#like i'm not even exaggerating there are tears running down my face right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unclewaynemunson · 8 months

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Alt version of this post bc too many people asked for both <3

It's Saturday night and, like almost every Saturday night, Eddie wishes he didn't have to be at some jock party. The flashing lights, the scent of cheap mixed drinks, the incredibly mediocre loud music... And worst of all, the fucking jocks. Everywhere.

'Eddie!'

He looks up to find Steve, with a dopey smile on his face, basically skipping towards him and throwing his arms around his neck. Oh. He didn't know Steve still went to parties like those. Hadn't seen him at any of them in a while. But as soon as he gets wrapped up in an enthusiastic full-body hug, he decides there's one jock, and one jock only, that he doesn't mind running into at those parties.

'Eddie, what're you doin' here?' There's an unfocused look in his eyes and he wobbles on his legs a little bit, grabbing tighter onto Eddie for support. The touch burns through Eddie's t-shirt and he tries to ignore the shiver running down his spine.

'I didn't know you liked parties!' Steve drops his voice, slurring: 'I thought you hated the jocks.'

Eddie can't help but smile. 'I hate all jocks but one, big boy,' he tells Steve. 'Not here to party, only to get some cash.' He rattles with the metal lunchbox in his hands to illustrate his point. 'Can you let me go now so I can get on with my business, pretty please?'

'Noooo,' Steve says with an exaggerated pout. 'I'm too happy you're here! Dance with me!'

Eddie chuckles. 'I don't think you're in any state to dance right now. Jesus, Stevie, I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted before. Thought you were planning to pick up a girl tonight?'

'I was,' Steve says, suddenly sounding oddly serious. 'But it doesn't matter. Just needed to forget. The rum helped, too.' He frowns. 'Til you showed up.'

'Forget what?' Eddie asks, trying to make sense of this drunken string of words.

Something happens; something that's been happening quite often lately. Steve's eyes flash downwards, just for a second, right to where Eddie's lips are.

Eddie's heartbeat involuntarily picks up speed.

'What did you need to forget, Steve?' Eddie asks again.

'Can't tell you,' Steve mumbles so softly that Eddie can barely make it out over the loud music. 'I don't wanna make you feel guilty. I'm not judging you, y'know. 'S fine.'

He abruptly lets go of Eddie and takes a step away from him, stumbling right into some girl who pushes him back with an annoyed scoff; if Eddie weren't still standing right behind him, he would've fallen on his ass for sure.

'Alright, you're not making any sense tonight, big boy, but I can't in good conscience let you stay here by yourself. How 'bout I'll drive you home?'

Eddie glances at his watch. If he hurries, he can probably still be back to do what he came here for before the good part of the party is over. He does kinda need the cash.

'Can't,' says Steve. 'Can't go home with you.' Something in his voice is breaking and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and Eddie still doesn't understand what's wrong; he feels like he's overlooking something huge, something that should be obvious.

'Let's just go outside to talk, then?' he suggests.

'Can't. Dance with me, Eddie.'

But when Eddie starts gently tugging Steve towards the open door leading to the garden, Steve easily lets himself be led outside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath when the cool night air reaches his lungs, as if one gulp of fresh air will instantly make him sober up. But he's still swaying on his feet, making Eddie grab onto him tighter.

Eddie likes to think of himself as moderately strong, but unfortunately, hauling 180 pounds of muscled jock around is starting to take its toll on him. He spots a bench in a secluded corner of the garden and guides Steve towards it.

'This better?' he asks.

'Yeah,' Steve breathes out. Even now that they're both sitting down, Steve keeps clinging onto him. 'Look at the stars, Eddie.'

Eddie looks up at the scattering of lights twinkling far above them - but he can feel Steve's eyes still burning into his face.

When he directs his gaze back to the guy sitting next to him, Steve's face is even closer than before. The starlight is reflected in his hazy eyes, tiny specks of silver hidden in various shades of brown and black.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Steve whispers, looking at Eddie with nothing but admiration behind that glassy drunk gaze.

Eddie almost forgets to breathe. He knows that it seemed like he and Steve were headed exactly toward something like this for a while now, but he still can hardly believe that it is real. That Steve Harrington is really looking at him like he's just as precious as the stars in the sky above them.

He brings up a hand, gently caresses Steve's soft cheek.

'Maybe you don't have to wish,' he whispers back, unable to stop his eyes from flashing towards Steve's beautiful lips for a moment. 'Tomorrow. When you're not drunk anymore. If you still remember this.'

'No.' Steve shakes his head, so fiercely it makes his hair flap in all directions and his complexion at least two shades paler. 'Can't.'

'Why do you keep saying that, Steve?' Eddie asks softly.

'Cause.' For a moment Eddie thinks Steve is gonna grab his ass, but then... he randomly frees Eddie's handkerchief – the one with the skulls – from his back pocket.

'Cause of the Russians.'

Eddie can only stare at him in confusion.

'They tied me up,' Steve all but whispers. Eddie hates how small and broken his voice suddenly sounds.

He has always known – broadly speaking – about what happened to Steve and Robin miles beneath Starcourt last year. He's never actually heard Steve talk about the details, though. All he knows is that he and Robin were captured by Russian spies and somehow made it out alive. He could always see how difficult it was for Steve to talk about it whenever it came up, but he never wanted to pry. And now here they are, at some goddamn high school jock party of all places, and all of a sudden Steve willingly brings it up.

'I was with Robin,' Steve continues, still in that scared and broken voice. 'And they tied us to a chair. We couldn't move. And they – they hurt me. They hit me. 'Til I was bleeding all over. I thought I was gonna die. Robin thought I was dead.'

'Jesus Christ, Steve,' Eddie breathes out, tightening his grip around Steve's torso.

'So I can't,' Steve mumbles, holding up Eddie's handkerchief as if it's some kind of logical explanation for whatever it is he's trying to tell Eddie.

'Wh- What?'

'I know what it means, Eddie,' he says, as if he's even remotely making sense right now. 'You know John?'

'Who the hell is John?' Eddie only keeps finding himself more and more lost in this conversation.

'My cousin,' Steve says, like it's obvious, like he's ever talked about some cousin named John to Eddie before. 'The one in New York. He knows all about that shit, right? He sends me the good magazines sometimes when my parents aren't home. That's how I know.'

'Know what?'

Steve only waves around with that stupid handkerchief again.

'You're flagging, aren't ya? You like pain. Like BS... BM...'

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' he asks. 'It's – this is a metal thing. It looks metal. I literally have no idea what you're – flagging?'

Now Steve's face finally mirrors the confusion Eddie has been feeling for the past ten minutes.

'Are you serious?' he asks, for one second showing more clarity in his eyes than Eddie has seen all evening.

Eddie nods.

'So it's not...' Steve stops himself, swallows, frowns. 'You're not into, like, hurting people and shit?'

And finally, it all clicks together in Eddie's mind: the repeated chorus of I can't, the story about the Russians, the goddamn handkerchief... Flagging. BDSM.

'Why the hell would I get off on hurting you, Steve?' is all he can get out of his mouth.

And Steve honest-to-Satan starts giggling; it sounds so relieved that Eddie kinda feels like giggling too, scary metal image be damned.

'I dunno, it's more common than you think,' Steve mumbles. 'I wouldn't judge you, alright? But I knew I could never give you that. No matter how much I like you. And then you'd get bored of me.'

'Oh, Steve,' Eddie whispers out. 'You don't need to worry 'bout that, I swear. For all I care, we can have the most vanilla sex in the world forever. Or never have sex at all. As long as it's with you... I'm good.' Eddie cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth: it sounds too cheesy, too sincere. He kinda hopes Steve will have forgotten this particular part of their conversation tomorrow morning.

But Steve doesn't look at him like he thinks it's stupid at all: his eyes are wide and he's smiling a soft smile.

'You sure? You won't get bored?'

Eddie chuckles. Now that he's being too goddamn cheesy anyway, he might as well double down on it. 'I can't imagine getting bored of getting to hold this body in a million fucking years. In any way you'll have me.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh before he buries his head against Eddie's chest.

'Can I bring you home, now?' Eddie asks.

There's a twinkle in Steve's eyes when he lifts his head again.

'Ooohhh... You wanna have the most vanilla sex in the world with me now?'

A chortle escapes Eddie's lungs.

'Um, maybe tomorrow, when you're not drunk off your ass,' he answers with a wink. 'For tonight, just lemme get you to bed, 'kay?'

'Okay, big boy,' Steve answers, and Eddie can't help but laugh before he presses a kiss against Steve's forehead.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #thought i'd finally put in my own 2 cents about them hanky debate #if you even care #seriously have fun with your hc's however you like but #let's address the trauma here alright #(and let them have the most boring vanilla sex forever i guess)#can you tell i'm in my soft steddie era?#I JUST NEED THEM TO BE SOFT GODDAMNIT #maybe it's my own yearning but LET THEM BE SOFT #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fruity ficlet #tw alcohol

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lovifie · 2 months

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 12: Finale

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

“You are not listening!” You shout, frustrated with the man.

In the couple of weeks that you have known and lived with them, you never expected that you would end up arguing with them. Even less with Price.

“No, Birdie. You are the one that needs to listen!” The man argued back.

“You got me fired, John! What else do you want me to hear?” You ask, running your hands through your hair.

It finally set in, the reality that the idyllic life of living with the four of them without a worry was just an illusion. You were here because you were hiding, and they were here because they were hiding you.

“I didn't get you fired, Birdie. Your boss did.” Price says, crossing his arms.

“Don't get sassy with me! He told you that they needed to know if I could get back to work any soon or they would be forced to fire me and you told them to do so!” You shout again, feeling like Price is lying to your face. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because you hate that job!” He shouts back. “And you don't need to work!”

“Yes, I do, Price! Yes, I do!” You say, a dry laugh leaving your throat. “Like everyone! I can't just live sponging off of you guys!”

“That's not what's happening and you know it, birdie!” He exclaims. “Don't manipulate the situation into making it look like a bloody transaction!”

“I'm manipulating the situation?!” You ask, pointing to yourself.

“Yes! You are making it look like we are paying you to stay with us, birdie!” He explains, moving his hands to his hips.

“Oh, for god's sake, Price!” You exclaim, rubbing your face. “Why don't you exaggerate it a bit more?! I don't even know why I'm arguing with you about my job!”

“Neither do I?! Because I think it is pretty much settled!” He says, walking away towards the kitchen.

“IT IS NOT SETTLE!” You scream, shocked by his response. “The reason why I don't know why we are arguing is because I don't know who gave you the right to choose over me!”

That makes him turn around, looking at you like you grow a second head. “Well, excuse me. For believing I have a say in your life, I just assumed I could since we bloody love each other and all that!”

“Don't pull that shit on me, Price! This has nothing to do with love!” You say, crossing your arms. “I don't have a say on your work! So why should you have it on me!”

“It's not the bloody same!” He says, rubbing his face.

“It's not for you because it doesn't benefit you!” You scream, looking back when you hear the door open as Gaz, Soap and Ghost enter the house. The three of them having left the house not too long ago to buy breakfast.

“What's going on? We could hear the shouts from outside.” Gaz asks, entering first and looking between Price and you, seeing the wide cliff between the two of you.

“Nothing!” Price barks, crossing his arms again.

You ignore the looks on everyone's face, instead walking to the door.

“Where are you going now?!” Price asks, moving to be able to see you.

“Out! So I can fucking breathe without feeling I'm choking!” You say, opening the door after the boys closed it.

“Don't go far!” Price says, still caring under all his bad mood

“I KNOW I CAN'T GO FAR!” You say, slamming the door on your way out.

You hate screaming, hate shouting, hate raising your voice and even more if it is at Price or any of the men inside. It's not their fault and screaming at each other is not the way to fix it. But you can't help it, tired of being pushed around at everyone's mercy without asking what's your choice.

Sitting down on the step right outside the house, not wanting or needing to go any further, you hide your face behind your hands, letting your palms get wet with your tears.

“Hey, you alright?” A man's voice says, making you look up, to come face to face with an unfamiliar face.

You don't have time to answer, because something hits the back of your head and everything blends to black.

Price updates the boys once you are out, he tells them your ex-boss called, told him you needed to get back to work the next day or he would fire you, he tells them how he told him to go ahead since you couldn't go back to work jet, he tells them about how he wasn't able to tell you about the empty position at base that you could filled to work with them because you started screaming, he tells them about how he lost his cool and just screamed back instead of explaining.

He tells them everything, feeling like the worst person in the world for making you leave the house with tears on your face. It's Gaz the first one to stand up. “I'll check on her.” He mumbles, as he walks outside to an empty staircase. He walks down, checking both sides of the street only to find it just as empty.

An anxious feeling starts to brew on his stomach, entering back to the house with a worried expression on his face. “She's gone.” He says almost casually, as if not voicing one of the biggest fears the men around him have had for the last month.

“What do you mean she's gone?” Soap asks. “She must be around the block, she'll be back in a bit, mate.”

No one believes him, not even himself. You wouldn't have walked out of his sight like that, not without dragging them with you, not without a phone, not without telling them.

There is a beat of silence, each debating whether it is plausible that you simply left, all of them feeling that the most possible chance is that something happened to you.

“I'll check the car camera, it is parked right in front of the door.” Ghost says, taking his phone out to check it.

They all check the screen, seeing the door open and close. They see you sit down, body shaking as you cry, Price feeling his heart shrunk at the sight knowing it was his doing.

They then see the two men walking in front of you, how one of them takes advantage that you have your face covered to stand behind you, how the other calls your attention to look at your face, and how once he knows it's you he nods to the other man, who knocks you out hitting you with a bat at the back of your head.

The wave of all the different emotions hitting them at once keeps them in place for a second, paralyzed on their chair. Soap jumps first, talking about checking the cameras on the street, checking the cars, their licence place, anything.

But it doesn't reach Price's ears, the only thing he can hear is the voices in his head telling him that he has failed twice now. The first one he wasn't able to keep you close enough when you left in the middle of the night, and now he was the one that pushed you away.

You were just on the other side of the door a moment ago and now… now he didn't know where you were. All because he didn't explain himself and let his emotions take control of him.

“Price!” It's Ghost's voice that wakes him up, standing beside the sergeants. “Move.”

That's all he says, and that's all Price needs.

They'll get you back, whatever it takes.

Two weeks.

That is what it takes them to finally find a trail.

That is what it takes Price to breathe again.

That's what it takes Simon to let be seen outside the office.

That's what it takes Soap to let himself be embraced by any of the others.

That's what it takes Gaz to stop baring his teeth to everyone.

They have a trail.

And god knows that's all they need.

What you need, is a doctor. A shower. A glass of water. A nap. Anything that is not forced or thrown at you.

Two weeks of torture.

Two weeks of just getting hurt, insulted, humiliated, all of it just for the purpose of causing you pain.

The henchmen of the man you used to say good morning to were the ones that have stolen you away.

The ones that have thrown you into an empty dark room.

The ones that have “interrogated” you about who you worked for.

The ones that have “interrogated” you about how much they paid you.

You didn't say a word, which usually resulted in a punch to the face or a kick to the ribs.

You want to believe that they will find you.

That they will take you back home.

That Price will forgive you for shouting at him.

Hell, if you die and the last thing you did was shout at him.

You'll live.

They'll find you.

Two weeks.

Of fighting with yourself.

The side that says you'll live.

And the side that tells you to give up already.

The second one usually wins.

Like today, when the man that enters the room every day walks up to you, limping and with a knife in his hand.

He yanks your hair, pulling you up on your feet and pressing the knife on your throat. “Make a sound and it'll be the last thing you do.”

He moves you into a chokehold, pushing you in front of him as he walks down the hall. There is shouting and the sound of guns inside the building.

The moment he sees the car where they push you in, the one they saw on the cameras; Price almost needs to pull Simon back from running inside the building.

This is it.

This is the headquarters they couldn't find for so long.

The headquarters where all the important information and the guns they have looked for so long are at.

The headquarters where everything that matters is.

The headquarters where they kept you at.

Price sends Ghost to the building on the other side of the road, not trusting the man in face to face with what they can find inside.

And he obliges, hating the rank differences.

They move in, clearing room after room.

No sign of you.

The move to the second floor.

You are not there.

More and more people that hit the ground when they found them.

You are still missing.

Until you see it.

The unmistakable blue cap on Gaz's head.

And you shout.

You shout louder than you shout at Price.

You shout louder than when Soap scared you hiding behind the door.

You shout louder than when you called for Ghost when you thought he fell on the shower but it was just the shampoo bottle.

You have never shouted at Gaz.

Until now.

And the moment you do you feel the blade dig into your skin, moving your hand between the knife and your neck.

The three of them turn to you, immediately updating Ghost and telling him to move.

The window behind you is almost like a target for a perfect shot.

But Ghost can't shoot.

Not when he can see your head.

Not when there is a possibility that he may hit you.

But he can when you move.

When you grab the blade, breaking the skin of your fingers, and you pull back just enough to squish yourself down.

You are still against his chest, the man still holding you. But Ghost can now see your head, lower than before. And the arms around you quickly go limp, falling forward taking you with him.

A ringing in your ear keeps you from Price's voice calling your name. Everything is dizzy for a moment, there is a warm sensation on your elbow and when you look back a red pool of blood is bleeding onto your clothes.

You liked that t-shirt.

You'll need to try with peroxide, see if you can take the stain out.

Your brain ignores the corpse lying next to you, but for some reason you can't stop looking at the blood on your elbow.

It isn't until Price cups your face, your grimey, bloody and sunken face. And you look up to him, his blue eyes.

And you let yourself cry.

After two weeks.

You cry.

So hard you can't see nor hear anything.

You cling onto Price, hiding your face on his neck, digging your nails on his back needing to feel him under your skin.

Apologies fly from one to the other.

For shouting, for pushing away, for failing to protect, for not shouting, for being taken away.

You feel two more pairs of arms around you, feeling the fourth person only when you start to leave the building.

Not much longer an ambulance arrives, finally taking you to safety.

The four men in the car right behind.

Recovery is just as slow.

No permanent physical damage.

But not all the wounds are on the skin.

Those heal quite fast.

And soon you are back on your feet.

On your scared, wobbly feet.

The boys are back around, always one of them close.

“I'm never leaving you out of my sight again.” Price says, cupping your face as he kisses your forehead. “I don't care if I sound like a madman.”

They make it easy to get back.

Price finally tells you about the job at base, which you gladly apply for.

Surprisingly you got it, and started working soon.

It was easy.

You got a better flat, easy to pay when four more people chime in for the bills.

You got a better job, with better pay and a better boss.

You got, not only one, but four lovers.

And you have all the time of your life to heal everything that's left.

You still wonder how you managed to get into your garage that night.

But now you're glad you did.

And with this, ladies and gentlemen.

Lift Me Off My Feet comes to an end ❤️.

Thanks for joining along, for all the support that you have given me the last couple of months, for the patience between chapters, special thanks to @darkangel4121 for listening to me complain so much and to everyone who has joined and will join the blog.

I love you, my lovelies 💗

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @prettykinkysoul @pagesfalling @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @sodavrr @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz @risingofjupiter @witchthewriter @soupinasock @phantomly27 @arbesa-mind @multifandomheathenannie @spadekip @cmbghost @herefor-tojis-tits @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe

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shy-urban-hobbit · 2 months

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"wait...is this a date?" with Husk & Angel please :3c

Slight C/W for typical Val behaviour

Angel kicked his feet idly where they hung off the arm of the lobby sofa as he scrolled through his socials. He'd only just been able to start moving around without a limp that morning after Val had damn near broken his leg and while he was happy for the break (hah!) from work, he was now starting to go slightly stir crazy after being housebound for two days after Val had decided he was useless while one of his legs was twice the size of the other.

He scowled to himself as he shifted around slightly. He was pretty sure that was a spring digging into the small of his back but he couldn't muster the energy to rectify it - as Hell's most famous pornstar, he'd been in way more uncomfortable positions - he could live with something that wasn't a dick poking him in the back until someone or something gave him a worthwhile reason to move.

"Hey, Legs."

Angel yelped and cursed in quick succession as the sudden appearance of the hotel's resident cat demon made him promptly drop his phone onto his face.

"Asshole." He grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "First ya ditch me, and then ya make me injure myself. I should make ya kiss it better."

"It's not ditchin' ya if it was work." Husk answered as he placed the new bottles on the bar top, "As for the other thing, can I substitute one of those cups of sugar masquerading as a drink?"

Angel sat up to peek over the back of the sofa. Sure enough Husk was stood holding out a hot pink frappe from his favourite coffee place, an eyebrow raised as he shook the cup slightly, enticingly, "Well?"

"I've told ya you're my favourite, right?" Angel asked, making grabby hands until Husk handed it over, the smell of artificial raspberry filling his nose. "What's in the other bag?"

"Nothin' much. You wanna hang out in my room for a while?"

Angel blinked, finger still in his mouth as he paused in licking off melted whipped cream from where it had run down the side of the cup, "Ain't we got another redemption exercise or hugging circle or some shit in like, 5 minutes?" Not that Angel was complaining; Charlie had used his unexpected freetime to really double down on his possible redemption. Whatever had been said in that meeting with Heaven making her more determined then ever and if he had to look at one more crayon drawing or diagram he was going to start tearing his hair out - he may or may not have played up the whole wanting to rest up and heal thing once or twice, just to get her to leave him alone for 5 minutes (and God bless Vaggie for having his back on that one, even if the look she threw him told him she knew he was exaggerating and even though the princess was always quick to comply with minimal fuss and puppy eyes ever since the whole 'boundary crossing' thing).

Husk shrugged, holding out a hand, "Talked to Charlie earlier, we've both got a pass on this one."

"Fine." Angel took the hand without even thinking about it, gingerly testing his leg after laying down for so long - it still ached, but he didn't end up face planting or anything, "But if we end up having to do some weird extra credit thing later on, I'm blamin' you."

"Noted." Husk chuckled as he grabbed the mystery bag and headed upstairs, Angel's hand still in his.

Angel had only been in Husk's room a handful of times but he'd made a game of trying to see if anything was new or even remotely out of place whenever he entered. The small space was so uniformly neat and organised it was almost like a display rather than an actual living space. Part of Angel wondered if it was a control thing - he used to seek some semblance of control over what entered his body and when and what he'd remember through drink and drugs, why couldn't this be Husk's way? It seemed kind of funny now that the old him probably would've purposely moved things around or hidden something, just to fuck with the other.

"Sooo.... anything specific in that fuzzy head or ya just wanna bask in my presence?"

"So fucking humble." Husk opened up a laptop Angel hadn't noticed sat on the bed before now, "And I was thinkin' a movie. You in?"

"Sure. Surprised Al lets ya have one a those. Y'know, with the whole hatin' any tech after the 40's schtick." Angel said as he settled at the head of the bed, using one set of arms to attempt to plump up Husk's measly excuse for pillows.

"Borrowed it." Husk answered, not giving any details about who from (although Angel had a pretty solid idea if the rainbow and heart stickers were anything to go by).

"Oh my fuckin' God. How dense is this broad?" Angel laughed, throwing his head back against Husk's shoulder after having decided the cat was comfier to lean on than his flat pillows, Husk's arm resting on the low headboard behind them, "The guy's been pining since like, day one!"

"I think the dialogue's maybe one step up from the shit they have you spewin' and that's a low fuckin' bar!"

"Hey, it's all in the delivery, an' I got toys that ain't as stiff as these two." Angel crunched on a strawberry lollipop as the two protagonists acted out yet another 'cute' encounter like they had a gun pointed at their heads, "Y'know I'm surprised ya agreed ta this one. I didn't think it'd be your kinda thing."

"It ain't, but the fact it's so bad it's funny is makin' it bearable."

Angel hummed in agreement, snuggling further into Husk's chest fur as the female protagonists stereotypical gay BFF was laying the truth out for her in that the casual 'not a date' had totally been a date.

"Girl, he invited you over, made sure you weren't going to be interrupted, got you your favourite foods -"

Angel snuck a glance at the various wrappers covering the bed after he'd finally been given permission to dump out the contents of the bag.

"Jeez Husk, you raid a candy store an' just grab anythin' pink?"

"...no."

"Oh my god, you just grabbed anythin' pink!"

"I didn't know what you'd like. Seemed a safe bet."

"Well, well, ain't we the cocky one? Ya that sure I was gonna say yes? And ya bet payed off, just so ya know."

"-sat through something he knew would make him want to gouge his eyes out 'cos he knew you'd like it. How many more clues do you need?!"

Angel blinked, this insult to romcoms suddenly feeling a little too on the nose. Husk clearly felt the same if the way he was suddenly showing great interest in the acid rain falling outside was any indication.

"Wait...Husk, is this a date?"

Husk's tail twitched as he bought his attention to the other demon, cheeks slightly pink under his fur and ears dipped slightly, "It can be, if ya want. Or it can just be two friends hangin' out, rippin' a terrible movie to shreds. Your call."

Angel moved slowly, partly because of his leg and partly because he didn't want to spook the other as he sat himself in Husk's lap, mindful not to let his expression slip into the lewd mask he usually had to wear when he was practically straddling someone on a bed as he cupped Husk's jaw so the cat couldn't look anywhere but at him, "Yeah. I want."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #huskerdust #hazbin huskerdust #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #husk #angel dust #angel dust x husk #angel dust/husk #husk/angel dust #husk x angel dust

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pryce0 · 1 year

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Oh My, I'm just lost for Gaz. Can we get some more headcannons on him?

(take as much time as you need to write)

Calming Gaz Down (Headcanons)

gif by; @sgt-gaz

warnings; descriptions of panic attacks

a/n; this is lowkey a fanfic in bullet points lmao my bad

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War has no mercy on anyone, no matter your age or what you’re fighting for. It tears everything and everyone apart that lays in it’s way.

There’s no exception for Kyle and while he isn’t usually wracked with nightmares and flashbacks, sometimes a certain smell will randomly take him back, or his mind torments him right when he’s on the edge of sleep; or the opposite, deep in it.

Kyle never really let anyone help him calm down when his body went cold from panic, when his lungs forgot how to function and when he felt as if his heart would burst behind his rib cage. When he would feel the familiar buzz in his fingertips, the sudden weakness in his knees, he would excuse himself to the bathroom.

Kyle doesn’t see panic attacks as a weakness, no, but he just.. finds himself embarrassed. He doesn’t even understand why he’s embarrassed either, he doesn’t find it embarrassing for anyone else.

He doesn’t immediately let you help him due to his embarrassment. You know he suffers from these panic attacks, but he’s never once let you see him go through it. Until he had to excuse himself to the bathroom of a fancy restaurant; dinner with the team.

You and Price are the first to notice; you exchange wordless glances. Price sips his drink and gives you a subtle nod, and you’re on your way to the men’s bathroom. You open the swinging door and the room is lined with stalls, the room smelling of hand washing soap and cleaning chemicals. The speaker plays soft music, a song from a few years ago, probably. You glance around the room looking for any sign of him, of Kyle.

Your own chest is tight, your fingers temporarily going cold from anxiety every now and then as your eyes go over the bottom of the stalls, looking for Kyle’s shoes. You’re silent and you don’t hear anything; the bathroom seems empty. You sigh and you turn around, your hand reaching for the bar to push open to open the door; but that’s when you hear it.

You almost don’t, but you hear the hitch of a gasp and that’s when you knew. You quickly turned back around, worry in your voice. “Kyle?”

You find him in the biggest stall, the door cracked open. You slowly open the door and your heart absolutely breaks at the sight. “Oh.. Kyle!”

Kyle is a mess, curled up in the corner, one leg near his chest and the other spread out; one hand on his chest and the other feverishly grabbing the tile of the wall in an attempt to ground himself. He’s wheezing and hyperventilating, a crazed and dazed look in his eye as he’s thrashing around.

You immediately run over to him and it’s like you knew what he needed. Your hands cup his cheeks, your thumbs brushing over the skin. Your voice is low and gentle, looking into Kyle’s eyes. Even as you speak, you can tell he’s staring right through you. “Hey, heyhey- Kyle, what’s wrong? You have to breathe,” You breath out. “Kyle, look at me, honey.”

Why are you here? Nononono, you can’t be here, you’ll get hurt and it’s going to be because of him-

He coughs and his hand on the tile on the wall flies to your sleeve; his fingers gripping your sleeve. “I-I’m lookin’-“ Kyle’s voice is wrecked, laced with fear and sadness. You shake your head and bring your face closer to his. “No, Ky, look at me.” Kyle blinks as tears well up into his eyes and he focuses in on your face; now he’s looking at you, but he’s so.. far away. Your stomach churns at the fear in his gaze.

You guide the hand that’s gripping your sleeve to your own chest before cupping his cheeks again. “Breathe with me, Kyle.” You murmur, and you begin to over-exaggerate your breathing. “In for 4…” Shaky Inhale. “Hold for 4…” He whimpers for a moment before holding in his breath. “Out for 7.” Shaky Exhale. It’s better than before.

Your touch burns him and he can’t decide if it’s a good or bad feeling; his body is so cold, so numb from panic but your hands are like warm cookies on a December night after coming in from the cold, like stepping into a warm shower after a cold swim.

Kyle swallows some of his spit in the midst of his sobbing; he wants it to be good, your touch. He decides it’s a good feeling. Your lips are moving, but your words are still barely reaching him. “..nEed, need you-“

You press your lips to his forehead before pressing your forehead against his, looking into his eyes. All Kyle can see is you. All he can feel is you.

Kyle needs physical touch during these times, he needs you to completely take over his senses in any way possible. He needs to see you, touch you, smell you, everything. Anything to escape whatever could’ve triggered him, or just in general; you make everything feel okay for him. Your breathing exercises really help him and he appreciates that you guide him every time from now and in the future.

He also appreciates that you don’t immediately hug him; when he tugs you into one, that’s when you apply firm and comforting pressure. Kyle sobs into your shirt and his breathing isn’t as bad as before, it’s manageable now, but he truly knows he will turn out okay with you here.

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a-random-weeb · 7 months

Note

Hiii can I request prince fyodor x fem reader in an arranged marriage troupe? But reader is more of a “adventurous” type but at the time that was be considered dishonorable for a woman much less a royal woman (I’m putting the time of year as 1920-1930ish if that’s ok with you) and she often times gets in trouble or hurt by her “adventures” when she sneaks out of the palace and also despises getting married because she sees that her freedom is limited now.

oh, I like this idea! I'm gonna write for Fyodor because I'm not good at writing for Fyodor and want to try not to make him too ooc. Sorry if he seems off though

⚠️ Ok, he's really ooc, just a warning ⚠️

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You slam the door and fall to the ground, exhausted. You somehow outran a raccoon after stepping on his tail while having fun running through the woods. You look up to see your parents glaring down at you.

"Where were you?" Your mom snarls.

"Aren't you normally both asleep by now?!" You look at them in shock, judging by the fact it's 1 AM.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep right now?" Your father shouts "You can't keep sneaking out dear, what are you even doing? Partying? You're 18!"

"It doesn't matter, after you get married you'll be stuck inside anyway" your mom sigh.

"I'm not getting marrie-"

"Yes you are. To the prince, it's a business deal. Plus, you'll be a princess, isn't that great?" Your mom beams excitedly "We'll make so much money, and you'll get to be with a hot prince!"

You look up at them in horror "P-prince... As in prince Fyodor?! No!! He's known to be sadistic!!!!" You hop to your feet "You can't just force me to get married!!!"

"We can and we will. Also, you're grounded, stop sneaking out. The wedding is in a week." Your father drags and pushes you into your room, locking the door. You groan, pissed that they have to ability to lock your door. Your room has locks on the windows, you can't escape that way. This whole marriage thing came out of nowhere! And they treated it so casually! You sigh as you flop on your bed, exhausted, you let sleep take over from there.

A week later

Its not over exaggerating to say they had to force the wedding dress on you. You failed to walk in the heels, bit one of the guests, and kept washing your makeup off, your mom was upset to say the least.

"Behave yourself!! Do you want your husband to hate you?!"

"Yes. Yes I do." You look at her with pure determination. You were determined to be as weird and annoying as possible so you could earn your freedom back.

Fyodor P.O.V

I roll my eyes at my parents excitement. Why can they not understand I don't want to get married to some girl with a rich family. She's probably gonna be another stuck up, spoiled, idiot who will be fawning all over me, the fact I'm a prince, and my money. I sigh in annoyance as I stand there, waiting for my 'fiancee' to walk down the isle. Maybe I can play with her feelings, or manipulate her and bring her so down she can't think for herself , just obey my orders, or maybe I can hurt her so bad that- My string of thoughts is interrupted as I watch her ungracefully stumble down the isle. Her makeup is only half done and even so looks like a mess, there's little tears at the end of her dress and she looks like she doesn't want to be here as someone has to drag her down the isle. Odd, normally someone would be overjoyed to marry a hot prince as myself. Perhaps she doesn't know I'm a prince. I chuckle, watching her bite the person who's dragging her, try to run, and then trip because of the heels. She could be quite the amusing one.

When she finally gets up and stands infront of me, I freeze. I have to marry this idiot?! She looks so undignified, I hope this goes well...

Your P.O.V

I stand infront of my soon-to-be husband. He looks well-mannered and dignified, the opposite of me. When it comes time to kiss him, I bite his face. The crowd gaps and he flinches, meanwhile I burst out laughing of the stupidity of the situation. I hear the crowd chatter

"She's so weird."

"Does she have any diginity?"

"I feel bad for the prince."

Our parents force our lips together, and we're officially married.

After the wedding I crash in the hotel our parents rented for us so we can do 'adult things'. Of course, I didn't want to participate, and clearly he didn't either, so we awkwardly lie in the same bed. He looks at me with confusion, so I ask

"What's with that look?"

"I can't can't figure you out." Is all he responds with and continues to stare at me. I proceed to get uncomfortable, so I hop off the bed "I'm going for a walk..."

"I'll come with you."

"It's fine, really!! I want to be by myself!" You awkwardly smile.

"I have the room key, and what if in asleep by the time you get back?"

"Then just give me the key."

"No."

"Why?"

"no."

"Why?"

"no."

"Why?"

"The answer is no, in coming with you!!"

I groan. The reason I wanted to take a 'Walk' was so I could escape and hide at a friend's house, I guess he figured that out somehow.

Fyodor P.O.V

We exit the hotel, I stay completely silent. My new 'Wife' squirmed, clearly uncomfortable. Her intentions were obvious, she wanted to run away, and I can't have that happened. I want this just as much as she does, aka not at all, but at the same time, her running away could cause a lot of future problems I don't want to deal with. The silence as we walk is almost deafening, even for me. The sunset highlights her face, and all that can be heard is the occasional honk from an angry driver, the buildings of the city lights begin to turn off as it gets darker.

Eventually we reach a field with long grass, with a woods just passed, I look at her in confused

"Where are we going?" Her lack of response pisses me off, but I continue to follow her into the woods. I begin to feel like she's gonna attempt murder, she doesn't seem like the type to do so, but I should still be on my guard... I look around, and the second I look away, she runs! I quickly chase her. Did she see something? Is this her escape plan? why in the middle of the woods? It's completely dark out! Apparently too dark for her to see the branch she fell to the ground, cutting herself on a branch. I grab her by her collar, she's unable to run do to the cuts that landed in her her leg when she fell, as well as her rolled ankle.

"Where the hell were you running?! Why were you running?!" I find myself more angry than usual as she cries her eyes out. I throw her and proceed to stomp on her "Answer me!!"

"I-im sorry!" She chokes out. I feel a twinge of guilt, why is she pulling all these emotions from me?! I hate her even more now... I sigh "We're going back. Now." It pisses me off that I feel guilty, but I lift her onto my back gently, making sure not to hurt her more than she already is. I find it adorable when she buries her face in my shoulder. Am I actually falling for my wife?! I sigh in annoyance, she's so clumsy, and annoying, and undignified!... So then... Why do I like her?

Narrator POV:

You bury your face in his shoulder, too exhausted to fight back. You were supposed to meet up with a friend who was gonna let you live with her, but instead, you were being carried home gently.... Wait... Why was he being so gentle? Did he want something? You squirm around a little, flinching at the pain in your leg. He mumbles something about how much you're shaking.

When you arrive back at the hotel he puts you down on the bed and cleans your wounds. You try to get away because of how painful it was, but he just glares at you and holds you down. It's not like you wanted to get married! But maybe he did? After all, at first he seemed so cold, and he still acts that way... or I he? You couldn't tell anymore. What if he hates you and is just acting only to-

"Done!" His word interrupts your string of thoughts as he finishes bandaging your legs.

"Don't move that ankle for a bit..." he sighs. "Don't try to run away, got that?" He glares and you nod. He sighs and climbs over you. "Don't get yourself hurt..."

... He kissed you... on the lips.... Wow...

｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡｡⋆

Idk maybe I'll do a part two. I still have a lot of drafts to finish though so who knows

This also took me forever to write 😭 plus he was way too ooc, but I hope you enjoyed anyway!

Also, does anyone have any tips for writing pour le Fyodor?

#bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fluff #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #Fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #forced marriage #fyodor #dostoevsky bsd #Dostoevsky Fyodor #Fluff #X Reader #Oneshot #fyolai #bungou stray dogs x you #fyodor x y/n #Fyodor x y/n

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agentandreastark · 2 years

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Dead

Stark!Avenger!Reader X Avengers

Summary: Your character gets stabbed during a Hydra Mission.

"Fuck" I cursed as I felt a sharp pain go through my rib. "Erm so guys we have small problem, I may or may not have been impaled through the ribs?"

"What?!!" I heard dad's high pitched scream from the otherside.

"Impaled?!" I heard captain ask in disbelief through the ear piece

"Impaled maybe an exaggeration. More like stabbed." I gritted my teeth, grabbing my side.

"Where are you?"Nat questioned and I heard gun shots from her side,

"It's not that bad" I said firing a shot at one of the Hydra. Hissing as pain coursed through my body.

"Where. Are. You?!" Clint asked with a serious tone. I sure if he could see me right now he would glare at me so hard.

"I see a green spaceship like structure?"

"The lab" Wanda pointed out.

"Underoos check on her you're the nearest" my dad spoke sounding worried,

"Guys I'm fine. I'll last 2 to 4 hours don't worry about me." I hid behind a tree, 'Hydra clearly didn't think this through, so many people could hide out here- oh wait... that's the whole point of it silly me'

"Y/n/n oh god you're bleeding" Spidey landed next to me.

"Yeah no shit Sherlock" I tried to sit up straight but groaned, I had pushed the knife deeper.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" I sucked a sharp breath from the pain, my eyes stinging with tears.

"Don't move!" Peter exclaimed,he knelt down next to me. I closed my eyes a single tear running down my cheek,he picked me up bridal style as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "You're going to be fine, okay? Don't worry. We'll take you to the lab back home okay?" He comforted as I gingerly nodded, my neck down too painful to move.

"Mr. Stark I'm taking her to the lab she's badly injured." he said swinging up in the air.

I probably passed out half way through cause when I woke up I was in the lab, the silver knife taken out and I was bandaged. I tried to get up but I failed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." I heard jelly bean say. "You need a lot of rest" you'll be back in your room in an hour or so. Don't worry." He filled his mug with Chai.

"Parker was freaking out when he brought you in. You should have seen his face, what scared him the most is that you passed out inbetween, he thought you must have died" He laughed,as I smiled along, "Oh well, I'm still here am I not?"

"Oh also," Bruce looked at me dead serious "Don't even try to use your powers for the next few days, you're not strong enough for it."

"Yes sir." I nodded gratefully and gave him a salute.

#fyp #f!reader #marvel #peterparker #angst #peter parker x reader #fluff #tony stark #captain america #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #wanda maximilf #hawkeye #avengers #avengers x y/n

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sturnsgirl · 5 months

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More than friends..

⟡C.STURNIOLO ⟡

IN WHICH Chris and Y/n are bestfriends

⟡•STURNSGIRL •⟡

| Y/N'S POV |

"GOD CHRIS, YOU'RE SO FUCKING SELFISH. GET OVER YOURSELF!" I say yelling at Chris.

"ME SELFISH? ALL I'VE DONE IS CARE FOR YOU"

"RIGHT, SO THAT'S WHY YOU WENT OUT, AND KISSED THE GIRL I HATE! 'CAUSE YOU CARE FOR ME?" we shout back and foward

"IT WASNT LIKE THA-"

"OH YEAH SO THEN WHAT WAS IT CHRIS?"

It was silent..

"Exactly." I say biting my inner cheek before running out of their house. I walk out side to see its dark, pouring rain, and thundering that I couldn't hear from all the yelling.

I check my phone *8:57pm* I sigh and walk into the rain in a tube top and sweatpants.

• Flash Back From Earlier Today •

| Y/N'S POV |

Matt and I were walking to our next class that we had together before I realized I had forgot my algebra text book in my locker.

"Oh shit, Matt I need to grab my notebook. You get to class I'll meet you there." I say smiling at Matt and he gives me a reassuring nod before heading off to our class while I walk to my locker which was a few lockers down from Chris', but he rarely needed things from his locker so sometimes he would let me use it to spare extra things.

I walk through the crowded halls being pushed and shoved left and right trying to get to my locker. I finally reach my locker row and just as i turn i see Chris and Aliza full on making out. I dropped the English notebook I was about to switch out to the ground causing a loud bang to the ground, grabbing Chris' attention as well as maybe 40 other people around us.

Chris pulls away from Aliza looking at me with eyes wording 'I fucked up'. and he did, big time.

"Chris?.." I say saddened and hurt but also angry.

"No.. Y/n wai-" He says trailing off as I run away into my class crying.

Now I should have gone to the bathroom but if Aliza came in there god knows what she would do or say to me. plus I needed Matt.

• FLASHBACK- 2 •

| Y/N'S POV |

Back last year our Junior year of high school I was in class with Aliza. Who was the mean girl, and the perfect,pretty captain of the cheer team. She hated me for.. i don't know why, but it seemed like she hated my bond with Chris as because everybody knows she was in love with Chris, but he had zero interest in her.

We were all sitting in English. Me and Chris, and these two other boys Chris was friends with. I was next to Chris as his two friends were sitting in front of us. I was tired, I had gotten maybe an hour of uncomfortable sleep. so I was barely awake laying my head on Chris' shoulder before Aliza, and her friends walk up to us with a bottle of water in her hand.

I lift my head off chris' shoulder to see what she wanted. But before I could even ask what she wanted she opens the water bottle in her hand and splashes it straight in my face causing me to be soaked.

I froze. I didn't know what to do besides cry. I bursted into tears crying as everyone bursts out laughing, and taking photos and videos. I got up out of my seat running out Chris following after me.

I sobbed running before Chris grabbed me by my shoulder turning me around hugging me holding my head.

"Oh love i'm so sorry, its okay just brea-" I cut him off.

"Chris i- why would she do that? she ruined me!" I say sobbing

• END OF FLASHBACKS •

| Y/N'S POV |

And I wasn't over exaggerating because she did. The whole school went on about this for Months!.. now i don't know why, but it did and Aliza did not stop,And ruined who I was at Somerville high.

________________________________

I finally got home and about an hour passes and my phone rings.

*CHRISSS 🫀🫂* Is calling- answer//decline?

I for some reason answer the phone.

"Hey idiot, open the door I'm freezing"

I hang up the phone, got out of bed, and opened the door.

"what does your pathetic ass want?" I say rolling my eyes.

"Can I come in please? its -8 degrees" He over exaggerates.

I open the door wider signalling for him to come in. I shut the door and face his guilty eyes.

"What do u want?" I say trying my hardest not to cry.

"Look.. Y/n I'm so sorry for kissing Aliza, but that's not the full story, And just- before you cut me off let me explain. Okay so..."

• FLASHBACK FROM EARLIER TODAY •

I was walking with my friend Nate to class realizing I had left my AirPod's in my Lacross bag which was mainly the only thing I needed in my locker. The rest of it is my best friend Y/n's stuff.

I walk to my locker and open locker door half way before Aliza slams it shut. God this bitch again. I say in my head. Aliza has been obsessed with me since freshman year, and I hate her. Especially after what she did to my sweet girl y/n she is my best friend, and I hate Aliza for what she did to her last year.

"What do you want Aliza." I huff already pissed and annoyed.

"oh why I just thought you looked really good today so I just wanted to give you this." she says and before I get to ask what, she slams her lips onto mine holding my face so I couldn't move. I could have thrown up right there. She kissed me for about 5 seconds until a loud bang. It was Y/n. Shit.

"No Y/n wai-" I trail off as shes already gone. I try to chase after her, but she was already gone. Fuck.

• END OF FLASHBACK •

Y/N'S POV

"So that's what happened Y/n/n I'm so sorry I tried pulling away from her but her hands literally wouldn't budge. I'm so sorry you know I would never do that to you. I love you so much I'm sorry."

I felt terrible for what I said to Chris. Hes not selfish or annoying. He's the best, He's perfect, and I was so wrong for what I did. I didn't even let him explain. I felt terrible.

"No no no Chris don't be sorry I should be sorry for what I said. I didn't mean any of it, and I'm sorry for not letting you explain I'm sorry I love you." I blurt out quick.

"Shh its okay I know you didn't mean it love." he says hugging me tightly before letting go. "So are we good now?" He chuckles.

I nod my head yes before speaking.

"Look at you. you're soaked!" I giggle "Its okay I still have your hoodie, and sweats you gave me" I say grabbing his hand, and going upstairs handing him the clothes.

"You know how you have a drawer of clothes in my room cause you're always over?" He asks

"Yeah.. what about it?"

"We should keep one of those here for me" He says letting out a small laugh.

"I would be the one wearing them" I say chuckling

"Yeah you fucking clothe thief" He says holding up his clothes I gave him

"yeah, yeah, shut up" I say before walking out so he can change.

He get's changed, and tells me I can come in.

"So I get the hint you're staying here?" I ask.

"Yeah, but where are your parents?" He questions

"oh they went on a couples vacation i guess" I say as my black, and white 8 month kitty walks in.

"Hey Luna babyyy" I say picking her up. She was super tiny, and very fragile, but shes adorable.

"Ayeee Lunaaa my fav!" Chris says, carefully grabbing her from my hands while I close my door.

"Hey I wanna watch Riverdale so just watch it with me" I tell Chris as i put Riverdale on.

"AGAIN?" He yells startling me and Luna. "Whoops sorry lil Lun (loon), but haven't we watched this together like 8 times already?!" He asks

"Yeah, and we're about to watch it for the 9th" I say grinning

He chuckles but knows there is no changing my mind. I turn my lights off, and turn on my star light projector, and hop in bed next to Chris, and Luna.

Luna lays by Chris' legs and I lay on his chest. Most people might think it's odd that we are this close, but we have known each other since day one. literally! they were in my hospital room while I was being born. Since our parents are best friends, and they were a year older than me, but still our bond is different and I love it.

Eventually I got tired and fell asleep before I knew it with Riverdale still playing, and Chris playing with my hair.

"Good night love" He whisper's shortly before he also falls asleep.

-Madsssss

follow me & @is4belle new TT- @sturnsma

HEYY GUYSS ITS MADS UR FAV IK IK

request down below ,in my dms or here! -> https://www.tumblr.com/sturnsgirl/737532144341090304/hi-im-madi-im-a-day-1-chris-girland-i-started

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets

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corazondebeskar-reads · 3 months

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wip wednesday!

thank you for the tag @janaispunk 🖤🖤

step one: post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet

ok so some of these are really rough and have no titles and I didn't include things like "of rage and ruin" because that's already got a priority order, but here are these:

"I'll take care of you" mini-series

very dark!Din x f!reader

yes, I have a problem, and I'm turning it into a mini-series. no snippet yet, but here's a teaser

You meet the Mandalorian for the first time in an alley. You meet the Mandalorian for the first time in your home. You meet the Mandalorian for the first time in a bunker. You… aren’t sure how you met the Mandalorian, anymore. But you know, now, that no matter how far you get, no matter how much you forget, he’ll always find you.

patrol partner!Joel

ft. switch!Joel but mostly sub!Joel x f!switch!reader

You pull off with a soft pop and look up at him, setting the cool, damp cloth back over his cock. His hips jerked when it made contact, the cool breeze through the window exaggerating the sensation. “How’re you feeling, baby?” you say. “Frustrated, ma’am,” Joel grunts. You smile. “Thank you for being honest. Do you need a break, or do you want a little more?” “More, please,” he says immediately, cheeks flushed. You don’t respond, running your hand across his stomach while you let him squirm from the chill. Not after long, you move it and take him back in your mouth. He gasps and moans, muscles tightening and straining against the ropes. When you shift to warm his balls with your tongue, he whimpers. You take that as a sign to pull back and replace the cold cloth. “No,” he says, desperate and breathy. He squeezes his eyes tight against the prickling of tears. “Please.”

soft!Jackson!Joel

Joel grimaces. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll just have to figure something temporary out.” You stop and put your hands on your hips. “We? What is this we business?” “What’re you gonna do, keep wandering through the woods on your own? I’ll help you.” “Why would you want to do that?” You’re on alert again. “Didn’t you say you had to get back to your brother?” “He’s not goin’ any place. He knows I can handle myself out here. Why, you got somewhere else to go?” His eyebrow raises. It’s really infuriating. He fucking knows you don’t. “Oh, you know. So many places to go, things to do.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.” “Well, I haven’t even started my taxes this year.” You fix him with a look. Fuckin’ try me, old man. But Joel just laughs. “You’re right. Finding somewhere safe from Infected is way less important than taxes. My bad.” “It is. It is your bad, Joel. I could get arrested for tax evasion.” “Right,” he shakes his head. “You’re more afraid of the IRS.” “Yeah, we are talkin’ about the American government here. You think the fuckin’ apocalypse is gonna stop them from getting their money?” Never mind that the world ended twenty-two years ago. You know he’s letting you play up the bit because he thinks you’ll let your guard down. You’re hoping it works in reverse. “Alright, well, let’s find you somewhere safe to do your taxes.” “Agreed. You’ll go back to your brother and I’ll find the nearest H&R Block.”

"the art of decay"

(a working title for the sequel to "the art of breaking"; don't hold me to it lol)

“You get wet from that beating earlier?” he asks. You nod, even though he’s already reaching down between your legs and shoving his fingers in your cunt. He brings back his shiny hand and strokes his cock. “Look at me, baby,” he says, shifting onto his knees so when you open your eyes, you’re faced with his fist pumping away at the red, angry head. “Coulda been you. Shoulda been, but bad girls don’t get what they want.” You whimper. It really does hurt your feelings, but you know you have nothing to say for yourself. “Open. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and get some fresh.” You obey immediately, squeezing your eyes back shut as soon as he starts to cum. A little bit lands in your mouth, which you hold open.

step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on

no pressure tags: @kewwrites @tightjeansjavi @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @covetyou @toxicanonymity @mountainsandmayhem @alwaysmicado @ozarkthedog

#wip wednesday #wip game #toni's wips

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ravengrey2103 · 8 months

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“Please Don’t Leave”

Derek opens the door to the sound of screaming children. Now, I know how that sounds but, and hear me out, as far as Derek can tell, blood and death are not part of the equation. See? Significantly less alarming than it sounds. Now that that's out of the way, Derek can actually take in the situation. Stiles is standing in the middle of the room, and he is surrounded by screaming children.

"AH! See, I can scream too! How do you like it, you little shits?!?" Stiles, in a blatant act of maturity, is screaming right back. He looks to be on the brink of hysteria, his red face and messy hair highlighting the crazed look in his whiskey-colored eyes. After Stiles' outburst, one of the toddlers bursts into tears. "Oh great! We're crying now?! So, this is all my fault, huh? Typical. You should be more grateful, you know. Right now I'm the only thing standing between you and death by pedophile!" The rest of the children begin to cry, sending Stiles over the edge. "Okay! You know what? I'm done! I quit! It's every man for themselves. Good luck, bitches. I'll see your asses in hell." Stiles turns on his heels, ready to walk out of the house, leaving it at the mercy of six crying toddlers. However, he is stopped in his tracks when he sees Derek standing in the doorway.

"Having fun?" Derek raises an eyebrow, quirking his lips into a smirk. "Just so you're aware, leaving would count as child endangerment. You know, a crime punishable by imprisonment?"

Stiles levels Derek with a withering glare, his hands are fisted at his sides and his mouth is curled into a snarl. "So?! I could care less! These little monsters have been acting like- like terrorists all day. I mean, do you see this, Derek?! How in the actual hell do I deal with this? Huh? Tell me, Derek, tell me ho-"

Derek surges forward, capturing Stiles' forearms in his firm hands. "Stiles!" Derek watches as Stiles snaps his mouth shut. "Breathe." Derek takes an exaggerated breath in, prompting Stiles to follow. They stand there for a few minutes, Derek guiding Stiles' breath. There are still children screaming in the background, but it doesn't matter. Right now, Derek is solely focused on helping Stiles, his friend, his mate, even if Stiles isn't aware of that last fact just yet.

Once Derek has deemed Stiles’ breathing acceptable, he lets go of him, taking a step back and surveying the scene once more. There are three small children in the room, two boys and one girl. Derek doesn’t recognize any of them. “Stiles.” Derek tries, careful not to upset him again.

“Yes, Sourwolf?” Stiles replies innocently, his wide doe-eyes staring up at the wolf.

“Whose kids are these?”

“Well, I didn’t steal them if that’s what you’re getting at.” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes.

“Okay, that’s a step in the right direction. But you still have three crying toddlers in the middle of your living room, which means three sets of angry parents to deal with if you can’t calm them down and make them like you.”

"I know, fuck, I know." Stiles fists his hands in his disheveled hair. "I'm just, I don't know, I guess I'm just not good at this. Dealing with small children is more of your specialty, not mine. They've been here for a little over two hours and all I've managed to do is make them cry." Stiles runs his hand down his face, dropping it heavily at his side and contorting his face into a look of defeat.

Derek closes the space between him and Stiles in two steps, taking the teen's forearms in his hands once more. "Look, you're not bad with kids. It just takes practice." Derek locks eyes with Stiles, looking for any indication of his understanding of what Derek has just said. Stiles nods, breaking eye contact and looking down at his sock-clad feet.

There is a brief silence before Derek hears Stiles' whispered voice. "I know; Just... Please don't leave."

And just like that, Derek's heart melts. He gives Stiles an affectionate smile and pulls him into a hug. "I won't leave. Not now, not ever. I promise."

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Links to AO3 and FanFiction.net in bio

#teen wolf #sterek #derek x stiles #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fanfic #fanfiction writer #humour

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slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year

Text

Clean Again

Chapter 5: THE LONG LIST read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras!

Corey comes to fix Reader's sewing machine.

general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, eventual smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter - alcohol consumption, stalking

4,237 words

@rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke dm me or reply to this post to be added to the list💕

You stand in the living room, slowly rotating in a circle. Evaluating. Your eye lands on a candle and you lunge forward to light it. Then you step back and think. Too romantic. You blow it out. Another thought occurs to you and you run to the bathroom. You tear down the hand towel on the bar over the counter and stuff a new one into it. You tidy the bunched up fabric, but not too much. The kitchen! You sprint to the sink and dump out the mesh trap you keep in the drain. You dash back to the bathroom and apply a spritz of perfume down the inside of your shirt.

Corey’s coming over tonight.

Yesterday Veronica asked you to meet up for coffee before work. You arrived at the cafe across from the record store and found her at a little table on the patio. Before you could even pull a chair out to sit down, she was demanding information. All you had texted her on Monday night was a message mimicking hers.

“Oh my god, spill!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“He’s gonna fix my sewing machine.” You said with a laugh.

“What does that mean?” Veronica gave you an exaggerated scandalized look.

“My literal sewing machine. It’s been jammed for weeks. I can’t figure it out. But he’s a mechanic or something? I’m not really sure, but he knows machine things and he’s coming over tomorrow to fix it.”

“That’s your first date?” She said, amused.

“Well, I’m also gonna make him dinner.”

“Oh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!” Veronica slapped your hand playfully and you both laughed. “What are you making him?”

“I don’t know yet! He said anything is fine except spaghetti. I wanna pick something kinda simple cause I know I’m gonna be super nervous. I gotta look at what I have in the house.”

“So how did the conversation go? How did you wind up asking him to fix your sewing machine?”

“The first time I saw him was in the like, technical hobby aisle. I was getting books about sewing machine maintenance because I thought I could figure it out on my own. I haven't gotten anywhere 'cause I keep getting scared I'm just gonna irreparably fuck the machine if I do it on my own. I saw him on that aisle again and I just said ‘Do you know anything about sewing machines?’” She didn't need to know you'd chased after him, even if you kind of felt like he'd wanted you to. You know she would not approve.

“Your opening line was ‘Do you know anything about sewing machines?’” She asked, incredulous. You nodded your head. “I cannot believe that worked.”

“Me neither,” you admitted.

“He’s a mechanic or something? That’s sexy.”

“Yeah,” you squeaked, covering your face.

“Mr. Library, the sexy mechanic. You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Of course!” You reassured her. “Actually, I was planning to text you like, right before he gets there and after he leaves, like, for safety.”

“You fucking better, or I will come over there, guns blazing,” Veronica said. “What’s his name?”

“Corey.”

“Corey,” Veronica purred. The two of you burst into giggles like you used to in the back of class in high school.

You stand in front of the mirror on your dresser now, putting earrings in and taking them out. You want to look put together, like you tried, like you care. You also don’t want to go overboard. He’s just going to be fixing your sewing machine. But it’s more than just fixing your sewing machine. You haven’t been on any dates since you broke things off with Hurley. You’re already so infatuated with Corey it scares you. You just want things to go well. You’re not sure you can handle it if they don’t.

You go back out into the rest of the apartment, making sure it’s clean in the right way. Tidy without being sterile or stuffy. You pull the blanket down off the back of the couch, then toss it back up, so it doesn’t look so manicured. You flip through your records, looking for something to play, or at least to put on your little easel so it looked like you had been listening to it. You don’t know what kind of music he likes, so it seems fruitless.

It doesn’t matter now anyway. You can hear someone walking up the gravel path. He’s here. You text Veronica, hitting send just as there’s a knock on the door.

You open the door and you’re instantly taken aback by his beauty, the same way you were the first time you saw him. He looks great. He’s dressed in the simple way it seems like he always is, but it suits him so well, and you’ve never seen him in a sweater before. The way it hangs off his broad, round shoulders entices you to wonder about his body, so you look up at his face instead. His eyes, surrounded by halos of lashes, his pillowy lips. You feel your chest flushing.

“Come in, make yourself at home. You can take your shoes off if you want, or whatever you’re comfortable with,” you say, stepping behind the door to let him in.

“Oh, thanks,” he says. His work boots clatter to the wooden floor. You close the door awkwardly behind him.

Your phone goes off extremely loudly. Both of you jump. You had the volume turned up so you could hear if he called or texted while you were preparing for him to come over, but now the sound is deafening.

“Sorry, it’s just my friend checking in. She’s nervous about you coming over, 'cause you could be a serial killer or something.” You try to make a face that indicates it’s a joke, but for a split second he looks at you with something cold and hard in his face, and you remember the fear you felt in the library the first time you made eye contact. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck, but his face is already soft again and you manage a smile.

“Sewing machine’s in here,” you say as you lead him to the dining room. "I don’t know if you need them but the books I got from the library are right next to it. Can I get you something to drink? I have water, tea, beer…?” Corey just shakes his head and sits down in front of the machine. “Okay, let me know if you need anything. I gotta put the water on for dinner.”

You scamper into the kitchen. You pull out all the pots and pans you’ll need, using the water running into the pot for the pasta to cover the deep breaths you’re taking to try to steady yourself. He said no spaghetti, but that other pasta was fine. But is it fine? Should you make something else? You double check that your phone is on vibrate before sending Veronica another text.

Then you go back into the dining room.

Corey has a screwdriver kit you didn’t notice him bring in, all different shapes and sizes including ones you've never seen before. He’s already got the machine split down the middle, a neat little pile of screws in the lid of his tool set. You watch him silently for a second. He has one of your reference books open to a diagram you’d tried several times to understand. He shows no signs of confusion. He doesn’t acknowledge that you’ve come back into the room, so you clear your throat quietly.

“Do you want company or do you need to be alone to focus?”

Corey waves you over. You grab a dining chair and place it closer to him before sitting down. He glances up at you briefly, then goes back to his work. You sit there with your hands clasped in your lap, watching him. At first you feel super awkward. You still kind of can’t believe this is happening. That you saw him more than once, that asking him to fix your sewing machine worked, that he’s here, in your dining room. But as you watch his skillful hands remove piece after piece, working with quiet determination, you settle down. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. When you hear the water start to boil, you resent having to go back in the kitchen instead of getting to watch him longer. Then you remember what Veronica said yesterday morning.

“Oh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!” That makes you smile. It is slutty, in its own way, doing something for him that other people might reserve for later in the relationship. Performing an intimate and domestic act for a stranger. You’ve never let a man know where you live without hanging out somewhere else first before, you’ve never had a man in this apartment at all. You’re breaking all your rules for him. It's scary, but the rules didn't protect you last time anyway. Might as well see what happens if you do things differently.

By the time you have a free moment away from the stove again, Corey is reassembling the machine. There’s a mound of dust and little fabric scraps on the table.

“Is this what was wrong with it?” You indicate the dust bunny, embarrassed.

“Yep,” Corey says simply.

“Damn, I thought I kept it pretty clean,” you say, trying to defend yourself even though Corey doesn’t seem to be judging.

“It’s the machine’s fault. You can’t clean where I pulled this from without opening the whole thing up. Bad design.” He shrugs.

“Oh. Thanks for fixing it.” You sweep the dust bunny into your hand and drop it into the trash can. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“It smells good,” he says quietly.

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

Riding here, the road rumbling under him, Corey tried to prepare himself for your questions. He knew you would want to try to get to know him. When the guys at work ask questions about his life, he gives half answers if they're persistent. If they seem like they would let it go, he just grunts. No one can find plot holes in the revised version of his life if he never shares it with anyone. But he knew that wouldn’t work with you. And if he was going to do this, whatever this was, he had to let you in, at least a little.

He was grateful you seemed happy to watch him work on the sewing machine in relative silence. Being able to do something with his hands helped him calm down. But now that diner is on the table, it’s time to talk, and his anxiety creeps up on him. He tries to push it down with the beer you brought him. Your cooking is surprisingly delicious. He regrets being too uncomfortable to really enjoy it. Hopefully next time, he catches himself thinking. If there is a next time.

“So you’re a car mechanic? Or are you like, an appliance mechanic? It wasn’t clear the other day.”

“Both,” he takes the beer bottle from his lips to say. “I work at a garage, and I repair old electronics and appliances to sell just for myself. You mend clothes?”

“Oh that’s my little side business. I also work at Plymouth Records, downtown. The mechanic thing is so cool. How did you get into that?”

It’s gonna be a long night, Corey thinks, wanting to do this to be close to you, but already feeling the wear of talking this much for the first time in so long.

“I was gonna go to college for engineering, but…” he trails off, scared to give you more information than that.

“But college.” You finish the sentence, making a face. “I dropped out too.”

“What were you studying before you dropped out?” He asks. He feels so relieved to hear you didn’t finish college either. He hopes the circumstances of your departure were much less traumatic than his, but it feels good to have a thing like that in common. It’s been so long since he felt like he had anything in common with anyone.

You laugh ruefully and it surprises him to hear the edge in your voice. “I had so many majors. I wasn’t in college because I had something I wanted to study. I was in college because it’s where I was ‘supposed to’ be.”

Corey wants to say something meaningful to that. He can’t imagine not wanting to go to college. He’d hung all his hopes on it before the thing with Jeremy. It was his ticket out. But he understands suffocating under other people’s expectations. Doing things, not because you want to, but to avoid the consequences if you don’t. He’s done that his whole life, with the exception of one glorious and horrific week. He couldn’t possibly get into it, so he settles from solemn nod.

“Where are you from?” You ask.

“Illinois,” Corey says, then immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want to lie, but he could be less specific.

“Oh yeah? I could tell you weren’t no southern boy,” you say, exaggerating your subtle accent. “Where at in Illinois?”

“Not a town you’ve heard of.” He hopes against hope that that’s the truth. His manslaughter trial didn’t make huge waves, but it had definitely made the rounds on social media nationally, and there was the podcast that nurse had mentioned. Michael Myers’ massacres, and his own, were probably much bigger headlines. Front page maybe even. He had killed nine people that week. He had no way to even estimate how many Michael had done beyond the two he’d been there for. That had to make the front page nationally. Or trend on Twitter, or something. But he couldn’t be sure. He’d avoided the news studiously since he left.

“What brought you here?”

That, Corey can answer truthfully. Vaguely, but truthfully. “It was hell living there. I couldn’t wait to get out,” he says. “What about you?”

“I’m from here,” you say. “I was gone for a few years, but I wound up crawling back.”

The conversation lulls. Corey is thankful that you allow it to. Mixed feelings roil inside him. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have accepted dinner if he was going to help you, and he shouldn’t have helped you. His cover will be blown, he’ll go to prison. He’ll be sentenced to death, but he won’t ever die. He’ll just wither immortally in a cell, watching all the other killers be walked to their waiting KFC.

And yet, it’s so nice to talk to someone. To put on a front and pretend to be normal. To get to know a pretty girl. He lies to himself every day that it doesn’t hurt. That he likes being alone. That even with his mother breathing down his neck his whole childhood, he was always really alone, and his complete isolation is just the logical conclusion of things. The way he was born to live.

Of course none of that is true. He remembers the way he felt about the Allens before the accident with Jeremy. How he’d hoped someday he could experience a love like the one they had, before he destroyed it.

Then there’s you. Rubbing your finger around the rim of your glass in mock-absentmindedness. Pretending not to look at him, but studying him intently. You texted your friend just in case the man you invited into your home was a murderer. He is. But you’re safe with him, at least right now. He thinks about the way you caught him in the library. And again he feels aroused at the idea that you’re a hunter too. He wonders if you could survive an encounter with Michael, if you have the fight in you like Laurie did. He finishes his beer.

“You’re a good cook,” he says, breaking the silence.

You give him The Smile . “Thank you! I was worried it was too similar to spaghetti.”

“I might actually eat your spaghetti.”

“You should be so lucky,” you reply, laughing. You’re flirting. He’s flirting, and you’re flirting back. He almost can’t believe it.

The rest of the evening is easier for Corey. He relaxes just a little. When it’s time for him to go, you walk outside with him. You stand out there in your sock feet with no jacket even though it’s a chilly night. Your eyes light up when you see his motorcycle.

“Is this what you drive all the time?” You ask.

“Yeah. Do you like motorcycles?”

“Uh, I think so? I’ve never ridden one.” You step closer to it.

Corey almost offers to give you a ride, but he hesitates, thinking of Allyson. The only other person he’d ever ridden with. Will giving you a ride lock you into her fate?

“I might be scared to ride it, honestly. As lame as that is,” you say, letting him off the hook.

“It’s not lame. My dad died in a motorcycle accident when I was little,” Corey says, surprising himself by sharing so easily.

“And you still ride this thing everywhere?” You raise your eyebrows in exaggerated disbelief.

“I don’t have the best sense of self-preservation,” he confesses.

A smirk curls your lips. Corey can see you realizing the shy, reserved boy you’d spent the evening with might have an edge to him. You have no idea how sharp that edge is.

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need fixed,” he says, straddling the bike and putting his helmet on.

“Do you want the long list or the short list?” You say sarcastically.

“The long list. Text it to me.” Corey’s bike roars to life. You laugh and shake your head. “I’m serious!” He shouts over the rumble of the engine.

You reach out and put your hand on the top of his helmet. Then you walk back to your door, turning around to wave at him before you go inside. He waves back, and watches you disappear into your apartment. When he can't see you anymore he rides away.

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

As you close the door, you let out a little excited sound. You can’t help but squeal. Things went so well! You send the all clear text to Veronica as you make your way to the kitchen, not even annoyed that you have to clean up. Corey had been so nice, scraping both plates and putting them in the sink. You’re touched by the small gesture of respect. You reach into the basin and, without really thinking about it, you pick his fork up off his plate and put it into your mouth. You stand there for a second before you catch yourself. You pull the fork from your mouth and laugh out loud at yourself as you load the dishwasher.

After that’s done you bring a glass of water into the bedroom and set it and your phone on your nightstand. You want to text Corey and tell him thank you for such a lovely evening, but you don’t want to come across as clingy. You tell yourself you’ll decide after you do your nighttime routine. The water barely spurts out of the faucet in your bathroom. You struggle to get your toothbrush clean under the unimpressive flow, and it takes forever for your cupped hands to fill with water to splash on your face.

When you come back into the bedroom, skin moisturized and hair braided, the decision of how soon to text Corey has been made for you.

A little heart appears over your last message. His transparent attempt to have reasons to come back over charms you. As if you wouldn’t just invite him because you like him. You smile as you tuck yourself into bed.

Your bedroom door is crooked and sticks closed, so Corey takes it down and glues a bunch of toothpicks into the screw holes, then when the glue is dry, he saws them flush before he hangs the door back up.

Some of your outlets are loose, the weight of the cord pulls the plug halfway out as soon as you let go. The two of you check every outlet in the whole apartment, plugging things in and watching them slip back out, putting stickers on the ones that suck. Next time he comes over he flips all the switches in your breaker box. The two of you crawl around in the dark as he replaces each stickered outlet, you holding a flashlight steady for him. It feels strangely intimate, and you both speak in whispers, leaning in to be heard.

The light bulb in your closet is burnt out and your high ceilings keep it out of reach, even on the step stool you keep around. Corey stacks your dining chairs under the bare bulb and climbs the precarious pile.

“Be careful,” you warn him from outside the closet. He scoffs and holds his hand out for the new light bulb.

“There’s a spider in here,” he says when the light comes on.

“Cool,” you say. “Is it poisonous?”

“Um… I’m not a spider expert. It’s just a regular spider, I think.”

“Just leave it,” you instruct.

“You don’t want me to kill it?” His muffled voice sounds surprised.

“It’s not hurting anything. If that’s where it wants to be, I’m not gonna stop it.” He gives you a confused look when he jumps down from the chair stack. “Are you judging me?” You ask.

“Never. I’m just… impressed.”

“I have a soft spot for maligned creatures,” you explain.

When you’re not with Corey, he’s always on your mind. You’ve started hearing motorcycles everywhere. Whenever you hear one rumbling along, you think of him, and say a quick prayer to no one for the rider’s safety.

He’s smart. He seems scared to make jokes, like he doesn’t think he’s funny, but there’s a dark edged humor to him that surprises you pleasantly every time. When you talk it feels like he really listens, like he’s taking notes.

Something very bad happened to him. You’ve noticed the scars on his hand and his throat, but the sense that he’s been through something awful comes equally from how extremely guarded he always seems. His reservation is the very thing that reduces yours. You’ve been emotionally unavailable for what feels like forever. You think of all the times you ended things after one or two stiff little dates. Corey’s hesitance makes him feel like someone safe.

And he’s just so goddamn pretty. Sometimes you have to look away because it feels like gazing at the sun.

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

It’s not a complete coincidence that you’ve started hearing motorcycles more often, not only an illusion of increased frequency.

Corey hadn’t let himself follow you home from the library the other day, but finding the same strength now isn’t always easy. In the evenings after work, on his days off, whenever he’s not busy and he’s not with you, he wonders where you are and what you’re doing. He makes himself work on a project, scrub a circuit board with rubbing alcohol and a q-tip. But inevitably he gets antsy.

His bike carves across town. He passes your apartment, he cuts through the parking lot behind the record store, he lurks across the street from your favorite mom and pop grocery. He’s been going to the library more than ever before. Your habit of texting while walking irritates him, but he always softens a little when he feels his phone vibrate. He makes sure you get home safe on nights you stumble out of a dive bar and into a taxi with Veronica and Rose. A time or two he’s left you a little present, dropping a flower from a nearby tree onto your passenger seat through your barely open window. When he sees a meter maid writing you a ticket he runs over and stops her, putting all the coins in his pocket into the machine to buy you more time.

When he’s with you he’s still nervous, putting a lot of effort into every conversation, always desperate for you to give him The Smile . It still hurts, wrenching the air from his lungs. And it still feels like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day. He feels a foreign sensation in your presence: joy.

The guilt however, is familiar and well worn. The thoughts about Allyson, that he had failed to keep her safe, that he had walked away after promising he wouldn’t. It just gets a shiny new coat of paint. He should stay away from you. What if he implicates you, contaminates you. Is he putting you in legal danger by getting close to you? Or physical danger? And is he disrespecting Allyson’s memory? You’ve already gotten more time with him than she ever will. Is that good or bad? How can he keep you from ending up like her?

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #halloween ends #fan fic #mine #cc

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zoeykallus · 2 years

Text

Hunter – Dirty Little Thief 13 – In The Shadows

Warnings: Hurt/Angst

___________

The pain runs deep. For both of you. Hunter and you are suffering badly from the separation. The guys try to mend fences, but it's bumpy and not necessarily promising. But as you roam alone, something else opens up. Something from the shadows. Something sinister.

___________

What Happened Before:

Dirty Little Thief

Part 2 -Fairplay

Part 3- What We Do Not Admit

Part 4 - Provocative

Part 5 - Fighting And Loving

Part 6 - Scorching Hot

Part 7 - Keep It Together

Part 8 - Give Me More

Part 9 - Don’t You Dare

Part 10 - Hurt

Part 11 - Say You Won’t Miss Me

Part 12 - Still A Dirty Little Thief

Part 13 - In The Shadows

"Why didn't you bring her back with you?" asked Wrecker critically.

Hunter sighed wearily and said, "Because she cheated and lied to us. Y/N won't be traveling with us anymore."

Echo said quietly, "Aren't you exaggerating a bit? You two love each other, I wouldn't give that up so quickly if I were you. Let her make it up to you. Give her a second chance. We've all had our second chances."

Wrecker nodded emphatically.

"Well I don't want to leave without Y/N"

Crosshair growled, "I'm staying out of it".

"She was willing to get us in trouble to steal that artifact" Hunter said reluctantly.

Tech said matter-of-factly, "I'm very certain she didn't really want to get us into this situation"

Wrecker nodded again and said, "Exactly! Besides, as soon as she realized we were in trouble, she would have come to get us. She wouldn't have left us hanging."

Hunter didn't want to dwell on it and said, "Tech start the engine, get us off this planet."

Tech stopped where he was.

"You're really going to leave her here?" he asked uncertainly.

Hunter tiredly ran both hands over his face. He wasn't just angry, he was hurt, it felt like there was a merciless, metal clamp around his heart. He felt like shit, and he wanted everything but to discuss it.

Echo said quietly, "Maybe we'll stay a few more days. You take your time to think and maybe you can mend fences after all. And if not, that's a pity, but probably can't be changed. But if I were you, I wouldn't just jump to conclusions and burn all my bridges and run away. No matter what she may have done, her feelings for you are certainly not an act."

Hunter laughed softly, humorlessly.

"Echo, as always the voice of reason".

Tech showed something like a tentative smile and said, "I think the idea is perfectly reasonable"

Wrecker said, "I'm not leaving without Y/N, anyway."

He looked determined and defiant.

Hunter sighed softly, "Okay. We'll stay a few more days. But I don't want to be talked at by you guys all the time! Okay?! I need time to think and get some rest."

He put down his gear and curled up in his bunk, tired and mentally done, tuning out the rest of the world for now.

The tears were flowing for quite a while. You had never seen Hunter so dismissive. Somehow you were afraid of running after him. You wouldn't be able to bear another rejection now.

You looked in your pocket. There were still enough credits left to keep you afloat for a few days. But you had to figure something out if you wanted to leave the planet again, or make a life for yourself here.

That wretched, heavy pain in your chest just wouldn't let up, that strange pulling pressure just below your throat, the burning behind your nose bone and eyes. Even when you could pull yourself together enough to stop crying, you felt that nagging pressure.

What should you do now? Hunter told you not to follow him and that you were no longer welcome in Clone Force 99. What did the others think? Were they angry too? Did they agree to turn their backs on you? Probably not all of them. Wrecker was a gentle soul, you were sure he'd be willing to forgive you. Echo would want the dust to settle and probably hope for a reconciliation. You weren't sure about Tech and Crosshair.

Your hand went back into your pants pocket to the credits. Maybe liquid narcotic wasn't the right thing right now, but it was appealing.

You ordered a bottle of Spotchka to your room. You drank a few glasses until you were buzzed but not drunk. You surprised yourself, but you actually stopped drinking before that threshold was crossed. That was probably more sensible in many ways.

Sleep, however, was out of the question. You lay there staring at the ceiling, trying not to let your feelings overwhelm you again. What bothered you most was the breakup with Hunter. But you could still hear the echo of the Holochron's faint whispers. You would probably never find out what it was all about and why it felt like it was calling to you.

Since you couldn't sleep anyway, you got up and left the hotel, not without your blaster, of course. It was late at night, you didn't really know your way around here, and you didn't plan on getting into any trouble unarmed.

"She's going to be in trouble," Crosshair said calmly, as if making a very simple observation.

He was in the cockpit with Tech and Echo. Wrecker and Hunter had fallen asleep. Anyway, Wrecker was snoring and Hunter was trying to fall asleep.

"Knowing her, that's very likely, yes," Tech said.

Echo sighed, "We know which hotel she's at. Maybe we should keep an eye on her? From a distance at least, just in case."

Crosshair growled, "She can take care of herself."

Tech cocked an eyebrow at him and asked, "If you really think that, why did you even bring it up?"

Crosshair silently shrugged his shoulders and reluctantly looked to the side. He was worried, in his own way. But he would never put that into words.

Echo said, "He's not entirely wrong, she knows how to fight back, she's pretty smart, and she's survived without us for a long time, even as a kid. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't look out for her now."

Tech nodded and said, "I can take the first shift. I don't sleep much anyway"

Even as you left the hotel you had the feeling that you were being watched and followed. A part of you wished it was Hunter, but another felt that it was a completely different presence. In fact, you felt something dark, something powerful and sinister.

Again and again you looked around, but you couldn't see anyone. You thought about going back, for safety. But a voice next to you prevented you from putting the thought into action.

The voice was calm, deep, but strangely lulling. Like a call. Definitely male.

"Out alone this late?"

You glanced to the side. Between two houses, at the entrance to a narrow side alley, a figure stood in the shadows. You couldn't make out much. Only that it seemed to be humnaoid, taller than you.

For a moment you toyed with the idea of just walking on and ignoring the person. But something stopped you. Something about this person was different, special. You couldn't name it, but you could feel it. This dark force you had sensed seemed to emanate from him. You couldn't help but be intrigued.

"Why are you interested?" you asked quietly.

A soft laugh came from the stranger's throat. A sound that sent goosebumps down your spine and at the same time acted like a magnet.

"You are agitated. I can feel that clearly. You vibrate in the Force with all your emotions. But sadness won't get you anywhere. Anger, on the other hand, does."

You frown.

"Apart from the fact that it's really none of your business. Are you talking about using energy wisely?"

"In a way, that's right. But it's more than simple energy. It's why you can hear the holochrons speaking to you."

You sighed, "The Force? I'm not a Jedi."

Another laugh this time a little louder.

"No, of course you're not. But you are Force sensitive. You could learn to use it, more effectively and better than a Jedi"

This statement confused you.

"I thought when you have the Force you automatically become a Jedi"

"Oh no, no. Silly," the voice spoke softly and amused "There's more to it than that. I could teach you. I could show you how to use what's inside you. No one would dare to mess with you or contradict you anymore."

That sounded ominous, but strangely enticing, especially to someone who was on his own like you were now again.

"And you're going to teach me that?"

"Yes"

"Why?"

"Because there are always two, a master and a student. I am a master without a student, you are a student without a master"

Your heart beat faster and you didn't even really know why.

"Who are you anyway?"

Slowly, unhurriedly, with the confident movements of a predator, the stranger stepped out of the shadows and was finally illuminated by the sparse light of a street lamp. A Zabrak with fiery red skin and black tattoos. On his head pointed horns like a menacing crown. His body was wrapped in black clothing. But it was his eyes, orange, red and intense, that caught your gaze.

"They call me Maul"

@oneshot-one-kill

@moonstrider9904

@photogirl894

@chlorine-claws

@chxpsi

@nunanuggets

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@mybigfatspoonielife

@where-is-my-mind-tho

@andyoufollowyourheart

@amyroswell

@kaminocasey

@urfriendlyneighbornightfury

@charlesisdaddy

@clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi

@zaya-mo

@kaliel2310

@i-donot-want-it

@nekotaetae

@misogirl828

@tech-deck

@thebahdbitch

@ladykatakuri

@flyingkangaroo

@revan-posting

@ladyemxo

@graciexmarvel

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

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duckapus · 8 months

Text

(Follow-up from this) (now edited to get the right Program)

Worm grins wickedly as he feels the sensor flags he set up activate. It's time to properly begin Phase 1, "Garyboy, come with me. We've got a cat to catch."

The eggplant nods, standing up to follow him.

"Mira, I have a job for you as well."

She looks up from what she was doing, "Yeah, boss?"

"It's absolutely vital that you keep Antivirus distracted and away from my position until I signal you. After that, lure him here."

She smirks and starts stretching for a run, "Lead the old man around again? No problem."

As he leaves, he pauses for one last instruction, "and do make sure miss Rose doesn't distract you again. I'd prefer not to repeat my lesson from last time."

She winces and rubs her arm, which still has a dull ache from "last time." It's a good thing she wears a jacket so she won't have to look at it.

"Got it, boss."

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

Not that he'd admit it, but Overseer is a bit antsy after Blotch heads out today. It'll be fine, he tries telling himself as he checks his messages again, they travel like this all the time without any problems, so what are the odds that this is the day she runs into trouble, just because there's some unrest in a universe they didn't even go to.

Eventually, he manages to go back to work, and a little while later, right on time, he gets the message and lets the relief wash over him...only to be snatched away entirely and replaced with cold fear when he reads it.

???: You might want to come pick up your cat.

He trembles with fear and rage, before tearing open a portal and making a beeline for his friend's location. A few far-too-long-seconds later he lands in a residential Program server, one designed as a dark, rainy film noir city. Quicker than anyone who may be nearby can detect, he shifts his cloak into an equally obscuring hat and trenchcoat, darkening the shade of green so it could be mistaken for grey in the city's long shadows. Inconspicuous once more, he follows the signal to an alley. There, he finds his target, a virus of unknown make and origin, their bright orange body nearly blinding against the monochrome setting even while veiled by shadow.

"Ah, a prompt response. I'm impressed."

"Where is she?"

"And right to the point, too." The virus smirks, then uses his much larger (and strangely familiar) right claw to signal to someone.

His accomplice jumps down from the roof, revealed to be, of all things, a human-sized eggplant with a face in a strange green and red outfit. For some reason, his code is extremely similar to the outdated Hydra strain of viruses, which probably explains the reptilian eyes. Most unusual are the black plungers on either side of his head, one of which is attached to a thick cord that's coiled like a serpent around-

"Blotch!" Overseer makes to attack, but-

"I'd advise against that." As the orange virus says this, the eggplant tugs on Blotch's program bracelet using some form of hand-like telekinesis, similar to a Goomba or Bob-omb.

"Now, shall we get down to business?"

His eyes narrow, not that either of them can see it.

"Excellent. First, introductions. I am Worm-yes, that Worm, the tales of my death were slightly exaggerated-and my associate here is called Garyboy. Not the most imposing title, I'm aware."

Under any other circumstances he'd be ecstatic to have found an apparently-living legend like the Worm, but right now he'd just like to get to the point. "What do you want with us?"

Worm grins, "In the long run, Power. Absolute, all-encompassing Power. But, that's a ways off. For now..." he tosses out a small diamond-shaped object, which projects a glowing blue circle onto the ground between them, "I simply need you to step into the circle."

Based on the readings he's getting from what is clearly a containment program, once he goes in there he won't be getting out under his own power. He briefly glances over at his friend, processors whirring.

"And don't get any ideas. While I'm sure normally they'd be tough enough to withstand the few seconds it would take for you to beat us and get her to safety, they appear to be a little under the weather at the moment."

He curses mentally as he takes a second look and realizes Worm's right. Clearly, Garyboy's retained the potent venom of his previous Hydra form, because that level of malware infection would be a death sentence for even some weaker programs, let alone an NPC. Until the venom wears off, the moment that bracelet is off there won't even be a Blotch to save.

With one last cold glare, he steps into the containment program.

"Good choice," he says as he opens up a portal, "now, let me show you where you'll both be staying for a while..."

#smg4 #smg4 ocs #the legacy arc #learning from history au #worm #garyboy #mira #overseer #blotch #i figured that between how different worm looks and the fact that he's supposed to be dead overseer wouldn't recognize him right away #worm is an absolutely horrible person #and very good at what he does #even in his weakened state #garyboy won't be voiceless the whole time. i just haven't come up with a good personality for him yet #overseer finally gets to meet a major historical figure and he can't even enjoy it

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littlebosleepmusings · 1 year

Text

(gif credit: @steverobin)

In Memoriam // Hunted (Prologue)

warnings: none

The street's a liar

I'm gonna lure you into the dark

My cold desire

To hear the boom, boom, boom of your heart

The danger is I'm dangerous

And I might just tear you apart

Oh, ah, oh

I'm gonna catch ya

I'm gonna get ya, get ya

Oh, ah, oh I wanna taste the way that you bleed, oh

You're my kill of the night

an undisclosed amount of time from now, sometime in the possibly near and/or certain future…

Lizzie 1. Inter-dimensional Demonic being 0. Maybe all those springs doing cross-country weren’t completely pointless after all. One more turn of a corner, and she’s finally put some distance between them. With all this running down the halls of the high school, she just wishes she wore running shoes that weren’t as pinched at the toes.

Something that looks like a man, but isn’t a man is hot on her tail and they aren’t letting her get away so easily, without a fight.

Another mad dash around a corner, when she suddenly bumps into a heavy, solid figure. For a second, she thought she was screwed, but she’s relieved to find it’s just you.

…

“Oh hey Mrs M,” the teenage girl says, between winded breaths, as you hold onto one another for balance.

“Lizzie.” You’re out of breath yourself, having just taken care of this guy’s friend.

“Right behind me,” she blurts out, just as the humanoid, figure materializes and reveals it’s hideous, inhuman face. Before letting out one of the loudest, death rattling scream you’ve ever heard.

You quickly, push her aside so you can take care of it.

“Got it.”

Without wasting any time, you whip out your blade and drive it straight through them. Watching as they explode into a cloud of ghastly, black smoke.

Your favourite part about the hunt. Watching their physical form disintegrate when you send them back to Hell. Least favourite is probably the sulphur smell.

“Nice one, Mrs. M.” Lizzie lowers her arms from her face, as you realize she’s on the floor. She nearly gags from the smell.

“Come on,” you say offering her your hand, before pulling her up with ease.

“One more down. Only a thousand or so to go.”

You know she’s exaggerating, but you can’t help but grimace. “God, I hope not.” You’re growing tired of the constant threats on your life and the town as of late. At the same exact time, Hope and Josie appear around the corner of the school.

“All good, guys?” The way Hope still looks at you, even now. Like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Yeah,” you say, sheathing your weapon back in its holster. Smoothing a hand over her hair, you smile at the young girl.

Lizzie starts brushing off her clothes. “Being bait and unable to defend yourself is literally the worst thing. Outfit’s ruined,” she adds.

“At least you were cute bait.” Josie attempts to cheer up her sister.

“Thanks sis...But seriously? I mean we can siphon a demon, but our magic is useless against them. Who comes up with this crap? There should be someone downstairs we can talk to about this.”

Hope and Josie exchange amused glances.

“Alright ladies.” You begin directing them back toward where you all came.

“Let’s get back to the school before anyone notices you’re gone. I don’t want your dad laying into me again.”

Lizzie folds her arms. “Ugh, who cares? He complains about everything.”

“I follow his rules, out of respect for Caroline and the two of you. Plus, I made her a promise…”

“You didn’t follow his rules tonight,” Josie reminds you, with a devilish smirk.

“No, I didn’t,” you admit. “But it was an emergency. I’ll follow em, next time.” You pat Jos on the back in a teasing manner, as the four of you start walking toward the exit.

"Maybe text him at least, to let him know you aren’t dead," you add.

If you know Alaric as well as you think you do, you know he’s likely noticed something was up by now. Your eyes fall to Hope up ahead, chatting with the other two girls.

Call it a parent’s intuition.

#the originals fanfiction #the originals au #the original family #the originals #legacies cw #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader

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scoops-ahoy-fics · 2 years

Note

I hope you're still taking requests!

I wanted to possibly ask if you could write a fem!reader (but they/them is fine if you prefer) with Eddie. her parents are arguing and she gets really bad anxiety when people fight so she leaves and shows up at Eddie's doorstep shaking with fear n tears all over her face n he jus takes her to bed n cuddles her and comforts her n jus is so sweet with gentle kisses

sorry if it's too much detail lmao I personally deal with that anxiety all the time n havent seen anyone write it for eddie <3 hope you're well and drink water

let me fix it || eddie munson x reader oneshot

fighting and arguing aren't good for anxiety, but you know that your boyfriend is the cure. eddie knows exactly how to help <3

reader: gender neutral

characters: eddie munson

genre: light angst to major fluff

spoiler warning?: none

notes: AAAAAA THIS REQUEST IS ADORABLE <3 im a sucker for fluff like this and writing stuff like this makes my heart go ckdnxkksoszksk <333 thank you so much for the request! a lil shorter than i wanted it to be but i have a huge headache and brain functions go bye bye

Shouting. You could never get away from it. Even in the safety of your own room. Even buried deep in the corner of your closet, hands tightly pressed to your ears. Every inch of you body was shaking, anxiety rushing through every possible vein in your body. You can take this right now, you need to leave.

Carefully crawling out of your window, you could still hear the arguments from your parents. Each word was another pang in your heart as you tried to formulate thoughts. Where could you go? How far would you have to go to get away from this?

Only one person was on your mind. Eddie. Your boyfriend loved you more than anything, and you knew that he would help. Being with him seemed to melt all of your anxiety away, just with a single touch or word from his mouth. You needed him to fix this.

Thankfully his place wasn't that far of a walk, and you had it memorized. The tears clouding your vision wasn't helping, and the heavy breathing was definitely an inconvenience. You were already anxious, and now you were alone in the middle of the night and no body knew where you were?

You began to pick up the pace, running like the wind as tears cascaded down your cheeks as your thoughts got the best of you, and the worst of you. You raced towards Eddie's trailer frantically, eventually getting to the doorstep. You carefully knocked on the door, your hands shaking. You then rested them on your knees, panting.

Eddie opened the door, about to lean against the doorway before his eyes widened. “Hon, what are you doin' here so late? You should be in bed, wh-” he said as you looked up at him, seeing all the tears on your face. And that's when he leapt into action.

He gently took your face in his hands and wiped the tears, giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Can I carry you to my bedroom? You look like you're about to pass out baby, I don't need you dying on me,” he chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

After a shake-y nod from you, Eddie carefully picked you up bridal style and carried you to his bed. He laid you down, wiping the new tears that were forming and cascading down your soft cheeks. “Wanna tell me what's going on, or do you wanna cuddle? Let me do what's best for you and get you calmed down a little bit,” he said in a gentle tone, almost whispering into your ear as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

You looked into his eyes and sniffed softly. “Jus' arguing and stuff, got a l-little scared, j-just needed you ...” you mumbled softly as you shuffled closer. Yes, you were super hot from running, but you didn't care. You needed his arms around you.

Eddie knew what he had to do, carefully wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. “I've got you now, okay? And nothing's gonna hurt you while I'm here. Mhm, you better believe it,” he said, giving you an exaggerated kiss on the forehead.

A soft giggle left your lips as you looked up at him with a smile. “There's that beautiful smile I love so much, you want more kisses? It looks like you love 'em.”

“I do, I do! I love them,” you said happily, gently kissing his cheek. You were obviously in a better mood, although you weren't entirely calm. You were better than you were, though. And Eddie was over the moon.

Eddie let out a dramatic gasp as you kissed his cheek, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Well, I love yours too. We got so much in common! Maybe that's why we make such a good couple?” he joked softly, pressing a few more kisses over your face as he held you tight.

You nodded, gently nuzzling your head into his chest as you enjoyed his comfort. “I love you so much,” you said, muffled by the soft cloth of his shirt.

His hands carefully ran across your back, a gentle smile on his face as he realized that you were better. You were safe in his arms, both of you knew that. And he would protect you with everything he could. Eddie loved you, and you knew that for a fact. He would never let you forget that. “I love you too, honey.”

He continued to run gentle circles into your back as he heard soft snores escape your lips. He moved his hand to feel your forehead and arm temperature before deciding you had cooled down enough. Carefully pulling the soft blanket over the two of you, Eddie pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Get some rest, you deserve it. Goodnight, babydoll.”

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things

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thesoleilla · 2 years

Note

HELLO I'M HERE WITH ANOTHER REQUEST BC WHY NOT

atsushi x reader and like uhh reader is scared of spiders and there's a big spider in their room and like reader woke up with the spider in their face ! Omg!!! What will happen?? 1? 😨

Thank you for the request again you kind soul O-O

So uh here's your request ^^:

You were slowly waking up, coming to your senses, first sound, as you heard familiar noises coming from the apartment, as Atsushi was trying to make breakfast, even though the sounds coming out of the kitchen didn't make it seem like he was succeeding...

Then you started smelling, which was heavily influenced by whatever Atsushi was making, and that was not a good smell first thing in the morning, because you didn't want to deal with a fire while being in your pajamas. But it wasn't just that smell, there was also another one, a natural one, it seemed like it was the forest's smell... eh whatever, atsushi probably just bought a new plant! Right?

However, you were also starting to feel something on your face, it felt like small little hairs trying to tickle you over and over, without any signs of stopping. Huh what could that be? You were starting to grow really curious about it actually! So you took all of the courage you had in you and let your eyes be blinded by the light to face the thing that was, well on your face.

Which made you scream; a bit loudly:

"AAARGH EUAEUAH WHAT I ARG GNAAA GNAA GO AWAY"

okay so the thing on your face was not exactly something you wanted on your face.

It was a spider. And a really big one! Like coming-from-another-planet level of big! No,you weren't exaggerating because of your fear of spiders.Not at all. That'd a really dumb thing to do....heh.

Yea, you were a bit scared of spiders, just a bit though! Cause you only scream really loudly when you see one to show dominance! Yea! Exactly! You just wanted to assert dominance!

But Atsushi wasn't going to let you assert dominance on the spider apparently since he was already bursting in the room with a very worried look on his face. "Y/N Are you okay?! Is something threatening you do you... uh need help? What happened?!" He was already shouting at the top of his lungs just because you did the same some seconds ago! Did he not understand your way of asserting dominance?

The spider had run off from your face to the opposite side of the room (thankfully), so you just pointed at it with your shaking hand (which clearly showed dominance) and whispered as loud as you could "Spider. Big. Scary."

Atsushis expression instantly dropped to become a less worried one but definitely more compassionate, and you thought it was so sweet that you almost forgot about the spider. Only almost because it was still standing in the corner of the room menacingly and you were starting to think that maybe you weren't the one asserting dominance and that it was actually the spider all along! What a plot twist!

"Oh I'm soo sorry Y/N, I knew you were afraid of spiders but when I saw it running around the apartment I just couldn't let it go back to the outside world without taking care of it! So I built it a little house with food in one of the kitchen counters so that you wouldn't come across it... I don't know how it escaped.... I'm sorry I'll put it outside for you now..." He spoke up with a really, really disappointed look on his face. He seemed so hurt.... He looked like he was about to tear up, but he still wanted to help you. And that was such a touching sight that you were starting to feel really bad for him, and a bit for the spider even.

"But you know it really isn't dangerous I promise and I could make sure it never escapes again and-"

"It's fine atsushi... we can keep it if you want to! I trust you with it! And it'll help me fight my fear either way so it's good! Just... make sure I don't have to wake up to the feeling of its disgusting hairs on my face." You interrupted him giggling a bit in the end... seeing him like that had definetely calmed you down and you were starting to think cohabitating with the spider wouldn't be that bad after all! Especially considering how much the thought of it leaving hurt Atsushi... you didn't want him to be hurt by your irrational fear that was disappearing anyway!

He looked so happy after hearing your sentence that you just knew you had made the right choice, after all if all it costed for him to be happy like that was a little fright, you were okay with it.

"Thank you so much Y/N. I'll make sure it doesn't come near you ever again."

"It's okay, I'm safe as long as you're closer to me than the spider is!"

You both giggled at your phrase, before you pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank you so much for worrying about me, Atsushi."

The End Thank you for this request! Was very fun to write haha! ^^

#bsd #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x gender neutral reader #atsushi x reader #atsushi x y/n #atsushi x you #bsd comfort #bsd oneshot #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #request #requests open #requests are open #bsd request

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