#but it just backfires and all he is left with is more hurt

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

#spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown imagines #hobie brown x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader

[earthpleasures]

SIMP OF CENTURY !

Percy Jackson x fem!child of nyx!reader

Summary: Your reserved personality sparked curious thoughts in Percy's mind for years. Whenever he tried to get close to you, it backfired on him. But Hero of Olympus was never taught to give up.

Warnings: swearing, reader described as having 'night-like dark eyes'

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I haven't watched the pjo show, which means Percy's character and looks are based off the books. Louis is just a fan cast. I adore Walker, and I think he's such a good actor. So if you wish to imagine Percy as show Percy, you're free to do so! <3

dividers by: @benkeibear

"when I saw her walking down the street

she looked so fine, I just had to speak.

i asked her name but she turned away"

- mmm yeah by austin mahone, pitbull.

Everyone in the Camp Half-blood liked Percy Jackson, the most influential figure of the Second Titan War. Y/n did too, but not in the way young boy wanted. She saw him as a hero, no more of that. Which made Percy yap about her next to Annabeth's ear. Blonde could swear goddamn Seaweed Brain had no fucking dignity when it comes to Y/n. 

Being one of the children of Nyx, she was powerful. She was powerful yet in the background. He still remembered the scary ass encounter he had with her mother, Goddess of Night warning him to stay away from her daughter. 

Percy ‘impertinent’ Jackson never obeyed a word of Gods, said goddess being a primordial goddess didn't change his view of Immortals. Of course he was a little scared though, not of a goddess but of an angry and protective mother.

“To left! TO LEFT! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GUYS FORGET ABOUT Y/N!?” Connor screamed his lungs out as Y/n ran to the red flag. Her keeping quiet for most of the game caused all other red team members to forget about the girl's presence. 

Percy took a breath as he charged towards her. His sword touched her back, threatening her to step away from the flag. “C'mon, stars. We both know how this is gonna end.” She wet her lips and sighed. “Yeah, whatever.” She stepped away from the flag. Percy was about to smirk with victory when she rushed towards the flag again. 

Without thinking a second, he threw his body over hers, preventing her from grabbing handle. “What the fuck Jackson!?” Her angry voice rang through the area as they rolled on the soil together. His legs straddled her. “Looks like we ended up on top of each other again.” He said, referring to all other games. Y/n narrowed her eyes as her lower suddenly lifted from the ground and threw the boy over her body. “Arrogant bastard.”

She ran to the flag without allowing herself to catch her breath, leaving Percy behind who's groaning with pain on his back. “Damn, girl. It hurted.” He mumbled as he stood up. Last thing he saw was Y/n smirking at him with her knuckles wrapped around the handle of the red flag. She let herself fall into the shadows of the flag tower and mix into the darkness. 

She was only child of Nyx that could shadow travel properly and was allowed use it only once during game since it would be unfair to other campers and game wouldn't really have a meaning as long as she played. And of course she kept it for this moment. 

He cursed as he heard the honk announce the victors, tearing a few pieces of grass and throwing them to air. “Well, at least we had physical contact…” He pouted, trying to console himself.

“Hey, what's up, stars? Drawing the moon again? Can I see it? Please?” He spoke quickly, afraid she would disappear into darkness as usual. Girl looked up to him from her sketchbook. Sparks of little stars illuminated her night-like dark eyes, passed to her from Nyx. 

“Don't you have better things to do, Jackson? Training new kids, doing your shit as one of the ‘Counselors’? Or better, go mourn your loss and your back.” 

Her voice was bitter as ever. Y/n didn't really have any friends in camp. It wasn't that she had distaste for others, socializing wasn't her thing at all. However she never acted rude when someone reached her for help. Only ‘friends’ she had were her siblings. Being their counselor, they had to speak to their oldest sister even if they didn't want to.

He narrowed his eyes. “That's rude. You almost broke a few of my ribs.” Y/n raised her eyebrows with eraser on her hand. She spoke while getting rid of a crocked line from the white paper. 

“Sounds like a you problem, my ribs seem to be perfectly fine.”

“And also, looking at my schedule, I have all day for you.” He smiled, green eyes reflecting the sunshine. She gave him an uninterested stare. “Good for you then?” Percy knew damn well that expression on her face. She's going to disappear again. He exclaimed her name. His fingers wrapped around her wrist before she became one with shadows. 

He shadow traveled before, he knew the feeling. But it didn't relax his senses as his reflexes screamed to kick and escape. When they arrived at their destination, it was dark everywhere. His brows furrowed unintentionally. “Where are we?” Y/n looked really troubled with his presence being next to her. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Why would you stick to my wrist like a leech!?” He smirked at her distressed state. 

“Only a leech for your attention.” He winked.

“If you keep talking like a fuckboy, you will experience my affection right on your cheek in a very violent way.”  

“Yes ma'am.” 

He put his hands to his hips as he inspected their surroundings. Giant green pine trees were surrounding them, not a sound coming from the forest besides wind hitting branches. “So, back to my previous question, where are we?”

She bit her lower lip as if she didn't wanna answer the question asked. “Uh, we're kind of… on the other side of the world?” Percy's face went completely blank. “What?” 

“We're in a country where it's night right now.” He stared at the moon shining above them, the weather was clear enough to see the stars with bare eyes. “Really? That's quite exciting, which country are we in?” She thought for a second.

“Turkey.” He couldn't help but snort. She pressed her lips together at the strange choking sound he let out. “If you're going to make that immature ass joke I am gonna leave you here and never come back.” He tried to retain his serious look after hearing her not-so-fully-threat sentence. He knew she would actually leave him here with no mercy. 

“Okay, okay. Jokes aside, this forest is the definition of peace.” She looked around them, smiling at the beautiful view while inhaling the clear oxygen. “Beautiful places are always hidden by the ugliness of metropolises.” His gaze locked on her rarely seen eased-up face. “Yeah, it's beautiful…” 

“I travel to places where it's night whenever I feel the pressure of a stressful day or when I am trying to escape your boyish remarks.” Percy put a hand on his chest and fake gasped. “How dare you call them boyish? I put my whole heart into them!” She let out a low toned giggle, keeping quiet to not to disturb the rest of the animals. 

“I apologize for my rudeness, Mr. Jackson. I haven't noticed that you poured your heart into wasted attempts of flirting.” Percy sat on a fallen log, tip of his foot digging into fresh soil. “They're not wasted attempts. Nothing is wasted when I do it for you.” 

For the first in their years of banters, Y/n was taken aback. “I… appreciate your efforts Percy. But I just don't get what makes me so valuable in your eyes. I am not the strongest swordsman in camp, or the most beautiful girl around. I don't return your flirts or compliments. It's strange to see you never give up on… me.” 

Percy looked into the depths of her eyes, green eyes holding more than just interest ignited in his heart. “I don't care about how beautiful or how strong you're. I care about who you are. I care about the girl who can't help but chuckle when she sees owls flying around her, I care about the girl who helps anyone in need of her, I care about the girl who makes incredible drawings.” With languid movements, he stood up from the log he was settled on. His calloused hands gently reached to her, fingers interlocking with hers.

“I always kept my efforts on you because you never said anything about me harassing you. If I ever sensed you being uncomfortable around me to the point you can't stand my presence, I would've stopped. Hope kept me going.” Her confused expression softened as his sentences progressed. She could feel her eyes watering, tears were ready to overflow and roll down on her cheeks. 

“Percy…” His finger rubbed her palm, grayness from the pencil smearing his thumb too. “I am so sorry Y/n. For making you feel distressed in a place where you should be secure from all threats. I've never been flawless and i-” 

His eyes shoot open when soft, cold lips pressed against his. Her hands clutched on his orange t-shirt, eyes closed as she let herself get lost in sensation. Soon enough, he came to his senses too, hands flying to cup her cheeks. 

When they parted he laid her forehead against hers, she let out a chuckle. “You look so red, like my rose drawings.” He embraced her, not giving an answer to her teasing. All he needed was to feel her skin against his and inhale the scent he has been longing for years. His face buried on the crook of her neck. “Y/n?” 

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Yes?” 

“I think I am gonna faint cause my heart is beating abnormally fast.” 

“What- PERCY! OH MY GODS!” 

Her shock filled shriek echoed through the whole forest, six feet tall Percy Jackson collapsed on her. “Are you kidding me!?” She did the first thing that came into her mind, took him back to Camp Half-blood.

Percy opened his eyes, the ceiling of the cabin welcomed him. “Fuck, it was all a dream again.”

“Woah, you dream about me?” 

Young boy let out an almost girlish scream as he pulled his blanket over his chest like he tried to protect his pudicity. Y/n grimaced. “Goddammit Percy, roosters are amateurs next to you.” His ragged breath slowed down when he saw the very face that was the star of his ‘dream’. 

“You aren't dreaming, I kissed you, so-”

“WE'RE DATING NOW!?” 

And that was how all residents of Camp Half-blood learned about their relationship.

Upcoming days, Percy was like a limb of her. Eighty percent of his time was spent with her, the other twenty percent he was yapping about her to Grover and the rest of the Seven. 

Contrary to what she thought, days turned weeks, weeks turned months, months turned years. Percy kept torturing everyone around him about his girlfriend, his fiancée and his wife. 

And maybe they weren't Immortal, but through generations, Camp Half-blood remembered the lovesick couple of 21th century.

©2024 earthpleasures do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo fluff #fluff

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! Mm just imagine, Black Widow Reader webbing up Miguel all dosed up on her venom and riding him. He's absolutely fucked out his mind, his heart racing with primal fear and arousal. And you're still rolling your hips on his cock. Your little toy. You caress him and praise him, he growls occasionally. He's red and sweaty all over. Teary eyed and fangs bared. What a cutie. Your cutie~

Jeeesh, just shuddered 🥴❤️ nsfw undercut

Bit of Sub! Miguel

"C'mon Boss" You panted for the umpteenth time as your hips smacked ontop of his. His cock twitched at the tightness it was put under.

His breath mixed with low growls as he approached once more at his climax. He thought he could handle you, handle the venom, trying to immunize himself against it. But every try backfired at him, big time.

You might have given him a bit extra than he could actually manage, just out of revenge for him not putting you in a mission after keeping you in the dark for quite the time. His own punishment for you after you left him with a raging boner.

"Fuck!" You whimpered as his hot cum painted your walls once more. Your talons dug in his waist, a wet mess between you both. Both yours and his hot seed splattered on his lower abdomen and your inner thighs. Mating season was still on for you. And every time he came, it made your body sing in momentary relief at your raging need.

"One more" You gasped and he threw his head back, a croak as he tried once more to unleash himself from your webs.

"You're so delicious" Your hand grabbed his front bangs, and made him look at you as your hips begun their rough and desperate attempts to milk him dry, again. He had lost count after the fourth one.

"L-Lyla" He choked as your sunk yourself as deep as you could in a go. Sheathing him so snuggly and delicious.

You wailed and his voice was cut off as you wrapped your hands around his neck. Your needy, preying and low key deranged expression made his aching and overstimulated cock to twitch and the urge to keep buried inside you stronger than ever

"Heart rates are still normal, Boss. You're not dying anytime soon!" Lyla's ever playful voice echoed from his watch.

"How... How the f-" He was cut

He hissed and your pace increased, Rough and constant friction were surely overriding his senses, his voice gave low and borderline pathetic moans. It hurted so so good.

"I f-fucking swear..." He rasped but yelped with such desperation it made your eyes twinkle in amusement.

"But Miguel~" You hissed the word as you now supported your hands on his knees, even though his eyes were teary and his head felt spinning at the raw pleasure, he could still see you, moving your hips up and down to a pace he wouldn't be able to forget even if his life depended on it. Sweet moans and praises fell off your mouth.

"You have such a good cock, I need it." A pant, your nails dug on his skin, drawing blood, "Keeping it to yourself isn't nice." You spoke between raged croaks. The obscene and sloppy sounds your cunt and his his spilled cum made, didn't help in placate your need for him.

"Y-You shouldn't be selfish" Your walls purposely constricted against him and he inhaled sharply, eyes widening as his jaw clenched. Pleasure was devastating his mind. No coherent words could float out of his mouth, just sounds he never thought hearing himself doing.

"Please-" He choked as his body tensed and you received another warm load, your legs shook and your womb hoarded his seed like no tomorrow.

"You're so good when you cum inside me" You stilled for a moment, earning his cock a much needed break. You mouth kissed him deeply, and his eyes drooped, heavy in something he couldn't describe. It wasn't lust but something much more raw and consuming than that.

And there it was again, that fire that would surely made your bones ache in protest the next day. But it didn't matter. None of that mattered

"One more, Please, I'm so so close!"

"No puedo-" His torso heaved as his body screamed for you, "Por Dios, no p-puedo-" (I can't)

He whimpered and clenched his jaw once more, drowning the sudden moan your vice like grip insides trapped him in. Your stamina surely matched his, but this time your venom had knocked all those stats down. He didn't know if to feel terrified or aroused at the fact you had gotten him so out of his mind, it was worse than Rapture, but difference was that the only thing he actually craved was you.

"You can" You gasped, "Gimme one more, Miguel" Your grip on his throat sent shivers down his spine. His arms felt numb at this point but the rest of his body was on fire, slicked in sweat and cum. Your laugh mixed with the sweetest and lewd groanings he could ever hear from you. His once pristine hair fell over his face, obscuring his heated and embarrassed expression

"You're such a good fuck toy" the nickname earned him a growl and his fangs to bare at you. Breast bounced before him, it was almost hypnotic how your hands grope, squeezed and toyed with yourself.

"Fu.. Fuck you" He mumbled as he felt that ominous pressure building up inside him. His lungs gave paused and deep breathings trying to not break, something you were determined to do. You biting at the tender spot between his neck and shoulder was enough for him to give a gurgling growl as he came inside you with a choked whimper. Your forehead against his and panting in each other's mouths. Your walls trapped and milked him. Finally, relieving completely your heat.

"Such a good good boss for me"

His head almost nuzzled your hand as you caressed his cheek. He was your favorite prey.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o'hara smut

[steddielations]

Eddie’s missing. Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond: Eddie’s missing, find him. The last few hours, it’s been his every thought, his every action.

There’s never a smooth visit to Hawkins. Eddie’s reputation has only gotten worse in the years since they moved to Chicago. Every time they come back, something goes wrong. But Eddie wanted to spend Wayne’s birthday with him, which also happens to be his mom’s birthday. That’s why he put on Wayne’s Muddy Waters record after a few drinks too many, mumbling, “Doesn’t sound the same.”

One second, Eddie was drunkenly rocking to the music, then he went outside for a smoke and didn’t come back. 

Wayne shouldn’t be out in the cold weather, but nothing could stop him from getting in his pickup to look for Eddie.

Steve’s mind jumps to nightmare conclusions. Eddie still has enemies, maybe they’re finally taking their revenge. Or what if they hadn’t destroyed the gate afterall and something worse took Eddie? Steve’s mind skipped every small explanation, but that detail about Eddie’s mom comes back.

He’s searching backroads and the thought leads him down Philadelphia street. No one goes there anymore, convinced there’s more ‘Munson victims’ buried where Eddie’s childhood home once stood.

Steve sags with relief when he shines the headlights and sees Eddie among the piles of old burned wood.

“Eddie!” Steve’s already jumping out the car, hurrying to him, “Oh God, there you are. What are you doing out here, baby? You okay?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to realize Steve’s there, frantically digging through the rubble. Looking for something.

“Eddie?” Steve reaches him, crouching down next to him, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Without looking up, Eddie mumbles something like, “Can’t find ‘em.” 

“Can’t find what?” Steve asks, keeping his tone soft despite how worried and confused he is. Eddie doesn’t answer. There’s random cuts and splinters on his hands, covered in dirt and soot but he doesn’t slow down. Steve winces at the sight and reaches for his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention. 

“Eddie, look at me, hey. What is it? You can’t find what?”

Finally, Eddie turns to look at him. Though, his stare is a thousand miles away, eyes wide and bloodshot. The headlights show tear tracks through the soot dirtying his face. It’s like he’s in a trance, still mumbling things Steve can’t quite make out. He can smell the beer on Eddie, but he knows this isn’t just from drinking. Eddie gets stuck in his head sometimes, like in the boathouse all those years ago. Reliving nightmares from '86, and things that happened to him long before that too. 

“Her records,” Eddie stresses, “My mom’s records. I left them right here.” 

Steve looks down where he points to nothing but charred, rotting wood. There hasn’t been a house here in years. Steve remembers the fire, everyone said Eddie did it just because he was a ‘no good Munson’. Steve didn’t learn the real story until later. Eddie told him about the records, how they burned in 84 when all his dad’s scheming backfired.

“Eddie…” 

“They were right here!” Eddie interrupts, almost like part of him knows what Steve’s going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I left them right here and now I can’t find them.” 

With a half-choked sob, he turns back to scouring through the rubble.

“Hey, It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not. I gotta find them, Steve, they’re all I have of her,” Eddie strangles out, flinching when Steve’s hand slides behind his shoulders.

Steve swallows down the emotion swelling in his chest. Feeling powerless to really do anything, he says, “Okay, we’ll— we’ll find them. It’s okay.”

That’s the only thing that seems to ease Eddie. Though, the way he slumps seems like he knows it’s not true, but lets himself believe it anyway. Just for the comfort. 

He’s breathing raggedly, shivering in the cold and every sob rattles his body under Steve’s hand. Finally, he lets himself sink fully into Steve, his cold wet nose pressed to Steve’s collarbone.

“S’all I got. Momma’s music,” he keeps repeating as Steve rubs his back, so drunk and so sad, “Gotta get ‘em back. S’all I got left of her.” 

“I know, baby, we’ll find them.” Steve presses kisses into Eddie’s forehead, holding him and rubbing his back. It’s not the truth, Eddie knows that, but he doesn’t need the truth right now. So Steve says it again and again, as long as Eddie needs to hear it. “We’ll find them.”

#sorry again #if you know you know #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #stranger things #rueswriting #mp

[rabbitblackx]

Can i request some headcanons with Oni, Mastermind, Ghostface, Trickster reacting to their sweet and innocent reader getting accused by a random survivor for throwing a rock at them, even though the person was the one that did it, and not the reader. The person also tried to get them to chase the reader instead of him or her order to get away. But it immediately backfired due to them knowing better that their survivor reader would never do something like that to them?

I hope that you had a good Halloween rabbit! 💖

Yeah cool no problem! Hope u like it :) and I hope u had an awesome Halloween too!!💖

DBD Killers when an Innocent!Reader is framed for throwing a rock at them🤭🪨

Includes: Ghost Face, Oni, Trickster and Mastermind

Ghost Face

Feng Min pegged a rock at the Ghost Face, successfully decking him in the back of the head. The man sighed, turning around to see you and her by a generator. Feng immediately pointed at you, framing you for her assault. She then darted away and left you in her dust. You gaped at the betrayal of your fellow survivor. The Ghost Face met your eyes through black mesh

“Wha? It wasn’t me. I swear! She—she lied!”

The Ghost Face’s shoulders shook as he gave a raspy chuckle. Of course it wasn’t you. You were far too sweet, and he knew that. He knew that well

“C’mere, gorgeous.”

Your eyes grew wide as he waltzed over, hooking an arm around your waist. The Ghost Face yanked you into his chest, causing you to blindly grip onto leather with a yelp. He would go get your ‘friend’ later. But as of right now, he just wanted you in his arms. It had been awhile since the Ghost Face and you had crossed paths. Because of this, he made sure to treat each time like it was your last

“You know she was lying, right? I’d never throw a rock at you.” You pouted

The Ghost Face chuckled again, bringing a gloved hand up to remove his mask

“I know, baby.” He grinned

His lips pressed against yours firmly. His eyes were blissfully shut as he pulled you impossibly close

“Mmm, Danny.” You squeaked against him

The Ghost Face pulled away to stare at your innocent features. His dead heart felt an unfamiliar warmth as you smiled sweetly at him

He would then leave to you be, in search of Feng instead. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she found the Ghost Face chasing after her instead of you. Had her ‘genius’ plan not worked?

Oni

*THWACK*

You looked on in horror after Yui threw a rock at your poor Oni’s masked face. He had quite the thick covering in that area but you could tell it still hurt him. He wasn’t looking at you two when it happened. He was distracted with Adam, slicing into the man’s back with his katana. That was when Yui struck. While she did it to help Adam, that didn’t apply to you. When the Oni whipped around to glare at her, he sneered behind his mask when she pointed at you

“They did it.” Yui deadpanned

Yui took off, with Adam limping after her. You couldn’t believe the betrayal. You thought that the Oni would get mad, and maybe even harm you. But he honestly seemed more mad at Yui than yourself

“It wasn’t me! She was lying. I would never!”

The Oni trudged over to your cowering form. You flinched when a massive hand came up over your head. Your tense muscles relaxed as it set on top of your hair with an overwhelming amount of gentleness

“I know.” He cooed in Japanese

The Oni pet your hair. You were very surprised he hadn’t gone crazy with fury yet

“Sorry she was a meanie, Kazan.” You frowned

He hummed in reply, a deep rumbling noise that brewed within his broad chest.

Kazan absolutely adored you. Which was why he had to love and leave you, furiously going after Yui. How dared she blame you for something she did? And to think she’d get away with it?

The Oni gave your cheek one last caress before hunting down that girl. Like you, this was going to be sweet. The sounds of Yui’s screams were going to sound all the more satisfying because they were just for you

Trickster

The Trickster cursed in Korean when a small rock bounced off the back of his head. He whirled around to spot you and Claudette in the tall grass. Claudette immediately pointed at you, silently telling him you did it. But alas, she was only framing you for her own crime

The Trickster laughed at her meanly, knowing better. As if his perfect songbird would hurt him like that. He yoinked a colourful blade from his yellow coat, skilfully throwing it Claudette’s way. It struck her shoulder, and you leapt back in surprise. You and the girl stared at the Trickster in disbelief

“I said they did it!” Claudette gasped in pain

The Trickster still didn’t listen, only pinning her down with more and more of his blades. He only stopped when you said so.

That made him sigh, begrudgingly letting Claudette limp away, only to catch up with her later. His glowing gaze set on you now, taking in your cute face

“I promise it wasn’t me.” You blurted out

The Trickster smirked, playfully rolling his eyes. “I know, babe. It’s okay.” He moved towards you

You threw your arms around his neck and nuzzled into it with a giggle. He hugged you tight, his nose buried in your hair. You glanced up and gently traced your fingers over his temple

“Are you okay? She didn’t hurt you too bad, did she?” You asked

The Trickster pressed a tender kiss to your flushed cheek

“Don’t worry about me, babe.”

He soon trotted off, in searches of Claudette again. He left you all smitten and flustered, making sure you wouldn’t try to intervene. You were just so kind like that. Though she threw you under the bus, the Trickster knew that you would still and try save her

He couldn’t help but admire that

Mastermind

“Are you trying to make me angry?”

Albert Wesker chased after Dwight after he had pegged a rock at him when he wasn’t looking. Though in a fit of panic, Dwight shoved you in the way

“It wasn’t me. It was them!”

The Mastermind nearly bouldered you over as you were thrown in his road. He halted to a stop, just skidded in front of you. Your face was covered by your hands as you cowered before him. Albert sighed, and placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. Your head whipped up to meet his catlike eyes

“It’s alright, darling.”

Tears pricked your eyes, saddened that Dwight and abandoned you. But at the same time, you knew he was just scared

“Albee, it wasn’t me. I promise it wasn’t.” You whimpered

The Mastermind immediately snaked his arms around you. You sniffled into his chest and held on tight

“I know, sweetheart. I didn’t think it was you for a second. It doesn’t matter, my dear. I’m fine.”

He petted your head that was nestled against him. You hadn’t seem Wesker in awhile, and missed his touch. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he felt the same way

This was fine. Once the Mastermind was done with you, then he would hunt down Dwight. Uh-huh, sure… just a little longer holding you then he’d get straight to work…

Albert couldn’t let you go. Your warmth and sweet words of praise made his stomach flutter. He had never met someone quite like you

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #ghost face x reader #ghost face #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #oni x reader #dbd oni x reader #dbd oni #trickster x reader #trickster #kazan yamaoka #kazan yamaoka x reader #ji woon hak #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #slasher x reader #dbd mastermind #dbd trickster #rab.reads

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.3k] prompt: "you can be rough, I can take it." mean steve but sweet steve, just smut.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the way Steve was kissing you. Definitely not. It was soft and sweet, the solid weight of him pushing you down onto the sheets and pillow in his unmade bed. His hand was gentle on your waist, fingertips pushing up your shirt so he could smooth his palm over your ribs.

He let you tug at his hair a little, encouraged it really, with soft moans and sighs, tongue licking into you, nose pressed to your cheek as he kissed you until you couldn’t breathe properly. It was perfect. Steve was perfect. 

You just wanted something different that night. 

So you nipped at Steve’s bottom lip, pushed your thumb to the corner of his mouth and broke away panting, chest heaving against his own as you cradled his jaw in your palm. He pulled back a little, leaned up on his elbows to hover over you and Christ, he was all messy hair and dark, blown out eyes, lips glossy from you. 

It fucking ached, how pretty he was. 

“Y’okay, baby?” His voice was rough, scratchy and it made you squeeze your thighs together. “Wanna stop?”

You shook your head quickly, uncaring how desperate you seemed. You were. You were impatient, greedy, feeling like you needed the boy more than you ever had before. You and Steve were still new, in the physical sense at least. You’d had sex, more times than you could count now, in his bed, your bed, his car, on his desk, your shower when your parents left on holiday, the sunlounger in his backyard. 

Every time was perfect. He could make you laugh, crack stupid jokes, kiss you stupid and make you come apart every time. Steve was perfect. 

Tonight? Tonight you just wanted to push it a little. 

“No, no, god no,” you told him, voice high and breathy. “I just- fuck, I just-”

Steve kissed your cheek, trailed his lips to the corner of your mouth and huffed out a laugh, not unkindly, just amused. “What do you want? Hmm?”

You grinned, thigh bare and grazing over the denim jeans at his hips as your skirt fell away, gathering above your underwear. Steve rocked down into you, pressing into the wet patch on cotton and you keened, brows drawn together and your mouth fell open. 

“What makes you think I want something?”

That really made him laugh, ‘cause your lashes were fluttering and your eyes were all doe like and he leaned into you, head tilted to let you kiss at his neck. His eyes fell closed, the muscle in his jaw clenching at the way you were sucking on his throat. 

“You always want somethin’,” Steve commented mildly, his tone still soft for you, fond like usual. “And I always give you it.”

You beamed, hands curling around his neck to pull him back to you, coaxing him to settle between your legs, in the cradle of your thighs and when you kissed him, it was with more heat than before. It was a kiss full of wanting, need, and it left Steve groaning.  

“You do?” You teased, mouth barely parting from his, lips brushing against his, breathing out to him, breathing him in. 

“I’d give you anything you wanted.”

There it was, that sweetness, that softness that made your chest hurt, your knees weak. You hummed, so utterly happy beneath the boy. 

“Yeah?” You asked, a whisper.

“Fuck, yeah,” Steve answered, lips at the shell of your ear, trailing heat down your jaw, across your throat. His nails were blunt against your waist, dipping into the slope of your sides, pulling at the waistband of your skirt. “Tell me.”

Your hands were in the hair at the nape of his neck when you next spoke, twisting into the curls there, the softer strands behind his ears. You licked your lips, nervous, heat on your cheeks that Steve surely noticed because he kissed each one before nudging your nose with his, grinning. 

“Want you to be a little mean to me, Steve.”

You murmured it, voice low and husky, too shy to say it any louder, in case it somehow backfired. Not that it would’ve, how could it? Like Steve said, he’d give you anything he wanted. 

And by the look on his face at your words, he didn’t seem to mind keeping true to that promise.

He pulled back from you again, just a little, just enough to look down at you with eyes darker than before, jaw slack, gaze hungry and you could’ve sworn you heard a groan rumble from his chest. He licked his lips, searched your face for something that told him you were joking, but when he found none, he brushed your hair from your eyes and raised his brows. 

“Yeah?” Something in his voice had turned warmer, hotter, lips curling into a smirk you’d seen before, just not in bed. “Mean how, sweetheart?”

You let out a huff of breath, squirming, because you hadn’t really thought it all through and Steve was still settled between your legs, your rucked up skirt and he was impossibly hard against you. You glanced up at him, eyes wide, hands curling in the front of his shirt, crushing the cotton. 

Steve was still grinning, dimple showing, all teeth. His voice was honey when he said, “c’mon now, you gotta tell me. You want me to get a little rough with you, baby? Is that it?”

He pushed himself down into you, had you mewling, your own hips canting up to meet his, desperate for more friction. You nodded, chest warm, face flushed, eyes already glazing over at the suggestion. 

But Steve tutted, tsked and rocked back again, just out of your reach. He soothed a hand over your jaw, fingers splayed over your cheek and his thumb on your bottom lip. 

“Can’t do that if my shy girl can’t even tell me, can I?” He was teasing, voice soft and a little mocking and your body felt fucking electric, the sudden shift in the boy making you dizzy. This is what you wanted. Fuck, this is what you needed.

“Can't do that to you, baby, you’re too soft,” he pushed at your lips, dragged at the curve of your bottom one, pressed the pad of his thumb to it a little meanly and groaned. “Too sweet, aren’t you?”

You were whining, hands grabbing greedy at Steve’s hips, pulling back down flush against you just so you could feel him. You jutted your chin up at him, lips pursed under his thumb, asking for a kiss. 

He chuckled, hand holding your chin so he could tilt your head the way he wanted and you felt the brush of his nose over your own. Once, twice, three times. “See? Too sweet. You gotta talk to me. What do you want?”

“A kiss,” you told him, voice wrecked, eyes dark, pupils blown. You were a mess, wriggling, squirming, hands grabbing, hair wild, lips parted. “Please.”

Steve indulged you, leaning down slow, hand covering most of your jaw and cheek, kissing you deep and gentle. He licked into you, mint and lemonade, a fizz that made your stomach flip and then he was pulling away, smiling. 

“Told you,” another smile, saccharine sweet. “I’ll give you anything you want, pretty girl, you just gotta ask.”

“You can be rough,” you whispered, hands pushing up the sides of Steve’s shirt, nails making half moon marks down the slope of his waist. You fingered the elastic of his boxers, lashes fluttering. “I can take it, I swear.”

“Oh baby” Steve cooed, a lone finger tracing the line of your cupid's bow, trailing over your bottom lip until it jutted out and fell back into place with a soft pop. “Aren’t you the fucking cutest?”

There was something in his tone that had you nodding, more agreeable than you’d ever been and there was a desperation to please, to do as you were told. Your toes were curling, knees pressed to Steve’s sides, feet digging into the mattress in a bid to close what little space was left between you both. 

“Gonna be good for me?” Steve asked, his voice still gentle, fond. He kissed you, once, twice, lips soft and slanting over your own before he pulled back, waiting. You nodded again. “Atta girl.”

And then he was off of you, beckoning you to join him as he kneeled back onto his feet on the bed, hands catching your waist to steady you. He smoothed back your hair, rubbed a thumb affectionately over your cheek and he made sure you were looking at him when he told you, “if you wanna stop, tell me, okay?”

Once again, you nodded, bottom lip tucked between your teeth for what was about to come. 

He tsked, patted at your hip. “Wanna hear it, baby.”

“I’ll tell you, promise.”

“Good girl.”

That was it, you’d died. You were sure of it. 

And then, “bend over for me, sweetheart.”

You swayed on the bed, still on your knees, Steve’s hands letting go of your sides and your mouth open in surprise. You looked at your boyfriend, a question in your eyes, on the tip of your tongue but he simply prised your hands from where they were still clutching his shirt and nodded to the bed behind you. 

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

That’s what made you move, turning on the mattress, hands pushed to the plush of Steve’s pillows, knees pressed to the sheets, your skirt riding higher up the backs of your thighs. 

But then the boy’s wide palm was coaxing at the small of your back, flirting with the strip of bare skin between your skirt and your top, pushing you forward still until you were resting on your elbows. 

Your back was arched in the prettiest way, the hem of your skirt barely covering you and you were sure you must’ve looked fucking scandalous. 

“Prettiest fucking sight,” Steve sighed, palming himself through the denim of his jeans. His hand swept down your spine, rolled over the bare expanse of the back of your thigh and he tapped at your bare foot. “Spread your legs a little, baby. There’s a girl.”

Your face was burning in the best way, pushed to the pillow beneath you, your cheek squished as you tried to look back at the boy, to watch what he was doing. Steve’s hand was pushing at your skirt, flipping the black fabric up and over the curve of your ass in one smooth movement. Soft yellow cotton and lace greeted him, a pretty shade of buttercup that Steve once told you you suited. 

He hummed, appreciative, eyes roaming over you. His hand left your skin for just a second, long enough to make you whine in protest and then it was back on you with a quick, sharp smack, right across your ass. It didn’t hurt, not really, it made your skin sting for a second before a rosy warmth bloomed across it and you gasped. 

There was no pain, no fear, just a really fucking pretty look on Steve’s face and a sharper edge to his smile. 

It’s exactly what you wanted. 

“Yeah?” 

You knew what he was asking. The boy was checking in, making sure you were okay, that this was okay. His eyes were on you, honey and gold, softening for just a second. 

You bit down on your lip, fisted the comforter underneath you and nodded. “M’good.”

And then he was moving into the space between your calves, knees nudging at your own to spread them further still, his hands on your ass, palming at you, spreading you a little obscenely until the cotton of your underwear was pulled taught against you and it was everything you needed and not nearly enough all at once. 

You weren’t sure you remembered how to breathe. 

“Steve,” you whimpered, fucking whimpered and the sound made him smile and tap at your ass all at once. His hand came down smooth on you again, enough to make you squeak, to rock back against him. 

“Aww, s’wrong?” He cooed, plush flesh squeezed in his hands and he let you grind against the front of his jeans, eyes dark and lips parted as he stared down at the sight of your soaked underwear pushing desperately at the seam of his zip. “You want something, baby?”

“Yes,” it came out in a hiss, your lips only slightly muffled by the way your face was still pressed to the sheets and you moaned when you felt Steve’s fingers slid under the lace edge of your underwear, traced along the soft line where your thigh met your cunt and he stroked along your folds with the tip of his index finger. 

You were soaked, warm and slick and Steve groaned at the feel, trying his damn hardest to not sink three fingers inside of you the way he was dying to. He pulled away and let you whine, let the elastic of the lace snap back against your already reddening skin. 

He watched the way you looked at him over your shoulder, hair messy, lips parted, eyes wide. So he sucked his finger into his mouth instead, dragged the pad of it over his tongue and let it go with a dirty pop. 

“Told you already, didn’t I?” Steve leaned forward, pushed a thumb to the wet spot between your legs until the cotton was pressed even tighter to your folds and he could see every line of you. “If you want something, you gotta ask. S’real easy, baby.”

“Need you to touch me,” you asked, blurting out the words too easily, your normal subdued demeanour in bed vanishing with every smack Steve reddened your ass with. “Fuck, like, badly.”

Steve cooed, patronising little sounds falling from his lips and they shouldn’t have been hot, it shouldn’t have made your toes curl, it shouldn’t have been the coil in your stomach curl a little tighter. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve pushed his thumb to you a little firmer, enough to sink between your folds, wet cotton and lace the only thing separating him from you. The pad of it found your clit, pushed against it until it pulsed and then he stopped, waiting. “I am touching you.”

You squirmed, cried out when you pushed back against his hand and Steve took it away, palm back on your ass to push and snap at the edges of your underwear. 

“C’mon baby, you gotta give me better than that.”

You turned your face into the pillow, whining, the colours behind your closed eyes going blurry and fuzzy, stars dancing in the dark. 

Steve just laughed, not all that mean, soft enough that you didn’t pull away from him when he tucked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, tugged at them and then let them slip down your legs. 

“If you want me to get a little mean for you, you’re gonna have to get a little dirty for me.” He grabbed at your ass again, made you squirm with a little embarrassment when you felt yourself spread open under his gaze. Steve let out a groan, wrecked and ruined at the sight of you. “C’mon, be good for me, let me hear you.”

You weren’t sure when the day had turned to evening, the last slices of the sun sliding through the gaps in Steve’s blinds, the bedroom lit up gold. It turned you the same colour, the boy shades of peach, pink and bronze, and god the pair of you must’ve been a dirty, pretty fucking sight. 

“I want your fingers,” it was awful, the way you were already panting, back arched, skirt tucked up over your hips, ass pushed out to the boy in desperate display. “Please Steve, your fingers, want your fingers.”

Steve tapped out a rhythm with them on the back of your thigh, a gentle slid over your upper leg and he hummed. He grabbed at your hips, leaned over you until his lips were at your ear and the hard outline of his dick settled against your ass.   

“Where?”

Your eyes were glassy, desperation and want clawing at you hotly, the prick of tears at your lash line and Steve only pouted at the sight, murmuring, “oh my girl,” as he kissed your cheek. 

“Inside me,” you gasped, the last of your words choking off in a moan as he brought his hand to your lips, two fingers brushing over your mouth and he tapped nicely at them, waiting. 

“Open.”

You did as you were told, humming around the thick of his knuckles and your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his digits pressing against your tongue, getting wetter as you sucked. 

Steve waited until you were wriggling back against him to slip them away from your lips, the pads of his fingers pulling gently at your folds, spreading you a little. You could hear how wet you were, the lewd sounds filling the room and Steve was swearing, looking like he was about to lose his cool at the feel of you. 

“How many, hmm? How many d’you want, pretty girl?”

You pushed your face from Steve’s pillow, chest heaving, fingers curling around the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself. His fingers were teasing you, grazing up and down the seam of your cunt without dipping past your folds. You whined, got another tap to the curve of your ass in response. 

“Two, shit, baby, two please.”

He gave you one.  

“Baby,” you groaned a little pathetically, his thick finger doing more for you than your own would but it still wasn’t enough, not for the way you were feeling right now. 

“So greedy,” Steve noted, his voice mild. “You think you can take two?”

You nodded, face back in the sheets, lips parted, jaw slack and you keened high when Steve slide another digit inside of you, two fingers fucking into you slow and deep. 

“Look at that,” Steve soothed, voice like candy, “aren’t you just the prettiest thing? So sweet, baby, pretty cunt taking everything I give her, huh?“

Another nod, hair a mess against the bedding, thighs shaking a little at the effort of keeping yourself up. 

Steve tsked and you just knew he was fucking grinning from where he was still kneeling behind you. His free hand smoothed over the rosy skin at your ass, hands gentle with you before he trailed it up to grab at your skirt. He used the material to hold onto you, to keep you from fucking yourself back onto him. 

“What about three?” 

You wailed, gone, throat dry from the way you were panting because the stretch of Steve’s fingers was delicious, but he was yet to touch your clit and you were hanging on the edge of complete desperation. 

“Steve,” you cried out, turning back to look at him, cheek pressed to the mattress, eyes glassy. It was all too much and not enough. “Baby, baby-”

“Hey, hey, shhh,” Steve whispered, moving to lean back over you, chest pressed to your back, his fingers moving inside you, rubbing up and down. “Y’alright? Still with me?”

His movements stilled, just for a second, and then you were whimpering again, throwing your ass back into his hips, fingers deeper than before and you were nodding furiously. 

“Tell me,” he murmured, fingers sliding in and out of you, a wet slick against your thighs. He kissed at what he could reach, the high of your cheekbone, your temple, your jaw. “Need to hear you, baby.”

“M’still with you,” you whispered, voice shot, eyes drooping prettily. “So good, s’good, Stevie. Wanna come.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” the boy cooed. “You’re all pent up, huh? Wanna come already? Can I make you come? You gonna let me make you feel good?”

Steve wasn’t usually quiet in bed, not by any stretch of the imagination. Your boy always liked to run his mouth, murmuring pretty things into your ear, voice all lovely, moaning and groaning for you. 

But this? This? This was something else. 

His words made your stomach feel tight, your skin warm, your cunt fluttering around his fingers every time he called you something sweet, each ‘baby’, making your head swim. 

“Yeah, god, yes, Steve, need it, need you.” 

You were a mess, hips jerking when Steve finally slid his other hand between your legs too, fingers flat against your clit as he rubbed in wide circles, almost lazy against the way he was fucking two - no, fucking hell, three - fingers into you. 

“Shitshitshit.”

“Not gonna make you beg, m’not that mean baby,” Steve smiled, sticky sweet, lips pressed to your shoulder, muted through the shirt you were still wearing. “Just need to hear you ask for it real nice.”

The boy was the devil. 

“Can I come?” You gasped out, “please Stevie, can I come, need to come, gonna come fuck-”

“Yeah,” Steve groaned, knuckles pressing into the curve of your ass as he kept up his momentum, hard enough that you knew there’d be bruises by morning. “Christ, yeah, baby, you can come. Come for me, huh? Come on my fingers.”

You did just that, body a vice grip around him, face smushed to Steve’s pillow, breathing him in even as he knelt behind you. He grabbed at your hip, coaxed you through your high, murmuring soft nonsense, sweet words that only made you clench down on him tighter. 

Your eyes were closed, but you still saw stars. 

You whined when he slipped his fingers from you, hushing you with soft touches, hands dancing along your spine and petting at your hip. You let the boy tug gently at your shoulders, lifting you from where you were still pressed into his bed. 

“C’mere, baby, got you,” Steve whispered, a proud smile on his face when he was the way your eyes were glazed over, wet at the lash line, cheeks rosy. 

He pulled you into him, manhandling you back onto the bed, this time against his chest and between his legs as he sat you both against the headboard. You caught your breath, Steve’s lips on your neck, you chin, your jaw and then he was pulling your shirt from you, one hand sliding around your back to rid you of your bra. 

You were left in your skirt, stil hitched too high, played across the tops of your thighs and Steve huffed, looking down at where you were lazy against him. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he told you and his voice had dropped that teasing tone. He sounded so sincere it hurt and you were suddenly back to being desperate as you reached up for his neck, hands curled into his hair as you pulled him down to meet you. 

He kissed you like he’d just fucked you, took the control from you straight away, a hand on your face, thumb under your chin to tilt your head the way he wanted it. He licked into you all pretty, lips soft, tongue softer, tasting like summer and Steve and sex and Jesus fucking Christ-

“Need you,” you breathed against him, moaning into his kiss, eyes fluttering shut at every brush of his finger against your nipples. Strong palms cupped at your tits, rolled them in his hand, toeing the line of being a little too rough. 

You’d asked for mean, had you not?

It’s why you shouldn’t have been all that surprised that his hand grabbed your wrist when you reached for the hard outline of his dick through his jeans, nor when he pinned it behind your back, gripping your chin a little tighter to make you look at him. 

He kissed your lips sweetly, a stark contrast to the hold he had on you and everything at once made you rub your thighs together, still soaked and sticky from how hard he’d just made you come. 

“Baby, if you touch me right now,” he whispered against your lips, nose rubbing against the tip of your own fondly, “I’ll make a goddamn mess of myself.”

It was a chore to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head, bottom lip jutting out in a show or petulance, your hands greedy and wanting to feel the thick length of him. But Steve just nipped at it, held your hand a little tighter by the small of your back and he grinned when he saw your eyes darken at it. 

“You’re just a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” 

Another whimper from your lips, and you only got louder when Steve guided you to kneel between his spread legs. He was still fully clothed and the entire situation made your head spin. 

He let go of your hand but you made no move to touch him, so you curled your fingers around the hem of your skirt instead and Steve groaned as he watched you lift at it, the inside of your thighs wet and shiny with everything he’d coaxed from you. 

“You look like you’d taste real fuckin’ sweet though,” he murmured and god, his eyes were as blown out as your own, honey turning to burnt sugar, lids drooping, jaw slack as he took in the sight of you. 

“Steve, please,” you were pawing at him, shuffling over the sheets to get closer, hands smoothing up the front of his T-shirt to cling at his shoulders. You sniffed, watery, and god, you actually thought you might cry at how badly you wanted him. “Please.”

“What d’you want?” Steve let you clamber into him lap, bone lazy from coming so hard, the rough of his jeans almost sore against your smacked ass, the slick of wet between your legs. He smoothed back your hair, thumbed gently over your lashes to gather the beginnings of your frustrated tears. “What’s my girl want, huh?”

“You,” you told the boy, lips on him, wherever you could reach. You pressed a kiss to his jawline, lips soft and a little messy, still feeling off tilted from the way he’d made you feel. “Want you.���

Steve’s palm connected with your bare ass again, a little softer than before but he squeezed at you afterwards, coaxed you to grind down on the ridge of his zipper, cunt pushed to the denim of his jeans. 

“Gotta do better than that, baby.”

PART TWO: A LITTLE SWEET FOR ME

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things fic

[odinsonslut]

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n:  I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm. 

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated. 

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued. 

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself. 

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

-

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention. 

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms 

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

-

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.  

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through 

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond. 

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise  I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.” 

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand. 

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

#fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter series #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasely smut #fred weasley smut #sirius black #remus lupin #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy smut #hogwarts au #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts game #ron weasly x reader #hermione x reader #dramione #harry x draco #draco x hermione #wolfstar #sirius x remus #james potter

[dreamingcloudie]

im sorry for immediately jumping into requests but i see dottore content and i immediately go gdusabjnkdsa

HI HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY <33 IMMA BINGE READ THROUGH YOUR STUFF BUT LEMME JUST DROP THIS RQ

reader, feeling a bit bored and lonely, gathered a bunch of segments and asked if they could just cuddle with them OF COURSE they'd agree... prime comes back from a mission to see the tasks he'd assign them half done but before he could get too angry, sees you all snuggled up in a pile with the most relaxed expression on your face he'd seen in a while.......... he tells the segments to leave and hugs you himself instead (jealous perhaps? HHEHEHE)

HAVE A GREAT DAY, FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS NO PRESSUVE <3 !!

❛❛ In My (Our) Arms You Go ❜❜

✎ ❛❛ Dog pile!— Oof! ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore (& segments) x GN!Reader

Genre/Format: Fluff (oneshot)

wc: ~1.1k

Notes: Back to our regularly scheduled fluff :D This is so cute istg 😫✋️✋️Dottore and his skrunkly segments are just ANAKSHDIEJEFIS 💕💕💕 I'm sorry this is short! ^^;

You sighed as you threw your head backwards and stared at the ceiling, the pencil that you were holding dropped onto the desk.

"I give up." You groaned into your hands.

It has only been fifteen minutes since you started to sketch random objects in the room. You thought having your mind run wild with imaginations by adding some twists to them would be the cure to your boredom. 

But it clearly backfired, it required too much thinking.

If anything, it made you feel even more bored than before, if that was even possible.

Heck, you even tried to watch the raindrops sliding down the window pane, pretending that they were racing against each other! 

No matter how much effort you put into distracting your bored out mind, you were too occupied with thoughts of your lover. 

A week ago, the Tsrista had sent out an order to Dottore, there was a mission that required his assistance in the far lands of Sumeru. And since this was an order from the Cryo Archon herself, there was no way he could decline even if he wanted to. 

So reluctantly, you had to let him go for you didn't even know how long. 

Without his goofy laughs and your daily dose of kisses, you felt lonely…

Especially with how your work schedule has been pretty hectic lately. Just as you thought you could have some peaceful moments with Dottore, he had to leave.

What kind of cruel joke was this?

What to do now… You thought as you closed your eyes.

Reading… Cooking... Beating Delta's ass up—

Wait, what?

Where did that come from? 

Reopening your eyes again, you focused on your hearing and could make out faint footsteps walking past your room along with a grumpy voice.

"I can't believe Delta messed all of this up! More work for me, ugh."

So it was a segment.

The segments…

You gasped a bit when a sudden idea came to mind. 

How fun would it be if you cuddled all of them at once?

You were getting a little giddy about your genius idea but then a realization made you doubt your plan.

They are probably busy though… You let out a huff.

Before Dottore left, he had given out a task for each of them to complete. He expected them to finish everything he asked of them by the time he returned.

But a fifteen minute break for them wouldn't hurt, right? You reasoned.

---

As you slammed the laboratory doors open, you slightly cringed at the loud noise it made when it hit the wall, startling some of the segments.

"(Y/n), my dear. You could've just knocked next time," Omega lightly scolded you.

Smiling at him sheepishly, you lightly scratched your neck.

"Haha, sorry."

He shook his head, chuckling at how adorable you were.

"Well, what brings you here?"

Right. 

"So I was thinking… if we could all cuddle together?" You asked. 

Your voice wasn't loud enough to reach the other segments, but they could still make out the words "we" and "cuddle". All of them instantly dropped what they were doing and surrounded you.

Getting affection from their darling? And with no Prime around? Who would pass up such a great offer?

"Are we gonna cuddle?!"

"Can we really?"

"Cuddling? I wanna join!"

Well, that was a lot easier than you thought it'd be. 

---

Oh, how you loved their happy little faces as they trailed behind you, with you leading them to your room.

The moment you got into your room, you laid down onto your bed and sprawled your limbs out, inviting them to come join you.

One by one, each of them plopped themselves down onto the bed with you. 

Some of them held onto your arms while some intertwined their legs with yours, and a head was laid against your torso.

Though, even with this king-sized bed, it could barely fit all of them. 

Theta moved around a little to find a comfortable position when he accidentally kicked someone.

"Ow! Who kicked me?!" Delta yelped.

"Deserved, you gave me more work to do by spilling the serum everywhere!"

"Oh my— Whoever has their feet near my face, please move. It smells of rotten flesh." Omega covered his nose from… whoever feet that was.

Well, this was definitely a bit hard to get used to with how much weight was laying on top of you. 

You weren't complaining though, the weather was a bit colder than usual and they made such a great heat source.

Their bickerings died down and silence soon took over the room, only to be occasionally broken with some light snores and the soft sounds of rain hitting the window.

Ah, life was good.

---

After a week of being away from the comfort of the palace, he was finally back from the mission and he felt like he would pass out any moment.

The mission he came back from was hell even though it was a success in the end. Nonetheless, he was now back and he had missed you dearly.

Though before going to your room, he was looking forward to seeing how his personal project was coming along. He had calculated that by the time he came back, it would've been completed by his segments.

However, all he saw was an empty lab. What's even stranger was that the work was half-done.

Where did they go? They wouldn't abandon their work like this unless it was an emergency…

Dottore turned back and walked to your room, afraid that something might have happened.

The sight he was greeted with made his blood boil. His segments were slacking off, hugging you as they slept. But when he got closer and took a glance at you, he noticed how peaceful you looked, and it's been a long time since he had seen you this relaxed.

You were complaining about how your work was stressing you out and you weren't able to get some proper rest.

Well, he supposed he'd let his segments off the hook this time for helping you to relax.

Though, his chest tightened at the realization that he wasn't the one who was holding you.

It was his turn now.

He nudged one of the segments awake, and soon the others began to wake up as well at the movement. Miraculously, you were still sound asleep.

All of them stiffened at the sight of Prime glaring at them, oh boy, they could already hear the mouthful lecture they'd get later.

"All of you get back to work, now."

The segments scurried to get out of the room, a little down that they had to leave you so soon.

Changing out of his work clothes and taking off his mask, he slowly got into the spot beside you. Chuckling lightly when his thumb cleaned the drool that left your mouth.

His arm wrapped around you, sighing in content that he finally got to hold you again.

All to himself.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x yn #dottore #genshin impact #dottore x reader #dottore x y/n #dottore x you #genshin dottore #il dottore #fatui #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers

[monicahar]

I LOVE YOU GAME

a small game of where one says i love you, and whoever blushes or laughs loses.

characters; xiao, kazuha, ayato, itto, scaramouche, childe, albedo, thoma

It was just a joke when it left your friend's lips, saying that it would be interesting to see people's reactions to being told those three words, whether they meant it or not.

They weren't expecting you to go along with it, but then...

—without a hitch in your breath, straightening your back as you grab their hands within yours, all while looking at them right in the eyes,

"I love you."

—you confidently say.

Now then, who will falter in this so-called game?

XIAO — the bashful

With the way you look at him tenderly while you say those words...it wouldn't be a surprise when he immediately averts his eyes away from you and covers his reddening ears—a pathetic way to deny defeat. The fact that he actually holds feelings for you won't help in this situation either. But since you're only friends, you simply laugh it off, teasing him a little bit before dropping the game entirely. You thought it made him uncomfortable but...oh well, you've always been quite the oblivious one after all. Xiao scowls to himself as he thinks about your stupidness in the name of love.

KAZUHA — the smiley face

This guys is almost always smiling, what made you think he'd actually react to what you say? Kazuha can hear whether words are straight from heart or not, so when you say "I love you" without meaning it romantically, he knows and just goes :) . That's why it's easy for him to keep his composure, even if he's a little hurt. You whine a little at his lack of reaction, calling him boring and annoying. Imagine your surprise when he suddenly says, "I love you too". You burst out in surprise and confusion while he simply smirks, saying that it would be unfair if he's the only one who has to be the receiver. The red tint in your cheeks keeps him satisfied.

AYATO — the teaser

Mf asks you to repeat it, saying that he couldn't hear it. "I know." he proudly smirks when you do repeat it. An irk makes its way to your face, your features scrunching in annoyance as you slap his shoulder lightly, growing tired of his bully of a self. Now when it's his turn to say it, he immediately refuses to. You gawk in betrayal, saying he's being unfair, but he suddenly leans into your ear, his breath feeling warm over your shoulder. "I don't like exposing myself for the sake of some game." His words leaves you with even more questions. He pulls away with a straight face, examining you as you ask him what he meant; he simply smiles and slurps his boba in response.

ITTO — the panic

Big himbo guy with also a big personality. Do you expect him to take your words calmly? I'd be damned if you say yes. "I- KABZJSHEJWJS??!!" He screams incoherents as his face goes bright red, attempting to run away before you tug him back down in front of you, teasing him that the one and only Aratakki Itto can't handle such words? He stutters as he feels you step down his pride, immediately crossing his arms and breathing in and out to calm his erratic nerves. He tries to take revenge by saying it back, but it immediately backfires when he stutters while doing so. You snort at his attempts of letting out those words, an undying heat crawling up his neck with how embarrassing the whole ordeal is.

SCARAMOUCHE — the no reaction

You could literally crawl onto his lap and whisper said words without him breaking composure at all, man's got game. He just scowls and pushes you off his lap while muttering how weird you are, then immediately standing up to leave. You fear that you have made him uncomfortable, and immediately went after him to apologise—needless to say...he really DOESN'T want you to follow him, so he just kinda...ignores you, or more practically...avoids you. Who knows, maybe the game did have an effect on the little guy, and he's just trying to stay away from you to try and secure the last bits of composure he has. But hey, it's just a speculation, right?

CHILDE — the laughter(loser)

No no, don't get him wrong. He's not making fun of you, nor does he plan to. He's simply trying to suppress his emotions by laughing obnoxiously—a way to convince himself that it's just a joke and that you aren't saying it seriously. It's just a game, he tells himself to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Of course and obliviously, you take this the wrong way and immediately kick him on his shin for being mean. He yelps and immediately goes to say sorry when you flare up in anger and embarrassment. Well...it's not really his fault since he doesn't know you're being sincere, but...he's so annoying, isn't he?!

ALBEDO — the quiet

"..." He just, stares at you. His perceptive eyes examining your posture, your tone, your breathing pattern and the way your eyes lightly dilated when you said those words. Coming down to a conclusion, he simply lets out a barely noticeable smirk as he continues his painting, watching you go slack and disappointed at his reaction. You were about to get up and leave the suffocating atmosphere created by his silence, but that is...until he perks up, "Are you sure this is just a game and not some ingenious way to tell me you hold feelings for me to know how I'd react?", with the way you stutter back in shock at his revelation, he already knows the answer.

THOMA — the shy

10/10, definitely has the cutest reaction. He just goes "Ahh..." while his face goes bright red, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while he struggles to form words. With how he looks, it's impossible to NOT bully him a little more, so you did—sneaking up behind him to say "I love you" again, and he goes redder, if it's even possible. "Y-you shouldn't say things you don't mean...!" He says, trying to push you since you were too close for his mental being to handle. All is well, until you look at him straight in the eyes, all hints of joking and teasing dropping when you genuinely smile at him, "I love you, Thoma." if you can't say things you don't mean, then you'll simply just mean it this time.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin drabbles #kazuha x reader #genshin impact headcanons #thoma x reader #xiao x reader #ayato x reader #itto x reader #albedo x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #har❗fiction

[au-sonic-smackdown]

AU Sonic Smackdown - Round 4, Right Side

Words Hurt AU belongs to @oddogoblino

Infested AU belongs to @hejjhug

Learn more about them under the cut!

Words Hurt AU-

In this au, Earth is decaying, the planet slowly losing its ability to sustain life due to mankind’s lack of care to it. To try and survive, they attempted to move people to planet mobius as it held similar conditions as earth. The mobians at first welcomed them happily, happy to help those in need. Eventually, the humans began trying to repeat their old mistakes and began digging into mobius and setting up machines to harvest from it to try and save Earth. The planet didn’t handle this as well as earth once did, machines quickly backfiring and any mobians nearby during the incidents quickly falling ill. That’s how the infections started.

Sonic’s parents were one of the few first mobians infected, having lost them due to them going into the second form of the illness that’s caused from starvation. They’d been “quarantined” and left without food or an energy source for too long. He was only a toddler when this happened. He’s now part of Vanilla’s secret organization that helps infected mobians survive outside of the homes they’d been kicked out of due to fear. Sonic himself works as a secret delivery boy and tends to travel to make sure infected mobians have access to food and water and even just simple pleasantries like games and toys. He met Tails as a 4 yr old who’d been born from infected parents, taking care of him when they weren’t. Currently Sonic is 17 and Tails is 8.

Sonic is mostly his same ole usual self except he’s a lot less social. He doesn’t talk to anyone except for Tails, Vanilla, and sometimes Cream. He was naturally born with his super speed but keeps it hidden due to not wanting to be mistaken as an infected. He still has to fight Eggman as the mad doctor tries to manipulate both uninfected and infected mobians’ fears and resentment toward each other. He has a civilian disguise named Nicky so no one recognizes him as the superspeedy hero. He’s a bit more easily agitated but only because he doesn’t get enough sleep with his work.

Sonic’s right eye is always tearing up, not because he’s emotional but because of repeated exposure to infectious spores. The spores can only infect others if inhaled or through exposed open wounds. Hes naturally immune to the illness, but he doesn’t know that, and wouldn’t ever take chances on it. Whenever he gets injured, he disinfects the wound immediately and patches it up like others would in hopes to avoid spore-infection.

Infected mobians tend to live in abandoned spaces that their cities and towns assigned for them to live. Infected mobians feed off energy, whether that be electricity, emotions, powerful items, etc, but can also eat normal foods just fine. They need normal food to keep sane and prevent them from going into the second form that attacks anything with energy in it. Only the second form can infect others directly, making it the most dangerous and is an automatic kill-on-sight if seen. No one knows yet if you can change infected back to normal after they’ve transformed. Vanilla takes care of transformed infected when Sonic reports the incidents.

Mobians aren’t the only things infected, plant and wildlife have been mutated by the illness aswell. The symptoms of the infection is body mutations, a blue tongue, and increased hunger and thirst. Mobians born from infected parents can’t go into the second form but they become feral without food. Bites from hostile born-infected mobians are less likely to spread the infection but it isn’t impossible.

Infested AU-

Sonic, under the influence of a mysterious alien brain parasite, has become unpredictable and very, very dangerous. While all his powers remain the same, he now uses his speed to maim and kill anyone who moves. Sonic’s mental state has devolved to basic instinct, and, thanks to the parasite, he is in a near-constant state of feeling like a wild animal trapped in a corner. As a result, he will call upon impossible strength, reserved only for life-or-death scenarios. Pray you don’t catch his attention. You can’t outrun the fastest thing alive.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic au #sonic alternate universe #au sonic smackdown #round 4 #words hurt au #infested au

[inbarfink]

You know, it is kinda funny sometimes…. I joined the Adventure Time fandom around mid-way through Season 5. And from what I remember back then, most of the popular headcanons and theories around the origin of Ice King’s Magic Crown played a very similar tune. Some sort of Evil Ice Wizard creating a Magical Artifact that will allow him to live forever, or maybe just create a legacy of Evil Ice Wizards that will freeze the world. You know, kinda on the same vibe Farmworld Finn was going on about when he was under the Crown’s influence.

But then ‘Evergreen’ came out, and revealed not only that the Crown’s origins lay in a time period much more unique and strange than the Generic Medieval Fantasy a lot of people were imagining

But that the thing standing at the very core of the Magic Crown’s Curse was not just simple Villainous Hubris or an intentional desire to cause Icy Evil - instead the theme surrounding the Crown’s origin and its Curse is the Cycle of Parental Abuse.

Urgence Evergreen is not your run-of-the-mill Evil Wizard, and he wasn’t trying to create a Curse, but he was an Extremely Bad Dad. I mean, he didn’t consider himself a dad at all - but it’s clear that he raised Gunther since he hatched and the Dinosaur saw him as a parental figure. The only parental figure he had in his entire life. And through Gunther’s entire life, it’s clear Evergreen was emotionally distant and deprived him of the familial connection Gunther needed and he just constantly belittled and insulted him

And generally showed very little concern for both his emotional and physical well-being.

He didn’t even do the thing he was supposed to be doing with Gunther, which was teaching him Magic.

And yet Gunther still loved him like a father, and craved his admiration and approval, and wanted to be just like him.

And we see this Cycle of Abuse happen a bit more literally before we even get to the Crown. Gunther clearly loves his pet Nina a lot, but sometimes he channels his own frustrations with Evergreen at her - mirroring the way Evergreen treats him. Because this is all he ever knew.

And so, when the Crown granted Gunther his ‘deepest truest Wish’ and made him just like his beloved Master Evergreen, he became a perpetually-angry madman shouting nothing but ‘Gunther no!’.

Because for all of Evergreen’s pride in his role as the Ice Elemental and his aspirations of being the one to Save the World, this is what he always was in the eyes of his son. Add to it the fact that he never taught Gunther any Magic Basics that could help him control the Crown… Evergreen’s abuse of Gunther literally became a Curse.

One that has not only hurt Gunther and backfired on Evergreen… but keeps hurting any poor soul who comes across the Crown. Generations after Master Evergreen was left as barely even a distant memory, his abuse is still responsible for turning others into Hurt People Who Hurt Others.

And then the Crown ends up with Certified Dad Simon Petrikov.

And, now, Simon’s Good Dad Qualities did not, like, automatically negate the Crown’s influence. But.. he tried, he always tried. He knew what he needed to do to be the parental figure Marcy needed, and even when the Crown made it hard for him, he tried to fight through it and do his best.

And even when he totally lost himself to the Crown, he couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her.

But also.... it's important to remember that Marceline is not the only child-figure Simon raised while under the influence of the Magic Crown.

Ice King’s relationship with Gunter the Penguin was always kind of a fatherly thing - I mean, that is why he named him the same name he’s given to Marceline, the name that’s ingrained in the Crown as the name of the Evergreen-Clone’s son. But in earlier seasons in the show, it was very… fraught. Ice King would shift rapidly from being very caring, affectionate and sweet towards his lil’ Gunter

To very Evergreen-esque moments of callousness, neglectfulness and just… venting his own frustrations at his misery as unnecessary anger and cruelty towards the penguin.

Misery that is, of course, caused as a result of the Curse of the Magic Crown. The Curse that only came into being through Evergreen’s mistreatment of his own Gunther. The Curse that is also subconsciously pushing Ice King into being just like Evergreen. It torments Ice King and ‘teaches’ him to vent this torment out on others - but especially at his Gunter. Simon’s natural nurturing instincts were still trying to fight through it, the same way he did with Marceline, but it was not always enough. It's important to note that Ice King still always gave Gunter the Penguin more genuine care and affection than friggin’ Evergreen ever gave to Gunther the Dinosaur, but it's just as important to also note that the Curse still affected his treatment of Gunter in all kinds of harmful ways.

But as the show went on, and Ice King started to become more stable, and started to get the help and support he needed… he also became a better father to his Gunter. Like, without Betty’s interference, Simon was not able to overcome the Curse as a Dementia Metaphor, or the Curse as an Addiction Metaphor… But as for the Curse as a Cycle of Abuse Metaphor? Ice King/Simon, through his strong pre-Crown parental side, and through his love for Gunter and his genuine desire to be a better parent - he was breaking the magical Cycle of Abuse that Evergreen started through entirely mundane means.

He grew past his bad-tempered outburst and bouts of neglectfulness, and just became this extremely doting and loving and sweet father to Gunter.

And so, next time a Reset Crown lended into the clutches of a Gunther, ready to grant a new Wish, the Gunther once again chose to become just like his beloved father figure

but rather than an irrationally angry madman who cannot say anything but “Gunther, no!”… The very first words Ice Thing says are a reminder of how much he loves his Gunter. How much Gunter knows Simon loves him.

And he just seems like this sweet, harmless and happily content silly lil Ice Wizard. Maybe not the person Ice King always was, but the person he was always trying to be. I mean, he literally achieved Ice King’s original goal of being happily married to a princess.

But also just in a general sense, he’s happy and satisfied with his life and he’s not hurting anyone. And just like the original Curse is the legacy of Evergreen’s abuse, this is the legacy of Ice King/Simon’s attempts to do right by Gunter despite his struggles. He has broken the Curse and now it will never torment anyone ever again. Because, well, because Gunter seems to have fused with the Crown so it’s unlikely anyone else will ever be able to wear it. And if someone could, the ‘Curse’ that will be inflicted on them will not be nearly as destructive as Evergreen’s Curse.

(And let’s not forget that Simon’s Honest Attempt at Good Parenting didn’t just neutralize the Curse, it also neutralized a literal eldritch abomination. The Orgalorg Stuff isn’t directly related to the point I wanna make, but that’s also Pretty Cool)

Of course, we also know that although Ice Thing seems happy and content now, this status quo won’t last forever.

I mean, a thousand years in the future is a long time for things to change. But also, maybe it’s very Thematically Appropriate that the person who seems to be responsible for Ice Thing’s degradation is Gibbon.

Who is himself a result of a Whole Separate Series of Parental Issues.

#adventure time #at #atimers #adventure time analysis #ice king #urgence evergreen #gunther the dinosaur #gunter the penguin #ice thing #simon petrikov #marceline #gibbon adventure time #the ice king #ice king adventure time #at ice king #adventure time ice king #simon adventure time #simon at #at simon #adventure time simon #gunter adventure time #at gunter #adventure time gunter #orgalorg #marceline the vampire queen #marceline abadeer #marceline adventure time #at marceline #adventure time marceline #marceline at

[spotlightlowlife]

Charlie Hazbin done better before?

The pilot in the first minute has her, in her own words let us know she is a dreamer, she outlines her viewpoints and objective clearly, lets us know she's been trying, she gets dismissed and she ask if the problem was the world or her.

We see in visuals that she has various superiors to outclassed her.

It is obvious as to why she has to take her plans to her target audience which is the commoner and start from scratch, because what good is being born into power if you can't use it?

Again, we are just at the start.

Charlie went to the media with her pitch, we would see that she isn't well known to the public and those who know mwhi she is don't care. We see that she is unprepared, unprofessional and not assertive, she quickly becomes a laughing stock.

Charlie was excited to announce she had the famous Angeldust on side which she managed through bribery, she was happy to boast that he was in the way to being one of her success stories, which backfires in her face immediately as he just made the choice to participated in a turf war going on at that moment for no particular reason. This turf war which immediately followed the cleanse.

Nobody has anything to lose, they're use to what they have, plenty seem comfortable with and are able to gain from death and destruction, so why would trust in pushover Charlie's words that she 'beleives' they're better than they are and can move on up to sit with those who wipe them out like vermin? Because that's what everyone even wants?

It's understandable that she would get used for her hotel, the hotel itself becoming the solution and the problem.

Charlie's mother is too busy for her and her dad is disappointed in her decision making, the only words of advice we hear Charlie echo from him are to not take shit from any demon. We know she's a pushover. She's out on her own, trying and feeling increasingly defeated.

Vaggie is sensible, she tries to prevent Charlie humiliating herself and making dangerous decisions that effect everyone but Charlie is going to do as she pleases regardless, she knows this. This could prove a great example of their class and power divide, unlike those she mixes with, Charlie is hellborn powerful princess, bad reputation is hurtful and nothing more and she doesn't fear for her life.

A pampered princess from a functional supportive family who didn't have to endure earthly hardships and demise.

Now remember, the pilot may not be canon.

The first four minutes of episode one pit Charlie pretty low in establishing and fleshing out her parents, her charismatic mother who rose to power but is now a missing person a dad who was born into grandeur but faced many issues who is depressed somewhere, then Charlie came to be, she hasn't done any of the greatness expected of her for no other reason than she's their offspring and petty disrespect to her face is welcome from randos she hangs out with who haven't really been introduced and don't particularly like one another.

The groundwork is done, the unflattering advert has been released to nobody in particular and Charlie has her group of various acquaintances, there's no chemistry, the only one we can really class as a friend is Vaggie who speaks up for her in defense. Why are they all together? Anyone who watched the pilot knows.

Now she's out to save sinners and not just help any demon which the pilot left open for us, but just as her clientele narrows, we meet Adam, the ancestor of sinners, an unreasonable dudebro who outclasses her.

Most characters outclassed her on the attention front, her plot vanishes into one of many subplots immediately.

The Charlie we had was idealistic, caring, enthusiastic, driven and hardworking all in her own right, pushing her own thing, but she was far from oblivious to the challenges she faced which were getting everybody in the room to listen and guiding troubled folk to change their ways. Obstacles faced with rehab.

This Charlie, antichrist chosen one fulfilling her destiny, is just there, somewhere at back.

It may be early days technically but still, the pilot and the first four episodes of Helluva proved things can move along quickly and coherently.

We are expected to take what we remember of the pilot with us as a shortcut to knowing these characters, 'canon' or not.

#hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel pilot #hazbin hotel series #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism

[kingconia]

If you don't mind, can i request headcannon. Malleus play a mind game on female reader. Like malleus talk about a girl (which didn't even exist) she seem interesting and she also like him back he told reader in hope that reader get jealous and confess her feelings to him. But it backfired and reader was like "oh, congrats..." (Even though she felt hurt inside but decided to act mature and support). So at the end it was mess, as they argue, confess and cuddle...(you can make changes or do yan mal if you feel like. I hope you having a loney day/night)

A/N: I hope you are having a good time! Just as much as I hope that I delivered your idea properly.

•

Malleus Draconia was quite inexperienced when it came to romantic relationships—platonic as well—and that, indeed, was a common fact that everyone could gather simply by speaking with him at least once.

More to say, he was quite nervous about his feelings being mutual. As he wasn't so sure, he decided to ask an advice from people with experience. Some of ideas was ridiculous—Lilia told him to put you on the life and death situation, so, you could be honest with each other, and Azul Ashengrotto suggested him another of his ridiculous contracts—but in the end, Malleus's attention was caught by a quiet curious one.

That is how he found himself here, telling you a deceiving story of a girl, who caught his attention, and stole his heart.

”Oh,” you sighed, when he finished finally. ”From the sound of it, she is perfect.”

”I think the same,” Malleus nodded, determined. ”This woman is very special to me, and I really hope to ask her out soon.”

”Oh,” you repeated once again, tugging your hair slightly. ”That is nice, Malleus. I wish you a good luck.”

And that was it? Shouldn't be you jealous of him?

Malleus had been told—by the same person, who gave him this tip—that if anything helps lovers to be bluntly honest, it would be a simple jealousy. No one could control it, especially, in situation like this.

”Since you are my best friend,” Malleus tried again, ”I came to ask for your approval.”

”Do you want my blessing or something?” You scoffed at him.

”Perhaps, I do.”

Only a indifferent person would be fine with that.

”Oh, Malleus,” you grip his hand tightly, lips curling in smile. ”My only wish for you to be happy. So, of course, go and ask her out.”

He stared at you for a solid minute. Waiting. Waiting for you to show at least some kind of emotion. But it never came. Seemed, like you were really just his friend and nothing more.

Malleus smiled brokenly.

”Thank you, child of man. I appreciate that.”

That was just...

•

”...Unfair!” You tried to sob quieter, but these tries were useless, and so you just hid your face in your knees. ”I... I really thought he likes me, Grim. You know? I thought that we are... I thought he was flirting with me, and I thought my feelings were mutual, but...”

Grim sighed tiredly, pushing even more napkins in your hands.

You tried to be fine and contained about Malleus finding someone to himself—probably another pretty fae, who deserves to be his Queen—but failed miserably.

As soon as he left your company, after gaining some strange blessing from you, you simply stormed out from the Diasomnia dorm, ignoring Lilia's questions completely.

You wanted Malleus to be happy. You really did.

But... Ah, why couldn't he be happy with you?

Why couldn't he be happy with you?

Was it about immortality? Or wasn't you beautiful enough? Not smart? Was it about lacking magic?

You felt hopeless.

”Malleus is so cruel,” you chuckled. ”Asking all of this, making me hear all his lovingly stupid stories, and—”

"Wait, Y/n.”

’Not now, Grim. I just can't understand why he thought it is going to be a good idea.”

”And why it is not?”

You almost answered, but the voice died in your throat as you realised that it was not Grim's voice.

You raised your head slowly, glaring at your panicked little cat first, before turning around completely.

Fuck.

Malleus was standing right behind your couch.

”Oh, come on...”

As if this day couldn't be even worse.

”You know what,” Grim giggled nervously. ”I am out. Goodbye.”

You hissed in your hastily leaving familiar's back. What a traitor.

”So?” Malleus asked, leaning over the couch. ”Why it wasn't a good idea to share something good with you?”

His face wasn't showing any kind of emotions. He seemed slightly curious, and that was it.

Not willing to be hovered over, you stood up slowly.

”I... Malleus, listen...”

You didn't want to sadden him. You really didn't. But, ah...

You didn't want to lie him either. You know Malleus didn't like to be lied.

”I am listening.”

”Because...”

To be or not to be?

”Fine, because I like you, and... And I hate the idea of you, having a girlfriend. Yes, I am petty, yes, I am delusional for thinking that you were into me all this—”

He cut you through suddenly.

”You like me?”

A silence fell upon both of you, as his face turned out in a very confused one. His mouth was slightly open, eyes widened as you said something really confusing.

”...Of course, I do.”

”Why didn't you tell me it earlier?”

What he expected you to do? To play a role of envious wife, who keeps her man to herself solely? Right when he admitted something so important? And what would it change, even?

”What kind of person confesses in the middle of conversation like this?” You asked, genuinely frustrated by his obliviousness.

Malleus blinked.

”A jealous one?”

Was he mocking you?

”Yeah, I am aware of what I am, but I don't need you to be aware of that!”

Your patience finally ended, and you couldn't help but take a pillow from the couch, throwing it on him. Of course, he dodged it easily.

”I don't have anyone,” Malleus said suddenly.

”What—”

”I was taught that a jealousy would make you more honest, and therefore, if my feelings are, they would be returned,” he murmured, and you could feel how actually ashamed he seemed to be.

But even the redness of his cheek, couldn't save him from your rage.

Another pillow was taken, and this time, you hit him with mercilessly, not giving time to dodge that.

”Are you kidding with me?! I thought you don't like me!”

”Child of man, how could I not? I even described your appearance when I spoke about this woman...” Another hit. ”In fact, it was you, who seemed indifferent!”

Three more hits—two across the chest, and another on his face—and you stopped, breathing coming as hissing. Your eyes shut closed, and you threw pillow away, gripping the collar of his shirt, instead.

”Malleus. I really. Really. Like you,” your voice was loud and clear. ”But this idea of confession was just awful.”

You felt him relaxing. His cold hands were put on your cheeks, and his lips moved closer to your ear, brushing the tip of it slightly.

”I apologise, my love. I really do,” you shivered, but only pressed yourself closer to him. ”I must admit, my original plan of confession was completely different. I never planned to play with you like this.”

”Then why you did that?” You sighed, surrendering completely as your arms locked around his waist.

”Just as I said, it was a method that I was taught to.”

You frowned again.

”Who it was?”

”Hm?”

”Whose idea it was, to do this?”

”Oh... I think, it was Kingscholar.”

You gripped Malleus in the hug crushingly. Just as you thought that you calmed down...

”This fucking—”

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter Parker's Guilt Complex

Uncle Ben died because he didn't step up. If he isn't using his powers for good, then he's using them for bad. There is no neutrality for him, no stepping away from Spider-Man. We see this shown in Captain America Civil War:

"when you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen? they happen because of you"

Peter takes responsibility for the city of New York's safety all in his own back. Tony Stark validates him as a hero by having him fight alongside and against the Avengers, which fuels his belief that he's able to take on more than petty crime (when Tony doesn't provide anything more high-stakes, he takes his own risks. if bigger, badder things are out there and he isn't there to stop them? his fault.)

He can't step away, even for his own safety (his fault his fault his fault)

When he nearly dies in that collapsed building in homecoming it becomes glaringly obvious that there are no other heroes coming to save him. Even Peter Parker needs Spider-Man to save him; this only hammers in the idea that he can never rest as a hero, because then who else will save the city?

Peter drops his extracurriculars, stops hanging out with his friends. He becomes consumed with his hero identity (no breaks no time what if they need me what if there's danger what if I was having fun or doing homework while someone was dying?).

Then Peter becomes an Avenger, fights in a war, and loses people. Loses Tony. He's 16 and he just saved the world - so he takes a break. Goes to Europe with his class. Aunt May snuck the Spider-Man suit in his bag; the red and blue follow him like a ghost and he's haunted by expectations to save the world, to be the next Stark.

And Fury is there to remind him once again what a failure he is (step up, fight, no breaks. my fault my fault my fault). And for the first time in his career he considers that maybe the world is better without Spider-Man. Maybe he just makes things worse.

Beck is better. Beck will fix things. Peter chooses to be just a little selfish for once and hands over the Stark legacy to someone more qualified so he can go kiss a pretty girl.

It backfires; Peter's guilt nearly swallows him whole. Not only did he shit on everything great Tony thought he was, but now he's handed a super weapon to the latest villain hell bent on killing him and his friends (the people around me get hurt the people I care about the people that I put in danger my fault my fault my fault).

When his identity is revealed maybe a small part of him thinks he deserves this. The public may have the details wrong but in the end they're right, he's a fraud and a danger. He hurts the people he loves, lets them down and puts them in harm's way.

Ned and MJ can't get into MIT because of him, he tries to fix it. He messes up the spell, he tries to fix it. May dies and he can't fix it (my fault my fault my fault).

He lets them go. Blinded by his guilt he can no longer see the light and love he brought into people's lives, only the darkness he's stained them with. He cuts the strings and along with it goes some of the guilt that weighs him down, but where the guilt resided is now a gaping hole of loneliness, his chest as hollow as the apartment he now lives in.

On nights where he misses Ned's laughter, and MJ's witty comments, May's hugs, and working in Tony's lab, he still hears the voice in his head reminding him my fault my fault my fault. Though instead of guilt it only brings melancholy and resignation. This decision has to be the right one because the only person it's hurting is himself.

Peter Parker was a guilty man. So he gave up everything he had until there was nothing left to be guilty for.

Peter Parker is a selfless man.

#peter parker #peter parker angst #spider man #spider-man #tony stark #spider man homecoming #spider man far from home #spider man no way home #peter parker whump #spiderman #irondad and spiderson #captain america civil war #irondad #spiderson

[amuseoffyre]

I got thinking that the most honest and raw details about Ed and Stede's past are revealed in Stede's fever-dream and Badminton hallucination and Ed's coma, when they're confronted by their own subconsciousnesseseses (too many esesesss didn't know when to stop).

I had a pick over some of Ed's dialogue from the Gravy Basket the other day, which was barely even scraping the surface, including his expectation of violence when he's vulnerable, anticipation of hurt/cruelty in a domestic sphere and from a caretaker, desperate need for validation and approval and more.

While rewatching episode 1-4 today, it hit me how much Stede's demonstrate his belief that:

he was and remains nothing more than a disappointment to everyone around him, fit for scorn and derision (covering the parent, spouse and child for his fever dream)

no one would care if he was hurt ("Yeah, congrats")

he was insufficient ("you are such a disappointment")

he was a coward/weak ("He was scared of geese, for god's sake," say the man who shows up holding the goose he forced his son to watch him kill)

his choices, thoughts and fears would be laughed at (All of the above + Nigel)

no one cares about his physical well-being (Standing over him, taunting and laughing while he's in pain)

he was a terrible father by choosing to leave ("They'll never see papa again")

his children would hate him and wouldn't care if he was dead ("scoundrels spare no one")

Messy, emotionally-repressive autistic lad hasn't had anywhere to let out his distress for a long time, because he's never felt safe to do it. Mary says she knew he was unhappy and thought she heard him crying alone and, in a flat monotone, he denied it and said the crying was the wind.

He was conditioned to believe anything he said would be shot down. He wasn't allowed to express opinions and thoughts and his father made damn sure if he did have any, they were scoffed at and ridiculed, whether it was Stede's belief he was fortunate to have comfort and wealth or derision about his belief that he could marry for love. Mary's anger at his ship plan comes in there too, even if her reaction is warranted - he still sees a rejection of him, his ideas and the things he cares about.

It says it all that the only time he really does lose his temper in S1 (not including the meltdowns over things not going to plan) is when Jack is deliberately smashing all his buttons, treating him like his peers and dad used to and then, to rub it in extra hard, pissing on his shoes.

Stede tried to do what he normally did in stressful situations: he was going to go back to the ship so no one would see anything, because Conceal Don't Feel is that man's watchword. He bottles so finely he has an entire wine cellar of Trauma.

Ed catches him before he can leave and Stede's all out of control of his emotions and lets opinions fly and next thing he knows, Karl is dead, the crew are upset and Ed is leaving with Jack. So he learns Do Not Show The Emotions Again and boy, how that spectacularly backfires.

And on that note, watching S2, ohhhhhh there's an eruption coming at some point. He has been pushing it all down, shaking the bottles and stacking them. We've had his flashbacks again. We've had him kill for the first time. We've had him almost lose the love of his life multiple times. He's not dealt with any of that and a storm is a-coming now there's nothing to distract him from it.

Also, in case there's any doubts that his trauma isn't lurking to sneak back up and bite him, look at the man he chose to spend time with after Ed left him when he did something regarded as "man's work": an older man in a bloody leather apron just like his father in the flashbacks.

"You like me for me," he says to that guy, the one who has been reassuring him and validating him and telling him how good and worthwhile he is all day.

Stede "Daddy Issues and Then Some" Bonnet.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #long post

[scoops-aboy86]

More of the love spell no go au, because of course I did. This one is a little more bittersweet, because it covers the start of Steve's reaction to both the Russian torture and creeping dread that the Upside Down stuff will keep coming back.

He and Eddie are still close! But Steve is about to make some reluctant choices about his eating and activity habits, because he views it as his duty to help keep everyone he cares about safe.

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2

The day Eddie walks up to Scoops Ahoy and it’s still shuttered, he immediately knows that something is wrong. He has Steve’s schedule memorized, and even if he’d called out Robin would still be here. Uneasy, he goes back out to the parking lot and tries casting a locator spell in his van, sweat dripping into his eyes because the AC is still on the fritz. 

According to the spell, Steve is miles below the mall. That can’t be right. And usually when Eddie’s magic is a flop he keeps getting different wrong answers, like a math problem that you know you’re forgetting a step somewhere but can’t figure out what it is no matter how many times you do it over. This is consistent: below the mall. Or, below the mall and shifting gradually towards the left at a reasonable walking pace. 

It’s so weird that Eddie speeds home and wakes Uncle Wayne, which is usually something he avoids doing but this feels important. Wayne helps him with the spell, but the result is still the same. All Wayne can do is shrug and tell Eddie to trust his intuition when it comes to magic, because making it work through the earth like that can be tricky but Eddie must have at least been casting strong to get such consistent results, and goes back to bed. 

Eddie’s confidence in his magic has frankly been shattered ever since the love spell backfired, and he’s actually woefully out of practice for that exact reason. But he drives to approximately directly above where Steve is (a field maybe a mile or two from the mall) and starts casting whatever protection spells he can think of. One of them might only protect Steve from getting cavities, or it might prevent the loss of entire teeth and/or finger and toe nails. He’s not sure. But hey, the dude works in an ice cream shop, better safe than sorry right?

The downside of being so out of practice is that Eddie wears himself out. He keeps at it for most of Wednesday night and Thursday morning, but passes out around afternoon and wakes up in the back of the van after dark drenched in sweat from laying in the van all day even with the windows cracked open, probably lucky he didn’t get heat stroke. At first he can’t figure out where he is or what woke him, but he stumbles outside and sees a plume of smoke rising from where Starcourt Mall used to be, and…

Steve is just walking over to check on Nancy and Jonathan when Eddie’s van screeches up and Eddie himself jumps the barrier that’s supposed to keep civilians out. That’s the first word that comes to Steve’s mind—civilian—because for a few months there he’d managed to forget. But his head hurts, his face hurts, he’d nearly had a fingernail pried off until Robin had blurted out about the code, and the military guys still had yet to find his car keys that the Russians had confiscated. Steve is tired and hungry and still waiting to find out how bad the car crash (which he hadn’t mentioned to the paramedics, one too many things to remember at the time) fucked up his neck, and he forgets to self-moderate. He drops his shock blanket to grab Eddie in a clingy hug, eyes shut tight as he huffs “Don’t ask what happened, just don’t” into Eddie’s shoulder. 

The scents of leather and weed have never been more comforting before. 

“Hey Munson,” Robin says tiredly, wandering over. “We’re friends-in-law now.”

“What?” Eddie manages over Steve’s disheveled, unwashed hair. 

“Steve and I threw up together and became platonic soul mates,” she explains. 

“Trauma bonded,” Steve adds, still into Eddie’s jacket. Which kind of explains it a little better. Sort of. 

“Not asking,” Eddie decides after a confused moment. “Platonic soulmates, got it. Uh…” He looks around helplessly, recognizing Nancy and Jonathan in the background but no one else in the crowd and he’s just. Standing here with a magnificent hangover and an arm full of Steve Harrington in a bloodied sailor suit. “Anyone need a ride home?”

Only Steve and Robin take him up on the ride, which is fine. He drops Robin off first, and as he’s pulling out of her driveway Steve says, “I don’t know if it’s okay to go to sleep with a concussion.”

Eddie eases the break back on and turns to stare at him. “You have a concussion?”

Steve blinks slowly back at him. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Well… didn’t the EMTs tell you what to do? Like, how to tell if you should go to a hospital or something?”

He shrugs. “I don’t remember. Um… my parents aren’t home though, so I don’t know… Could I stay with you?”

Immediately Eddie thinks of Steve’s big house in Loch Nora, which he’d skulked around a time or two to sell at parties and pine from a distance, compared to the single-wide Munson trailer in Forest Hills. “I don’t know if you’d be comfortable—”

“It’s too much empty space,” Steve says, and there’s a look in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen since the first few times he bought weed. Like he’ll sit up all night jumping at shadows. And Eddie gets not wanting to be alone after being in a mall fire (apparently?), but what had put that look there before Starcourt?

“… My place it is.”

Medically, Steve is actually fine to stay alone. He hadn’t been the last time around, after Billy had cracked that plate on his skull, and that’s why Hopper had sent him home with Dustin once the gate was closed; Mrs. Henderson had been a nurse before turning to telemarketing as a way to stay home more with her son. As sure as Steve had been at the time that the Russians had beaten him harder than that, he’s much better then than he had been in November. 

Except he’s not. Because Hopper is dead, and even with the gate closed this shit had still managed to come back, and that makes Steve the man of the group but he’s too scared to sleep in his own house, which is full either of dark ceilings for monsters to crawl out of or light bulbs that could start flickering at any moment. So instead he’s here lying on his side, freshly showered and back to back with Eddie on a twin bed that feels like it’s seen better days. Staring at the bedroom door because the thought of sleeping with his back to it had made his throat feel tight. Maybe that was the whiplash, but he doubts it. 

Steve knows in his bones that the Upside Down isn’t done with Hawkins yet. He needs to train, to get ready… There’s Robin and Erica to think about, freshly drawn into this, one basically all his fault and the other too young to be dealing with horrors like this no matter whose fault it was. There’s Dustin (electrocuted that Russian doctor to death) and Max (watched Billy die) and the rest of the gremlins (Eleven, fuck, she just lost her dad), freshly re-traumatized and just two months out from entering the meat grinder that was freshman year at Hawkins High. If nothing else, he has to be strong for them. Which means…

Steve sighs, hugging himself tightly under the thin sheet. This whole summer he’d been leaning into doing whatever he felt like, and it hadn’t exactly prepared him for an emergency situation. He’d gotten lucky knocking out that one guard, sheer body weight leaning an extra oomph to the hit he’d landed, and that had ended the fight pretty quickly. But it hadn’t gotten him into the room with vent access fast enough to avoid getting himself and Robin captured. Being on the verge of needing to order the next size up in his work uniform hadn't lent him any protection against that Russian truth serum. All his summer of indulgences had led to was eating multiple bags of trash corn while trying to comprehend Back to the Future, which… not his proudest moment, really, but he had been drugged. 

Anyway. The point is, he needs to get back in shape. He is not going to turn into King Steve again, but maybe if he could just get some of it back. Start jogging and working out again, and not indulging his sweet tooth all the time. It’ll suck, but he’s gotta protect his friends—protect Eddie, who hopefully will never have to know about monsters and Russians and little girls with mind powers.

So Steve spends a sleepless night mourning the ice cream cones on his lunch breaks, and extra burgers or slices of pizza whenever ordering takeout, and the way Eddie watches him sometimes. And that last one… Maybe it won’t go away entirely, because they’re close now. Close enough that Steve can apparently just invite himself over and Eddie just lets him without protest, and Steve likes the trailer, likes that it’s small and cozy and actually looks lived in and loved. 

Around dawn, he rolls over and tentatively snuggles up against Eddie’s back, tucking an arm around him when Eddie moves unconsciously towards him rather than away. 

It’ll hurt to lose any of this. But he knows that Eddie will be some amount of disappointed in him for falling back into the jock mold, so… he just wants to hold on a little longer.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie

Part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

#wg steddie #love spell no go au #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie #platonic stobin #chubby steve harrington #feedee steve harrington