#having them in meetings together must be an absolute nightmare

[gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield]

Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)

For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.

They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.

As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.

I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.

1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)

If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.

For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.

It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.

As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.

2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)

If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.

If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.

It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...

Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).

3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)

And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.

Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.

While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.

4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)

You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.

A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.

And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!

We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.

5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)

If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.

This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.

We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!

Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.

6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)

We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.

It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).

That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:

The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.

Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.

Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.

Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.

Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.

The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.

Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.

Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.

Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.

Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.

Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.

Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.

Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.

#starkid #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #the lords in black #tgwdlm #nightmare time #black friday #nmt

[holdmytesseract]

Dream or Nightmare?

°☆• Part 2 of Illusions •☆°

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: Time passes - and Loki just can't forget you. What if he meets you again, but it doesn't turn out how he wished it would? Is there still hope for a happy end?

Warnings: angst - still quite a lot, but also fluff!

Word Count: 5,1k

a/n: I actually didn't plan to write a part 2, but well... Here we are - and I absolutely love it! 😊 Huge thanks to @hadesbabygurl and @smolvenger , who gave me the groundbreaking idea(s)! 😁

I hope this part makes y'all happy! 🧡

Tags:

@lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake (continuing in the comments)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

Time was passing fast - as fast as it could tick by while being 'stuck' at the TVA.

A lot had happened.

Mobius and Loki became best friends, first and foremost. They learned to trust each other and how to work together. Ravonna Renslayer disappeared - only the Norns knew where to, and the 'Time Keepers' had been overthrown and were now replaced by a council - for which everybody who wanted could vote. All of the workers knew now, that they were variants. It was chaotic and messy at first, but Loki and Mobius offered them to get their memories back - which took an awful lot of time, but it was worth it. Friends found each other again, just like family members, couples, classmates - hel, even neighbours.

It was part of the compromise.

For the safety of the time line everybody must stay at the TVA. Time lines still had to be reset, because everybody realised that there were only two ways... Strict order or complete chaos. Sure, it was cruel and unfair, but life just wasn't.

Unlike before, though, variants didn't get pruned as before. They got a thoroughly detailed explanation what was happening and how thinks worked here. They got offered a job. A home to stay. A chance to reunite with other variants they might know. A new life.

And the concept worked.

"Are you still thinking about her?" Mobius' voice urged to Loki's ears, as they sat across from each other in their lunch break; eating a slice of cake for dessert. Well... Mobius ate it. Loki was more or less absent-mindedly poking around with a fork in the poor deliciousness. At Mobius' words, though, he stopped and looked up; being snapped out of his thoughts.

The god sighed; "I think about her every day, Mobius." shaking his head. "I can't forget. Neither the memories, nor what could've been. And especially not Y/N." Like so often, when Loki's brain put him through the torturous memories of what had happend quite a while ago, here, in the TVA, as Mobius threw him inside his very own sweet, cruel dream, tears started to form in his eyes.

Mobius' eyes softened. He felt for his friend and was truly sorry about this tragedy. "I know you can't - and I'm so sorry. I was the one who put you through this." Once again, Loki shook his head. "You couldn't know. Stop blaming yourself." "Says you."

That caused the faintest of smiles to dart over the god's face. It didn't last, though.

"Sometimes I wish I could forget, you know. Get rid of all the heartache and pain. Stop getting tortured, but..." He swallowed hard; trying to hold back the tears. "All I have left of her are my memories." In vain. A single tear was running down his cheek and dripping onto the wooden surface of the table. "But I'd rather die than losing my memories of Y/N. It's a curse. A doom loop."

Mobius sighed. "I wish I could help you... Bring her somehow to you, but... I can't." "I know, Mobius... I know..." Silence spread between the two men, but before Loki could fall deeper into the dark hole which was his own mind, the agent decided to get him - like so often out of it.

"Come on," he said; standing up. "Let's keep on working. Still got a lot to do." Loki agreed and stood up as well. They both cleaned up their place and left the cafeteria, in order to keep on working.

"I see you tomorrow." Loki nodded; giving his friend a faint smile and turned to walk away. "And hey!" The god stopped in his tracks; facing Mobius once more. "Don't think too much. I know it's hard, but... Try it, okay?" "Yeah..." "Good."

Loki's and Mobius' shift had actually ended over an hour ago, but the two worked a bit overtime; keeping Loki distracted and to get some more work done. Now, the god was on his way home, when suddenly B-15 appeared beside Loki.

"Loki."

He stopped; turning to talk to his friend. "Oh, hey B. You good?" She smiled; giving him a nod. "Sure. You, too?" The god faked a smile and nodded. "How's work going?" "Good, but, uh, I'm in a bit of a hurry and... Can you do me a favour?" Anything to distract myself. "Of course, sure. I've got time." Loki shrugged his shoulders and buried his hands in his brown work trousers. "What do you want me to do?"

B-15 held up her TemPad. "Can you bring this to the Repairs & Advancements department?" The god took the TemPad. "Sure. Um, where do I find the department? I think I've never been there."

After B-15 described Loki how he'd get to his next destination, she thanked her friend and left.

Loki headed down several hallways, before he stepped into the elevator; pressing the lowest button. It took the machine a whole while to get him on this very floor. It felt like an eternity for him - but ultimately, the familiar 'ding' tone echoed through the small space and the doors slid open. They revealed a long, high hallway with mint green cabinets lining the right side of the hallway. A lot of different things were stacked on said cabinets.

Loki gazed around; scanning his surroundings. It looked kind of... messy. Chaotic.

Hesitatingly, he stepped out of the elevator and walked cautiously down the hallway. Am I right here? He saw nobody else. Not a single soul. Sure, the lights were on; actually creating a bright and somehow cosy atmosphere, but... Nevertheless was this all a bit creepy. The god kept on walking, until he reached a room. That must be it. Hunter said the first room on the left.

He stepped inside. The room was big, high, utterly chaotic and yet organised. Big kind of racks lined the sidewalls; every shelf filled to the brim. In the middle was a huge oval-shaped counter with several things and stuff laying around on it. Most of them Loki even couldn't name. And whatever it was that hung from the ceiling, Loki had never seen something similar before.

Nobody was to be seen - or well... That's how it seemed. He stepped forward, until he reached the counter - on which stood written in big, black letters: Repairs & Advancements. Must be right, then.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Hellooo?! Somebody here?!"

Again, Loki received no answer. He waited a few moments; let a few minutes pass - but nothing.

"Why would Hunter send me to this place, if nobody is even here?" Loki said out loud - more to himself; frowning. Shrugging his shoulders, he just placed the TemPad on the counter in front of him and turned to leave - only to completely freeze in motion mere seconds later.

"Wait, wait! I'm here, I'm here! Hello! Don't leave!" A female voice suddenly echoed through the big room; followed by some loud noises. Loki froze in place. He knew that voice. It was all too familiar to him. He didn't hear it in a painfully long time - only in his head; and he thought he'd never hear it again... You. It was your voice.

Loki felt like he was struck by lightning and hit by a truck at the same time. His mind and emotions were running wild. Was this... reality? Could this be true? Or was it again just a cruel illusion? Or by the Norns, did he go mad? Was it all just in his head?

He didn't dare to turn around. Too afraid to be disappointed and heartbroken again, but also curious at the same time; his heart already screaming at him to run to you.

"Apologies! I didn't have a visitor in, uhhh, was it 200 or 300 years... Anyways, please don't go! How can I help you?" There was your voice again. But closer. And Loki couldn't help himself, but to turn around. His head fighting a battle against his heart, which was already lost the moment he heard you call out for the first time.

So, he turned around, slowly; facing the counter once again. His breath hitched in his throat; eyes widening and jaw slacking. Every muscle in his body tensed, but also lost control at the same time.

There you stood, behind the counter with that beautiful kind smile on your face. Your hair was bound together in a messy bun with a few loose strands framing your face. You wore some kind of brown, beige and green overall and looked like a... mechanic?

Tears started to pool in the god's eyes.

"Y-Y/N?" He halfway sobbed; voice hoarse. "A-Are you... Are you real? I-Is this... r-real?"

You frowned; scrunched your nose in the cutest way possible. "I, uh, I think you confuse me with somebody else. My name is Ouroborus, not Y/N - but you can call me O.B."

Loki's facial expression derailed. It felt like getting Hulk-smashed full force - until realisation hit him. She doesn't remember... Of course, she doesn't remember! She's been brainwashed, just like the others.

Loki shook his head frantically, before making quick steps towards you. "No... Your name isn't Ouroborus - and you'll remember me in a few seconds, my love."

You frowned even more and absolutely didn't understand why that strange TVA worker suddenly touched your arm gently. He was gazing into your eyes like you meant the world to him - and you didn't know why. What is wrong with him and why is he so... desperate and shaken?

Shaking your head softly, you pulled your arm away; out of his gentle grasp. "I'm sorry, but, um... Do... Do we know each other?"

Loki's heart fell and shattered into a million pieces at the impact. She can't remember me... Why can't she remember me?! Still!

"W-What?" He breathed out; the tears starting to fall once again. "It can't be..." You could practically feel the desperation radiating off of him. "I-I don't understand, I... W-Why is it not working?"

You watched the strange man pace up and down; ruffling his wild raven curls. What a weird thing to happen... There you were, living your peaceful life, repairing several things the TVA workers send you, with nobody actually visiting you for hundreds of years and suddenly - out of the blue, there was this man and did... that? You honestly couldn't quite believe what was happening in front of your eyes, and yet you felt a wave of... sympathy for him. Compassion.

You got ripped from your thoughts, as you felt two warm, strong hands softly gripping the sides of your upper arms. You blinked, only to realise that the man was leaning over the counter; oceanic blue eyes seemingly staring straight into your soul.

"Y/N, please... Please tell me you can remember...."

He was so close that you were able to actually smell him. Leather; something fresh and fruity you couldn’t point out and a mix of sultry musk and charred wood.

You blinked; softly shaking your head.

"I-I don't, I-"

Loki dropped his hands abruptly with a frustrated, sad sigh and stepped back. His eyebrows slanted, as he lifted his hands to gesture at himself; fingertips literally digging themselves into the clothed flesh of his chest. "It's me, Y/N..."

So slowly, he was frightening you a bit. His sheer maniac frustration. He seemed to be obsessed... with you?

"Sir, I'm really sorry. I-I don't know what happened to you, or the person you are looking for, but I'm asking you to leave now. I'll take a look at that TemPad and send it back as soon as I repaired it."

Loki's body slumped; all hope leaving his body.

Days, weeks, months, years ago, you were so far and unreachable. Now you were so close suddenly, and yet still out of his reach. It wasn't fair.

Loki stumbled backwards, overwhelmed by the whole situation and your request for him to leave.

"I-I'm so sorry... So sorry..." The god mumbled, before literally turning on his heels and running; trying to escape the nightmare he had fallen into. Or was it a dream?

He ran to the elevator, pressing the button quickly; repeatedly - almost as if something was hunting him down. As soon as the doors shut close and the machinery started to move him upwards, Loki pressed himself against the brown wall; breathing heavily. He was completely beside himself; on the verge of losing his mind.

Did that just really happen?

Not knowing what to do, he absent-mindedly stumbled down the hallways of the TVA, until he landed on the doorstep of the little house of his best friend...

His fist hit the wooden door; begging for entrance. "Mobius..." And again. "Mobius, please... Open the door." No minute later, the grey-haired man with the moustache answered the god's pleas and opened up the door.

"Loki?" Mobius asked with a frown; still dressed in the familiar TVA shirt and trousers. His eyes settled on Loki. He saw the tears in his eyes... How puffy and red they were. He could tell that Loki was devastated and... traumatised? It alarmed the agent. He had never seen his friend like that before.

"What happened?!"

A single tear was running down the god's cheek. "She can't remember, Mobius. I-I tried to give her all the memories back, b-but she can't remember... It's not working!"

Loki's words confused Mobius. He hadn't a single clue what this was all about.

"Who, Loki? Who? What are you talking about?"

Loki stared aimlessly into distance; swallowing hard.

"Y/N..."

This confused the agent even more. And he was highly concerned; given the fact that his best friend seemed... disorientated and not quite himself...

Gently grabbing Loki by his shoulder, he urged him to step inside his house. "Come in." The god let himself get 'dragged' inside wordlessly; without any resistance. Mobius guided him to the kitchen; stopping in front of the small dining table and pulling back a chair. "Sit down, take a breath and tell me exactly what happend, okay?" Loki nodded; did what Mobius told him to do and sat down.

Loki needed a moment to sort his thoughts and process what he had just experienced - which wasn't quite easy...

"B-15... She- I met her on my way home after our shift. She asked me if I could bring her TemPad down to the Repairs & Advancements department a-and-" "The Repairs & Advancements department?" "Y-Yes?" Mobius shook his head; visibly trying to think. "I honestly don't know if I was ever down there... Perhaps... Perhaps not... And you went there?" Loki nodded; feeling his emotions get stuck in his throat again. "Yes. I-I found her, Mobius. She's there. S-She-" "Who? Who did you find?" The agent interrupted his friend.

Another tear rolled down the god's cheek; his heart rate picking up at the thought of you. "Y/N... My Y/N..." Mobius' eyes widened. "What?! Y/N? She's there? Here? In the TVA?" Loki nodded; a black curl falling into his face. "Yes, but... She... She can't remember, Mobius. I tried to give her back all the memories, but... It didn't work."

The agent frowned. "What do you mean it didn't work? It worked with everybody here. With every variant. And now you're telling me that Y/N is... immune to it?"

"Yes."

Mobius went silent; answered nothing, and strained Loki's patience with it.

"What am I going to do now, Mobius? I-I can't pretend this never happened. I can't just ignore her! This is the woman I love! My heart, body and soul are yearning for her! I-" "I know, I know," the agent interrupted his friend. "Take a deep breath. We're going to find a way, okay?" Loki nodded; followed his order.

"What if..." Mobius started; thinking. "What if it has something to do with your feelings for her? Could this change something in your magic? I mean... You don't have a past with every other variant here and barely know them, but Y/N is different." Loki shrugged his shoulders; still a bit overwhelmed. "I-I don't know... It shouldn't. After all, it worked with you and Hunter, too - and you are my friends. We do have a past."

Mobius sighed. "Point taken." Loki was right.

"Well, in that case... I currently can't think of another solution than making her fall in love with you again. Perhaps she remembers then."

Loki blinked. "Make her fall in love with me again? You mean... Woo her, take her out on dates and court her properly?" "Exactly."

The god swallowed hard. This was not how he hoped this would go, but what other choice did he have right now?

Loki needed a few days, until he set foot in the Repairs & Advancements department once again. His brain, but especially his heart had a hard time catching up with what was happening... You were constantly on his mind. All day long - and at night, he saw you in his dreams. It was even worse than before.

Now, he stepped cautiously down the lonely hallway towards you again, taking deep breaths. He decided to best start with an apology - and that was exactly what he wanted to do now.

"H-Hello?" Loki entered the big room. "O...Ouroborus?" It felt so wrong to call you by that name and not your real one. "I, uh, I came here to apologise! I didn't mean to scare you. It's just... I lost somebody who was very important to me and you reminded me of her." You suddenly appeared from behind the counter, smiling softly. "Apology accepted. I'm sorry you lost her. Sounds very hard to lose someone important..." The god swallowed again; noticing how hard it was to keep his feelings at bay and under control.

"It truly is. Again... My apologies." "You're forgiven-, uh... What's your name, actually?" You asked with a bubbly giggle. "Loki." "Well, then... You're forgiven, Loki." His name leaving your lips caused a shiver to run down his spine; butterflies running wild inside his belly.

"Thank you."

From that day on, Loki tried to spent as much time with you as possible, in order to test out Mobius' theory and hoping to make you fall in love with him again. He tried to be his funny, charming, mischievous self - but after a while he had the feeling, that he was not making any progress. He took you on 'date' after 'date' after 'date', but that was it. You'd always talk about work, colleagues and the TVA in general. It was not very often, that the conversations became a lot more personal. Loki really tried everything possible to woo you; always stayed positive and didn't give up hope, but the feeling he had was anything but good - and he should be proven right...

Being the gentleman Loki was, he always accompanied you home after each 'date' and made sure that you arrived safely - just like today.

You stopped in front of the small door, fishing out the keys of your handbag and turned the lock, before turning to face the man again. "Thank you, Loki," you said; giving him a soft smile; which he returned. "No need to thank me, dar- O.B. It's a privilege to accompany your date home." Your smile faltered a bit; almost impossible to see, but Loki caught it anyway. Did I say something wrong?

"Good night, Loki. Thanks for paying dinner." He gave you a court nod, "As I said... Privilege." and paused for a moment.

"Would you... Would you like to come over sometime next week? After work? I-I could cook something for us and we could enjoy the rest of the evening with a glass of wine on the sofa." Loki had never invited you to stay at his - until now, and therefore was he slightly nervous. He couldn't help himself. His heart forced him to make the next move; suffering already way too long. The vital organ felt like a decaying rose since you had re-entered the god's life...

Flowers need water to live - and your love was the water Loki's heart needed.

You swallowed hard; body tensing up visibly. Something shifted within your demeanour. He noticed.

"Loki, that... That's really very kind of you and a sweet idea..." Your words send his heart and hope skyrocketing. Could this be finally the moment I waited such a long time for? Like a fool blinded by love, he didn't notice the hesitant undertone in your voice.

"But, uhm... I'm really sorry to say that, 'cause you've been very generous and kind to me... Uhm... I know you try to impress me. And maybe you feel more than just friendship, but... I don't feel quite the same." You took a deep breath; your words felt like a painfully tight grip around the god's heart.

"You are very nice, but absolutely not the type of men I'm into. I, uh, don't want something romantically with you. Sorry..."

And his heart crumbled to dust underneath your hand; all hope came crashing down. Loki wanted to cry and scream from the agonising pain within his chest - but he didn't. Instead, he just nodded wordlessly. "I-I understand. Thank you for your honesty. Good night," he more or less rushed out, before he turned to quickly walk away, since the tears started to already form in his eyes. He had absolute no intention to break down right in front of you. He'd rather do that at home - and he did.

That night and the few nights which followed, the god more or less cried himself to sleep. The small spark of hope he had carried within his body was gone. Extinguished. Non-existent. Nothing was able to cheer him up. Neither his best friend, nor B-15 - who was shocked to learn that she had send her friend unknowingly back to the love of his life. The Norns knew they tried, but... In vain. Just like Hunter and Mobius had no solution for the memory problem...

Loki stopped visiting you. Took his distance; knowing very well that he couldn't just treat you like a friend.

Days turned into weeks, but it was the same like before... Loki couldn't forget you and especially his feelings for you. You seemed to follow him everywhere. He often dreamed of you. Almost every night. A thin line between torture and bliss - until one dream changed everything...

A young Loki came to stand beside his mother; the cape of his ceremonial armour gently billowing in the wind. "I can sense your happiness, son," Frigga started; turning her head to look at him. "I take it your attempts to woo Lady Y/N have been successful?"

Loki blushed in the deepest shades of red at his mother's words. "M-Mother, I, um, w-we..." The young prince stumbled over his own words, trying to explain himself, but the Queen only shook her head softly.

"No chance in denying, Loki. I saw the kiss you shared. And besides, I'm neither blind nor stupid. It was only a matter of time. But finally, we got that kiss." She winked - and Loki literally jumped up in his bed; wide awake. The dream triggered another memory, which had been locked deep down somewhere in his brain. His eyes widened.

A kiss...

Perhaps that was what it would take... A kiss.

Loki had remembered a bedtime story which his mother would tell him and Thor, back when they were small kids. Toddlers, perhaps even. The story was called 'Sleeping Beauty' - a Midgardian fairytale, in which a beautiful princess falls into a deep slumber due to an evil magic spell, and the only way to save her is, of course, true love. So, the handsome prince kisses her - and she awakes.

Isn't the TVA exactly the same somehow?

As stupid as it might sounded, Loki had to try. He'd try anything to get you back.

He jumped out of his bed; quickly slipping into his TVA clothes. A look on the watch told him, that he'd have to get up for work soon anyway, so he had some time to get to you, before his shift started. With a snap of his fingers was he ready to leave his small home; teeth brushed, raven locks tamed and body clean. Usually, he didn't use his seidr for this, but today...

Loki was almost running down the seemingly endless corridors of the TVA, before he reached the elevator and only a few moments later the Repairs & Advancements department. Confident and trusting in the brainwave he just had, the god strutted down the last hallway, separating him from you.

Entering the big, familiar room, he looked around; eyes searching you - and to his luck, he indeed found you. You were standing on the left, in front of the huge shelf, inspecting some... device. Not beating around the bush - and not losing any more precious time, he quickly stepped over to you.

You were deep in thoughts; focused on your work and task ahead. Once the approaching steps had gotten from your ears to your brain, it was already too late.

Being suddenly yanked into someone's arms caused a yelp to escape your lips. "Loki?!" You squeaked with eyes wide open; caught like a deer in the headlights. "What by the Timekeepers are you doing?! Let go of me! I told you I am not-"

The god had heard enough. Before you were able to protest more, he leaned in and captured your lips with his; pouring all his love for you in the kiss.

While Loki relished in the feeling of your soft lips after such a long time, you were shocked. Appalled. You told him he wasn't your type and yet he makes a move on you? How rude... You wanted to push him away and ask him what the fuck he thought he is doing.

You had already lifted your hands; ready to shove him away, when it happened... Your brain felt suddenly like it was about to explode; a dam on the verge of breaking - and it did. Memories exploded within your head like fireworks... Asgard. Your childhood. Your parents. The first time you saw Loki. The first words you exchanged. The beautiful friendship you had shared with him, which melted into your first kiss. You remembered. How he had made love to you for the first time. Every dance and laugh you shared. His proposal. Everything.

You felt relieved; free. It was like the fog in your brain had finally lifted and you could think clear again. You could finally see him.

Your heart threatened to burst from the sudden rush of happiness and love you felt. You had lost Loki, landed in the TVA, were forced to forget him - and suddenly... He was right in front of you.

But then you felt how Loki wanted to break the kiss again - something you couldn't allow him to do. Before he could part his lips from yours, you pulled him quickly back in; literally throwing yourself into his arms. Unbeknownst to you, flew the god's eyes open and widened to the size of plates at your movement. Surprised and shocked, he gave into the kiss; just enjoying the moment - until he had to take a breath.

Deep Y/E/C eyes gazed into his; a teary smile on your face. You slowly lifted your hands to cup his chiselled cheeks; feeling his skin underneath your fingertips after such a long time, sending shivers down your spine. "Loki..."

His name leaving your lips caused his heart to skip a beat, as realisation hit him.

"You remember me?"

You nodded quickly; running a hand gently through his raven curls.

Tears spilled from Loki's eyes like waterfalls as he lifted you up into his arms; spinning you in a circle. You yelped up in surprise, but giggled almost deliriously; wrapping your arms around his neck.

"At last, I finally have you back, my love. I'm so sorry it took me so long to find a way back to you, I should have-" You shook your head; shushing him. "Shhh, my prince. Not now. Don't blame yourself." You pressed your forehead against his. "We have a lot to catch up to, but... Let us enjoy this moment, please. Just... hold me. Let me feel your touch. I've been starving for way too long."

How could Loki possibly refuse your request? He smiled through his tears and wrapped you up securely in his arms; kissing you slow and tender.

"Hey, C-4, have you seen Lo- Oh my goodness. Am I dreaming?" Both, Mobius and the other TVA worker were staring at the end of the hallway. C-4 in confusion and Mobius in shock. "I, uh, don't know? What do you mean exactly, Mobi-" Clapping his fellow co-worker absent-mindedly on the shoulder; eyes fixated on what was happening in front of him, he moved on. "Thanks, C-4. I got this."

You and Loki walked towards Mobius; smiling brightly. Loki had slipped his fingers through yours, holding your hand tightly. Stopping halfway to wait for for his friend, the god couldn't help but to pull you into a gentle kiss, causing you to giggle.

"Loki?" Mobius asked; still not quite believing what his eyes saw. "Am I dreaming this? Is that..." He gestures towards you. Loki chuckled, nodding. "Y/N, yes... My Y/N." His friend smiled. "So... She can finally remember? She has her memories back?" He nodded again; feeling how a lump formed in his throat once more. Happy tears were ready to fall.

"Yes... Finally, she remembers." Loki turned to you. "Darling, this is Mobius. He's my best friend." You smiled at the man opposite of you, stretching out your hand. "Very happy to meet you, Mobius. I'd introduce myself, but I guess my man here did that already, so..." Mobius returned the smile; shaking your hand. "In all those years, the one thing he loved to talk about, was you. It was really sweet." You giggled at his words; seeing Loki blush.

"How did you get her to remember? I thought you couldn't?" Mobius asked, after swallowing the piece of cake. He had invited you to eat a slice of cake together, catching up a bit.

Both, you and Loki smiled lovingly at each other; hands still intertwined. You just couldn't leave your hands off of him - just like Loki couldn't leave his hands off of you. "Well..." You started. "He's my prince. And just like a prince, he kissed me awake." "Because I am your true love." "Just like I am yours."

Mobius' eyes widened. "What? Like in that fairytale? What was its name again?" "Sleeping Beauty," said Loki with a smile. "Yes! That's the one." His friend nodded.

"Exactly like that, Mobius. I kissed her awake - and now she's mine again."

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

[honeybeefae]

enemies to lovers with Az 😩

Behind The Masks (Azriel x Reader)

BINGO: Enemies to Lovers

(This is the SFW version but I’m sure I’ll write a continuation of this for the NSFW prompt bc this was requested so much! If you want a part 2…I left it on a cliffhanger for a reason. *wink wink*. I hope you guys enjoy!!)

WARNINGS: Slight angst

“Does everyone have what they need?” Rhysand asked your group, looking at everyone individually as you all nodded. “I know this isn’t ideally how we would spend a weekend but it must be done.”

“I have no problem using my Saturday to dance with this beautiful woman.” Cassian grinned, tugging Nesta to his side who just rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Isn’t that right, Az?”

You grimaced when the Shadowsinger looked down at you with disdain. For whatever reason, despite your history of hating each other, Rhysand and Feyre had paired the two of you together for the Masquerade Ball tonight in the Court of Nightmares. 

Normally Mor would be taking your place but she was off doing something else so if you hadn’t coupled up, you both would’ve been the odd two out. It made sense logically but neither of you was very happy about it.

“Let’s just get tonight over with.” Azriel responded cooly, squaring his shoulders and gripping his mask tightly in his fists. You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Right because I’m the bad company.” You snarked, crossing your arms. Feyre gave you a sympathetic look but you avoided her gaze, motioning to the door. “Can we just leave?”

“Please.” Rhysand said, wanting to diffuse the tension as they winnowed. Cassian lifted Nesta into his arms and stepped outside, taking off into the night as you reluctantly did the same with Azriel. He barely looked at you as he followed suit, his jaw tight as you all headed to the mountain.

—--------------------------

The party was in full swing, everyone dawning masks of various shapes and colors, and you found yourself being spun around for the fifth time that night. Azriel had abandoned you as soon as the music started but you didn’t really care, choosing to enjoy the night as best as you could.

You drank and ate with Nesta, sneering at some of the court ladies who turned up their noses at you both. Desperation reeked off of them, just like the rest of the court, as they took every chance they could to grab for power or put others down. 

“Azriel isn’t keeping up with his part of the plan,” Nesta noted, sipping her wine while watching you frown. “Do you even know why he acts like this towards you? How long has this childish tantrum been going on?”

“Since we meet.” You replied, downing the rest of your glass. “I did something to piss him off, questioned his authority or some petty shit, and I guess that was the end of our relationship. Not that I care.”

“Mhm.” She nodded though she doubted you were telling the truth. “Maybe he wants something else, someone else if you catch my meaning.”

Your eyebrows rose as you gawked at her, shaking your head furiously. “Absolutely not. One, I’m not his type. Two, never in a million, billion years.”

“You’d be surprised how fast that time passes.” Nesta said coyly, placing her glass down and walking away before you could argue. You looked around once more, not even seeing the Shadowsinger, before reaching for another glass. 

A large, scarred hand stopped you before you could grab it. You scowled, following the arm until you were looking into the hazel eyes of a man you hated. “What are you doing?”

“I think you’ve had enough.” He stated lowly. “Surely you don’t want to make a spectacle of yourself. Though, now that I say that, I’m sure you would like the attention.”

Red, hot anger filled your veins at his casual insult, and you gave him a middle finger, spinning on your heel to go find somewhere else to be until he grabbed you roughly and spun you back into his arms.

Before you could blink he had you in the middle of the dance floor, your chest pressed against his while his hand rested on the small of your bare back. You struggled against him but that only made him tighten his grip. 

“You’re making a scene.” He whispered through gritted teeth, a black mask concealing half of his face. “Get it together.”

“Since when do you care?” You spat, not even hiding your distaste as you circled the ballroom. “I thought you wanted to get tonight over with. If I cause a scene surely that helps your problem with me.”

“I do not have a problem with you.” Azriel rolled his eyes. 

“Oh is that what a friendship is with you then? Brooding stares, snide comments, and constant patronizing?” You reply sarcastically, your own mask doing little to conceal your feelings. “Boy, I must be your best friend.”

“Are you always this insufferable? No wonder you haven’t bedded anyone in months.” He snarks, almost tripping over his own feet when you stopped suddenly. The other couples around you stopped as well, all of them eager to see what drama was unfolding, but you didn’t want to give them anything to use against you. 

“I hate you.” You swore, tears welling up in your eyes as you ripped your hands out of his grasp and stormed out of the ballroom, brushing off Nesta’s hand as she tried to stop you.

The air around you felt too hot, too heavy as you started running down the hallways while holding the skirts of your dress. Tears were freely flowing down your cheeks as you ripped off your masks, not caring that some people were staring and laughing at your misery. You didn’t stop running until you reached your room in the Court of Nightmares, slamming it shut behind you as hard as you could.

You went over to the mirror and looked at yourself, looked at the smeared mascara, and hated how he had gotten to you. All this time, after living with this for years, never once had you shown him how much the things he said affected you. It would only make things worse. 

And yet here you were, causing a dramatic scene in the worst place possible with the worst person possible. You truly were pathetic.

Knock. Knock.

Immediately you knew it was Azriel. Rhys had probably sent him for damage control, forcing him to swallow his pride to apologize. You refused to answer.

“I know you’re in there. Open the door.” His voice was cold.

Silence was all he got. You heard him shift his feet in frustration.

“If you don’t open the door I’ll break it open myself. For once just listen to me.” He huffed, though his tone turned soft towards the end. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath, staring at the engraved wood.

“Fuck off.” You replied sweetly, flipping off the door and turning to walk to the bathroom. There was barely enough time to wince when the door creaked under the weight of his shoulder before he barged in, a scowl settled deep on his face.

“I’m trying to talk to you.” He said while kicking the door back closed with the heel of his shoe. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Why can’t you seem to take a hint?” You jabbed, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “I don’t want to talk to you. I know that might be hard for your tiny brain to comprehend but I think you got all your feelings out with that comment in the ballroom. Now, as I said earlier, fuck off.”

“Can’t take the heat?” Azriel taunted, stepping closer to you while ignoring everything you had just said. “I expected more resilience from you, more bite.”

You didn’t even think about it when your hand came up to slap him, gasping when his own hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped it inches from his face. You struggled to follow through, barely able to move his arm, as his smirk grew tenfold.

“Let. Me. Go.” You ordered, rage making the edges of your vision red. There was something else in the atmosphere, something that would be extremely dangerous if you gave it any attention. 

“Or what?”

You were chest to chest with him, your head tilted up to glare at him as he raised a mocking brow. The urge to wipe that stupid smirk off his face was growing like an inferno.

“You’re such a stupid, barbaric Illy-” You began to spit until his mouth crashed against yours, silencing the rest of your sentence as you stood there in shock. He immediately swiped his tongue along your lips and you didn’t fight him, didn’t breathe until you felt a fresh, hot wave of arousal swirl with your anger.

It was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. The answer to all your secret desires while also opening up questions to everything you once knew as the truth. You felt yourself spiraling and the only thing connecting you to reality was Azriel’s soft, hungry lips.

And you wanted more.

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar fic #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #azriel #azriel x reader #azirel x reader acotar #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x you #acotar bingo #azriel acotar #azriel fic #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar azriel #enemies to lovers

[bitethedustfools]

TWST Story Idea (10)

Twisted Wonderland is a very unique world. Their world has magic, and they have different species living together, ranging from mages, beastmen, fae, merfolk, and so on.

Yuu's world had something like those, but obviously, that was just in a story, a fiction, a drawing on walls and pots. Something that almost all people heard of but did not believe in their existence. Which is understandable because Yuu's world is just humans and animals, and that's it. There are no werewolves, no vampires or mermaids, not even a dragon, and so on.

Yuu had been the type of person who always has been interested in these kinds of things: mythology, folklore, and cryptozoology, and maybe a little bit of history. That's what Yuu loves in the whole world.

They know many things and the history of how it came to be. You can ask Yuu if they know about skinwalker, and they'll put up a presentation that they prepared for years, which somehow leads to other cryptids. The Beast of Gévaudan? Yuu's got a conspiracy board with a bunch of pictures of animals to prove this beast is actually so and so and where it ran off to. They are also very knowledgeable about Greek mythology, followed by Norse, Aztec, and so on.

So imagine Yuu got transported to Twisted Wonderland and got the shock of their life when they saw a beastman. Yuu expected to see a furry animal standing on two feet, the face a mix with man and animal followed by animalistic growls and piercing eyes. Not… not a goddamn handsome man with a pair of ears and tails!

Sure, they had seen this type before, but that's on some people's fantasy that they have written and drawn! Yuu is absolutely stupefied when they're face to face.

Every time Yuu met a new species, Yuu didn't fail to feel disappointed in what they saw. The dragon by the name of Malleus got a human form that he likes to use, and that has the most ridiculously handsome face Yuu has ever seen. Where is the fire-breathing dragon? Where is the gold they hoard? The wings? Yuu is not satisfied with this.

Yuu met Hades next, who was hailed as one of the prominent seven figures seen as a hero or something, which just conflicted with what Yuu knows about the Hades of their world.

Yuu took a look at the multiple figures next to him like the Fairest Queen, the Queen of Hearts, Maleficent, and Ursula, and was astounded to see that they also were hailed as heroes. Their story is so much nicer than the original story Yuu read that at least, 2 out of 4 stated above died horribly if Yuu is not mistaken.

The dwarves are just toddlers that can speak perfectly, the eels from the Little Mermaid are humanified, what was supposed to be a werewolf is not a werewolf at all. The ghosts are all the same as though they are copy and pasted many times, some had different clothes. Yuu saw Grim, and they're not sure what he is, but he's cute, so that's alright.

Halloween comes, and Yuu is ready to be the most terrifying monster of them all, and they did, but that's because the rest dressed prettily and not terrifyingly like Yuu expected!

Where's the horror? Where are the screams of terror and the nightmare fuel appearance?? Yuu wanted to see someone getting traumatized, and all they got is sparkles and annoyance. Those magicam monsters must be stupid and blind to be scared of such pretty faces.

The only highlight of the Halloween was the Spectral realm like yes! The gloomy atmosphere is here! The graves! The very gothic architecture is everywhere! It was what Yuu imagined where the wandering and unrest souls will go.

It got crashed by a disco ball, though.

In short, Yuu didn't like it.

This world is sh*tty and against everything Yuu believed in. It's like meeting an idol you like so much and find that they are not the same as your expectation or something.

Dissatisfied, Yuu complained to themself, unaware that NRC heard it. "This is not what I imagined them to be. What a let down…"

Seeing that NRC are full of prideful kids, naturally, they get offended being told by a magicless human that Twisted Wonderland filled with wonder doesn't excite Yuu in any slightest.

Now this. This made Yuu perked up, but at the same time, Yuu is also offended that the others think their world is nothing special.

Yuu made up their mind to take it as a challenge. Yuu won't lose to these rip-offs of their world. They're gonna prove their world is superior, and that's Yuu's pride as a human being from that world.

Twisted Wonderland might have 7-8 prominent figures, but Yuu's world has more, although they may not exist today. Yuu is gonna show them how there's charm in being a mystery and history.

Yuu proceeded to drop snippets of a bunch of mythology, folklore, and cryptozoology randomly in the different places.

Yuu would go camping with the friends and said in his world there used to be a Wendigo roaming around in the woods. They would describe vividly about its appearance and how it eats flesh and the origin of how it came to be, taking sadistic delight when said friends looked at each other shakingly.

Yuu would mention out of nowhere about how beautiful people would have been sacrificed to the gods to a rather vain person and said it's lucky they are not in Yuu's world.

They even talked about Salem witch trials down to the details when a group of their friends has a fight or something. Magic doesn't involve in that, of course, but they looked terrified that even humans would accuse and execute their own kin. A very dark history indeed.

The mer eel would have threatened Yuu about squeezing and biting and so on, and Yu would drop a myth in their world about eating mermaid would bring immortality and maybe that's why they don't exist anymore.

They even mentioned casually that the faes would replace human kids with theirs and also kidnapped humans as pets. They can also be invisible to the eyes so no one would know or even find them.

The others are terrified to hear what story sprouted out of Yuu.

#twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst yuu #writing prompt #Malleus: we would never kidnap kids #Yuu*looks at Silver: No but... #sometimes you gotta put the boys in their place #and how you gonna do that? #you dominate them by telling all the tales your world have to offer #they gonna call Yuu weak??? #yea check out the world where Yuu lived #all these gods and otherworldly beings and the humans triumphed #they get to tell the tales

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 10

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: smut (oral/m receiving), talks of period intercourse, detailed PTSD flashback, graphic death of character discussed, self-deprecating talk, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Author's Note: This is a heavy chapter--- Big time PTSD flashback so consider yourself warned! Also, I purposely chose to not use characters in the flashback from the movie Sand Castle. I just didn’t want to kill off anyone’s fave character, so we are going to pretend this flashback was another mission from another deployment right before Sy retired not related to the movie. It was just easier for my conscious to write it that way. 

Part 9

All night long I have nightmares about the war. I wake and try to reset myself like the therapist taught me with deep breathing, water, change of environment, etc.; but nothing is working. I maybe only get about 2 hours of sleep total and I’m exhausted. I still go on my run to try and exhaust myself even more so that maybe tonight I will pass out into a dreamless sleep. I try to fake enthusiasm for whatever Nana is rambling on about in her phone call to me on the way to work but I’m sure she can tell that I’m starting to spiral. Alex can tell that today is one of those days so he asks me if I’m good and when I grunt at him he keeps his distance. God, I’m an ass but I’m obviously not good and I just can’t talk to him about it. Nobody really understands except the boys that I was with when it happened and several of them are dead now. I’m supposed to be their leader and I feel like I should have my shit together. My nightmares continue to worsen throughout the week and I feel like I overcompensate by working harder or exerting myself in more difficult physical pursuits in hopes of tiring my body and my brain out. I forced myself to run four additional miles on Friday even though my leg quickly protested. I focused on pushing through the pain and ended up having to ice my leg after work.

Friday evening finally rolls around, and Emma shows up at the house as planned with a little overnight bag in tow and homemade banana pudding. I’m cooking us some chicken and veggies out back on the grill when she arrives and I feel like I calm a bit just being in her presence. She still looks absolutely adorable as she shows up wearing comfortable clothes-a tank top and soft shorts. I love that she’s feeling relaxed enough with me to just be her most authentic self. After we eat, I fill my belly up with her decadent dessert and I swear I see stars. She’s quite the chef; as if she needed any more of a direct line to my belly or my heart. Assuming she’s still on her period, I ask her if she’s feeling alright and she nods but doesn’t offer more. I suggest we get in bed and watch a movie and she gleefully agreed. We get all cozied up in bed and she chooses a rom-com to put on. Not my first choice, but I’ll do anything to make her smile like that. It’s nice having someone other than myself warm my bed. We fall asleep easily tangled in each other and I’m relieved that I have no nightmares. Maybe Emma is the cure to my nightmares? Or did I really succeed in tiring myself out enough that I slept too hard to dream. Either way, I’m not complaining.

Saturday morning. I wake up at my usual time and smile to myself at finally getting a decent night of sleep. I lay in bed watching my girl dream before I decide to get up and go for a run. If it’s the exercise that helped me sleep last night, I’m not going to miss the opportunity to do it again. I leave a little note on Emma’s nightstand and decide to only run two miles today so I don’t fuck up my leg more than I probably already have. When I get back home, Emma is still a mess of hair and sheets and I can tell that she never missed me. Her hair is halfway across her face, one of her breasts is almost spilling out of her twisted tank top, and the covers are tangled all in her legs which brings a smile to my face. For someone so effortlessly beautiful, she’s kind of a mess when she sleeps and I can’t help but find that to be one of the most endearing things ever. I attempt to take a quick shower and am surprised when ice cold hands wrap around my stomach as my eyes are closed under the spray of the water and I jump like a cat. 

“Damn woman! Your hands are ice cubes.” I say as she laughs uncontrollably.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She says as she hugs me from behind. 

“I woke up and heard the shower running so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.” 

“Always, join me Sugar. My favorite showers are the ones with you.” I tell her as I turn around to see her. She’s got her beautiful hair tied up in a bun on top of her head and I shift her so that the water runs down her body to warm her up. I spy her adjust the temperature higher and I can’t help myself.

“What is it with women taking showers equivalent to the heat of lava?” She smiles.

“We are colder than you are. Gotta warm up somehow.” She presses a sweet kiss to my lips before turning around and washing her body. I can’t help but stand there like a creep watching her but I’ll never turn down an opportunity to see her wet and soapy.

“I hope you don’t mind that I hijacked your shower.” She smiled sweetly.

“Darlin’, I was done anyway. Now I’m just here for the show.” I arch my eyebrow at her as she spies my obvious erection.

“Let me help you.” She seductively suggests.

“I can help us both.” I offer but she shakes her head.

“Still on my period.” She replies without making eye contact.

“So?”

“We can’t have sex when I’m on my period!” She looks completely shocked.

“Says who? You know, sex actually helps relieves cramps.”  

“But..I might get blood on your…”

“Dick? What’s your point?”

“Isn’t that gross?” 

“Sugar, I told ya, I’m a man. A little blood isn’t going to scare me off. Now if you’re not interested because you don’t feel well or you just don’t want too, I have no problem with that. But, if you’re not interested because you think I’m going to be grossed out or something, I promise I won’t be. You can have me anytime you want, Sweetness. There’s no pressure either way. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I won’t mention it again.”

“Maybe give me some time to come around to the idea of it. I’ve never really considered it as an option.”

“Sure thing, babygirl.”

“You are something else, Bear. You mean it when you said I can have you anytime I want?”

“Mmhmm.” I say as her fingertips trail down my abdomen and she wraps her hand around my throbbing cock.

“Can I taste you?”

“Always, but don’t feel like you have too. I’ll be alright if not.”

“I want too.” She says before pushing me towards the shower bench and taking me in her mouth. In no time at all, I’m coming down her throat after receiving one of the best blowjobs of my life. She has my legs trembling from the stimulation and I can’t help but caress her cheek and kiss her gently when I come back to reality.

“my EmKay.” I whisper as I kiss her tenderly.

“Your EmKay?” She asks. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Funny, I don’t remember being asked to be yours.” She haughtily replies.

“Ya’ ain’t going to make this easy on me, are ya?” Shit, what am I doing. I should have thought this through. She shouldn't want to be with me. The unreal blowjob has me not thinking clearly.

“Now why would I do that?” She retorts with a smile. I palm her cheek so that she’s looking right at me.

“Will you be my woman?” I ask seriously. Fuck it. Why not?

“Only if you’re my man.” 

“Well, I’ve been told that I’m a bear, but I’ll be your man too.” I joke before pressing my lips against Emma’s in a feverish kiss.

As the water gets cold, we finally climb out and get dressed for the day. I decide to take Emma out for breakfast at the diner in town before we go in search of furniture for her guest bedroom. Her parents are arriving next weekend and it was adorable when she shyly asked me if I’d be willing to meet them. I assured her that I’d be happy too and to just let me know when.

We spend a few hours at the furniture store where Emma purchases a matching bedroom set before going to a mattress store and trying out all of the mattresses to determine which would be a good purchase for her guest bedroom. They are able to deliver it same day which is nice so we pick a time for it to arrive that afternoon. We then head to a department store so she can pick out curtains, bed linens, and other odds and ends that I’m told a room requires like lamps and decorations. Being a single man for the majority of my adulthood that was mostly away in the military, I didn’t realize how much work women put into buying all of this shit. Why does she need the guest bath towels to match the hand towel in the bathroom? Or all of the little knick-knack items she bought to go on the dresser? I’m even more confused when she was discussing bed trains? No bed skirts. I’ve slept on friends couches without even a blanket but she’s really rolling out the red carpet for her parents. It’s a bit concerning if they are expecting all of this from their daughter who has lived here for under two months. Maybe they don’t expect it and she’s just trying to show them that she’s a capable adult who plans on settling here. I watch as she spends a small fortune trying to get everything in order for their visit. It’s obvious that she values their opinions. What if they don’t like me? I’m certainly different from the preppy type of guy that they’re used to seeing her with. I’m kind of rough around the edges and although I think I’m pretty smart, I certainly don’t hold advanced degrees. I’m broken from my thoughts when Emma asks my opinion about curtains. It’s sweet that she wants my opinion but I’m a fish out of water when it comes to decorating.

We load up all of the stuff and head back to Emma’s house where I get started hanging curtains as we wait on the furniture and mattress delivery. Emma orders us pizza and we munch on pizza and beer for a while. I’m regretting all of my additional workouts after I finally get the bed put together and the mattress put on it. Emma tried to help but she’s so little I didn’t want her to hurt herself so I ended up just man-handling it myself. She had washed the new bedding and put everything together before we took a look at it and she dove across the top of the bed. Emma patted the space beside her and I laid down next to her on top of the comforter. 

“I’m fucking exhausted and I didn’t even lift the heavy stuff.” She exhaled.

“I didn’t realize it was so much work to put together a bedroom. You sure know what you’re doing though.”

“Thank you. I just pick what I like. I couldn’t have done it all without you though, so thank you, baby. I can’t wait to have them visit and see that I’ve got my shit together here. That I’m not some dumb kid who needs rescuing. I’m able to handle myself.” Ahh, so I was right about that. It’s about proving herself to her parents.

“I think they’ll be impressed, Sugar. I know I am.” I smile at her before yawning.

She kisses my lips before scratching my beard gently. 

“Can we go back to yours, shower and then go to sleep? I’m dead on my feet.” She asks as she stands up and fluffs the new pillows. Why are there like 5 pillows that will just get thrown on the floor? Seems wasteful.

“You still want to come back to mine with me?”

She nods. “I want to be with you and the pups. Since they are at yours, it wouldn’t make sense to get them and come back here. I always sleep really good with you…Unless you’re too tired for a sleep over.” She says sheepishly and I wrap my arms around her.

“Nothing could be better than having my girl in my bed with me.” I tell her because I’m beginning to believe it’s the truth. “Let’s go.” 

We turn out all of the lights and lock up before heading back to mine. Emma’s car is still parked out front from where she left it and it makes me happy that she wants to be here with me. There’s a summer storm approaching and the wind has picked up which has Emma’s hair twirling in the breeze. I pull the patio cushions inside when I let the dogs out to do their business. After a quick shower because we are both too tired to do anything but clean ourselves, we do our nighttime routines before climbing into bed. Emma snuggles next to me with her head on my chest and I’m confident that it’s going to be a good night as we drift off to sleep.

It’s hot, but more than just hot. It’s sweltering. I can feel the sweat rolling down my chest and my back. It’s the type of unbearable heat that has your clothes sticking to your skin the instant you walk out of the mess hall. Then you add your gear, and the added weight from your gear plus your sweat soaked clothes is a certain feeling that I’ll never forget. I smell the smoke of an explosion further in the distance. We have our orders and it’s my job to lead our special forces team in to execute our orders exactly like planned. The problem with that is that most things never go as planned. It would be easy for this to be a cookie cutter mission where we get in and out and go back to base and fuck around for the rest of the afternoon. No, this will require me thinking on my feet at every turn. It’s what I’m trained for, hell, I’m the best which is why I’m the captain. I’ve got seven men with me whose lives rely on me assessing our situation and giving correct orders. They are sons, husbands, fathers, brothers, and friends who have people waiting on them at home. Each order I give is weighted by the knowledge that I’m responsible for them. We’re crouched in different positions behind the old dilapidated building that the informant said our guy would be in. The sun is glaring across our faces but we’re in the best position we could be in for this mission. We’ve been after this specific hostile for months and never been this close to him before. We can hear men inside the building, yelling in Arabic and moving around so we must remain completely silent. If we can hear them, they could hear us. We are ghosts that can’t be seen or heard but must work as a team for this to go smoothly. If one person spots us, it will turn into a close-range gun fight that I can’t imagine we will all win. I inhale deeply and even though there is dust on every inch of myself and the ground, I try to focus my thoughts. 

As I am about to give orders to direct my guys to move on to the next step of our plan, I hear the tell-tale whistle of a bullet zipping through the air. I swivel to the left with my gun and look for the insurgent. I can’t see anyone but the bullet buries itself in the left shoulder of Waites across the way from me. We were fucking set up. I swing my gun back around and that’s when it happens, I hear the bullet and feel it explode into my lower left thigh at the same time blood spews from my friend, Goodwin’s head who had crouched beside me when I stood to look for the shooter. My leg gives out and I instantly drop down into the dirt to where I’m level with Goodwin’s face and it’s obvious, he was killed instantly. His eyes are still opened and he has a massive wound to the head. Anthony. Fuck. His girlfriend is expecting a baby girl in a few months. My leg is burning from the inside out but my adrenaline spike helps me ignore the pain and I grab my gun and instantly start shooting towards the rooftop where I believe the sniper might be. I hear Brown screaming before I realize he’s got Waites against the building and is yelling into the radio for help. I watch as insurgents start coming out of the building we were casing and I start taking them out. Lowell goes down. Setas is either hurt or attempting to provide aid to Lowell. I can’t tell but I never stop shooting. Ramirez is also trying to find the source of the ambush with his own gun. Bullets are flying, many from my own gun as I empty the clip into the only building the sniper could have been on, Browns pleas for backup, along with Waites heavy gurgling breaths fill my ears. I feel a hand on my arm and flinch.

            “Austin! Captain…Captain Syverson. Look at me.” Two hands on either side of my face help me focus in. “St..Stand down. You are safe, the threat has been eliminated. Your superiors have given orders to return to base for further instruction. Do you understand?” 

I blink against the water that’s dripping down my face. Emma?

“My men. The injured men in my unit. Where?”

“They are at base getting medical. Captain, I need you to confirm that you understand me.”

I blink and then nod slowly. “Roger that.” I mutter distractedly. I look around. I’m in the backyard of my house, leaning against the brick exterior in my underwear. I have my pistol tucked in the back of the waistband of my boxers and I’m wearing the boots I leave by the back door. In my hands I’m clutching my old hunting rifle that I keep on the top shelf of my closet. Shit. I’ve done it again. I’ve had a PTSD nightmare, but this is so much worse because Emma is here to witness it. I look over at her. She’s crouching on her knees in front of me wearing nothing but my water-soaked t-shirt and panties while she’s barefoot in the mud. Water is dripping from the ends of her hair from the rain that’s pouring down on us. She looks terrified and concerned. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” My throat aches either from unshed tears or maybe I was yelling earlier.

“Austin, baby, are you back?”

I nod. “Emma, I’m so sorry.” I mutter as tears mix with the rain that drips down my face. This is what I was afraid would happen if I got close to her. If I let her in. I would relax and then my past would quite literally present itself.

“Baby, don’t be. You’re okay, we’re okay.” She tells me as she reaches towards my face that’s now aimed at the ground.

“Aika?” 

“I left her inside. I know you said she could help but I wasn’t able to tell if your rifle was loaded and I didn’t want her startling you and there being an accident.” 

Jesus. She was afraid I’d shoot my own dog, because she’s right, I was nowhere near my right mind. Here we are over six months since my last flashback yet this was the most involved PTSD episode I’ve ever had. Thank fuck I keep my ammunition locked and separate from my guns for situations like this. 

She stands and reaches to help me up but I can’t let her help me stand. My leg feels as though it has been shot just yesterday but that could be a result of me crouching on my knees in freezing rain outside in the middle of the night, not just the psychological pain from my flashback. 

“Come on baby.” She takes the rifle from my hand and I don’t protest. I follow her silently back to the house. The air conditioning on our soaked skin has both of our bodies covered in goose bumps. Aika bounds to me whining and crying and I sit down in a chair from the table and run my hands through her thick fur. I bury my face into her back and focus on breathing. My palm clutches my leg that’s radiating phantom pain from where I got shot. Emma appears next to me with a towel but hesitates. 

“Can I help you clean up a bit?” She gestures with the towel.

I nod and she leans down and starts wiping the mud off of my legs. 

“Sugar, I…”

“Baby, nothing needs to be said. I’m okay, and you are going to be. Would you take a warm shower with me?” I look at her and want to just burst into tears. How is she so kind and understanding after what I just did? After what I could have done?

“Please?” She urges and I nod. I follow her to the master bathroom and watch as she turns the water on. Aika stays close and sits down behind me in the bathroom floor. I have no idea what time it is in the night or early morning or how long she’s been awake dealing with me. Emma pulls out two fresh towels for us and then whips the sodden shirt off of her torso before removing her panties. She looks at me and then slowly and gently eases my soaked boxer briefs down my legs before taking my hand and pulling for me to get in the shower. Once I step in, steam surrounds me and I take a deep breath. I’m exhausted, flashbacks always take the energy out of me and it’s not like I’ve been sleeping great this past week. Emma begins lathering a wash cloth with soap and gently starts cleaning me. I stand there perfectly still and let her do what she wants as I attempt to think of anything that I could say to make this situation better. I’m aching with embarrassment. Once she washes me, she quickly washes herself before turning around and caressing her hand on my cheek. She leans down and picks up my wrists that were laying limp by my sides and wraps them around her waist before putting her own around my neck. My eyes are aimed down focusing on the suds swirling around the shower drain.

“Baby, look at me.” She says with the sincerest and worried look on her face and that’s when my resolve breaks. I bury my face into her neck as the hot tears stream from my eyes. I can’t seem to stop them and I ache when I hear myself let out a sob that sounds so painful and broken even to my own ears. Emma tightens her arms around me and guides me back to the bench that we once used for a much different form of intimacy. Emma curls herself around me and holds me tightly while I fully break down. Once my breath starts to come easier, I carefully pull my head from her shoulder and try to clean my face up.

“Let’s dry off and lay down.” She says as she turns off the water and starts toweling me off. I gently take the towel from her, not wanting to be babied but not wanting to seem ungrateful. Once we dry off, Emma hands me some boxers and she tosses on a dry shirt and panties on before we sit on the bed. It’s silent and I feel like I have to say something.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be thinkin’ but I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I woke you, scared you and I’m sorry I’m so fucked up. I completely understand if this is the last time I see you.” I say quietly and she looks shocked.

“Austin, I’m not going anywhere. This is what relationships are about. Holding each other through the good and bad. I’m not scared and you’re not fucked up. You’re haunted and although I don’t know the details of it, I want to help you through it. Even if you don’t want my help, I’m not leaving you.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should be better. I survived, Damnit! I shouldn’t have any problems. Goodwin, Lowell, Waites, they are the ones who died. I just got shot in my stupid fucking leg after leading them to their deaths!” I sob.

“You are allowed to have problems. Their deaths are hard on you but you are not responsible for it. I don’t know what happened, but I know it’s not your fault.”

“The informant set us up, we were ambushed. Goodwin, God. Goodwin got shot right in front of me. I watched the life drain from his eyes. He has a little girl that he’s never met. If I had questioned the mission from my superiors or done more digging on the informant, they would all be alive right now. I had to look at their family members at their funerals and I’ll never forget the grief from their loved ones. Goodwin’s pregnant girlfriend, Lowell’s widow, Waites’ mom. I still see them sobbing over their caskets in my mind. I didn’t deserve to live when they didn’t get too.” I finally say out loud. I take deep breaths attempting to calm my body from going into another spiral.

“Bear.” Emma reaches for me.

“It’s been years and I still get like this. Hell, it might be getting worse. I don’t think this is something I’ll just get over. I’m too fucked up, Emma. You deserve someone who doesn’t have these types of demons.” My eyes blink heavily.

“You are not fucked up. I deserve you because you treat me better than I’ve ever been treated before.” My eyes droop and I know it’s a result of the flashback. When I have them, my body goes through the trauma all over again so when the adrenaline finally stops coursing through my body, I basically crash.

“Love, you look exhausted. Can you try to sleep for me?” She asks and gently pushes for me to lay down. My head is resting between her breasts as she lays back on her back. We’ve never laid like this before but it’s comforting.

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving. Aika’s here and so is Mills.” She tells me while caressing my head but my eyes are already closed, too heavy to fight staying open longer. I wrap my arm around her waist and within moments, I’m deeply asleep soothed by the steady rhythm of Emma’s heartbeat as she caresses my scalp.

Part 11

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood

#henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fluff

[ibrithir-was-here]

Sandman Enchanted AU

So i watched Disenchanted today and it was wonderful, and made me super nostalgic for Enchanted, and since my brain has been on Sandman for two months of course it went "do a Sandman Enchanted AU"

Now, would it have made so much more sense to make it a Hope Godling AU, where Hob is the happy singing Endless who gets thrown into the real world to meet Grumpy Human Dream? Yes, of course it would--

But consider the absolute crazy hilarity of an AU where, after Dream's ruby is broken and his power releasesed something goes wrong, and he gets split into two--his dark melonchaly spooky Nightmare Half---and his whimsical, hopeful and actually happy Daydream Half

And the Daydream half gets shot across reality to the New Inn, and Hob Gadling is now stuck playing confused and rather concerned host to a singing dancing Daydream, who's free of his melancholy for the first time in years and is warping reality to make it into a Disney musical eachtime he laughs, which is often.

Hob is absolutely at a loss as to what to do, especially since his Stranger is acting incredibly stranger then usual--and he's smiling at Hob, constantly. Its a good thing Hob's immortal or he's sure he would have died from that smile alone 100 times by now. And as much as he loves seeing his Stranger so happy and affectionate he's trying hard not to take advantage of that by letting his own deep feelings loose as it's clear something is off--

A fact confirmed by Joanna Constantine (who Hob also knows, we'll put her in to fill in Nancy/Morgan's role basically as Hob doesn't have a fiance or a kid) who makes it clear that yeah this isn't how Dream usually is and something must have gone wrong with him trying to get his tools back.

So Hob's trying really hard to be a gentleman and not get too swept off his feet by Daydream--who really isn't making it easy cuz he's so sweet and open and incrediblely affectionate.

The "That's How You Know" moment--which is Daydream trying to get Hob to open up about who it is he has a crush on because how can this person know Hob likes them if he never says-- is horrendously difficult for Hob to hold back just blurting it out, especially with the reality warping 'Open your heart and sing' stuff going on. And he's trying the whole time not to join in the singing.

Meanwhile the Corinthian--who has a combined Nathaniel/Narissa role--has learned about Dream's current condition and determiend that Daydream will be much easier to off--keeps trying to stab the pair and keeps getting trampled by background dancers and such XD

So Hob and Daydream keep getting closer and closer while Joanna tries to find out whats going on, and Daydream is just having a wonderful time, as is Hob, despite his misgivings.

Nightmare meanwhile, is barely holding onto human shape and is very put out about this latest inconvenience--especially since it turns out that Daydream holds the majority of his power to talk to animals, so everything Matthew says to him comes out as more "Caw" then words.

Nightmare finds Daydream eventually and tells him they have to join back together for the good of the Dreaming and the Waking--things are getting more and more unsettled each time a musical number happens-- but Daydream begs to have one real date with Hob before they do, a date where he can just be happy and not mired down by all the self loathing and fear and such that Normal Dream has. Nightmare reluctantly agrees because they wont be able to join back together unless they both agree, so they all end up going to a dance or something thats happening

Daydream has a wonderful time, and so does Hob, who of course has fallen absolutely in love with this side of his Stranger, and will be sorry to see Daydream go.

But Hob makes sure to draw Nightmare intona dance a well "this is your date too really you get a dance too" and during that time tries to tell Nightmare that he loves /all/ parts of him, not just the happy one. Nightmare of course is less then convinced, and of course goes into 1889 mood all over again, saying that he neither wants nor needs Hob's love (liar)

Which is just when the Corinthian has finally managed to snag hold of Daydream, and seeing the current situation, tells them "Look at how upset Nightmare is, he's embarrassed by all this lovey dovey stuff. Always has been always will be. If you go back together Dream will be so humiliated by all the gushy stuff you've done that he'll never go and see Hob Gadling again...unless you dont join back together..."

So when Nightmare comes storming up demanding that they leave and rejoin now Daydream refuses--but reality starts to break down again as the separation deepens by this refusal, things warping and twisting between fantastical daydreams and horrific nightmares as the clock starts to chime down. And finally Daydream starts to break down themself as Nightmare tells them to look around at what's happening, this is why they can't let go, why they have to do their duty, not give into their own daydreams--and Daydream knows that Nightmare is right--and their heart breaks.

And Daydream starts to fade away, something that delights the Corinthian who's managed to stay hidden as he knows the loss will ultimately undue Dream forever.

But just as Daydream can feel sorrow, Nightmare can feel remorse. And he knows that there's only one way for Daydream-- the side of the Prince of Stories that is the embodiment of happy endings and the power of a true love's kiss--to be saved, so he asks Hob to give Daydream the one daydream dearest to him...

After the kiss Daydream and Hob have a tearful goodbye, thanking eachother for all that they've gotten to experience these last few days. Then Daydream finally agrees to reunite with Nightmare. The two come together, the world comes back into balance, and Dream comes back awkwardly into form.

Dream gives an awkward thanks and farewellnto Hob, telling him he needs to go after the Corinthian, and disappears, leaving Hob alone on the dance floor, with a bittersweet smile on his face.

But of course this has a happy ending, and after Dream deals with all that stuff and gets a talking to by Death and has time to process all the memories hw made with Hob as Daydream...he finally gets up the courage to head to the New Inn again, maybe while it’s raining so we can get the rain kiss scene…

And things work out Happily Ever After…

Edit: Now with fic!

#my art #dreamling #I was possessed by the muse and spent hours drawing these xD #enchanted #disenchanted #enchanted AU #sandman au #dream of the endless #lord morpheus #Morpheus #hob gadling #robert gadling #hob x dream #(his name is Robert another reason to make him the Robert role xD) #giselle #robert philip #giselle x robert #sandman #the sandman #sandman netflix #the corinthian #johanna constantine

[n0n-sen-se]

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 ❛𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬❜!

includes ;; mitsuri. gyutaro. kagaya. doma. content ;; bruises. fluff. maybe, obviously, a bit suggestive! a/n ;; ❛love bites❜ are also known as a ❛hickey❜ . i tried to include a mix of characters and reactions, hope y'all adore them as much as i do! ♡

☆☆☆ # mitsuri kanroji !

getting caught! is her absolute nightmare. she'd be talking casually to shinobu, enjoying her meal when shinobu points out ❛all those little red-marks on your neck❜ with a teasing giggle. mitsuri would be mortified. just stops talking for a second frozen- and when she remembers how the love bites got there she clamps a hand over her mouth and desperately tries to hide them with her white haori. for the next hour she'd be spluttering together excuses while shinobu tries to ice her heated face.

her thoughts! exactly the same as when someone else points them out. she gets embarrassed to the point of feeling faint. . . but once the initial shock wears off and she gets used to them. its impossible to admit to anyone else, but she likes how they look (the tiny ones are adorable) little reminders that she's loved so deeply. she likes to keep them for herself though, and covers them up with makeup when they occur (its a pretty bad cover-up. . . but it works!. . . most times)

☆☆☆ # gyutaro shabana !

getting caught! its actually hard for it to come up in 'conversation'. either nobody notices at first, because of his skin (he picks at it all the time so its not too suspicious) or nobody pays him much attention. when it does, it's daki that points it out: ❛where'd you get those hideous things from?❜. initially, gyutaro doesn't know either until it dawns on him. . . a shaky smile starts pulling at the corners of his mouth, rubbing his neck, lost in thought.

his thoughts! he's got a forearm resting above a mirror, leaning in close to his reflection to study them. i mean, they're just little bruises. no big deal. if anything, he frowns, they're ugly marks you gave him. . . that you gave him. . . ❛heh. hehheh❜ he. . . actually likes the sound of that. and although he usually loathes looking in the mirror; you know what, he actually thinks they're kinda. . . pretty.

☆☆☆ # kagaya ubuyashiki !

getting caught! its an unusual scenario. he's gathered the hashira to meet with him once more, discussing initial plans to have them all separate and patrol different areas when he hears. . . snickering? whispers and giggles folding over themselves and his voice. ❛what's got you all riled up? something important on your minds?❜ all of them will deny anything, telling him not to worry etc. its only when kagaya beckons over a poor kakushi that he learns the truth. the only indication of his reaction is the subtle lift of his brow ❛let's continue discussing the plan shall we?❜

his thoughts! he can't see them, but he feels his skin, pressing gently on the parts that are tender. its a warm revelation, like a gift that just floods his chest with sunlight. he loves them, truly, but it's better to hide them from his children, its a little. . . unsavory. he'll just bundle a white scarf underneath his kimono, draping it high above his neck in hope's he's actually covered them all.

☆☆☆ # doma !

getting caught! i mean come on- he's practically daring someone- anyone to say something about it. leaning in too close to people, bending and flaunting his neck in hopes someone will point it out. it'd be someone like gyokko that finally breaks the ice ❛doma, what are those unique markings on your skin?❜ he'd be all too happy to oblige gyokko (or anyone's) questions. always answering with a coy smirk.

his thoughts! he's obsessed with this display of affection and worships everything about it. he'd wear them with pride, sitting on his thrones with jewels and luxuries, thinking about nothing but the marks on his skin and how he must look to his worshippers (do they think they're as holy as he does?). he'd want more- a lot more. likes to just sit and stare at it sometimes, silently hoping they'd stay their forever. (of course they won't, but he can dream) disappointed when they heal.

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #imagines #x reader #headcanon #reader insert #hcs #fluff #kny mitsuri #kny gyutaro #kny ubuyashiki #kny doma #kny douma #mitsuri kanroji #gyutaro shabana #kagaya ubuyashiki #doma #upper moons #suggestive #reaction

[lixtokki]

a bad rep

pairing: chan x reader (afab) word count: 2.8k rating: 18+ warnings: overstimulation(!!!!), biting, marking, fingering, some oral. a/n: the premise is you're a serial orgasm faker. chris takes it as a challenge.

clearly, your reputation precedes you. 

word had spread around your friends that you’re a serial orgasm faker and now nobody wanted to play with you. not even your closest of friends, whom you’d occasionally fall into bed with if the mood struck. you roll your eyes, thinking maybe all your lovers past should simply be better at sex. 

you enjoy fooling around with people, the kissing, the teasing touches, the hot and heavy cab ride home — but that, unfortunately, was your pinnacle. once these guys got you in bed and naked, it was absolutely futile. you felt bad, so you made all the right noises, you clenched just right and gripped the sheets below you; the big hurrah. then, you take a bow and finish yourself off quickly while the unnamed man snores next to you. 

even your friends insisted that the problem couldn’t be every guy. and that it was just you, you’re stubborn and hard to please. and maybe they were right. 

you’d gone some weeks now without sex, relying solely on your array of toys and, of course, your own trusty fingers. and, when your friends plan another late night get together at your favourite spot in itaewon, you attend with a pitiful slump on your shoulders. 

it’s a fun night out regardless. you love your friends, but as the night draws to a close they can’t help but tease. despite the company of new people you’d somehow merged with during the night. the booth is full of fresh faces, most of them attractive and you hadn’t made a move, too scorned from one denied orgasm too many.

“can’t believe it’s 2am and y/n is still here.” 

“don’t you have an orgasm to be faking somewhere?” 

everyone laughs, you included. one of the new guys — you think his name is chris — cocks his head to the side, laughing with raised eyebrows. “orgasms to be faking?” he repeats, baffled. 

you open your mouth to answer, but your best friend, felix, jumps in before you. “apparently she’s hard to please.” he says, rolling his eyes and nudging you in the ribs with his pointy elbow. “and the problem must be that all those guys suck. every last one of them.” 

“is that right?” the supposed chris asks, looking directly at you with his tongue poking through his teeth. you meet his gaze… and immediately look away, a flash of warmth rushing over your face the instant your eyes meet. you can tell his eyes are still on you and that does nothing for the heat rising to your cheeks. 

felix continues talking though, thank fuck, and that takes chris’ heavy gaze away from you long enough for you to regain composure. “yeah. she’s a nightmare, a serial orgasm faker.” 

chris shrugs, “i dunno, i think i’m on her side.” he says, “a lot of guys just don’t know how to please a woman.” he clicks his tongue, cocky, obviously very sure of himself.

without thinking, you open your mouth, “oh and you do?” the glare chris shoots you convinces you that you made the right decision. 

your fears are balled up and tossed out of the cab window — by none other than chris. nobody is surprised when you leave together, hands hungry to roam even as you’re still walking out of the bar together. the journey between the side of the road to your apartment was nothing but a hazy, neon coated blur; a mash of lips and teeth and restless hands tugging at a vanilla scented shirt. 

this part was always your favourite, but thoughts of a disappointing finish were far, far from the front of your mind. chris took care of that; his deft hands, expert, just like his mouth. 

he barely waits until you’re inside the apartment before he rips your shirt open, buttons scattering over the entranceway. he pushes you flush against the door once it closes, pressing his knee in between your thighs and groping your freshly exposed breasts. “so,” he breathes, forehead pressed to the door, “where is this hard to please girl i apparently went home with?” he dips his hand into your bra, tweaking one soft nipple to full hardness. 

“oh i’m sure you’ll see her. later.” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around chris’ wide shoulders and dragging your crotch roughly against his thigh. 

“yeah? sure about that?” chris murmurs, his lips teasing against your ear. before you can respond, in a surely snarky manner, he dips his teeth into your neck, favouring a spot just above your collarbones; he messily sucks your skin through his teeth with a force that promises to leave a mark. 

you’re about to protest. something about people seeing. but chris’ teeth find another spot, closer to your jawline, and sink in, nipping and sucking at your skin until he’s sure a hickey is left for all to see. you moan, your insides clenching at the feeling of being marked; and, desperate for your hands to touch something, you comb your fingers through chris’ unruly, blonde hair. 

“bedroom.” you say, suddenly hooking both legs around his waist. chris has no problems holding you up, even after you peel yourselves away from the front door. he carries you with ease, his hands cupped generously around your ass cheeks. 

this was where things could go so wrong for you tonight. chris drops you atop the bed, taking in the view of you below him; sitting politely, your ripped shirt exposing your tits, the faux innocent look you watch him with. he breathes out a laugh. the gall of you. “don’t give me that look. like you don’t get fucked here every weekend.” attaching his fingers to your chin, he tilts your head upwards, examining your neck. he tuts. “do you let every guy that comes up here leave hickeys on your neck?” 

“n-no…” you admit with a pout, refusing to break the eye contact. your response seems to ignite something in chris, he flashes a dangerous grin your way, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb. the very contradiction of the sordid gaze he was watching you with. 

“just me, yeah?” he asks, his voice gentle, quiet. hypnotising, almost. 

“just you.” 

those words were music to chris’ ears; placated, he slides his hand down from your jaw to your throat and he takes a firm hold of you. he balances you perfectly upon the line of pleasure and pain, watching as a faint, red tinge fills your cheeks. he dips to your level, pulling you in for a kiss, his pace getting off to a slow, heavenly start. 

from there he guides you backwards onto the bed. he releases your neck in favour of unbuckling his belt and ridding himself of his shoes and jeans. he removes his shirt in record time, exposing his toned stomach and built chest to you; he definitely looked better than any guy you’d brought back here. 

following suit, you wriggle out of your skirt and toss your own shirt to a forgotten corner of the room, suddenly so fucking aware of chris’ eyes on you. you ogle back, eyes hooded, inviting him in. you drag your gaze down his body, eyes landing curiously on the mass inside his boxers. 

and when your eyes get too comfortable, chris suddenly climbs atop you, trapping you between his thighs, sheathed cock grazing your stomach. “wonder how many times i can make you cum in one night.” he brings your hand to his mouth and peppers kisses over your knuckles. 

“you sound confident.” you respond, a humorous lilt to your voice. and chris laughs, loud, boisterous — it suits him. 

“i’m pretty confident. considering you’ve already soaked your underwear.” he states, pressing a finger into your soaked panties. “oh my gosh. i’ve barely touched you.” 

you toss your head to the side, embarrassed, defiant. but you have nothing to say in your defence. instead, you let your eyes flutter shut as chris’ fingers begin to rub you through your underwear, pressing hard on your clit, tugging a sultry gasp from your throat; your voice, unwilling to speak, unfolds for him in shaky moans. they tumble carelessly from you as chris slips two fingers into your underwear, finally touching your wetness, gliding through your folds, rubbing circles around your clit. 

“why don’t we take these off?” comes his husky demand, disguised as nothing more than a translucent suggestion. he tugs the waistband down, down and off, quickly attaching his fingers to your pussy, like too much time had elapsed already. 

he remains perched on top of you, merely enjoying the view of you coming undone underneath him. with two fingers, he dips to your entrance, chuckling when you clench in preparation for penetration that never comes. 

“come on, already?” he tuts, moving his fingers back to your clit, “wanna play with you more.” then, he promptly dives downward, aiming for your chest; fingers still working you slowly while his mouth plants messy kisses all over your breasts. he bites at the supple skin above your tits, sucking enough to leave a mark — then he finds a blank spot and repeats, repeats until your entire chest is littered in smatters of red and purple. your fingers find his hair again, weaving through his curls, gripping him, pulling him closer, arching your back up, melding your bodies together. at the very least, this round of hickeys are easily concealed. 

chris relents, satisfied with his work. he pulls back, admiring your chest. now, his fingers lackadaisically play with your pussy, stroking you gently, in no particular rhythm. “how you holding up down there?” he asks, like he’s asking a friend how their fucking day is going. 

“fine. just fine.” you attempt nonchalance. either way chris beats you at your own game. 

his pace picks up all of a sudden, two fingers hungrily sliding inside you, curving into your form like a perfect fit; an unexpected shriek escapes you, sharp and genuine. you don’t have to open your eyes to know chris is sporting the smuggest grin on his face. 

“just fine, yeah?” he asks, not waiting for an answer and pounding his fingers straight against your g-spot again. wanting to fill his ears with the sound of you completely losing it. 

you clench around him, gripping the bedsheets underneath you — because if you kept at his hair, he probably wouldn’t have any left. you desperately try to conceal how close you are already but chris seems to always be one step ahead of you. “no way are you close already.” he eyes you suspiciously, stuffing a third finger into your pussy. “if you’re faking this, you’re a pretty good fucking actress.” 

undeniably, that feeling pooling in your stomach and between your legs was that sweet climax you’d been chasing for so long now. it was so close. so close. you reach down, grappling furiously for chris’ spare hand until you can thread your fingers together, clinging to him for dear life. 

then. a white flash takes over your vision, you arch your back, throwing your head backwards into the plush sheets below, letting the euphoric wave flood your entire body. you rock your hips frantically against chris’ hand, riding out this orgasm for as long as you possibly can.

when the room stops spinning and your thrusts have slowed to a leisurely pace against, chris leans in close to you, “one.” he says. 

you open your eyes with intent to question him but. suddenly you’re overcome as he starts fucking his fingers into your cunt again, relentless. you cry out, stumbling towards another orgasm at full speed. chris shimmies down the bed and when you wrench your eyes open to see why, you’re met with the view of his mouth hovering inches away from your pussy. 

“oh fuck— i’m so. i’m so sensitive,” you whine as he takes a cautionary lick at your clit. it felt like fire shooting through all your veins, exiting out of your mouth in the most frenzied of pleasured screams. 

chris only hums against your heat, wrapping his lips around your swollen little clit and flicking his tongue over it, pressing you like a button. 

your breaths fall ragged now, tired as you hurtle towards your next orgasm; your moans turn into whingeing whines and all you can do is repeatedly tell chris how sensitive you are while he shows no signs of listening, rutting his fingers into you and lapping at your pussy with full lips and a swift tongue.

orgasm #2 hits you like a train. you seize chris’ face with your thighs, trapping him in place as you thrust your cunt against his mouth. the shrieks that leave your mouth will surely reach ears further than chris, but you’re too far gone to give a shit. overstimulated, your voice shakes out the remnants of the orgasm and your body trembles against the aftershocks. chris removes his fingers, dutifully shoving them in his mouth and cleaning himself up. 

“two.” he says, once he’s done tasting you on his fingers. with your eyes closed, you don’t see his hands dipping to his erection, still hidden in his boxers. he palms himself through the fabric, hovering over you, breathing in the scent you leave behind after an orgasm. “what to do with you next?” he ponders aloud, successfully garnering your attention. 

“i— i…” your eyes open, met with his gaze, dark and inviting. you glance down to see his hand busy with his cock and you moan at the mere sight. “sensitive.” you whimper. but the bulge under those boxers can’t help but pique your interest. 

chris is quick to tug his underwear down, releasing his cock from its confines. he looks at you, then to his cock, then back at you. “too sensitive for my cock?”

“no!” you cry out, devastated at the thought of not being full to the brim of his thick shaft, “please. again.” 

too horny to tease you further, chris relents, hooking one of your thighs around his waist and lining himself up with your hole. he slaps his cock against your clit, just once, testing your sensitivity — you tremor in response, moaning in wobbly falsetto. chris seems pleased enough, immediately pushing the head of his cock inside you, wincing as your walls clench around him. you’re so tight. he has to edge his way carefully through your cunt, coercing your pussy around his cock. 

“fucking hell, you’re tight.” chris grunts through gritted teeth, putting all of his strength into holding himself back from fucking you absolutely raw.  

when he’s fully buried inside you, all he can do is hold himself still, your tightness driving him fucking crazy. he’s barely even noticed the fucked out mess you’re becoming below him. 

“so full. so close.” you whine, wrapping your arms around chris’ chest, bringing him flush against your own, feeling his ragged breaths push against your breasts. “wanna cum again.” 

“you wanna cum around my cock, yeah?“ chris says, his voice strained as he holds back his own moans, “can you even handle cumming again?” 

the answer is no, you’re about one hard thrust away from completely falling apart. but you nod your head, yes, yes, yes. you want, need more of him. “yeah. can. please fuck me.” 

needing no more instruction, chris pulls out entirely before ramming inside you again. the feeling of your tight cunt spasming around him has him moaning loud and unabashedly into your ear. “shit. shit. shit.” his sentences quickly ebb into unintelligible curses. “so. fucking. tight.” 

he repeats. pulling out before bucking his hips into you harshly. and again. again. his thrusts are messy, uncontrolled. you feel so fucking good around him that he can barely see. together, you attempt to fuck to any sort of rhythm, but you are too fucked out to move and he’s too pussy dumb to think.

you jut together like mismatched puzzle pieces, occasionally clicking together before snapping out of place. your cunt throbs from overexertion and yet you’re chasing another orgasm with chris’ following close behind. 

“chris. i’m gonna cum.” you wail, hooking both of your legs around him with a vice grip. 

“me. too. fuck.” chris growls, letting his face fall next to yours, fucking you relentlessly, “where do you want me?” 

“on me. anywheeeere—“ your sentence stutters into a choked moan as your orgasm hits you full force in the face, with chris still fucking you, vaulting you over the precipice and into a new realm of pleasure. 

your body writhes uncontrollably under the pressure of another core shaking orgasm and, suddenly, chris pulls out, spilling himself all over your cunt. he grits his teeth and lets out an almighty shriek into the mattress below, his body falling limp against yours. 

“three,” he pants, lazily kissing your neck, “and to think i’m not even nearly finished.”

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan smut #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz smut #mine #cham

[sofasoap]

Holding you

Pairing : John Price x F!Reader

Summary: After months apart from each other, nothing better than waking up with the love of your life, and helping him with his.... "little problem".

You can either read it as a standalone, or as part of my Mini MacTavish verse, continuation after Come back to me.

Warning: Explicit. Smut, slight angst.

I apologise for any inaccuracies describing military related stuff.

A/N : This was an extension of a little midnight drabble I wrote a while ago thanks to my midnight muse @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world. I hope you will enjoy this Price ramble.

“masterlist” 

You slowly stirred awake as you feel someone gently caressing your cheek. 

Eyes fluttering open, you saw the beautiful blue eyes of your husband, gazing down at you lovingly.

"Morning love." He greeted you in his morning husky voice." Had a good sleep??

"Hmmm hmm." You close your eyes with a smile, snuggling closer to him, savouring his gentle touch. Oh how you have missed him. 

You haven’t seen each other for months. Seven months, fourteen days. But who's counting?

Apart from being absolute workaholics, fate seems to be determined to interfere with the two of you. From the tumultuous courtship, near death experiences, now trying to keep the marriage intact with so much time apart from each other.

When you are home from your deployment, he is already flying halfway across the world, ready for his next mission. When he arrived back in the UK, you were on your way to meet up with your team with KorTac.

Communication was hard. A little ten second voicemail in your inbox will be the last thing you heard from him for weeks. And a quick “I love you” text send out to him before going into a black op mission.

You will always find a little handwritten post-it note, with his worn shirt on the kitchen table when you come home between missions. John isn’t a man with many words, but you can still feel his emotions conveyed through the short sentences, how much he misses you, how much he loves you and wishing you were with him. 

Sometimes you will wake up from a nightmare, dreaming of Laswell showing up at your front door, with John’s dog tag and his personal belongings. One look at her face you knew what had happened.

You cried yourself to sleep every time, wearing his shirt, curling up, inhaling the faint residue cigar and gunpowder scent and trying to imagine his strong arm around you.

It was only two days ago you received a call from Laswell. Seeing her name showing up on your caller ID sends your mind into an endless spiral. She never calls you unless it was for any urgent business. Or an emergency. Or something has happened to one of the men. Or…. 

You always wake up right before she opens her mouth and delivers the bad news,silent scream that is stuck in your throat, heart pounding, tears streaming down your face,panic sets in until you realise you are in your own cot, in the middle of a shared tent on a mission.

Horangi and König will always know what happened the next day, with your red rimmed and dark baggy eyes.  None of them are the type that will give you verbal comfort, but a bag of Korean snacks which you mentioned once that was your favourite and a little tin of handmade sweets will appear on your cot at the end of the day.

You always smile at their thoughtfulness. 

“Are you going to pick up that call?” Horangi looking over your shoulder, “ Laswell? Must be important.”

Flexing your hand, you shook your head, trying to dispel the negative thought that was muddling your brain before nodding. 

Answering with a wavering voice, grabbing tight to the wedding ring underneath your shirt that is chained together with your dog tag, expecting the worst.

You must have sounded more distraught than expected, “John is fine. I am just letting you know the men are on their way back, they should land by late afternoon.“ She reassured you immediately. 

“Go. Just submit the report by this weekend.” König pushed you out of the office as soon as he overheard the conversation. He knew how anxious you were to get back home. 

You took the first flight you can get your hand on to the UK, drove straight from the airport to the base at Credenhill, despite your own weariness, you want to be there to greet your husband as soon as he lands.

Pulling into the car park of the base, you caught a glimpse of the helicopter coming into landing. 

You don’t know how long the two of you have been standing there for, until the other men came over and gave you a slight pat on the back, interrupting the reunion.

The guard at the gate recognises you and you run towards the landing pad as soon as they process and issue you with a visitor’s pass.

You felt your heart going to burst the moment you saw him walking out from the helo, finally being able to see him physically, safe and sound.

“JOHN!” you yelled out to him, catching his attention. Turning around, surprise was evident on his face as you barreled into his embrace. Grabbing tight onto his vest, you burst out crying. All the months contained worry, fear, doubts and longing emotions released all in one go. You heard John murmuring words of assurances into your ears, feeling of his slight unkempt beard caressing against your face as he peppers you with kisses,tightens his arm around you. 

Smiling sheepishly, leaving John’s embrace to give each of the men a tight hug, glad all of them made it back in one piece. 

“We know how much you miss the Captain. Don’t break the bed from too much fun tonight!!!” Gaz teased as they waved goodbye to you and John. He rolled his eyes while your face was burning up like a furnace, from the embarrassment and thinking what was to come that night. 

A soft kiss on the lip, bringing you back from reverie, John adjusted himself slightly, sliding his hand down towards your breast and thigh." Well, since you are awake.... "giving you another kiss, this time with more passion and sliding his tongue into your mouth, before breaking apart, "I think you should help me with my... little problem down here. " he grinds against you as he emphasises  the word  little problem. 

You let out a chuckle, teasing him,“ Last night wasn’t enough for you??” 

“I will never get enough from my beautiful wife.” His voice dripping with both sincerity and need. 

He slowly trails his kisses down your neck towards your chest, pausing to caress the bites and bruises that are spread all over your neck and shoulder. 

“… sore?” Murmuring with a hint of guilt in his voice, regretting being rough on you the previous night.

You never seen him so needy and rough before, releasing all the frustration, the pent up energy of not being able to see you, to be there with you physically and emotionally for such a long time.  He made you cum twice before reaching the bedroom, and the countless times during the night you begged him again and again to reassure you he is there, in your arm, limbs intertwine with each others, not just some figment of imagination and dreams you wake up again and again from, to an empty cold bed.

Shaking your head as you card your finger through his messy morning hair,drifting down to his beard, smiling with silent reassurance for him to continue on.

Kneading and sucking each of the breasts with the utmost care, making sure he isn’t causing more pain. You let out a contented sigh as he slowly pushes your legs apart, running his tongue languidly across your already damp slit. 

‘John… Love…” grabbing onto the bed sheet, pleading with him to give you more, to quench that fire he is stirring up within. 

“Patience. I want to just enjoy…” lapping up more of your wetness that is sipping out between your slit, “tasting you. Feeling you.” His eyes shifted up to meet with you for a moment, “ Loving you.”

You sucked in a big breath of air at his words, holding back a sob. All you can think of is how lucky you are, to have such a wonderful man, who cherishes you, accepting and putting up with all your faults, ( as the 141 men once mentioned Price was probably the only one that can hold you back on a leash to contain your recklessness.) always aims to please you, putting your needs before his. 

In a dazed post orgasm mind, you see him crawling back up towards you, stroking your face before positioning his already dripping hard cock and pushing into your still sensitive core.   

In contrast to the frantic sex the night before, peeling each other’s clothes off as soon as you pass through the threshold of the door, hands roaming everywhere, desperate for each other’s touch, how you want him to be inside you, filling that void you've been missing for the last few months. 

Now he is just taking his time to relish the short time together. Both of you know it won’t be too long before duty calls again, splitting the two of you apart. 

You don’t want to think that far. Pushing that thought to the back of your mind, you nudge his shoulder, for him to lean back so you can push yourself up, adjusting yourself to straddle him. 

You clench down hard as he hits you in a sweet spot in this new position, eliciting a moan from him. You smile lazily, rolling your hips, arms around his neck, one hand lightly caressing the nape of his neck, determined to return the favour, making sure he is enjoying it as much as you do. His hand wanders down towards your butt, grabbing both cheeks, pulling you close to him as he can.

You can feel him getting close as he rolls his head back, breathing starting to get erratic, his hip slamming up towards you, trying to chase the high.

“It’s ok love.. just let it go…I want to feel you inside me.. coat me with your hot cum, show you how much you love me…” You whispered into his ear, enticing him. Tipped over the edge with your words, he let out a loud groan as he filled you up inside. With a few more thrust from him as he rides out his orgasm, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, biting down hard on his shoulder,reaching your own high.  

“Ready to go again?? I don’t think my problem has been solved… with just one round”  He asked with his raspy voice as you felt his cock twitching inside you, getting hard again.  You laughed , and leaned in to give him a deep kiss before letting him lowering you back into the bed. 

You and Price didn't get out of bed until way past noon. 

If you are reading this as part of Mini MacTavish verse... Mini and Price are both absolute workaholics, spending more time away from each other than together until they both retire from front line. in my H/C, they never ended up having any kids. by choice or not by choice? you decide. But they are happily to shower their love on their nieces and nephews ( the little rascals Soap has produced lol ).

I apologise for bit of jumble of the smut part. I have no idea why every single time I start writing for Price x Reader, I am always in a slump depressive stage. but hey, I had bit of fun writing, I might revisit and tidy this up when I am in a better place mentally.

Tag :

@floral-force

@homicidal-slvt

@captainpriceslover

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

#captain john price #john price x you #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price #captain price x reader #captain price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #call of duty #Mini Mactavish verse #call of duty fanfic

[serenpedac]

End of year fic rec list 2023

I was looking at last year’s list and how it said I was excited for this year, because of the Book 3 release. And it was great to be here on tumblr while people were reading it and talking about it, and to see new people join! While this list isn’t about b3 itself, of course it did affect the fics that were written. It felt like the book was a lot about setting up pieces for the next book(s), and I adore how people incorporated these new bits of information into their own fic. We may have a long wait ahead for Book 4, but with people here sharing their writing, their art, their thoughts, I don't mind it all that much!

As always, there are many wonderful fics that are not on this list, like the ones from the fic exchange earlier this year (I'm very much looking forward to the Secret Santa as well). Not because they don’t deserve to be, but because my energy and time are limited and the list is already so very long haha

Thank all of you who shared your beautiful writing <3 

List below the cut! Please be mindful of potential warnings

sincerity is scary - @thee-morrigan

Fine. She was fine. Despite the strain of these past months, she continued to be perfectly fine. Had gotten through everything that’d been thrown at her. Not entirely smoothly, certainly not effortlessly, but…she had gotten through it.

This fic had to be the first on this list because it was exactly what I needed to read after finishing Book 3, even if I didn’t know it before reading it. So much is thrown at the detective in that book and, for a detective romancing N, there’s that one conversation at the end that must leave some kind of impact… This fic felt like it finally gave the detective (and me) time to let it all sink in and reflect—no matter how much Holland tries not to think about it. I’m just really thankful this fic exists.

quiet and content - @sealriously-sealrious

There’s more she wants to tell them—usually she’s so good at crafting her sentences with eloquence, tying them together and making them flow like silk. But then Marin’s hands are in her hair again, and that goes entirely out the window.

Choosing one of aeruh’s fics to share on this list was so so hard! They blessed us with many lovely fics, and I absolutely adored the lighthouse AU as well! But this oneshot about Nat and Marin just has so much warmth. Just like Nat gets to relax, be the one who is taken care of for once, I felt like I could sink into this fic. The perfect comfort read <3

to drink from a poisened well - @thcscus

His eyes refocused, one last time. As gray and as beautiful as the last time she lost him. “Mason,” she breathed, panic bursting across her body like fireworks. Stay with me.

Rereading this fic broke my heart again! The premise of Mason losing his memories of a romanced detective hurts so good. And to then have the two meet again, years later… Ah, I don’t want to spoil anything, but the story, the characterisation, the ending, everything here was so well-written! On top of that, the writing itself is simply wonderful. Loved it all!

Just a Nightmare - @lykegenia

Her blood sings, goads him, and his fangs lengthen behind his lips.

The start of this fic is so incredibly sexy!! And the rest is also so good. I love how Lykegenia explores what might happen if N stayed the night with the detective—something that was notably absent in b3. To add to that, Nate and Leah are one of my favourite couples, so to see the growth in their relationship in how Nate decides to trust and open up a little more at the end was lovely.

you make me laugh again, feelin’ so good - @lovelyfoolish

She used to think of these early-morning-after conversations as uncomfortable half-somethings. But they’ve become worn, softening the way leather does, or wool, and now the incomplete sentences feel more like uncut jewels, rough with possibility, an entire language constructed from what they leave unsaid.

A wonderful slice-of-life fic between Mason/detective. I love how it shows the beauty of a seemingly everyday moment. There’s something so delicate about this stage of their relationship, in how they have grown closer and more familiar with each other and are starting to share these “ordinary” moments, but there’s also a lot that’s still unexplored. This fic and its prose capture that beautifully. 

Scarlet Welly Boots - @cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal

“You’re going to be the best mum I’ve ever had. I know it.” He looks back down at the boots in his lap, wrinkling his nose. “Even if you buy me boots.”

I will always be in awe at the thought people put into the backstories of their OCs and this fic is an amazing example of that. The impact of Rook’s death is felt throughout this story, affecting the relationship between Ciaran (Raine) and Rebecca. But what I love the most about this fic is the bond between Ciaran and his brother Eoin. There’s this part in the second chapter that made me so soft <3 I know the detective canonically is an only child, but we need more sibling relationships! 

Half Past Seven? A Post It Note - @agentnatesewell

Don't you know, my beloved, I will give you all the seconds of my immortal life?

A short, sweet and little bit spicy fic! N leaving notes for a romanced detective is one of my favourite things and this note is so wonderfully Nate! His voice, the beautiful language in which he reminisces about the night before, how he thinks about their future together <3 The loveliest little treasure of a fic that I only discovered this year.

I Can’t See Me Lovin’ Nobody But You - @plasticdodecagon

His daughter, Avery. Her sweet smile and her chubby cheeks and her big, curious eyes. How he didn't want her to grow up without a father, how he didn't want her to feel lonely, how he always wanted her to feel loved.

Speaking of sibling relationships, this Rook lives AU has some wonderful ones as well! Reading about the family that the detective could have had, if Rook hadn’t died, may be a little bittersweet, but it’s mostly very heartwarming. PD’s interpretation of Rook is amazing, and this alternative take on how UB meets (not-detective) Avery and gets thrown into family life has been great! I’ve been enjoying every part of this fic so much!

Nightswimming - @nerdierholler

Beside him, Ethan floated, bathed in moonlight, stars reflected in his eyes.

First of all, this quoted sentence is beautiful and evocative and will stay with me for a while! After the pain b3 brought for A-mancers, this ficlet was like a soothing balm. Adam finally accepting his feelings and the tranquil feeling this brings him were written so well. The entire atmosphere of this fic was wonderfully quiet and peaceful.

Breaking the Yearlings - @evilbunnyking

That first night Adam invited him to his own rooms Tobias had entered slowly, cautiously, running his fingers over the fireplace mantle and then the carvings of the bedposts, and all that Adam had wanted was for him to touch him, instead.

This one kind of feels like cheating, since it was also on last year’s list, but Tobi and Adam have my entire heart. Bunny weaves Adam’s (and also Tobi’s) past and the present together beautifully and the writing is gorgeous, always. My favourite part was when Adam finally met present-day Tobi, which was as impactful as might be expected!

inside this place (i call our home) - @thelionheartedo3

Adam’s arms are still crossed over his chest, but he doesn’t tell Ely no. Mango stretches a paw out towards him, mewling, and Nate hides his smile with a hand over his mouth as he watches the stern mask melt off of Adam, shoulders dropping from their hunch.

Fluff!! This was pure and adorable fluff in the form of an orange kitten. I fell in love with Mango at first sight while reading this fic, haha! It’s so much fun to see UB reacting to having a kitten around the warehouse. I was looking forward to rereading this one a lot and it was still every bit as heartwarming as I remembered.

Finally, a very lovely person suggested that I should also celebrate myself, something I don’t find easy to do. Thank you, sweet friend, for your message and for giving me this nudge <3 Here is a snippet I wrote on a whim, but that has by now become part of my HC for Yael and Nate, in which that one conversation at the end of b3 ends with them breaking up. I hope to some day continue this storyline and give them the happy ending they deserve.

#fic rec #rec list #the wayhaven chronicles #one day i will stop making these lists so long asfadsfd

[foreverdolly]

cherry bomb (pt 1) | fan!eddie munson x famous!reader

summary: eddie is devastated when he hears the news that his favorite guitarist quit her band with no explanation. he doesn't find out the exact reason until he runs into her. runs into you. temporarily moving in with your mother was never part of the plan, and staying in hawkins for any extended period of time is a nightmare, but she needs help taking care of her bar and tying up loose ends after the sudden death of your stepfather. "the hideout" is a dive on the outskirts of the small midwestern town- and it was your stepfather's pride and joy , and you intend on helping your mom upkeep it. your band gives you six months to change your mind about quitting. any later than that and they're going to be forced to replace you. that seemed like plenty of time to take a break from the fast paced life of a rock star. . . that is until you meet your biggest fan. that complicates things.

pairing: fan!eddie munson x famous!fem reader

word count: 6,135

warnings/notes: eddie is severely touch starved in this fic, and it's fuckin' adorable. i've seen a lot of fics where eddie is the famous musician, and i'm all about role reversals. basically you're a bad ass and eddie worships the ground you walk on.

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Gareth narrowed his eyes as he roughly swiped his drumsticks off of his father’s workbench. Summer was in full swing with fall right around the corner, so the garage was still stiflingly hot. Despite the fact that he had opened up the doors before the boys even showed up for band practice, it didn’t help cool it down any. He would have plugged in the big fan they had, but his mother complained about their amps possibly blowing out her circuitbox. It had happened one time two years ago, and she still talked about it every week. Gareth didn’t think that it was the heat that had Eddie’s panties in a twist though. He rarely complained about things like heat, especially since his uncle Wayne hadn’t purchased an A.C unit for their trailer until the year before last, and it was only because Eddie had gotten a summer job working at the record store in the Star Court mall. What the long haired boy hadn’t spent on a new amp, concert tickets, and a new spark plug for the van, he saved and squirreled away for Wayne to use as he saw fit. 

“You didn’t hear?” Jeff’s eyebrows pinched together as he slid the strap of his rhythm guitar over his shoulder. Gareth froze, his eyes widening as he realized that something big must have happened. The drummer was Eddie’s best friend. . . or, at least, Eddie was his best friend. He prided himself in the fact that he knew just about everything there was to know about the older male. “Did his dad break outta jail or something?” He lowered his voice, leaning in close to Jeff so that Andy wouldn’t overhear them. Jeff quickly shook his head. “No- Oh god, no. I’m pretty sure he would be halfway to Nebraska by now if that happened. You haven’t heard about the news? About Social Misconduct?” Now Gareth was beyond confused. Eddie was moving in what appeared to be slow motion, unlatching his guitar case, his eyes solemn. It looked like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before. His hair was an absolute wreck, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he was wearing his old Social Misconduct shirt that Wayne had accidentally shrunk in the wash a few months back. “. . . No? Wait- don’t tell me one of them died, man. Social is one of my favorite bands and-” “Y/n left the band.” The second that Eddie heard his favorite guitarist's name, he let out a loud sniffle, his bottom lip quivering. 

Damn him and his sensitive nature. He’d been crying all night, having gotten a call from the venue up in Indianapolis where he had tickets to see their upcoming show. He was told that he would be mailed a refund, but none of that mattered. “You’re kidding. We were supposed to see them in November!” It was Gareth’s turn to let out a wail, his drumsticks falling out of his hands as he began pacing the expanse of the garage. “She was the heart of the band! I mean. . .” Eddie quickly joined in, standing up from the ground so that he could throw his own hands up in frustration. “She’s the entire reason why most people listened to them in the first place! I-I mean. . . She was a female thrash metal guitarist. She shreds. Is she going to join another band? What if she drops off the face of the planet and we never see her again. . . she’s a musical genius. I feel like my heart has been carved out of my chest.” He was rambling, tapping his fingers against his temples as he spoke. He felt like he was going to lose his mind. Social Misconduct had gotten him through some of the hardest years of his life. To say that he admired the guitarist was an understatement. She was his absolute hero. Females, especially in the metal and hard rock genre, were a commodity. Not only that but they were seen as the underdogs solely based on the fact that they were women. Y/n had managed to take that unfair stigma and smash it to pieces. Most metalheads worshipped her like a god, Eddie included. The “SM” shirt was absolutely tiny on him all thanks to his uncle- god bless his soul- so it fit him more like a baby tee than a regular shirt. It brushed against the top of his black jeans, and as he raised his arms, the hem of the shirt moved up his stomach, showing off the small patch of hair that grew beneath his naval and disappeared beneath his belt. 

Andy licked his lips, looking between the two fretting males, and decides that instead of comforting them, he’ll try to do the next best thing. Criticize them. “Don’t you think that the two of you are being a little bit. . . I don’t know. . . dramatic? The member’s probably got into a fight or something. We broke up for a month back when Gareth was a sophomore, remember?” Eddie’s jaw dropped, his brown eyes widening to the size of saucers. Gareth let out a deep groan, lowering his head into his hands. “Oh, you did not just say that.” The Munson boy mumbled quickly, shaking his head in disbelief. “They’re rock stars, Andrew. Professional rock stars. They just got done doing a world tour with Kiss. They wouldn’t just announce that Y/n’s leaving only for her to pop back up a week later.” Andy nodded his head, not noticing how stupid the point that he was trying to make was until the words had finally left his mouth. He bit his lip, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Yeah, you’ve got a point.” Jeff plugged his guitar into the amp, leaning down to fiddle with the volume. “Well let’s just get through today's practice, alright? It’s too late to cancel tonight’s show, and the last thing we want to do is make Miss Marie’s life even harder right now.” Eddie and Gareth sucked in a small breath, sharing a look before nodding in agreement. “No, no. . . you’re right.” Andy quickly held his hand out, gesturing towards the two boys. Both Eddie and Gareth were easy to motivate, so he was quick to raise an eyebrow at them. “What would Y\n do?” Gareth was quick to reach down, picking his drum sticks up off of the floor. “She’d probably get drunk and-” “No, no. . . what’s the other thing she’d do?” Eddie was quick to slide the guitar strap over his shoulder, clenching his jaw. “She’d play the show, no matter how upset she was.” Andy smiled, gesturing towards Jeff who gave him a thumbs up, letting him know that they were all set up. That had worked like a charm. “Well let’s do it then.” 

The Hideout was more of a dive bar than a restaurant. Sure, they had great food, but people went there for the booze, pool tables, and pinball machines. Some of the high school kids would stop by on the weekends to grab a greasy burger and play the machines until their pockets were devoid of all quarters, but the people that really kept the place afloat were the local drunks. The building wasn’t run down by any means, but most of the preppier Hawkins inhabitants liked to label the place as “unsavory”. They saw the motorcycles and muscle cars parked outside and turned their cheeks. It was situated quite a ways outside of town, far enough down the main road that it was within spitting distance to the interstate. A lot of truckers liked to frequent the place, and Miss Marie and her husband Stuart were nice enough to let them sleep in their trucks in the empty lot behind the bar. Speaking of Mr Stuart. . . 

“Are you guys going to the funeral?” Eddie asked, lifting up in his seat a little so that he could look at his friends in the rearview mirror. Jeff was quick to pop a cheese doodle into his mouth before handing the bag back off to Andy. “Of course I’m going. What about you?” Gareth let out a small sigh, stretching his legs from his spot in the passenger side seat until he heard his back pop. Eddie grimaced at the noise, giving the other male’s side a quick slap. “Gross, man. Keep your rickety joints to yourself.” Gareth was quick to flip him the bird as a response before turning to face Jeff. “I’m still trying to talk my mom into it. She never met Mr Stuart, so she thinks it’s weird that I want to go to his funeral.” Eddie knew that Gar’s mom could be a bit overbearing, and as aggravating as he thought that it was, a part of him was always a bit jealous. Sure, there were things that Wayne didn’t let him do before he finally turned twenty-one, but he never hovered. Eddie didn’t have a loving mother breathing down his back at all hours of the day, or a father that showed up to all of his baseball games as a kid. None of that is to say that he didn’t appreciate what he already had though. Wayne loved him when nobody else did, and that was enough for him. However, if he had hovered a bit more, last spring break might have never happened. At least. . . not with him so involved, at least. He gripped a little harder onto the steering wheel, fighting off the memories the best he could. He could feel the phantom pain from his many scars, rudely reminding him that they were still there and just as gnarly. “Mr Stuart is the only reason why we started playing live shows in the first place. Your mom should get that, man.” Andy folded the bag of chips up as he spoke, shoving them underneath the seat where Eddie was sure to find them weeks later, stale and full of ants. The chocolate eyed boy made a mental note to remember to throw it away once he got home, but he was positive that he would forget the second he got back into his car after the gig. “Let me talk to your mom. She loves me.” Jeff grinned at Gareth, who was quick to agree. “She loves you more than she loves me. Probably because you’re mister ‘full ride’.” Eddie smiled over his shoulder at Jeff, a silent ‘congratulations’ before facing the road again. 

Jeff had been waiting anxiously for the acceptance letters for what seemed like months, and made it the entire Hellfire Club’s problem. His GPA was great, his SAT scores were off the charts, and he was a dedicated young man that came from a working middle class family. None of the boys were surprised when the letter finally came back, stating that he had been accepted on a scholarship to the local university. The recent trauma had pushed Jeff in a direction that no one saw coming. Even Henderson had been stunned into silence when Jeff finally got the boys together and told them that he wanted to be a lawyer. Watching one of his best friend’s name get slandered had made him take a big step back, really honing in on what he wanted to do with his life. Anyone with half a brain would be able to see that the Munson boy was no murderer- it wasn’t in his nature. Jeff wanted to make sure that nothing happened like that again.

 Knowing that Eddie would eventually have to find a replacement for one of the beloved members of his band was a tough pill to swallow, but after a few days of wallowing in self pity, he learned to embrace the change. He’d been hanging posters up all over town, but no fishies had bitten the bait yet. Jeff was shipping off in two months, which meant he could kiss his dreams goodbye if he couldn’t find anyone soon. He was already twenty-two, and he certainly wasn’t getting any younger. He had wasted precious years repeating his senior year three times, and the possibility of getting signed to a label is higher when you’re young. Hell, Kirk Hammett had started the band Exodus when he was only sixteen, and joined Metallica when he was twenty-one. The talented guitarist’s golden years were ticking by. 

He might have been able to fight off demon bats, but time? There was no stopping that. 

Eddie parked right in front of the bar, turning his body so that he could face the boys all at once. “This is our first time seeing her since he died, so let’s stay on our best behavior.” Which meant that Eddie would not be buying Gareth and Andy beers, no matter how much they begged. The last thing he needed was for the two eighteen year olds to get wasted, stumbling around the bar like idiots. With the sweet middle aged woman in mind, the boys all piled out of the car, dragging their equipment right along with them. 

Forty-nine was too young. You didn’t understand how someone could be perfectly healthy one second, and then on their deathbed the next. It didn’t make sense to you. You hoped that being with your mother might bring you some closure, but all it did was make you feel worse somehow. Grief hits everyone in different ways. You found that it came in waves; the tide was either high or low. It struck you at random points of the day. You’d catch a whiff of a scent that reminded you of your step father, or stare too long at an old family photo that he had hanging up on the wall. Right now you were busy staring at the hole in a leather seat, your right knee propped up against the old booth so that you could wipe off the table tops. Your parents- the very same ones that had loved and raised you- had been busy trying to make ends meet, all while you were jetting off all over the world. You bought whatever you wanted, fucked whoever you wanted, and got paid to strut around onstage in leather outfits, doing what you loved. Your bottom lip quivered as you ran your finger over the tear in the upholstery, moving to shuffle back over towards the bar so that you could speak with your mother. “Why didn’t you tell me about how old the furniture was? I would have gotten you new seats made.” You rested your elbows against the varnished wooden bar, staring at her intently. 

She was setting up glasses behind the bar to get everything ready for the night. In about thirty minutes, once rush hour hit and people were off of work, the place would be packed. She waved you off with a flick of her risk, scoffing to herself. “You don’t need to spend any money on this old place. I’m doing just fine with the old furniture. People don’t care about what they’re sitting on. As long as I have good quality beer on tap, they’ll never stop coming.” That wasn’t the point and she knew it. Your mother had always been so against you helping them out financially. It drove her crazy thinking about you supporting her in any way. You were supposed to be her baby, not the other way around. You wanted your mother to feel proud of what her and your step father had built together. You wanted her to own a nice place. The Hideout was Stuart’s legacy, so you refused to turn a blind eye to all of the things that were going wrong in the place. “Mom. . . I have more money than I know what to do with. Honestly, it would make me happy if you let me fix some things around here. Just to give the place a little facelift- nothing major.” You assured, flashing her your most convincing smile. 

You never could understand why your parents had moved all the way to Indiana and bought an old building on the outskirts of a tiny town. You had already moved out by the time that they packed up themselves and left home. You had visited a couple of times over the last few years, but you never stayed long. Hawkins was small enough to where you felt claustrophobic after spending just a few days there. You regretted not staying longer while you still had that chance though. Now that your step father was gone, all you had left was a sinking feeling of regret. The least you could do was temporarily move in with your mother so that you could help her iron things out. You being there was the only thing keeping her together, and you could tell. She hadn’t fallen apart yet, but you’d be there for her when it finally did happen. At some point the levee has to break. 

The news of you leaving the band had already hit mainstream media. You were too scared to call up any of your old bandmates to check in on them, not wanting to know whether or not they forgave you for making such a brash decision. You knew that there would be offers to join new bands the second you got back into the swing of things- hell, Ozzy had already reached out to you. Ever since the death of Randy Rhoads, he’d been floundering to get back on his feet and find a good guitarist. You had half the mind to take him up on it. The boys had taken the news pretty well when you initially told them that you were quitting. Your father had died, and that was a good enough reason for you to take a break from the band. They had made it clear that they would leave the door open for you. As long as you gave them a call within six months, they’d be more than happy to take you back. Any later than that, they’d be forced to find a replacement. You had exactly six months to make sure that your mom was healthy and happy. 

“I just. . . I feel rotten about letting you spend your own money on me. I’m the parent. I’m supposed to be the one that helps you out, remember?” She gave your hand a soft pat, flashing you one of her famous smiles. It was painful, but you’d noticed that it didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore. You hadn’t said anything about it. “That’s the joy of getting old. It’s my turn to pay you back for all those years you took care of me. Being a single mom is hard, but you managed. Let me do something nice for you, ma.” You didn’t give her any time to object, rather you just turned on the heel of your boot so that you could make your way back into the kitchen to check on the cook. You wanted to make sure that he was fully prepped for tonight, and if not, you’d be more than willing to help. 

Your mother busied herself yet again with setting up the bar to perfection. She liked to have things neat and tidy. It made her feel less overwhelmed later on, and she was positive that her heart couldn’t take much more. “You boys need any help?” Marie looked up from her spot behind the bar, watching as the group of boys dragged their heavy amps through the front doors. “Nah, nah. We got it. We do this every Tuesday.” Eddie told her with a smile. He was a lot less animated than he usually was, and she was quick to pick up on the fact that it must be for her sake. He wasn’t sure how to treat her after the recent tragedy. “My daughter is here. You know. . . the one that I've told you that you’d like?” She always thought that you and Eddie would get along like a house on fire. She had been eager for you two to meet for years. She just wished that it wasn’t under these circumstances. Eddie hung back from the group as they began walking their way back out to the van, ready to grab another load of equipment. “Yeah? Must be good to have her home.” Eddie sauntered up to the bar, tapping his ringed fingers against the wood. He looked over his shoulder at the young couple that were seated in the opposite corner of the stage. They were deep in conversation, sharing a basket of curly fries. They were in for a rude awakening- Corroded Coffin played fast, hard and loud. “Where is she now?” There had never been any weird undertone in the way that Marie spoke to him about her daughter. You would have killed her if you caught wind of her trying to set you up with a blind date, and Eddie would have felt horribly embarrassed as well. 

He wasn’t exactly. . . Mr Popular. Not by any means. Unless it was his friend Robin, he never talked to girls. He practically repelled them. “She’s in the back doing something. She’s been staying busy these last few days. She’s so used to constant chaos. . . I think she misses it already.” She joked, wrinkling her nose a bit. Marie had never gone into too much depth about you, so he had no clue who you were, where you lived, or what you did for a living. What he did know was that the two of you dressed similarly and had the same taste in music. He was intrigued to say the least. It wasn’t every day that someone get’s the opportunity to meet a girl that’s actually into thrash metal. You were also the only real reason that Marie and Stuart allowed Corroded Coffin to play once every week. They were desensitized to your fast paced, heavy music. If anything, they actually had come to really enjoy it. “Chaos? What kind of chaos are we talkin’ about here? Does she live in a city or something?” Your mother nodded, turning her attention to the lemon that she was currently slicing up for garnishes to be used later. “Los Angeles. She moved out there the second that she graduated from high school. The girl saw a chance and took it. She’s always been independent like that.” Eddie felt a pang of jealousy. Sure, it was nice to be able to finally financially help Wayne out after all those years of constant care, but he would have liked to be able to move out and be on his own. There was a large part of him that was too scared to leave Wayne though. The man worked the graveyard shift at the plant, so Eddie had been the one to do the grocery shopping, cooking, and tidying up (even though the trailer was often a wreck). How was he supposed to do all of that by himself while he worked as many hours as he did? 

“In all the years that we’ve been coming here, I’ve never seen her. Is she that busy out in LA?” That came out a lot harsher than Eddie wanted it to, and he couldn’t help but flinch, snapping his mouth shut so hard that his teeth clattered together. He had never been good at socializing, and had a hard time picking up on social cues most of the time. His cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but Marie simply nodded her head. “She’s actually in a band. I mean. . .  she was in a band. She’s going to be staying with me for a few months to help tie up loose ends now that Stuart is gone.” The long haired man could have punched himself. He had gone out of his way to lecture the boys earlier about not bringing up anything too heavy around Marie, and here he was, pointing out her only child’s absence and reminding her of her dead husband. All it took was a two minute conversation, and Eddie had already blown it. “A-A band? What kind of band?” He tried to change the subject, flashing her a smile in the hopes of lightening the mood. “It’s your kinda music. Maybe you two could get together some time and “jam” out,” He cracked another smile, a laugh shaking his broad shoulders. Marie smiled back, giving his arm a small smack. “Or whatever it is you kids say.” “Play. We can play together.” Marie mumbled a quick “yeah, yeah” at his correction. Eddie was a good kid, and reminded her a lot of you. Maybe that was why she loved him so damn much. 

“Is she a good singer?” Marie gave him a look as if to say ‘are you crazy?’ “That girl can’t carry a tune to save her life. She plays-” “Electric guitar. Lead.” You called out to them as you walked through the double doors of the kitchen, tossing a dish rag over your shoulder. You hadn’t heard the entire conversation, just the tail end of it. Giving the boy a quick once over, you made a mental note that cute boys did live in Hawkins, before turning to face your mom. “You’ve gotta eighty-six the the onion rings. Jim ran out of panko, and the next shipment isn’t until tomorrow.” You turned to face your mom, slowly raising an eyebrow at her wide smile. It was practically splitting her cheeks at this point. “Y\n, this is the boy that I’ve been talking about the last couple of years.” Ah- right. She had told you about the town reject that she had taken under her wing. You were impressed to hear that he had started up his own metal band all the way back in middle school. From what you heard from her, he seemed to be a pretty talented guitarist himself. “Uh. . . Freddie, right?” Your rings caught the dim overhead lights, your sharp, black lined eyes locked on him. 

He felt like he was going to piss himself. Or throw up- maybe both. Fainting was also on the table too. There was no way this was real. Eddie was probably still in his room, having a dream about you after crying himself to sleep due to the unfortunate news. He had conjured all of this up somehow. This was the most lucid dream that he’s ever had. “E-Eddie.” He squeaked out the correction, brown eyes wide as he stared at you. He wanted to have the opportunity to properly check you out. He’d stared at pictures of you for years- hell, he had a poster of you hanging up on his wall, right beside his bed for. . . well, obvious reasons. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your face though. Even in person, you were the most beautiful female he had ever seen. No questions asked. Girls like you didn’t exist. Couldn’t exist. He didn’t expect for you to be so tiny though, especially compared to him. He wasn’t the tallest guy around, but working with heavy equipment all day had caused him to build up a fair bit of body mass over the last year since graduation. 

You didn’t seem intimidated by his form though. You were a female in a mainly male dominated genre. You were known for your snarky comebacks and quick witted humor. He would know. He’s seen every interview you’ve ever done. It was easy to spot a look of recognition in somebody's eyes. You expected him to at least know your band name, but the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. The kid was freaking out. That and the fact that he was wearing a shirt with your band's logo on it. You shot him a small smile, reaching out to give his chest a quick poke. “Like your shirt, man.” Your mother blinked, her eyes widening as if she was just now putting two and two together. “So you already know who she is then? Oh, wow. That’s great! Now that formalities are out of the way, you guys should be fast friends.” You weren’t the type of person to take advantage of your status. You knew a lot of guys in the music business that took advantage of fans. Sure, your band had plenty of groupies, and you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t gone on at least one date with a fan. You weren’t about to tease Eddie for it though, especially not in front of your mother. So you merely nodded your head, offering him your hand to shake. “I’m here all night, so I’m excited to see you play.” He seemed to move in slow motion, reaching out for your hand. His plush lips parted, mahogany eyes blown out wide. He looked like he was having a heart attack. After what felt like minutes the boy finally clasped his hand with yours, giving it a firm shake. His hand felt nice in yours, and his calluses were no joke. The guy was a religious player, you could tell just by the feel of his hands and the shape of the calluses. “R-Right. We go on in just a few minutes.” He spoke dazedly, his eyes bouncing over your features. He was trying to commit them to memory. “Yeah. . . I know. . .” You shot him a playful smile before motioning back towards the kitchen. “I’ve gotta help our cook with a few more things, and then I’ll be back out.” And with that you took a few steps backward, giving him a small wave before disappearing in the back. Marie was about to turn and face Eddie again, but when she moved to face him, he was already gone, the front door swinging closed. 

Gareth watched Eddie with wide eyes as the man collapsed to his knees on the side of the building, dry heaving loudly into the nearest bush. The drummer had only seen Eddie puke a handful of times, none of which had been because of stagefright. The long haired brunette could play the guitar in his sleep. Not to mention the fact that they weren’t planning on performing any of their newer material. Today's gig was routine. “Hey, are you alright, man?” Gareth approached slowly, not wanting his sneakers to get puked on. Eddie gave up after a few seconds, realizing that he was just nauseous due to shock and nerves, and that his lunch would remain in his stomach. “How do I look?” Eddie rushed to ask, stumbling to stand up so that he could brush his pants off. Gareth’s head reared back, his eyebrows drawn together in utter confusion. Eddie was acting weirder than usual, and that was really saying something. Maybe this was some sort of a test? Was Gareth supposed to go out of his way to compliment him or something? The mousy haired brunette had a girlfriend two years ago that would ask how she would look in the hopes of being fervently complimented. “You look great?” It sounded more like a question than a statement, and Eddie lurched forward, gripping the smaller boy by the shoulders so that he could give him a shake. “Seriously, dude. How do I look?” Gareth slowly looked down at Eddie’s black combat boots, trailing them up his ripped black jeans, to his favorite handcuff belt, and then to his shirt. Sure, the top had shrunk in the wash, but Eddie was in shape. He knew that some people might even see him wearing a tighter fitting shirt as androgynous and daring. He was wearing the same accessories that he always did. Same rings. Same chain bracelet, and the same guitar pick necklace was dangling from his neck. 

“You look like you always do. Why? Did you get a haircut and I didn’t notice or something?” Eddie’s shoulders slumped, taking a step back from him so that he could take a few seconds to calm down. He was positive that he was dreaming up until the point that you shook his hand. You felt very warm and very real. He was a nerd that spent his free time playing the guitar, planning dungeon and dragons campaigns, and reading fantasy novels. The metalhead wasn’t afraid to admit that he was the type of person that daydreamed on a regular basis. This wasn’t how he had imagined this situation would go down. He met you while wearing your t-shirt. He looked like an absolute asshole. Eddie hadn’t deluded himself into thinking that he actually had any sort of shot with you, but he at least wanted you to think that he was cool. “This needs to be the best show we’ve ever played.” He quickly called out to the boys, grabbing the wires from the back of his van before slamming the door shut. “What the hell is going on, man? You’re acting weird.” Jeff told him, finally joining in on the conversation. The wavy haired man held his arm out so that he could motion towards the building, keeping his eyes locked on his friends. “Marie’s daughter? The one that we’ve never met before? It’s fucking Y/n.” Gareth let out a small laugh, kicking at a rough patch of gravel. A few rocks flung across the parking lot, clattering loudly. “Come on man, cut the bullshit.” Eddie blinked, moving his arm up and down more wildly. “I’m not fucking with you, man. That's the reason we’ve never met her. Think about it- she leaves the band suddenly with no explanation? Her dad just died.” Andy shook his head. “Maybe she just looks like her? Her and Marie don’t have the same last names.” Eddie’s arms fell to his sides. “Stuart wasn’t her real dad. He was her-” Jeff snapped, pointing at Eddie as he finally clued in. “Stepfather.” Eddie pointed right back at Jeff, nodding his head. “Exactly!” His excitement quickly waned though, the ugly truth tickling at the back of his brain. 

He had made a horrible first impression. 

He had just stood there, gaping at you like a mouth breather. He was sure that his palms were dripping with sweat too. Was it too late to turn back around and just go home? He loved performing, but playing his guitar in front of you? He wasn’t sure whether or not he could make it through a single song without messing up, let alone an entire setlist. Gareth was quick to march away from the boys, off in the direction of the front door. He wanted to see whether or not Eddie was just seeing things due to his grief. The taller male reached out to grab the small drummer by the back of the shirt, effortlessly yanking him back. “Hey! What are you doing?” He hissed out, his eyes wide. “Are you crazy?” His voice raised an octave in his panic. “I just want to see her? Besides. . . we all have to go back in at some point.” The long haired brunette slowly loosened his hold on Gareth’s black W.A.S.P shirt, mumbling out an apology. Eddie stalked past the group after sucking in a shaky breath, pushing his way through the front door.  “Holy. Fucking. Shit.” Gareth’s voice is incredibly loud as he walks through the front doors, staring at you from across the bar. You had changed into a fresh shirt that didn’t smell like chili dogs and french fries, what with your mother living on the top floor above the bar. You had been busy talking to the middle aged cook, who had stepped outside of the kitchen to grab a drink. The second that you heard Gareth’s voice you looked up, your plush lips twitching up into a smile. You said something under your breath to the cook, giving his back a quick pat before walking over to them. “So this is your band?” You looked over to the stage, squinting your eyes so that you could read what had been painted onto the bass drum. “Corroded Coffin. Huh. . . Nice.” The youngest looking member of the group looked like he was going to explode, his cheeks a bright pink and his eyes wide. “Just pretend like I’m not here, guys.” Eddie ruffled the back of his hair, looking down at you nervously. “Yeah. Totally. We’re excited for you to hear us play.” More like they were dreading it. If you thought that they sucked, none of them would ever be able to live the embarrassment down. Suddenly Eddie felt like he was in the upside down all over again, performing like his life depended on it. . . because it really felt like it did.

#foreverdolly #x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things four #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #joseph quinn #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #st 4 #mutual pining #touch deprived #slow burn #angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie my beloved #eddie the banished #eddie stranger things #eddie my love

[blackjackkent]

Admittedly I haven't played Lae'zel origin (or any origin) yet so maybe this is already discussed in more detail there, but I am thinking this morning about the period of maybe twenty minutes between her escaping her pod and finding Tav and how absolutely mind-bogglingly terrifying a situation it is for her.

As many other posts have already pointed out - she is literally living out the single scenario she has been taught to fear above ALL others. And given the nature of mind flayer transformation she has no reason to believe that she will find anyone else on the ship in the same situation - as far as she knows, she is completely alone.

More than that, too... there doesn't seem to be a ton of specific information about how she got captured by the nautiloid in the first place, which leaves plenty of room for headcanon, but dialogue DOES make clear (ref. BG3 wiki) that this was her first actual encounter with ghaik; she had fought other monsters alongside others of her clutch but never an actual illithid.

Wyll: "Lae'zel - did you ever fight illithid creatures in your training days?" Lae'zel: "Never. The ghaik aboard the nautiloid was the first I ever witnessed in flesh." Wyll: "Really? I figured you would have joined your fellow gith in a colony raid." Lae'zel: "A young warrior is expected to fight their first ghaik with their cousins - kin hatched from the same clutch. The ones who triumph earn a place in githyanki society. The one's who don't, perish."

By all githyanki measures, it seems reasonable to assume, we are meeting Lae'zel on the heels of a spectacular moment of failure. She (and perhaps the rest of her clutch) made their first attempt at taking on illithids, in the hopes of obtaining heads that would allow them into the midst of githyanki society in the Astral Plane. They failed, for unspecified reasons which might have involved her or been entirely outside her control. The nautiloid sails on, travels to the material plane, begins a rampage of destruction.

But Lae'zel was not even given the comfort of a death in combat; she was captured, left to stew on her failure while being infected by a tadpole in what she assumes is complete isolation. This is not only a nightmare scenario for her people culturally, but for her personally - Lae'zel fears failure and insignificance far more than she fears death. And she is terribly young in spite of her air of absolute confidence; has she ever operated outside of the strict guidance of a superior before? Probably not.

It would be so easy to give up. But of course she doesn't, because she is Lae'zel and she's a fucking badass. But it must be such a dark night of the soul, those twenty minutes or so, believing that her only options are to give up and become ghaik or push on and handle the situation in complete isolation.

Small wonder she seems so (for her) delighted to realize that you are not a thrall but are in fact someone still in control of their faculties also. "Vlaakith blesses me this day. Together we might survive." She is no longer alone in this terrible situation. And small wonder she subtly defers to you, given the option.

It also explains why (to my recollection) her dialogue is never about trying to communicate with the githyanki circling the ship. One would assume that she would consider them allies (given that she seems quite surprised by how wary the Y'llek gith are towards her), but she doesn't even seem to consider it. She only talks about getting back to the material plane and off the ship.

Shame, perhaps? Not wanting her people to see this moment of what she considers ultimate failure?

Lae'zel's strength of character and determination are such a fundamental part of her character, but what really fascinates me is how much fear they must be covering up. Out of everyone in the group, she is the one most out of her depth, suffering the most terrifying change of circumstances imaginable, and yet she still keeps pressing forward no matter what.

TLDR: They should add an option to give Lae'zel a hug right there on the nautiloid bc goddamn does she need one.

#bg3 #lae'zel #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 meta #bjk talks #i'm having lae'zel feels today don't mind me

[madaboutmunson]

Ok because the other two little fics were so well liked my brain could stop thinking about it.

So we've got how the song in question was written, the song when Corroded Coffin make it big, so consider this one the last time that song is ever played live by Corroded Coffin.

It starts with a little shocker so I've hidden the story under a read more so people don't accidently read it, in case it upsets anyone, but trust me when I say it's not all doom and gloom 😉 I got you 💚

The day the news of music legend Eddie Munson passing breaks, it plunged the world into deep, dark despair. A shocking departure that stopped newsreaders in their tracks to announce it.

The bombshell news was plastered everywhere for weeks, billboards, posters, newspapers, magazines, murals, tv show opening monologues, and this thing slowly emerging, the internet, had its forums full of theories as to what had happened, as no announcement had come from the Corroded Coffin camp as yet.

There was no sign of illness or injury. No accident or crime details. He seemed to have just...died.

The outpourings of condolences from countless heavy metal icons, hundreds of celebrities, some of which you would never have even guessed, liked Corroded Coffin, millions of fans worldwide held candle-lit vigils and sang their songs sombrely acapella in meeting places all around the world.

A week later, the band finally released a written statement.

"It was during the hellish times of high school that Eddie found us, protected us, guided us and forged this band of brothers that would go on to conquer not just our fears but the entire world. Impossible dreams came true countless times over, but now we sit in a waking nightmare at the loss of our leader, so now our time must come to an end.

A band is a sum of its parts, and with any one of us gone, this is simply not Corroded Coffin anymore. So it is with the deepest sadness but no regrets we have to say goodnight to you one last time.

Thank you for sticking by us all these years.

Remember to look out for one another.

HFC 4 Eva

The Remains of Corroded Coffin"

With the statement is an announcement that there will be a tribute show organised by Corroded Coffin, but they declined to play all but one song, which a special guest on guitar.

A month later, the tribute show goes ahead, but no stadium can hold it due to demand, mainly because the band had to fulfil Eddie's final wishes.

One of which was causing the most problems, Eddie wanted every member of the Corroded Coffin fan club to get the first refusal on a space at the tribute show. So no matter where in the world they were from, they were invited and their travel expenses paid, or something set up so they could join the live feed.

Eddie had jokingly set up the fan club at a merch table in the early days. It got you a Corroded Coffin badge, a hand-painted d20, a poster, access to a monthly newsletter/comic and a hand-drawn membership card signed on the back by the band, all for the price of five dollars. As the band grew, the fan club pack stayed the same, except the merch was better quality, it had to be mass-produced, and the price was lowered to one dollar.

The band also often had membership cards on their person or gave them out for free to fans that wanted them through their music charity for kids living in low-income areas.

So as you can imagine, there were thousands of potential attendees, but if you didn't have the card, you weren't getting in, no matter how much money you had or how famous you were.

The crowd is a sea of Corroded Coffin fans of all ages and all walks of life.

The first people out on stage are Corroded Coffin.

All of them.

The three band members wheel out an enormous coffin encased in rusted metal sheets with haphazardly driven rivets to keep it together, standing up tall, onto a platform at the back of the stage. They do this in absolute silence. The crowd is so hushed that on the recording, you can hear the ting of someone dropping a can.

Then the chants start, "Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!" Hauntingly fierce like an army ready for battle, they know they can't win.

It spreads across the ocean of fans like a ripple of deafening voices.

Then the concert begins. Not only is the lineup littered with some of the most famous musical artists in the world, but also many of Eddie's favourite bands, and to introduce each of them is a celebrity pairing.

Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley. Prize-winning journalist and film director, respectively.

Tech Whiz Kids Dustin Henderson and Erica Sinclair.

Internet entrepreneur duo Jargyle.

Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers. Heads of a missing children's charity.

Award-winning scientists Mike and Will Byler.

Novelist Lucas Sinclair and Skateboarding legend Mad Max.

Then lastly, a fan favourite, Eddie's Uncle Wayne. He had made a cameo appearance in every video they had ever made, was on every concert video and was always thanked in the album notes.

"It is my greatest honour that the boys chose me to introduce the last performance of the evening. I know this song was his favourite, and many of yours also. So without further ado...Sadly, for the final time, Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Corroded Coffin," he shouts finally over the crowd's roar as flames shoot out of the sides of the coffin on stage, and the three remaining members walk out.

They say nothing and launch into the heaviest song Corroded Coffin ever wrote.

A lead guitar joins in but with no guitarist to be seen.

As the song draws to a close, a man walks out in a denim battle vest a little too snug for him, his hair voluminous but dishevelled. He's holding the prop guitar.

He swings it around, smashing it into the floor behind him, and with an almighty swing back in front of him, the guitar must know this is its last show because the body splits in two. The man rips the neck of the guitar out of the body and holds it above his head. The fake blood spills out of his mouth, and the tears flood down his face as he punches the air in time with the Eddie chants before he blows a kiss at the crowd and then one at the coffin.

There is a curtain call for all involved as pyros and flames fill the air around the stage until the last fan leaves the area. Then the curtain finally drops.

Everyone heads backstage or to the trailers behind it for food and drinks. 

All except one person. Steve Harrington.

He looks around to ensure the coast is clear, approaches the giant coffin structure, and puts his hand on it, still warm from the flames.

"I never did find the right time to tell you this, and it looks like I'm too late." The tears prick his eyes again, and the first one that escapes down his cheek causes the rest to follow in droves. 

His sobs are so loud he covers his mouth to quiet them for fear of anyone overhearing, "I love you, Eddie. I just didn't know how to say it, I-I d-didn't know if you felt the same, so I'd act like I didn't care and hoped you'd make the first move, but you didn't. And then you got famous, and were gone. I saw you a handful of times, and every time I wanted to tell you, something got in the way, or I chickened out, you know, because...well, because maybe you'd reject me and hate me or worse, you'd want what I did, and the press would eat you for breakfast. It would have ruined everything you built, and I couldn't handle that." 

He runs his hands through his hair, bows his head, and presses his forehead against the warm sheet metal. "I couldn't take that chance because I loved you so much, so very very much, Eddie." He plants a kiss on his fingertips and presses it against the name plaque on the coffin. He lets out a final guttural sob. "See you on the other side, Munson", he manages finally and walks away.

He takes a last look back over his shoulder as he wipes the tears from his eyes, and Steve swears he sees the thing move.

He shakes his head and takes a few more steps, he can hear Eddie cursing under his breath in his mind, and it makes him smile.

But then Steve freezes to the spot because there is a loud clang behind him. He doesn't want to turn around and fix Eddie's coffin, but who else is going to do it, right?

"Well, that was suffocating!" Eddies voice rings in Steve's head.

Steve steels himself and prepares to see the worst as he turns back towards the coffin, only to find the front of it completely off its hinges, and standing draped in his guitar, with crumbs in his hair and hat with two beer cans in with straws, is one, very alive Eddie Munson.

Steve cannot move. He mutters, "Oh god, I've finally lost it."

Eddie looks at Steve with a perplexed look on his face, "Ah, yeah, you have" he puts his hands on his hips, "Keeping a secret like that from me for like a decade. First of all, how fucking dare you wait until I end everything to tell me, and secondly, get over here, you big stud, and give me some well overdue sugar."

"What...the...fuck..." Steve fearfully whispers to himself, "I'm actually insane."

"Eddie!!" Dustin's excited voice rings out behind Steve as he charges forward, embracing him.

"Hey, watch my guitar, you little shrimp!" Eddie giggles and Ruffles Dustin's hair.

"Wait a second now," Steve says, finger pointed out in front of him, slowly stepping forward, "You can see him?"

Now it's Dustin's turn to look confused at Steve. He scoffs out a laugh, "Well, of course, I can! Are you feeling ok, Steve?"

"But...but...but he died...again...is he like... immortal, or something. Like a-a vamp.. vampire?" Steve tries gingerly, moving closer, one hand still stretched out in front of him like he's trying to ward off something evil.

Dustin and Eddie look at one another in confusion and start laughing.

"Steve, have you sampled some of the special backstage treats?" Eddie asks and turns back to Dustin, "I mean, that might explain why he also just confessed he's had a massive boner about me for over a decade!"

"Really?" Dustin says curiously, and Eddie nods as he takes off his guitar. "Wow."

Then the others start piling onto the stage, all of Eddie's nearest and dearest, and all of them are smiling and laughing and joking, except for Steve, who is watching this happen around him until he erupts.

"How can you all be so god damn normal about this??!!!!! He's just come back from the dead. Not like last time when he passed out. He's been dead for like a fucking month, and your all just-just fucking OK WITH THAT??!!" Steve is yelling at the top of his lungs, hands gesticulating wildly at them all, still keeping his distance, and the group falls silent.

"Oh, no, honey," Joyce says soothingly, walking towards Steve. "It's ok, it must be really scary to see this kind of thing, but you remember, right? It's all just for show." She turns and whispers to Hopper, "I knew all those bumps to the head needed looking at."

"FOR SHOW?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOR SHOW?! IT WAS EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE" Steve starts counting on his fingers, "It-it was on the news, and-and in all the papers, and-and the fans did all those vigils" He points accusingly at the band, "You were at least three of those!!"

Robin's eyes go wide "Steve, it's me, Robin. Hi!" She approaches him slowly, "I'm real. We're all real here. Everything is ok" Once Robin is within arms distance of Steve, he pokes at her and squeezes her arm to make sure she is, in fact, real, "OW!! Jesus!!!"

She bats Steve's hands away, "Ok, enough. Listen, did you open the fan club mail this month?"

"The fan cl-? What the hell are you talking about?? Is this a nightmare? Am I dead??!! Is this Hell??!!!" Steve shouts into the air.

"In this month's fanzine, it explained everything. The band wanted to stop and spend time with their families and start new projects, but the press was getting to a fever pitch with them. Gareth had his bins rifled through. Jeff couldn't even take his kid out for his birthday without getting hounded. So Eddie came up with this plan. That way, no one gets blamed for breaking up the band. It just is no more." Robin explains compassionately to Steve.

"So the whole crowd, all of you and the bands, they all knew it was fake?" Steve asks quietly whilst everyone is still staring at him and Robin.

Robin nods but then adds, "Well, not the other bands. We couldn't risk it, but we and the fans are loyal enough to keep a secret. Plus, if anyone even tries to say they've seen him, they'll be labelled like those Bigfoot-spotting people."

Steve shakes his head, "But I'm not a member of the fan club?!"

"The absolute audacity!!! What, you fucking love me, but you're not a member of my band's fan club? What kind of half-assed groupie are you?" Eddie shouts, astounded and a little insulted at Steve.

Jeff turns to Eddie, "You knew he wasn't, man. You made him that special membership card at the hideout for valentine's day, but you never gave it to him, remember?"

"Shut up!" Eddie says through gritted teeth at Jeff.

Steve stands more confidently, his hands on his hips, "Oh, is that so?"

"Yeah, that's right", Gareth laughs, "And then when we were talking about this, you said you'd call him and tell him yourself, Eddie, remember?"

Eddie bites his bottom lip and tries to look as innocent as he can from under his hair, smirking over at Steve, "Did I say that? Really? Funny thing that... I don't remember"

Steve's eyes go wide, "Why, you little shit!!" Steve runs and lunges for Eddie. Eddie is laughing and yelling as he's being chased around the stage by Steve, who eventually captures him in a bear hug when he runs the wrong way around the drum kit.

"urgh...god...let me..." Eddie struggles angrily and tries to wriggle free as Steve squeezes him.

"Oh-hoh no, you are going nowhere, you little prick!" Steve says, squeezing him tighter, making Eddie's face screw up, "What you did, was so not cool!"

"I...only...did...it...cus..." Eddie tries to talk, but it is difficult. He can hardly breathe.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Excuses. You wanted to make me look like an idiot!" Steve says with an unimpressed tone.

Eddie's face is turning pink as he frantically shakes his head in a no.

"Oh, you didn't? Then why?" Steve says, loosening his grip enough for Eddie to take a breath.

Eddie's body sags a little as he takes a deep breath, "Because... I wanted to see if you'd be sad if I died." Eddie says quickly, "I mean, I didn't expect you to agree to headline and the whole speech, you know?" Eddie says, trying to hold back an adoring smile.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head in disbelief, "You made me go through a month of grief to see if I would be sad if you died?"

"Well...it was supposed to be just a day, but then I got genuinely distracted by everything, and then it was two weeks later, and then I thought I could surprise you by jumping out of the coffin, and you'd be overjoyed and I'd say something romantic to maybe win you over, like..." Eddie looks everywhere but at Steve as he details everything.

"Like what? What could you possibly say to make up for that, you complete shithead!" Steve says with an angry squeeze, making Eddie wince and groan.

"That I fought an army of angels and the hordes of hell for one kiss from your sinfully perfect heavenly lips because you're my muse, my love." Eddie manages to get the words out with a struggle.

"What?" Steve says, lessening his grip.

"The songs I write, the ones with my name next to them on the albums, they're all about you," Eddie says as he catches his breath.

"What?" Steve says again, wholly bewildered and fully releases Eddie.

"Our first number one, the one that got a Grammy, and was used in a bunch of movies. That's about you. The um, slow one with the choir on the unplugged album, that's about you. The one we close the shows with, the one with no words, that's about you too. And loads more," Eddie says, adjusting his clothes, looking back up at a dumbfounded Steve, "What? You had no idea? You don't remember? in the garage? You corrected the spelling of sleeve, but it was supposed to be Steve. I just forgot to cross the t" Eddie looks between Steve's eyes for a glimmer of comprehension.

"Ohhh", Steve says finally and points at himself and smiles.

Eddie smiles back at this lovable weirdo and nods.

Steve claps his hands together and looks pleased as punch, turning to the others still pointing at himself with a look of happy surprise. 

Everyone nods at him except for Mike, who throws his hands up, "Are you kidding me? The song we danced to at our wedding was about Steve??? Oh my god!" Mike has to be consoled by Will and Nancy.

Steve eventually turns back to Eddie with a massive smile on his face.

Eddie plays with his hair and looks coyly up at Steve swaying from left to right, "So I dunno, do you maybe wanna come live on a secret island with me for a few years until people forget about me, maybe? I mean, I'll have to get my hair buzzed first, and um, lose the whole rockstar get up" Eddie looks up hopefully and gives a cute little shrug.

Steve folds his arms and taps his lips thoughtfully, "Hmmm."

"OH, MY GOD! Could you grown-ass idiots just kiss already? I could be solving the mysteries of the goddamn world, ok? But instead, I'm stuck here waiting for a long-haired freak and his little ex-sailor boy bride to figure out what everyone else knew years ago!!" Erica shouts, exasperated.

"Apart from Mike", Dustin whispers.

"Yeah, except Mike, who is also on team dumbass!" Erica adds.

"Hey!!" Mike says, annoyed, and is immediately swamped by Will, Joyce and Nancy as Hopper pats Erica on the shoulder with a smile.

"Get offa me, sasquatch!" She says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you heard the lady," Steve says with a smile walking with an over-the-top swagger towards Eddie.

Eddie grins mischievously, jumps up to grip onto Steve like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, and kisses him, once on the lips, with an audible mwah sound.

Steve looks at him with a laugh, "I hope you've got more where that came from because you've got a lot to make up for, Eddie Munson."

AO3 Link

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie stranger things #steveharrington #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #dustinhenderson #dustin henderson #corrodedcoffin #corroded coffin #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #minific #madaboutmunsonmini #madaboutmunson

[nolita-fairytale]

living on a remote island with sirius & raising baby harry together (remote island au)

au headcanon where you and young!sirius black flee the country to live on a remote island and raise baby harry instead of going to azkaban

pairing: sirius black x fem!ravenclaw reader

warnings: none.

a/n: ok so hear me out: i thought that this is the last part. but then. i had some ideas of how this remote island au would fit into the storyline of hp so i may write two epilogues (one where it lines up with the hp storyline and one fluff happy ending).

thank you again to all who have read, liked, reblogged, and commented. there's an instagram account called @aendthesea and this is what i feel reader, sirius, and harry's lives are like on the island. check it out if you're a visual person like me.

part one | part two | part three |

there's a letter in the kitchen of the cottage from your father that explains that it's not safe for you to meet up with your parents yet. you must wait a full two weeks to make sure that you haven't been followed and you're sure that you destroyed the armoire correctly.

when sirius finally comes to a few days later, he's expecting to wake up in azkaban. boy, is he surprised to find himself overlooking the mediterranean as he makes his way out onto the back porch.

"what did you do?" "sirius, i couldn't let you go to azkaban for a crime you didn't commit. remus helped me. he wasn't the traitor, sirius he-." "i know. it was peter. the traitor. that bloody rat."

your conversation is interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. as you emerge from the house with baby harry in your arms, sirius falls to his knees in grief, the events of what happened coming back to him. he knows that it means james and lily are dead.

there's so much grief but sirius grieves more openly than you. he grieves for his best friends. for baby harry. for the life he was almost condemned to.

waking up in the middle of the night to sirius having nightmares.

sirius has major survivor's guilt.

about a month after you settle in, you receive a letter from dumbledore. remus has gone to him for help. he will keep your secret and help cover it up, as long as you agree to let harry come back for school. you both oblige willingly and figure, it's a problem for future-you-and-sirius.

moving from the safe house to a home inside of your parents' villa. while not pleased that they've practically become grandparents overnight, it takes one look at harry for them to fall absolutely in love. and they make great babysitters.

adjusting to life on the island takes time but sirius is beginning to warm up to being only a short walk from the beach.

roaming the island sirius in his animagus form (he is a wanted fugitive afterall) and becoming known around town as the girl with the black dog.

giving in and finally marrying sirius because, you know, for the diplomatic immunity, of course.

having a competition of who can learn the native language fastest, then competing with each other who can learn the rest of the languages that line the coast of the mediterranean.

once it's safe for you and sirius to venture into more mainland territories, sirius begins exploring in his human form. sirius continues increasing his new language skills by reading sleep training books in the native language, after baby harry regresses and refuses to sleep through the night.

sleepless nights because you two have a freaking baby.

sirius really brings a whole new meaning to 'speaking in tongues.' think: sirius speaking french in bed and then all of a sudden he switches to greek, italian, or turkish. he's got a real knack for it too.

baby harry is bilingual, that is, until sirius begins teaching him french. can you imagine a harry potter raised in the mediterranean?

enjoying a slow life filled with simple pleasures: walking to the beach, eating slices of melons & fruits under the warm sun, and sunday sauces that simmered on the stovetop all day long to pure perfection.

keeping an herb garden, pulling lemons straight off of the trees and making lemonade for the three of you.

family beach trips with lots of sunscreen involved. baby harry absolutely loves the water and as he grows older, you practically have to pry him out of the ocean to get him to come to dinner.

while you take up photography as a hobby, sirius finds an old piano that someone's just left on the street and takes it in. he takes up his old hobby, playing the piano and humming along. singing and playing lullabies to harry omfg.

having a long conversation when harry first calls sirius 'dada,' and deciding how you'll tell him about his parents. debating whether or not you let him call the two of you mum and dad and questioning what lily and james would've wanted. you decide to let him choose when he gets older, what he'd like to call the two of you.

sirius has a phase where he wants nothing more than to give harry a sibling to play with, but you know it'll be too complicated with him being a wanted man. he's fallen head over heels for harry and for being a father, but you feel it would be irresponsible to bring your own child into it.

"gods, you're so beautiful. c'mon, just think about it. harry and a little brother... or little sister." "sirius, i-, we're barely twenty two! i love being harry's godmum more than anything and i just-, i don't know." "bet you'd look so good carrying our baby too, love." "sirius... damnit. we can practice if that's what you're getting at." "always, my darling. always."

also, does anyone think about how the marauders would've only been 30-32 when harry began hogwarts, yet they were played by grown ass adults in the movies? just me? ok, cool.

taglist: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

#sirius x reader #sirius black x reader headcanon #sirius black headcanon #sirius black x reader #the marauders #marauders era #padfoot #sirius black fluff #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black imagine #harry potter au #harry potter headcanon #harry potter

[host-club-hq]

Pretend

➼ pairing: tamaki suoh x reader

➼ summary: you've let an untrue secret slip to your parents, and now you're counting on the king of the host club to save you from it all

➼ word count: 6.9k

➼ what to expect: "I have a proposition for you, of sorts."

➼ warnings: slight angst

➼ commission for my lovely friend, @glomp-me 's friend!! happy birthday! we both hope you enjoy reading!!

➼ stay tuned for an absolutely lovely piece of fanart of this fic at the very end done by none other than @glomp-me

"Young Mistress! Supper is ready!" A maid hollers down the hallways for you. You perk up from your attention directed to your laptop, fingers across the keyboard coming to an abrupt halt when the idea of food registers in your mind and causes your stomach to growl. You promptly shut your laptop and launch yourself eagerly from your bed, "Coming!"

You slide into the dining room in your sock-clad feet, nearly stumbling over yourself. Your parents greet you with questioning looks as they watch you plop into your seat and straighten your posture. 

"... what?" You cock a brow. Your father sighs. "Oh, nothing." He decides as the kitchen staff arrives behind each of you, spreading your napkins over your laps and setting down the tableware. 

"Ooh, Ramen." You mutter as your plate is presented beautifully. Finally, you snatch up your chopsticks and grab a bite, lifting it to your mouth when you catch the unamused gazes of your parents settled on you. 

"y/n." Your mother scolds quietly under her breath. You groan. 

"Right,” You sigh. “May I begin?" You roll your eyes mockingly. 

"Yes, you may." Your father finally picks up his utensils much more slowly than you. You make a giddy noise and shovel the ramen into your mouth with vigor. 

Your father glances to your mother, who shrugs and shakes her head as if to say, 'What are you gonna do?' 

Of course, your parents stuck you in private etiquette classes early in your childhood in hopes you would grow up with a habit of perfect manners and behaviors. But, you quickly learned that your perfect etiquette could be reserved for important dinners and prestigious events... not at home every night. As a result, your parents can only have nightmares about how you behave in your friends' homes and at other events. 

Fortunately, you know how to put yourself together when you need to; you just see no reason to have to impress your parents. 

Unlike most parents of students of your financial standing, your mother and father have unconditional love and respect for you as their daughter. You don't want to take over the family business?  They'll hand it down to one of your siblings or a good friend that they trust when they retire. You want to date a commoner? Sure, just be safe, please, and let us meet them first! You're not doing exceptionally well in school? Let's talk about the underlying problem, and we'll help you navigate through it to keep your grades up. You don't want to be a businesswoman? Well, what career would you like to pursue? 

"So, y/n, how was school?"

You glance up, mouth full. You swallow noisily, "Fine." You shrug, dipping down for another bite. 

"Is it going well?" Your mother pushes further. 

"Same as always." You sigh in exasperation.

Your father slowly pokes at her meal, "There must be something going on. How are your classes going? Any life updates?"

"Love life updates?" Your mother interjects with jokingly curious brow movements. You scoff.

"Me? Right." Your friend group tends to revolve around other girls your age, and you've never even really looked at anyone in school differently than... a bystander, a classmate, an acquaintance. You happen to get along much better with other females, although you idly nod along when they whisper and squeal to you or other friends about the dreamy boy they're crushing on... usually they're all from the same group. 

Sure, you can agree and probably argue the fact that there's a particular group of boys that are stunningly, ethereally handsome. So much so that you can't even begin to understand how God crafted them by hand or why they took so much time on those individuals, but... you wouldn't say you want to pursue any romantic relationship with any of them. The Host Club may be an attractive group, but you pay them little to no mind. 

"I refuse to believe that there is not one boy at your school that you don't think is a little bit cute." Your mother pinches her fingers together to emphasize just how little. 

"What about those boys at the Host Club? Many of your friends' fathers complain about how much their daughters frequent their club, so they must be something. It's just a bonus that they're all extremely well off, you know."

"No, dear, remember? The newest member is an honor student." Your mother dabs the corners of her mouth with her cloth napkin. 

"Oh, yes, that's right. I hear he's more than intelligent enough to make his own way."

You've tuned out their conversation about Haruhi as you slowly chew your food, lost in your thoughts. You guess you simply never thought about joining your friends in attending the Host Club... the thought never occurred to you. 

You're asked a question by one of your parents; you couldn't say which, and you blankly nod, humming a faint, "mhm," and think nothing of it. 

"Really? You like one of the Host Club boys?" 

Your eyes become wide, and you realize you made a detrimental mistake in your absentmindedness during this conversation. 

"Which one? Is it one of the Hitachiin brothers? Morinozuka? Fujioka?" Your mother's attention is suddenly solely on you. 

"Uh..." You don't even remember most of their names... so you resort to the last option. He's in quite a few of your classes, and you've gotten somewhat acquainted with him... you guess you could call him a friend.

"Suoh." He's got to be reputable enough... everyone knows who Tamaki Suoh is.

"Oh, Tamaki is just wonderful! Always so polite." Smiling proudly, your mother continues to await your continued responses. 

You nod, "Mhm, he's very wonderful." You sincerely hope that this entire ordeal will blow over. 

"Are you dating this boy?"

That's... the opposite of blowing over. You crane your neck to glance at your father with bewilderment, about to vehemently deny his inquiry, when you catch the hopeful look in your mother's eye, "Oh, are you?" She gasps. 

You can't seem to stop yourself from letting out a hesitant and awkward, "Yes….Yes, I am." 

Oh, Christ, are you in trouble now...

"Why didn't you tell us? We have to invite him to dinner straight away!" Always diligent; your mother is already making plans. 

"Well done, y/n. Tamaki is a wonderful young man, and he comes from quite the family." Your father nods approvingly. 

You can't deny the way your heart flutters at the expression of pride but then proceeds to sink when you realize the weight of this situation. You've just claimed to be dating possibly the most prestigious boy in the entirety of Ouran Academy... how have you dug yourself in a grave this deep?

"Please, invite him for dinner one night! I want to hear everything."

"Sure thing, Mom..." Your wide eyes dart to your plate and stay there for the remainder of the night. 

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"Welcome, my princesses! It is our pleasure to serve you." The Host Club has assumed an interesting take on wait staff. Today, they're dressed as butlers and are waiting on each guest as if they were all in the errand boy role. 

"May we get anything for you, Mistresses?" The twins approach a table full of guests with formal bows and arms folded behind their backs. They swoon in earnest. 

"Quite an interesting concept..." You glance around apprehensively, trailing tentatively behind your group of host-obsessed friends. 

Suddenly, your little soiree is bombarded with the personality of the king, "Welcome back, princesses!" His glittering eyes slide over to your unfamiliar gaze, "Oh, y/n! It's so lovely to see you here, although unexpected! Your friends talk about you a lot, you know."

You nearly glower at your friends- how on earth are you brought up in any conversation they've had with the handsome host? And... what are they saying? 

"We finally got her to come visit you!" One of your friends squeals. 

"Well, it's my pleasure to introduce you to our humble corner of Ouran Academy." Tamaki bows like a true prince descended from royalty.

Your friends shove your shoulders with a smirk,  drawing a grunt from you as you stumble closer to Tamaki, "We reserved you some one-on-one time! Go on." Giggling and whispering ensue as Tamaki takes you gently by the hand and leads you to a lone table near the quieter end of the clubroom. 

Like the gentleman he is, he assists you in sitting across from him, gracefully placing himself in the opposite chair and leaning toward you with a charming smile, "Princess, please, tell me everything about yourself. I hardly know you outside of class." He tilts his head in the most adorable manner, smiling a pearly white smile as his enrapturing violet eyes are trained on you. 

You clear your throat, "Well, first thing's first... I'm not actually here for the... er, services you offer." You dive straight to your goal. 

Tamaki isn't anticipating that answer, "Oh... alright, what would my princess like to see me for, might I ask?" He tilts his head and does his best to regain his facade after dipping into a slightly dumbfounded state of mind. 

"I have a proposition for you, of sorts." You hum, resting your chin on your intertwined fingers with a devilish grin.

You move on before allowing him to ask any sort of question, "I need you to be my boyfriend."

Blinking, Tamaki chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck with his well-practiced answer, "I'm sorry, princess, I'm not looking for any type of relationship at the moment-"

You raise your hand to effectively halt him in his hasty excuse, "Neither am I, Suoh; just hear me out." 

Your serious tone of voice catches him off-guard, "Then wha-"

"I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. You see, I might have possibly let it slip to my parents that I was dating a member of the Host Club... your name was the first to come to mind. You know my parents, do you not? The l/n’s?" 

Caught entirely out of sorts, Tamaki stammers, "O-of course! Your family is very well known; how could I not?" He mutters nervously. 

"It'll only be for... possibly a week? Maybe more, but I digress... I'll do all of the heavy lifting; you won't have to lift a finger, trust me. You just have to show up when I need you, so my parents know you exist as my boyfriend..."

"Princess... As much as I'd like to help you out, my guests, they'd-"

"I have considered that, and here's what I've come up with." You seem to be keen on interrupting him. Tamaki pouts and shuts his mouth. 

"When I no longer require your services... we'll fake a dramatic separation... think of the attention you'll receive and how your guests will console you to no end. They'll be devastated that your heart has been broken, and although I will undoubtedly receive the blunt end and every girl within a 10-mile radius will despise me... think of the glory you'll be basking in."

Tamaki hadn't thought about it that way... it would surely draw attention to him and the club in turn and satisfy the budget he'd overlooked when on a prop shopping spree earlier this week... without Kyoya's knowledge, of course. 

"I'm sure I can count on your acting skills to satisfy the role. Do we have a deal?" You extend your hand in a professional manner with a cocked brow. 

Sitting stiffly, posture rigid and anxious, Tamaki gulps, "Well, the attention would be nice... and at least you're not a total stranger... who would I be if I weren't helping out a friend?" He shakes your hand gently with a nervous smile. 

You smirk; you knew you could count on his sympathy for others. 

"So, um... how does this work?" His voice shakes slightly, glancing around anxiously. 

"Leave that to me... though you might want to be prepared to receive confessions of broken hearts and jealous stares tomorrow."

"Huh?"

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The following day, Tamaki is swarmed the moment he enters his first-period classroom. Primarily by girls, but some boys have joined in the mobbing as well. 

"How could you do this to me?"

"We're so happy for you, Tamaki!"

"Wow, that was really bold! Good for you!"

"How will I ever go on?"

The responses are... quite varied. Some express sob stories; others are pats on the back and 'congratulations.'

... what exactly did he do? 

He spots you standing in the middle of a different mob, twirling an elegant letter between your fingers with a smug smile and a hand on your hip. Tamaki blinks, trying his best to listen in. 

"Read it again, y/n! It's just so dreamy." Tamaki recognizes a student as one of his regular guests.

"If I must: “y/n, my love, you are like the calm to my storm, the soother of the wild, crashing waves of my heart. Like a goddess, you rescued me. I humbly ask that you be mine as if such a mortal man could tame such an immortal queen. I patiently await your answer, Tamaki Suoh." 

The girls squeal, and Tamaki receives more friendly claps to his shoulders and back, nearly knocking him forward. Is... he supposed to have written that letter? Of course, he assumes this is all part of your plan... and you sure are set on making it as believable as possible. That definitely sounds like something Tamaki would come up with in the spur of the moment. 

"Is it true, Tamaki? Are you really in love with y/n?" Tamaki cannot tell whether or not the question comes tearfully or excitedly. 

He hesitates but catches your urging eye, "... yes. I'm unfathomably in love with y/n, and I just needed to ask if she would accept me." He easily falls back into his hostly facade, falling to your side on one knee and cradling your hand while his other cradles his chest in the location of his heart. 

You chuckle, "Wow, I really don't know what to say." You turn away from his eyes bashfully, and Tamaki must admit, you're quite the actress yourself. You've managed to bring a pink tint to your cheeks. He can feel one of his own coming on... strangely involuntary. 

"I would be a fool to deny you, Tamaki." You smile prettily. You lean down and peck his cheek quickly, nearly catching him off guard. But, Tamaki Suoh is a strong man- ever the actor.

"At last! My princess, I've been waiting for you." He pulls you into an iconic, intimate embrace, one that you recognize from his club activities. 

Pretending to be your boyfriend should surely come easily to Tamaki, the King of the Host Club, seducer of women... an easy feat to him. This'll be nothing more than charming a guest, right? Just... a little bit longer, that is. It's literally his job; nothing could possibly go wrong... could it?

You, on the other hand, are thinking similar thoughts. You were never attracted to any of the boys in the Host Club, and this shouldn't deter you from that abstinent path... should it? You mean, it'll be easy. You consider yourself a strong girl, able to brush off flattery of all sorts. This'll be a breeze... right?

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"That must be Tamaki. Could someone get the door?" Your mother continues to direct the wait staff, and a maid scurries off to answer the door when the doorbell is rung. 

It's been a few weeks since you've begun this charade... you wanted to make the relationship believable, and you couldn't have Tamaki come over just a day or so after he'd 'asked you out...' To be fair, you really hope that no one in your class, or their parents, happens to mention the exact date that Tamaki performed his proclamation of love... because you told your parents you were dating before this plan fell into action. You keep your fingers crossed at all times these days. 

Your heart drops, and you discreetly hurry after the maid, peeking around the corner as she opens the door. The moment you see that head of blonde hair, you duck behind the corner and pray that you haven't been seen. When you gain the courage to peek around the corner, the maid is taking Tamaki's coat, and you decide to make your appearance. You inhale deeply and step out from hiding, dusting the lap of your dress off as you stride to greet him.

Tamaki's eyes catch your appearing figure, and he smiles. He looks dashing. 

"Glad you could make it... sorry for the short notice." You chuckle nervously. Tamaki shakes his head, "Nonsense! I'm happy to be here."

Just as the conversation lulls, your parents appear in the entry hall. 

"You must be Tamaki Suoh." Your father acknowledges, announcing his presence. Tamaki immediately bends in a deep bow. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. l/n." He straightens with a bright, close-eyed smile. 

Tamaki doesn't expect your mother to embrace him tightly. He grunts, arms pinned to his side as your mother constricts him. 

"Wonderful to meet you, Tamaki. You're just as handsome as y/n described you." She teases. You can feel steam coming from your ears as your cheeks turn a pale pink. 

Tamaki scoops her hand into his own and bends slightly to place a gentle kiss on the back, "The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. l/n." 

"Oh, how charming. Your little club must teach you a lot." Your mother chuckles, touching her cheek gently as she admires him.

"Yes, very charming. Let's move on, shall we?" You urge. 

"Oh, that reminds me, I wanted to get a picture of the two of you!" Your mother briefly leaves the room and ushers in one of the maids, who sets down a tripod with a camera; another follows shortly with lighting. 

"What?" You inquire dumbly as you watch your maids scurry around like professional photographers. 

"Go on, y/n, get closer." She waves you closer to Tamaki. You take a baby step, smiling sheepishly. This picture is going to come out atrociously. 

"Closer. It's like you aren't even dating." Your mother scoffs. 

… how funny. 

You spare Tamaki an apprehensive glance, but the smile he gives in return seems to calm your nerves just enough. You carefully loop your arm through his and lean against his side. 

"That's perfect. Look over here- one, two..." The camera flashes, causing you to blink rapidly at the sudden burst of light. 

"Is this awkward?" You whisper through clenched teeth to Tamaki. 

"Not if you don't think about it." He whispers back, teeth clenched in a smile in the same fashion. You nod to yourself.

"Now I want a romantic one... alright, let's see." Your heart beats with the anticipation of your mother's following words. 

"Oh, I know. y/n, kiss his cheek, just for a moment." 

"Huh?" You gawk, tensing considerably at her words. 

"If you'd prefer to kiss his lips, that would suffice as well-"

"Cheek, I'll do cheek." You rise on the tips of your toes and peck Tamaki's nearest cheek. He isn't expecting you to comply so quickly with the instructions; he's absolutely positive that his reaction was caught on camera- flushed cheeks and wide eyes. 

"Darling, I think we should move on." Your father glances at his watch with an exasperated sigh. 

Scoffing, "Oh, alright. We'll do more another time. Dinner awaits!" The maids scurry off with the equipment, and you lead Tamaki behind your parents to the dining room. 

Thankfully, dinner isn't as sufficiently awkward as you imagined it would be. There are rarely silences; most of the time spent at the table is filled with chatter, small talk, and silverware clinking against plates. You sit beside Tamaki across from your parents, glancing up now and then when your mother asks a question that catches you off guard. 

However, nothing prepared you for this next tone. 

"I can't believe we haven't asked yet, but how did the two of you meet? I know y/n doesn't frequent your club, so it leaves me wondering." Your mother asks casually. 

You genuinely believe the both of you will answer with something along the lines of, 'Oh, we're in the same class. It was bound to happen at some point.'

Tamaki has other plans, it seems. 

"I'll never forget the moment I first laid eyes on y/n." He begins with, adorning his theatrical voice, and you know you're in for a ride. 

"We've always been in the same class, but it wasn't until about a year ago that I really started to think differently about her. I don't even remember what question our sensei asked; all I can remember was her articulate answer..." Tamaki sighs dreamily, glancing over at you with an incredibly boyish smile. 

You find yourself smiling back at him in earnest, your heart pulsating with a strange sensation when he gently pats your hand resting on the table with his own twice. Your fingers feel electric, almost causing you to flinch at the bolt of electricity that shoots up your arm. 

"That was when I knew I was intrigued. The rest was history, right Sunny?" 

You blink, "Sunny?" You nearly laugh. 

"The light of my life needs a nickname, doesn't she?" 

You want to coo at how absolutely adorable that little pun was. You manage to keep to yourself, however. 

"y/n has always been such a smart girl. No surprise there." Your father chuckles as he sips from his glass. 

This acting like your boyfriend thing is coming a lot more easily to Tamaki than he anticipated. That might have seemed like quite the practiced script to you, but Tamaki spoke from the heart. He even caught himself off guard with that story. Not one word of it was dishonest, now that he thinks about it. He remains silent for the next few moments, brows slightly furrowed as the gears in his brain turn and creak in order to understand where the hell that story even came from. 

Because that really did happen. The sensei had asked a question to the entire class, and it seemed like no one was going to answer for the longest time until... the sensei pointed to the back of the class with a smile. Naturally, it caused everyone in the front to turn back, including Tamaki. His eyes landed on you with your hand raised timidly. His eyes were glued to your lips as they formed around the words in your answer, and Tamaki can't even recall anything you said.

He didn't know that's how he felt about that moment until he regaled your parents with the tale. He quickly retracts his hand from yours and folds them on his lap, becoming increasingly embarrassed as he lets his fringe cover his eyes, hiding the blush spreading up to his ears. 

The remainder of the meal is just a tad quieter than every moment leading up to that point. The entirety of the time, however, you're still reeling from his story. To Tamaki's advantage, you don't recall that moment ever existing, but the notion that he was quick enough to come up with an anecdote that detailed... it has you feeling some sort of way. A sort of way that makes you feel giddy enough to squeal if you hadn't control over yourself. 

The next time you sneak a glance at his side profile, your heart soars... and you catch it. You shove it down from cloud nine and quickly turn away, blinking to yourself as if to ask...what the hell?

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The following week or so at Ouran is filled with jealous glares from delusional girls and varied reactions from your friends and classmates. The question you're constantly asked is- how's Tamaki? Are the two of you doing well? The two of you make a wonderful couple, don't you agree?

And you find yourself agreeing with them. It's kept your parents exceedingly happy and proud that you managed to accomplish a feat such as this. That was your goal, after all... all of this to please your parents. 

You seem to be forgetting that goal. It almost feels as though you're really dating Tamaki at certain points. He often sends you unprompted little gifts that you look forward to at least every other day, signed with a poetic love letter each time. 

While, at first, the thought of keeping this up for so long gave you significant discomfort, like you would be carrying a burden all this time, you've grown to dread the moment that this charade will come to an end. As a result, you're always looking for excuses to keep up the act until you've simply had your fill. 

And it's utterly confusing. Why has this idea bloomed into constant anticipation of when you'll see Tamaki next? Constantly expecting his small gestures of affection and poems on your desk almost every morning? Why does your heart flutter when your classmates mention your names together in the same sentence? Why do you find yourself daydreaming to the thought of him?

Have you grown to... like dating Tamaki? 

That thought stops you abruptly in your tracks one day while wandering down the halls. Strangely, the hall is empty, and you've noticed you're walking past the ever-so-infamous Music Room #3. Forgetting the pressing thought for a moment, you briefly think to yourself that you might pay your fake boyfriend a visit because... what else are you doing? 

Just as you're going to turn the door handle, you notice that it's already cracked, and you hear hushed voices on the inside. You're about to push the door open and announce yourself when... your name is mentioned. 

"This thing between you and y/n has been going on for a really long time-"

"- aren't you getting tired of it?"

The notorious sentence structure of the twins. Your brows furrow. To be honest, you didn't expect Tamaki to keep the relationship a secret from them. It was far too out of character for him to suddenly acquire a girlfriend without their prior knowledge of something going on between them. So, understandably, you expected the entirety of the Host Club knew of this arrangement... but the current conversation is what has you bewildered. 

Meanwhile, inside, Tamaki blinks owlishly at their question, "W-what do you mean?"

"It's gotta be tiring."

"Yeah, all of your guests are leaving." Kaoru leans on his brother's shoulder. 

You feel an immense wave of guilt wash over you. Both of you had anticipated a dip in his guest rate... but you assumed they would gradually come back. 

Tamaki finds himself missing the attention of his guests, it's true. But, every time he finds himself missing them a bit too much, he happens to bump into you, and you always manage to put a smile on his face. Then he asks himself the question... what was I upset about again? I can't seem to remember. 

"Oh, um..." Tamaki can't find the words that won't give him away, "At times, it's tiring…I guess?" He purses his lips, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

Behind the safety of the door, your heart sinks. But, the onslaught doesn't stop there. 

"Why did you agree to this arrangement again?" Kyoya sighs with an underlying tone of exasperation, eyes focused on the dwindling numbers of their profits at the essential loss of the king's priority. 

Tamaki pouts, "She was a friend in need. I didn't think it would have such a big effect." 

Coldly, Kyoya adjusts his glasses, "She's running our club into the ground." In question, Tamaki peaks at his numbers and notices the exponential drop. He gulps. 

"She's just become a nuisance at this point... you're probably going to have to do something." Kyoya turns to his best friend in question. 

"I guess you're right..." Tamaki grumbles childishly. 

You do your best to blink away the tears forming at your waterline at Tamaki's agreement with the harsh statement. You always knew Kyoya was an asshole, and anyway, what good is his opinion?

What really sinks in is the inevitable end to your little fake relationship, and that's the reality you refuse to bear. 

A bit too loudly, you shove yourself off the door and storm down the hallway, using your sleeve to wipe away stray tears haphazardly. 

The door creaks, gaining the attention of the twins, Tamaki, and Kyoya. All they see is a flash of yellow; none of them quite catch who it was. 

"Who the hell was that?" Hikaru deadpans, not bothering to rise from his position, head and arms perched atop his brother. At the thought of a distraught or upset guest, Tamaki springs to his feet and is in the doorway within mere seconds. A natural reaction, really. 

Your retreating figure is unmistakable. Tamaki allows himself a few seconds of utterly confused silence before he's calling you, "Sunny?" 

You turn over your shoulder, suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of hurt that quickly converts to anger, "What?" 

Tamaki blinks at your harsh tone; maybe his heart pulsates strangely. "What are you doing here?"

You scoff, "I'm just leaving, actually." Arms crossed over your chest, you turn to leave again. Tamaki stumbles over his response, "Wha- where are you going? Don't leave!" He pleads, almost playful. He doesn't understand the gravity of what you've heard. 

"I'm not stupid; I heard everything." Your voice grows a tad quieter. 

"What do you mean you-" Tamaki stops himself with a gasp, heart falling out of his ass when he recalls the conversation between himself, Kyoya, and the twins.

"So, excuse me." You push out, trying your hardest to tear your tearful gaze away from him. 

Turning back for a moment, you sigh, breath shaking, "If I'm so tiring... why help me?" Your gaze is glued to the floor. 

Tamaki's next words come out in a rush, "But you're not-"

"Don't lie!" You raise your voice; a pathetic hiccup follows, furthering the crack of guilt in Tamaki's heart. 

"I should've known. If I'm such a nuisance and you're so tired of me, then I guess you don't have to do it anymore." 

"Sunny, what are you saying-?"

"I'm-" You're at a loss for words, the nickname once again catching you off guard, you blurt out the only response you find appropriate, "I'm breaking up with you!" 

Tamaki lets out a breath unknowingly, eyes growing wide with your jarring declaration. 

"There. Now your guests can have you, and you won't have to deal with me anymore." Spinning on your heel, you manage to storm off for good this time. 

"Please, Sun- y/n, wait-!" Unfortunately, by the time Tamaki makes it around the corner himself, he's lost sight of you. 

And it really feels as though you broke off a meaningful relationship... his heart clenches painfully, and he feels like crying. He clutches onto the fabric of his blazer near his chest, and he can feel his lip tremble ever so slightly, eyes wide-set in panic when he can't find you, eyes glossy. 

But... he got what he wanted... right?

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"What's with the boss?" Hikaru inquires curiously, brows furrowed with confusion as his eyes fall on Tamaki's thoroughly unamused figure seated with his guests. He lacks that charming smile and sparkle in his eye that the hosts recognize so familiarly. 

"Dunno, he's been like this all afternoon." Haruhi is bewildered by his behavior, as well. 

It's a well-known rumor by now that you and Tamaki have terminated your relationship... which, in turn, caused a flock of Tamaki's former guests to come crawling back to him with words of encouragement and reassurance. 

While the hosts thought he would bask in the attention with his lonely prince facade that they all know so well... he merely offers them a sad smile, nodding in a simple thanks, and listens to them as they continue to ramble on about how much they missed him dearly and while they sympathize with him, they're glad he's back to hosting for them. 

Tamaki's eyes are set upon his guests... but he's not looking at them. Instead, he's entirely elsewhere, chin propped on his hand, violet eyes hooded wistfully, and posture slouching. 

"You would have thought that the end of that arrangement would be a good thing." Kyoya crosses his arms, notebook tucked under one of his arms. 

"Oh, he and y/n broke up?" Haruhi cranes her neck to glance at the host members behind her. 

"They weren't a couple; they didn't break up. They just ended their arrangement." Kyoya reminds monotonously. 

"How did you not know that?" Kaoru grumbles, brow raised. 

Haruhi shrugs, "Well, now we know what's got him depressed."

"But he wasn't really dating y/n-chan... so why is he so upset?" Honey whines, subconsciously clutching Usa-chan in his arms as he and Mori appear beside the other hosts. 

"It's not like he's upset because it's over...right?" Kaoru turns to his brother with curious, nearly concerned eyes. 

"Only one way to find out." Hikaru looks past his brother as Tamaki wanders over to them, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes trained on the tile floor. 

"Hey, Boss, why the long face?" Hikaru presses. 

"What do you mean?" Tamaki doesn't spare him a glance, eyes still cast on the floor. 

"You're usually more..." Haruhi is at a loss for words. 

"Animated?" The twins try in unison. Haruhi nods, "Yeah, usually you'd be soaking up all of this attention." Haruhi follows his trudging figure with her eyes. 

"Now, that would be vain, wouldn't it?" Tamaki disappears without another word into the backroom of Music Room #3. 

"Vain? I don't ever think I've heard him use that word referring to himself." Kyoya observes curiously, brows furrowed. 

"Is Tama-chan okay?" Honey peers upward at Mori.

"Dunno." Mori shrugs shortly, glancing to the rest of the club members. 

"I think it's time one of us pay y/n-Senpai a visit." Haruhi sighs. 

Hikaru and Kaoru glance at each other and then to Haruhi, "Huh?" 

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The Ouran library is a place you can count on for solace. You don't necessarily frequent to browse the literature selection, but rather to do school work or simply take refuge. The library rooms aren't often particularly quiet, but the commotion is bearable. 

Haruhi drags her feet to the doorway, groaning as she leans against the door. She's been searching the entirety of the school grounds for you and has yet to find any trace of you. 

"Come on... she's gotta be somewhere," Haruhi grumbles as she shoves open the door. 

But there she finds you at one of the many tables, cheek propped in your hand as you flip mindlessly through a book you procured from one of the shelves. 

"Ah, Senpai!" Haruhi becomes a bit too excited for the expected volume in the library. All heads turn toward her and "shhh!" in unison. 

You lift your head at her outburst, brows furrowing as she apologizes in a hushed tone to the remainder of the room and hurries over to your position. 

"Haruhi?" You whisper as she frantically pulls up a chair, panting heavily. 

"I've been looking everywhere for you." She groans, slumping over when she finally takes a seat. 

"Why have you been looking for me?" You spare her one last glance before turning back to your book boredly. 

"I heard that... you and Senpai broke it off?" She inquires timidly. You lift your head to meet your eyes once more. 

"I... thought you knew it was only pretend." Your voice has become considerably quieter, more demure. 

Haruhi nods, "That's what Senpai told us, but he's been acting strangely." 

You hum boredly, "How so?" You flip another page with the undertone of disinterest, cheek back in your palm, and propped against the table. 

"Ever since he told us it was over... he's been... kind of depressed, I'm not really sure how else to describe it."

You cock a brow, "Depressed?" You scoff, shaking your head to yourself and turning back to your book. 

Haruhi sighs at your lack of interest, "Senpai, if I can read anyone... Tamaki-Senpai is by far the easiest to read; he's an open book." She decides to be quite frank with you. 

Your interest is suddenly peaked once more, ears practically on alert to listen to her plea, "Where are you going with this?" You ask bluntly. 

"Tamaki-Senpai is a great actor, don't get me wrong. But whenever you came around... I just have a feeling he was being genuine, you know? Maybe it was how he looked at you; I don't know." Haruhi chuckles to herself, raking her nails across the back of her neck as she decides how she'll continue. 

"Do you really think so?" Haruhi doesn't miss the hopefulness in your tone; she would be a fool to simply dismiss it. 

"Trust me... I spend way too much time with all of them, and it's not easy to make Tamaki-Senpai truly long for someone, but somehow you managed to do just that." She laughs

You can't help the smile that tugs at both of your cheeks, promptly shutting the cover of your book and standing to your feet. 

"I really appreciate you, Haruhi." You gently pat her shoulder before brushing past her, feet moving to their own accord as they take you sprinting out the door and around the corner. 

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Silence is the only thing that accompanies Tamaki in the long, seemingly endless corridor. The pink light through the windows illuminates his figure as he drags himself along, eyes downcast and head slightly hung. His blonde locks cover the top of his vision as his hand haphazardly keeps his school bag to his side. 

It's a miracle he doesn't notice another figure turning the corner so abruptly that they almost go tumbling down. He only glances up to the sound of hurried, frantic footsteps that approach him, heels clicking loudly in the silence and stopping just meters away from him. 

"Is it true?" 

Tamaki could recognize that voice anywhere. He brings his head up, eyes finding your panting frame nearly trembling with nerves- or excitement, neither of you can really tell. Before Tamaki even gets the chance to open his mouth, you speak again. 

"I know Haruhi isn't known for being a liar, so part of it has to be true." You exhale deeply, finally catching your breath. 

Tamaki's just as stunned by your presence as you are to have heard the news you were just told, "Do you really have feelings for me, or are you just some... some amazing acting scheme?" 

Tamaki feels as though he's just had the life knocked out of him, exhaling audibly at your question. 

"Was it just pretend?" You finish with, your lips trembling and threaten to split your cheeks when you catch his relieved simper. 

"I could never pretend with you, Sunny." 

You're unable to stop yourself from lunging toward him, arms thrown around his torso in an almost desperate embrace. Tamaki reacts immediately and well-practiced, bag falling immediately from his hand as his arms wrap tightly around your back, holding you close. 

Just as you press your cheek to his chest, he rests his chin atop your head and closes his eyes with utmost relief, finding that peace overwhelms his soul in waves with you slotted into his arms like a lost puzzle piece. 

Your breath trembles in an exhale, gripping his blazer tightly in your fingers so that you'll never lose him again. 

"If it wasn't obvious... I have feelings for you, too." His chest muffles you. 

Tamaki hums in a soft chuckle, pulling away just enough so that he can gaze into your smiling eyes. 

"Not even I could have overlooked that."

If you were to put a name on your safest place, on the place that you feel the most at peace, it would be right here in the arms of the most idiotic, spoiled rich blonde that you've ever met in your entire life. 

isn't this just lovely?? absolutely amazing.

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Adieu~ 🌹🌹🌹

#tamaki suoh #tamaki suoh x reader #tamaki x reader #ouran #haruhi fujioka #kyoya #haruhi #hikaru #kaoru #tamaki #honey #mori #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #kyoya ootori #mitsukuni haninozuka #takashi morinozuka #takashi #mitsukuni #ouran host club #ohshc #OHSHC #ouran high school host club #host club #tamaki smut #tamaki fluff #tamaki angst #reader insert #x reader #tamaki imagine

[thegreatcanadianjackalope]

Hi!! Little prompt for Izzy/fang/frenchie— could we maybe get some Izzy comfort? It could be safeword comfort, things going too quickly and Izzy flipping out, anxious that he safeworded, or it can be comfort for anything! Just lots of Fang and Frenchie working together v well and in sync to take care of their scrungly little man <3

Summary: Frenchie and Fang notice Izzy isn't sleeping well. They want to do something about that.

Fluffy Hut/comfort with some mild discussion of trauma (canon typical)

Note: I love this! I'm going to save the safeword comfort for another story because this is the story that jumped out at me when I read your beautiful prompt.

This is unedited right now. I might come back and clean it up later but for the moment my focus is on getting the writing flowing.

Music inspo for this fic is Rosy Golan's It's Been a Long Day

Fang found Frenchie organizing goods in the hold. He knew it was still weird for Bonnets crew to see Frenchie and Jim doing so much work, but Fang was honestly pleased to see that neither of them were backsliding into laziness. If anything, their hard work was rubbing off on the others.

“Hey, man. How’re things going?” Fang asked.

Frenchie startled but settled into a smile when he realized it was only fang. “Good, yeah. Things are good. Just, you know, keepin’ busy.”

“And everything’s good with the mind box?” Fang asked, gesturing vaguely at his head.

“Yeah, good. It’s good. Everything is you know…” Frenchie trailed off as he looked into the distance.

“Good?”

“Yes. Yeah. Exactly.” Frenchie said, brightening back up.

Fang decided to leave that alone for now. “Listen, have you seen Izzy recently?”

“Saw him this morning, why?”

“Did you notice that he looked a little… unwell?” Fang asked.

Frenchie scoffed. “What do you mean? He looks loads better than he did before. He’s got his new leg on, he’s clean, and he doesn’t even have any visible bruises.”

“That is true,” Fang hedged. “It’s only, I don’t think he’s sleeping much. To me, it looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days.  

Frenchie looked considering. “Hmm, now that you mention it. I did see him practicing his sword fighting really early this morning, and Wee John said he was working real late last night.”

“I guess I’m just worried about him. The rest of us don’t sleep good at all, and we agreed he’s the most fucked up of all of us, so it must be worse for him.” Fang said, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

“Yeah, but its not so bad now that the crew is back because if one of us wakes up from a nightmare another crew person is always right there.” A moment of realization seemed to dawn on Frenchie. “Except Izzy doesn’t sleep in the crew pile. He sleeps alone. In the room where Blackbeard took his first toe. Oh shit, babes. Can’t say I blame him.”

Fang felt a blush creep up his neck at the nickname. He absolutely did not let himself giggle. Frenchie calls everyone that. He wasn’t flirting with fang. Besides, Fang was supposed to be solving the Izzy problem. “I wish we could just convince him to join us in the pile, but I don’t think he’d ever go for that.”

“I mean, he has loosened up a lot lately, but that might be a step to far. What if we brought the pile to him?” Frenchie asked.

“I don’t think that’s better. If anything, he’d be mad there was no one watching the deck.”

“No, I meant you and me. We could go to his room tonight and force him to sleep and tell him we’ll watch out for him,” Frenchie suggested.

Fang considered this. Actually, it made sense. Izzy wouldn’t really trust the rest of Bonnet’s crew, Archie and Jim had a particular energy about them. One that wasn’t conducive to a full night’s rest.

Fang agreed and they made plans to meet at Izzy’s room later.

….

Izzy sat heavily on his bed. He knew he needed to take off his hoof and check his leg, but he couldn’t make himself move. He was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emot—nope. Just mentally and physically. He was having trouble sleeping. That was all. He couldn’t sleep because they were heading into a new season and the sun cycles were changing. It was all to be expected. He’d adjust. He would.

Izzy was startled from his thoughts when he heard a knock at his door. Before he could respond, the door opened, and Fang and Frenchie spilled into the room.

“Oh, yes, please do come in. Thank you for knocking. It was very considerate of you,” Izzy said sarcastically. Though he knew that his words lacked their usual edge.

“Hi boss,” Fang said, brightly, “We were hoping to spend the night in here with you.” Frenchie was nodding in agreement.

Exhausted, Izzy asked, “Why? There are plenty of places on the ship if you’re too cold to sleep on deck.”

Frenchie said, “Yeah, but the thing is that Fang here has been having nightmares, and he said he hasn’t been feeling safe enough to sleep lately.”

Frenchie jabbed Fang with his elbow and Fang said, “Oh yeah! Everything that happened just keeps coming back to me. And I thought ‘hey what place is safer on this ship, than with Izzy Hands?’”

The crack of a cannon, a flash of lighting, the glint of light on a saw, and the smell of gunpowder flashed through Izzy’s mind in quick succession. His stomach rolled and he clenched his jaw.

“I’m a cripple now boys. You’re better off with just about anyone else on this ship. Hell, you’d be better off on your own. I’m a liability now.” Izzy didn’t like how truthful the words were, but he was just too tired to cover it up.

Fang frowned, “Boss, you literally saved our lives. You understand that, right? We would be dead without you. Lying at the bottom of sea.”

Izzy scoffed but didn’t argue he didn’t have the energy. He also really didn’t have the energy to watch over them tonight. It was on his tongue to say no when the image of a scene he walked into popped into his head. Fang crying into his cake and Frenchie staring blankly, emptily into the distance. And then, bizarrely, the feeling of Fang’s arms around him and Frenchie’s palm, warm in his.

“Okay, you can stay here. I’ll make sure you’re safe,” Izzy said. He couldn’t tell them that this room had long since been safe, but he thought he could probably make it safe for Fang just for tonight.

“Great!” Fang exclaimed and then immediately went over to Izzy’s dresser. “Frenchie help me with this.” The two began dragging the dresser across the floor.

“What the fuck?” Izzy asked incredulously.

Frenchie explained, “We’re blocking the door with the dresser, so no one can get in. This way, you don’t have to stay up all night.”

“I thought the whole point was that you needed me so you could feel safe,” Izzy said, suddenly feeling useless despite not wanting that responsibility only minutes before.

“This is just the first defence, boss. This way if Blac—Someone tries to come in, we’ll hear them and you’ll be ready to protect us,” Fang said.

“And if there’s a fire?”

Frenchie laughs, “A fire? We’re on the ocean. We’re literally surrounded by water.”

Izzy sighs deeply. “There are so many things wrong with that I don’t know where to start.” The thing was though. In Izzy’s 35 years at sea, he’d only really had to deal with one major fire. Fire wasn’t what kept him up at night. In fact, just seeing the door blocked by that heavy hunk of wood was settling something in him he didn’t care to examine. “Fine. If it makes you feel safer.”

Izzy began the arduous process of removing his peg leg. Before he could even get the straps undone, Fang was by his side.

“Let me help you with that, Izzy.”

Izzy growled, “I’m a cripple not an invalid.”

“He knows that,” Frenchie said. “Helping you will make him feel better, innit? Don’t you want Fang to feel better?”

Izzy huffed but didn’t move to stop Fang as he eased the false leg off and placed it to the side. Fang loosened the tie on Izzy’s pant leg and pulled the leg up his thigh. Izzy wished he had some semblance of embarrassment about this, but the four of them had seen Izzy in every stage of loosing his leg so it wasn’t like he could say it would be a shock for Fang.

Frenchie brought over Izzy’s water basin and said, “Here you go, babes.”

Abruptly, Izzy took in the scene before him. Fang, kneeling on the ground, about to wash Izzy’s stump, while Frenchie watched. Heat creeped up his neck and he felt a bit woozy. This was too intimate. He was too vulnerable. He needed to put a stop to this. He was about to do just that when Fang began gently dragging the cloth across the raw skin.

Izzy’s eyes fluttered shut. When he did this for himself, he was impatient and rough. It had always hurt. Now, with Fang being careful, it didn’t feel good exactly, but it was nothing like the pain he was used to.

“It’s looking better. Does the new leg fit better? You don’t have as many cuts and wounds.” Frenchie asked.

Izzy tamped down on the flare of emotion that burst in him at the mention of that fucking leg. He didn’t think he could speak without his voice cracking, so he just nodded in reply.

Fang smiled up at him and said, “That’s great, Izzy. Glad to hear.”

“You know,” Frenchie said frowning, “Your thigh muscles are looking really tense. Maybe I should just…” As he trailed off, he reached over to grasp at Izzy’s thigh.

Izzy made it through approximately thirty seconds of Frenchie massaging his thigh before he felt a lance of heat in his groin. He jerked back and choked out, “That’s enough. Thank you. I think it’s time to sleep now.”

Frenchie gave him an odd look but didn’t argue. Izzy was honestly shocked that he had felt anything even approaching arousal. He wasn’t sure it was going to possible for him after the Kraken.

Frenchie took the spot next to the wall and Izzy waited for Fang to get in. When he didn’t, Izzy looked at him quizzically.

“If it’s okay with you, boss, I’d rather take the outside. I find it more comfortable, and I get hot easily,” Fang said.

Izzy wanted to argue. Wasn’t the whole point of being here to make fang feel safer? Shouldn’t Izzy be closest to the door so he could spring into action if necessary? Izzy wanted to argue. He really did. But he was so tired. He just didn’t have it in him. His body, without full permission from him, crawled in next to Frenchie.

The bed wasn’t that comfortable for one person, never mind three, but somehow, they made it work. Izzy didn’t protest when Fang’s arms slid around him. There wasn’t really another way to make it work. Frenchie’s head rested against his shoulder and Izzy found he couldn’t really complain about that either.

Izzy was warm, his body was pressed against on both sides, there was no way someone could barge through that door, and he could finally feel himself drifting off to sleep.

Just before he slipped off, he heard Fang’s gentle voice. “You know, Frenchie, that mind box won’t hold forever.”

Izzy felt Frenchie shift against him, could feel the protest coming. In a raspy, sleep filled voice, Izzy said, “He’s right. Just look at me. I thought I had everything locked up tight. Eventually, something has to give.”

Frenchie laid a hand against Izzy’s chest in acknowledgement.

In that same quiet voice, Fang said, “I’m here for you if you need to talk, Frenchie.” Then Fang gave Izzy a squeeze that felt a lot like ‘you too, Izzy’.

No more words were said that night. Instead, Izzy fell into a blissfully uninterrupted sleep.

#Fang/Frenchie/Izzy #A new ship name has been suggessted #Kitty bites #let's see if it catches on! #ouizzy #Frenchie/fang #Fang/Izzy #izzy hands