Coffee?

he’s literally so cute I wanna cry

Heyo fellow Panko Shrimps!

I've been in somewhat of a slump lately and I haven't been doing the best mentally. As of late, my days have consisted of naps, serial killer documentaries, and college.

This leads me to my request: would anyone mind tagging me or sending me some fanfiction that they've enjoyed? It can be anyone or anything, but seeing some of the things you guys are interested in might help me with my own writing! I also need a tad bit more happiness in the upcoming days so this would be a serious motivator.

You guys mean the absolute world to me and I hope you're having the bestest day/night wherever you are. Keep being beautiful and handsome and attractive and wonderful humans.

As Jimin likes to say: "You're so lovely, I'm so lovely, we're all so lovely."

💛🦐

There are not enough hours in the day to listen to Mixtape: OH as many times as I want to.

💛🦐

Sorry I'm Late, Sweetheart.

Eddie Munson X Reader

When your four friends decide on their plan to defeat Vecna, you're instantly aware of how dangerous this mission will be. It's more difficult than slashing a Demogorgon or hiding from the Mind Flayer and you're unsure whether you'll get out safely. After Nancy is taken, the only thing you can do is lay your life on the line.....and play the most badass rock show the world has ever known.

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, blood and gore⚠️

The cold dark air rushed all around the five of you, snagging at your clothes and brushing your hair every which way. The ashen sky fell with literal ash and painted your clothes with the grey color, almost as a warning of how intertwined with the universe you were to be as you continued on with your weapons in hand. Your shoes scuffed up the ground of the once familiar Hawkins and the vines at your feet made it difficult to navigate without the fear of falling or becoming entangled in them. It was a dark day indeed, and everyone knew it. No one had the comfort of knowing they would make it out of this alive and that resonated with the silence that hung in the air and clawed at your skin; your bones becoming heavier and heavier as you trudged on with tears starting to form in your eyes- wondering if this was the last moment the five of you would share.

Your clothes and everyone else's had been tattered with the previous encounter of Demobats: pesky little things that would be the equivalent of a small demon dog. It had bit Eddie and Robin before they had been slashed by Steve and his axe which he had brought along with him in preparation for this fight. Steve had saved you guys many times, tonight wasn't an exception. He looked older now, a stark contrast from when he was the seventeen-year-old you had first met with his cute haircut and bright eyes. Now, he was filled with a sadness that seeped through his skin and wore out his features, his face a permanent expression of exhaustion and worry. Nancy wasn't too far behind, her face had worn itself out as well and bags were starting to form under her eyes. She was worried about the outcome of today and about Jonathan whom's safety she was always unsure of. Robin's lips were formed into a permanent frown and Eddie....Eddie was the most determined one out of all of you. Lines on his face creased with nervousness and fear as to what came next, but his eyes shone with a passion you had never seen in your life. He was ready. Ready to defend himself and his friends.

You slowly progressed up to where Eddie was walking leading the group and slipped your cold hand in his warm one. He didn't turn to look at you for fear that he would burst into tears at the idea of losing you, but he gave your hand a squeeze to which you did back to him. It was a calming gesture of sorts, and you could feel the confidence slowly coming back to you with having him by your side. His Hellfire shirt seemed like a tease at a life you missed so much: one that was filled with friends and mysticism that only existed in board games. You craved to have that sense of normalcy back; a time where you weren't forced to be a hero.

"Everything will be okay." You whispered, enough for him to hear you. His hair swayed softly with the wind and he chewed on his bottom lip.

"In case it isn't," he began, finally turning to you and you could see a single tear falling from his eyes, "I love you."

You felt your heart shatter. You were just a bunch of kids trying to make it in this world. It wasn't fair for your youth to be stripped away.

And suddenly, everything that was slightly calming about the situation completely evaporated the minute you turned around to check on everyone else. Eyes rolled back into her head and feet floating off the ground, Nancy was staring up at the cursed sky with her mouth slightly agape.

"Nancy!" You yelled, catching the attention of everyone else around you. Steve was the first to react by rushing over to Nancy and trying his best to bring her back down to the earth. Robin followed suit and grabbed one of her legs as she continued to ascend into the air. You and Eddie were at a loss for words or action. Steve had looked at you and almost in slow motion, he gave you the look of a panicked boyfriend even though him and Nancy had broken up long ago. He was terrified. And to make matters worse, there was no Walkman in sight.

"Music! What's her favorite song?!" You yelled, turning to Eddie for help only to realize that where he once stood was empty and he was rushing in the opposite direction. "Eddie!"

Eddie screamed out "I'm getting my guitar!"

With his shoes kicking up the strange otherworldly dirt and nearly tripping over seven vines, he ran faster than he ever had towards the trailer park in which him and his uncle lived. It seemed like a millennia ago, waiting for his uncle to come home from work and listen to Ozzy with him on the record player they shared. It was a fond memory, one of the only ones he had of his uncle that he liked to look back on, but he found this memory to be what continued to push him towards his house and to his guitar. Starting to sweat as he dawned the familiar woods that he used to smoke weed and hang out with you in, he threw off his denim jacket and pushed up his sleeves getting closer and closer to his fated destiny.

He threw open the door and practically fell into the trailer, slipping on the carpet that his uncle had insisted on keeping by the door so as not to track mud into his place. If only his uncle could see the mess now.

Eddie could see the portal back to his universe on the ceiling from where Chrissy had been taken. The vines surrounding the hole overgrown and cascading down all sides of the small living room and through to the bedroom and kitchen. They almost seemed to breathe, as if the entire trailer was alive rather than teeming with life. It was definitely a spectacle. The metal head thought to himself for a moment as he contemplated what it would be like to just jump back through the portal and be far away from here. To rid himself of anything Hawkins related and to relocate somewhere where he would never be found. It would be so much easier just to run away, to not have to be the hero everyone counted on him being.

But then he thought to you. And he quickly recollected himself.

Running to the bedroom, he saw his prized possession hanging up in front of his bedroom mirror, the only thing that wasn't touched by the strangeness of the Upside Down. The cheetah print red shine of the body called out to him and gave him a sense of purpose and time. The familiar strings he had played so many times brushed under his fingers and let out the softest hum of music. It was in tune. Just as he had left it.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart." He said, thinking back to the same words he had said when Chrissy was in his presence. He would've loved to be friends with her.

He grabbed the guitar and swung it over his shoulder, quickly finding the amps and power cords he had around his room. It was no easy task, but he moved everything to the roof of the trailer where he knew he would be able to play. He never imagined his first gig since leaving Corroded Coffin to be in another dimension, but he was totally digging the vibe. Cords, cords, and more cords were plugged in as he prepared himself to do the only thing he knew best.

Play music.

....

Nancy didn't have much time. The red sky loomed overhead which was a complete contrast from the familiar blue that she had just left. Everything that wasn't touched by the unsettling blood color was black. The vines, the trees, the ground. Victor Creel's house.

The mansion stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all the chaos of floating rubble. Its towers reached the sky, scraping it with its haphazard rooftops and shingles. The attic window was brightly lit while the rest of the house was pitch black, signifying where Vecna committed his acts of violence: terrorizing the town and dooming young teens to their deaths for what, Nancy wasn't certain. She remembers the lifeless corpse of Fred with his eyes sunken in and his limbs bent every which way. His scar was like a warning as it marked his face and his fate.

Nancy did a once-over and made sure she was okay. Her ribs hurt but it was presumably the fall that led to it. Her eyes burned and her veins jolted with the fear she felt in her entire body, matched by the adrenaline of the fight.

Suddenly, a figure loomed to her left as it joined her in staring at the front of the house. She didn't bother to look at it; to let it know that she was frightened. She wanted to put on a brave front. The figure was almost a foot taller than she was and she could feel the vines pushing out of the way for this being to walk. It's hot breath met her ear.

"It was such a lovely house." It said, making itself known. Nancy gulped back some of the fear she felt and allowed her fingers to nervously drum against the sides of her thighs. It was torturous just to be in the presence of Vecna as she knew how it was going to play out if the others didn't save her. Her body joining Fred and Chrissy, six feet under with a torso so bent out of shape they would have to create a custom coffin. The very thought chilled her to the bone.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, sounding more scared than she meant to.

Vecna turned to look at her and moved towards the front of the stairs, backing her into a corner. It was such an odd juxtaposition; an evil entity with all the power in the world being so calm towards her, as if this wasn't her death he was about to bring onto her.

"I will end all your suffering." He said, slowly lifting up his arm which was adorned with long claws attached to even longer fingers, moving to touch her face ever so gently but piercing into her skin. She closed her eyes and thought back to the night she was at Jonathan's house.

The alphabet was horribly drawn into the yellowing wallpaper, Christmas lights surrounding the entirety of the house and illuminating the living room and writing. The lights were going off one by one as Will tried to contact them, using the letters to form short words and sentences. Steve had been there too, a bat with nails in it and a black eye from his fight with Jonathan. The two boys looked at each other and then at her as they awaited what was to happen next. Nancy held the weight of a gun in her hands.

When the wall broke in and a Demogorgon appeared, it had been Steve that had acted first. With his bat in hand and baseball stance, he had struck the demon over and over again, watching it bleed out into the ground from whence it came. Even then, he continued to strike the beast over and over just in an attempt to protect Nancy.

He had saved her then, and he would save her now. Nancy was sure of it.

"It's the final countdown."

All of a sudden, her thoughts were interrupted by a song that was so familiar and overplayed she wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness and throw up with the fear at the same time. Her mouth contorted into something of a smile as Vecna released his grip on her skull, forcing Nancy to the ground as she looked towards the red sky that was now blue towards the far right of the house.

Turning back on the ground and taking one last glance at Vecna, she locked eyes with the creature that looked more angry than anything else.

"Fuck you." She said, and started running towards the blue light.

The ground felt like water as she tried to run the fastest she could away from Vecna. The floating debris of the house started raining down on her, trying to stray her from her path. One from the right and then one from the left, sending her onto the ground only for her to get right back up again and run even faster than before.

"We're heading for Venus..."

Nancy followed the song and followed the light, losing her slip on shoes in the process. Barefoot, she raced towards the end of this nightmarish hell, bracing herself for impact if she were to fall again. Catching a quick glimpse from behind her, she saw the beast wasn't too far behind.

"And still we stand tall..."

The silly tune guided her to the end of the light where she finally made out of the red portal and back into her body. Feeling a surge of motion sickness, she felt herself fill her body once again, feeling like the little pills with sponge dinosaurs once they hit water.

Dropping from the sky, she fell back into the arms of Steve, who was ready to catch her from the beginning. He held her closely, brushing stray strands of hair from her face and taking in her frazzled state. She was covered in dirt and there were scratches on the sides of her face that he swore hadn't been there before.

"Cause maybe they've seen us...and welcome us all, yeah..."

Eddie's music blared on from the woods, louder than anything they've ever heard. The Demobats started to fill the sky in search of the sound, rushing through the sky and towards the trees. You stood frozen in place as you watched them head towards your boyfriend. Looking towards Robin, she gave you a smile and tilted her head in Eddie's direction.

"Go save him." She said with absolute certainty and you felt yourself running towards your boyfriend before she even finished getting the words out. Your shoes made heavy stomping noises as you ran faster than you ever had in your life in hopes of making it in time to warn Eddie and beat the swarm together.

As you neared the woods, you saw his jacket lying on the ground and you picked it up, throwing it over your shoulders and running up to his residence, seeing him shredding his guitar and head banging like you had so many times when seeing him play for Corroded Coffin.

"Eddie!" You screamed, jumping up the ladder and racing to his side. He was so lost in the song, he didn't even notice you had joined him up on the roof until you grabbed one of the other guitars he had brought up there.

"Hey! What are you planning on doing with that?!" He asked over the music.

"Oh shut up! You have another one at home!" You said, preparing the guitar like a bat.

"You're such a badass!" He said as he finally gave you a smile since getting mixed up in the affairs of the Upside Down. The Final Countdown ended and Eddie took a look at his guitar, his most precious thing in the universe after you, of course. Giving a swift kiss to the body, he held it out in front of him and mumbled an "I love you" before he readied it like a baseball bat, same as you.

"Here they come!" You said, watching the Demobats fill the night sky and coming rushing down towards the two of you.

"This is the most heavy metal thing I've ever done!" Eddie yelled and then the two of you started beating the bats with the guitars, throwing them down onto the ground and the roof as you hit them over and over and stabbed them with the broken pieces. Eddie dropped his guitar and bit off the head of one, watching the blood spurt out onto the equipment that was now useless. You crushed one of the bats in between two of the amps and watched the blood spurt out and fly everywhere, coating your clothes in it. It would be a miracle if Eddie would be able to wear his Hellfire Club shirt again after this. Just then, two more bats came your way at full speed.

Eddie moved in towards you after finishing with his bat and pushed you off the trailer, holding you in his arms to stop the fall. He watched the bats get confused and continue to fly forwards in search of you as he pulled you up off the ground and rushed you into his house.

Locking the door and barricading it with everything in his sight, you both sat on the ground next to the couch to keep out of sight from the windows and to catch your breaths. Everything happened so fast, it was surprising that you two had made it out of that situation alive. Looking at your boyfriend you saw a couple cuts along his face and arms and you grazed his skin gently.

"Eddie. I saw you bit the head off a bat. You totally had your Ozzy Osbourne moment." You said, giggling slightly.

"(Y/N). That was singlehandedly the coolest moment of my life." He said.

The two of you made out on the floor of course.

*In the upside down*

Eddie: So uh, if we survive this, do you maybe wanna- idk-see a movie or something?

Y/N: Are you really asking me out rn?!

Eddie: W-Well I just thought with the VERY possible chance of sudden HORRIFIC DEATH, yeah, I’ll shoot my shot.

Eddie:

Y/N:

Y/N (blushing): Pick me up at 7.

Eddie (ecstatic): *throws fists in the air*

Steve: W-What the hell is happening?!

Robin: Teenage Romance.

I’m so sorry for my absence, guys 😭😭😭😭

do you ever not write for so long that you’re almost afraid to? like what if I’m dumb now

Don’t tag shit as sand dunes again I don’t want to have to scroll through your entire timothee chamalet fanfiction again. This has nothing to do with sand dumb ass.

Respectfully, shut the fuck up 💛

Hey,

First of all, I absolutely adore your writing style and in general your stories (especially the Hannibal ones). Could you please write one, where Hannibal is overly possessive, because he thought his wife got too close to Chilton at one of his dinner parties? And to end it all of there is smut. (If you are comfortable with that).Thank you for considering

Close Call

Hannibal Lecter X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Over possessiveness on Hannibal's part, slight angst, swearing, mentions of blood and wounds, sociopathic and manipulative tendencies, uhh first time writing smut so hopefully it's okay (it's fairly light) ⚠️

I also didn't read through this again and edit it, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors!

Hannibal finds himself somewhat outraged at an overly confident Chilton getting too close to his wife. No matter, he'll just have to remind the two of you of what's his.

Dinner parties were nothing short of extravagant when it came to Hannibal Lecter's craft.

The wines were paired with the delicacies adorning the plates on the mahogany table; everything had its own respective place, down to the last spoon and fork on each intricately folded napkin. There was, of course, the smell wafting through the corridors of the Lecters' home, signifying the delicious meal being prepared in the kitchen and acting as bait to those mingling in the living room as they awaited the call to be seated. From your perspective, the table had to be crafted to perfection so that the party full of rich good-for-nothings had no complaints of the events of the night. Of course, you adored your husband's cooking, but less so you enjoyed the company he chose. Intelligence wasn't something that came from the accumulation of degrees and the bragging of doing so- in your opinion- but rather came from the passion associated with the understanding of others and their natural environments. In other words, conversations of nonsensical retellings of the rise to power and gathering of wealth that these particular guests had were of no interest to you. These people spoke of books on law and work projects as though they've forgotten entirely what it means to express humanity: experience.

But you were ever so careful to express your opinion on the subject of what it means to be human. Although you acknowledged your differing perspective, you didn't want to diminish the perspectives of those who might only know of the desires associated with "book smarts," and not what you referred to as "experience points." These two things could coexist, but it was often that a person leaned heavier towards either side. You still had more to learn about the balance of these, but alas, that is the human condition.

Hannibal loved you for this.

Being someone so intensely driven towards the path of psychology and law, it was refreshing being married to someone who expressed opposition to having that be the basis of every conversation. He loved a good conversation on written words and philosophers and mathematical expressions, but he loved even more to have someone in his life that kept him his understanding of biology and the preservation of his humanity. With his- er- hobby, as some would refer to it as- it became difficult to maintain this humanistic approach. These dinner parties served more as an obligatory social preservation to his image, so as not to be caught with his peculiar hobby.

And the culinary arts were his escape, anyways. A win-win except for the fact you'd be bored out of your mind talking to some of these people, he knew. Nevertheless, you had a polite smile etched onto your face wearing very presentable attire. You were a master at code-switching, it seemed, replacing your usually laid-back and outgoing personality with a more hoity-toity, reserved aura.

You had on a slightly more revealing outfit; a dress so navy it almost seemed black under any lighting that wasn't direct candlelight. This dress had been cut just above the knees with an off-shoulder neckline, exposing the very top of your chest and the beginning of your upper thighs. It was classily paired with silver earrings gifted to you by your husband, and a half up-do with your precariously crafted curls threatening to spill out of the fastened hairclip from behind. Hannibal had expressed just how lovely you'd looked as he helped you with your zipper earlier, placing a hemline of kisses to your collarbone.

He wasn't the only one who'd had this realization dawn on them during the night, however. A bright-eyed Dr. Chilton who'd received nothing short of a pity-invite, found himself drawing away from the conveniently placed appetizers to the lavish chairs facing the fireplace where you sat. He silently waited for your conversation to conclude before he decided to sweep in and take the woman's place on your right, finishing the glass of brandy in his hand before doing so.

"(Y/N)," He almost seemed exasperated, as if he were already slightly drunk, "A pleasure."

He reached out his hand to you in an attempt to get you to shake it as an overly friendly gesture, acknowledgement to his presence. You proceeded to smile at him instead, as you'd become familiar to his intentions.

"Hello, Dr. Chilton, how are you?"

His face flushed as he withdrew his hand from your space, opting to rest it against his leg as he sunk further into his chair, getting more comfortable. He was definitely drunk and if not drunk, then the far side of tipsy. You already didn't care for the guy much, so this chance encounter was a hinderance in your eyes before conversational topics even arose.

"You know, I never understood the drab curtains you chose for the interior of your living room, Mrs. Lecter. They block out all of the sunlight." He began, eyeing the bottle of scotch being poured out by another guest to the left of your chair. His eyes seemed to be glazed over as he spoke, however, the dimly lit fireplace seemed to cast some light back into them. His suit of choice was a corduroy one. The heavy material of the fabric already making him break out in a slight sweat.

Grimacing, you feign another smile as you fully acclimate yourself to the conversation at hand. You tell yourself to remember your polite flattery, but honestly with the way Dr. Chilton was, you knew he would take any sort of attention to his character the wrong way.

"Yes, that was the way we intended them to be, doctor. Have you ever been to our home during the daytime? It's not as drab as you may have perceived it to be."

Dr. Chilton had been coming onto you for quite some time now. Despite knowing you were wed and the many implications of your marriage you'd spoken about, he still managed to hold onto the hope that maybe one day something would spark between the two of you. It wouldn't. It hadn't. His blatantly disrespectful comments about yours and Hannibal's relationship were starting to burrow under your skin and take root in an uncomfortable fashion. Part of you felt bad for the man, another part wanted to sock him in the face.

Respectably, of course.

"Perhaps not. Maybe I spoke out of turn." He claimed, uneasily moving about in his chair despite his initial comfortability at the beginning of your dialogue. Maybe if you kept with the slight I-don't-like-you innuendos, then maybe he would be drunk enough to give it a rest and would return to his normal self come morrow.

"Maybe." You agree, taking a sip from your glass of Chardonnay. It was almost dinnertime. You could hold out until then, couldn't you?

"You know," Chilton began, staring deep into the fire and allowing a hushed sigh to escape your lips in anticipation of another redundant comment, "I used to set fires in Uni all the time. Its a miracle I graduated with any degree at all with the amount of trouble I used to get into as a boy."

Pause. Was there finally something worthwhile to discuss with this man?

"Really? And the occasion was...?" You asked, trying to direct the topic back to this small bombshell the Doctor had just dropped in your presence. Experience points were far more interesting to talk about than a poor understanding of the "48 Laws of Power," which was the last conversation you'd had.

He seemed to perk up in his chair realizing that you'd finally taken something that left his mouth with interest. "None, we were just playing with matches and grew bored. Only got caught because the wind carried the flames back to our dorm which almost set alight." He smiled and for a moment, you could see the memory replaying through those glossy eyes of his. You felt included, as if you'd been there yourself, watching the growing light of the flames dance around the edges of the matches you were playing with.

As if on cue, your husband's hand was gently but firmly placed on your shoulder from behind. You knew instantly it was him because of the wafting smell of his woodsy cologne and the wine he was drinking infiltrating your nose. His grip on you was polite but there was an edge to it, an unfamiliar one at that. Was something wrong?

Turning around, you see his darkened glare towards Chilton in the chair next to you. His matching dark navy suit making him look all the more professional and intimidating in this light; if you were Chilton you'd have run far far away from the glare Hannibal had. He seemed to pay no mind, however, eyes still focused on you until your husband broke the silence:

"Dinnertime."

It was at that moment that you noticed all the other guests had made their way to the kitchen and the three of you were the only ones in the living room. How long had you been talking to the doctor for? Hannibal's repressed anger suddenly made sense.

Walking to the kitchen, you were in awe at the sight before you. Hannibal had really put his all into tonight, and it showed. The plates were nothing short of art with the first course on display with accompanying sauces and garnish that turned them into something out of a museum painting. The entire get-up was something out of the Renaissance itself; everything in its perfect place. Hannibal stood at the head of the table, glass in hand as he prepared to make a toast to progress the night's dinner.

"I would like to thank you all for coming out tonight."

A collection of smiles and exchanged glances ensued, everyone pleased with their invite.

"Amongst this crowd are the most intellectual and inspiring people I've had the pleasure of getting to become familiar with. You're all of high accomplishments and achievements and I would like to thank each of you, individually, with a meal that encapsulates such dedication shown by you all."

Your husband then smiled at you and raised his glass.

"I would also like to thank my lovely wife, with whom I share this simple but joyous life with."

There was a hint of something there, something alongside the adoration he expressed for you on the daily. There was a twinge of that anger once more, but could it really be directed towards your conversation with Chilton? It seemed so clear to you that your husband surpassed the former in every way possible: intelligence and compassion, hell, down to the formal attire he adorned himself with daily. There was no way he would feel threatened by another man so unruly.

"Likewise." You said, tilting your glass up to the ceiling in acknowledgement of his kind and respectable words.

"Once more to reiterate, MY wife and I spent a long time on this meal so I hope you all enjoy it." He smiled a forced grin and directed his gaze towards Chilton. "And nothing on the menu for tonight is vegetarian."

...

The night was filled with more of the usual countless bantering between everyone in the room, trying to appeal more and more to everyone else. You were swept into what seemed like every conversation in the house and all of this sociability was starting to grow exhausting. The meal was phenomenal, to say the least, but did little to calm your worries with your husband's current expression of intolerance and dismay. You wanted nothing more than to head upstairs to your shared bedroom and to sort things out with him; to maybe end the night with a passionate kiss and to then retire to bed, finally. That desire, however, seemed like miles away because of the ongoing event that you were starting to despise more with every passing minute.

Not to mention, your dress was starting to get extremely uncomfortable, as if your skin were melting into the seams of the fabric.

As if on cue to make the night worse, Dr. Chilton was making his way towards you, undoubtedly much more drunk this time. He was stumbling over his own loafers and the floorboards were not his friend at the moment. He was making a fool of himself and you wanted so badly to just disappear.

Just then, the floorboard by the fireplace where you were sitting popped up in front of him. Everything from then went in slow-motion, the wood, the stumbling of Chilton's feet and the slow advancement towards the fire. Seeing how this would play out, you wanted to yell "Stop!" but you were frozen. Just as you had predicted, he had a horrid fall towards the open flame, his cufflinks connecting with the place stones and his right arm breaking the fall. His hand wasn't lucky enough to miss the fire, his scream instantly echoing throughout the room.

"Dr. Chilton!" Hannibal yelled, already to his feet with the pitcher of water from the charcuterie table. It was insane that his reflexes allowed him to respond instantaneously. Almost as if he had prepared for the doctor's fall. Springing the water onto Chilton, the fire was put out almost as quickly as it had started.

"Are you okay?" You asked the doctor, leaning down to his level on the floor, holding his now hurt hand.

"B-b-bandages." He was able to muster out.

The closer look you got to his hand, the closer you could see the wound. The flames didn't consume his flesh for very long, although there was now a coating of red on his skin alongside a few open gashes. Looking to your husband for help, you instead saw him standing above you, a scowl on his lips. He looked angrier than he'd ever before and the sight of it scared you. Had he been angry that the party was ruined? That one of his guests were hurt?

Chilton was then led to the kitchen where his wounds were properly addressed and tended to. The aid kit that had collected dust on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet had finally been put to use, and, upon further inspection, it had been decided for the doctor to call for an ambulance for a more professional treatment.

He left. Everyone followed suit. It was now only you and your husband.

"I'm sorry that had to happen the way it did." You said, reaching out to touch his shoulder and soothe him in my way you could. "Would you like me to help you clean up?"

He mumbled something under his breath before he made his way up the elongated glass stairs. It was unbelievably peculiar for him to retire to bed this early, especially before cleaning up from a party.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, voice coming out as nothing more than a feeble whisper. He stopped in his tracks, his blazer now resting atop his free arm opposite to the one holding the railing. His tie was loosened and from where you were standing, you couldn't see his face all that clearly.

He finally spoke up.

"What are your intentions with Chilton?" He asked.

You stopped in your initial tracks to follow your husband up the stairs. Was he accusing you of courtship? And with the doctor of all people?

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N)."

Your heart broke for a moment, there was no way he really thought that after years of marriage, after what you had come to learn about him and his... capabilities...that you would choose another man, albeit in front of his own eyes?

"I have no intentions with Chilton, Hanni. Not as an acquaintance, not as a friend, not as a lover." You continued to follow him up the stairs and to your shared bedroom where he placed the blazer and tie on the bedside table rather than hang it up as he usually did. He undid his cufflinks and unbuttoned the top his neckline.

"I only want you, Hannibal. You know that."

He pursed his lips and finally, from where he leant against the bed, looked up at you standing in the doorframe. Your expression was a worried one, not of someone who had underlying intentions. Hannibal knew what you wanted, knew who you wanted, but Chilton had gotten the better of him tonight. And besides, tormenting the two of you to remind both of you who you belong to was a much more satisfying game to play.

"Alright." Hannibal said, accepting your validation with his thick, Danish accent. "Show me."

"I- what?" You asked, being taken aback completely by surprise. His eyes were dark with thoughts you had grown to be all too familiar with from him. Despite clearly understanding his interpretation of the words, you still stood frozen at the door, waiting. There was something about this that wasn't going to be as sweet as the usual slow and sensual intimacy you'd had with your husband and you knew this fact.

Just then, as if taking your hesitance as permission, he stands and walks over to you, the height difference ever so apparent now that you were face to face. His gelled hair was now starting to come undone, as was yours, as he held your gaze. His hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear and then trailed to your neck, your collarbone, your breast. He then allowed his hand to go further, down to your waist and then pulled you into him, holding you there as gently but firm as one could be. He was watching your face as he did so, never breaking eye contact even once.

Your breath hitched in your throat. A growing warmth developed in your midsection as your husband had you entranced with his every move. He was enjoying this, enjoying you, enjoying the situation he put you in. He had turned on his more sadistic side and it was becoming evident with the way he progressed down your body, replacing his hands with kisses and moving towards your thighs then back up, as if with haste, towards your mouth. You felt as though you were going to faint right then and there.

He suddenly stops his kisses and then goes to finish unbuttoning his shirt. His wide frame was revealed with every unfastened button popping off, slowly but surely. Every inch of his skin had been crafted to the likes of the gods, it was as if he were one of them himself. No imperfections in his skin as far as the eye could see. He was beautiful. He was the divine definition of beauty itself.

He swiftly moved his hands to your throat, fingers following suit as he held you there, against the bedroom wall, a juxtaposition to his masterfully divine beauty of feigned innocence. His breath was hot but not unpleasant as he whispered into the nape of your neck:

"You belong to me."

And that was all it took for you to fold entirely, becoming a puppet to his every command, desires of the flesh being the only thing on both your minds. You needed him and he needed you to need him. He wanted a full surrender, a full understanding that he was the only man you'd ever be able to fulfill these lustrous fantasies with.

"Do you understand?" He asked, not giving you a second to think any further before he moved you from the wall and to the bed, where he towered over you.

"Y-yes." You said, waiting to see what he would do next.

"Good. Now take it."

Confused, you looked up at him but he had already had other plans, flipping you into your stomach and forcing himself inside you, under your dress. The instant burn that you felt was replaced by immediate satisfaction as you saw stars. Through this position you could feel him inside you, hot and intense, pushing deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. He dug into you until he was all you could feel, hear, taste, see. He was owning every inch of your skin and forcing you to feel it.

And you loved it.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, anger laced in his voice.

"You." You tried your best to get out with the intense feeling between your thighs but it was next to impossible.

"What was that?" He asked once more, forcing you to say it louder.

Just as you were about to respond, he picks you up and turns you around to face him, taking in his expression. You were on your knees looking up at him, tears in your eyes at the intensity of what had just happened. Your dress was definitely ruined by this point but you couldn't care less.

"You." You said, waiting for him to say something, anything at all. He placed his finger on your lips and smiled down at you while he toyed with them. He then put himself inside of your mouth, your jaws stretching to be able to take him.

"Good." He said, quickening his original pace as he sighed with content. You allowed him to finish before the two of you fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets.

He was holding you in his arms now, making sure you were alright as he kissed the top of your head and face, looking at the marks he'd left on your skin. He'd make sure those were more visible the next time someone tried to intrude on your guys' company. Especially on a pity invite.

He'd also make sure not to let Chilton off with a warning next time, making sure to purposely set his entire body on fire, not just his hand.

But you were asleep soundly in his arms, full of him and he had won.

...

A/N : Hello! This is my first time writing smut kinda so I hope this is up to par with some other fanfic writers. I really hope this fulfills your request! Lmk if anyone has any other requests, my ask box is open! 🫶

Heyo!!!

Just wanted to hop on here real quick to say thank you to all of you who have been supporting my writing! It means the world to me especially since I'm so inexperienced. There are so many lovely creators on this app that I aspire to write similarly to! It's crazy to me how I started reading fanfiction back in 2014 and have now gathered the confidence to write my own, post it online and get all this amazing feedback!

I also wanted to say that requests are open! If there's someone you would like fanfiction of that you're unsure if I write for, please send the request anyways!!! It keeps it fun and interesting for me to learn about characters that I don't know all too well and to write them into a story.

And again, because I'm not sure if it was entirely clear, I want everyone to know that this is a safe space. For everyone. Regardless of sexual orientation, race, identity, everyone is welcome. I don't want anyone to feel judged!

Again, thank you for all of the support and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I'm excited to grow both as a writer and a person.

May all your shrimps be panko 💛🦐

F I R E C R A C K E R S

STEVE HARRINGTON X READER

He's loved you since the beginning. It's a shame you had to be taken from him so quickly.

⚠️ Warnings: angst!!!! Blood, death ⚠️

Steve held the firecrackers to his chest as he waited for the perfect time to throw it at the demon threatening the lives of his favorite people in Hawkins. The Mind Flayer- also known as the mysterious rat creature- had tormented everyone it came across. Now, as it finally stood inside the Starcourt Mall, it awaited its death in a valiant effort to fight back. Steve counted in his head the seconds before he would have to throw the fiery device at the creature created from the depths of the Upside Down.

"One, Two, Three, Four-" Steve heard Robin count before she threw her firecracker from the balcony. Her short hair flew with the thrust of her arm, hitting the back of the demon and watching a portion of its arm erupting into flames. She looked determined with a fierce glare that she directed at the Mind Flayer; eyes squinted and face contorted into one of complete and utter concentration. Steve had never seen her so focused.

And then, there was you. Watching the creature from the bottom of where you stood, feeling the agonizing burns of the firecrackers yourself. Connected to the monster, it was impossible for the group to make sure you stayed safe while they went for the kill. Your skin was ashen grey and the veins on your body shone black with the poison of the universe which ran parallel to Hawkins. You looked like a shell of the person Steve once knew you to be; the bright and happy (Y/N) that he loved so much and found so much in common with. The (Y/N) who went to all his basketball games and laughed with him in his car while The Police were softly playing from the speakers. The (Y/N) that always knew what to say to cheer him up after a bad day. The (Y/N) that he had asked out on that particularly cold winter day when he realized that seeing you wearing his scarf was a sight he didn't want to lose. You were still that person, of course, but now you were tainted with the horrible curse of the town Steve sought to run away from since the beginning of all this madness. You were still beautiful even though you weren't entirely yourself. And you were still his. Something he considered worth fighting for.

He counted down from ten before releasing the same firecracker into the direction of the monster which took you. He saw your eyes burn and your hands flail around until they reached your face, pulling at your eyes and dragging your fingers across your skin showing the pain you felt on the inside. The veins seemed to sear across your skin like black tendrils; vines opening up and crawling on every inch of your body. He felt a pang in his chest watching you being forced to suffer like this. He wanted nothing more than to have the old you back in his arms playing with your hair after the two of you woke up from another night spent at Steve's. It seemed like a millennia ago.

You screamed in pain and dropped to the ground just as the monster shifted in place, shrinking up against one of the walls towards the kids on the other side of the balcony: Lucas and Max trying their best to ward off the Mind Flayer.

Steve's maternal instincts kicked in and he ran towards the kids, much to Robin's avail. Her arm flung out in an attempt to grab her co-worker and friend as he raced towards the two fifteen-year-olds with their walkies in hand, firecrackers in the other.

"Steve!" Robin yelled, running after him as he tackled the kids into a protective hug just as the monster swung out and crashed its arm into the place they once stood. He held them close and squinted his eyes to try and block out the surroundings. This was all too much too fast. Robin joined him on the other side, holding Lucas close to her as she wrapped her arms around him protectively. He had a single tear threatening to spill down his cheeks and Max looked equally horrified.

You screaming once more brought Steve's attention back to what was happening below. Eleven had joined you in the fight with her arm outstretched in the air as she tried to push you back towards the monster and away from her friends. You floated just a few inches above the linoleum tiles, still in pain from your previous feat. Eleven looked deadly as she threw you to the ground.

"Stop!" Steve yelled before he even got a grasp of what it was he was saying. The guilt of you potentially being killed hit him like a train as he realized how this scenario was bound to play out. He had been too stupid, agreeing to fighting the Mind Flayer in hopes of getting you back, cutting you off from the demon permanently. The kids knew and Robin knew that it just wasn't possible.

"Don't kill (Y/N)!" He said, much more confident in his words and in more pain than he thought imaginable. Eleven turned to look at him with sorrowful eyes and an apologetic glance as blood dripped from her nostril above her lip.

"It has to happen!" She stated with utmost certainty. She knew this was the only way and as much as she hated the idea of losing you, she wanted to keep her friends safe. She remembered the times where you offered the kids rides from school and when you gave her advice about boys. You were so close to her, to lose you would be one of the worst things she would have to experience. But she couldn't lose Mike.

"But- I-I love her!" Steve finally let the reality of the situation hit him, his eyes spilling tears all over and his bottom lip quivering in fear and hurt. His heart shattered and his stomach felt as though someone were pushing a knife into him over and over, turning the blade every which way to deepen the wound. His head burned and his hands ached as he pressed his fingernails into the floor, blood starting to form from the tips of them. He had been scratched up pretty badly and the burning of his wounded eye was hardly anything compared to what he felt on the inside.

Steve's words caught your attention. Your mind an empty space of blackness finally felt as though it were opening up. You had no control over your movements prior to this moment and all you could feel was the searing of your flesh coming into contact with the burning sensation of the firecrackers. Running around aimlessly in the void that was your possessed body, you finally felt yourself able to take control- even if just for a moment. You turned to Steve and felt time stop as you looked into his tear-filled eyes knowing it was you that caused him that pain.

You smiled ever so slightly as another firecracker was thrown by Mike, bringing you back to the fight at hand. You winced in pain and felt the demon you were attached to move hastily towards Eleven, who had been knocked to the ground after her previous attempt at killing you. You were going to save her from this if it was the last thing you did. Running to her small body on the ground, you threw yourself on top of her and blocked out the monster's attack, feeling yourself ripping in two. Eyes wide and crying, Eleven looked down at the thing which stabbed you, the leg of the Mind Flayer itself, lodged into your chest.

And in that moment you thought back to the time Steve had asked you to be his. You had stolen his scarf when it was snowing, the falling pieces of sky finding themselves gently tapping your hair and leaving it in a small blanket of white. Your cheeks were rosy and your hands hurt from the cold but Steve's scarf had kept you warm. He was wearing his signature blue jeans and polo shirt with he letterman jacket from the basketball team at Hawkins High. His hair was also coated in snow and even though the two of you were practically freezing to death, he looked happier than ever.

"(Y/N)," he had said that day, "Will you be with me? Like- with me with me?"

You had smiled so much from his cute anxiousness and placed your hand in his. "Of course." You said, the happiest girl on earth.

You looked at Eleven underneath you and smiled the same way you did on the day Steve lent you his scarf.

"Tell Steve I love him too. Please." Were the last words you said before everything you knew faded to black.

...

A/N: I hope this is okay, I don't usually write angst but I was listening to Little Freak by Harry Styles and I'm all out of cookies. Enjoy :) 💛🦐