#monday angst?

[alpydk]

Poor Lad (Rugan)

Just a quick (apparently fever dream idea I had at some point that I'm writing up. Hopefully will appease the Zhentarim inside me.)

***

It’s a warm day in Baldur’s Gate as Rugan stands in the small cemetery. The sounds of the circus nearby can be heard, the laughter of children, the cacophony of various instruments being played. He’s stood there for some time looking at the relatively new tombstone that juts out of the freshly dug earth. His leather armour has been replaced with a black cotton shirt and his once cleanly shaven face now sports the start of an emerging beard, a failing attempt at a disguise as he wanders the streets of the city.  

“Gods, I’ve been standing here ages trying to come up with the words. Ain’t I meant to have some big farewell lined up? You know, flowers or something? I’ll have a pint for you later if anything. Hopefully, that’ll do.” His words are casual, not the type for baring feelings or dragging out long goodbyes.

“Roah’s leading the guild now. Yeah, you remember that big hero that got us out of that cave? Turns out they weren’t all glowing halos and bullshit like we thought they were, ended up taking down Nine-Fingers and stuck her in charge. Bit of a surprise if you ask me, you know after they showed up and took care of Zarys and… well, you know what happened.” He looks away catching the glimpse of a small bird that flutters nearby. “I offered to meet up with them if they ever got to the city but I've not seen head nor hide of them since we got here. They’re probably off saving the world or something. A real shame as they owe us half the profit from selling that chest we had, though I’m not so sure it’s worth the gold now.” He swallows hard, trying to bury the guilt. Yeah, that pint’ll do nicely, maybe a bottle of whiskey to chase it down too…

He passes a quick gaze back over the stone, knowing the words he should be saying, the ones he’s been trying to avoid for too long. “You know Olly, I was a right prick that day. Should’ve just done the job, got in got out like always, kept my head down. But mate, it gets exhausting following the rules all the time. I wanted an out, a bit of peace, maybe a nice bird to rock home to. Instead, I fucked it up and got you killed.” 

He kicks a stone up with his boot, watching as it bounces along the grass past the grave. “You were an alright lad, proper head on your shoulders, could’ve gone far with the right person behind you. Shame you didn’t have that though.” He takes one last look at the stone, staring at the dates and doing a quick calculation of the age stated. “Fuck," he sighs. "I’m sorry, alright. I should’ve done better by you.”

He rolls his neck, loosening up the tension that’s set in before relaxing his shoulders and turning away. “I’ll see you at the tavern later, mate. Have a good one.”

[hg-aneh]

rip bozo

[crabsnpersimmons]

psst!

pspspspspspspspspspspspspspspsps

something is coming friday

>:)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The most evil celebratory kiss

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[kithtaehyung]

minted: part two (snippet) (m) | myg

snippet: minted: part two (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au series: masterlist | part one summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! enjoy this snippet since i missed the initial part two drop! note 2: this series is for @sailoryooons, @joonary, and @minttangerines! love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma, poor reader :(((, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee…, tension, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn est. drop date: september 16th, 2024 snippet word count: 1.5k est. total word count: 9k >:))

—

—

There’s something to be said about the human gut. 

Not because it’s the source of multiple health aspects, or the way it’s connected to the brain. 

But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.

Who is this person next to you? 

Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 

You don’t know if you released your hand or if Yoongi let it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.

How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.

Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 

To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”

No answer.

Alright.

“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”

All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”

As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 

Mm. Does he?

From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 

If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…

What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?

Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.

Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 

Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 

But that taxi drive…

Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 

Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 

All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 

How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.

That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”

A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.

But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 

One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…

Floor…

There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 

But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 

And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.

Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?

Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.

You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.

The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?

How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 

And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 

Perfect.

“What.” 

You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”

He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 

…Is that really his only response?

“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 

But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 

This is all too much. 

“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 

You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm, and the voice you hear courses through your ears, “The fuck are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 

…Oh.

That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. Nor man, for that matter.

But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 

No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him than you are by yourself right now. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with Yoongi, either. You don’t even know who he is anymore—maybe you never did.

So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.

Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 

Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 

And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 

Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 

Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 

No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 

You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 

Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.

Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a hotel employee, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 

However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 

Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 

You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 

And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions and words you can’t name.

Yeah.

You fucked up.

Fuck.

-

-

tbc. :))

-

are we ready for the drop?! | join the taglist!

a/n: this is just the beginning!! who knowwwws what's gonna happen during the rest of the 9k+ lsdkfjdskl thank you all so much for hanging in there for me as i navigate multiple hobbies and endeavors. it means a lot to see your words of encouragement! always appreciated, and i hope you look forward to the real drop hehehe. more links: masterlist

[steddieangstyaugust]

Event Schedule!

Music Monday 🎵

Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want – The Smiths

Terrible Things – Mayday Parade

Careless Whisper – George Micheal

The Night We Met – Lord Huron

Teary Tuesday 🥺

"Who did this?"

"Please, stay?"

"I didn't know where else to go."

"I thought we agreed it was over."

Wordy Wednesday ⌨️

Moonlight

Lake

Please

Tomorrow

Trope Thursday 🎭

Second Chance

Miscommunication

Childhood

Missing Scene

Future

Freaky Friday 🦇

Ghosts

Upside Down

Halloween

Skull Rock

Vampire

Speaking Saturday 🗣️

"The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

“Where were you?”

"Keep breathing, please."

"Go, see if I care."

"I'm not going to beg you to love me."

Sobbing Sunday 😭

Angst with a Happy Ending

Temporary Character Death

Right Person, Wrong Time

Soulmates

Can't believe we're less than a month until the beginning of this event! This is the first event I've ever run and I'm so excited!! Stay tuned for the event rules post for extra details! In the meantime, I hope the prompts get those writing worms flowing!

Rules & FAQ

Ao3 Collection

[willthespy]

you've already drawn trans nico (my beloved) but have you considered t4t solangelo???? happy pride!!!!!!!!!

super late but have a solangelo-t4t-realization-moment (nico stealing will’s spotlight)

im laughing so hard bc i knew there HAD to be a request for this in my inbox and I WAS RIGHT! i drew this blindly with that assumption

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 19 - Careless Whisper by George Michael

Eddie had been gone a week.

They'd never been apart this long. Eddie had asked Steve if he'd wanted to come but he couldn't, he had work and he knew Eddie would be busy on the trip anyway.

"I'll be back before you know it, baby."

Eddie and the band were in Chicago, recording what was hopefully going to be the proper demo of a possible real and released album. Steve was excited for them but it didn't stop him from missing his boyfriend.

He tried to keep busy, picking up extra shifts on top of his scheduled ones, reorganising their apartment, movie nights with Robin and dinner at the Henderson's. The apartment felt empty without Eddie in it though.

They moved there almost a year ago, happy to have their own space away from Steve's parents and giving Wayne back a bedroom. It was perfect, it was theirs.

Eddie had called a couple times but both times were late at night, both the boys tired from their long days. It helped to fall asleep hearing Eddie's voice, he missed his warmth in their bed.

He hoped Eddie was having fun, he sounded like he was, talking about the sights and the sounds and the people. He sounded happy. They'd talked about it when they were first looking for an apartment if they should move away from Hawkins. Steve wasn't ready yet, Eddie had understood.

He lay in the middle of their bed, Eddie's pillow cuddled close, George Michael crooned in the background. Would Eddie be happier in Chicago? Was he happier there already? Would he be happier without Steve? He hugged the pillow closer.

"Careless Whisper, Stevie? You must have really missed me."

Steve's head shot up to see Eddie smiling in their bedroom doorway. He jumped up and ran to him, hugging him close.

"You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow!"

"We finished earlier than expected, and I missed you baby, the boys are enjoying a night on the town but I needed you."

Steve's chest filled with warmth, "I missed you too, Eds.

Eddie fidgeted, "Let's lay down, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Steve tried not to let the words panic him, after all Eddie had just said how much he missed him so surely this wasn't a bad talk coming. He curled into Eddie's side in the bed? "What's up?" he said resting his chin on Eddie's chest looking up at him.

Eddie trailed a hand down Steve's back soothingly, "Our lease runs out at the end of next month, and if things go well in Chicago they'd want the band to move there."

Steve nodded as Eddie continued, "And I know last year you said you couldn't but it's been three years since Vecna and everyone's still ok. The kids will be graduating soon and leaving and Robin has been looking at places to work now that her degree is almost done." Steve smiled hearing that Eddie had already incorporated Robin and the kids into this plan.

"I'm ready."

Eddie looked at him surprised, "Really?"

"I wanna dance this dance with you forever, Eds."

Eddie kissed him, "You're such a dork, but I love you so much."

"I love you too."

[starmocha]

the day bleeds into nightfall Zayne/MC | 1242 words | AO3 She was coming home soon.

A/N: So, um, you know those text messages you get from the guys when you don’t sign in for 30 days or more? Yeah…this stemmed from that…oops.

She was coming home soon.

It had been over a month since she was assigned a mission in another town. Zayne always worried whenever she was taken far away from him, though he knew she was a strong, capable fighter able to hold her ground against any wanderers no matter how big or small.

He couldn't help it. It was in his nature to always worry about her, to fuss over her, nag her—love her.

To assuage his worries, he kept up the text message exchange, finding solace in sharing tidbits of his mundane life with her as he waited for her to return home.

She was coming home soon.

Zayne passed a poster, pausing to examine it before he snapped a photo on his phone.

He typed out a message:

They're holding a new Kitty Cards event next month. Didn't I promise you a rematch last time?

He attached the photo and hit sent. He took another glance at the poster, and resumed his walk home, already seeing her seething across from him when he would, without a doubt, win again.

She was coming home soon.

It seemed his schedule as of late had been packed with surgeries after surgeries. He hadn't been home much recently, choosing to sleep in his car or office for a little bit instead out of mere convenience. When he needed sustenance, the cafeteria food would suffice or he would stop by one of the eateries near the hospital. For some reason, lately he didn’t care too much for taste, finding no pleasure in the meals he ate. He simply needed food from a biological standpoint, desiring only the energy they would give him to carry on with his life.

Remember to eat and sleep on time, he sent the message at noon and then reclined the seat in his car for a few minutes of shut eyes before his next scheduled surgery.

She was coming home soon.

Zayne mindlessly scrolled through the suggestions of movies on the TV's streaming app, finding nothing particularly interesting. He passed the different movies displayed, not reading the titles or even registering the thumbnails, but eventually he finally settled on a random psychological thriller, though his attention continued to remain elsewhere.

As the opening credit started, Zayne looked down at his phone, already typing away a new message for her:

The movie you wanted to see should be released by the time you come home. I'll buy us tickets. Hurry back.

She was coming home soon.

It's going to rain next Thursday. Dress appropriately, and don't dilly-dally in wet clothes.

He stared at the sent message, and without thinking, sent another one as an afterthought:

I can't always stay by your side.

She was coming home soon.

One day, after a particularly long meeting with the hospital's esteemed medical staff, Zayne returned to his office and noticed the potted plant on his desk near the window.

He settled into his seat, grabbed his cup of water, and poured the remaining liquid into the pot. He looked at the growing plant fondly before snapping a single photo to attach to his message:

The daffodil we bought together is thriving. Hurry back so you don't miss its flower.

He leaned back in his chair, chuckling softly at the memory of her mistaking garlic bulbs for daffodils.

She was coming home soon.

He visited the bakery near the hospital, the very same one where they had run into one another during an afternoon rain shower.

As he stared at the assortments of delectable pastries in the glass display case, he found that they did not brighten his mood as usual. In the back of his mind, he could hear the different voices competing to be heard.

Zayne breathed in sharply, wanting the voices to be silenced, and ordered one mille-feuille, not noticing the workers' surprised expression, unused to seeing the sweet-toothed doctor order so little.

When he returned to his car, Zayne opened the cake box and scooped a single forkful into his mouth.

If I have something sweet, I'd be happy, even if it was a bad day.

He dropped the plastic fork and broke down in his car.

That evening, he sent her another text:

Have you eaten yet? There is a new hot pot restaurant that opened downtown. Hurry on back to me. I'll let you indulge to your heart's content.

She was coming home soon.

He heard the hushed whispers, caught the sympathetic glances from his peripheral vision.

Greyson told him it was okay if he needed to take time off. All of the doctors at the hospital were ready to cover all of his shifts for as long as he needed.

At first Zayne dismissed everyone, baffled by their unusual reactions. It was just another normal day. Patients were in and out of the hospital like clockwork. There was no time to waste with small talks like this.

It was just another normal day. Like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and the—

Zayne froze in the middle of the operation, his hands shaking as he heard the staff around him fall into a state of panic as the fifteen-year-old patient started experiencing Evol-related complications during the cardiac surgery. Normally level-headed, he found that he was unable to will his body and mind to act accordingly. He stood there, watching through blank eyes, this perfectly crafted world of his crumbling as the memories of the past three months stared him down in the surgery room in a cruel taunt.

She was coming home soon.

She was coming home soon.

She was coming home soon…

At first, he couldn't hear any of the yelling from the surgery staff. Everything and everyone sounded like they were underwater, just muffled voices competing to be heard. Even everyone's movements seemed sluggish, as if time had slowed down, prolonging this hellish moment.

When Greyson rushed in and yanked Zayne away from the surgery table, screaming in his face, he immediately snapped out of his daze, and moved quickly to stabilize the patient, barking out orders to the staff.

By the end of the grueling, nerve-wracking hour, the young patient pulled through to everyone’s relief. Within twenty minutes, Zayne put in his request for an extended leave and offered his sincerest apology to the patient's family for his carelessness.

As he quietly left Akso Hospital, he heard the hushed whispers again, seeing the sympathetic glances from his peripheral vision.

He wished he was deaf and blind.

For the first half hour, he drove aimlessly through Linkon City before he found himself leaving behind the neon lights and heading to the cliffside on the outskirt of town overlooking the city. On the horizon, the colorful lights of the city competed for dominance with the bright stars in the night sky.

Zayne pulled out his phone, his fingers were already typing out a message for her, recalling his earlier incompetence. Halfway through the message, his eyes landed on the past conversations. He shakily scrolled up, reading the familiar one-sided conversation with an increasingly fast heartrate.

His breath hitched when he finally found one message from her, dated three months earlier:

Zayne, when I come home, let's make up for lost time! My treat!

He dropped his phone and screamed.

Three days later, he placed a small bouquet of jasmine for her.

“I miss—I love you…”

She was not coming home.

[riptides-n-roses]

dirty secret - seth rollins (18+)

⛧ pair - seth rollins (architect era) x reader

⛧ warnings: unprotected p in v, biting, hickeys, trying not to get caught, cre@mpie, consensual sex, little hint of fluff, hate sex. (Honestly idk if this contains angst but i'll go ahead and add this as a warning)

⛧ he's an absolute cutie and i feel that he should have some smut written about him too; i will say right now that this is taken place around 2015 authority era. so imagine rollins in his architect character with the championship. :)

⛧ after seth rollins costed you a win for the championship, you've started to hate his guts and he hated yours too. but what if the two of you were hiding something...

⛧word count: 1.7K

Backstory:

You were one of the top babyfaces of WWE and heavily adored by the audience. The way you competed against female superstars always caught their attention. You were insanely talented with your move-sets and your finisher (which was a double arm grab curb stomp.) However, The Authority took notice of this, including the WWE world-heavyweight champion, Seth Rollins.

One night, you had a match against Nikki Bella for the Divas Championship. As soon as you were about to hit your iconic finisher, Rollins came out to the ring, leaving you confused and distracted, not realizing that Nikki was rolled under the ring, and her twin sister, Brie Bella, disguised as her. You shrugged and went back to your match. However, Brie quickly rolled you over for the cover.

1...

2...

3...

It was over. Nikki Bella is still the Divas Champion. After Nikki and Brie leave the ring to celebrate her victory, you sat in the ring with disbelief. But also, pure anger. You turned your attention to Rollins who was still watching you from the titantron, with a shit-eating grin on his face, proud that he prevented you from reaching a milestone you worked hard for. The audience roared with excitement as you quickly left the ring and made your way to Rollins, delivering a slap across the face. He was stunned as you left the arena.

Backstage, you were stopped by the Authority to ask you something.

“Y/N, we’ve been taking notice of you and your moves and we’ve got to say. You are talented.” Stephanie spoke, looking you up and down with a smile.

“Um…Thanks?” Your tone was full of confusion. “But, No Offense at all, why are you speaking to me about that?”

“Well Y/N…” Triple H chimed “You see, The Authority always does what’s best for business. And we’ve agreed that the newest member…should be you.”

Your eyes widened. You? A member of The Authority? You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You’re already a loveable superstar with the audience. Why change that now for absolute power?

“I…I don’t know. I’m already happy with where I am. The WWE Universe seems to agree too. I wouldn’t give that away with all due respect. Besides, I refuse to be in the same group as Seth Rollins who’s literally ruined my opportunity tonight to be a champion.” You wanted to puke mentioning that name.

“We understand your frustration.” Stephanie replied. “But, it wasn’t our decision for him to prevent that. That’s why we’re here to bring an offer.”

“And what would that be?”

“You. In The Authority. If you join us, you can have any opportunity you could ask for. We’ll even get you your deserved rematch for the Divas Championship with any qualifications that you desire. All it takes is for you to do what’s Best. For. Business.”

Stephanie’s words seemed to give you some interest, your thoughts hypnotized with visions of you under the faction. You raised your eyebrows with excitement but also anxiety. Were you willing to give away everything you achieved just because you’ve always dreamed to be champion? Were you going to fall trap to their words? Were you…going to turn heel?

Before you could speak, an angry Seth Rollins storms in to where you and the Authority were, demanding an answer from you.

“What the actual hell, Y/N?” he yelled. “Do you not understand who you’re dealing with? I’m Seth freakin’ Rollins!”

“AND?! You think I care?” you screamed back at him. “You cost me the match I’ve busted my ass for. And for what? That should’ve been ME with the championship! And I would’ve been champion right now if it wasn’t for you ruining it you son of a bitch!”

Your words echoed all through backstage, the audience cheering, chanting your name around the arena. The Authority were shocked with your recent change in behavior. You’ve never spoken like that before and it shocked many. You and Rollins began to stare each other down, both of you delivering cold stares to each other’s faces. You shook with absolute anger while staring him down. You hated him. He hated you. But the WWE Universe seemed to grab an interest with this heated moment between you two, hoping an intergender match would come to be to settle your new feud with the heavyweight champion.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

Present:

Another episode of Monday Night Raw had arrived. Tonight, you had a match with Paige to gain momentum to have your rematch with Nikki Bella for the Divas Championship. Seth Rollins, on the other hand, had a match with Randy Orton, after he betrayed him last week during a handicap match with Roman Reigns. The question was…where were you? And where was Seth Rollins? No one knew your whereabouts neither his. Anytime there was a text or call, neither of you answered. When Monday Night Raw started, Stephanie came out to make an address to the WWE Universe.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Monday Night Raw! Tonight, there’s going to be matches with superstars you all love and new opportunities to be brought to the table. But, there is a huge problem. Y/N and your WWE World-heavyweight champion, Seth Rollins- “the WWE Universe booed to his name, making Stephanie laugh a bit. “They’re not here! We’ve been trying to get in contact with the two superstars and nothing has been done now. However, that doesn’t mean any changes. The Authority is confident that Rollins and Y/N WILL be here tonight. We’ll do everything we can to have them perform. With that said, ENJOY THE SHOW!”

The WWE Universe, including the staff and locker rooms, were confused as to why you and Seth were missing. You never missed any day away from Raw before. So why tonight?

The truth was you and Rollins were at the arena. However, what no one knew was that you and Seth were in his locker room, leaving hot breathy kisses all over each other as you bounced on his hard cock.

“F-fuck Seth…” you moaned, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. Seth had a tight grip on your ass while the other hand was around your hip. His groans making you even wetter.

“Good girl. Take every inch of my cock like the slut you are.” He muttered, his grip on your ass getting tighter, white knuckles forming. He was enjoying how you took his length, his tip always hitting your spot with each thrust.

“Y-you know…The Authority’s not going to like this.” You whined, not wanting him to stop fucking you like this. His thrusts were deep and slow, making sure your walls will remember his shape.

“Oh, shut up. They’re not going to do anything. Besides, this will be our little dirty secret.” He replied, his face going up to one of your breasts, roughly sucking on some skin. You gasped from how he sunk his teeth into your flesh, leaving bite marks and hickeys all over your breasts – you were lucky to have ring gear that didn’t show your breasts or cleavage.

“Fuck, baby…” He groaned “Why haven’t we been doing this before?” His hands now grab your ass as he thrusts a little faster. You threw your head back, covering your screams with one hand so neither of you would get caught.

“You…You know I still hate your guts, right?” you giggled, making Rollins deliver a hard slap across your ass, earning a whine from your lips.

“I hate you too…but why do I love this so damn much?” He asked with breathy moans, “You’re still a little brat. Don’t forget that.”

“I could care less…fuck right there…You’re still an asshole”

“I know, sweetheart. Now be quiet and take this dick like a good little bitch.”

As much as you both hated to admit it, you both drove each other crazy, sexually and in a weird sort of way romantically too. But that would’ve been way too soon. Besides what would the WWE Universe think if they found out about your hidden relationship? Seth Rollins, a total heel who’s also a huge asshole. You, an adored babyface who deserves to be champion. You two could never let them find out. Not now and not anytime soon.

You lost your thought when you felt another slap on your ass from Seth, his thrusts getting sloppy. You knew he was going to cum. You hope he came inside of you, to remind you about your secret. Only he could fuck you this good and make you never want to stop things with him. You’d do crazy shit for him if you wanted to.

“Baby…I’m getting close. I’m going to cum in you.” He growled as his thrusts get faster, earning high pitched moans from your lips. He fucks you way too good.

“M-Me too…” You were shaking, desperately to cum your stomach tightening for release.

“I know baby…Remember we got to be quiet. We don’t want no one finding this out do we?”

You shut him up by pressing your lips against his – muffled moans as he came in your pussy, you following him, his arms holding your hips down tightly as he rode out his orgasm. His warm cum leaking out of you made you beg for more. You stayed on top of him, his cock still inside of your cunt as you looked into his eyes, he gave you that same cocky smile like he did that night.

“Fuck, baby…You drained me like that. I don’t know if I’ll have enough energy for my match tonight.” He laughed, leaving another slap on your ass cheek. You giggled as you wiggled your ass, your cunt throbbing from how sensitive you were.

“Same here…How are we supposed to tell everyone where we were?” You asked, your breaths were hoarse.

“We don’t. And this stays between us. Understood?”

“Whatever you say, asshat.”

You and Seth looked into each other’s eyes, with a stare down, heavy breathing coming from the both of you. As you laid your head in the crook of his neck, he played with some strands of your hair, admiring you.

“You know…I been meaning to ask you. Are you still mad at me for costing you a title match?” he mocked.

“Hmm…maybe.” You chuckled, surprised that he recognized that he was wrong for that.

“How about…I take you out for dinner and eat your cunt as an apology?” he offered “Besides, we need to get ready for our matches.”

“Hm…Sounds like a plan” You replied.

You raised your head and smiled at him before giving him another kiss

“Even though we’re supposed to hate each other, I actually like you.”

[ddejavvu]

for multiverse Monday, can I request rockstar!eddie and shy!reader? I love their dynamic. maybe just a fluffy night on tour?

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

You're spending another night on Eddie's tour bus. You're staring at the small patch of wall that's at your feet, a blackout curtain pulled by your side that makes it nearly impossible to see your boyfriend. You do, though, from the light of his glowing phone.

He snorts at a quip a character makes in the movie you're watching, but you're too distracted to hear it. He digs his knee into your side, turning to face you with questioning eyes, "Babe? What'sa matter, that joke killed. Not even a giggle?"

"I didn't hear," You admit, "What did he say?"

"He said 'you should tune in to this reality and squeeze your boyfriend's butt," Eddie turns to you, wriggling his ass behind him to offer it up to your grip, and you flatten your hand there with a soft laugh.

"So? What's up," Eddie kisses the puffy skin beneath your left eye, "Too tired for a movie?"

"Just thinking," You hum, and Eddie kisses the words off of your lips.

"'Bout what?"

"Your friends are out drinking," You remind him, as if he's forgotten you have the bus to yourself, "And we're here."

"If you want, we can catch 'em at the club," Eddie offers, propping himself up on his elbow in bed and subsequently slamming his head into the top bunk, "Ow! Actually, maybe I shouldn't drink with a concussion."

"Eddie," You sympathize, letting him bury his face into your shoulder as you stroke through his curls. You press a kiss to the crown of his head, healing his ailments with a sweet smooch.

"We can go if you want," He speaks, lips puckered from how his cheeks are squished. They leave sticky stains on your shoulder, "I just thought bars weren't really your scene."

"They're not," You admit, fingers tickled by Eddie's frizzy curls, "But I thought they were yours."

"I drink sometimes," He shrugs, pressing a damp kiss to your neck, "Clubs aren't as fun now, though. They're mostly just for finding hookups, and I don't need those anymore."

"But there's music," You reason, untangling a knot in his hair, "And lights, and dancing, and your friends."

"Mm, I can do all that from right here," Eddie finally pulls his face out of your shoulder to stare down at you, hovering above you, "'S called a dance party, babe. Held 'em all the time with Wayne when I was younger. He was damn good at the YMCA."

You snort at the mental image, huffing out a slow, soft sigh, "Are you sure you would rather stay in here?"

"Duh," He looks at you like you've asked him if he's absolutely certain the earth is round, "You're here."

"That's it?" You wonder, "That's all you care about?"

"Uh-huh," Eddie lays proudly against you once more, hair fanned over the pillow, "A dance party wouldn't hurt, though. Think you could handle Love Shack?"

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 05/08 // ‘Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want’ by The Smiths

wc: 2.2k // rating: M // cw: language, negative self talk // tags: YEARNING, post-s4 but vecna dies, eddie has some self-esteem issues, mild references to sexual content

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie isn’t sure when it started. When this… obsession took over his life. When he suddenly couldn’t think of anything but Steve Harrington.

It could have been when they started hanging out every day, the threat of otherworldly horrors gone and the Big Evil defeated. When they realised that while they don’t necessarily have much in common, they both care to learn about what the other likes.

It could have started before that, when Steve continually showed up to help him through his physical therapy, never wavering in his kindness despite how many times Eddie snapped in frustration or lashed out at him. Steve always took it in stride, but never patronised him. Or was it even before that? When Steve showed up everyday to his bedside in the hospital, at first appearing to just be chauffeuring Dustin, but then visiting on his own. Spending hours talking with him or letting the silence settle between them, filling the hours where Wayne couldn’t be there.

Shit, if Eddie really thought about it, it went further back than that too. Before Steve carried him out of hell and quite literally saved his life—though that alone was enough to make a guy swoon—and before the moment Eddie flirted with him in the RV (and really, what was he thinking with that?) and even before their little heart to heart in the aforementioned hell after the first bat attack.

No, if Eddie was honest with himself, it all went back to Steve’s surprise appearance in the boathouse, shoved up against the wall with a shard of glass pressed to his neck and fear in his eyes. Eddie remembers feeling Steve tremble as Eddie held tight to his jacket, watching as he swallowed, skin of his throat pressing against the glass. Eddie’s own hands shook around the broken bottle, from exertion and fear, and god help him he was not going down without a fight in that moment. Their all too literal colliding of worlds was not something he could have been prepared for, nevermind the fact that Eddie almost killed him. But it was that brief moment, so miniscule, right before Eddie let him go, that he realised Steve really wouldn’t hurt him. Despite being held up and almost having his throat slashed, Steve had dropped the oar.

It was the first hint he got that all those things Dustin had said about Steve were actually true. That all the ideas he’d previously had about Steve Harrington were undeniably false. And Eddie only continued to be proven wrong by the sheer magnitude of Steve’s kindness, his patience, his unending love for his friends. Which now, by some miracle, Eddie was a part of.

It had grown. Out of something that should have just been a trauma-bond that then dissolved once they were quote-unquote healed and realised they actually had nothing in common besides the shared experience of almost dying in an otherworldly dimension. It had grown into something much more than that, something that Eddie never really had before. He’d had friends before, sure, his little sheepies and his band mates, but nothing quite like this. It was both his fault and also not. When he arrived in middle school and was immediately bullied for daring to be a little bit different—despite the differences having more to do with his class status than anything he had truly picked at that time—the walls came up. People could get somewhat close to him, but ultimately Eddie decided just how much he would give to people, and arms length was always safest. They wouldn’t be able to hurt him at arms length.

And yet. Steve Harrington had somehow wormed himself past the walls, beyond the arms length barrier, and settled himself neatly within Eddie’s rib cage. Not only that, Steve brought along the rest of his little group, a family that knocked down Eddie’s walls and forged a space just for him. It went beyond the trauma bond. It had grown into something that almost felt like Steve cared about him. Actually, that wasn’t fair. Steve absolutely did care about Eddie. He’d shown it time and time again. Shown up and held tight and given his time and space and love, being the kind of best friend Eddie only dreamed of having.

And here he was, greedy. Desperately craving more. More of the connection, more of the love —platonic though it is—more of which he has already been given. Arguably he’s received far more than he ever thought he deserved (despite what his new friends might say). But Eddie can’t help it.

He wants. He craves.

He fucking aches for it.

It grips him in a chokehold, this desperation with which he begs to receive more. To have more. To be more. It wasn’t enough to have Steve’s friendship, Eddie wanted his whole heart. His whole soul, even. Every tiny speck of stardust that came together to create him, Eddie wanted it in his possession. Wanted it all to himself, to hoard like a dragon’s greatest treasure. To lock this man away and keep him safe and shower him with love and devotion every day for the rest of his life. He longed for it to the point of feeling more animal than man, a slave to his own desires. Helpless against his own hunger for a connection that would run bone deep between them, etched into his skull, woven into his blood. Eddie burned to fucking consume Steve Harrington and be consumed by him. To have their souls merge together in a supernova and, and, and…

And nothing. Because it would never happen. Not for Eddie, not the way that he wants it to. He reminds himself constantly that he should just be grateful to have the friendship, to cherish it for the special thing that it is. That guys like Steve Harrington didn’t want guys like Eddie Munson, at least not in that way. Not in the way Eddie wanted, because Eddie never got what he wanted.

Well, not never. But rarely. When he goes down this spiral, he struggles to remember times he has actually gotten what he wanted. In love, in romance? Never. Kisses—too fast, too hard, too scared—shared with boys who met him behind the bleachers and didn’t know what they wanted. Or rather, did know but wished they didn’t. Those that ended in the boys running away, or worse, threatening to hit him—to kill him—if Eddie dared to speak about what happened. Not that anyone would believe a jock would ever turn to Eddie The Freak Munson, even as an experiment. That’s all he ever was when he was younger, an experiment. It was all he thought he deserved, at least until he got a bit older and was able to venture out of Hawkins. Then came other stuff. Quick, filthy hookups in club bathrooms and dark alleyways in Indy. A stranger’s tongue in his mouth and their hands in each other’s pants and maybe their mouths on each other and the flash of a smile before leaving and he’d never see them again. It was fine. He got what he set out for in those moments, but nothing more. He never felt like he was owed more, never felt worthy of more, so why would anyone give him that? At least they didn’t end in threats of violence. At least he felt desired, somewhat. But, if given the chance, he’d trade all those experiences for one night of feeling like he was the prize, like he was the one worth fighting for, like someone wanted his heart.

And the craziest part was… sometimes he did feel that way. Sometimes Steve made him feel that way. Like Eddie was the most special person on the planet. Like no one else could draw his attention away. Like they were the only two people in the world. Like Steve could actually…

No. It wasn’t like that. Eddie had to remind himself endlessly. It wasn’t like that. This love wasn’t reserved just for Eddie, who watched Steve share it with all of them. When he picked up Dustin to take him wherever he wanted to go, despite the squabbling they shared. The way he and Robin seemed to read each other's minds, attached at the hip whenever possible. How he helped Max after she got out of the hospital, ready to drop everything at a second’s notice if she needed him. Spending afternoons training basketball with Lucas, giving him all of his tips and shining with pride at his skills.

Still… there was something. Something in the way Steve’s eyes lit up whenever Eddie arrived. Something in the way he was almost always too close, fingers brushing as beers were passed, arms and legs pressed against each other during movie nights, arms held tight when nightmares returned, and one glorious evening of warm cuddling and dreamless sleep after sharing a joint. Eddie lived in those moments, let them play on an endless loop in his mind, reading deep into each tiny interaction. Thinking about every smile sent his way and was it any different from the smiles anyone else got? God, he wanted to believe Steve had a special one just for him. One that was a little bit softer and sweeter and shyer.

The idea is nice, but it’s washed away by the cold reality of the fact that it would never happen. Even if, by some miracle, Steve was anything other than straight, why would he want Eddie? He could have anyone he wanted. And Eddie wouldn’t get what he wanted because that’s just how life was for him. Though he may beg and plead with invisible entities for it, though he might crave and ache to the point of feeling feral with it, though he might promise—swear on his life—to himself and anyone up there listening that he’d treat Steve so well if given the chance, Eddie knew it just wasn’t on the cards. The sooner he accepted that the better.

His resolve in place—forget about it, or at least bury it until it could be forgotten—Eddie makes his way up the driveway to the Harrington house. He wouldn’t think about it for the entirety of movie night. He absolutely would not.

“Hey, man!” Steve answers the door with a perfect smile and joy in his eyes. Eddie’s resolve wobbles. “Just in time.”

Eddie takes a moment to steel himself, firmly reminding himself of his goal, as he follows Steve into the house. And it lasts for all of two minutes before he’s pulled down onto the sofa, thigh pressed against Steve’s. Was there truly any reason for Eddie to be tortured this way? He tries to remember that Robin is on the other side of Steve, and that there’s limited room on the sofa but fucking hell… Their shoulders brush, the soft grazes through layers of fabric sending Eddie’s mind spinning, until Steve places his arm around behind Eddie on the sofa-back, not quite touching but close enough to feel the heat of his skin. And god, this is so much worse. The desire to lean in and cuddle him, just nestle right in and have Steve’s arm around him, drives him crazy. The idea that they could… that this could be normal for them, domestic even. It went beyond the physical, Eddie wanted to take care of him. To show him the love Steve had so willingly given to him, and give it back ten-fold, hundred-fold. To create a life with him. To be proud of him and show him off and love him endlessly. To go to the ends of the earth to grant Steve his every wish, if he could just have one chance, he was begging—

Get it together! Eddie’s internal voice hisses at him, and he tries to shove all his thoughts back down into a vault, feeling a bit like trying to get water back into a broken hydrant. He does his best, managing to get it back down to a simmer, rather than a rapid boil.

Steve shifts slightly, suddenly a bit closer. It all comes rushing back. The warmth where their thighs are touching becomes burning hot and all the aching, craving, yearning, wanting that Eddie tried to shove down and out of his mind is suddenly front and centre and focused on the way Steve laughs and those glorious moles dotting down his neck. He feels insane with longing, desperate to press his lips to those moles, as if that could ever convey the depth of his feelings for the man beside him. Overcome with the need to drag his fingers through that beautiful hair and maybe even pull on it a little, just to see what kind of noise Steve makes, Eddie hears the tiny voice in his mind telling him off for staring. He just can’t seem to drag his eyes away. Steve throws his head back with a laugh, exposing his throat, and Eddie might as well perish right then and there, distraught with how much he wants to bite it. To just sink his teeth into the skin and feel Steve’s pulse beneath with his tongue. To leave bites and bruises all over his body, everywhere Eddie thinks is beautiful…

Before he can summon enough shame to look away, Steve catches his eye, and just grins, eyes lit up with that same brightness he always seems to have when looking at him.

Eddie’s a fucking goner.

[beskarfrog]

he has too much of his father in him that's what i'm afraid of

[gay4rhearipleyblog]

I NEED THIS TEAM

ETHIER ONE WITH RHEA TO TAKE OUT LIV AND RAQUEL IS FINE

[steddieunderdogfics]

For the Monday challenge, one word title fics, I'd like to recommend "Chokechain" by GhostHost. It's hurt/comfort at its finest and features a BA!Wayne. What more could you want from a Steddie fic😜

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51164569

Chokechain by GhostHost

@sp0o0kylights

Rating: Teens and up

17,739 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator chose not to use

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Head Injury, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, everyones mad at Steve and the poor guy cant get through to them that its his parents not him, both steddie and pre steddie, Unreliable Narrator, BAMF Wayne

Summary:

Rumors of Steve’s pending engagement threaten to splinter the post-Vecna bliss with a harsh dose of reality: 1. Steve Harrington is nothing more than a bargaining chip to his parents. 2. His friends can't relate, or wose, don't understand. 3. The most unlikely of people show up in your corner.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with one word titles.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[bleue-flora]

i need ur opinion on angel cdream

I’ve literally had this for weeks and this is still all I got…