good amount of sleep before he returns.

And when he does return, he’s even scarier than when he was mad. Because now he is deadly calm.

You watch him carefully. Was this really the time he was going to kill you?

He takes off his mask, making your eyes widen even more. It wasn’t the first time, far from it, but considering the circumstances you thought he would stubbornly keep it on.

The truth is that, yes Michael has likely had the urge to kill you before but only because it’s all he knows. When he feels a strong emotion, it’s usually related to killing, but you elicit a strong emotion without that. So he linked the two from time to time, not recently though. Now the thought of killing you leaves a very bad taste in his mouth.

He doesn’t want to kill you, he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s aware of who he is. So are you, and that’s why you had asked him the question in the first place.

You’re in for a real shock because, just for a short amount of time, your usually stoic Michael is about to become soft. Seeking forgiveness without having to apologise, trying to show you as casually as he can that he does care for you, that he will be the one to keep you safe, not the one to harm you.

Jason Voorhees

It was a joke. You had only meant it as a joke because you knew that Jason would never, ever, hurt you.

He had been out dealing with trespassers, and you had been out in the woods. He heard movement and thought it was a trespasser, but obviously it was just you. He hadn’t even come close to hurting you, he had only raised his machete, and you had laughed about being able to surprise him.

“Hey Jason. Are you going to kill me?” it was a joke! You were just playing around!

But Jason took it a little more seriously. It’s not that he can’t take a joke, it’s just that this plays on an insecurity of his.

He’s terrified about the possibility of you being afraid of him or thinking that he might hurt you.

You instantly see that it had upset him in someway, so you’re quick to assure him that you were only joking, that you know he would never hurt you and you aren’t worried that he would. Telling him that you love him and asking him if he’s finishes with the trespassers.

He hasn’t. So he sends you back to the cabin, where it is safe, and finishes up.

And when he returns home, you make sure to shower him with love and affection, making sure to prove that you never thought he would ever hurt you.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was having one of his tantrums and he wasn’t himself when he was like this. He would shout mostly, kicking off like a child not getting his way. At most, he’d accidently break something.

But this time he was being a little more aggressive. His hands flailing around before approaching you, making you instinctively step back until he had you pinned against the way. Now he was quiet, breathing heavily, eyes angry.

“What are you doing, Brahms?” you asked but he didn’t answer. “Are you going to hit me?” while he had never done so before, it definitely felt like that was what this was leading up too.

He’d be offended by the question. Of course he wasn’t going to hit you! So he’d just storm off.

Once he calmed down, your question would ring through his mind again. You had asked if he was going to hit you...you thought that he was going to hurt you...

Now he feels awful, he has scared you and you thought that he would hurt you when he got mad. He would never let himself do that.

He’s also very worried that you’ll be mad at him.

At the point, it was late, and you had gone to bed.

So, he’d creep in, scared of getting scolded by you. Cautiously climbing on to the bed and laying with you.

When he realises that you’re still awake, he’ll apologise and try to cuddle with you. When you wrap your arms around him, accepting the cuddle, he relaxes a little, holding you close as he mumbles apologies, promising that he would never hurt you, even when he’s really mad.

He relaxes even more when you press a kiss to his head, telling him that you already know that and that it’s alright.

Bo Sinclair

Bo has a bad temper. His brothers know that, you know that, and he knows that.

When he’s mad, he can be a little scary, but he’s never hurt you before and you never really feared that he would.

He was shouting, you had just so happened to be the first person he encountered while being in this mood. He had started walking towards you and you flinched. You didn’t like that you did, but you did...and he noticed.

He snapped at you, questioning why you were flinching.

You didn’t tell him but that only made him angrier, so you eventually asked. “Are you going to hit me?”

The question made him freeze. He was just standing there, staring at you.

He had never said never said anything and he will never confess this, but sometimes he did worry about hurting you. He has a bad temper, he knows that, and there has been times that he’s broken something or hurt someone. He doesn’t want to take that out on you.

He actually worries about accidently hurting you or scaring you, so your question bothered him more than he might let on.

However, this man can not apologise to save his life.

Instead, he’s going to storm off, giving himself a chance to cool off.

When he returns, he has calmed down and he’s pretty much acting like nothing happened.

But he’s being oddly...nice, for Bo.

It’s later when he brings it up again, he’s holding you, whether you’re in bed or sitting on the couch, and he decides that he should say something.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” it sounds oddly vulnerable coming from Bo. But you look up at him and nod, giving him a small kiss, letting him relax a little. He really does hope that you mean it.

Vincent Sinclair

It was a stupid argument. He had already been in a bad mood because of an argument with Bo. He hadn’t meant to take it out on you, of course he hadn’t, but he did. He’s already apologetic for that but your question made him even more apologetic for even more reasons.

“Were you going to hit me?” you asked and Vincent froze.

Any anger Vincent felt instantly disappeared. Oh God, he was so sorry.

He hadn’t meant to scare you, definitely never meant to make you think that he would ever lay a hand on you.

He’ll take a step back, giving you some space to prove that he never intended on hurting you.

It’s silent for a moment. Vincent not sure how to respond and you instantly regretting what you said. You already knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you hadn’t even meant to say it.

It’s Vincent, of course he wouldn’t hurt you.

You’ll have to reach out to him first, he just doesn’t want to scare you.

You take his hand in yours, but before you can even finish apologising, he has interrupted you and started apologising instead.

You don’t have to apologise for asking that question, he should apologise for giving you a reason to ask it.

You’re instantly pulling each other into a hug. Vincent apologising and you telling him that you know that he would never hurt you and that you love him.

An argument has never ended and been forgotten so fast.

Lester Sinclair

Lester had been in town and had an argument with Bo, so when he came back he was already in a bad mood. He has taken it out on you and that had resulted in an argument with each other.

He had told you to get out of the way but you wanted to resolve this, so he raised his voice some more to get you to move.

“What are you going to do, Lester? Hit me?” you scoffed at him. Of course he wouldn’t, you knew that, but if he was trying to be threatening it wouldn’t work because you new he would never hurt you.

Lester didn’t interpret the question that way.

“No...no, of course I’m not going to hit you” it’s like you could see Lester’s anger just disappear.

Now he looked apologetic, hurt by the question. As if you could actually believe he would ever hurt you.

“Hey...I know. I know that” you assured him.

Just like that, everything was forgiven and forgotten. It wasn’t important anyway.

Lester just pulled you into a hug, sighing and apologising for starting such a stupid argument anyway. You assure him that it’s alright, hugging him right back, and apologising as well.

Both of you hated when you argued and he was going to make sure to make it up to you.

Bubba Sawyer

This man couldn’t do anything to make his s/o think he was going to hurt them. But since we’re here...

Bubba was having a bad day but he never ever meant to even remotely take that out on you. You had approached him from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.

He had assumed that you were one of his brothers so he turned around with a huff, giving you a sour look.

“You alright, Bubba? Look like you want to hit me or something” you chuckled but were actually worried about him.

It was obvious to you that you were only joking but it was less obvious to Bubba.

As soon as you even suggest that he could hurt you, Bubba’s mood changes.

Normally all it takes to cheer him up is seeing you and his mood had lightened when he saw you, but quickly dimmed at your joke.

He just doesn’t want you to consider that for even a second.

Bubba is quickly shaking his head, babbling with worry, as he pulls you into a hug.

But you’re quick to reassure him that you were only joking, promising him that you know he would never hurt you and apologising for even joking about it.

Well, his bad mood is over. Now he just want to show you some love.

Billy Lenz

It all happened when he was in one of his bad moods. He hadn’t gone off to calm down, so he was lashing out instead. Normally it was pretty harmless but this time he was getting a little scary. And when he just kept getting closer and closer, you got a little worried. He wasn’t himself when he was like this.

“Billy...are you going to hit me?” you always tried to remain as calm as possible when he was like this, and he normally tired himself out.

Your question could ground him pretty quickly, instantly making him realise how scary he was actually being.

Or he won’t actually process your question until later when he had calmed down.

But once he has processed what you said, he feels extremely bad about it. He doesn’t want to scare you and he definitely never wanted to hurt you.

When he’s figured out how to apologise, he’ll creep into the room. Being cautious, checking if you were mad at him or not.

“Y/n...are you mad?” now he’s the one who’s nervous. “I’m sorry, Y/n...Billy wouldn’t hurt you, not ever” he would sincerely apologise.

As soon as you forgive him or open your arms for him, he’ll jump at the opportunity, clinging to you.

He’ll keep mumbling apologising and promising he wouldn’t hurt you, feeling awful about having scared you, and upset that you would think that he could hurt you.

He’ll need some cuddles even if you don’t, so plenty of cuddles are in order.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

He had taken you to the hotel and you had accidently wandered into an area that was off limits, and Asa had grabbed your arm, dragging you out.

He was obviously mad, lecturing you on listening to him. He raised his hand (not with the intention of striking you or anything) and you noticed the blade that was still in his hand.

“Are you going to hurt me?” your gaze was locked on the weapon.

His brow furrowed in confusion before realising what you meant.

It’s not like he hadn’t ‘punished’ you in the past. Hell, he had even ‘hurt’ you but it was all in a pleasurable way. He wouldn’t just hurt you because you wandered into the wrong room. He wouldn’t just hurt you because you made him a little mad.

On one hand, he is oddly understanding. Yes, he is a dangerous man, he’s a killer and he’s sadistic about it. It makes perfect sense that you would be a little weary around him, especially when he’s in a bad mood or you are arguing.

On the other hand, he quickly realises that he doesn’t want you to fear him. He doesn’t plan on hurting you, he plans on taking care of you because he cares about you.

So, he sets out to fix it. Placing the blade down and letting out a sigh, calming down. He wasn’t even that mad at you, it was an accident, he was just trying to protect you from the dangerous rooms of the hotel.

He’ll genuinely apologise for scaring you, assuring you that he had absolutely no intention of harming you.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Jesse was usually so calm and collected, it was rare to see him so...angry.

Of course he didn’t say anything but he didn’t need too, everything about him was just radiating anger and frustration.

He had never given you a reason to fear him (with the exception of meeting him or finding out he is a killer) but you couldn’t help but be a little on edge with him acting like this.

You hadn’t even really meant the question, it was like an impulse, it just came out.

He had been ignoring you mostly because he was so pissed about something, but then he suddenly started approaching you.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you heard it at the same time he did, and it surprised you as well.

The thing that Jesse was so angry about was ‘work’ relation and he never had any intention on taking it out on you. But your question does make him think about the way he was acting, and he immediately regrets it all.

He really tries not to take it too heart, he was being intimidating and you asked an innocent question. Still, a part of him can’t believe that you would even ask such as thing.

He pauses and shakes his head, deciding against approaching you any further.

Yet, you seem...sympathetic of his annoyance, you even ask him if he’s alright, asking if there is anything you can do to help.

Jesse is going to spoil the hell out of you to make up for scaring you like that.

Otis Driftwood

Otis had been in one of his bad moods and it had led to an argument between you both.

Arguments with Otis can be pretty explosive, especially if you’re as stubborn and argumentative as he is.

“What? Are you going to kill me? I know you’ve thought about it” you asked, practically scoffing at him.

You hadn’t really meant it. You knew he wasn’t going to kill you or even hurt you, you were just trying to annoy him.

Oh it pisses him off, but completely throws him off at the same time.

Of course there had been a time where he had thought about killing you, as he thinks about killing most people, but he doesn’t always like to be reminded of that. He is well aware that if he had killed you in the past, it would be something he would regret deeply.

More importantly, he can’t believe that you could ask him something like that, that you could actually think he would hurt you now (even if it’s a perfectly reasonable assumption considering everything about him).

He’s not going to apologise, he’s just going to stomp off and ignore you for a while. Mostly because he doesn’t want to actually scare you by pushing you too far, knowing he needs some time to cool off, but also because he wants to go and take his anger out elsewhere.

Otis is terrible at apologising and will avoid doing it at all costs, including now. So, he tries to do it a different way.

Once he’s calmed down and you have too, he will return to you and instead of apologising, he’ll say something more along the lines of “I’d never hurt ya.”

And he’s oddly relieved when you tell him that you already know that.

Yautja (Predator)

The argument only happened because he was worried about your safety in the first place.

But he must have done something to scare you or give you a reason to think he was beyond angry with you.

“Are you going to hurt me?” the question was quiet but it was deafening to him.

Of course he isn’t happy about it but the question actually hurt him.

He knows that he is scary and he understands that, it had been why he was so cautious around you at the beginning.

But he thought you trusted him now, that you knew he would never hurt you. It breaks his heart that you don’t.

He doesn’t blame you for this at all. He must have done something that scared you or made you feel like he could hurt you, that was on him and he was determined to fix it.

He’ll do whatever it takes to show you that can trust him, being extra gentle with you and apologising for scaring you.

And when you apologise, telling him that you know he wouldn’t hurt you, he insists that you don’t need to apologise for anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.

But you do know that he won’t hurt you, if he hadn’t proved that before, he was proving it now.

The best way to prove to him that you trust him is to just wrap your arms around his neck, forcing him to lift you off your feet, and kiss his cheek, telling him that you love him and trust him. Knowing that he will protect you and never hurt you.

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halo-jpeg · 4 years

Note

I know I asked one already today but what about slashers with a male SO? Like, a soft boy?

Y E S. I’m writing this one on my laptop (The first time I’ve done that!) so there will probably be a lot more information. Writing on my laptop just makes ideas flow better. Maybe I’ll do this from now on.

Slashers with a Soft Boy S/O

Michael Myers

Opposites attract- he’s obsessed with you. He values that you don’t feel like you have to follow the stereotyped gender norms. You’re different, and unique and absolutely adorable.

Every single instinct inside of him that usually screams ‘Kill kill kill!’ scream ‘Protect protect protect!’ and he likes the change. It’s also, in a way, similar to getting your parents approval- if the voices don’t want you dead than the two of you must be meant to be.

He also enjoys the contrast you two share. You’re kind, and you speak quietly and wear light coloured clothing. Meanwhile, he’s dark and brooding and the opposite of nice, preferring darkness and evil.

He appreciates your softness, it’s calming. After a long night of difficult hunting, he appreciates your love and affection.

His favourite thing is when you comb your fingers through his hair or pepper his face with kisses. He can feel vulnerable, he can let his walls down around you. That’s something he’s never had before.

His trust in you is absolute. You get to see his face, you get to hear his voice, you get to tell him what to do and you get to place whatever boundaries you want. He will respect them and you until the end of time.

Jason Voorhees

Soft boy? Yes please! If he was a human of normal shape, strength and lifestyle, he’d probably be a soft boy as well. He likes flowers and small animals and the quiet nature.

Speaking of flowers, he’ll want you to teach him how to make flower crowns. If you don’t know how, then you can learn together! Along with flower crowns he’ll also make any other gifts or pressed flowers for you that he can, collecting nice looking plants and pressing them to keep in a scrapbook he insists you keep.

Your calm mannerisms are a nice break. Like Michael, his days are usually filled with chaos, screams and bloodshed, so coming home to you curled up on the couch is amazing. He’ll pamper you, hugging you and playing with your hair.

He won’t let you stray too far from the house without him, afraid that you could get hurt- or spotted by other people who think you’re as cute as you are. He doesn’t want to be childish, but sharing is not something he’s willing to do.

His mother loves you too. You’re kind, and she knows you’d never ever be rude to him like this kids were all those years ago. She thinks you’re a perfect match for her boy.

He’ll do whatever you want- want to spend your evening reading? Sure! Maybe a movie? Okay. You’re so kind to him, you always get to pick how your days are spent. He never complains, he loves you too much for that.

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Billy, Stu and you are three points to a triangle. Billy is a bit of an edgelord, mysterious and threatening, while Stu is the definition of an energetic crackhead. You balance each other out- or maybe you create the perfect storm.

Billy is a calmer guy than most, so he likes to spend his free time hanging out with you in a chill environment, like watching a movie or something similar. Whether you chat quietly as you do or just enjoy each others company, he’ll be satisfied.

Stu, on the other hand, likes to cuddle, cracking jokes all the while. Again, he’s more energetic than Billy so calmer times like these are a break to you.

Billy likes to be big and strong, so having a softer S/O makes him feel like he needs to protect them. He’s clearly more than capable of it, too, so don’t ever worry about being in danger.

Stu is similar, but he’s more up front about it. If anyone even implies anything that he doesn’t like, he’ll call them out for it in a playful but clearly passive-aggressive way.

One of them will always be with you, yet most of the time it will be both of them. They’re attached to you and they aren’t subtle about it.

Danny ‘Jed Olsen’ Johnson

Danny will never call you by your real name, not when you’re as cute as you are. You’ll constantly be called things like ‘Sweetheart’ or ‘Honey’. He usually calls everyone nicknames like that, but now that you’re here, they’re for you and only you.

He’ll pull out his old, classic Polaroid camera since he thinks it matches perfectly with your whole soft boy aesthetic. He strings any good photos along the walls with fairy lights.

He likes to go out in public with you, flaunting his adorable S/O and waiting for people to send him jealous glances as if you’re the worlds greatest prize- which you are.

However, if anyone ever makes a move or compliments you he snaps and gets super territorial. God forbid anyone ever tried to take advantage of you. Their body would turn up days later for sure.

He’s pretty much an opposite of you, wearing dark clothes and loving dark comedy- and, of course, killing people. He thinks it’s cute that you love him so much when he’s so different from you.

He stares at you almost all the time. If you’re ever sitting on the couch, silent, not doing much and you look over at him, he’ll be looking right back at you already, a smirk splitting his features. ‘Just takin’ in the eye candy.’

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is also a soft boy. He was more than surprised when you showed up as his nanny, but he fell in love with you the moment he realized how similar you were to him.

T e a p a r t i e s. If you act like him you must like the same things as him, so he won’t ever even ask. He’ll just... take your hand and drag you to the table where he’s already set out a teapot with some of his best tea inside. That’s the one thing he can make without wrecking it, and he makes it good.

He loves when you read to him in your calm, sweet voice, and swears he could listen to you forever.

He’ll trust you quicker than he’s ever trusted anyone, so he’ll use his normal voice and show his face quite often, either babying you or being babied, playing with your hair or having you play with his.

He’s a cuddle fiend, so he’ll cling to you all the time at random, hugging you for minimum 10 minutes whenever he gets in a clingy mood.

He’s so scared when you leave the house, afraid that you won’t come back (choosing not to or being stopped) so he’ll actually go into public with you. He hates it, but your calming energy makes him feel much more comfortable.

Norman Bates

Literal definition of soft boy (at least most days). He’s like your carbon copy, doing the things you do and acting the way you act.

He’s a poor nervous little guy, so he’s never too keen on PDA, but he’ll hold your hand and try to be confident while doing so. He’ll also apologize a million times, saying that he really want to hug you but he’s just too scared.

If you are ever threatened he’ll go crazy, snapping much more common than he normally would. He tries to keep it under control, but in the right environment and with the right scenario he’ll go crazy and beat the offender to a pulp- or to death, sometimes. Eek.

After his explosive episodes, he’ll feel so bad for potentially scaring you. He’ll hug you tightly and he’ll promise he won’t let it happen again. You both know he can’t control it, but these promises soothe both him and you.

He’s usually always working, cleaning, etc. but with you he’ll take a step back and relax with you when he almost never does.

The best at making you feel perfect. He’ll compliment you every second he can, kissing your hands and cheeks and nose. you can also see the pure unadulterated love in his eyes.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent l o v e s you so much, you’re just the type of person he needs in his life. You’re so sweet and kind to him, which counter’s Bo’s snappiness, while you’re also very calm and soothing, a good counter to Lester’s high energy.

He’ll teach you how to sculpt like he can as best as possible, spending hours standing behind you and guiding your hands over his work-in-progress.

He enjoys towering over you, making him feel big and strong- again, the opposite of how Bo makes him feel. you give him a purpose, he feels useful when here’s there to protect you.

He’ll soak up any praise you give him, returning it full-force in the form of flowers, wax gifts, and stuff he’s scavenged off of tourists. He knows he’ll never be able to repay you for all you do for him but he’ll sure as hell try his best.

He refuses to kill in front of you. From time to time Bo will drag an unconscious (but still breathing) victim down into the basement for him to wax alive so the form is easier to get right, but Vincent will usher you out of the room so you don’t see the body or the following process. It’ll taint your perfect personality.

He soothes his insomnia simply by looking at you. Your calmness lets him know that everything is okay, and sleep comes easier when your nestled against his side snoring gently.

Bo Sinclair

Bo thinks its hilarious and impossible that you ever fell for him, a big, dangerous man with no sense of mercy. It’s also strange that he fell for you, since no one else had ever caught his eye before.

He trusts you not to run to the police, and by god you’d never even try. He thanks whatever god may be listening for the gift that is your love, wondering every single day how he got so lucky.

Your softness is foreign to him but once he gets used to it he noticed that it’s slightly similar to how Vincent acts. He is soothed by the familiarity that this realization brings.

He’ll want nothing more than to cuddle you day and night, but he knows he has to work so he’ll request that you work with him to keep him company. He also wants to keep an eye on you but would never admit to that. It’s not like he’s always terrified for your well being or anything baka

On days where he feels extra sweet he’ll make you breakfast and ask for Lester to pick up some flowers from the nearest town, wanting to make you feel special since he doesn’t ever have the chance to shower you with the love he wants to.

He’ll never believe that you know he loves you, he’ll always doubt it, and he’ll always claim he needs to show you better. Whatever gifts he can get his hands on go to you.

Lester Sinclair

Your softness is something he’s never properly seen before. He’s curious to learn about every single one of your likes and dislikes, and soon enough he knows every little thing about you.

He won’t have any spare cash- he uses it all to buy you things or to gather things for a nice date. His favourite, as I’ve said in other headcanons, are picnics at night in the bed of his truck, staring up at the stars.

If you’re ever in his truck with him while he’s working, when driving down the road, if he ever sees some pretty flowers he’ll pull over just to pick them for you, tucking them behind your ear or bundling them into a bouquet.

He treats you like glass. Even though he isn’t strong and would never accidentally hurt you, he is scared anyways.

He’ll hold your hand and kiss your knuckles whenever he’s got the chance.

Whenever Bo yells at him, your soothing voice calms him right back down. It’s so soft and gentle he can’t stay sad or angry, so he gives into the smile trying to crawl onto his face at the sound of it.

Bubba Sawyer

You’re everything he wishes he could be. He tries to be soft and gentle in nature as not to scare people (unless he’s trying to of course) but he’s just too tall and burly to do so.

He’ll try to examine how you act, incorporating it into his own actions so he can seem more like you and less intimidating. It doesn’t help much but it’s endearing that he wants to be so much like you.

Despite Drayton’s shouting and demanding he still clips sunflowers to gift to you, and you have so many sunflower-crowns, wilted and new. He also presses and dries flowers for you.

Your softness completely contrasts the chaos of his life. His brothers, all three of them, are loud, energetic, and obnoxious, but you’re the polar opposite, the calm within the storm. You make every day worth living.

You’re so sweet towards all of his siblings despite how difficult they can be, and it warms his bog ‘ol heart.

P R O T E C T. He’ll sacrifice his own life to save you, and when your life is on the line, depending on the day he can act two ways- p a n i c, where he loses track of himself and freaks out, or c a l m, where he knows EXACTLY what he’s doing at all times, and acts with strange precision and determination.

Thomas Hewitt

You are as different from him as one could get. You remind him of his mother, and he loves you just as much as he loves her. He likes standing beside you and seeing how different he is from you.

He’ll try to imagine the two of you with swapped personalities, where he’s the soft one and you’re the big scary one. He can’t imagine it no matter how hard he tries.

He’ll ask you every day if you actually choose to be with him, and when you say yes he gets just as happy and giddy as always.

He’ll collect things off of victims to gift to you in exchange for your ‘adorableness’, as he puts it.

He won’t let anyone get too close to you- not even his brothers, only his mother. The same goes for victims. Anyone who gets even a step too close to his basement gets a quick mallet to the head. He won’t take any chances.

He gets a n g r y when anyone says anything remotely bad about you. That goes for his brothers as well. He’s usually a pushover, obedient, but if they so much as say your name in the wrong tone he’ll snap and turn into a menacing beast not to be messed with.

Billy Lenz

S o f t b o y ? Y e s

He cherishes you more than any other slasher here. You aren’t a rude asshole like most of the people he’s seen in his life, you’re so perfect and different and fantastic.

He’s a soft boy too, so he’ll ask you to play with his hair while he plays with yours, like some sort of two-sided braid train. Speaking of which- braid this poor boys messy hair, he loves it.

No attic for you >:{ it’s too dark, you could hurt yourself! He doesn’t want that, it would be his worst nightmare to lose you! After explaining why you can’t go in the attic he’ll start crying simply because of the thought of losing you.

You’ll have to cuddle him lots or else he’ll cry. This little dude is a cry baby, but like all cry babies he just needs love. Lots and lots of endless love.

He will never want you leaving the house because he can’t go with you, and he gets lonely very quickly. Before you met he was always lonely, but now that he knows he has someone to love and spend time with the loneliness is amplified tenfold.

Leslie Vernon

You’re the cutest!! He appreciates every little thing about you, and analyzes you in the beginning of your relationship to learn every tiny thing you do. All your quirks, traits and nervous tics are imprinted in his mind.

He knows your daily routine and lines his up with yours so he can keep an eye on you at all times. He knows you can handle yourself but he enjoys every little thing you do and wants to see you at all times in your natural environment.

He likes to plan his hunts with you at his side to talk to him about anything you want, even if it has nothing to do with what he’s planning. Your whole aura gives him energy and creativity since you’re so different from what he’s used to.

He makes sure never to involve you with his killing, afraid that it could be traced back to you and get you sent to jail. Even if he got caught, you would still live your normal life and that’s comfort enough for him to go on.

Always missing you, every second of the day. It’s like he can’t breathe the air if you aren’t breathing it too.

He is in love with every little thing you do, trailing off mid-sentence and getting distracted by your stunning eyes or heart-stopping smile.

Pyramid Head

YOU ARE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM HIM AND HES SO IN LOVE WITH IT.

As far back as he can remember everything has been dark and scary. You don’t belong in a dark world like this, but here you are, with him of all people! The scariest, most dangerous one here, but you have him basically purring like a kitten, putty in your hands.

Nothing even thinks to mess with you since P.H. is never far away. You basically own the place, and no matter how nice you are to all the beasts they’re all still terrified of you and the promise of death hanging around with you in the form of an S/O.

He wishes you were in a happier place than this. You don’t deserve the fear and danger, you deserve a perfect life where you’re treated like you deserve to be treated. He feels so bad that you’re stuck here too.

The rage inside of him gets to be too much sometimes, but he’s always soothed by your presence alone, the sound of your voice washing away any negative emotions.

Huge separation issues. He doesn’t know why but he can’t be away from you for long or he’ll break down.

#slashers #slasher #horror #slasher community #slasher headcanons #headcanons #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #jason voorhees #michael myers #pyramid head #billy loomis #stu macher #billy lenz #leslie vernon #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #brahms heelshire #norman bates

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alexlabhont · 4 years

Text

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Three.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda, because I want to give you choice at some point. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one

Chapter two

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

A truce.

That’s what she said she wanted and for a moment, all their fears disappeared.

“I really hate to admit this, but I personally asked for you to be my partner on this project. I'm familiar with your music, and I actually wanted to work with you.”

She also said. Beck didn't know how to feel, really. Poppy Min-Sinclair heard their songs, or, at least, she saw their videos.

And she liked them.

Or not? They never knew with her. She has been acting pretty weird these days. Giving them a “compliment”, smiling at them, asking for Beck to be project partners…

Open up with them.

That was beyond weird.

Beck couldn't stop thinking about what they saw back at the “Alpha-Zeta deluxe cabin” or whatever it’s called. Poppy really looked hurt… sad… like…

Like she has feelings.

“I don’t know, Beck. I don’t think is a good idea letting you guard down.” Zoey said, playing with their hair, both of them resting on the couch, Beck’s head laying on her thighs.

“Yeah, I get it. But…” Beck took a moment, remembering the sadness in her voice, the betrayal in her eyes… Did she really care about Chloe? “I wish you had been there to see it, Zo. It was so real my head exploded… Like... She was really hurt.”

“Babe, I know what you’re trying to say. And I believe you that she was in pain. But you have to remember she's still Poppy. And even if she’s a… uhm… human who feels, it doesn't mean she's not a bitch.”

Beck stood up, sitting properly while scratching their neck.

“Yeah, I know that.” They replied. Zoey had a point they couldn’t forget. From all people, Beck understood what it felt like to be judge by a cover, but as Megamind's Roxanne said once: Checking the content was what matters, and the inside of Poppy´s book was not so good.

The time on the wall clock pointed it was the moment to go, it was Saturday and Poppy and Beck agreed to meet her in front of an Animal Rescue from downtown around noon. He didn't want to be late, after all, Poppy was capable of start the project without them and argue that they didn't show up.

“Anyway, I have to go now. The sooner we end this, the better.” Beck put on their shoes and leather jacket, ready to impress thanks to Zoey fashion sense.

“I want you far~ away from trouble, Beck Hughes. Do you hear me?” The protector side of Zoey appeared and, again, they were confused by it.

Zoey always had that effect on Beck, she could warm their chest, sculpt a smile on their face. Honestly, after all these years in a toxic environment, bullying and harm, having Zoey´s concern on them was something new, something welcomed, something that made them happy. Laugh a little if Beck thought about it closely.

“I can take care of myself.” They said. After all of those fake friends, after all of the pain they went through, it was still hard to trust completely. However… Beck looked at Zoey, the only one who Beck felt relaxed with. Their best friend, the first one to treat them as what they were even after knowing the truth. Beck didn’t miss Farmsville at all. “See ya later, beautiful.”

“I´ll be waiting right here”

~~X~~

They won’t ever admit it, but after they heard Poppy saying that the project was in the Downtown Animal Rescue Beck was excited. Puppies, kitty cats, animals! Beck love them greatly, wholeheartedly. They were their weakness; their adoration was so much so Beck considered seriously taking the vet path almost all their life, if having not found music, their story would´ve been completely different right now. That´s why they couldn’t refrain themselves of stopping at each enclosure to coo over the animals, losing all sense of self-respect over them. Especially after a pup ugly, dummy looking like showed up with the most adorable face they ever seen.

“Oh boy, you’re so ugly I luv ya Tushie-face! Who’s a precious ugly-boy? Uhm? Who’s a precious ugly-boy~” The little pug barked happily, enjoying the attention. “You’re perfect! You’re…”

“… nice to see so many new additions.” Beck heard, stopping them at the moment. Beck was sure it was Poppy, but she sounded… “I guess that means a lot of these little guys are being adopted?” … different. Again.

“Yes, Ms. Min-Sinclair.” A young voice answered, without fear, with respect. A good kind of respect. “We have a ten percent higher adoption rate than last year” Uhh, that sounded good. For some random reason, Beck showed the thumbs up to the ugly pug, flashing him a stupid smile at which the pup moved his tail as if he understand what it meant and agreed.

But then… Poppy laughed.

A real laugh. A nice, non-threatening, actually kind of cute laugh. So honest that they felt terrible attracted to it.

“No… Oh, no, no, no… No. Don't you even think about…”

As if their body was its own person, Beck rounded the corner, wanted so badly to see how a laughter so sincere looked like in Poppy´s face, like some weird kind of siren song they had to see with their own eyes. Instead, Beck saw her talking to one of the shelter’s employees, hugging and stroking a bichon frise puppy´s tummy softly, lovingly. Their heart stopped just a second, running wild immediately after.

“God… she’s so…”

“DON´T!” And they slapped their self. Hard. Beck deserved it. They couldn't… they won’t… They refused to…

The sound where so loud it called the attention of both Poppy and the other guy, while Beck felt the stinging and burning on his now red cheek. Ok, maybe~ they didn't have to do that, actually, the expression on Poppy´s face the moment she saw them, a sour, angry one, was the only thing they needed to feel normal again towards her.

“You're late” Why, hello to you too.

“I´m sorry, it's just that I was playing with Tushie face and…”

“Tushie face?” Beck couldn’t tell if she was amused or making fun of how stupid they were. “That´s how you pet-name?” Poppy added, raising an eyebrow. Beck shrugged.

“If you have a tushie face, then you are a tushie face. Simple as that” Based on Poppy's smirk, they should’ve stay quiet.

“Uhm… Alright, tushie face.” Damn it! “Come with me.” She then gave them a wink, smiling as if they both had now a new secret, before walking toward the back of the kennels.

Fuck.

“So… how do you knew about this place?” Beck asked, very willing to replace the topic to literally anything.

“If you must know, my parents bought me this shelter when I was eight.”

“What?”

“Really? Why?”

“I wanted a dog. Mommy and Daddy didn't want pets in the house… Et, voila”

Beck looked around, the place had now a new light after what they just learned. All this place was Poppy's, just because her parents didn’t approve animals at home. Unintentionally, Beck chuckled, feeling Poppy’s gaze on them almost immediately.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, irritated.

“We’re really very different but the same at once” They said. “Ever since I was a kid, my parents taught me to work with every single farm animal. Cleaning them, feed them, love them… I even helped bring life into this world.” Beck told her, twisting their lips. “I had a lot of different pets back at home. So do you right here. You see?”

“You’re forgetting about the fact the whole point of a place like this isn't for the animals to stay forever…” She said, vulnerable. Beck did actually get that, the hollow feeling that comes after something like that.

“Well… at least they’re not dinner”

Surprisingly, that comment made her chuckle just a little and Beck felt so good to be the one to take away that fragile expression in Poppy’s face. She was definitely more beautiful when she was happy. When she was laughing.

“You are right, that's even worse.”

They both looked at each other for a moment, some complicity in their own way, as if they both shared something, a sentiment that almost nobody felt, both understood each other, at least in one little but significant thing: They both learned very young what it's like to love innocently and truly, to have an unconditional companion, just to lose it to the “greater purpose” again and again. Both learned to never get really attached to anyone.

“But whatever, it gets the humanitarians off our back.” Just as if the conversation never happened, Poppy went back to the factory mode. “Which is why we’re really here. I’m fully aware of your popularity in YouTube, especially after your little performance, so hopefully this project we’re doing will get some good press for us to get the adoption rate it to, at least, 20 percent this year.”

“So this is why you wanted to work with me…” Beck didn't know why, but a little part of themselves felt disappointed… what was them expecting anyway?

Soon they both reach the back of the room, and while Poppy walked in as if it was completely routine, Beck had to stop for a second. A whole crew was already set up, cameras, microphones, lights, everything. A lot of cute pups and cats of all ages were also there looking adorable, sure they were the real stars of all this, but Beck couldn't help but feeling intimidated.

However, it was Poppy’s attitude the one thing that took all Beck’s attention though all the day.

She was kind, professional, caring… making sure of one thing above it all: to have the best commercial of all times for an animal shelter. The way she treated the employees, the animals, people around her… it was like a completely different side of her they never seen before. Poppy even, against all odds, treated Beck as what they were: her project partner. Giving them a fair share of lines, taking care of capturing their best angle, how happy they looked between all those cute little animals. Directing Beck to make sure every detail was perfect, being polite and respectful while doing so.

She was acting as a selfless but powerful leader, and Beck couldn’t take her eyes off of her the whole time. She even managed to convince them to adopt that tushi faced puppy, pointed out that they both had choose each other right at the moment they meet.

“Just look at the way he's watching you!” She said playfully. “You two are really connected.”

“Do you really think so?” Beck asked, playing with the pup. They really wanted to take the little guy home, be able to give him a good life, having another friend in their life. One not farm related at least. Beck felt Poppy coming closer, resting her hand on Beck's shoulder while watching little tushi face with a soft smile.

“I know so. But the real question is: what do you think?”

And now, Beck had a dog named Pepes.

~~X~~

Once they knew every detail was taken care of, and the adoption paperwork were all right, Poppy, Beck and little Pepes walked out the shelter. Personally, they felt drained out, because although they were used to cameras, it was always under their own terms and time, their own edition, their own personal rhythm, but after that day, Beck was seriously considering the idea of being backstage musician, unlike Poppy, who actually looked as fresh as a cucumber.

“Damn, Pops. I have to admit it: you were awesome there.” They said, Pepes barking enthusiastic, agreeing.

“Were you expecting something less?” She said, some mischievous sparkle in her eyes Beck couldn't quite place. “Now, take me to lunch.”

“I'm sorry? Why would I do that?”

“Because…” She started to say, sassiness taking over her. “… I acted, arranged, produce and direct a fully perfect commercial to our project while you just played around with puppies and looked cute. The very least you can do is buy me lunch. I'm starving.”

“Oh, so you think I'm cute?” Beck flirted. It was impossible to let it pass by.

“Like it was a secret” Poppy smirked.

“… What?”

“I’m not blind, Hughes. You are actually very good-looking. It´s not a secret.” Beck was shocked, did they really just heard a compliment from the one Poppy Min-Sinclair that wasn’t commercial related? They looked at her, expecting some irony or double meaning, maybe some hint of a trap, but no… She was being completely sincere. Beck snorted, it was cool they guessed.

“Now, that's a compliment.” Poppy rolled her eyes evidently, pretending to be irked, but that little smile on her lips proved to be the opposite.

“Hello? My lunch?” Beck laughed, how can she be so rude and yet so cute at the same time? Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

Maybe.

“Whatever you want, bossy-ass”

----

#queen b choices #choices #trans #ftm #poppy x mc #malemc #poppy min sinclair #bea hughes #Beck Hughes #choices stories you play #choices poppy #choices queen b mc #mc x poppy

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fears--all-the-way-down · 3 years

Photo

“What’s your excuse this time?” the snow was coming down harder than it had been when she’d left the house. A light blanket was sticking to the sidewalk. Had it been any other moment this might have seemed like a scene out of a snowglobe. The scenery was right, the house in back of him lit up like a Christmas tree, the fireplace sending the perfect puffs of smoke into the air, his sister probably already tucked into her bed. His sister who couldn’t have cared less for her. She may have been younger, but Max felt her disdain as great as their mothers every time she walked into the Sinclair home. Their reactions to her were the same as the look that was written across Lucas’s face at the moment. Fidgeting, she pulled the beanie down over her ears a little bit tighter. Anything to bring some movement to the moment. To avoid his gaze was what she was looking for. The disappointment that was written in the set of his deep brown eyes, “You know what, I don’t even want to hear your shitty excuse this time.” fuck. She’d promised him she’d go to evening mass with them, told him that this time she wouldn’t let him down. Yet here she was, hours afterward, with the nerve to walk up to his house and try to play it off like everything was alright. By the look on Lucas’s face, this time she wasn’t going to be able to talk her way out of it all. Guilt hit her straight in the chest as he defensively crossed his arms against his chest, “One night Max. I asked you to come along for one night.” right. To church. To a place that she couldn’t fathom walking into when everyone inside the building was a bunch of fakes worshiping a false god that didn’t even sound like a good idea. How could so many people believe in such utter shit? How could he? Did he? After all, they’d watched. After the way they knew El had been tortured, Will had been stalked. How paranormal phenomena wasn’t just some made-up bullshit. It was all details she’d agonized over as she’d paced the block in the 33-degree weather unable to make her feet carry her to the Sinclair’s door in time to go to the bullshit Christmas eve mass that they’d invited her to. “Lucas… I…” she opened her mouth to speak again and shut it immediately, Her thoughts weren’t put together enough to speak, she wasn’t sure exactly what she was even supposed to say.

“save it.” instead, he cut her off and spoke for her. “I asked you for one thing Max. One fucking thing… and you couldn’t even do that. After you TOLD me you’d be here.” his voice was rising now. His anger more apparent than ever. She’d screwed up. There was hesitation, his eyes dropped to the sidewalk, “I don’t think I can do this anymore Max.” she’d been waiting for that, silently hoping for that. “I ask you to show up for me and you never do. It’s like it’s all some big joke to you.” teeth bared down on the inside of her lip. She knew she needed to keep herself in check, knew that even if this was the end of things she needed to not fight. Their closest friends were shared, “He was a piece of shit to you Max. Wake up and stop making him a martyr.” she hadn’t even realized it but she’d grabbed onto the St. Christopher pendant somewhere between the moment and her subconscious. A martyr.

She wasn’t making a martyr out of her dead brother. She wasn’t coloring the shit he’d done in shades of grey. She was mourning for the brother who’d protected her. The one who’d stood up against his own father so that the bruises that now decorated her skin hadn’t done so before. For the one who’d promised her that he’d always be there to watch out for her first and foremost. Who’d dried her tears when her dad had bailed, promised her that he’d toughen her up so that no boy ever dared to smash her heart into a million pieces. The Billy he’d been before they’d come to the stupid shithole that was Hawkins. “You’re a selfish prick Lucas.”

“you don’t let anyone in Max.” like he would have bothered to try and understand if she’d tried. With his perfect family, the doctor mom and lawyer dad. Perfect fucking family with their two kids and cat. The irrational part of her hated him for it. Hated him for everything he had and how blind it made him to the outside world. How easily he could go home and forget that not everyone lived in such a storybook life. “I tried to be here for you. I tried to show you that moving on from all of the shit you’ve been through would do you some good…” it was easy for him to say when he didn’t have purple handprints gripping tattoos around the top of his arm. “But you refuse it. No matter how hard I fucking tried.” He kept going on, his ranting turning into static in her ears. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t been fighting for months. Their unwillingness to bend had brought both of them to their knees. Max had gotten to the point where even holding his hand had been something she’d had to force herself to do. Acting like they were fine rather than admitting that they were both too different to be repaired. It wasn’t like last year. Last year when they still had the option to be careless children who spent hours outdoors biking around the neighborhood, breaking curfews, and sneaking into the movie theater. So much of their innocence had been taken away in a single summer when the world decided to implode and show them things that most people would never get the chance to understand. “You don’t even have anything to say, do you?” his final question brought her back into herself. She glanced up at him then, saw the emotion behind his look that she couldn’t find it in her to requite. She couldn’t fake tears when she’d been waiting for this, waiting for them to get the chance to call it quits so that she could breathe again. Her expression was completely blank as she shook her head, “no” the word was perhaps too simple. It ignited an anger in him. The fact that he was hurting and she couldn’t even muster it in herself to fake it. She stood still as he started to retreat back towards his perfect house, “fuck you Max.” he bit out trying to cover his own sadness as she stood where the snowflakes fell angry against the sidewalk, and finally, for the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe again.

#continuity: speak now #speak now: flashback #lumax

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idumpyourgrass · 4 years

Text

Always Waiting- Chapter Nine

Always Waiting- Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

(I do not own gif!)

Always Waiting masterlist

Summary: Billy pops in to say hello, the kids Steve and Y/n head to the tunnels, and Y/n and Steve talk.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

A/N: Well… some of y’all bout to be real mad at me for this part, but don’t worry!! There’s plenty of time to fix it, right? Wow this chapter is wild. I hope you all enjoy it, and as always lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

Warning: Language, fighting, I think that’s it, oh and typos

Word Count: 3.1k

You couldn’t help but feel all warm inside watching Eleven and mike reunite. It almost made you goddamn cry. When did you become such a softie?

“I never gave up on you, I called you for…”

“353 days, I heard,” Eleven finishes Mike’s sentence. Mike pulls away from her, “Why didn’t you tell me? Let me know you were ok?”

“Because I wouldn’t let her,” Hopper steps up to Eleven, pulling her in for a hug, “Where have you been?”

“You’ve been hiding her,” Mike says, getting closer to Hopper, “you’ve been hiding her this whole time!” His voice getting more and more frantic.

“Hey,” Hopper grabs onto Mike’s arm, “Let’s talk, alone.” Hopper takes Mike back to one of the bedrooms. Eleven gives Lucas and Dustin a hug, Eleven points to Dustin’s teeth, “you have teeth,” she says. You giggle, which brings El’s attention to you. She approaches you, “Y/n,” She says.

“It’s good to have you back El,” you say pulling her into a hug. Sure, you didn’t know her that well, but you knew how much she meant to the boys. Max goes to introduce herself to Eleven but Eleven refuses and goes to talk to Joyce.

* * *

You all gather around the table, discussing what the plan was and how the plan was going to work. Jonathan and Joyce were going to take Will to Hopper’s cabin and try to get the “virus” out of Will while Hopper and Eleven were going to go to Hawkins lab to close the gate. You, Steve, and Nancy, were in charge of the kids. Woohoo.

You, Nancy and Steve all stood outside, looking through a pile of garbage for heaters. You were digging around, not really paying much attention to Steve, until he spoke to Nancy.

“You should go with him,” Steve says, him being Jonathan.

“What? No I can’t leave Mike.” Steve hands Nancy a heater, “I may be a shitty boyfriend, but I’m a pretty damn good babysitter.”

“Steve-“

“It’s ok Nance,” oh god, this sucked. You didn’t want to see Steve be sad, it would only make you feel bad for him and at this point, you were trying to avoid feeling for him at all. You decide to leave the two of them to talk and you go stand by the kids on the porch. Steve shortly joins you all, Nancy hops into Jonathan’s car and they all drive away. Once the cars are out of sight, the kids turn and head inside. You go to follow them but are stopped by Steve. You turn to face him but avoid eye contact.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Steve asks, “Why are you acting so weird?”

You don’t know why, but at that moment you thought you were going to break down crying. Tears fill up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Now is not a good time Harrington,” You respond coldly, you make your way inside the house leaving Steve standing outside, confused as ever. As soon as you walk in, you are greeted by the sight of Dustin trying to shove the dead demodog into the refrigerator.

“Jesus Christ Dustin, what the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. Making your way over to help him.

“This is a scientific discovery we can’t just bury it like some common mammal,” Dustin snaps back. You just roll your eyes. Mike is pacing around the living room, you can tell he’s worried about Eleven.

“Hey, Mike, she’ll be fine ok? She’s with Hopper, he won’t let anything happen to her,” you console, trying to get him to relax. He stops pacing. “You don’t know that! That lab was swarming with hundreds of demodogs,” Mike starts pacing again. Steve comes in the room, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Listen, dude, coach calls a play in the game, bottom line is you execute it,” Steve says.

“Oh my god,” you mumble.

“This isn’t some stupid basketball game and we aren’t even playing we’re on the bench,” Mike argues.

“Yeah, my point is, right, yeah, we’re on the bench so there’s nothing we can do,” Steve says. The wheels start turning in your head. “That’s not entirely true,” you raise an eyebrow, “I mean the demodogs, they have a hive mind. When they left the bus, they were called away,” You look up at the group, seeing if anyone is following, no one seemed to be. You continue, “If we get their attention, maybe we can draw them away from the lab,” Now everyone seemed to be understanding. “Clear a path to the gate!” Mike adds in. “Yeah and then we all die!” Steve yells.

“That’s one point of view,” Dustin says.

“That’s the only point of view,” Steve mumbles.

Mike starts looking at the map spread around the house, you follow him. “Here,” he says pointing to an area on the map, “ this is the hub,”

“You’ve got all the tunnels feeding here,” you say helping Mike figure this out.

“Maybe if we set this on fire,”

“Yeah, that’s a no!” Steve argues.

“The mind flayer would call away his army and they would come here,” Mike keeps going, ignoring Steve’s comments.

“We’d circle back to the exit and by the time they realize we’re gone, El would be at the gate!” You exclaim.

“Guys! No that is not happening! No, no, no,” Steve interjects.

“But-“

“No buts, I promised I'd keep you shitheads safe, and that's exactly what I plan on. We're staying here, on the bench and we're waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?” Steve starts pointing his towel at each of you.

“Steve come on!” You plead.

“I said does everybody understand me? I need a yes,” Steve demands. Since when did you become one of the kids he babysits? Before any of you can respond, the sound of an engine revving catches everyone’s attention. Max races to the window.

“It’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me,” she turns towards Lucas, “He’ll kill us,” You start making your way to the door, figuring you can get rid of him. You open the door a crack but Steve shuts it, “What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, “I’m getting rid of Billy,” You respond, trying to open the door again. Steve’s hand holding it closed. “You really think I’d let you go out there after what he did to you? I’m going out there. You stay here.” He pushes you back and he goes outside. You stand on your tiptoes and peek out of the window on the door. You watch as Billy points his cigarette towards the front window. You snap your head towards the front window. All the kids were peeking over the couch and looking out the window. “Well shit,” you say. You look back out the window just in time to see Billy punch Steve to the ground and kick him. Fuck.

You try to lock the door, but the door is slammed open, hitting you in the head in the process. You let out a small yelp and immediately you press a hand against your head, trying to stop the pain.

“Well, well, well, Y/n Henderson. This is a surprise,” Billy smirks.

“What do you want Billy?” You spat. He turns and points towards Lucas.

“Leave Lucas alone,” you tell him. He cackles, running towards Lucas and slamming him into the wall.

“Stay the hell away from my sister,” Billy yells, while holding Lucas up by his jacket. “Do you understand me?”

“Billy, get off of him!”

“Leave him alone!”

“Stop it!”

“Get off of me!” Lucas knees Billy, causing him to double over. “You are so dead Sinclair,” Billy snarls.

“No, you are!” Steve runs up to Billy punching him right in the nose. This does not phase Billy at all. Billy starts laughing, causing a chill to run down your spine. “Looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all! I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been talking about!” Steve gives Billy another punch. Billy staggers back, hitting the kitchen counter. You watch as he clumsily reaches for a plate, “Steve watch out!” You and the kids yell. Billy takes the plate, smashing it over Steve’s head. Steve stumbles, Billy taking this opportunity to get in some punches on Steve. Steve takes the punches, still standing, Billy gets in one good one causing Steve to fall to the ground.

You clench your fists as you get ready to punch Billy. You raise your right arm, but Billy is quicker than you. He catches your fist midair. You knew you were in trouble now. Before you can think, Billy swings his right arm and punches you across the face and then takes his other fist and gets a good hard swing to the left side of your face, knocking you to the ground. Your ears ringing.

“Y/n!”

“Billy! Stop it!”

Billy kicked you in the ribs, and then gave you one more hard punch to the face. Your vision started to blur, and you could taste blood in your mouth and could feel blood trickling down from your nose. You whimper, unable to move. Through your blurred vision you see Billy fall to the ground and Max threatening him with the nailed bat.

“Y/n? Y/n can you hear me?” Dustin rushes over to you. You slowly try to sit up but groan in pain and lay back down. “No, no, no, don’t try to get up, just hold on ok? Is Steve ok?” Dustin asks. “I’m fi- Holy shit Y/n!” You hear, what you assume is Steve’s voice. Your eyes start to grow heavy.

* * *

Before you even open your eyes, the pain comes rushing back.

“Fuck!” You whisper yell.

“Y/n’s waking up!” You open your eyes, or at least try to. You try to adjust to the setting you’re in.

“Ok and you’re going to keep driving straight for half a mile,” You come to the conclusion you are in a car. You look up and see Steve, sitting next to him is Dustin and Mike. You look down and see that you are laying across all three of them, your head resting in Steve’s lap. You reach up to touch your face, to try and find out what damage had been done.

“No, no, no, don’t touch it,” Steve says, gently taking your hand and placing it back down.

“Y/n I thought you were a goner, he really got you good,” Dustin blurts out. When you realize your head is still in Steve’s lap, you quickly sit up, maybe a little too fast. You bump your head on the top of the car. “Jesus fucking Christ,” You say pressing your hand against your head, which only caused more pain. “Woah, Y/n, take it easy,” Steve says.

“I’m fine, I swear,” Your eyes grow wide when you look over to Steve. “Steve?” You ask.

“hm?”

“If you are sitting, right here, next to me, in the backseat, of a car, then who the FUCK is driving this car?!” You panic.

“Listen, I am totally against it, but they wouldn’t let me drive!”

“You got hit in the head by a plate and took like 5 punches, you are not in a good place to be driving,” Dustin says.

“But Max is?!” Steve yelled.

“She’s driven before!” Lucas pipes up.

“Yeah, in a parking lot,” Mike adds.

“Oh god, Max, please stop the car.” You say.

“A parking lot counts!” Lucas argues with Mike.

“Everyone shut up! I’m trying to concentrate!” Max yells to everyone.

“Left! Turn left!” Lucas shouts. Max harshly turns the car then slams on the breaks. Steve quickly puts his arm out in front of you to stop you from flying forward.

“Thanks,” you mumble to him.

The group gets out of the car, you take the most time to get out. Once you are out you struggle to find your footing, stumbling right into Steve. Steve places his hands on your shoulders to stabilize you. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asks, concern in his voice. He scans your eyes. “I swear, I’m fine, I pinky promise,” You hold your pinky out to him, he takes his pinky and latches it onto yours. Dustin hands you some goggles and a mask to put on. Once everyone has all their gear on, you all head down to the tunnels.

Steve led the group and you stayed in the back, stumbling along the way. To say you were in pain was an understatement. Were you going to let anyone know that? No way. Once you reach the hub, you all spread out, drenching the whole area with gasoline.

“Ok, as soon as I throw the lighter down, we need to run,” Steve says. Yikes, running? Did everyone forget you just got punched then blacked out maybe 15 minutes ago? Steve throws his lighter down and the whole place lights up.

“Go, go, go!” Steve waits for all the kids to run past.

“Y/n come on!”

“Steve you really think I can run right now? I can barely fucking stand up,” You snap. Before you even realize what’s happening, Steve picks you up and takes off running, nearly running into all the kids who have stopped. A demodog stands in the way of the tunnel. Steve carefully and slowly sets you down as you both watch Dustin step forward.

“Dustin!”

“Dustin get back!”

“No Dustin!”

Dustin shushes all of you. “Dart?” He takes another step forward. Dart opens its mouth and snarls at Dustin. You quickly reach for Steve’s hand, gripping it for dear life, your heart is racing a million miles per second. Dustin slowly reaches in his backpack and pulls out a three musketeers candy bar. He places it down in front of Dart. Dart bends over and starts eating it. Dustin motions with his hand for you all to go. You all make it back to the rope. Steve lifts Max up first, then Lucas, Mike and Dustin. Steve was about to boost you up when you both saw the demodogs started running around the corner.

“Get behind me, Y/n,” Steve tells you as he gets your nail bat ready. You stand behind him, waiting for both of you to be taken down by demodogs, but it never happened. Instead all of the demodogs run around you. Steve turns around, wrapping an arm around you to keep you from getting swept away by the dogs. Mike’s eyes went wide when he realized where they all were going.

“Eleven.”

* * *

The gate was closed, and everything was back to normal. The Snowball dance was coming up and you promised Hopper you would help Eleven get ready. Hopper dropped Eleven off at your house and you started getting her ready, putting on some purple eye shadow and fixing her hair.

“You know, Max doesn’t like Mike,” you say.

“What?” El responds.

“Well not like, she doesn’t like him, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was that she doesn’t want to date him. She just wants to be friends with him.” You say, trying to get her to stop hating on Max.

“Just friends?” Eleven asks, trying to clarify.

“Yes, just friends. I think, her and Lucas are dating,” Eleven started giggling and pretty soon you were giggling too. The sound of the doorbell ringing pulled you two out of your laughing fit. You went to go open the door only to see Steve. You haven’t seen Steve since the night the gate got closed.

“Oh Y/n! Um hi.”

“Hi Steve, let me go get Dustin,” You say, wanting to avoid all awkward interactions as best as you could. Dustin comes running to the door, all dressed and ready to go.

“Oh! Hey, would you guys mind taking El?” You ask.

“Um, yeah sure, but uh, can you come too? I think we need to talk,” Steve insists. You hesitate but agree.

Once you drop Dustin and El off at the dance, Steve pulls into the parking lot, parks his car, and shuts it off.

“What happened to us, Y/n?” Steve asks.

“Funny, I should be the one asking you that.” Steve gives you a puzzled look. “Oh come on Steve. You are the reason we aren’t friends anymore and you know it. The first time was when we got to high school and you became “King Steve,” I wasn’t cool enough for you and your stupid title, so you chose to ignore me completely, not even a smile in the hallway. And then we became friends again, you know, after you and Nancy broke up, and then Nancy and you got back together, so you stopped hanging out with me again. Oh and then you guys broke up so then you started “pretending” to care about me again.” You spat.

“Pretending? What are you talking about?” Steve asks.

“Steve this whole friendship we have, if you even want to call it that, is only a friendship when it’s convenient for you. And it sucks, it really does, because you know why Steve?” You could feel your eyes filling with tears. “Because, fuck Steve, I really like you. And every time you decide you don’t want me anymore, every god damn time, it breaks my heart and there’s nothing I can do about it, and then you decide you want to be friends again and I just let it happen because for some fucking reason I always think, this time will be different, this time he’ll stick around and you never do, Steve!” Tears were streaming down your face, uncontrollably. Steve stayed silent. “I’m tired of putting in effort and getting nothing in return. A relationship, whether it be friends or boyfriend and girlfriend or husband and wife, require effort from both people to make it work. Maybe we should just stop trying to build a relationship off of a broken foundation.” You take a pause, hesitating to say what you’re about to say, “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think, it would just be better for the both of us, if we just tried to stay out of each other’s lives.” You couldn’t believe what you were saying. Your lip was quivering. Steve didn’t say anything. He just started the car and drove you home. The car ride was long and silent, except for an occasional sniffle from you.

Once you get home, Steve tells you he’ll pick Dustin and Eleven up and take them home, neither one of you exchanged a goodnight or a goodbye as you got out of the car. As soon as you get to your room, you collapse on your bed letting out uncontrollable sobs.

You just lost your best friend, for good, and now you don’t think you’ll ever get him back.

Taglist: @loulouloueh @nighttwingg @hauntedduckdefendor @l0ve-0f-my-life @labrujaprincess @welcomethefears @metuel18 @polynesianmayo @readinthegarden12 @alafolieee @yoheyyosup @loco-latte @daddystevee

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #dustin henderson #Lucas Sinclair #will byers #jonathan byers #Joyce Byers #Billy Hargrove #Max Mayfield #mike wheeler #Nancy Wheeler #jim hopper #eleven

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pathetic-has-been-rockstar · 3 years

Text

A different order

Pairing: none

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: Christmas photshoot

Warnings: none

Summary: The festive atmosphere is finally making its way in the bunker. Sam decides to involve everyone in an unsual Christmas photoshoot, and to leave a tangible mark in the Men of Letters bunker. Ugly Christmas sweaters, brandy glasses and a new softness will lead Dean to a new way to look at his family, while waiting for you to get at the bunker.

Words: 2659

Beta: @raspberrymama

A/N: my work can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

Sam walks into the kitchen, bringing a box along with him. He sets it on the table, and Jack immediately goes to check its content. Castiel contents himself with a strange look. When Dean turns around, wearing an apron and in the middle of cooking pancakes for all, he points at the box with the spatula he's holding.

“No. Take that thing off the table, Sammy. Breakfast first, research later.”

“It's not research, actually. I was looking for... Christmas decorations and things like that, and look what I've found”.

“Pictures!” Jack, as usual, looks thrilled for a second, before looking at Sam with a confused expression. “Wait. The bunker is filled with pictures. Why are these important?”

Sam smiles and points at the frame in Jack's hand. “Look closely. These are Christmas pictures. I was thinking that maybe, since it's the first time we celebrate properly... we might continue the tradition?”

Dean thinks about it for a moment, then scoffs lightly, more touched than what he lets on. He's well aware that Sam has been keeping up with him and the hunting life, and that he kissed goodbye the idea of a normal life to stick with him... but this doesn't mean he was okay with it. The idea of being part of something, the whole “legacy” thing obviously means something to him. To belong somewhere, for people like them, is a luxury and a privilege beyond their wildest dreams. If a stupid photoshoot is what his little brother wants, a stupid photoshoot is what he's going to get. Naturally, this doesn't mean he's going to get it easily.

“I don't know, Sam... do you really want to be up a wall with Cuthberth Sinclair's pals?”

“That's the whole point, man. We might leave proof of what we did.” Sam's smile could light up the room, right now. Castiel looks at him, curious.

“... meaning what?”

“Come on. Can you imagine? A... a Man of Letters picture with an angel, a nephilim, and four hunters?”

“... you want to flip them a proper bird, huh?”

Sam is practically beaming while he nods. “Why, don't you?”

The consensus about the idea of Sam seems to be unanimous, until Dean does a quick headcount. “... wait, four hunters?”

“Yeah, I... I invited Eileen. Did you hear from Y/N?”

“Yep, she should be here tonight. I'll call her later. Eileen? Is she okay with spending your first Christmas with us?”

Sam gives Dean a little, awkward smile, and fishes a picture from the box. There's Sinclair in a corner of it. Sam carefully opens the frame, takes out the picture, and folds it so that “Magnus” isn't visible, before setting the picture back in the frame.

“There, much better!” he murmurs with an approving smile. Castiel looks at Sam, cautious.

“Last time you asked me to be in a picture with you both, things didn't go well.”

Dean answers before Sam can even think about it. “Another good reason to take a new one, right?”

Jack curiously looks at Dean, but he shakes his head. The kid is going to hear that story about Jo and Ellen another time, maybe after some drinks, and in a very different mood. Dean spins on his heels, turns off the flame under the pan, and grabs the handle of it.

“Alright children, settle down. It's time for breakfast. Sam, if you complain about bacon, I swear...”

Sam raises his hands in surrender. He knows better than fighting Dean over breakfast. “I'll settle with cereals, thanks. Can I have some eggs, though?”

“... yeah, you can.”

After breakfast, the four men spend quite a long time studying the old pictures of the order before finally agreeing on the idea for the picture. They're going to use their federal agents suits, but wearing Christmas sweaters underneath them. Dean insists on optional cigars and glasses of cognac, because “that's what gentlemen drink”, even if he doesn't answer how he knows that, despite being asked several times.

Castiel even offers to fly somewhere to find anything missing, but Jack forbids him, siding with Dean.

“We must follow tradition! We'll go buying the things we need at the mall, like people usually do.”

Castiel has seen crowds around Christmas, and that's not a memory he revisits happily. “Jack, tradition is long, complicated, and surely it doesn't include mystical beings such as we are.”

“Then we'll make a new one!”

“I don't think you get the point of traditions, Jack.”

Dean laughs at the deadpan tone of Castiel, then stands up. He looks at Sam and starts giving orders to everyone.

“Cas, you go and look for the brandy and the cigars. Jack, you're on the sweaters. Sammy... you and I go to look for the glasses. They must be somewhere around...”

“Uh, actually... I was thinking to go look for the camera.” Sam interrupts Dean, who tilts his head a bit.

“... what do you mean the camera? We have phones, and we have the digital camera we got a couple of years ago.”

Sam stutters a bit, trying to explain his idea. If Dean didn't tease him about it so far, he surely will now. “Yeah, but I was thinking of using the original camera, too. There's a dark room in here, I was curious to try my hand with that.”

Surprising Sam once again, Dean offers him just a small sigh and a bright smile. “Anything to keep your little geeky heart content, Sammy. Let's start fixing things, come on. As soon as Eileen and Y/N are here, we'll take the picture.”

“Do you think it looks Christmas-sy enough?”

Jack holds a red sweater with a reindeer embroidered on it and turns it so that Cas can look at it. Castiel sighs, opens his mouth to say something, then looks at Jack's expectant expression and resolves to sigh.

“It surely delivers clearly the theme, yes.”

“Great! Let's get this one is for Dean, then, I've heard it's good for people to get in the right mood.”

“I'm not sure Dean will agree... or if he's in the right mood for... anything. Ever.” Cas murmurs while following Jack to another stand of terrible sweaters. The idea of Dean wearing one of those is incredibly unlikely... and yet, somehow, endearing.

He would never do it if he wasn't ready to be given Hell about it... or perhaps he's just defensive of that tradition? He never mentioned a particular fondness for that clothing piece, but it wouldn't be the first thing he missed about the first human he saved from Hell. Just as he's starting to think about how things changed more in the last twelve years than since the dawn of creation, Jack's voice tears him away from his thoughts.

“Then it will be up to us to put in a good mood. You think Sam would like a sweater with a tree? He's very tall, it might be a good match.”

With another pained sigh, Castiel nods and understands that he will have to keep a closer look on Jack, and learn how to deal with an overly Christmas-enthusiast child. New world, new challenges.

“You know, it might be a good idea to tone it down. We don’t...”

“Cas, look at those!”

The thrilled shout of Jack in seeing the sweaters with little lights in them almost makes Cas feeling nostalgic of the Apocalypse. At least he knew where the danger came from, how to deal with it, and the rules to engage. A shopping mall in the days before Christmas knows no rules, and that is somehow unnerving.

“Sammy! Get your ass over here!” Dean shouts, prompting Sam to pop his head through the door frame.

“What?”

All Sam sees is Dean's legs, the lower part of his torso, and one of his hands, waving behind him, holding a small crystal glass. “... you think these are good for brandy?”

“... no, those are to taste whiskey.”

Dean pulls his head out from the depths of the cupboard, looking at Sam with a skeptical expression. “Bullshit. What... how can you tell?”

“You asked me, why you... look. They're small, you see? For a smaller quantity, and also, less space on the base to... you know what? Never mind”, he lets go, already recognizing the question rising in Dean's eyes.

“When did you learn about this stuff?”

“I don't remember, but I thought it could be useful. It happened that we had to go undercover at parties and stuff, and a server who knows the glasses is far more believable”.

“... you are just so damn smart. Any luck with the camera?” Dean has a sort of proud smile dancing on his lips, even if he tries to sound as snarky as possible.

“I was just checking it. The lenses are a bit dusted, but I can clean them. Everything else... seems ok. Whatever spells Magnus placed on this place... they kept things working perfectly, no exceptions.”

“Yeah, well... I ain't thanking the son of a bitch.”

Sam scoffs, thinking about their far too close call with the master of spells. Another experience he's very happy to archive under the “never again” file. Dean is sticking his head inside the cabinet, ignoring the sinister creak of the little stool under his feet. Sam picks it up almost immediately.

“Dean...”

Sam is cut short by the act of catching a glass from Dean's hands. If he's aware to have interrupted, he doesn't show it. “Eight glasses are enough?”

“Eight? Why? It's the two of us, Cas, Y/N and Eileen.”

“You want to leave Jack out?” the way Dean's voice echoes inside the cabinet almost makes Sam laugh, but he needs to stay serious.

“Of course I want to leave him out. He's three, Dean!”

Dean hands Sam a few more glasses, before coming out from the cupboard and down the stool holding a couple more. He then gives Sam a sassy look.

“He's also the most powerful being in the universe. He slayed two archangels, countless angels, and rendered powerless God itself. I doubt a glass of cognac is going to do him any harm.”

“Perhaps you have a point. Anyway, why eight? Even counting Jack, it's just six of us.”

“Nah. With Y/N around, Crowley is going to be here.”

“... you think?”

“I know. Watch it happen.” Dean nods resolutely, ignoring the bemused expression of Sam before going on. “They've been together, you know that, right?”

Sam's jaw drops and he almost drops the glasses, making Dean laugh. Judging by the expression on his face, with raised eyebrows and open mouth, he didn't know.

“What?”

“Yep. It was... while Lucifer was loose, a bit after the Vince Vincente's thing. They were hunting together, apparently, and got drunk enough to finally put up with their awkward thing.”

“That's... that's new.”

“Well, no, not exactly. Anyway, I'm willing to bet twenty bucks that we won't get Crowley out of our hair until after Christmas.”

“I'm sure that she knows better. I see your twenty.”

“Thirty if they make out or have sex.”

Sam laughs, already feeling thirty dollars in his pockets. Plus, Dean has no idea of the bets placed on him by Sam, Eileen and you.

“I see your thirty.”

A very exhausted Castiel and a thrilled Jack walk through the door of the bunker with several bags of stuff. They've bought the Christmas sweaters, a few baubles for the tree that is somehow still missing, an unholy and definitely unhealthy amount of Christmas cookies, and anything else that somehow managed to inspire a vague Christmas feeling in Jack.

Dean takes the bags from Castiel's hands, smiling at him with a tender expression.

“You look exhausted.”

“I feel exhausted. Redoing Heaven was draining, but at least there were no teenagers around.”

Dean laughs and pats Castiel's shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort. The angel studies him, fascinated by the way Dean's lips curve upward in a smile and listening to him.

“Well, at least Jack is... well, I don't know what he is, but I don't think he'll ever go through that. Come on, let's go see what you've bought.”

“Oh, God...” Cas groans, anticipating the protests from both Sam and Dean.

Instead, not one of the brothers seems annoyed by the obnoxiously bright choices of Jack. Whatever changed in them, Cas wishes it stays like this. He's absolutely baffled when Dean picks up the sweater with Rudolph the reindeer - an America's favourite, apparently - and turns it so that Sam can see it with a delighted expression.

“Look at this, Sammy! Oh, God, I must have this.”

Jack turns to Cas with the most smug expression he's ever sported. “I told you he'd like it! Sam, check yours out!”

About ten minutes later, when everyone has put on his Christmas sweater, they all meet in the war room, wearing them under their fed suits. Dean chuckles and walks over to Castiel, fixing his tie, ignoring the bright red sweater he’s wearing underneath the dress coat.

“Lookin’ good, man.”

“I thought we decided to look like the Men of Letters.”

“We don't need to look like them, Cas. We are Men of Letters. We indulge Sammy here, but we do things our own way. Here, you look... great.”

Sam and Jack exchange an amused look, while Castiel and Dean share one of their long, dramatically and ridiculously intense gazes. Sam clears his throat and calls for their attention.

“Dean, why don't you call Y/N to see where she is?”

Grumbling and tearing his stare away from Castiel's eyes, Dean nods. He's still surprised about the way everything changed. He could swear to know Cas in every single way, and yet he feels like he's discovering a completely new person. Not being at war is strange. Pleasant.

He's still trying to adjust to that. He never felt authorized to have anything like that. He tried to bury every memory of the few months during which he allowed himself to believe that something other from hunting was possible.

Freedom might also mean a chance to explore all that he ever denied to himself. Leaving behind the past, the expectations he so tirelessly tried to satisfy might be the hardest thing he's ever done... but Castiel challenged Heaven's orders after obeying for millions of years. In a heartbeat, one of the most fearsome warriors of God decided to disobey his very nature, and fight alongside humanity. Once again, Castiel is giving him courage and purpose, and he doesn't even know it.

Dean smiles and fishes his phone from his pocket, dialling your number.

When he goes back to the war room after the call, he stops for a second, taking in the sight of the room. Sam is teaching Jack how to keep the glass in his hand, while Castiel is curiously studying the cigars he bought, making the puzzled expression he usually exhibits when fiddling around mundane stuff. When Jack puts on his Santa's hat, Dean laughs and steps closer to the group.

“Alright guys, she's not picking up. I guess she'll be here shortly. How about Eileen?”

“She's on her way. I guess she'll be here in a couple of hours.” Sam answers with a smile. He always smiles, more or less unconsciously, while speaking of Eileen. Dean grins, decided not to waste a chance to tease his little brother.

“... well, I'd keep that sweater to welcome her here, if I were you. Green suits you!”

“Get bent, Dean.”

“Language!” Cas intervenes, hinting at Jack.

“Oh, I've heard much worse from Dean, Cas. Like that time he spilled coffee on his pc and it froze on the Bust...”

Before he can finish, Dean shouts at him. “Jack! That wasn't supposed to come out!” Dean panics and opts for a quick retreat to the kitchen, deciding to find comfort in some leftover pie while waiting for you and Eileen to finally join them for dinner.

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

Thank you for reading!

I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost my works or part/s of it on different places, not even if you give credits.

#spn #spnfic #spnchristmasbingo #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #christmas photoshoot #fluff #feels #canon divergent #reblog

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asexual-hugger · 4 years

Text

Allison McQueen arrives on her parents’ front porch with her boss, Detective Ernest Sinclaire, in tow. Before the trip, Sinclaire had asked Allison what he was supposed to bring with him.

“Something lightweight and your own sweet self,” she had responded. “It’s a farm, so you won’t want to wear anything heavy. It can get hot out in the fields.”

“Am I expected to do any physical labor?” he’d asked. “Not that I wouldn’t be open to it, but I thought your mom wanted your help.”

“Don’t worry; she’s going to get it,” Allison had said. “When I mentioned getting hot out in the fields, I meant being outside. Our porch is fairly big, and we have some VERY comfortable lounge chairs set out on it. You and Kade are here to relax, and I’m here to be the farm girl I was raised as. If anything confuses you while I’m working, you can always ask Kade.”

Now the two of them stand on the large porch Allison had described, and Sinclaire’s eyes keep roving over the chairs and table with awe.

Not long after Allison rings the doorbell that the door opens, and the face of Lady Eleanor McQueen pokes through the crack.

“Allison! You came!” She swings the door open and wraps her only daughter in a huge hug.

“Yeah. I came. Hello, Mom.” Allison squirms slightly in her mother’s strong grip, forcing out the words.

“I didn’t think after our phone conversation the other day that you would make it.” Lady Eleanor releases her and Allison steps back, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and looking flushed as she meets Detective Sinclaire’s gaze.

“Please. What kind of daughter would I be otherwise?” Allison asks. “Yes, I made it, and I, er, brought someone.” She nods behind her.

“Oh!” Lady Eleanor appears to notice the newcomer for the first time, and she lets out a low gasp. “Forgive me; I didn’t see you there!”

“No worries, Lady McQueen.” Sinclaire boldly steps forward and manages a proper bow. “Detective Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator. I’m your daughter’s employer at work.”

He holds out his hand to her, and when she takes it, he turns it over and kisses it in his gentlemanly fashion.

“Oh!” Lady Eleanor says again, only this time it’s almost girlish. “Why, aren’t you becoming! It is such a pleasure to meet you, Detective. I feel as if I know you already by the way Allison gushes about you all the time. I didn’t think you would be so young, let alone dashing! Come in, please, both of you!”

She holds the door open while the two of them pick up their suitcases.

“I’m very sorry to come by unannounced into your home, Lady McQueen,” Sinclaire says, his face flushing. “Allison invited me, and I couldn’t turn her down. I do hope it’s all right if I’m here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Detective; of course it’s all right!” Lady Eleanor waves a hand at him dismissively. “I trust you have been taking very good care of my daughter. Any friend of hers is more than welcome into this household.” She nods over his shoulder at Allison, mouthing, ‘he’s CUTE!’

“I appreciate that.” Sinclaire hesitates and looks back at Allison as if waiting for her cue.

“Go ahead,” Allison urges. “I’ll catch up.”

“So Allison has been ‘gushing’ about me, has she?” Sinclaire looks at Lady Eleanor, and then back at Allison, with amusement. Allison looks at the ground, face hot and unable to meet their gazes.

“Oh, most definitely,” Lady Eleanor tells him, grinning slyly. “She sings your praises all the time. Until today, I never would’ve imagined such a handsome fellow. Her description of you certainly did not lie. Are you absolutely certain you are her employer? Because you don’t look a day older than she.”

“I can assure you, Lady McQueen, I am most definitely her employer,” Sinclaire explains. “And I do wish to hear more about what she has told you regarding myself. I hope she has said encouraging things?”

“Nothing but encouraging,” Lady Eleanor answers. “Every time we talk she raves about her job and how much she’s enjoying it. I take it you are keeping her busy?”

“As much as I can,” Sinclaire replies. “Allow me to state that she is the best assistant I’ve ever hired. You raised a good one, Lady McQueen. She’s dependable, reliable, punctual, and has an excellent attitude. Yes, we may not be all that far apart in age, but I built my detective agency from the ground up all on my own, and until Allison entered the picture, there wasn’t much joy in the business. Your daughter has that presence that fills a whole room with light.”

“I am thrilled to hear you say that, Detective,” Lady Eleanor beams. “Our Allison has always been the light in the darkness. After having two older boys, I begged for a girl, and somehow, after she was born, I just KNEW. I knew she was something special. She brought joy everywhere she went.”

“I have to agree with you on all accounts, Lady McQueen.” Sinclaire tosses glances at Allison as he speaks. “Thank you for being so accommodating.”

Allison grips her suitcase tightly and walks through the door, and he follows soon after. Lady Eleanor calls out into the living room the instant they’re inside.

“Sebastian! Kade! Guess who just arrived!” Her tinkling voice echoes through the house.

“Hey hey hey!” Allison’s father, Lord Sebastian, enters the room carrying a glass of wine. “Is that our little lady?”

“Hi, Dad.” Allison lets him place a fatherly peck on the cheek before he turns and spots her guest.

“Oh, hello. Allison didn’t say she was bringing company.” He seems to be examining Sinclaire from head to toe.

“Er, I’m very sorry, sir,” Sinclaire apologizes, his gentlemanly manners always making him even more adorable. He stammers at the sight of the large man. “Your daughter invited me to stay here while she helped you with the farm work. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll stay out of the way as much as possible. My name is Ernest Sinclaire. I’m a private investigator with Ledford Park Detective Agency. Allison is currently my assistant, and...”

“AHA!” Lord Sebastian utters the word so loudly that both Allison and Sinclaire jump. “So YOU are the famous Detective Sinclaire that my Allison can’t stop raving about! I should have known the second you set foot into this room!” He grins widely and holds out a beefy hand for the private eye to shake. “Welcome to House McQueen, my ever-loving detective friend!”

“Oh, er, yes, I’m that Detective Sinclaire.” Sinclaire shakes his hand. “As I was telling your wife just now, Allison is the best assistant I’ve ever had. She works hard and makes sure everything is done thoroughly...”

“Say no more!” Lord Sebastian downs the wine and thumps the glass on the coffee table. “I am Lord Sebastian McQueen, Allison’s father, and you’ve clearly already met my wife, her mother, Lady Eleanor McQueen. I am very sure my girl is working hard and well at her job. As the man of the house, I say: make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Lord McQueen.” Sinclaire places his suitcase in the hall out of the way and seems to look less intimidated by Lord Sebastian’s large form.

Good god, he thinks. Allison’s father is a mountain man!

Allison certainly did not get her delicate, waif-like ballet dancer’s body from him. “Mum, where’s Kade?” Allison’s voice lifts Sinclaire from his thoughts.

“Oh, yes.” Lady Eleanor leads her to the family room, where the Hide-A-Bed is set out. “He’s in here. Come say hello.”

“Come on, Detective,” Allison urges, taking Sinclaire’s hand. “Come meet my brother.”

“Big sister!” The boy on the bed gives a joyful yelp when he sees Allison. He’s lying on the hideaway bed surrounded by blankets and pillows, and his foot is wrapped in a heavy cast.

“Hey, Kadeo.” Allison leans down and very gently wraps him in a hug. “Looks like you really took the spill this time, buddy.” She eyes his cast and cringes slightly. “That looks a lot worse than Mum described it.”

Kade McQueen shrugs. “It’s no different than last time,” he says indifferently. “Last time it was the stool in the stable. That was super freaky.” His eyes travel over her shoulder and his face brightens. “Oh, hey there! I’m Kade, Allison’s brother. Allison didn’t tell me she was seeing anyone!”

“Actually, this is my boss,” Allison corrects him quickly.

“Hello, Kade.” Detective Sinclaire approaches and smiles at the boy. “I’m Detective Ernest Sinclaire. I’m a private investigator currently working with your sister as my assistant. How’s the foot? Allison told me you fractured it?”

“Yeah, jacking up the plow,” Kade tells him. “It’s no big deal, really. I’ve had a lot worse than this. My family calls me Kade the Klutz. Which, of course, fits me to a T.” He grins widely at Sinclaire before giving him a good long look. “Are you absolutely CERTAIN you are my sister’s boss? Cause you look kinda young, almost like you could be her boyfriend.” He turns to Allison. “Don’t deny that you wanna eat him alive with your eyes right now. You look like you could rip each other’s clothes off any second.”

“KADE!” Allison gapes at her brother, horrified.

“What? I’m not judging!” Kade insists. “You two make a cute couple. If I had any say in this relationship, I’d vote Boyfriend-Girlfriend over Boss-Employee any day. The Titanic of Love has just set sail from the Southampton docks. Woo woo!” He makes a boat whistle noise and pumps his fist.

“Ughhhhh.” Allison covers her madly-flushing face with her hands and groans. “I am so sorry about that, Detective! He must be on some new medicine or something. There’s no way he would act like that if he weren’t high.”

“There’s no apology needed,” Sinclaire assures her. “I actually think it’s kind of cute. Your little brother apparently supports my being here just as much as the rest of your family. I’ve never felt more welcome or loved by anyone before. Do you think we make a cute couple, Miss McQueen?”

“Yes, of course I do,” Allison answers. “But you’re my boss. You even said it yourself. That kind of relationship is forbidden. Business first, personal second. I know you told me you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t,” Sinclaire says. “Not at the moment, anyway, but that’s only because I haven’t found the right person yet. It’s not because I’m not ready to start dating. However, I do know the right person is out there, and she’s much closer than I ever would’ve imagined.”

He sneaks a glance at Kade over Allison’s shoulder, and when he’s sure Kade is watching, he winks at him.

“Titanic of Love, baby!” Kade swoons. “Titanic of LOVE!”

“Yeah, yeah, buddy, we all know how much I love the Titanic,” Allison says matter-of-factly.

#choices stories you play #desire and decorum #pixelberry #detective story #fanfiction ideas #tv show idea #play choices #choices game

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sslasherss · 4 years

Text

The Hazards of Baking

Giveaway number one for @localnightmare13. Enjoy!

Cracking their eyes open, Sam winced at the sunshine streaming through the thin curtains. They rolled over, a groan in their throat, and tried to block it out with the covers. But no, it was too damn bright, and now they were wide awake.

Well, might as well just get up, then. No doubt Bo was already gone for the day, Vincent in his studio doing... well, who knew what. As far as they knew, there hadn't been any bodies picked up for a new wax figure. Yet he was always down there, at least when Bo was out, so Sam virtually had the house to themselves.

They didn't bother to dress, throwing a hoodie over their tank top and padding barefoot to the top of the staircase. The house was completely silent, save for the creak of the stairs as Sam descended. A quick peek into the living room confirmed Bo was gone. Good. He was always so... slimy. Fake charming. It spooked her.

Off to the kitchen, then. Sam would have killed for fresh bread, or pancakes - or anything with way too much carbs, honestly. Their stomach growled in response, echoing in the silent house. Yeah, they thought, I know.

The kitchen was dark, Sam's eyes struggling to adjust to the inky blackness. They fumbled with the switch, huffing in annoyance as their hand hit the wall instead. When the lights above finally flickered on they winced, harsh light assaulting their eyes.

Then a gasp reached their ears, one that wasn't their own. Sam's lips parted in a silent huh? as they turned -

To see none other than Vincent Sinclair, still in pyjamas, covered in flour and holding a pan so black it looked like it had been the victim of a house fire.

Sam blinked, eyes drifting from the ruined pan to Vincent's masked face. "What are you doing?"

His good eye darted to the pan, then to the ground. It was then that Sam noticed even the floor was covered in a thick layer of flour. Vincent's broad shoulders hunched under their gaze, body seeming to shrink in on itself.

"Were you... trying to bake?"

He nodded, still not making eye contact. Not that he ever did anyway, if Sam was honest. He was always like that around them - hunched, eyes downcast, dark hair covering his face. Like he was trying to go unnoticed. It was adorable really, but Sam felt a pang of sympathy as she watched him wring his hands.

"Well, you've made a right mess," Sam mused with a gentle smile, "and whatever sauce was in that pan is a disaster. But..."

At this, Vincent's head snapped up, tendrils of dark hair clinging to the waxy mask. His good eye gleamed in the dim light. However inaccurate the image probably was, Sam imagined him blushing beneath said mask.

"But," Sam repeated with a broadening smile, "we could try again, together? Would you like that?"

Vincent's enthusiasm was contagious, his nod so vigorous his whole body shook. He spun on his heel, discarding the pan on the flour covered work bench, scrabbling for something they couldn't see.

Even now, Sam flinched. Vincent was sweet despite his family's... choices - but whenever he moved a little too quick or reached for something they couldn't see, their stomach lurched. Vincent found whatever he was looking for, turning to thrust it into Sam's hands. Their eyes snapped wide, stepping back - only to see a crumbled piece of paper.

The recipe?

Huffing out a breath, Sam unfolded the paper. Stupid. What did they think he was reaching for - a knife? Eyes drifting down, they tried to ignore the way Vincent edged closer, the way his breath tickled their skin. "Caramel apple cake?" they murmured, "so you were trying to make caramel?"

Vincent snorted, an almost-laugh that sent Sam's heart skipping in their chest. He ducked his head, bashful, and sent a side-eyed glance toward the mess.

"Dump those dirty dishes in the sink," Sam instructed quietly, "and let's have another go."

It was easy enough, at first. Sam diced the cooking apples while Vincent hovered anxiously by their side. Sure, the knife was overkill for the task - especially so in their small hands - but Sam had been doing this for years. She doubted Vincent did much baking. Or cooking at all, really.

"I'm fine," Sam assured, reaching for the next apple. Their hands moved expertly, and they didn't pause even as soft eyes rested on Vincent's face. "I mean it. Stop hovering and make the sponge, please."

In hindsight, they shouldn't have asked. No sooner had Sam returned to their own task when a burst of flour bloomed, splashing across their hoodie. It clung to their hair, their clothes, even their bare skin.

"What the-" when they spun, fighting down the urge to cough, all they saw was Vincent. Vincent, with his dark hair stained white.

An enormous hand rose to shake the flour from his hair, but it only served to fall onto his shirt instead. He glanced down, good eye narrowing, and he huffed.

"Maybe I should take over," Sam offered. Somehow, trusting Vincent to wield an oversized knife seemed more reasonable than letting him continue with this. At least he used knives and scalpels every day, and there was no risk of him destroying the entire kitchen with flour.

Sam thought she caught a flush peeking from the underside of his mask as he moved aside. Their arms brushed as they swapped places, and Vincent lingered just a little too long.

But Sam was probably just imagining things.

So instead of allowing themselves to think about it, Sam focused on the cake. Or rather, the mess of separate ingredients that was an attempted cake.

At least things went smoothly after that. The cake made it to the oven unharmed, and no one lost a finger to that enormous knife. Then came the dreaded caramel sauce, for which Sam insisted Vincent remain spectator.

Yet he insisted on hovering over their shoulder, watching as they stirred, his towering figure curling around their own as he peeked shyly over their shoulder. Once, such an act would have caused a spike of panic to shoot through Sam's veins - but right then, with the warmth of his skin only inches from their own, Sam smiled.

"You don't need to stand so close," Sam murmured. Tilting their head upward, they met Vincent's gaze. Only one eve was ever visible, and not for the first time, Sam wondered what lay beneath the mask. God, they bet he was handsome. Far more handsome than Bo, even if they were identical twins.

They expected him to move away, to duck his head in that sweetly bashful way - but instead Vincent pressed closer. One hand reached out to clasp theirs, the one currently stirring the pot of caramel sauce. His hand was calloused but gentle, warm from the heat generated by the stove.

"You want to feel included?" Sam questioned, swallowing down the lump in their throat.

He simply hummed in agreement and oh, that noise was music to her ears.

Could Vincent feel how hot they were? Could he hear her ragged breaths, sense how desperately she wanted to sink into his touch?

By the time the sauce was done, Sam's nerves were shot. They heaved the pot away from the burner, trying to ignore how eager Vincent was to help. Trying to ignore how good it felt to be so close to him. They fit perfectly into the curve of his body, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on the top of their head-

Pain set their hand alight, red hot and burning. Sam dropped the pot with a yelp, scrambling back - only for their back to bump into Vincent. The pot clattered onto the kitchen counter top, spilling a drop of sauce onto the marble top. When Sam's eyes darted down, the back of their knuckles were blotchy red.

Well, that's what they got for being so ditzy.

Vincent was by their side in a second, hands reaching for Sam's own. His one eye was wide, clear blue filled with an ocean of concern. Hunched shoulders tensed, a slender finger gently brushing across the scald.

Wincing, Sam fought back a hiss.

Immediately he dropped their hand, a low whine escaping his lips in a silent apology. He backed away as if he was the one burned, eye fixed on the floor.

"I's all right," Sam soothed, "I just... wasn't paying attention." The reason why, they decided, was best kept a secret. They moved to the sink, good hand giving Vincent's thick arm a reassuring squeeze on the way past. Then, turning on the tap, they let the cold water wash over their burning skin.

"I'm sorry."

Sam jerked, head whipping around, water spraying across the tiled wall as they stared at Vincent. "You're what?"

"I'm sorry." His voice was low, scratchy like a man that had been smoking his entire life. Scratchy like it caused physical discomfort. Yet it was handsome, oddly soothing in its shyness.

Wait, had Sam really never heard Vincent speak before?

Blinking owlishly, Sam felt a smile tug at the corner of their lips. "So you can speak."

A hand darted up to rub at the back of his neck. Long, greasy black hair hung in his face, shielding even his one bright blue eye from view. "I don't like to," he admitted quietly, "Bo says I sound... unpleasant."

"Well, Bo's full of shit," Sam answered. Never would they admit such a thing in front of Bo himself, or even sweet Lester - but it was true, wasn't it? Their heart stuttered as they stepped closer, one hand outstretched to take Vincent's. "For what it's worth, I think your voice is lovely."

His eye crinkled, barely visible beneath the curtain of hair - Sam's pulse quickened at the sight, their smile growing. He was smiling beneath the mask, and oh they wanted nothing more than to see his face unhindered.

But that could wait. Instead, Sam settled for reaching up to press a kiss to his wax mask, tucking thick hair behind his ear.

Vincent tensed, and for a moment Sam worried they had done something wrong - but then a whoosh of air escaped his lips, batting against the inside of the mask, and Vincent relaxed into her touch. "Thank you," he murmured.

"For what?"

"Teaching me how to bake. Being so nice," he paused, head dipping to press into the crook of their neck, "spending time with me."

"Why would I want to spend time with anyone else?"

A broken, scratchy laugh caught in his throat. It was an odd sound that made Sam's head spin - but it was a beautiful sound.

They stood there for a long time, embracing in the middle of the kitchen like nothing else in the world mattered. Well, in that moment nothing else did matter. Sam enjoyed the warmth of his enormous body enveloping theirs, the smell of wax filling their nose, the feel of his hands gently running through their short, bouncy hair-

Then something beeped behind them, stabbing through the silence. The two broke apart, Sam's eyes wide, flashing across the room. Then the scent of bitter smoke filled her nose.

"Shit, the cake!"

Moment broken, Vincent rushed to the oven. Nervous hands stumbled to pull the door open, oven mitt hilariously tiny for his oversized hands. The cake was burnt. Well and truly crispy, almost solid black. Vincent huffed, turning to Sam with a head tilt so adorably apologetic.

"At least we tried?" Sam supplied weakly, "besides, it was worth it just to spend the morning with you."

#vincent sinclair x reader #localnightmare13

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p4nkow · 5 years

Text

Bijou

Hello everyone! Here’s a Roger one-shot which is nothing but fluffy fluff. It’s a friends-to-lovers kind of thing ‘cause I’m a sucker for it. It’s inspired by the song Bijou for obvious reasons.

Let me know what you think! My inbox and dms are always open!

Summary: Y/N is Roger’s best friend and roommate but after a gig everything changes. Basically that’s it. Oh, and it’s all thanks to Rudolf.

Warnings: none, I swear

Of course, it could be read both as Ben!Roger or as real life Roger. Also, gif not mine so credit to the owner!

You and me are destined

You'll agree

To spend the rest of our lives with each other

The rest of our days like two lovers

For ever - yeah - for ever

My bijou...

As far as you could remember, Marquee Club had never been as full as it was that night. It was probably due to the upcoming Queen gig, one of the first done under that name. Tim had dumped the boys for a band called Humpy Bong, of which Roger and Brian were very sceptic about, but right after they found Freddie and eventually John. Queen was born and their gigs were becoming more and more numerous. As Roger’s roommate and best friend it was your duty to attend each and everyone of them. You already knew Brian, he was one of your closest friends and his flat was right next to yours on Sinclair Road, but you had the chance to know Fred and John too. The five of you had become inseparable.

You made your way to the backstage with great difficulty, making your way through the numerous people.

“You‘re late!” Deaky put aside his bass to come and give you a hug. You pat his back as you hugged him back, murmuring against his shoulder “It’s bloody chaotic out there!”

“And bloody hot, too.”

“Ugh, you’re sweaty- get off.”

John chuckled as he leaned back, pointing out the point where the boys were. “Fred’s getting ready. We’re going onstage in ten.”

“Got it.” You nodded and you reached the boys, placing a kiss on Fred’s cheek and smiling at Brian. “Nervous, boys?”

“Always am.” Brian’s answer didn’t surprise you, you knew how much he tended to overthink and get nervous. Neither did Freddie’s. “I was born for this, darlin’.”

You knew he was just messing around but he really was born for this. Whenever he was onstage, he owned it. You’ve attended enough of their gigs to know that the audience had learned to love him, because he gave them what they needed. He always said that they were four misfits who played for other misfits and deep down he was right.

“I’m gonna be right at the front of the stage.”

“Will you take some pictures?”

You shrugged at Freddie’s question. “Sure, why not.”

“How many people are there?” Brian asked you with a shy smile, tightening his grip on his Red Special.

“The pub’s full. One can barely breathe out there.”

“Great” He murmured, reaching Deaky on the other side of the hallway.

Fred placed a kiss between your hair as he said “I’m gonna take my camera.”

“Wait, where’s Rog?”

“Out for a smoke.” You gave him a nod and you reached the back door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

You didn’t know why but you were always nervous around him. You had known him for years by know but over time you started to feel something more for him. Of course he wasn’t aware of your feelings and you weren’t planning on telling him the truth. You were okay with how things were developing and you were too afraid to lose him, so you stick with the best friend’s tag.

As soon as you opened the door you heard whispers coming from the dark, so you took a step forward in order to try to find him. “Rog?” No answer. More whispers and a chuckle. “Roger?”

And then you saw him. His hand was under some girl’s skirt and his lips were on her neck.

“Oh my god.” You covered your eyes with your hands as you moved back to go back inside. That’s when he noticed you.

“Y/N! Fuck, hey!” He quickly reached you, grabbing your wrist to make you turn towards him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t supposed to see that. Freddie told me you were-”

“It’s okay, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Oh god” You murmured, covering your eyes again as you couldn’t stop thinking about what you just saw. Roger chuckled at the sight of you embarrassed and took both of your wrists, moving them away from your face in order to look at you in the eyes. “Don’t be shy, bijou.” You tried not to pay attention to the nickname he had given you. Bijou. He called you that since the very first time you had met.

“Yeah, it’s not like it’s the first time it happens.” As his roommate stuff like this happened more often than you liked to admit.

You couldn’t help but glance at the girl leaning against the wall, who waved at you and said “Wanna join?”

“God, no.” You glanced back at Roger and you cleared your throat, trying not act like he hurt you. He did, and it wasn’t even the first time. It was obvious that he was a handsome, talented and smart man and the fact that he was slowly becoming a rockstar worked in his favour. All girls fell at his feet- you did too, but somehow you were the only one who actually knew him. You knew - and loved - the real Roger, not the rockstar facade.

“I gotta go back inside, Fred needs help.”

He looked at his feet and nodded, giving a quick glance at the girl in the back. “Yeah, ‘kay.”

And without saying anything else you went looking for Freddie. As soon as you got back inside the pub, you leaned against a wall and took a deep breath. Tears were about to run down your face but you forced yourself not to cry. You had to act like if nothing happened, you had to be strong. You noticed John looking at you from the other side of the hallway so you gave him a little smile and he waved at you. Right before the start of the show Freddie handed you his camera and during the gig you took a few pics of all of them.

Despite everything you were having a lot of fun. You danced and sang along with Freddie, showing Brian your thumbs up as soon as he spotted you.

You met Roger’s gaze a few times, but you always looked away. You couldn’t stop thinking about what you saw out of the pub and you couldn’t stop thinking to the fact that you wished you were that girl.

And you couldn’t ignore the fact this the girls surrounding you were crazy about him. Who wouldn’t be? He was extremely hot while drumming. He was irresistible with his long, brownish hair. His shirt was obviously unbuttoned, exposing his bare chest covered in sweat and the plenty necklaces he was wearing. He knew the effect he had on girls and he liked to exploit it.

You tried really hard to ignore him and towards the end of the gig you went to grab something to drink, taking the opportunity to take a seat and give your legs some rest. You were looking at the pics you had taken while you waited for your drink when you heard a voice behind your back. “I guess you know the band.”

You had never seen that man but you couldn’t deny he was a handsome guy. His blonde hair reminded you of Roger. You gave him a nod before focusing again on the pics.

“I’m Rufus.” He said, and you shook his hand as you answered “Y/N.”

“Is someone of them your boyfriend?” He sat right next to you and looked at you with a big smile. You shook your head, giving a glance at the bartender and hoping it wouldn’t take long.

“Nope, they’re just friends of mine.”

“Glad to hear that.” You smiled at him as Freddie said goodbye to the crowd. You knew it took them at least half an hour to load the van so you were glad you had a little company in the meanwhile.

“And why’s that?” You said with a smile, thanking the bartender as she handed you your drink.

“Because it means that a beautiful girl like you isn’t dating anyone.”

“I could still have a boyfriend” You said with an amused smile. You glanced to the stage but it was empty and you couldn’t find the boys anywhere. They were probably taking a few minutes off before packing.

“Do you?” Rufus asked you and you were about to answer when you were interrupted.

“You ready to leave, love?” Roger stood right next to you, his hand placed on your back as he looked at you with a little smile. Rufus gave you a confused look and you could easily understand why. Roger was acting weird.

“Are we already leaving? I thought you had to pack.”

“Brian’s taking taking care of it.” He didn’t glance at Rufus, not even once. His attention was all on you.

“Oh, ‘kay then.” You gave him a nod before turning to Rufus. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

He smiled at you and stood up, as to show that Roger wasn’t a threat to him. “Could I at least get your number?”

“Sure, let me-”

“We really have to go.” Roger cut you off and he basically dragged you away from Rufus.

“Roger, what the fuck?” You shrugged his hand off you and took a step back.

“What?” He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You literally dragged me away!”

“I thought you might need some help with him.”

He wasn’t making any sense. “With Rufus?”

“You even know his name?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

You puffed and walked away. Roger followed you silently but as he stopped right next to you, you could feel he was mad. “I though he was bothering you.”

“He wasn’t.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

You reached the boys, who were already packing. Clearly Brian wasn’t taking care of it, considering the fact that they were struggling to pack Roger’s drums. You kept quiet for a while as you waited for the boys the get ready. Roger glanced at you a couple of times but you were too mad to look back at him. How dared he? He could have his casual dates and shags and you couldn’t even give your phone number to a boy?

The boys sensed that something was wrong between you and Roger, considering the fact that the two of you usually would be messing around till Brian had to drag you home.

“You okay?” John asked and you gave him a nod. You could feel Roger’s gaze on you and you tried not to look back at him.

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

“Did he do something?”

“He’s been just... Roger, y’know.”

John softly laughed at you before heading back to Fred. As soon as they finished packing, the five of you headed to the parking lot.

“You comin’ home with me?” Roger asked and you shook your head.

“Deaky’s giving me a ride.” You knew he was hurt, and so were you, but you had to spend some time away from him.

You ended up arriving at your flat before him, so you decided to kill time by taking a shower. When you got out of the bathroom he was sitting on your bed, his elbows on his knees as he waited for you.

“Is that my shirt?” Roger gave a quick glance at your tee with a smirk on his face but you could tell that there was still something wrong.

“Yeah, it smells good.” You stood right in front of him with your arms crossed as you tried to find the right words to bring back the previous subject.

But Roger beat you to it. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Hell yeah I am, but I’d never kick you out.” You met his gaze and for a brief second you even forgot why you were mad at him.

“What happened tonight with that girl- I swear it won’t happen again.” You were surprised by his words.

“It’s already happened before.”

“Yeah, but it won’t happen again. I swear it, Bijou.”

You gave him a nod and stood silent. You gaze fell at your feet- you couldn’t stand to be this close without touching him.

“‘m sorry, didn’t want to ruin your night.”

“Rog.”

“No, Y/N, I mean it. If that Rudolf-”

“Rufus” You cut him off, amused by his behaviour.

“Rufus, yeah. If you like him that much-”

“Rog, I barely know him.”

You both stood quiet for a while but he didn’t look away from you. His gaze made you feel nervous and your heart was beating faster than ever. You didn’t even know with what courage you said the following words, but you did. “Are you jealous?”

“I’m what?”

“Jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“‘kay.” You could not say you were surprised. You knew he didn’t feel for you what you felt for him, but hearing those words was like a stab in the stomach.

“If you’re not, at least don’t ruin my dates.”

“Y/N-”

“Shush, let me finish.” Now you were mad.“I’ve spent years watching you date random girls without saying a word and now that I’ve finally found a guy who’s actually interested in me you literally drag me away from him!”

“For Christ’s sake, you should have seen the way he looked at you!”

“What does it even mean?”

You were both screaming at each other by now. “It was the way I look at you!”

“Roger” You said, speechless.

He cupped your cheeks and placed his lips on yours in an angry kiss. You put both of your hands into his chest, holding into his shirt, fearing that if you let him go you’d fall on the floor. You didn’t trust your legs at all at the moment.

You couldn’t believe it was happening, the situation had improved really quickly. He moaned against your lips, putting a hand on your back in order to get you close to him. Your hands caressed his neck and your fingers slipped into his hair. You were surprised to find out that it felt more right than you thought.

When he leaned back his blue eyes met yours and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I shouldn’t be in love with you. I shouldn’t jeopardise our friendship. But fucking hell, in am. I’m bloody in love with you and I’m bloody jealous of that Rudolf.”

“Rufus” You corrected him again.

“Whatever.” He caressed your cheek with one hand and you closed your eyes at the shivers that his touch was giving you.

“I was afraid you’d never say that, because I love you too. I have for a long time by now.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Nope. I thought you were happy with your rockstar lifestyle.”

“It includes you.”

“Yeah, but as your roommate and best friend.”

“You know me better than anyone. I want you to be my best friend, my roommate but especially my girlfriend.”

You tapped his lips with your finger, fighting to push back a smile at his words. “I’ll think about it.”

His smile grew wider as he hold you close. “Y/N” He said as a warning.

“Just kidding.”

“You’d better.”

“Do you ever think we’re destined? Maybe we met for a reason, that day at Uni.”

“Yeah, that reason was Tim falling on you on the stairs.” You chuckled at the memory of the first time that you met him.

“I’m serious, Rog.”

“Dunno, Bijou. All I know is I wanna spend the rest of my days with you.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor fic #roger taylor x reader #Queen #queen band #queen fic #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fic

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screensirenfic · 5 years

Text

Black Leather - Chapter 38 Warnings: Violence against women and children

Only two minutes had passed, but already I knew it was too fucking long of a time for Steve to be left alone with Billy.

Putting the two of them together was like putting matches to gasoline, and I really had to get out there before someone got turned into a meat stack; that someone most likely to be Steve in this situation.

I crouched next to the lock of the door, pulling a bobby pin from my hair and wedging it into the lock.

Part of the benefits of having a cop for a father meant you had lots of easy access to handcuffs, and I was proud to say, lock picking was one of those skills I’d managed to just pick up over the years.

Luck for me; Mrs Byers only invested in the cheap kind of locks, and jury rigging the mechanism was easier than I thought.

The lock slid open with a satisfying click, and I opened the door, walking out to where the kids were hidden behind the bulk of the sofa.

“Where’s Steve—“ I asked; only to be interrupted by the resounding crash of the door being kicked in.

Billy.

He stormed into the room like a man on a warpath; fists clenched at his sides as if ready for a fight.

“Billy; what have you done to Steve—“ The question slipping out as soon as it popped into my mind; me marching towards him, because If he’d done anything to him, I swear to god I’ll—

UMFFF!

All words were stolen from my mouth as I felt Billy’s hand locking around my neck.

“You think this is fucking funny?” He growled, using his leverage around my throat to back me into a wall; his fingers digging into my skin with threatening pressure.

I didn’t answer; the sound of my pulse too loud in my ears, because I couldn’t breathe! He was fucking choking me!

My hands shot up to where he held my neck in a vicelike grip, nails trying to pry his fingers off me.

“You think you can go fuck around with Harrington behind my back, like I’m some fucking chump—“ He sneered, slamming my head painfully against the wall as he tightened his grip.

“Billy— you’re— hurting— me—“ I managed to croak, pulling at his hand more desperately because I could honestly see it getting darker in here.

“You’ll be hurting a lot more if I find out you’ve been fucking Harring—“

“Leave her alone!” Yelled a voice, but I couldn’t make out who’s; my head already light and getting lighter by the second.

Billy turned his head, loosening his grip ever so slightly, allowing some of the blood to rush back to my head.

“Well, well, well... if it isn’t Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise...” His spat, taking the opportunity to let go of my neck to confront him.

I immediately fell to the floor, coughing and gasping as air rushed back into my lungs; oblivion finally fended off by sweet oxygen.

I gulped it down, vaguely aware of Billy talking to the kids somewhere in the room opposite, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying; my head still too fuzzy to focus.

Once I’d managed to level out my breathing; the flow of oxygen feeling like needles in my throat, I shakily propped myself up so I could reorientate myself.

I could hear threats now, and voices which I think sounded like Lucas and Max as I rubbed at a wet patch at the back of my head, struggling to stay sat up as I fended off a wave of dizziness that threatened to make me puke.

I pulled my hand away, only to see red.

I was bleeding.

Suddenly, I heard a loud SLAM; and I had hope for a minute that it might be Steve coming to the rescue, but then I heard the kids shouting.

“Let him go!”

“Billy-“

“Get off me-“

The words blended into one, but I didn’t need to hear them to tell the kids were in trouble.

I attempted to push myself to my feet, only to fail miserably and stumble back down onto my ass.

Where the fuck was Steve?!

He should be back here by now!

Unless...

I tried not to dwell on the thought; my stomach churning at the possibilities-

But no; I couldn’t afford to think like that right now.

Those kids needed me!

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me; maybe you will: you stay away from her!” Threatened Billy; and I could hear the aggression in his voice, the very real threat that he might hit a child.

I could see his shape through the doorway, holding Lucas a foot off the ground by the collar; the kids gathering around in protest, but all of them too scared to intervene.

“STAY AWAY FROM HER! You hear me?!” Billy continued to bellow, shaking Lucas hard against the shelf with every word, and I dared to look at the front door with no luck.

Come on; come on, Steve!

“I said — GET OFF!!” Yelled Lucas; finally managing to kick up at Billy and land him straight between the legs.

He dropped the kid like a bag of rocks, and stumbled back, clutching at his bruised manhood.

Shit! This wasn’t going to end well.

My eyes quickly scanned the room for something; anything, to distract Billy, before landing on my shotgun left disregarded on the floor.

It would have to do.

“Oh; Sinclair - you’re dead! You’re so dead-“ He roared, gearing up to attack the kid as he straightened up, but he wasn’t quick enough.

Chh Chh!

“You first.” I responded coldly; already standing unsteadily on my feet with the cocked shotgun trained on the back of his head.

Billy froze; just like Tommy had in the parking lot last year, and for a moment I thought that was enough.

Then I heard a deep throaty chuckle that made my veins run like ice and my palms grow sweaty.

Billy turned slowly; that slightly feral look in his eyes as he grinned viciously at me.

“I should’ve guessed you’d get back up...” He remarked, looking absolutely unfazed by the fact I had a shotgun levelled at his skull.

“Billy; I’m gonna give you one last chance to leave peacefully—“ I warned, tightening my grip around the barrel of the gun.

“Nice try, sweetheart; but we’ve had this conversation before...” He interrupted me in a low gravelly tone, as he slowly began to advance on me without a hint of fear of the gun in my hands.

“And we both know how that went; don’t we?”

“Billy; I’m not fucking around. I will shoot you...” I promised; trying not to let my hands shake, because goddamnit; I wasn’t scared, but I don’t know if I could shoot a man, let alone one I might’ve had feelings for.

“You know; I don’t think you will...” Billy flashed me a sinister smile, taking the rest of the space between us in two steps.

I stepped back; still trying to keep my distance, despite me being the one with the gun, but he was faster.

He grabbed hold of the shotgun’s barrel; not ripping it from my hands like I thought he would, but twisting it till it was pressed against me, acting like a bar at the bottom of my throat.

He leaned in close; his face centimetres away from my face so I could smell the cigarettes on his breath; and was that liquor?!

“Instead, you’re gonna go get in the car like a good girl, and wait for me...” He growled, pressing me hard against the wall, until I could feel the metal digging into my windpipe.

“And maybe, I’ll be nice to you...”

“Fuck you!” I snarled; spitting a glob of saliva in his face, because fuck him for thinking I’d do anything he asked after that show.

It landed on his face, dripping down his cheek in a silvery trail, and for a moment I thought I might’ve landed myself in hot water.

He lifted his hand, wiping it away and shaking it onto the flor, before leaning in close to whisper in my ear...

“Don’t worry; sweetheart. I’m planning on it��

I could feel his breath on my neck, teeth nipping at my ear, and I closed my eyes; willing it all to be over; because I couldn’t do this again, not with the kids right there.

Blurry flashbacks of Halloween raced through my mind; tears trailing down my face, a wet feeling between my legs, all soundtracked by Billy’s sadistic laughter.

“C’mon, sweetheart. No smart comeback?” He muttered; the pitch and phrasing somewhere between a moan and a threat, but he was right.

I had no comebacks.

I just wanted him to stop, and—

“How’s this for a comeback?” Snapped a familiar voice that sent my heart aflutter.

Billy span, only to be met with a closed fist sucker punching him straight in the jaw.

Billy stumbled back, releasing his grip on the gun so it clattered to the floor, freeing me.

I looked up at my White Knight; a suitably muddied Steve Harrington ready to knock Billy on his ass for good.

Billy wiped blood away from a freshly split lip, glancing down at the streak of red with a look of disbelief; and was he impressed?!

“You’ve got some fire in you after all; huh?” Grinned Billy; the fresh blood smeared on his face making him look half crazy.

“I’ve been waiting to meet this ‘King Steve’ I’ve been hearing so much about...”

“Get. Out.” Steve spat; pointing at the door with cold hard resolution.

Billy roared with laughter, as if Steve bossing him about was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard, but I sensed no warmth in it.

I was about to warn Steve to keep his guard up, when Billy made a swipe at him.

His fist swept towards Steve’s face, but Steve was ready for it, quickly ducking out of the way before retaliating with a punch of his own.

It landed, and I could hear the crunch of cartilage against bone as Steve’s fist made contact with Billy’s nose.

“Kick his ass, Steve!!” Yelled Dustin alongside a chorus of encouragement from the other kids, and for a moment my heart soared, because fuck; Steve was gonna win a fight!

Steve was gonna win a fight against Billy Hargrove!

Steve hit Billy with another punch, and then another, and then another; and it honestly looked like he was winning as he began backing Billy into the kitchen.

With one sweeping haymaker, Steve sent Billy stumbling back into the stove; Billy barely catching himself from falling on the edge of the stovetop.

Steve reeled back his fist for another blow, when Billy dived back into action, picking a dirty plate up from the Byers’ overflowing sink and smashing it into Steve’s face.

Steve stumbled back, caught completely of guard by the dirty tactic, and reeling from a potential concussion.

He lifted his hand up, touching where a shallow cut bloomed with blood.

“Steve!!” I yelled, panic dawning upon me as Billy began advancing on him; Steve’s previous benefit of surprise now lost, and Billy ready to pay him back tenfold.

“Billy; stop!!” Petitioned Max, but her pleas fell on deaf ears as Billy grabbed Steve by his jacket collar, pulling him towards him.

“You think you can fucking try and steal my girl, then try and tell me what to do?” Sneered Billy, before head butting Steve straight in the face without a moments hesitation.

Steve dropped to the floor; his eyes flagging behind his eyelids, but I found myself frozen to the floor, because this was what I was afraid of.

Billy was gonna fucking murder Steve and there was nothing I could do about it.

Billy wasted no time in straddling a barely conscious Steve, kneeling over him as he began raining down punches on his face, clearly intending to maim.

Steve couldn’t even fight back, near unresponsive and slipping further away with every punch.

I got to my feet, acting on pure instinct as I picked up my shotgun once more, levelling it at the back of Billy’s pretty blonde head.

I cocked the gun as Billy continued beating the shit out of Steve; animalistic grunts filling the air as he became more like a beast than a man.

My finger rested on the trigger, but I couldn’t do it; goddamnit!!

Even as he was about to kill my best friend; I couldn’t shoot him.

I just kept seeing the same Billy from last night; that sweet smile, those soft pretty blue eyes.

This couldn’t be the same boy.

I felt my hands shake, and I could barely keep the barrel level; the gun feeling impossibly heavy in my hands.

I lowered the barrel, even as I could see Steve’s eyes drift shut; unconsciousness taking him as Billy just kept hitting him and hitting him.

The kids screamed and yelled murder, but it all sounded muffled beneath the sound of blood pounding in my ears.

My eyes went blurry as I let the gun fall limp at my side; the surreal image of Billy’s fists rising and falling against Steve’s skin, red blood staining his knuckles, although I didn’t know if it was his or Steve’s.

I could see the same blood dripping down Steve’s face, staining it dark red, and I just wanted to wake up and see it was all a terrible nightmare.

For this all to be a dream.

But it wasn’t.

And goddamnit; he was gonna kill Steve and there was nothing I could do about it!

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parabellumrpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, J! You’ve been accepted to play Jackson Sinclair. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

A/N: I loved the way you wrote about Jack being able to have a good home life and still be an amazing leader in a crime organization. All in all, I think you’ll make a great Jackson, and I loved seeing all the different sides of him in your para samples. Congratulations!

IC INFORMATION —

CHARACTER DESIRED

Jackson Sinclair.

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

Jack is a lot of things. He’s able to adapt to his surroundings. At home, he puts his work away and is just a father to his children and a husband to his wife. At work, he’s strong and intimidating. He knows not to lead with his feeling, instead he leads with his head. He is fiercely protective of his siblings, fiercely protective of his kids, but he does not act irrational. Every plan he has is carefully crafted. Everything he says to anyone is also carefully crafted. One probably wouldn’t suspect that he was a boss if they did not know already. He’s just that good at flipping his switch on and off.

Another important thing to note is that one of Jack’s goals is to not become his father. Right now he feels like he’s unfortunately following in his dad’s footsteps. He finds himself more at a breaking point than not because of Paityn’s disappearance. He’s beginning to wonder if it’s just in his genes to be ruthless. It’s not what he wants, his goal was to be better than his father.

I think it’s important to also talk about this kidnapping. Jack knew this was going to happen. And now he’s deadset that it was the Costello’s, which is only going to cause more of a rift in Chicago. Since he’s so focused on the Costello’s, the Aleman’s aren’t even on his radar. That is going to be a problem for him if they sneak up while he’s so distracted.

He partially feels like his sister getting kidnapped is his fault. If he could bring his sister back in any way, he could. He should’ve done more to stop the wedding. He could’ve done more now that he looks back on it.

WRITING SAMPLE

Sample 1

Gun TW, Violence TW, Death TW

Even though he was supposed to let those under him do the dirty work, Jackson liked doing it himself. And when someone almost tried to keep his weapons from him, he had to make an example out of him. “Please, c’mon you know I have two kids to feed at home,” The man in front of him said, begging on his knees. He understood where the guy was coming from, but he should’ve thought about that before pocketing Jackson’s arms dealings. That’s not how things worked around here.

“You should’ve thought about that before you tried to fuck me over. What were you expectin’? For me to just forget about it? That’s not how it works around here and you know it,” Jackson put his hand out, reaching for someone to give him a gun. In an instant, he shot him in the temple, walking away from the mess that he just created.

“Someone clean that up,” He commanded as he walked away.

Some things had to be done, even if they were hard. Sure he enjoyed this, it brought him back to his days in California, but this was more than that. He had to protect what his father built, what his family had built. Jack wiped his cheek where the blood spattered with his handkerchief. At least, he was still able to separate his work life from real life. This side of him only came out when he was working and he was able to put it right back inside of him. It truly was a gift.

Sample 2

Having Jackson Jr. waiting up for him was probably the highlight of his night. Jackson took off his coat, which protected from from the chilly Chicago winter.

“Daddy!” He exclaimed, causing the older blond to bend down and welcome his son into his arms.

“Hey buddy!” He shouted. All that he did didn’t matter once he got home, because he left his work at work. Here, he was just a loving father and husband. “I missed you so much!” Jackson kissed his son’s head. “Where’s your brother and sister?” He whispered.

“They sleeping, I needed to stay up for you!” His son insisted. Jackson looked forward to coming home and being with his family. It didn’t matter what he had done that day, all of that was wiped away when he walked into his home.

“Where’s mama?” He asked his son, and his son pointed to the living room. The way that Jackson grew up, with being underneath Johnny’s thumb, he never wanted it to be like that for any of his three kids. He vowed to never yell at his children, never to jump to conclusions with any of them.

Once he became a father, something inside of him sparked. It made him want to be a better man, better than he even was. His family grounded him. And it’s probably the only thing that’s keeping him from exploding at this very moment. Without Charlie and the kids, he probably would have collapsed, exploded even. But he’ll keep going for them.

Sample 3

“I can’t fucking believe her!” He raised his voice, raising his arms to look for something to hit. He knew the Costello’s, nothing was ever this simple for them. Luca had an agenda, he must have one. If anything, Jackson was a good people reader, you had to be in his line of work. “Does she know what they’ll do to her once she’s apart of their family? They’ll kill her. Or brainwash her, god dammit!”

He was glad that Charlie dragged him out of that room before he said something that he would regret. He wasn’t normally like this but when it came to his family, he didn’t play around. It was his job to protect his siblings, his job to make sure that everything went smoothly regarding his family. And now this? This was like a stab in the back from Paityn. He wasn’t mad at his little sister, though, he could never be mad at her. He was mad at the Costello’s for trying to insert themselves in her life. It wasn’t fair to Paityn, she was going to get her heart broken at some point or another. And it was up to him to stop it.

“I’m gonna make this go away. She cannot run off into the sunset with a fuckin’ Costello!” He wouldn’t let it happen under his watch. He just couldn’t. This was his baby sister they were talking about, after-all. The Costello’s had some fucking guts trying to ruin his family. His family was the one place that he felt they could never infiltrate on. Boy, was he wrong.

#accepted

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