#we will see...pray for me LOLL

[the-doggy-diaries]

hello everyone i am moving back in with my parents after living away from them for nine months ... they are absolutely insane to me i have already had really shitty stuff happen and we have not even picked up my stuff from my house ... but at least i will be living rent free and i will be able to save up and try again

[prettiestofpisces]

can’t wait to see what happens next https://www.tumblr.com/prettiestofpisces/754910199527194624/breanna-stewart-x-reader

Breanna Stewart x Reader

part 2 to this

thank you all for the love..

it’s FINALLY here🫡

⋆⭒˚.⋆smut, dildo use, geno mention loll

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it took every ounce of you to leave breanna alone, to not call and plead for her to return.

you placed the cards in her hands.

whether she longed for your forgiveness or would rather leave your heart lonesome, all you asked for was closure.

to know if the one and only women you’ve shared your soul with felt the same sparks fly when near….

it’d been weeks, three to be exact since you last saw breanna. you didn’t know if that night was the last time you’d ever see or speak to her again, so it ate you alive how it all ended, her sad and sorry eyes lingering in your mind.

sure enough breanna had regrets of her own. seeing you however often to not at all filled her with sorrow.

she wasn’t herself, her smile faded, and negativity clouded her judgement.

lashing out ballistically on her teammates whenever she could, stomping wherever she went, she was taking her frustrations out on those who didn’t deserve it, much like you.

her friends, teammates and most importantly coaches saw the anguish in her eyes and geno took it upon himself to solve it.

sitting down in his office breanna huffed, sighed and rolled her eyes, geno sitting across from her.

“did i do something?” she says.

“well you curse out your teammates every practice so i’d say so…” very blatant in his approach, breanna looks around the room.

“…and i can’t run a team like that, the fighting has got to stop but i need to know why it started.” still unable to look geno in the eye, her leg starts to tap. thinking of what to say and where to begin, she takes a deep breath.

“this girl, she means a lot to me but i think i lost her…” her words start to tremble.

“…i guess i was scared to commit but now that she’s gone, i-it keeps me up at night, i’m miserable coach and i don’t want to be.” tears cascaded down from her eyes that were now locked on geno. she looked deep searching for an answer he could give.

his heart softened, rarely did he see his gentle giant in such despair. she would sometimes doubt herself or forget where she was but never succumbed.

��kid, there’s a simple solution, tell her how you feel!” he said it slow yet stern.

“tell her you need her and want to be with her, she’ll know you mean it! you can’t let silly little thoughts keep you from being happy, okay?”

“okay.” she whispers. wrinkling the skin of her cheeks, as she takes the back of her hand to wipe her tears.

“thanks you coach” she smiles.

in the locker room after cleaning herself up breanna sat infront of her bench highlighted “b. stewart” with the number thirty.

pulling out her phone she scrolled through her contacts, eventually landing on yours.

the first ring sounded and breanna prayed you picked up.

then the second, and her hopes plummeted.

when on the third she heard a soft voice say “hello?”

“oh- god tell me you’re in your room? i just want to talk!” breanna says.

“i am but seriously b i don’t think it’s a good time” you said in attempt to keep her away but still, she persisted.

“five minutes is all i ask, please?”

you knew you couldn’t stop her from making amends or at least hear out so in an instant she was at your doorstep.

when you heard knocking on your door, you of course knew it was breanna.

opening it she stood tall, with her hair a mess and eyes as red as roses.

“hey” she says breathlessly.

“hi” you say in return.

once again finding it hard to make eye contact she looks at her feet.

“b have you been crying?” you ask subtly.

“it uh- that doesn’t matter, i wanted to speak to you on where we stand.” she stuttered.

“i hated how things ended up you know?”

“right, so where do we stand?”

“i’m not exactly sure but i know that i’m sorry…”

“and i know i want to stand where you are, i want to be with you and for you.” although sounding so poetic, all you noticed was breanna on the verge of tears again.

you looked at her with empathy in your eyes. you knew she meant it but until she proved herself, there was nothing for you to do.

“to answer your question, yes, i’ve been crying. you make me emotional.” chuckling, she bit the inside of her cheek.

“c’mere” you say welcoming breanna into your arms. hugging you oh so tight until she speaks indistinctly in your shoulder.

“i missed you, so bad. it hurt me to not have you around.” a beat of silence taking over.

“yeah?” you said almost seductively in breanna’s ear.

the breath of your voice just barley tickled the hairs on her skin, yet it set flames off in breanna. pulling away from the hug, arms still entangled, she stares at your lips.

not wanting to move too fast she places her hands in the curve of your back while yours rest on the nape of her neck.

the only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing.

“we don’t have to-“ she says.

“i know.” being your reply.

playing with the dark curls left out of her ponytail you then guide her lips to yours.

slowly molding to one another you remember just what she tasted like, sweet mint.

next place you guide her is to the bedroom. your roommate nowhere to be found meaning you had the freedom of being as loud as you liked.

the golden fairy lights twinkling all over made breanna look sun-kissed, you wanted her more than ever before.

undressing and settling on your bed you notice breanna rummaging through your nightstand only to pull out a sparkly, lilac dildo.

“you use this plenty, don’t you?” face stoic.

“only when you’re not around” you tease.

breanna stripping to just her boxers, she makes way between your legs that are spread wide.

on her knee between your pussy she takes the dildo leveling it with your mouth. inserting it in slowly, it fits down your throat perfect.

now coated in spit, she shoves it in your cunt and your mouth falls open immediately.

in shock your pussy has been filled to the brim you close your legs.

“breanna!” you exclaim.

ignoring your outburst she aggressively plies your legs apart.

“no, you can take it! you’ve clearly been using it all this time..”

breanna takes hold of the dildo that’s deep inside you, and begins to pump it in and out. the more your moans fill the room the faster she goes.

“keep going bre, don’t fucking stop!”

to which she doesn’t. she fucks you till your eyes are rolling in the back of your head.

wishing she could feel your walls clenching around the lilac toy. instead she watches the creamy fluid spill out of you as you cum around the dildo.

snatching it out your hole breanna takes her tongue and collects every last drop but she doesn’t stop there either.

sucking and fucking your clit with her tongue, she spells her name in it.

“bre fuck me like you love me!” you scream undoubtedly knowing your neighbors hear every word.

taking a break from eating you out she tells you what you’ve been yearning to hear.

“god i do, i fucking love you so much”

attaching herself back to your clit she makes you cum for a second time, directly in her mouth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

we ended on a nasty note but did we like???

speaking of nasty, i’m going to step away from smut for 2 seconds but feel free to still send in whatever your heart desires.

i can’t help but think when writing smut “they just might read this” …LMAO anyways

love you all💋

bye<3

[captain-evil-bastard]

honestly i don't think mileven is endgame at all. like little to no chance. byler though is either gonna be open ended, hinted, or explicitly shown and i'm 100% sure of that, although i REALLY think the focus of s5 will be them mending their platonic relationship further. i think so there's less backlash they'll attempt to let general audiences see how they work as a pair EQUALLY unlike mileven, as well as showing that they work together on more levels than instantly getting into a relationship (ik they've been friends for years but the duffers have to make up for how mike was to will in a good chunk of s3-4).

overall i think the ACTUAL chances of the 'byler kiss' are pretty slim, but i'm not opposed to being proved wrong. we have to remember that this show has a shit ton of characters despite the focus on will this season and that they ALL need to have some loose ends tied up still as well (praying on that hopper and el duo and dustin angst arc loll)

i don't think many people will actually be upset by the implication of byler in the show aside from hardcore mileven shippers (nobody really had heavy backlash for will crushing on mike so...). i can tell you that most fans are ship neutral, if not against mileven because of their related breakups.

so overall? byler will be canon one way or another, but realistically it's not gonna be super-duper lovey dovey (considering mike is still theoretically deep in the closet). and honestly? that's still really satisfying for a mainstream show to have a significant, well built-up queer arc.

ALSO while i consider myself to be relatively objective and logical i could be wrong. argue with me! tag this when s5 rolls around and it's revealed that will is actually vecnas son and mike was a mass hallucination from stranger things fans!

[annievrse]

iced caramel macchiato

eren x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: you have a run-in with eren; a man you hate from the moment you see him. w/c: 1.8k c/w: eren is a dickhead but we love him for it ok we are all in agreeance a/n: was debating if i should rewrite this for eren & i did. enjoy!!

Service had been slow. So terribly slow that you were sure your head would roll off your neck from the number of times you'd looked at the clock on the wall behind you. The copper hands of the round object ticked obnoxiously, making you rub your temple firmly.

Closing your eyes, you lolled your head back to stare at the grainy ceiling, praying that the bell above the glass front door would chime. When that didn't happen (shocker), you moved your head back to stare blankly at the door before you ran your hands over the brown apron on your hips, the fabric harsh against your fingers. 

Antsy, you bent down to lean your head on your palm in a bored manner. You tilted your head as you watched the countless pedestrians walk past the coffee shop. Just one customer, please!

The light reflecting off the glass gave you a headache, but you refused to look away. In your state of utter boredom, anything would be exciting, even if that meant burning your corneas.

Your gaze had begun to blur when the glass door opened, and a man stalked in. He was mumbling low into his phone, telling someone named Connie that he didn’t know where Jean was. You silently cheered at the sight of a customer, pleased to be productive on the slow workday. 

The man had half of his hair pulled into a bun in the middle of his head and looked borderline intimidating with his cold stare as he scanned the shop.

You were slightly concerned at the sound of him not knowing where someone was, thinking he would simply move off to the side to finish his call before ordering, but he didn’t. He walked up to the counter, eyes focused on the menu behind your head.

You seethed slightly at the blatant disrespect of the man. How were you supposed to catch someone’s order in between a string of conversations they’re having with someone else about something completely different? You never understood how someone could be so rude. 

Nonetheless, the man stood there talking aimlessly before glancing down at you with an apathetic look. You furrowed your brows at him before your eyes flickered to the cash register. You picked at your nails before the man paused his phone call to order. But clearing his throat caught you off guard, and you lifted your eyes to meet the man’s hard stare. 

“Well, aren’t you going to ask me what I want?”

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline as you stuttered. “W-What?” 

The man huffed as he shifted his weight to his other foot and swapped his phone to his other ear simultaneously, his eyes wide with irritation. He waved his hand in front of your face as you stood in shock at his rudeness. The man rolled his eyes before speaking to the person on the phone again. You plucked a plastic cup from the stack and the Sharpie pen rolling on the counter, ready for his choice. However, you soon had a death grip on the cup as he continued to talk to the person on the line. 

“A cold caramel, whatever.”

You caught what he mumbled before he continued whispering into his phone, grumbling bitterly to yourself that that wasn’t a drink. But, not wanting to have to interact with him any longer, you asked for his name. 

“Eren.”

And with that, he dug into his pocket for a $5 note, threw it onto the counter, and stepped to the side, laughing into his device. You blinked in disbelief, holding the black Sharpie marker in your hand.

How can his demeanour shift so quickly?

Pulling yourself together, you scribbled quickly, ‘E-… Ethan’.

You cocked your head at the spelling but shrugged one shoulder, sliding it onto the metal bench beside you, and turning to grab the ingredients to make his sickly sweet drink. 

When you called ‘Ethan’, the man either wasn’t paying attention or didn’t care because he took his drink and left, not even glancing at you, who had said the wrong name. 

The next day’s rush was far more fast-paced. The chatter around the coffee shop made it nearly impossible to hear the customers' orders at the counter—but it was how you liked it. The more customers, the faster the day goes. And at this pace, you swore your shift was almost over. 

As you finished taking the order of a young girl, your mood instantly dimmed when said girl moved to the side. With his head down, Eren stood before you, typing on his phone and murmuring his order. You couldn’t hear him. You tilted your head to the side as you huffed. The plain disrespect, again. 

“Excuse me?” You said while leaning closer to him. 

He glanced at you before sighing.

“A caramel cold, no cream,” His irritated expression made you stare blankly at him. 

His bleak response earned a quick eyebrow raise from you, who struggled to understand his order but grabbed a cup anyway and scribbled ‘Egor’ on the side and a whole bunch of jargon on ‘caramel cold’. You assumed he meant the same drink as yesterday.

And as the same as yesterday, his hair was pulled back, leaving his forehead bare and the crease between his brows evident.

Why is he always so angry?  

Over the next few weeks, you continually and deliberately got Eren’s name wrong. You had become quite creative with ridiculous nicknames when he ordered his boring ‘cold caramel’ drink and thought he deserved it from how rude he was to you. As much as you disliked the man, you found fun in getting his name wrong. 

Edgar, Earl, Ren, and even Egg. At this point, you could yell ‘erection’, and he’d just accept it. 

You had the luck of not running into him anywhere outside of the coffee shop, saving you the embarrassment of confessing why exactly you got his name wrong.

But you couldn’t help it. You hated it when people were distracted whilst they ordered, along with asshole men who waved their hands in front of your face when you were simply waiting for them to finish their call to tell you their order. 

No matter how much you despised it, Eren never failed to walk into the shop without being on his phone. And he never once looked at you when he walked out with his drink, only sparing you a glance when ordering. You just didn’t understand this man! 

It was Friday, and it was raining. The dark clouds hung in the sky like a bad smell, and you couldn’t shake the feeling in your gut. It was 15 minutes to closing time, and Eren hadn’t walked in today. A weird disappointment washed over you as you gazed out the glass door. 

The bell chimed for the last time that day at 5:55 pm, and as you wrote down the abbreviations of a latte on the top of a white coffee lid, you were disappointed. It was subtle, but it was there. And you didn’t know why it sat at the bottom of your stomach for so long, but it wasn’t pleasant. 

But as you went to close the register, the bell at the door rang. Your head shot up from looking at the numbers on the buttons, and you were met with Eren — no phone in sight. As much as you looked forward to writing down your new nickname for him, you were caught off guard at the new development.

Eren looked you straight in the eye and smiled. You were shocked, nearly dropping the black Sharpie hanging from your fingertips when he leaned on the counter. The cup in your hands was close to falling on the floor when he nodded towards it. 

“Iced caramel macchiato. And get my name right this time.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up, scrunching your nose in embarrassment. “So you did notice.” 

The man hummed in confirmation before he reached over the register to snatch the cup from your grasp. “Of course I did, and I’m gonna show you how to spell it right.” 

You quickly bit back the urge to comment that you knew how to spell his fucking name but patiently waited for him to return it. 

He handed the cup back to you, holding it teasingly above your head before he dropped it onto the counter. You caught the cup before it rolled onto the floor, confused at the scribble of numbers on the cup instead of his name.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze and saw his mouth drawn into a large grin. Your features softened at the expression, and you gave him a soft, closed-lipped smile. You turned your head to look toward the menu behind you, the numbers next to the orders catching your attention.

“Are these all of the orders you want?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows while you looked back to the cup.

Oh. 

Eren bit back a giggle and shook his head at your expression. “It’s my number.”

As shocked as you were, you managed to keep your grip on the cup despite it nearly falling from your hand again. 

“W-Why?” You mumbled, body tingling at the thought of Eren even thinking about you that way. 

Eren sighed. “Only the people I’m dating can call me Ren.” 

And then he spun around and walked back towards the door. You were frozen as Eren threw a glance over his shoulder.

“This place closes in 5, right? I’ll wait outside while you finish, and we’ll get dinner together.” 

His statement lingered even after he left. You still held the plastic cup in your hand as you stared at the spot he was last in. Your heartbeat was all you could hear when you finally blinked. 

No… I can’t. He’s— 

You shifted your eyes to the cup and the haphazard writing, and your heart skipped. 

As soon as you stepped out of the shop, your apron in the bag that was on your shoulder, you spotted his figure leaning against the side of the bookshop next door—typing on his phone. You scoffed a laugh as you approached him. 

Eren lifted his head at the sound of someone nearing and smiled when he saw you. 

“Ready?” He asked, offering you his elbow. You rolled your eyes at his gesture, nodded and placed your hand on his bicep. 

No matter what happened in the past, you were willing to see where this went… with Egor- I mean Eren. 

[superblysubpar]

Happy Friday! Could I request prompt #22 with Steve and shy!reader?

Steve’s mouth trails down your neck, the scent of spearmint on his lips hits your senses as his breath warms your skin. He drags one finger through your folds, a slow and teasing circle on the edge of your clit before he dips lower again. 

“St-Stevie-please, I-” you whine, cut off by a quick kiss as your fingers tug on his collar. 

“Hey.”

Steve smiles against your jaw, fully clothed and eyes roaming over your naked body spread out on your comforter. It should be embarrassing, the way you’re on display for him, but it’s just hot. Your eyes glaze over as you watch his keep devouring you. 

His fingers slip too easily up and down your slit, coating your thighs in more slick as he hums. “She likes it when I take my time with her, huh?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.” Body squirming underneath him as your teeth dig into your bottom lip, nodding frantically - desperate for the burning in your stomach to keep building. You feel crazy, greedy for his fingers to finally give you what you want. 

But not yet - you don’t dare give up this teasing and what it’s doing to you. You need it to last.

“Honey, wake up…”

Your head lolls to the side, eyelids fluttering as you make another sound. Louder, and one that shoots little sparks across his brain, neurons firing and lighting up a very specific spot. 

Jesus fucking christ. 

He knows that sound. Steve Harrington has made other girls make that sound. 

You’re having a sex dream. 

“Steve.” Your hips shift and roll against the couch you’re draped across, his name leaves your lips clearer than the first time he only thought he heard it. Your forehead wrinkles and your lips form a soft pout. 

Steve’s mouth drops open, his grip on the paper sack of greasy take out and the strawberry shake he brought over as a surprise slipping. 

You’re not just having a sex dream. You’re having a sex dream about him. 

Steve’s tongue licks over his bottom lip and he takes a deep, calming breath through his nose, eyes roaming over your figure. Your little cotton sleep shorts and a ratty band tee he’s seen you in hundreds of times seem teasing, cruel, fucking downright sinful now. 

It’s not like looking at you this way is like, uncharted territory, he is a man with eyeballs and a dick who really likes that one top you wear. Sue him for maybe having your face creep into his thoughts a handful of times while he’s jerked himself off. It’s not that weird for your best friend to turn you on occasionally.

His head tilts as you sigh in your sleep, his cock straining in his jeans. 

Okay, maybe a little more than occasionally. 

He curses under his breath when your hips roll again, squeezing his eyes shut. 

What does he do? Keep watching you? No, Harrington, that is so pervy. Think with your brain and not your dick.

 Leave the food and run home and replay this moment in his head forever in the privacy of his bedroom? Yeah, that’s a better idea. 

“Steve?”

Your best friend’s eyes shoot open, a strawberry milkshake in his hand coating it in condensation and you avert your eyes, looking back up at his face quickly. You’re disgusting, thinking about his wet fingers in your dream - pull it together. 

“He-” he clears his throat and looks down, deepening his voice, “Hey. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Oh, um, that’s okay. You brought me food?” You sit up and pull your legs to your chest, suddenly aware that you definitely got more than a little aroused while sleeping. 

Steve sucks in his breath at the way your shorts reveal the start of the curve of your ass and looks up at the ceiling then the doorway, praying you can’t see his erection. “Uh, yeah. You said you had a bad day yesterday.”

“That’s really sweet, wanna eat with me? We can watch a movie or something?” Dropping your legs back down, you preoccupy yourself with finding the remote, body heating up as his weight makes the couch bounce when he sits next to you.

Right next to you. 

His thigh brushes the bare skin of yours, your shorts ride up slightly and Steve’s eyes track the fabric’s movement slowly, wishing he was wearing only his boxers so he could feel his skin against yours, stupid fucking jeans, why is he wearing-

“Steve?”

Your question derails his thoughts, and he turns his head, almost smacking his nose against yours. “Oh, shit, sorry, I’m…kind of close, huh?”

He doesn’t move away though, and you watch his adams apple bob, watch his eyes move slowly over your face until they meet yours. His voice comes out in a soft murmur, “I can…”

Maybe dream you is still occupying your brain, taken over, you’re not quite fully awake or something, because no way in hell would you normally have the confidence to do what you do next. 

Your lips brush his, parting over his top one in a short and over too fast kiss. You barely feel it, you want more. But you’re an idiot who just sort of kissed her best friend. 

Steve’s heart is thumping in his ears, he’s not sure he’s ever been more nervous in his entire life. He’s kissed loads of girls. He knows what he’s doing, he really does. But before his brain can sort out what’s happening, you’re already pulling away. 

“So-sorry,” you stutter, eyes going wide. 

He drops the food and shake on the coffee table, hand reaching towards your jaw, cold fingers cupping it as he pulls you back in. Steve’s mouth moves over yours patiently, like he’s tasting and memorizing. Softer than you expected, plush and warm, and so so so slow. His thumb brushes across your cheek, buzzes of electricity jolt through you, your stomach flips, your arms have goosebumps forming. 

Holy shit you’re kissing your best friend. 

Steve tries to relax, he wants to remember this, this isn’t like kissing other girls. He wants to take his time, but your lips fit with his like no one else's, his stomach is doing this thing that he can’t even explain and he almost busts in his jeans when you make a little gasp into his mouth when his tongue licks over your top lip. 

Holy fuck. 

Your fingers tug around his collar, soft cotton under the pads as you pull him even closer and Steve’s fingers curl around your chin, tugging down with his thumb so you open more for him. His other palm lands on your hip, and he actually can’t keep it still. He wants to map you out with his fingers and tongue, trace every curve and dip. His hand curls around your back, taking the hem of your shirt with a finger and now his skin touches yours. 

You pant against his mouth in an attempt for air but you can’t stay away, lips meeting again as your noses squish harder together. His tongue flicks against yours as his hand moves up your spine. Heated skin that reacts to his touch, your body actually shivers as his hand moves higher and his tongue works over yours a little messy and more than a little dirty.  

When Steve meets nothing the higher and higher he climbs on your skin his eyelids flutter and he gasps, “Are you, you’re not wearing-fuck.”

You laugh into his lips, and it’s like the sound pulls him back like a magnet. He hasn’t made out with someone like this since he was 16. Actually, he’s never made out with someone like this. He falls backwards on the couch, stretched out across it, taking you with him. Lips parting over yours as he squeezes at your sides, not daring to touch your boobs yet, sliding back down to your hips which you roll against him and he sees stars. 

When you breathe his name into his lips, gasping when the denim of his jeans hits you in just the right spot, you remember your dream and this isn’t it. This is real. This is your best friend.

“We, we should slow down,” you pull away, gasping for air. 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, tongue licking over swollen and tinted red lips as he nods. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

You hold yourself up, palms flat to the cushion on either side of his head, but your hips remain pressed to his, swearing you feel the bulge beneath you twitch. Both of your chests heave in attempts for deeper breaths and when he opens his eyes, your body heats up under his stare. 

Golden eyes taken over by his blown out pupils and you clear your throat, embarrassed you came onto him so aggressively after years of friendship. You try to ignore the ache in your stomach as he reaches up and tugs on your chin. Steve kisses you once, just a sweet and soft kiss, before his forehead knocks to yours and he wraps his arms around you in a hug with a groan. 

“Okay, I-I know we should slow down. We should talk about this.” He kisses your temple, your jaw, moving to your neck because he really, truly can’t keep his hands or lips off of you. Years of repressed feelings and what if’s bursting out of him. You hum an agreement and your hips roll again and he groans into your neck, his scruff scratching and tickling you as he gasps out, “But, um, I need to, fuck, promise you won’t laugh?”

Steve takes your silence as agreement and he speaks into the sweat kissed skin of your neck, inhaling your perfume he wants to fall inside of the bottle of and drown, squeezing his eyes closed, “I gotta go jerk off or something cause I think I’m gonna be in actual physical pain if I don’t.”

Your laughter shakes over his whole body and he has to ignore how the movement sends another wave of euphoria through him straight to his dick. He squeezes you, fingers digging into your ribs, making you laugh more as he accuses and whines, “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

You push yourself up again with your palms, eyes sparkling, “I did not! I said literally nothing.”

He narrows his eyes and yours soften as you kiss him again, sighing long and heavy before you pull away. You nod and clear your throat, “Okay, but really, if you need to…”

Steve’s tongue licks out over his lip again, eyes bouncing between yours as he rubs his palm up your spine. You watch his cheeks begin to twinge pink, and then his ears so you ask, “What?”

He clears his throat and looks at your lips instead of your eyes, still rubbing up and down your back. “Were you, uh, having a sex dream earlier? About me?”

You try to fold in on yourself, tucking your chin down, trying to curl and hide away forever. How does he know?

Two of his fingers tap on the bottom of your chin, lifting it, his voice soft, “Hey, come on, talk to me.”

Unable to form words, you only nod, peeking one eye open and his cheeks flush darker. Steve’s hands move from your back to your arms still propping you up, rubbing up and down them as his hips flex, still painfully hard. “Have you, um, thought about…this, that, a lot? Like you and me?”

“Yeah,” the word is quieter than a breath and if your face weren’t right in front of him he may not have heard it. 

He nods and rolls his hips against yours, fighting a smile when your eyes flutter again. You watch his eyes continue to travel over your face, dark pupils still at the forefront as his voice drops into something raspier, gruff, deep from his chest after his neck extends and he clears his throat, “Have you…have you thought about me while touching yourself?”

“Steve,” you’re not sure if it comes out more as a scolding, embarrassed word, or more a plea for him to keep talking like that. 

Your entire body is on fire as he swallows loud enough for you to hear, hand moving up your neck and cupping your jaw again. Both of your bodies slide against one another as each of your breathing picks up again. His lips part over yours, other hand curling around the back of your neck. He breaks the kiss though and speaks against them before returning their movement. 

“Will you touch yourself? Show me how you do it?”

He nips at your bottom lip when you gasp at the question. You never thought Steve would be talking to you like this, not like the dreams you’ve had, not like what you imagine when you do exactly what he’s asking you to. 

His nose skims over your jaw when you don’t move away, when you don’t say no. His stomach flipping as he speaks quietly, “I wanna take my time, but I literally am gonna explode and if you didn’t finish in your dream I was just thinking-”

“Yes.”

[kitybur]

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲 2

⌦ in which you and tommy have just hopped into your car and hit the road to meet up with two minecraft streamers. the feeling of mixed nerves grow as they navigate through the post-apocalyptic world, all in the hopes of making it to the safe spot.

— warnings: swearing, gn!reader, zombies, murder, guns/knifes, mature themes, mention of drugs

| quackity apocalypse au part 2! |

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

you had been on the road for longer than you could remember. you hadn’t realized how far away this safe spot would be, and we’re already dreading on the long, twisting roads. you hadn’t seen anybody else on the roads, maybe a few people walking with their things out, which you ignored.

it had been nearly reaching two hours, and your foot was starting to hurt from pressing on the gas for so long. it was a miracle you hadn’t ran out of gas yet, but tommy had been prepared, stuffing a singular gas jug in the back. you had to give him props, he was handling this situation better then you were. and he was just a kid.

your eyes shifted from the straight road to the passenger seat, where tommy laid with his head lolled back and soft snores escaping his opened mouth. you gently smiled, reaching in the back to grab an old green blanket you’d left in your car months ago, covering him up ever so slightly.

you moved your eyes back to the road as a left turn came up, avoiding the red light that had just appeared on the traffic light. as you continued driving, you could faintly hear the sound of sirens. looking in the rear view mirror, the outline of a cop car came into sight, the red and blue flashing lights navigating the cement in the dark.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled. were you seriously getting pulled over right now? you lightly pressed on the accelerator, hoping, praying the cop just turned on the lights to be able to see better. it was only when they started pounding on the horn you knew it was for you. you cursed under your breath as you slowly started to move off to the side of the road, and put the car in park.

you were in the middle of nowhere by this point. there were no houses and no stores to be seen in a 15 mile radius. you forced your eyes everywhere you could, before jumping at the sound of glass knocking. it was so hard that the sound alone had woken tommy up.

you rolled down the window half way and when the male cop gave you a look, you rolled it down the rest. “good evening, officer.” you nodded. “can we help you?” you spared a look to tommy from the corner of your eyes. he groaned and sat up fully. the blanket falling off his shoulders and landing on his lap.

the officer looked between you and tommy. “you ran a red light. did you know that?” you cleared your throat, uncomfortable with the way he was inspecting the vehicle with his eyes.

“i’m sorry, sir. we’re trying to get somewhere safe before anything happens. I didn’t think I’d be a big deal right now…” you explained, pausing and cringing at the silence.

“officer, i’m sure it was a mis—”

“shut up!” he yelled, startling both you and tommy. you glared at the officer for yelling in such tone to tommy. “there is nothing going on, are you guys on something?” he took a step closer to the car, leaning down into the window. “i’m going to need you guys to step out of the vehicle.”

“but sir!” tommy yelled, obviously annoyed. he just wanted to leave and meet up with his friends. to get him and you safe, he couldn’t do that if this bitch officer was in the way.

“sir, step out of the vehicle, now!” by now he was angry, his cheeks turning red as his tone was sharp and evil. you and tommy shared a quick look, debating in your head if you should step out or not. of course the logical answer would be to step out, it was the law you were dealing with. but you knew better. in a world where it was life or death, you chose life.

“no.” you quickly said, shaking your head. “we will not get out.” you swear you could see steam come from his ears, blood come from his eyes by how appalled and angry he became.

“excuse me? you’ll get out of this damn car if I have to make you!” he wiped a bead of sweat off his head before reaching for the handle. it seemed to be in slow motion the way you watched him get pushed to the ground, screams filling the car.

it was only when you came back to your senses did you look what had happened. someone — or something — had tackled the officer down, pinning him under their body weight and taking a bite out of his thick neck. you held back your own scream to not make attention to yourself or tommy.

“y/n, we need to go. now!” tommy says, breath wavering as he continued to watch the grey monster eat at a living being. you nodded, tearing your wide eyes away from the blood that had now splatted on the side of your car, and the lowering screams of the officer. the growling of the now identified zombie only intensified with its feast.

you put the car in drive glancing around you momentarily before speeding off. tommy pushed his elbow into the seat to look out the back window. he eyed the zombie, watching how it turned its bloodied face to watch the car take off. it stood up, tilting its head as if to challenge the car, and followed.

you let out a breath with a tight grip to the steering wheel. you enjoyed the breeze the open window gave you, feeling the cold air on your face as you drove through the deserted town. it had been silent between you and tommy for mere minutes before he spoke up; “that was fucking awesome.”

silence.

“what!?” you pushed on the breaks, not hearing him quite correctly. he screeched, hands reaching out to stop himself from flying through the windshield. “what about that was awesome to you?”

he dryly chuckled. “that was the first zombie i’d ever seen that wasn’t in minecraft!” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help your own smile to come out. the moment lasted longer than you’d expected it too, because the moment you went to drive away, something grabbed you through the window.

you let out a scream, looking at the zombie in the dead eyes as it latched it’s brittle but strong hands against your sweater. you screamed has it tugged and spit blood at your face. you screamed as tommy worked quickly to roll up the window, cutting off the zombies arm leaving it attached to your sweater as you wasted no time leaving.

you thanked tommy mentally for taking the arm off of you and throwing it in the backseat (you weren’t thankful for that part, but it was tommy). you continued to drive with shaken hands at a high speed, desperate to get away from the nightmare you were experiencing.

you couldn’t wrap your mind around what really just happened. who else can say a zombie gripped their sweater and tried to pull them from the car? you can! you didn’t know how you haven’t driven off the road yet from how your mind was spinning, the smell of blood was rancid, and when you wiped it it smeared down your face more.

“that wasn’t as awesome.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

guys idk it’s a filler ig 😨 I wrote this at a daycare.

[gaysindistress]

Dial Drunk - part 2 of Fine Line

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: angst and the feels oh and Peggy Carter slander

Word count: 2.1k words

Master list

Fine line 1 & Cocaine Jesus 3

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom​

a/n: I love a good song fic. Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan sponsors this fic so I highly suggest you listen to it.

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

“Son, is there someone I can call for you?” the Sheriff asks while half dragging and carrying a drunk Steve into the station. Under the dead weight of the mafia boss, the elderly Sheriff struggles to get them inside as the rain pelts them so hard, he’s expecting there to be bruises on both of them.

Steve mumbles something as his head lolls to the side but the other man cannot make out a single word or number for that matter. At the door, he waves to his deputies to him with the door and he all but drops Steve onto his younger deputies.

“Son, I don’t know your name. Where is your wallet or your phone?”

Steve shoves his hand into his coat pocket which sends all of them into high alert but it’s all false as he dumps the asked for items onto a desk. The Sheriff gets to work to figure out his name and find an emergency contact or anything at all that might be helpful.

“Alright, Mr. Rogers,” he announces as he types away at a computer, no doubt pulling up Steve’s criminal record as well as his contacts, “Should I call a Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers? Is that still current?”

Steve scoffs at the name as he falls into a seat next to the Sheriff, “My own wife hates me.”

A deputy gives the Sheriff a look but he ignores it and calls the number nonetheless. Steve slumps back into the hard chair and drops his head back in attempts of sleeping off the horrendous hangover he’s going to have. The phone rings and rings, leaving him with just the dial tone as Peggy ignores the call. They try again but nothing happens. She ignores the call. They try a third time and finally she answers.

“Hello?” her accented voice wakes Steve.

“Hi is this Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers?”

She snorts, “Not anymore. If this is about Steve, call someone else. I don’t care”

The dial tone replaces her voice and all of the officers look at each other in disbelief.

“Did… Did she just hang up?” the same deputy asks.

The sheriff clears his throat and brushes over his thick gray mustache as he thinks about what to do next.

“I told you she hates me,” Steve pipes up, “Wasted your time.”

“Is there anyone else we can call?”

He shrugs, “She won’t answer either.”

Behind them two deputies are whispering to each other about how wrong it was of Peggy to hang up but quickly stop when the Sheriff gives them a pointed look.

“Maybe SHE will answer. What’s her name and number?” He extends the phone out to Steve who drops it and has to slowly reach down to pick it up. It takes him longer than usual to open it and find the number of the woman whose house he practically ran from. After he left Y/N’s house, he found the nearest bar and drank the place out of anything that would numb the rejection pain. For ten years, he dreamed of nothing but seeing his girl again and when he finally did, his past decisions ruined any chance of a relationship with her again. For ten years, he resented Peggy, his father, his mother even and himself for not fighting harder for Y/N. For ten years, he regretted everything he had done and prayed that somehow he could go back in time to just be with her.

“Y/N hates me too.”

Still the sheriff dials the number and hopes that this mystery woman will answer the phone. It rings five times and they’re all beginning to think that this will be a repeat of the first call but she does answer.

Her voice is raw from crying but she answers, “Hello?”

“Hi ma'am, is this Y/n?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“Well ma’am, this is the Kings County sheriff department. I’m Sheriff Anderson. I have Steve Rogers here and he’s going to be held overnight in the drunk tank or you can come pick him up.”

“Shit, okay. Um…” there’s a long pause but they can hear her shuffling around, “I can be there in 45 minutes, is that okay?”

“Yes of course ma’am. We appreciate you answering the phone so late and coming right away.”

“Uh… yeah no problem I guess,” she mumbles something else but Steve doesn’t catch it.

Anderson motions to his deputies and has them take Steve to a cell while he waits. He’s half asleep and even heavier than before as they haul him into his own cell. Next to him is another lonely drunk stranger who was ignored and left to figure their shit out alone. Regardless he can’t be bothered to care and he shucks off his overcoat to use it as a pillow. Crossing his arms over his chest and his legs over each other, he settles into a short nap while he waits for Y/N. A part of him isn’t even sure that she is actually coming and he’s starting to convince himself that she never answered the door in the first place. She’s not coming to take him home…there's no home where they live together. There is no place where they love and support each other because he destroyed that when he married Peggy. Tears begin to grow heavy on his eyes but he won’t allow himself to cry over the past no matter how recent it might be.

He pulls his arms tighter across himself and rolls over so that his back faces outwards. With his face hidden, the tears start to fall against his will and he does nothing to stop them even though just moments ago he vowed that the past wouldn’t bother him. He doesn’t try to wipe them and lets the pain metastasize in his body, growing a tumor of emotions that can’t be cured by anything.

Time slips away from him as the memories and hurt wash over him. Anderson clears his throat to get Steve’s attention and starts to unlock the cell’s door.

“We took his keys so you can drive it home if you didn’t bring your own car,” Anderson says to Y/N.

She smiles and nods, taking the keys from him and clutching them as she stares at the sad excuse of a man laying on the bed. Steve wipes at his eyes and groans as he slides off of the hard jail bed. Shaking out his pillow coat, he puts it on before making eye contact with her. She sighes at him and thanks Anderson for all that he’s done even though it’s not procedure. When Steve stands, he sways and she’s quick to catch him, waving off Anderson who offers to take him. They don’t say anything to each other as she acts as his crutch and walk towards his car. She fumbles with the keys and drops them.

“Lean on the car,” she tells him as she bends down to pick them up, “Do you need my help getting in?”

He furrows his brow like a toddler, “No I can do it myself.”

Shaking her head at him, she unlocks the car and lets him struggle to fold his large body into the passenger side. She slides into the driver’s side and takes a deep breath. Never again did she think that she would dealing with Steve let alone driving his car as he’s almost black out drunk in the passagner seat.

He mumbles something along the lines of “It’s a remote start.”

Y/N hums her understanding and finds the button. It blinks to life and heavy metal music greets them at an unbearable volume. He whimpers at the noise and slams his hand onto the power button to turn it off as quick as he can. Satisfied that the offending noise has stopped, he curls into himself against the window and rests his head on the cool glass.

“Did you put your seat belt on?”

He answers by puling the belt over himself and clicking it into place.

She backs out of the spot and leaves the Sheriff’s station behind. Silence fills the space around them as the street lights and porch lights pass through the window. The lights splash across her face and unbeknownst to her, Steve is stealing glances at her through the window’s reflection. What little he can see of her breaks his heart even more as he can see the fatigue and hurt tense in her features. Her hair, usually styled and pristine, has been hastily clipped up with a claw clip that’s holding on for dear life. Under the long winter coat she’s wearing is just a pair of pj pants and a white crop top. She’s not even really wearing shoes but instead a pair of worn down clogs that should only be worn inside. Seeing how vulnerable she is, he can’t help himself grow protective and upset that she left in such a hurry.

“I hope you drove,” slips out albeit slurred.

“What?” she asks, quickly looking over at him.

“I said I hope you drove.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Do you see what you’re wearing?”

She blinks and scoffs at him, “I just picked your drunk ass up at 2 am and you want to lecture me about my clothing choices.”

“That’s not what I….”

She cuts him off, “Stop. You’re sleeping on the couch and I expect you to be gone when I wake up.”

“Honey.”

“Don’t. I already made myself clear earlier; I want nothing to do with you. I should’ve left you at the stupid station,” she mumbles the last part to herself but he still hears it and sews his mouth shut. The rest of the car ride back to her house is quiet aside from the normal noise of the car and the city.

She wants to regret hurting him with her words but she can’t find it in herself to care anymore. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the petty side of her that strives to inflict as much pain as she can onto him. He did deserve it after all and he’s not protesting at least out loud.

Internally he wants to confess his undying love for her but he knows she won’t care and it won’t change her mind. He does deserve all of her hate and anger. It’s all just no matter how harsh it might be.

Steve keeps stealing glances of her in his window’s reflection and accepts the heartache it induces. Her house comes into view and he can feel her relax when it does. She pauses before fully pulling it and has the garage door open to hide his car from sight in it.

Once inside, she turns it off and waits for the door to shut completely before getting out. Steve watches as she kicks her shoes off and takes off her coat, leaving her in her thin pjs. He climbs out and does the same as her. Following her inside, she instructs him to sit at the island like before while she goes to get him blankets and pillows.

His eyes find the Polaroid again and the memories replay again. The sound of Y/N dropping a stack of bedding brings him around again.

“Here’s a couple blankets and a pillow. Don’t worry about folding them, I'll have to wash them.”

She turns to leave but he calls out softly and stops her, “thank you.”

Her hand rests on the wall beside her and she drops her head to rest on it.

“Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I want you back. I want YOU.”

She faces him again, “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to make a reappearance and magically everything goes back to how it was.”

Steve pushes off and is before her in a few short strides. He gently holds her face in his warm hands and refuses to let go even though she tugs lightly at his wrists.

“Give me another chance. Please honey, just one more chance,” he begs her as he touches his forehead to hers. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed and her breathing grows shallow, hot breath brushing against his face.

He nudges her head back and ghosts his lips over hers, waiting for her to push him away. When she doesn’t, he captures her lips in a slow and intimate kiss. Everything he’s felt over the last 10 years is flooding her as he moves his lips over hers. Every promise he’s made to himself in her name is conveyed as he sighed against her lips.

She’s the first to pull away and is shaking her head when she does so.

“No.”

[ink-and-dagger]

Drink Drunk With Me 🥃🍹🍸🍷🥂

For @catgoblinchelly - because she's a cutie and her asks always make me smile 💜

Silco x drunk!reader || Silco x Astrid || DWM universe || Established relationship || Drunk shenanigans || 1.1K words || SFW || She's absolutely hammered my dudes

The Eye of Zaun cocks his head a fraction of a fraction; an almost feline response to the sound of footsteps approaching his office. 

A single set, heavy, unmistakably Jasper's. Yet the cheerful, slurred babbling that accompanies those footsteps couldn’t belong to anyone other than you.

The reason for the disconnect between voice and gait becomes apparent only moments later.

The door opens. And Jasper enters with you slung over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Silco takes a moment to admire your raised buttocks, before arching a single eyebrow at the disgruntled, green-haired bar manager.

“This one,” grumbles Jasper, tightening his arm across the backs of your thighs to pointedly jostle you, “goaded Sevika into a drinking contest.”

“And?”

Jasper’s annoyance gives way to begrudging admiration, “Yer right-hand is downstairs with her head in the toilet bowl.”

Silco smirks – a sharp, serpentine thing – and directs his praise towards your ass, “That’s my girl.”

“Izat Silco?!” You chirrup from behind Jasper’s back.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Weeeeeee!” 

The uninhibited jubilation in your squeal warms the Eye of Zaun as equally as it tickles him, and he works hard to suppress the quirk of his lips in Jasper’s presence.

The ox-like man carries you to the office sofa, sliding you from his shoulder and laying you on the red velvet cushions with a gentleness that belies his gruff exterior.

“Wanted to take her home, but she insisted on comin’ up here instead.”

“Quite right too,” comes Silco's clipped response, rising from his chair and rounding the oaken desk.

“Hmf.”

“Would you truly rather drag her across the city in this state, leave her alone in her apartment, and risk her choking on her own vomit than entrust her into my care?”

"Yer think I would've just left her alone?—“

“Mnggaaaahwwksksp.”

Incoherent as your squawk may be, Silco recognises it for what it is: a plea for the bickering to stop, and a demand for attention. He cuts Jasper a brief, scathing glance, before perching beside you on the cushions.

“I hear you’ve secured yourself quite the victory this evening.”

Your head, propped up on the sofa arm, rolls in his direction and you beam; all tooth and pride. 

“Ev‘ryome thinksis size matters mbut tisn’t. Ists willpower.”

“I see. And just how large of a bar tab has your ‘willpower’ accumulated tonight?”

You purse your lips, sucking on the truth like it’s a wedge of lemon. Either you decide to avoid the question outright, or else you simply forget what’s been asked, because your head lolls in a half-circle once again, this time coming to a stop to display coyly weighted lashes and a flirtatious little smirk.

“Hheytherecmmutiepie.”

Silco chuckles low in his chest, leaning a touch closer to purr, “Hello, sweetheart.”

An intense satisfaction swells in his chest at the way your alcohol flushed cheeks deepen three shades and you break into a fit of girlish giggles. Nice to know he still has that effect on you.

“Youssocute.”

Quick as a whip, your fingers shoot up, bury themselves in Silco’s hair, and latch onto the roots with surprising force. There’s little he can do but wince against the pain and pray to Janna that his skull remains connected to his spine as you begin to enthusiastically restyle his locks. 

“Scute’n’scrungily. Cutesie kissykittenmmeeeeeow.” 

Before Silco can stop you, you’re yanking his head down, and the force with which you crash your mouth into his would undoubtedly chip his front teeth if that ship hadn’t already sailed.

“Mmph!—Alright, that’s quite enough of that,” he insists, carefully but firmly extracting himself from the clumsy kiss, and digging his fingers into your forearms until you loosen your hold on his hair, “We aren’t alone, don’t forget.“

“But Jasp knowswe’s loverrrrs.”

“Still, darling, I think a bit of decorum is in order.”

“Decrorum? Pfft. All’ese fancy words. Wheres you puttin‘em?” 

To Silco’s dismay, you retighten your grip, twisting his head roughly side to side as though examining the shape of it. 

“Dercorum. Decorcum oop!—” you release him and slap your hands over your mouth with a lewd snort, parting your fingers just enough to hiss between them, “Isaidcum.”

“I can manage from here, Jasper,” Silco sighs wearily, smoothing back his rumpled hair with a practiced palm, “You have my gratitude for bringing her.”

Evidently, the last thirty seconds have made the bar manager uncomfortable enough that he only hesitates briefly before leaving the office with a clipped grunt, closing the door quickly behind him.

“We should get you into bed.”

“Awyeahbabyy.”

“Let me reiterate that you will be getting into bed. I still have work to complete. Particularly now that it appears my right-hand will be out of commission tomorrow.” 

“Butsithou’youslefthanded?”

Silco manoeuvres you up off the sofa and towards his quarters. A tricky feat, considering you possess as much control over your limbs as an electrocuted rag-doll. It isn’t long before the Eye of Zaun, (to your high-pitched delight), simply scoops you into his arms and carries you through to his ensuite bathroom.

Your wriggling energy persists for a little while as he tends to you – coaxing you to brush your teeth, to use the toilet, to finish a large glass of water – but shortly begins to fade. Your eyelids drooping as he gently washes away your makeup with a damp cloth. Head nodding as he redresses you for the comfort of bed. Breaths deepening as he settles you beneath the blankets with water and a small waste bin at your side.

Silco adjusts the duvet until it lays upon you to his liking; a feeble excuse to linger at your side a moment longer. The serenity of your face at rest squeezes at his heart, making it hard to turn away. It’s moments like these in which he feels the tiniest pang of resentment towards the work that keeps him so endlessly busy.

Before he can take even half a step towards the door, he’s halted by a hand closing around his wrist.

Your eyes are barely open, but still, beneath the soft eaves of your lashes, that beautiful light within your gaze still shines, and a small, hushed smile rests upon your lips.

“Do I get a goodnight kiss?” You ask quietly.

The corner of Silco’s mouth rises alongside the memory of a night so very long ago now. Of tucking you beneath his coat upon the sofa, and denying your simple request in favour of a whispered tease in your ear.

But times have changed. These days, Silco no longer finds himself able to deny you a damn thing.

He leans down, a hand upon the mattress and the other capturing your chin in a gentle pinch, and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that’s soft, sweet, and lingering.

“Mmmmmyummy,” you hum sleepily when you finally part.

Silco chuckles to himself, brushing a light, tender knuckle down your cheek as he straightens, and adjusting the blankets, one last time.

“Now go to sleep.”

“Jusonemorekiss—”

“Go to sleep.”

[snugglywugglysocialist]

Dégagé

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" You manage to sputter after choking on your drink.

Casey shoots you an arrogant grin after seeing how flustered she'd made you.

"It's not like we have anything to lose, we would both benefit from blowing off some steam." She says before taking a sip of her drink.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" You quiz, still in shock, but slightly amused.

"A few days." She quips over the rim of her glass.

"I don't know if I should be offended or flattered." You laugh, fidgeting lightly with your hands.

"I would prefer you choose the latter." Casey responds, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

"You're so convinced I'm interested in your proposition, why is that?" You ask cockily, a small smirk playing on your lips.

"You would've kicked me out the second I asked if you weren't interested, don't lie to me and tell me you've never let it cross your mind." She rasps, leaning over your desk so closely that you can feel the warmth of her breath.

"Touché." You mutter quietly, lowering your head.

"You know our asses are had if this were to ever come out, the DA's office leaks like a broken sieve." You say, your eyes falling upon the ajar door of your office.

"I can keep a secret if you can." She states lowly, and you feel the urge to clench your thighs together.

"No strings." You reiterate, bringing your palms up to press into your eyes, still in disbelief with yourself for even entertaining this thought.

"Touché." She remarks, mocking your earlier words.

The older woman downs her drink stands suddenly, making her way towards you after pushing aside her chair. You stare at her blankly as she walks over, her fingertips grazing across the leather of your chair as she makes her way behind you.

A small noise escapes your throat as her hands run through your hair, pushing it over to one shoulder. She leans down, leaning over top of your chair, and aligns her lips with your ear.

"Y'know, I've been thinking about this for a lot longer than a few days." She chides, and you smile vainly at the concept.

She braces herself on your chair as she leans in to make contact with the sensitive skin below your ear, nipping and sucking bruises into the flesh.

Your head lolls to the side as she continues her regards, and your arm comes up to encircle her head, willing her further into you. She bites one final mark into the skin just below your jaw before she stands, leaving you void of her lascivious ministrations.

"Stand up." She demands, and you oblige without hesitation.

She saunters over to the door and closes it, locking the deadbolt and closing the blinds. You watch silently as she walks back towards you, fitting herself snugly between the desk and your body, her hands moving to clear papers off your desk. She stacks them neatly to the side, and your mouth falls slightly agape when you finally realize what she plans to do with you.

"You're seriously trying to fuck me in my own office?" You ask, praying your voice doesn't reveal your desire for her to do exactly that.

"Somehow, I don't think I'll have to plead my case too ardently." She responds, a shit-eating grin painted on her face.

She tosses aside the final folder from the desk, and takes her position behind you once more. She presses into you, and your knees nearly buckle when you feel the appendage hidden beneath her slacks graze against your ass.

She lurches forward until your hips make contact with your desk, causing you to bend over it slightly. You steady yourself on the surface as she snakes her arms under yours, roughly untucking your blouse from your skirt.

Her hands slide upwards, and she laughs wryly when she feels the lace garment cladding your chest. She takes your breasts in her hands, and you bite hard on the inside of your cheek to prevent her from hearing the noises that threaten to spill out of you.

She slides her hands down your body, her nails nearly tearing the skin as they scrape across your ribcage to your waist. Her hands continue running over your body until you're panting.

She drives her right hand up across your spine before entangling it in your hair, pulling back as she uses her left hand to push you down, fully bending you over the desk. The cold wood sears into the skin of your cheek, and your stance falters when she moves to hike up your skirt.

You tremble as her hands slowly begin to peel your matching lace panties down your legs, and she clicks her tongue knowingly as she bends over you. Her weight entraps you against your desk satisfyingly, her hips angled so you once more feel the strap she dons.

Her lips find the nape of your neck, the work of her skillful mouth wearing your resolve thin. Her legs force you against the desk so firmly you feel bruises forming atop your hip bones, and you groan at the sweet pain of it.

You drive yourself against her in attempt to make contact with her length, but she angles backward, stopping you from doing so. You writhe beneath her in disdain, and you feel her smile into you in response.

"Please, Casey." You whimper, and she straightens herself promptly, leaving you void of her weight.

You hear the noise of her zipper being undone, and you silently thank her own growing avidity for saving you from the humiliation of having to beg beyond what you already had.

You feel warm silicone begin to slide through your folds, and you curse under your breath. She laughs deridingly as you squirm in front of her, reveling in the reaction her taunting was causing. She pushes into you gradually, and you whine as she continues to the hilt.

Her left hand perches on your lower back to steady you as she begins to drive in and out of you slowly. Your walls flutter as she scrapes against a particularly sensitive spot within you, and you know you won't last much longer.

Her thrusts become quicker and more languid as she relaxes, and her right hand moves to find your clit. You moan loudly at the double stimulation, and your body begins to come up off the desk. She shifts her left side so her forearm lays across the length of your back, keeping you harshly pinned.

You unravel after the unexpected contact, and your legs tremble aggressively, barely able to keep you upright. Her name tumbles from your lips unintelligibly as she continues fucking you through your climax, only slowing down when you cry out in pain.

You drop to your knees when she steps backwards, leaving you with no support to continue standing. She lifts you up, sitting you on the desk gently, and fitting herself between your legs.

Your hands find her face, and she moves downward to meet your lips; she moves against your mouth placidly, taking you by surprise. You bite down cruelly on her lower lip, causing her to groan loudly, and you laugh as blood pools into your mouth. You pull away from her lips before bringing your arms around her waist, preventing her from moving before you speak.

"So, how long have you actually been thinking about doing that?" You ask, looking up at her, and she smiles as she turns her head away from you.

"Would you believe me if I said since I met you?" She rasps quietly.

"Wow, pining for that long? That's just pathetic." You say smugly, pawing at the swell of her ass.

"Yep." She responds, scoffing lightly at your arrogant affect.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Empty Chairs At Empty Tables

So this is inspired by the song for my favourite musical Les Misérables ‘Empty Chairs At Empty Tables’ where the character Marius sings about loosing his friends during the French Revolution. I feel that this song fits a lot of characters from the HBO war fandom but I was just drawn to writing this fic for Eugene Sledge. Warnings: themes of war, loss, grief, death, death of a beloved pet, PTSD

Thank you so much @georgieluz for proofreading it.

Deacon watched the couple, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as sat with a lopsided grin. Eugene never saw him move but every time he turned around he was right in his heels. Eugene reached down to scratch his dog's head affectionately, watching as he smiled up at him.

“The way he looks at you, sometimes I wonder whether he’s the love of your life instead,” Y/n joked, laughing as Eugene stuck out his tongue at them.

“You’re just jealous that he got the last sandwich.”

“Not at all, you know I’d do anything for him,” Y/n began scratching Deacon’s arm which caused the dog to flop down onto their lap.

“Which is exactly why I’m not worried about leaving you with him. I know you’ll both look out for each other,” Eugene sat down, a solemn look on his face.

“We’re gonna be just fine, right Deacon? Your Dad has nothing to worry about,” Y/n spoke to the dog and Eugene felt his heart swell for the hundredth time that day as he realised just how much he loved them.

“Gene, please don’t be sad,” Y/n reached over, cupping his cheek. “We’re going to be just fine.”

“I know,” Eugene mumbled, his lip wobbling as the tears began trickling down his cheeks. “I just don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to leave either, but I know you have to. It doesn’t make it any easier though,” they admitted, running their fingers through his red locks.

“I love you, Eugene Sledge. Come back to me.”

“I promise.”

To my dearest Y/n,

How I wish I was at home with you. I want nothing more than to be back in that field, on the red-checked picnic blanket with you and Deacon. Those days were so simple. If only all of life could be that simple.

Today I saw a man have his whole leg blown off and he just stood there looking at us, it was as if he didn’t realise what had happened to him until the medics were trying to get him on a stretcher. How does that even happen?

I hope everything at home is going well. Thank you for visiting my parents, it means a lot to them when you visit and Deacon always loves your visits, he tells me so personally. I wish I was there with you. All I want is a hug. It seems silly really, childish even, but to just have your arms around me, even for a second would be enough.

I love you always my darling,

Your Eugene

————————————————————————

My Eugene,

I’m sure by now you have received the news of Deacon’s passing from your parents. I am so sorry, my love. Just know that he did not suffer. His old body carried him well right until the end and I spent the last three days and nights of his life by his side. We sat out under the apple trees and I read to him just like you used to. He was comfortable when he passed. The house is quieter without him. Now that I am without either of you I do feel truly alone, not even Sidney is here to support me.

I pray every night for your safe return to me my love.

I love you forever and always

Your Y/n

Eugene felt his legs shaking as he stepped off the train onto the platform, his hands shaking as he held onto his kit bag tightly. He could see Sidney, leaning against his truck, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. It was the reunion he was excited for but not the one he had been yearning for. Sid talked all the way back to his house, talking of his fiancée, life since he’d been home, and his family but Eugene barely registered any of it, his mind too preoccupied with the image of Y/n.

“Drop me here, Sid,” Eugene spoke up as the view of the driveway came into sight.

“You sure, I can drive you up to the house?”

“No, it’s okay. I need the walk. I’ve been stuck on the train for hours.”

Sidney pulled up to the end of the driveway, cutting the engine.

“It’s good to have you back, Gene.”

“It’s good to be back. Thanks for the ride, Sid.”

Eugene slung his kit bag over his shoulder, leaving Sid behind him as his legs carried him up the driveway in long strides. As he approached the house he could see them, arranging one of the flower baskets by the front door, their sleeves rolled up and looking just as lovely as the day he’d left. Eugene felt his heart swell at the sight of them and he promised he would tell them every day.

He dropped his kit bag in the lawn chair, approaching them slowly so as to not disturb them.

“Y/n?” He spoke, his hands shaking a little at his sides.

Y/n dropped the flower basket, oblivious to the terracotta shattering across the decking.

“Eugene?” They squeaked, their hands coming to their mouth. “Is it really you? Are you really here?” Y/n stepped down off the decking, moving to stand in front of him. Their hand reached up to cup his cheek, Y/n’s fingers grazing at the soft flesh and Eugene sighed.

“It really is you,” they whispered, tears trailing down their cheeks to match Euegne’s.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“It's so quiet, isn't it?” Euegen turned his head to look down at Y/n, as they smiled sympathetically at him.

“You'll get used to the peace again, my love. I promise.”

“It’s not that,” Eugene sighed, shifting to sit up on his elbows, “Deacon always used to snore on the end of the bed. He was so noisy when he slept.”

Eugene could feel the tears starting to trail down his cheeks being brushed away and a chaste kiss placed on his lips. “I miss him every day,” Eugene cried, a sob escaping from his lips as he was enveloped in Y/n’s embrace.

“It’s okay, Gene. We’re going to get through this together.”

“NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU WEREN'T THERE!” Gene screamed, throwing another vase across the room and watching as it smashed on the floor, glass shattering like icicles across the hardwood floorboards and the flowers cascading amongst the disarray.

“I know I wasn’t there for you then, Eugene but I’m here now and I am never leaving your side,” Y/n cried, “So don’t keep trying to push me away because I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you have no idea. They’re all dead, they’re all gone and I came back. Why did I deserve to come back? There are houses all around the world with empty chairs where they should be sitting right now,” Eugene slipped down onto the floor beside the smashed vase, his head hanging low as he sobbed.

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore and was by his side in an instant, cradling him close, comforting him. “Shh Eugene, please don’t talk like this. I need you. Your family needs you. I am so glad you came home.”

“But why did I deserve to come home and they didn’t,” Eugene glanced up at them, his large tearful eyes breaking their heart further.

“Because I love you, that's why. Because it wasn’t your time and quite possible because you deserved to come home.”

“And they didn’t.”

“No. You all deserved to come home. What you must do now is decide what you want to do with your second chance. You were given a chance to come home and you must live each day to the fullest for all of those who didn’t make it home. Okay?” Y/n looked down at him and Eugene nodded, resting his head against their chest. Y/n reached down, cradling their fingers through his ginger hair, soft, soothing strokes. Eugene’s breathing soon settled into a more normal rhythm as Y/n heartbeat calmed him.

“I’m glad I came home,” Eugene whispered, “because I have a very important question to ask you.”

“You do,” Y/n replied, looking down at the man they loved.

“Will you stay with me? Always?”

“Of course I will Gene. I’m not going anywhere.” The couple sat on the floor of Eugene’s room, no longer aware of the time or space around them. The only thing that mattered right now was that Eugene was home, and he was safe and with time he would heal from the horrors he had seen.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @lena-basilone @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @samwinchesterslostshoe

[turnin9pag3]

its 3am and i cant sleep again.

its 3am and im tossing and turning.

its 3am and my mind is my own enemy.

its 3am and my mind is my best friend.

its 3am and i want someone to talk to other than myself.

but everyones asleep.

either that or they just dont care enough to answer.

id rather the prior.

actually id rather them talk to me.

no i wouldnt i take that back.

i do not know what i want.

is this my fatal flaw?

i want to talk to someone to pull me out when ive sunk under again.

but i know i cannot tell anyone.

i am a coward.

i am a coward and everyone is asleep so it doesnt really matter anyways does it.

everyone is asleep and the stars on my roof have long since gone out and my bed is on fire and my brain is melting and my head is in purgatory and thom yorkes voice streams from my record player and i scream for it to stop but i cant bring myself to turn it off.

i miss when that sound brought me comfort.

now all it brings is painful unwanted memories.

but i have to want them to some extent because even after yelling for it to turn off i still get up when it goes dead and flip the vinyl around just so i can start screaming again.

and as all this goes on i question to myself- is this insanity.

have i gone truly purely insane.

lolled over on my flaming mattress while i grab these awful thoughts and smother myself in them.

maybe im a sadist.

or a masochist.

im not sure which to define myself because when your inflicting your own pain from outside your body which can you be accredited for?

the victim or the culprit.

i am the result of my own creation.

i am my own demise.

but its 3am and i dont see any stars so maybe ill try to go bed.

but i guess i wouldnt be up at 3am if i could so ill sit in the dark with radiohead softly singing me to insanity til i drift away or rip my hair out.

i guess we just have to wait and see which will come first.

and lord i pray its not the latter.

[remedymcyt]

i'd love to see any hotguy/cuteguy scarian stuff from you!! doesn't have to be like a superhero au or whatever just whatever strikes your fancy :]

i had VERY different thoughts for this so i'm giving you these two pieces

[]

"That was too close." Grian said, heart in his throat. They'd taken more hits than Grian was really comfortable with, but Hot Guy had kept his cool the whole time.

"We handled it." Hot Guy gave a reassuring smile, just a little strained. "You holding up okay?"

"I'm good." Grian dismissed. He wasn't the one who'd been targeted by their attacker, Hot Guy taking most of the attention.

"No, you're great." Hot Guy said, chuckling.

Grian elbowed him in the side, rolling his eyes. But Hot Guy winced at the action, curling around his ribs.

"What?" Grian said, stepping back to get a better look at his partner. It was fairly dark, but he could make out the blood down his side. "God, why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought maybe it was just your good looks making me dizzy." Hot Guy said, words beginning to slur, and he reached out a hand blindly.

Grian took it, gripping tight and helping to lower him to the ground. "You're such a damn idiot. Don't you dare go unconscious. What happened?"

"Stabbed? Maybe? There was a knife involved but I don't know where it went." Hot Guy mumbled.

"Eyes open." Grian tapped him hard in the middle of his forehead, holding him up and trying to think of his options.

Hot Guy opened his eyes, barely there, and gave an ashen smile, "Hey there handsome."

"Is there someone I can call for help?" Grian said, not sure what else he could possibly do with the much taller man bleeding out in his lap.

"Oh. Yeah. My brother is listening. He'll send someone."

"Help is coming?" Grian prompted.

"Mhm." Hot Guy replied.

Grian surveyed his options and stripped off a layer of his jacket to press against the wound. His hands were shaking. Hot Guy squeezed his eyes shut hard and gave a ragged breath.

"Stay awake." Grian said.

"Who gives the orders here?" Hot Guy mumbled. "I'm going to pass out."

"No, don't--" Grian said, but it was too late, the colour leaving Scar's face and head lolling to the side. Grian cursed colourfully and prayed whoever he summoned would be quick.

[]

Scar really couldn't be blamed, his partner was named Cute Guy for a reason, and Scar was incredibly weak to cute.

Weak, malleable, currently putty in his pink-clad hands, as Cute Guy tugged on his hair while kissing the life out of him. Scar made an embarrassing noise in his mouth, winding the arms tighter around his partner's small waist and deepening the kiss. Mind utterly consumed with the smile on Cute Guy's lips as he fused them closer together.

Cute Guy hummed with appreciation, on his tip toes and bracketing Scar's thigh with both of his own. The brick wall against Scar's back was almost not enough to keep his watery knees up. Cute Guy nibbled on his bottom lip and he went very light headed.

His earpiece crackled. "Your glasses are still on, idiot."

Scar's mind halted, blood going cold.

"I literally went and got a coffee and you're still making out?" Cub lamented, from where he'd be watching from the lab via the live feed of his special tech glasses.

"What's up?" Cute Guy asked, tipping his head back just enough to disengage their eager lips.

"You don't wanna know." Scar said, carefully reaching between them to take his glasses off. "I gotta take these off."

"Oh, are we being watched?" Cute Guy gave an amused smile.

Cub was the worst. "Tell Cute Guy I said hi."

"I'm not telling him you said hi." Scar replied.

"Hello! Your brother is a great kisser." Cute Guy said, leaning closer to the glasses to relay that information.

"I didn't want to know that." Cub complained in his ear.

Scar muffled a laugh and shoved the glasses in his pocket. Then he reached up to hold Cute Guy's stupidly cute face and kiss him again.

[fandomohana]

1986 Will Be Their Year {Eddie Munson x Plus Size Henderson Sister Reader} Chapter Five

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Henderson Sister Reader

Rating: PG

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 4300+

Summary: We've reached the end of the season, Eddie's battle, his rescue, and love confessions. 💙

Authors note: Eddie's rescue scene was inspired by the song Burning by Yeah Yeah Yeahs. When there is mention of Eddie being a coward, that is Eddie talking to Eddie. We know our boy is no coward. 💙

Eddie Munson Masterlist

As the RV rolled down the lone highway, the gentle swaying began to lull members of the group into a gentle doze, Y/N being one of them. With the adrenaline wearing off, Eddie noticed her head begin to loll to the side while her eyes struggled to stay open. In time, the rhythm of the road was too much for her, and her head tipped to the side, finding Eddie’s shoulder, her breath softly fanning out across his neck. His heart skipped a beat as the warmth radiating from her body spread to his own, wrapping him in comfort. He had to stop himself from moving his arm, itching to drape it across her shoulders, and bring her closer into his side. She remained this way, sleeping comfortably for several minutes after the vehicle stopped, to Eddie’s delight, until her head lolled slightly, breaking her slumber.  

Becoming aware of her surroundings, Y/N’s head shot up, eyes wide, “Shit! I’m so sorry! God...tell me I didn’t drool...” She put her head in her hands, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Pretty girl falls asleep on me, I can think of worse situations to be in.” He says with a sly grin, before her other words finally registered, “Wait. You drool?” He couldn’t help the smile in his words.

Not moving her face from its hiding place, Y/N slightly mumbles, “Yes...”

Eddie chuckles, pulling a hand away from her face, “Let’s put this into perspective. We’re both covered in bat blood, lake shit, and I don’t even know what else. A little drool is the least of my concerns, but if it makes you feel better.” He checks his jacket sleeve, and his shirt. “All dry, Princess.”

Y/N shifts her eyes, giving him a sideways glance.

“There she is.” Eddie grins.

Her other hand drops from her face, a self-conscious smile on her face, “Thanks, Eddie.”

The moment is quickly broken when Steve pulls open the door of the RV, and throws a bag in Eddie’s face.

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

Steve, Dustin, and Y/N stood beside the RV, the entire scene shielded by the towering Brimborn Steel Works.

“Are you sure we can trust her?” Steve asked hesitantly, eyes still surveying the entire area for lurkers.

“Me and Dustin trust her with our lives, she’s our cousin, have some faith.” Y/N shuffled from one foot to the other.

Within a moment of their exchange, tires on gravel could be heard as a vehicle came down the long drive to the abandoned building. All three held their breath, waiting to see exactly who came around the corner. Dustin and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief as they saw a blue Cutlass slow to a stop several feet away, and a tall woman, still dressed in scrubs, emerged from the vehicle.

“Dusty, Y/N, what is going on? Aunt Claudia is freaking out!” The newcomer reprimands the pair.

“Tori, we need your help, but you have to trust us.” Dustin implored.

Tori looked around, becoming concerned by her cousin’s behavior, “What is happening?”

Y/N turned her head to the RV, and called out, “Eddie.”

The door opened, and Eddie appeared before the group, noting how Tori’s face began to pale, and praying this had been a good idea.

“What the fuck is going on?! Isn’t that the kid they’re looking for? Why is he with you?!” Tori shrieks.

“Calm down, please! He didn’t do anything, I swear to god! Just trust us, please.” Dustin begged.

Tori eyes Eddie up and down, “Okay.” She says slowly, “I’m listening.”

“Steve, Eddie,” Y/N began, “This is our cousin, Tori, Dr. Victoria Henderson. Steve, please lift up your shirt.”

Steve grabbed the hem of the newly acquired shirt, and began to pull it off his frame. He tosses the shirt to Dustin, and begins to pull the taped gauze away from his skin, exposing the fresh wounds to the doctor.

Tori gasped, “Oh my God, what happened to you?!” She rushes to Steve’s side, inspecting the wounds.

“That’s why we need your help. There are crazy things happening in Hawkins, things that defy logic...things you won’t believe, until you see them.” Dustin spoke solemnly.

The small group explained to Tori, exactly what was plaguing Hawkins, hoping she would believe them, despite the incredulous look on her face.

“So, you want me to believe there is some parallel dimension under Hawkins? You do realize how this sounds, right? I could have you all put under 72-hour observation.”

“Have we ever lied to you?” Y/N asked solemnly.

Tori looked at Steve’s wounds again, she had seen plenty of animal bites, but nothing like this, and her cousins did look scared. She let out a sigh, “Say I believe you, what exactly do you want from me?”

“These little bastards are everywhere in the Upside Down,” began Steve, “We don’t stand a chance without someone on the other side, ready to patch us back up.”

“You want me to run a triage, right? Where exactly would this take place?”

“The Munson trailer, it’s our best way back in. Please, Tori, we wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.” Dustin was practically begging.

Tori looked to Eddie then, “Look me in the eyes, and tell me you didn’t do this.”

Eddie looked to Y/N, who nodded reassuringly, before looking directly into the doctor’s eyes. “I’ll swear on anything you want, I didn’t hurt anyone. I know what people are saying about me, what they’ve always said, but I swear...it’s...none of it is true.”

His eyes were wide, imploring. Tori had some training in psychology, she had seen liars, this kid wasn’t lying. This kid was traumatized.

Taking a steadying breath, Tori gives her answer, “I believe you. I’ll do what I can, but I have to get supplies from the hospital. Give me a time, and the address, I’ll bring a couple of my nurse friends.”

At her words, Dustin and Y/N launch themselves into the older woman, hugging her, and raining a chorus of, thank you, on her. Tori wraps her cousins into a hug, promising them that she would help.

After being given an arrival time, and address to the trailer, Tori waves goodbye to the group, before returning to her car, and disappearing down the road.

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

The sound of metal on metal pierced the air in the wooded clearing, and mingled with the sound of quiet conversation. Eddie and Dustin each drove nails into their respective trash can lids, creating makeshift shields, while Y/N tore rags to wrap around small tree limbs to create torches, another form of defense for the group.

Finishing their task, Eddie lifts the studded shield, “How’s she feeling?” asked Dustin.

Eddie responds with a flourish of the studded lid, “Light. But durable.” Thrusting the shield into the sky, he continued, “Deadly. But reliable.”

Both Dustin and Y/N chuckle from their places on the ground, torch making put on hold to watch the unfolding scene.

Eddie points dramatically in the direction of the two on the ground, lowering his voice to a grizzled growl, “Hear me now.” He lifts his arm toward the air, in a heroic pose, “There will be no more retreating...” Moving out of his previous pose, his voice returns to normal as he proclaims, “from Eddie the Banished.” A coy grin playing on his face, as he pats the shield at his side.

Rising from his kneeled position, and lifting his own shield, “Hey, you’re really ready for bat-tle.” Replied Dustin with a grin, and goofy chuckle.

Y/N rolled her eyes, uttering a simple, “oh lord...” in response to her brother’s antics.

Eddie, however, appeared less than amused as Dustin continued, “You get it?” Eddie continued his deadpan stare toward the younger boy. “Bat-tle. B-A-T.” The look on the older boy’s face remained stoic. “No?” Dustin groaned, looking toward the ground, dejected. “I thought I had a good one.”

Dustin places his shield on the ground, not noticing the swift movement by his side, as Eddie discarded his own shield, and proceeded to tackle the younger boy.

“What are you doing?” Came Dustin’s breathless reply.

Y/N’s voice could be heard over the grunts, yelling, “Eddie, don’t break him, my mom will kill me! Bruises, no lost limbs, I’m serious.”

Eddie laughed, and reassured her that he would do no permanent damage to the boy, as he pushed Dustin from him.

With a breathy, “You son of a bitch!” Dustin launches into Eddie’s torso, pushing the older boy like a tackling dummy, until Eddie’s hand creeps into wedgie territory, and being greeted by Dustin’s cry of, “No wedgies! No wedgies!”

Eddie pulls Dustin up, clapping his hands onto either side of the younger boy's shoulders, “Never change, Dustin Henderson.” Looking into his eyes, and cradling Dustin’s neck, Eddie continued, “Promise me?”

Shaking his head, sobriety overtaking his features, Dustin assures him, “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.” Comes Eddie’s reply, a smile playing on his lips. “Good.” He says again, urging Dustin with a tilt of his head.

Still on the ground, Y/N looked on at the display, a wistful smile playing across her lips, happy to see both boys more relaxed, and lighthearted. Eddie couldn’t know in that moment, how Y/N’s attraction to him grew while she watched them.

Eddie breaks the moment, patting Dustin on the shoulder before calling out, “Hey, Sinclairs. How are those, uh...those spears coming on?

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

With shields, torches, and weapons prepared, the group loaded up the RV, and head toward an unknown future.

Eddie was flanked on his right by Dustin, Y/N to his left, her small backpack of kerosene-soaked torches riding on the floor between her feet. Silence enveloped the space, each person contemplating their futures, their role in the battle to come, and steeling their resolve. A furtive look passed between Eddie and Y/N, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms, and keep her safe.

The RV rolled to a stop in front of the abandoned Creel house. While none of the passengers spoke, the prevailing thought was shared by all, would they live to see each other again? Would this be the battle that would irrevocably tear the party apart? Only time would tell as the RV continued on its path, after Erica, Lucas, and Max departed.

In the dimly lit RV, Nancy went through the plan once again, verifying each participant knew their place, Dustin, Eddie, and Y/N being on bat patrol as part of phase three. The group breaks, entering the silent trailer park, moving with purpose toward the Munson trailer.

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

Before the group could enter through the gate in the trailer’s ceiling, a soft knocking could be heard on the door. Y/N cracked the door open, revealing Tori, and two strangers. All three had arms full of medical supplies, the entire group sighed in relief, the cavalry had arrived.

Entering the space, the eyes of the new women were drawn to the ceiling, and the horrifying sight of red sinew, gazing back like a gaping wound.

“Holy shit...” Tori mumbled, eyes wide in shock.

“Do you believe us now?” Dustin asked.

No words escaped the newcomers' lips, only a trio of nodding heads, unable to fully comprehend what was happening.

Tori shook herself from her stupor, “This is Pam,” she pointed to the redheaded woman whose eyes were still locked in place. “And this is Angela,” she added, pointing to the blonde woman. “We went through school together; I trust them with my life. We’ll set up the triage here, and wait for your signal.”

“Thanks, Tori.” Y/N gave her cousin a quick hug, before leaving the three women to set up their makeshift hospital.

Steve climbs through the opening in the ceiling first, before moving the mattress to catch the other members of the team, as they pass through the opening. Each member takes their turn going through, weapons being tossed through between bodies, until Y/N was up. Climbing her Hobbit ladder on their side, and expecting to climb down the ladder in the Upside Down, she had a moment of confusion when Eddie, again, held out his arms to catch her. Y/N’s descent was less traumatic this time, trusting Eddie’s strength. Despite the dire situation, Eddie couldn’t help the flutter in his chest as her warmth landed, once again, in his arms. Holding her felt natural, and he hoped he would have more chances in the future, in happier situations, to hold her again.

The trailer door squeaks open, as the group filed out into the open. Steve turned to face Dustin, Eddie, and Y/N, “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all,” he emphasized, “you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just---”

“Decoys.” Steve and Dustin respond together.

“We can’t do that, Steve.” Came Y/N’s reply, before she squeezed her brother’s cheeks between her fingers, “We can’t not be cute, look at this face!”

Steve rolled his eyes, as Dustin continued, after freeing his face from his sister’s grip, “Don’t worry, you can be the hero, Steve.”

“Absolutely.” Drawled Eddie. “I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Eddie chuckled. As Steve began to walk away, Eddie spoke again, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

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

With the rest of the group on the move, Eddie, Dustin, and Y/N set to work fortifying the trailer. The trio used a tarp to pull spare debris, metal, and chain link fence sections, toward the trailer, where Eddie secured the found pieces.

Stepping back, the group observes the fruit of their labor. Chain link, sheet metal, and planks adorned any weak spots, or entry points to the trailer.

“Not bad.” Eddie commented.

“Not bad at all.” Came Dustin’s reply.

“Now for the fun part.” Eddie added.

The group burst through the bedroom door, Eddie stopping short when his eyes fall on his guitar, “Jesus Chr...” came his breathy response, before his voice took on a tone of reverence, and awe, “It’s like...she was destined for an alternate dimension. What do you say, Hendersons?” He reaches out, gripping the guitar in front of him by the bridge, gazing upward, “Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?” His voice dreamy, as he glanced back at the Henderson siblings.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Dustin responded with a soft chuckle.

Slinging the instrument across his back, his face taking on an air of excitement, “Let’s do it.”

Eddie, Dustin, and Y/N stood perched on the roof of the trailer, when Robin’s voice came across the walkie talkie, “She’s in. Move on to phase three.”

“Copy that. Initiating phase three.” Dustin relayed, before reaching for the extension cord, plugging in the amp. “Let’s hope they hear this.”

Eddie’s stony gaze looked out across the darkness, “Chrissy, this is for you.” He bites out, ripping the chain holding his pic, from his neck, not noticing the brief look of hurt that crossed Y/N’s face. With a shout, Eddie tore into Metallica’s Master of Puppets, the sound of the chords ripping across the silent landscape.

Dustin and Y/N kept look out, monitoring the swarm with binoculars, and alerting Eddie as the beasts came closer, “We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!” Dustin called.

“T-minus 20!” Y/N cried.

The final warning came from Dustin, “T-minus 10!” As Eddie began the finishing flourishes of the solo.

Y/N’s voice carried through the air, as the final strings echoed, “One!”

The trio raced from the roof of the trailer, onto the cab of a parked truck, into the bed, and raced across to their makeshift cage, Eddie slamming the door as he passed the threshold.

Through the sound of panting, Dustin could be heard exclaiming, “Dude! Most metal ever!” Followed by Eddie’s breathless, “Oh my...oh my God.” The pair finished with screams, and excited jumping.

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

The sound of crashing, and screeching could be heard by the three humans inside the improvised stronghold. All three circled the middle of the room, backs to each other, Dustin and Eddie holding spears and shields, Y/N holding a torch in one hand, and Eddie’s lighter in the other.

An eerie silence broke over the space, as the swarm suddenly silenced. Eddie could feel the slight shuddering coming from Y/N.

Dustin’s voice pierced the silence, “Hey, dipshits! Give up that easy, huh?”

Eddie shushed Dustin as his sister smacked him, “Is that really necessary?” Growled Eddie.

Clattering could be heard overhead as three sets of eyes turned upward, “They’re on the roof.” Eddie said calmly.

A small chorus of, shit, could be heard coming from the two Hendersons. Eddie, Dustin, and Y/N began to creep through the living room of the trailer, stepping closer to the sounds of scuffling coming from the roof.

“They can’t get in through there, can they?” Dustin asked while gazing at the air vent in the ceiling.

A breath later, the vent burst open to reveal the head of a demobat, as it attempted to force its way into the trailer. The demonic creature was greeted by Dustin and Eddie’s spears, as they tore into the beast's flesh.

Eddie realized, quickly, that with the vent open, the three would be outnumbered rapidly. He glanced around, looking for something to slow the horde, as Dustin screamed for him.

“Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” Eddie screamed as he pulled a chair from the small dining table. He placed the chair directly beneath the hole, and grabbed a shield. With a scream, he jammed the shield into the ceiling, blocking the hole, and thwarting the screeching monsters. “Holy shit. Holy shit.” came Eddie’s panted reply.

“Nice.” Y/N gasped out from below.

“Thanks.” He breathed out, giving each Henderson a low five.

As the three caught their breath, Dustin spoke, “Are there any other vents?”

“Oh shit.” was all Eddie could reply, as he jumped from the chair, and dove toward his bedroom.

A small horde burst from the corner of the room as the three began to enter, forcing them into a retreat, while Eddie slammed the door.

As the door began to splinter, and falter under the weight of the beasts, Dustin cried out, “That’s not gonna hold!”

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Eddie screamed over the sound of cracking wood.

The Hendersons didn’t need to be told twice, Dustin began climbing the rope, while Y/N scaled the Hobbit ladder.

Eddie could hear Y/N’s voice from the other side, urging him through. He grabbed the sheet rope, preparing to hoist himself toward the ceiling, and to safety, until his own words replaying in his mind, stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t run. Instead, he grabbed a spear, easily slicing through the rope to the horror of the two Hendersons above him.

Pushing the mattress from under the hole, and slinging a spear across his back, Eddie looks up and tells the pair, “I’m buying more time.”

Crashing through the door of the trailer, Eddie ran toward the discarded bike. He wouldn’t run this time. He wouldn’t be a coward, not again.

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

Eddie raced through the trailer park, leading the swarm behind me, and screaming, “Come get me, you sons of bitches!”

Whatever came next, he was ready. Dustin and Y/N were safe. Eddie wasn’t going down without a fight.

As Eddie maneuvered the bike, a demobat swooped from the sky, ramming him from the bike, into the hard ground. After the momentum of the fall put an end to his rolling, Eddie brought himself back to his feet, and continued to run, the swarm on his trail.

His own words began to replay in his head, stopping him in his tracks, ‘I didn’t know what to do, so I...I...I ran away. I just ran, and I left her there. I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.’

Eddie turned to face the swarm, drawing his shield and spear, he would go down fighting. No more running. The swarm struck with ferocity, his shield holding them back temporarily, as they bounced off the thin metal.

He was able to keep them at bay for a time, but soon he could feel their teeth begin to tear at his flesh, his knees going weak as the ground rose up to meet him. This was it, he was going to die here. He closed his eyes against the onslaught, giving over to his fate.

But then he heard it, in the midst of the swarm, thundering footsteps neared him. Eddie could feel the presence of someone else above him as he willed a single eye open. There she was, like a goddamn Valkyrie riding into battle, two torches in her hands, slinging the burning wood into the demobats around him. Raising his head, he clocked Dustin, shield in one hand, flaming torch in the other, setting the swarm alight.

It only took a few demobats being set ablaze, and crushed under Y/N’s foot, to set the swarm into chaos. He could hear her guttural screams as she pulled bats from his body, and turned each into fireballs. The area quickly silenced, the swarm alight, and in a state of mayhem, as they fled.

Eddie drifted in and out, pulled to his feet, pressure added to the wounds littered across his body, as his torch wielding rescuers blazed a path through the few remaining bats, and to the trailer. He had the sensation of being raised up, hands pulling on him, and a short feeling of weightlessness, before his world went completely black.

--------------------  

Eddie felt himself floating in the inky black of dreamless sleep, the agonizing pain he had felt before, was a distant memory. But in the back of his mind, he felt a pulling, the need to swim toward consciousness, began to pull him through the darkness around him. He had to come back. He wouldn’t give up, he had to get back to Y/N.

With a last push, Eddie could feel himself coming back, the weight of his body began to register, then the feeling of a foreign weight on his left, caught his attention. He willed his eyes to open, forcing the lids up, and allowing the bright light flooding the room, to invade the darkness. In a moment, he was able to discern his surroundings, he was in the trailer, the bed he was lying in felt foreign, Wayne’s he assumed. What remained a mystery, was the weight on his left hand, and arm, at least until he looked down, and was met with the prettiest face he had ever seen.

Y/N looked like an angel, she had pulled a chair to his bedside, and fallen asleep on his arm, her face turned up toward him. Eddie couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, or the butterflies he felt in the pit of his stomach.

“Pretty girl falls asleep on me twice; I must’ve died back there. This has to be heaven.” He says softly.

Eddie’s voice breaks through Y/N’s own dreamless slumber, waking her with a start. “Eddie? Oh my god, you’re awake! Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Her questions came rapid fire.

“Did you drool?” Eddie replied with a grin, before reassuring her, “I’m okay, beautiful. How’re the others?”

“Everyone’s okay, Eddie, we were able to stop it. I need to tell Tori you’re awake.” Y/N tried to stand, but Eddie was faster, grabbing hold of her wrist to keep her in place.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay, but I need to get Tori, she said to call her when you-”

Eddie cut her off, “Y/N, I almost died back there, and I don’t wanna die without telling you how much I love you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock, and then disbelief. “Eddie, you’re on a lot of pain medicine, you just woke up, you don’t know what you’re saying.” she said, looking away.

Eddie cupped her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his own. “Not gonna lie, Pretty Girl, I’ve got a nice body high going. But my mind?” He tapped his head with his free hand to emphasize his point, “My mind is clear, and if you don’t believe me, let me put it this way. The day we met, you walked into class in those black Converse that you sent those fucking demobats to hell with, jeans, a Queen 1982 tour tee, light colored denim jacket with a bunch of pins on it, including an enamel Elvira pin, a Joan Jett pin, Michael Myers, and a fucking adorable unicorn. You had your hair up in a blue scrunchie, you were wearing silver earrings shaped like moons and stars, black and blue jelly bracelets, and a blue splatter watch.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide in complete shock, “You remember all that?” She squeaked out.

Eddie’s grin grew bigger, “Are you asking me if I remember what the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, was wearing when I met her? Baby, I’ve been half gone on you since the second I saw you.”

Eddie’s brain begins to short-circuit when in a flash, Y/N pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. When the feeling of her soft lips against his own finally did register, Eddie deepened the kiss, holding her face between his hands. She felt natural, like every other interaction they had had. She moved her hands to his face, cradling him, neither wanting to end the kiss.

“Oh my god, finally...” Dustin’s voice broke the moment.

Eddie and Y/N broke their first kiss, their foreheads resting together. In unison, the pair raised their middle fingers toward the younger boy.

“Goodbye, Henderson.” Came Eddie’s exasperated voice.

Dustin threw his hands up in surrender, before leaving the room.

“So, uh.” Eddie suddenly felt shy, “Can I take you on a date?”

A beautiful grin spread across Y/N’s face, “Do you really need to ask?”

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

Taglist:

@bohemianrhapsody86, @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior, @a-time-for-wolvess, @ghosttownwherenoonegoes, @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul, @sweetpeapod, @emotionaldreamer, @crazyjenny8675309, @rydellakurancarson

Header credit goes to the fabulous @sweetpeapod 💙

[daintyduck99]

one giving the other their jacket / covering them with it when they fall asleep + Rulie

Also tagging @innytoes, who asked for the same prompt!

Reggie shoulders his way through the sorority house with his heart hammering in his ears. It could be the bass—but he wouldn't bet on it. 

The cacophony had started when he'd realized that Julie wasn't with Flynn. 

He finally spies her wild mass of curls between the banisters of the stairs and leaps over the couple sitting at the bottom, deaf to their indignant cries. 

Some hulking asshole is leaning right up in her face, all but pinning her to the wall, but her eyes slide over to Reggie before anyone can do something stupid, and she visibly melts with relief.

"Reggie!" 

As soon as the asshole crowding her turns around, she stumbles past him and crashes right into Reggie’s chest, tucking her head under his chin and her arms into his jacket. Reggie's arms come around her easily, automatically, and she sighs, snuggling into him.

"Figures," the asshole mumbles, shoulder checking them as he passes for good measure, which makes Julie whimper and Reggie grit his teeth.

He rubs Julie's back, where he's met with warm skin because she's wearing a cute, strappy little black tank top. 

Which he isn't going to think too hard about because he's better than that asshole, Julie's more than her body—

And her well-being is the priority.

"Julie, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No," she mumbles into his shirt, and he's suddenly ready to do something really stupid, like punch that guy to death, when she adds, "I mean…yes. I'm fine, not…hurt. Just. Gross feeling."

"Do you want me to take you home?" 

She makes a sad sound, nuzzling her nose into the curve of his neck. 

He has to suppress a shiver, especially as her lips brush against his throat.

"Take me to your place? I don't…wanna be alone. Please?" 

"Of course," he says softly, pressing his lips to the top of her head, which usually makes her grin and giggle. 

Julie's an affectionate drunk—when she's with her friends. Giggly and sweet, and he hates that she's not laughing, that some asshole ruined this evening, that experience, for her. 

She does let out a little contented sigh, though, lolling her head back to hit him with the full force of her puppy-dog eyes, which are warm and wide and—

Just—lethal levels of adorable. 

"Reggie…carry me?" 

He knows that one of the guys is going to see, and they're all going to give him more shit than they already do, call him out on being whipped for a girl he hasn't even bothered confessing to— 

But it's not Reggie’s fault that it's never the right time. Especially not now, when she's drunk and feeling gross.

Reggie hums. "If that's what you want."

So she clings to him like a koala, and he keeps his arms secure around her back, glad that it does make her giggle.

To him, that's way more important than any of the weird looks they get. 

With some difficulty—mostly stemming from the fact that she doesn't want to let go, even in the slightest—he manages to get her out of the house, down the block, and into his truck. 

She wriggles in the seat as he clicks the seatbelt in, pouting at him expectantly all the while. 

He laughs quietly. "What?" 

"You're out there and not up here." 

Understanding makes him flush.

"I can't climb in the seat with you."

"Why?" She pouts harder. "It's cold." 

"I know. But I have to drive, Jules." 

And she looks so crushed that he's quick to add—

"We're not going far, though. We can cuddle all you like at my place, okay?"

A smile slowly spreads over her face.

"Hmm…okay." 

He closes her door as softly as he can and goes around to hop in on the driver's side. He lets the engine idle for a moment, wishing he could put the heat on, but it's never not busted. 

By the time he glances over at Julie, she's curled up in the seat, drowsing.

He slides out of his jacket, debates sniffing it, decides that would be weird, prays it doesn't smell bad—

And drapes it carefully over Julie's balled up form, heart hammering again. 

She sighs and snuggles into it, much like she had when she'd run right into his arms, and he melts at the sight. 

God, but she's so fucking cute. 

He ends up carrying her into his apartment, too—in for a penny, in for a pound, as his grandpa always says—but when he tries to take the jacket away to give her a proper blanket, she refuses to give it up. 

"Mine," she says sleepily. "Don't…" 

He brushes some curls out of her face, smiling as she nuzzles into his hand. 

"You can't keep it forever, Jules." 

"But you gave it to me…mine, now." 

As with everything else, he's quick to acquiesce, but he does make sure she has some proper blankets nearby—just in case—before he grabs one for himself and makes up the couch.

And after that night—

She never really gives his jacket back, first holding it hostage to make the time to confess, then stealing it from him every opportunity that she gets, but it and his heart are both happily hers. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not Clark showing off shirtless 😄. And I love how well mannered reader is, she cleaned up and even left the snacks. To me that’s having good etiquette🤓she’s so cute with her little please and thank yous . Also non hungover Melanie is not nice Melanie. The conversation reader had with Clark got me thinking that reader is right to assume that Clark is the one who wants to mould her into his ideal woman. But now that he meet reader, he will forget his plans with Melanie and create an entire new plan with reader 😳. Then the going back to work on Monday! I will have you know that I absolutely adore how you described reader work attire! It sounds so peaceful but cute. Love the shoes too ☺️. Roo the size difference between Thor and reader made my knees weak🫠. I had to hold on to something, the way reader had to look up to Thor. The hand size🥵. Thor definitely LOVED what he saw when he was clearly checking reader out! And I would have looked back too to make sure if there was someone he could have been winking at 😂. Im praying for an elevator moment with Thor because he just smells so so good! With his looming big figure pressing on reader or his huge powerful hands wandering underneath readers skirt 😏. Sexual harassment here we come 😎

She's so considerate she won't even ogle the full slab of beef before her loll. Clark was definitely thinking he might get her attention but she's just too polite.

Melanie gonna be mean no matter what. I wouldn't be surprised if her non-apology is more her telling reader she needs to not make her look so bad and to tell Clark how nice Mel really is (isn't). It doesn't matter, Clark sees through Mel and will only stay so he can get closer to the sweet little small town bumpkin.

Reader is such a cutie! Something like this

And a cutesy skirt. She probably stood up and he probably barely noticd a difference haha. I bet he felt her tiny hand and was about to breakkkkk.

And elevator 'ride' would definitely be fun hehe. In a crowded elevator and he just has to get closer to her, right behind, his hand creeps up her stomach as more people get on an he just wants to move her out of the way... 🤤

[drades-lair]

Pharmacy Raid

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Striker/OC

Note: Plant belongs to the wonderful https://x.com/Exhausted_Plant

Sloth is considered the mildest of hell’s rings, most of the hell born who live within the ring are considered some of the happiest and laid back in all of hell. Plant was no different or at least when it came to being happy, they were a bit of a busy body. Flitting around the pharmacy that by this point she’d pretty much inherited from the owner to do her daily chores including doing restocks. Afternoon brought a comforting glow as the pastel colors of Sloth’s ring gained a warm hue, Plants duties winding down allowing them to take a more casual pace as she went through receipt logs when the pharmacy’s front door dinged indicating someone had entered. Turning with a wide smile Plant prepared to greet whomever it was only to freeze instantly, smile dropping upon seeing the group of Greed sharks standing just inside the door. Four menacing sharks covered in scars carrying weapons of various varieties causing Plant to fearfully step backwards, back hitting the check out desk.

“C-Can I-I help you?” Plant’s voice shook with fear.

“Nah, we’re just gonna help ourselves,” The bulky shark upfront answered with a cruel smirk upon his features, hitting a bat against his hand.

“Our boss Crimson needs more inventory, and we think this little pharmacy can help with the restock, ha-ha!” A tall skinny shark in back laughed, licking a knife.

“P-Please…take whatever you want…just…let me go…” Plant begged shrinking in on herself.

“Sorry, can’t risk Ya sending anyone after us,” A short stalky shark growled.

“N-Noooooo!” Plant shrieked as the sharks bared down on them.

…

Plant’s eyes cracked open to the shadows of early evening falling on the now wrecked pharmacy, all the inventory had been taken and debris littered the ground. Agony pierced Plants small frame as they began to crawl towards their phone which lay partially broken on the tiled flooring a foot in front of them, a trail of blood smearing behind them as she prayed the cracked device would still manage to make a call. Tapping harshly Plant managed to get into their contacts where only two names resided, they tapped the second name then put the phone on speaker as the name ‘Calus’ appeared on the caller ID.

“Hello?” Calus’ voice came across the speaker.

“C-Calus…h-help…p-please…” Plant could barely whisper the words through the agony coursing through her little form.

“Plant? That you? What’s wrong?” Calus questioned.

Plant tried to respond unfortunately her mind was quickly fading causing their vocal cords to stop working, the world around them falling into darkness.

…

Fortunately for Plant, Calus was in the Sloth ring to retrieve payment for a job he’d done with Striker a couple weeks back. Aurora’s hooves pounded the paved roads of Sloth, eerie toxic green flames illuminating the fresh darkness of evening as she carried Calus into Sloth’s main city. Calus was taken aback by the state of the small pharmacy were Plant worked, neon sign broken and hanging from its mounts, windows broken along with the glass doors and debris trailing from inside. Cursing under his breath the Dracony dismounted his hell steed, rushing to the broken glass doors where he grabbed the frame to step half inside, looking around desperately in search of Plant. Calus caught sight of plant laying on the tiled floor a foot from the broken cash desk, blood smeared on the floor behind her. Calus made his way towards the small hybrid causing glass to crunch beneath his feet, taking a knee before gently turning them over, cradling them in the crook of his elbow.

“Plant? Plant? Can you hear me?” Calus asked, gently cupping their cheek with his free hand as he glanced at their blood-stained clothing.

Plant didn’t respond, their breathing shallow as their head lolled into the crook of Calus’ arm sending a wave of concerned panic through the Dracony. Carefully Calus scooped Plant up to take her out to where Aurora was waiting, mounting the steed before pulling out his phone once he was settled with Plant to contact the Sloth hospital and more specifically a friend he had there.

“Raye, I need a backdoor entrance and private treatment room,” Calus spoke into his phone as he gave a flick of Aurora’s reins.

Upon getting to the hospital in all it’s pastel pink glory Calus went around the back on Aurora, dismounting by a set of industrial looking double doors that read ‘emergency’ in black lettering across them. Hurrying inside with Plant in hand Calus was met by one of Sloth’s typical hellions, a goat demon with a candle atop their head that was about half Calus’ height yet was thin and tall with a pink form fitting dress that dawned the upside-down health cross of Sloth’s medical system. A gurney near the goat demon was where Calus quickly deposited Plant’s unconscious body resulting in the medical demon’s demeanour immediately shifting as she slammed the sides on the gurney up.

“Let’s go, Raye!” Calus declared moments before they both took off.

Raye and Calus rushed Plant into a treatment room not far from the back doors, Raye getting instantly to work on gathering medical instruments while Calus shrugged off his duster which he tossed onto a chair in the corner of the room. Lowering the gurney’s sides followed by turning on an overhead light that he promptly pulled down, Calus gently pulled Plant’s baggy T-shirt up to expose her mid torso where immediately it became clear they’d been put through the wringer. Plant’s torso was covered in wounds ranging from bruises to cuts and stabs, it appeared her left arm had been broken as well.

“What do you need me to do?” Raye inquired, pulling over a metal tray on wheels filled with medical equipment.

“Start an IV and get a blood transfusion started as well,” Calus instructed, getting to work identifying what he could heal immediately and what needed to be stitched first.

“Got it,” Raye confirmed, moving to do as instructed.

Plant let out a series of small whimpering cries, coming to semi consciousness from time to time during the treatment process. Calus had brought them through the back emergency entrance along with having a private treatment room set aside because he wasn’t certain if whoever did this to Plant in the first place would come back if they found out she was still alive. Striker had been notified of what was going on along with a special request from Calus to begin hunting down the bastards who did this something the pale imp was happy to oblige. A long two hours worth of treatment later and Calus was satisfied he’d done all he could for Plant at that moment, allowing Raye to transfer the little hybrid to a private recovery room where Calus settled in a large armchair to await either Striker to arrive or call him.

…

Night settled into the Sloth ring, Calus scrolling absently on his phone with one leg crossed over the other casually watching Plant out of the corner of his eye. Around the middle of the night Plant began to stir, head shifting from side to side with a pained moan followed by their eyes fluttering open. Calus stood from the chair he’d been sitting in, sliding his phone into his back pocket as he strode to Plant’s side however, she didn’t focus at first resulting in a fearful gasp escaping her. Plant jerked then cried out in pain just as Calus placed a gentle hand on the hybrid’s shoulder to steady them.

“Easy, easy…it’s Calus,” Calus reassured Plant in a quiet gentle tone.

“C-Calus? You did come…I didn’t think you’d…ugh!” Plant gave a little wary smile before wincing again.

“Take it easy, try to stay still. You were beat up pretty good,” Calus stated, placing his second hand lightly on Plant’s torso to steady her.

“Why did they do this? They didn’t…have to do this…” Plant whimpered out, tears welling up in their eyes.

“Sshh, who did this?” Calus inquired, rubbing the hybrid’s upper arm in a soothing, comforting manner.

“Greed sharks…they said their boss told them to raid…Sloth pharmacy’s…they said mine was an easy target…” Plant sniffled, leaning into the comforting touch from Calus.

“Did they tell you, their boss’s name?” Calus wondered, moving his hand from Plant’s torso to take their hand allowing the little hybrid to squeeze it.

“C-Crimson…I think that’s what they said,” Plant stated.

“Crimson!? That fucker!” Calus growled averting his gaze from Plant for a moment.

“Am…am I gonna die?” Plant stammered out, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks as their big yellow eyes stared up at Calus.

“No, I’ve tended your injuries. It’ll take time to heal but you will heal,” Calus reassured Plant.

“It…it hurts…a lot…” Plant whimpered again.

“I know. I’ll see about getting you another does of pain meds,” Calus stated with a sympathetic look.

“C-Can…I…hug you…?” Plant sniffled out.

“Sure,” Calus gave another sympathetic smile as he sat on the edge of the bed to allow Plant the ability to hug him. The hybrid nuzzled into Calus’ chest with little hiccupping sobs as they sought comfort from the agony their body was in. Calus gently rubbing Plant’s back as he tried to comfort the hybrid as much as possible.

Calus eventually pulled away from Plant to go fetch Raye who promptly retrieved another dose of pain medication, administering it while Calus retrieved a cool cloth that he pressed to Plant’s forehead. Holding Plant’s hand again Calus gently pressed the cloth to her forehead and face until the pain meds took effect allowing the little hybrid to fall back asleep just as Striker came striding into the recovery room. Striker spared a glance over Plant’s bandaged, battered body while moving to Calus’ side with a frown upon his features.

“They did a number on them didn’t they?” Striker commented in a quiet whisper although his tail began to rattle irritably.

“Crimson did it,” Calus responded just as quietly yet there was a growl reverberating in his tone.

“Crimson!? The fuck that prick want wit them?” Striker retorted, snarling under his breath.

“He needed a new drug supply and decided to hit the smaller pharmacies in Sloth…like Plants,” Calus briefly explained, shifting the cool cloth around Plant’s forehead causing her to release a small appreciative moan.

“Son of a bitch! No wonder I couldn’t find anythin’ on who did this,” Striker irritably snarled, tail rattling louder now as his gaze returned to the little hybrid laying in the hospital bed.

“He won’t get away with this, but for now we need to take care of them,” Calus stated pulling the cloth from Plant.

“Agreed,” Striker confirmed.

…

Two weeks in hospital saw Plant back on their feet for the most part however even after returning home once discharged, Calus and Striker stuck around to look after Plant including getting the pharmacy fixed up. Plant hadn’t had a lot of friends especially not ones who’d go to these kinds of lengths for them thus it made them tear up anytime Calus or Striker told her about things they were doing. Two months after everything happened things finally returned to somewhat normalcy with Calus and Striker stating they’d need to return to Pride. More then grateful Plant hugged both Calus and Striker farewell with the reassurance that should they ever need help again that the duo would come back in no time.