#if a thought that goes ‘i wonder why…’ comes to you you can look it up. between the internet and libraries and fileswaps you can learn

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Different Universes (Hannibal)

Description: Y/N ends up in the Hannibal universe and Hannibal falls for her

Warning: Smut, Cheating (sorta)

Word Count: 2,526k

Request: could you write a fanfic where the reader is a big fan of the Hannibal series, just goes about her day normaly,falls asleep and then wakes up in the Hannibal universe. She tries to figure out where she is (without knowing that she is in an alt. universe) and witnesses an actual murder, but manages to escaped unscathed with her knowledge of the Hannibal universe. After that she is contacted by the FBI, who want to interrogate her and this is how she ultimatly meets Dr.Lecter, who will be her therapist.(with her realising who he is).He quickly gets intrigued with her and wants to get to kniw her. Would it be possible to end it with some smut? Sorry, if this a really odd request.

Author’s note: I changed some things up but I really like these sort of requests. Also I work all day tomorrow so I will post two fics today.

Being married to a celebrity had it’s pros and cons. Cons being that fans were everywhere and so was paparazzi. You could never get a break. But the fans are what made Y/N’s husband who he is today and his talent of course. Pros being that the one person everyone thirst for on the internet you have. They love you and that it makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. And of course when you see them on TV it’s like watching your husband. Oh wait, it is. Y/N and Mads have been together for 5 years, married for 1. They were 20 years apart but that didn’t mean anything to them. Y/N is a fan of Hannibal and watches it all the time, like right now.

She always wondered what it would be like to be in the show. It was something that crossed her mind often. She even read fanfic about her husband’s character. She would give anything to be in that universe even for a day. So When she wakes up outside Hannibal’s house, she isn’t too upset. At first she didn’t realize where she was, but it looked familiar. It took a minute but she gasped so hard she started choking once she realized it. She was outside Hannibal Lecter’s house. She looked around in awe, she couldn’t believe that she was here.

She walked around his house for a little bit, exploring the place. “Can I help you?” She heard it was her husband’s accent. She turned towards the voice and gasped. It was Mads except it wasn’t, it was Hannibal. “You look lost.” He stated as she looked at him in awe. She couldn’t say anything, too shocked. “Can you talk?” He asked after a while of silence. “Yeah I uh yes.” She said, making the man chuckle. “Are you okay?” He asked. “I don’t know.” She answered, she really didn’t. “Come inside. I’ll make you something to eat.” She got excited at first but realized that Hannibal was a cannibal.

“Uh I’ll just take some tea.” She said as they walked in his house. His house looked like it did on the show. He poured the tea and she watched him. “Can you tell me why you were outside my house?” He asked as he handed her the tea. “I actually don’t know. One minute I’m on the couch in my house watching TV, the next I’m here.” He hummed at her words. “So you sleep walk?” He asked. She shook her head, “No.” He looked at her as she drank from the cup. She was beautiful and he felt like he knew her. “I feel like you do and don’t realize it. Have you ever woken up in a weird place before?” He asked, she shook her head. “No. This is a first.” She said.

He got up and walked upstairs leaving her there in her thoughts. Moments later he returned with a notebook. “I thought I recognized you. You’re my new patient. Y/N.” She looked at him confused. “Patient?” She asked. “Jack Crawford assigned you to me after you witnessed a murder.” She had no memory of this. “Um okay.” She said still confused but realized that she had woken up in this universe and this wasn’t a dream. She was a part of this show. Though she had no memory prior to waking up outside his house. “Right. Sorry I just forgot.” She lied. He nodded and opened the notebook. “I guess we can start our session now. Wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” He said. She looked at him as he wrote some things down. “Okay Ms. Y/N tell me what you remember about the murder.” She was fucked.

After the session was over she realized that she probably couldn’t stay here even though she hadn’t had a place to go. “I will see you next week.” He told her as she walked out of his house. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She had no memory of anything that he said. So she certainly doesn’t remember where her home would be. As she left his house she thought of what she could do. Thought of going back and falling asleep by his house but what would she do for a week? She huffed as she walked back to his house and rang the door bell. He answered and she sighed, “Can I stay the night?” 

It was beyond her why he agreed without explanation. She sat in the bed that he gave her and just thought. Thought about how crazy this was and how apart of her wants to go back to her universe. As she sat on the bed thinking she heard a knock. “Come in.” She said and Hannibal walked into the room. He saw how distraught she looked and he sat by her. “You okay?” He asked, concerned in his eyes. She looked at him, god he looked so much like her husband. She knew that he basically was but he wasn’t. “I don’t know.” She whispered. “Is this about not having any memory at first?” She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him the truth, that she wasn’t from this universe and that she’s married to his actor but he would probably think she’s nuts. But she couldn’t live in this world alone.

“I’m gonna say something and it’s going to sound crazy but I need you to bare with me.” He nods. She lets out a sigh and looks away from him. “I’m not from here.” She says. He looks at her confused, “What do you mean?” “Like this universe. I’m from a different one and in that universe this is a tv show called Hannibal. If i’m not mistaken given what you’re wearing this is season two and Will Graham is in prison for crimes he did not commit. You committed them but don’t worry I won’t tell. And your actor is my husband Mads Mikkelsen.” His jaw dropped and he looked at her in shock. He wasn’t quite sure he believed her. But how did she know that he was the killer? “Mads Mikkelsen?” He asked. She raised an eyebrow at him.

That’s really what he got out of all of that. “Yes that’s my husband, that’s you just in a different universe.” He didn’t know what to say, she sounded crazy. “I know I sound crazy.” “Well I wouldn’t say that.” He tried, she rolled her eyes. “But i’m telling the truth. That’s why I don’t remember anything from here like the murder or the FBI.” “But you told me the story.” “I lied.” He nodded. “I’m sorry Hannibal. I know this is a lot to hear.” “I’m a TV Show character and my actor is married to you and you are well aware that i’m the killer.” He summed up what he could.

She looked at her hands, “You have to believe me.” He looked at her. She had to be crazy, none of it made sense. Though he could read people very well and she didn’t seem like she was lying. “Do I ever get caught?” He asked. She looked at him, “Yes but you escape.” He nodded. “With Will. I mean you two are basically in love.” He gave her a weird look. “I’m not in love with Will.” She looked at him with a “really?” look. “I’m not.” He said. She shook her head, “yeah whatever you say.” “Does he love me?” She chuckled at the question but nodded. “One might say he does but you guys don’t get together. You almost kiss but that’s it. You might be together after the show ends. There isn’t a fourth season.” She tells him. “This is unique.” He told her and she laughed. “I know but it’s all true.” “So since the man you call Mads? Plays me do you find me attractive?” He asked. She looked at him, red in the face.

“I mean yeah. Of course I do.” She said. “So then if I kissed you, you’d be okay with it?” Her jaw was on the floor. “I uh I mean yeah. Yes, I would like that.” She said. He leaned in and kissed her. She was shocked that it came down to this moment but she wasn’t complaining. She kissed him back and cupped his face. Their lips moved in sync as thoughts were racing through both of their minds. This was all crazy. She got up and straddled him, pulling him closer. His hands were placed on her hips as she deepened the kiss. Her hands ran through his hair. “Have you always wanted to do this?” He asked against her lips. She nodded out of breath. “Yes.” He smirked and ran his fingers over her lips. “Have you thought about having sex with me?” She nodded and pushed him down so he was laying on the bed. His hands went under her shirt and she pulled it off her body revealing a red lace bra that she had on. His hands immediately went to her boobs. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells her and removes the bra.

She lets it fall off her before she throws it with her shirt. Her hands travel down his white shirt that he was in. He looked so good in PJ’s. “Take this off.” She tells him. He leans up and takes the shirt off, throwing it with her things. He didn’t have abs per say but he was still the hottest man she’s ever seen. She gets off him to remove her panties and he removes his PJ pants and boxers. She straddles him again and looks down at him. He looked up at her like she was his whole world, in her universe she was. His hands pulled her hips closer to where she was almost lined up with him. She looked down and saw his hard dick. Same size and thickness as her husband. He watched her as she lined herself up and slowly sat on his dick. He felt her walls taking him in like they were made for each other. She let out little moans until he was all the way in her.

His hands held her hips again and she began riding him. She went slow at first building up the pleasure. They didn’t break eye contact as her jaw dropped. It felt so good. He could feel her walls clenching him and it made him groan. How was he supposed to be in love with Will when she was here? Her hips started moving faster and faster making the pleasure more intense. Both of them making noise now, enjoying the moment. She leaned down and kissed him, silencing her moans. Their lips moved together in a sloppy kiss. It wasn’t a neat kiss, it was tongue and teeth and everything was put into it. Hannibal’s hands gripped her back as he felt himself getting closer. She gasped into his mouth as she felt her high near. Her eyes rolled back as her hips went faster.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face, it was like a pretty painting that he longed to see. She was so close she could taste it. “Are you going to cum, pretty girl?” He asked her. That’s all it took. She was cumming all over him with whines of his name. Seeing her cum, made him cum even harder. With a groan of her name he released inside of her. Her hips slowly move to ride out their orgasms. Her moans die down and her hips stop. She looks down at the man still shock that he’s Hannibal fucking Lecter. He stares back at her with a look in his eyes she knows all too well. It’s the same look her husband gives her. Is this man in love with her? 

She had to get back to her universe. This was so nice but she didn’t belong here. She belonged with Mads not Hannibal but since Mads plays Hannibal she does love him. But the time she has spent with him has been amazing and she didn’t wanna leave but she also wanted to get back to her life. Hannibal was a killer after all. She knows how this story ends and she truly thinks Will and him are meant to be.

As much as she loves him she doesn’t wanna change that. But these past few weeks have been amazing. She laid her on Hannibal’s chest as they just talked. “Is your universe different from this one?” He asked. It kinda was in a sense that the issues going on in this universe were the only focus and in her universe they aren’t just main focuses like that. Everyone has got their own problems. “It feels the same but from watching it on TV no.” Will’s powers that he has as well. “And Will’s visions.” “Now I definitely believe you.” He joked and they both laughed. This was nice. Not having any actual problems besides to get back to her universe. “When does Will get out of prison?” He asked. She shouldn’t tell him. “Soon.” Was all she said. 

She sat at the table as she watched him make dinner. It was like a routine. She loved doing it but as she watched them cook, she realized that this was the stuff that her and Mads did. They had a life together and this reflected that. “I’ve really enjoyed our time together, Hannibal.” She said with a smile as she drank from her wine glass. He smiled and gave her a plate. “I have to.” Her smile dropped slightly as she looked up at him. “I uh wish I could stay.” She said. “You can.” He told her. “I can’t though. I have a husband and life to get back to.” She told him. “I’m your husband though. I mean technically.” She looks at him and sighs, “You are but you aren’t. My husband isn’t a cannibal. He just plays one on TV.” “So I’m just a TV character to you.” That knocked the wind right out of her.

That was something she never thought she’d ever hear. She loved fictional characters so much and they were so much more than that but hearing that question made her sick. “No Hanni you’re not you’re so much more than that but you gotta look at it from my perspective this wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t even know how it happened.” She told him. “To you it wasn’t. But this to me was a blessing.” He took her hands. She looked up at him from her seat. “Stay with me, Y/N. I can give you all he can.” But he couldn’t and they both have different endings that don’t include each other. “Hannibal you’re amazing but we aren’t meant to be together.” She said. “Then how come you’re here?” She didn’t have an answer for that. She truly didn’t know. Luck? She didn’t have an answer to his question but all she knew was that she had to get back to her universe

#hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hugh dancy #will graham #hannibal imagine #hannibal smut #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter smut #hannibal lecter x reader

[halfagone]

I wanna share this experience my coworker and I had. We recently just became a little closer after finding out we hate this same person at work. And then, during lunch, I see him reading something on his phone. I don't ask because I make it a thing not to ask people what they're reading because I don't like people asking me that.

But then, he looks at me and asks me, "you interested in knowing?"

I just go, "only if you're comfortable, dude."

So, he shows me his phone, shows me this highlighted line:

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re still mad about that,” Jason cooed with a pout, a wicked grin soon overtaking his face once again.

“Why would I be mad? It gave me you,” Bruce told Jason, causing the laughter to fade.

I ask, "what are you reading?" because by God, that is the most beautiful line I've read

And he goes, "the most beautiful fic I've ever read."

And he sends me a pdf of your fic and I've FINALLY GOTTEN TO THAT CHAPTER AND

YOUR MIND IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

AND I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT MY COWORKER FRIEND AND I ARE NOW CLOSER AND BROTHERS IN ARMS, AND WE ARE NOW NOISILY HYPERFIXATING IN THE BREAKROOM OVER YOUR FIC

(This is more: "Thank you, your fic gave me a friend")

I have so many thoughts and not enough words. But here's my best attempt:

HELL YEAH CONGRATS ON THE NEW FRIEND

I love that line so, so much and I'm so glad you two love that line too. It's still one of my favorite scenes to come back to, and the wonderful reception absolutely makes it that much more precious as the author. (*/ω＼*)

Thank you for giving the fic a shot and enjoying it? So much??? You came in for one scene and you waited 27 chapters to get there, much respect for that.

I WILL JOIN YOU (metaphorically speaking, of course) IN HYPERFIXATING IN BREAKROOMS AT WORK. ESCAPISM IS REAL AND IT IS ALSO YOUR FRIEND

(Really just thank you so much. I've been meaning to get to so many fics and sometimes the imposter syndrome really comes back to bite me. So to see people can still love that fic, even when I feel like I've grown so much since those early chapters? That means a lot to me.)

(I hope your friend realizes he got someone pretty great too.)

Thank you so much for sharing!! I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the fic too! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

#halfagone replies #lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood #halfagone's fics

[ohhcinnybuns]

Thinking about AU baker Chuuya and florist Dazai this evening…

Chuuya owns a pâtisserie in a quaint cultural part of downtown Yokohama called “pêches et crème.” He loves to bake French goods to show love for his half-French heritage: Macarons, Éclairs, Chouquettes… Chuuya knew just how to satisfy his patron’s sweet cravings.

All the locals who enter his shop are immediately drawn to Chuuya’s charm and delicious baked goods. They compliment his artistry and use of chocolate and fruits to enhance flavors.

Though, they tell him he should move his beautiful shop because of the ugly ass building across from his potentially scaring customers away. The building looked hollow and devoid of life with its chipped grey paint and haunting ‘for lease’ sign displayed on its window. Chuuya makes note of it and thanks his patrons for their feedback.

And then, one day, the ‘for lease’ sign on the building across from him was gone. Over the next few days, Chuuya notices workers coming in and out of the building to give it a facelift, wondering what type of shop it will become. The grey paint on the building turned into a muted yellow, and the window borders were accented by swirling vinyl patterns of lush vines in the shapes of hearts. He thought it looked nice… or at least, nicer than the run down crap it used to be. He makes a mental note to thank his neighbor when the shop opens for upgrading the eyesore.

Until one beautiful sunny morning, Chuuya walks to work and finds a handsome brunette holding a bouquet in his hands, looking up at the newly renovated building, deep in thought. He seemed to be mumbling to himself, a hand on his chin. Upon further inspection, Chuuya spotted a van behind him with its trunk popped open to reveal buckets of flowers - roses, daffodils, tulips, daisies - flowers of every kind in bloom and filling his senses.

The floral scent overwhelmed him so much that he almost didn't realize he had stopped walking, his nose twitching, and finally, he sneezed. Gosh darn pollen.

The brunette breaks from his mumbling spell and turns to Chuuya.

When their gazes lock, Chuuya can feel his cheeks warm. The brunette was a lot more handsome than he thought… and the smile he gave Chuuya only stirred butterflies in his stomach. Is this what people call love at first sight? ‘Shit! He’s coming this way.’

Chuuya clears his throat and immediately begins to look for his keys to unlock his shop pretending like he wasn’t just gawking at a handsome man across the street. Was he running away? It sure kind of felt that way by the way his hands kept fumbling his keys as if purposely stretching time for him on this particular morning. Chuuya curses under his breath with a defeated groan until he feels a hand land on his shoulder.

Chuuya jumps from the touch; a tint of red highlighting his cheeks. He turns to face the man who towers over him, still clutching a bouquet in his arms with a grin on his face as if reading every thought crossing Chuuya’s mind.

Who are they? What do they want? Am I being robbed? Should I call for help? If he goes out, would he regret it under the hands of this handsome thief? Too many questions and too many scenarios run through his head. Maybe he should be more direct.

“May I help you?” Chuuya finally asks, his hands learning to properly hold his keys without looking like a clown. He shifts his pose to cross his arms over his chest, eyeing for any sign of potential thievery. He’ll kick some ass if he has to.

“Yes, actually. Are you Chuuya Nakahara?” asks the brunette, lifting his hand from his shoulder to twirl a strand of Chuuya’s hair away from his face. Chuuya immediately grabs his wrist and pulls away.

“Who’s asking?” Chuuya glares at the guy. Man, he was pretty but daft to think he could just creep up on Chuuya and start petting him.

“Why, your new neighbor of course!” The guy pays no mind to Chuuya’s glare. Instead, he lifts the bouquet adorned with red camellias, peach peonies, and white with salmon tint daffodils.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet as the name, Chuuya Nakahara.”

Chuuya is stunned silent, blushing furiously as the handsome man hands him the bouquet while mumbling to himself again, criticizing his work, “I should have added an orange flower for your hair or a blue for your eyes. Now it all just feels wrong.”

“I didn't see any blue flowers in your van? Wait a minute, you haven’t even told me your name yet or why you know mine!”

The taller man laughs, his head tilted back as if his name was the funniest thing in the world. He leans into Chuuya’s personal space, his hands slipping into his coat pockets and with dazzling smile, he says, “Dazai. Dazai Osamu.”

Chuuya’s throat runs dry. He was starting to feel parched, as if he had just run a marathon with no water for miles. The only thing he's capable of is repeating Dazai’s name as if engraving it upon his lips.

Dazai nods his head and steps away, distancing himself from Chuuya. His gaze becomes soft, and with another twirl of Chuuya’s curls, he says, “I’ll come back with a better one next time, Chuuya. I’ll see you around.”

Chuuya finds himself mindlessly nodding like it is normal to do with someone they have just met on an average Tuesday. An unknown feeling bloomed around him, and he knew it wasn't because of the flowers.

After they part ways, Dazai flashes through his mind during breaks, lunch, and baking sessions. Honestly, the brunette made quite the impression on him, and he blushed every time he glanced at the bouquet. He put them in a porcelain vase next to his cash register so he could see their beauty in full bloom. His patrons teased him about the beautiful flowers that sat beautifully in his shop. They added a floral necessity to the scent of sugar, chocolate, and cinnamon in the air.

Maybe he’ll consider asking for the florist's number and sending a box of his best pastries as a ‘thank you’ for the bouquet. Perhaps he’ll ask for a date or two, and finally find out how the smug bastard knew his name. It’ll make a great conversation starter for the next time they meet.

#bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #soukoku #no one come for me #florist Dazai au #baker Chuuya au #i wrote this instead of doing homework #brainrot is real #Yes I had to make Dazai as poetic as possibly possible #Chuuya is just peak love at first sight #Potential WIP for someone to make… because I can't add more to my ever growing pile #bsd fic ideas #no one come for me pls #this turned out longer than i expected #alternate universe #Dazai coming in strong with that intro #pulled a whole Shakespeare

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 23: Under the Surface

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Mikey wakes up shaking. He had another nightmare. He tumbles out of the box that he and his brothers share and goes looking for Splinter.

He knows that he's not supposed to wake him. He always says that turtle tots need sleep, and he gets grumpy when he can't get a full night's rest.

But Splinter understands how scary bad dreams are! He will help! Daddy always helps...

The hallways are dark and spooky at night. The water reflects some small semblance of light against the wall and causes moving shadows. Mikey is sure that there is a monster following close behind him and it's getting closer --

.

.

.

"Stop struggling, you little monster!"

Mikey screams as he fights against the evil human that is trying to push him into the cage.

He doesn't want to be in the cage anymore! It's too cold! The cold hurts!!

The guards take out a long metal stick and smack the back of his legs, shoving his shell, hitting Mikey's arms.

Whack, thwack, smack!

Mikey is battered and eventually gives in, tumbling into the cage after one hit in particular got the back of his head and caused him to start seeing stars...

The guard huffs, it must've taken a lot of effort to get him in...

Good.

The guard is mad. He sticks the metal rod in through the bars and presses a button.

Mikey gets zapped in the arm, sparks flying across his body.

"That's for causing me more work! Next time, do as you're told!"

Mikey screams in pain --

.

.

.

-- Mikey screams in fear as he runs away from the monster chasing him.

"Go 'way, bad monstew! Leaf me 'lone, leaf me 'lone!"

Mikey runs until he trips and skids across the floor. The concrete bricks he just ate create scratches across his face, and he sobs loudly.

"I WANT MY DADDY!!!"

Mikey curls into a ball, waiting for the monster to eat him --

.

.

.

-- Mikey is curled up in a ball, waiting for the monsters to come and get him.

The monsters usually come around now... there is light peeking through the windows, casting shadows that drape across the room in front of him.

Morning.

One of the monsters comes and opens the cage.

"Ah, good morning, Mikey," they say, reaching in and grabbing him by the arm. "It's time for your exercises now..."

A metal collar is attached to his neck, and Mikey is dragged away. He struggles against them --

.

.

.

-- Mikey struggles against the monster that his holding his arms down. He is sobbing and crying and weeping, he has never been this scared in his entire life...

"Mikey! Woah, Mikey! It's just me, it's just Leo!!"

Mikey's eyes pop open.

"Weo?" he whimpers, wiping the tears and snot from his face.

"Yeah, it's me! Are you okay?" the big brother asks.

Mikey throws himself onto his big brother and sobs.

"I-I-I THOUGHT YOU WEWE A MONSTEWWW!!!" he shrieks, gripping him tightly and smushing his face deeper and deeper into Leo's jammies.

"You had 'nother nightmare, huh?" Leo asks, patting his back and rubbing his shell.

Mikey nods, sobbing.

"It's okay, Angie. I heard you get up from bed..."

"D-d-dind't mean to wake y-you..." he sniffles.

"S'kay. I don't mind. Come on, let's get back to bed and --"

"B-but I hasta tell Daddy about my dream," Mikey argues. "Or else it will come back!"

"Howabout you tell ME your dream, huh?" Leo offers.

"Will dat work?" Mikey wonders, looking up with wet and sparkling eyes at his braver big brother.

"I don't see why not," Leo says with a smile. "I can help protect you, too..."

Leo reaches down and picks him up, taking him back to bed --

.

.

.

-- Mikey is dragged into the Interaction room again. He struggles against the collar and chain, but apart from that he has learned not to fight them. The guards take him into the entrance...

Hang on, what is this? The room is different now! There's a large, thick glass wall separating him from the other half of the room. In the center of the room is an enormous, odd-looking machine made of sleek ebony metal. There is an oversized headset connected to it, and a chair so big it almost resembles a throne. Sitting in the throne is a man -- it's Dr. Chaplin, what is he doing in here?

"Begin the A.L.P.H.A. procedure," he commands to an unseen associate.

The helmet lowers onto Dr. Chaplin's head, bright lights emit from the giant thing over him, and --

.

.

.

Mikey screams himself awake. He bolts upright, knocking himself out of the hammock. His infrared vision blurs, he stares in every direction. He doesn't know where he is.

He's scared... he's so scared...

Mikey scans the room. Mikey breathes heavily, his chest heaving as he tries to calm himself down. He's... he's not sure... where he is... It's too dark, his vision can only see shapes and temperatures, no discernible details. He stays on alert.

Something runs into the room --

Intruder! Attacker! Danger!

Mikey growls, crouching low as a warning against the intruder. They hold their hands up, and walk closer. They say something, but... he can't hear them over the ringing in his ears and the deep rumbling in his throat. Mikey's tail erupts into spines and spikes.

Don't come any closer.

The intruder doesn't take the hint.

Mikey lunges at the intruder, knocking them down onto the floor as he roars at them. With one hand, he claws at their throat, holding it tight and squeezing. The figure chokes underneath him, legs kicking. Mikey keeps one foot firmly on their chest, anchoring them to the ground. His spiky tail wraps around one of the legs, holding it steady to keep them from kicking anymore.

The intruder gasps for breath as they try to pry Mikey's hand away from their throat. He squeezes tighter. His talons break the skin. He hears them wheeze in pain.

He hears them make feeble pleas, as if they weren't just about to attack him or take him away and hurt him again.

No one will ever hurt him again.

Kill them, Instinct whispers.

Mikey pulls back his freehand, extending his claws, ready to strike.

"...m-mikey.... please...."

...What?

"...m-i... mikey... don't d-do this.... th-this is-sn't you...."

Who... who is...

Mikey's claws relax around the throat. They can breathe a bit better, he hears them inhale deeply.

For whatever reason, they voluntarily let go of Mikey, relaxing their entire body. It feels familiar... this resignation, this acceptance of fate, the idea of a manic creature trying to choke you out... and Mikey hates it without understanding it.

"Mikey... please... It's me, it's your Leo! Remember Leo? You're safe, I promise you -- n-nothing is gonna... no one is going to h-hurt you..."

...Leo?

Oh god, Leo!

"Mikey.... please let go --"

Mikey scrambles off of Leo as quickly as he can. Leo coughs and hacks as he sits up onto his knees and doubles over, gasping for air and clutching his throat...

Leo snaps the lights on.

Mikey stares in horror at him.

Leo's leg is torn up and bloody from where his tail spikes cut into him.

There are bruises already forming all across his neck.

There's a soft trickle of blood staining his fingers... tiny gashes from Mikey's claws ripped his throat...

Leo looks up at him, his eyes watering from --

No, he's just crying. Leo is crying.

Mikey... Mikey almost...

"...M...Mike...?" Leo wheezes, seeing the terrified expression on his face. "Y-you ok-k-ay?"

Mikey did bad.

"Mikey, I-I'm fine --" his speech is interrupted by desperate coughs.

You're a monster.

"Mikey?"

"I-I..." he whimpers, backing away as Leo crawls closer. "I... I..... I didn't... I didn't mean to..."

Mikey's eyes sting from tears. His arms shake. His tail curls around him like a barricade.

...I'm a monster.

Mikey runs out of the room, Leo shouting for him as he disappears.

.

.

.

-- Mikey wakes up.

Ugh.... what.... what happened...?

The glass wall is now raised. Mikey is laying on the floor at Dr. Chaplin's feet. He has no memory of how he got there...

There is blood on the walls and floor behind him. It doesn't smell like Mikey's blood... he must've hurt something again. Mikey is getting awfully numb to the constant occurrence of waking up to the realization that he may have taken a life. It still hurts, but... it leaves him with a static buzz in his head rather than an earthquake in his heart. He's not sure what that means.

He hurts, too. His ribs and face ache, there are bruises all over his body.

Mikey hasn't ever felt this exhausted before when Instinct takes over.

This wasn't me, Instinct says.

...Wait, what?

"The machine works to perfection," Dr. Chaplin says, pulling his sleeves down as he stands. His knuckles look worn and a little bloody. "Well done, Mikey. You did very good."

Mikey... do... good...?

Prev || Next

#tw experimentation #tw mention of blood #tw blood #tw mention of abuse #tw trauma #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #2003 tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt professor honeycutt #rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #rise mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic recs #fanfic update #fanfic rec #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #ficlet #short story #double mutated mikey #double mutation mikey #double mutation #double mutated #mutated #mutant #mutation

[ya-zz]

It Has to End - It Will End

Ramattra x Reader

!! sa r/pe warning !! A/N: I am fairly open about my experience, having written about it in the past with a character from a different fandom. What is written below from the readers POV is what happened to me back in 2018. Some of you may ask or have wondered why I'm comfortable in writing r/pe, and this is why - I have been through it. If this helps even one person, then I have done something right... Also don't ask about word count I did this here and not in a doc-

Something had been off with you for awhile but the omnic couldn't place it. The distant stares, vacant eyes and shaky hands were anything but normal. He ruled it down to the nightmare you recently had, it was still eating away at you, he thought.

One night, when the two of you were seated on the balcony to watch the meteor shower that was supposedly happening, he figured that it was the right time to ask.

"Is everything okay? You have not been yourself recently." His head tilts to the side, optics glancing over at you.

Ramattra notices the hesitation before you peel your eyes away from the night sky. "Yeah. Suppose I'm just on edge."

"We have time-"

"I don't want to ruin the mood." You half smile at him.

"Your health and feelings are more important than some balls of dust falling from the atmosphere." He states, turning his entire body to face you. "Talk to me. Please."

You can hear the desperation in his voice as you follow suit, turning your body to sit in front of his. A shaky sigh escapes you as you look down at your hands resting on your lap.

"I can't forget what happened to me." You start, not wanting to look up at the omnic before you. "It happened so long ago but it still feels recent."

Ramattra stays silent, the only noise coming from him was his inner workings, the soft hum of his fans against the cool night time wind.

"It took me so long, no, too long, to realise what had happened to me. The way his hands grabbed my body. I can still feel them on my sides, my hips; the bruises from how tight he held me." Closing your eyes, you try to dismiss the scene, but it replays. A constant, torturous loop that never seemed to end. "He pushed himself inside of me… I was screaming, shouting at him to stop, but he didn’t, no matter how loud I cried… It felt like glass being dragged back and forth. After he… After he had finished, he just cleaned himself up, leaving me bent over his bed trying to collect myself."

The next sentence that leaves your mouth hits the omnic like a brick.

"He was a friend, Rama... Someone I trusted. Someone I knew for years and he did this to me." It was hard to hold back the tears that started falling down your cheeks. "It took me so long to realise what had happened, but by that point it was too late. I have to live with the fact that I was raped and there is no justice."

Ramattra freezes, hands tightly gripping the cloth around his thighs.

"He's out there living life as if nothing happened, and the worst part about it all?" You look up at the omnic as you wipe away the tear on your cheek. "I still had to see him."

The silence rings loud before being broken by the passing chilly wind. Ramattra goes to speak but nothing comes out. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; all this time, the anxiety, the flinching, the nightmares... You snap him out of his thoughts by continuing to speak.

"We had the same friend group. I avoided him as much as I could when I realised what happened, but nobody believed me when I finally said something... If they didn't believe me, why should anyone else?"

"You have the worst friends." Ramattra chimes in.

"I'm no longer friends with any of them." You laugh awkwardly. "I cut them off soon after."

"That does not change anything." He wants to lean forward, to hold you close, but your body language says otherwise - stiff, ready to push back.

You manage a half smile before continuing. "It comes back every now and then. I'll be having a good day and then it gets ruined by that... I want to it end."

"You have come far already. Opening up to me is the first step. You are holding on to it for what reason? You do not need to relive that moment anymore." Ramattra finally takes that leap and takes your hand in his.

You shrug, taking a moment to think as you watch his thumb smooth over your knuckles. "It's hard to let go of something so traumatic. I can't just snap my fingers and forget it. Something will trigger it and I go back to that isolated state."

"You have thought about different outcomes, yes?" Ramattra asks with a firm tone.

"Too many times." You breathe deeply. "I should've left or I should've fought back. I should've realised what had happened at that moment and gone to the police-"

"Does it make you feel better?"

"No. Worse. It makes me feel weak."

Ramattra hums and nods. "Then why do you keep doing it?"

You stutter when trying to come up with a response. "I suppose it made me feel better for a moment before it made me feel like shit."

"Perhaps you should try a different approach. Yes, it happened and no, you cannot change the past, but you are still here. You are living your life despite the event holding you back in some aspects. It does not make you weak. You are strong." Ramattra speaks softly. "You are stronger because of that."

You smile softly at his words but it quickly fades.

"You are not weak, [y/n]." He reiterates as he squeezes your hand. "Should I ever see this particular individual, I will make sure you have justice."

You couldn't help but laugh at his threat as you wipe away the remaining tears. "You are like a guard dog, you know that?"

"A very good one, no?" Ramattra shuffles closer to you, letting you lean your weight on him. "You deserve closure, to be free from that nightmare."

"One day..."

He keeps his optics on you for a moment longer, your heartbeat had slowed and you seemed more relaxed than before. There was a twinkle in your eyes as they widen, your body shifting forward as you point out a falling star.

"Rama, look!"

Though, he doesn't. His optics were still on you. Admiring you. He brings his head down, resting on the side of your neck. A soft buzzing, a kiss, is felt before he speaks.

"I am proud of you and how far you have come. Do not let this hold you back. You deserve the happiness and you are worthy of love. I am here each and every step of the way, no matter what comes your way. I have you, now and forever."

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #yazzfics #debated posting this #it's been in my drafts for a few days #there are actually a few drabbles surrounding this #might be able to piece them together should I do a FULL thing in the future #I did nearly 18k words back in 2022 about this when it nearly made me drop out of uni #guess this is my way of coping #it works tho soooooo #more ramattra content heh

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 6

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out.  Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding,kissing, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely. The whole fic will be around 30k words.

Thank you all again and again for taking the time to read the stories I put out.

***

Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing, your head is a little fuzzy but not nearly as bad as you’d experienced. Opening your eyes you flip the phone over to see it’s nearly twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Blinking a few times you make yourself sit up in bed flipping your phone on to see a deluge of text messages. Groaning you turn your phone off and stretch. Before any messages were answered you need coffee and maybe a shower. 

Showered and suitably caffeinated you finally flip open the text messages. 

Trevor: 

9 am: So what happened?

9:1 5:Hello?

9:30: Look do I need to call the police?

10:30: It’s been hours….

10:32: You never texted me when you got home

11:01: Okay it’s after eleven. You never sleep in. 

12:45: I am coming over in thirty minutes if I don’t hear from you. 

You reply:

I am fine, I just got home super late. I hope you’re not coming over

Trevor:

You scared me! 

Why didn’t you text me back?

How late were you out

Wait did you go back to his place?????

You groan squeezing your eyes close and drinking a healthy swig of coffee.

You: 

We went for sushi, then went down to the beach. 

Trevor:

That’s all you're giving me! What kinda 1950s dating scene is this?

You chuckle replying:

We stayed at the beach until 3 am. 

Trevor: Wait did you have sex on the beach

You:

TREVOR! 

Trevor:

It’s an important question. Don’t want to find out on the gossip train.

You:

why can’t I have nice things TREVOR. No there was no sex in PUBLIC, we kissed and held hands. Can I not do that????

Trevor: Are you secretly asexual? There is nothing wrong with that. I think it’s romantic. 

You:

I am going to become asexual if it means you stop asking me these questions. 

You could almost hear him laughing at you. 

Trevor:

You like it! 

You snorted and switched messages.

Walton: 

10 am: Hey beautiful, wanted to check in. See how you’re doing this morning. 

11 am: I was wondering about maybe going out to bar a city over next Friday? 

11:10 am: Promise I am not trying to kidnap you.

12:20 pm:  Thought you never slept in?

You:

Hey handsome, sorry I actually slept in. Kept me out past my bedtime.

I would love to go out with you next Friday, fingers crossed they don’t keep us late

You set your phone down, pondering if you still trusted the milk in the fridge to make pancakes. Getting up you get a refill of coffee, phone buzzing. 

Walton: 

If they do we can always go out saturday? Can’t be keeping you up so late. Got make sure you can keep up with this old man. 

You:

Oh I am sure I can keep up with you 😉

Walton:

Careful little lady, I might have to come by and test that theory.

Your face goes bright red and that heat coils low in your belly. 

You: Promises, promises, 

Walton:

If I didn’t have a zoom meeting in ten minutes 😠

You:

Maybe next Friday. 

You’re not sure why you’ve become a tease, but you’re enjoying winding him up. 

Walton:

Monday will be more like it.

You:

😜 Your trailer or mine.

Walton: 

Yours just so Trevor will stop texting me.

You let out a laugh, seemed like Trevor was also enjoying winding him up. You spend the rest of the day chatting with both of them. Sunday is a bit quieter, more zoom calls for Walt and Trevor had gone to Decon’s. 

*** Monday goes by in a blur, Walton keeps his hands to himself when others are around. But it doesn’t stop him from following you behind the food tent to steal kisses. You are now sporting a permanent flush and some of your co-workers are raising eyebrows. You are ever grateful that Trevor has kept his mouth shut. Liz is as pissy as ever but seems to be letting it lay. Katie has slowly warmed up to you again, why you weren’t sure. 

The rest of the week is pretty similar. Early mornings bleed into later evenings, the endless weeks have worn on you. Then Walton slides into your chair with his latest story and you feel like a weight is lifted off of you. The man once more touches you gently and gives you lingering cheek kisses as he goes over to set or costumes.   

Friday night rolls around and it’s going to be a long one. You fiddle with a few of your brushes when the door opens quickly. 

“We are being released. There was a fire on stage, and it looks like we are out at least until Monday,” Liz rolls in looking flustered, her normal perfect facade gone. She looks haggard and frazzled. 

“There was a fire on set?” You ask sitting up and feeling much more awake. Panic shoots down the back of your neck.

“Yep, green sparky left a light on too close to set.” Liz sat in the chair grabbing cleaner. You had stayed in the trailer to start tucking things away as Walton was off-screen for the first three setups. You are out the door before she has time to say more. You stop at costumes knocking at the door. 

Rebeccas opens it and looks down at you, she looks flustered but still has a smile on. “Hey, I am guessing you heard about the fire?”

“Yes, I did,” You say trying not to sound panicked, even though your mind is racing. The thought of him being hurt makes you nauseous. “Umm -is.”

Rebecca looks into the trailer, “Walt. You almost done in there?” There is a bunch of commotion going on in the trailer, with people moving back and forth, and different actors in various stages of undress.

You looked at her puzzled at how she knew you were looking for him. 

Rebecca turns back to you, “He never shuts up about you, so figured that’s why you are here,” She replies, and you immediately feel flustered, clearly rumors are moving again. 

“Oh- umm- Yeah. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Walton pops his head above Rebecca his fingers nimbly button up his shirt. “Be right out.”

You blush and look away, “Sorry, I should probably go.”

Rebeca waved her hand at you, “Your secret is safe with me,” she winked. You wonder not for the first time if you were the only one who was never included in the rumor mill. 

Walton pops down the stairs, and has on grey button-up sleeves rolled up, navy wash jeans. He tilts his head when he looks at you. You let out a sigh seeing him unscathed. 

“You okay?” He asks, his hand touching your shoulder. You nod your head, turning to walk back towards the makeup trailer. You really don’t want to make a scene right now, there were way too many eyes on you both right now. 

“I know I said we should go to the bar tonight,” Walton says, his fingers brushing against yours. You try not to grab his hands, just to know he is still there. “But maybe we should get take out at my place?”

You get to the trailer, unable to stop looking around. He looks right at you, the way he could focus on you was both flattering and unnerving. Especially as you are trying to keep things under wraps. 

“Have to stop and grab a few things first.” You say trying to keep your voice from carrying. “Have you pick me up again?”

He smiles, “I would pick you up any day.”

You are bright red, as you open the door and follow the man into the trailer. 

***

A large paper bag of Chinese food was acquired, along with a couple of bottles of wine. You both devest at the door, slipping off your shoes, and placing the wine on the counter. You watch him move around the kitchen. Practice ease, you watch his muscles move under his shirt. You were tired as anything but being in his kitchen, waiting to eat greasy Chinese food couldn’t have been more perfect. 

You grab plates from him, laying out the smorgasbord board of different food. The two of you scooped a little of everything, before sitting down at the table and pouring some wine. 

“I feel like I should apologize for having you over instead of going out somewhere,” Walton says taking a sip of wine. “I don’t want you to think I am taking advantage of you being here.”

You chuckle, “Don’t know what you mean Mr. Goggins. I thought you invited me to your place to play some chess and listen to swing jazz.”

Walton nearly loses his food at the comment, his hand covering his mouth. “Swing jazz? How old do you think I am?”

“Oh you got to be at least in your seventies,” You tease back taking a bite out of your spring roll. 

Walton coughs, “I didn’t realize you where into grandfathers.”

You choke a little, “Well to be fair,” You wave your hand, “I am usually good with trying anything once.” 

Walton sips on his wine eyebrows raised, “Anything?”

You nod your head, a smile spreading across your face. “Can’t say I don’t like it unless I try it.”

He puts his glass down, watching you carefully as you finish your cup. “I could make some coffee while we clean up.”

You grab his plate stacking it with your own as he grabs the glasses. You two make it over to the kitchen, there is tension in the air as you clean things up. He grabs a French press out of the cupboards aswell as some coffee and cups.

You slide over to the counter and sit on top of it. Feet kicking back and forth as you watch the man ready things.  Flicking the kettle on to heat the water. He comes over and moves himself in between your legs.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He whispers, placing hands on either side of your hips. Face inches from you.

You wrap your hands lazily over his shoulders, opening your legs to let him in closer. 

“No, you haven't today.” You lean in to kiss him, kissing him will never get old.

“You are stunning.” He whispers against your ear. Sending shivers down your spine. The kettle clicks and he's moving away from you. You watch him pour grinds and then water into the press. 

“Why did you wait so long to ask?” You inquire, moving your feet back and forth. Letting yourself briefly wonder if maybe the question was too forward.  

He turned to look at you, bottom lip caught in his teeth. “Umm-”  

Leaving the coffee he came over to you. Cheeks slightly pink, he tucked his hair behind his ear. 

“I - ahh. I didn't think you'd want to go out with me.” 

Your mouth falls open, “Are you serious?”

He shrugs, fingers fiddling with the outer seam of your jeans. You take his hand in yours using the moment to drag him back between your legs. Once he is there, you tip Walton’s head up to look right at you.

“You're so dumb,” You grin leaning in to kiss him. He chuckles and leans into the kiss, strong arms wrapping around you. “I am also dumb, 'cause I thought the same thing about you.”

Walton pulls back looking at you, eyebrows scrunched. “Didn't you just call me dumb? Seems like we both may have missed the sign somewhere along the way.”

You grin one hand finding its way to rub along his jawline. “Took us long enough.”

He smiled, “Trevor is never going to let us live this down.”

You let out a groan, “He is beyond impossible. I am gonna have a small textbook of text messages.”

Walton’s eyes glint, and he pulls his phone out. “Why don't we give him an update.”

You can't help but laugh, “Oh absolutely!” 

Walton flips his phone on turning on the camera he flips it to the two of you. You lean in and kiss him deeply as he clicks the button. The phone is placed on the counter as you wrap your legs around his waist. You pull out a deep moan that rumbles out of his chest when you bite at his bottom lip. It doesn't stop you from pushing your tongue in. Rocking your hips a little, the room feels hot. 

Walton pulls away, breathless, “If you keep doing that, I am liable to forget about our coffee.”

You let out a sigh, “I suppose a little coffee couldn't won't hurt.” You unwrap yourself from him. 

He moves down the counter as you slide off it. He mixes your coffee just the way you like it, handing you the cup as he fixes his own. You wait, watching him work, he turns and gestures toward the living room. You make your way over to the couch.  

Folding yourself up on the end of the sofa, tucking one leg underneath the other. You sip on the coffee, it is delicious and beats any store bought. Walton comes over and sits beside you, taking a long sip of his drink. Looking out the windows you can see part of downtown and the north shore. The lights still dazzling, as the evening wore on. 

“I know, before, I said I wasn’t sure you would want to go out with me,” He said looking out at the window as he spoke. “I tried, unsuccessfully to give you space. But the further I got away the more I missed being near you. Then when we went out for sushi, it all just kinda clicked. This isn’t conventional.” He gestures between the two of you. You hold your cup listening intently. 

“I am, ahh, older than you. And my life is not exactly straightforward. I don’t take relationships lightly, not that this is that. Or.” You can’t suppress the smile as he tries to explain himself. “I am terrible at this. I don’t want to move too fast, but also. I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

You put your cup down, and gesture for him to come closer. He places his cup down beside yours and moves over. Patting your lap, he slips down and lays his head on your lap. You run your hands through his hair, his eyes close and he hums softly against your legs. 

“I can’t tell you what's going to happen,” You say softly, “I am also not good at this, but I am willing to try. However fast or slow you want to go. As for the age thing, I don’t care, it’s never bothered me.” 

Walton’s breath slows and his hand slips under your thigh holding you close. You sit there a while longer, letting him just relax against you. Again you are struck by how simple it is, to just sit here with a warm cup of coffee and the city lights. You could get used to weekends like this. But as always he is moving sitting up and smoothing out his hair, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip. 

“Would you like to come to bed with me?” He asks, you turn away from the lights. His eyes fixed on you, not hungry but curious. 

“I would like that a lot,” You say licking your lips and heart pounding in your chest. 

Walton stands up offering you a hand, which you take, pulling yourself to your feet. The coffee is left on the table as you follow him. Fingers laced together like they are two puzzle pieces. You pass by the guest room and there is a door at the end of the hallway. He opens it and you walk into the large room. There are floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the sea, a large king-sized bed on a wooden platform. The room is sparse, with two side tables with lamps. A large walk-in closet to your left along with a bathroom beside it. You wonder for a moment how often he has brought others back here. The thought lingers in the back of your mind as you wander over to sit on the edge of the bed. Walton has disappeared into the bathroom.

“I think I have another toothbrush in here,” He calls out, poking his head around the corner. 

You smile and move towards him, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

He’s blushing again and handing you the unopened toothbrush, “I–I umm. Just figure I’d offer.” 

You move into the bathroom grabbing some toothpaste off the counter and leaning against it, “I appreciate it, besides don’t want to have coffee breath. Would you happen to have makeup wipes?”

Walton thinks for a moment before he scoots you out of the way, as you brush your teeth. He pops up with a bottle of cleanser and a fresh hand towel. “I knew I had it here somewhere.”

You grin and thank him, he brushes his teeth before disappearing again. You take the moment to clean off your face and neck. Looking into the mirror you got a permanent smile on your face. Letting out a happy sigh you finish up, telling yourself not to put the cart in front of the horses. You walk out and Walton is standing there shirtless, blinds drawn. He slips into a grey cotton t-shirt, that you currently hate, and black sweatpants. Sensing you staring he turns around to see you. 

*tiny cliffhanger. I always need at least one 😜*

*As always if you'd like to be tagged let me know! *

*reblogs, likes, and comments appreciated! *

#walton goggins #wallton goggins x reader #x reader #fan fiction #fantasy #fluff #fanfic #writing #angst #hurt comfort #au #alternate universe #older man x younger women

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Not So Complicated

AN: Yes, I just realized that Robin and Steve didn't get the Family Video job until the Byers started to move, but this is an AU, so anything goes. . . I really couldn't help but write this. . .

He hated the idea of leaving Hawkins, just as much as Will did, but his mom wanted them to be safe, and it wasn't just that. They knew how Mom felt now that Hopper was gone, and Jonathan knew how hard it would be for her to stay. If they asked her, she would choose to stay for them, but in the process, she would be miserable. He had thought about Nancy. . .what if she died. . .would he be able to stay? Jonathan never wanted to find out. He hated leaving her, but it comforted him to know she was still alive. They had a month before they left, and Jonathan was determined to make the time he had left with Nancy count. It's how they ended up at Family Video. Movie night.

"Do you know what you want?" Nancy asked as they walked through the door, the bell ringing rather loudly.

"No, why don't you pick something out? I need to ask Steve something," Jonathan said.

"You're really going to ask for Steve’s number for Will?" Nancy asked in amusement.

"Why did you ask it like that?" Jonathan huffed. "I'm just going to talk to him."

"You know I know his number, and Dustin knows his number, so it's safe to say Will knows his number," Nancy said. "This is just an excuse. . .isn't it? You know, what? Why am I stopping this? I'm going to pick out a movie."

Steve had his back turned, his eyes on the computer screen. He hadn't even noticed that they had come in. Jonathan leaned on the counter and rang the bell. Steve sprang up immediately.

"Ahoy, ladies, I'm Steve Harrington, and I'll be your - !" He yelled, startling Jonathan. "Shit, Jonathan, you're not a lady."

"Last time that I checked," he said, laughing.

"Robin made a bet that I - you know what, it doesn't matter," Steve said, blushing. "It's a Scoops Ahoy thing."

"Yeah, I saw you in the outfit. Kind of wish I had gone to Scoops at least once to see you in action," Jonathan said. "Bet you really put it to work."

It was supposed to be a sarcastic comment, but Steve’s cheeks turned pink, and Jonathan suddenly wondered if he just accidentally flirted with him. Steve smiled softly as he gazed at him, and he was thrown for a moment. He always thought that Steve’s eyes were brown, but as he looked at them more closely, they weren't just brown. . .they were green, too. They reminded him of the forest.

"Something wrong?" Steve asked.

"Are your eyes hazel?" Jonathan blurted out.

"Last time I checked, yeah," he said in amusement.

"It's. . .nice. . .your vest really brings out the green. It reminds me of the forest. . .I like trees," Jonathan said.

I like trees? Did he suddenly turn into an idiot?

"I like trees too," Steve said, grinning.

"This is going to sound weird, but can I have your number?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah," Steve said in surprised and scribbled it quickly on a piece of paper. "Here."

"I know your name, and do you usually draw a heart over the I?" Jonathan asked.

"Only in special circumstances," Steve winked.

"I just - it's for Will, you know, in case he wants to check in," he said quickly.

"Sure, for Will," he said laughing.

"Why do you sound like you don't believe me?" Jonathan said.

"Because it sounds like you don't even believe it," Steve said as he leaned on the counter, getting closer to him and inflating his eyes.

"What - stop doing that with your eyes," he said.

"I'm not doing anything," he said innocently and stood up.

Suddenly, Nancy appeared beside Jonathan with a grin on her face. Jonathan jumped.

"I found a movie," Nancy said, and he stared at her. "Jonathan?"

"Yeah, that's great," he said, blinking rapidly.

"Is everything okay over here?" Nancy asked as she looked between the two.

"More than okay," Steve replied. "I see what you see in him, Nance. He's pretty adorable. If I were another girl, I'd be stealing him away from you."

"You're an idiot, Steve Harrington," Nancy said affectionately.

"Cute boys will make some people do stupid things," Steve said, batting his eyelashes rather obnoxiously, and Nancy giggled.

Just for a moment, Jonathan wanted Steve to steal him, but then, for another moment, he wanted Steve to steal Nancy, too. That was such a weird thought, and he was so focused on it that he didn't even notice that Nancy had dragged him outside. Did he just hit on Nancy's ex-boyfriend, and did Steve flirt with him back? No, that's crazy. Meanwhile. . .back in Family Video, Steve was leaning against the counter, watching the door rather intently.

"Well, any luck?" Robin asked as she came out of the back.

"Huh?" Steve asked, looking at her.

"Any luck meeting someone special?" She asked.

"Have you ever looked at someone for one moment and not see them, not really, but then this one small moment changes everything?" Steve asked her.

"Well, you know I always thought you were an asshole but clearly, you showed me," Robin said.

"Not like that," he said. "You know, romantically."

"Okay, so, a pretty girl walked in who you never thought was pretty before?" Robin asked.

Steve looked back at the door and thought about Jonathan. He thought about his dark brown eyes. . . The color of coffee and just like coffee, it woke something up inside of him.

"Yeah. . .he's very pretty," Steve said with a sigh.

"Alright, so, who is this girl?" Robin asked as she started putting away video tapes.

"Robin!" Steve exclaimed.

"What? Am I missing something?" She asked.

"I'm going to give you a minute," Steve said as he turned back to the computer.

Robin rolled her eyes before continuing to put away the tapes. Steve sighed and gave her a look. He crossed his arms and began tapping his foot. His best friend was still a genius, right? Robin gasped and dropped the tapes. She turned around and ran around the counter, grabbing him.

"Steven, did you say what I think you just said?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Steve said grinning.

"Did you mean what you said?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay, okay, okay. . .what does this mean?" She asked.

Steve thought of Nancy's smiling face, her blue eyes, and the way she sounded when she called him an idiot. . .the way his heart still beat when she called him that.

"Well, I still like women so I don't know," he said.

"Hmm. . .well, can you tell me something you do know like. . .who is this guy you think is so pretty?" Robin said with a grin.

"You're going to flip," he said.

"Steve, this pancake has already flipped. Time to take it off the griddle," Robin said.

"Well, it's complicated. . ."

A month or so later, Jonathan didn't call Steve until after they had moved. It had been a lot of sleepless nights lost thinking of him, thinking of Nancy, and sometimes thinking of the both of them. After a long phone call with Nancy, he nervously called Steve.

"Hello?" Steve asked.

"Hey, it's Jonathan," he said.

"Hm, I thought my number was for Will," Steve said in amusement.

"It never was," Jonathan said.

"Knew it," Steve said.

"Don't get cocky or I'll hang up," he said.

"I'm not, just happily stating a fact," Steve replied.

"So, how are you?" Jonathan asked and winced at how awkward he sounded.

"Better now that you called," Steve said.

"Oh, well, I'm glad I can make your day better," Jonathan said, grinning.

"My parents are home. . .so, I'm really glad you called," Steve said.

"Are they really that bad?" Jonathan asked.

"Steven!" Jonathan could hear another man's voice on the other end of the line. "Are you making an appointment to get your hair cut? I swear, it's bad enough that my son is too much of a dumbass to get into college. Now I have to worry about him looking like a girl. It's like you want to embarrass this family. You should at least make an effort to look like a man if you can't be one."

"I'll make an appointment after this phone call, Dad," Steve said through gritted teeth. "It would be rude to hang up on this person."

"You better," he said. "Your mother is medicating again. She just had to listen to Sandra brag about her child going to Harvard. You don't want to disappoint your mother again. You remember what happened last time?"

There was a long stretch of silence, and then suddenly, he could hear Steve let out a breath.

"She did that because of you," Steve muttered.

"Jesus, Steve, are you okay?" Jonathan asked.

"I'm fine, I will be fine," Steve said. "I guess I'm going to have to make an appointment though."

"Don't cut your hair," Jonathan blurted out.

"What?"

"I mean, do you want to cut your hair?" He asked.

"Well, no," Steve said.

"Then don't. . .you look good. . .really good," Jonathan said softly.

"Okay. . .I won't. I look good, huh?" Steve asked.

Jonathan smiled at the tone of his voice, how much happier he sounded because of him. He never thought that he would have something like that in common with Steve Harrington, and he kind of hated that his dad was such an asshole but there was a part of Jonathan that felt a little less alone knowing that there was someone else who knew what it was like to have a father like that.

"Hey, so we're going to tell Nancy that we're. . . friends now, right?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah," Steve chuckled.

"It's good. . .that's good, but maybe we don't tell her that she was right about us getting a long," he said.

"Why? She's going to figure it out anyway. You know how she is. . .especially when she's right," Steve said.

"I know, I know. . .she just gets this twinkle in her eye. . .," Jonathan said.

"That's both obnoxious and beautiful at the same time?"

"Yeah. It makes you feel like you want to be wrong all the time," Jonathan said.

"Tell me about it," Steve said softly.

"Are you still . . . Never mind, forget I said anything," he said.

"Always, I think," Steve said, answering his incompleted question.

There was a heavy silence that followed. It said everything and nothing at the same time.

"I wish I was there," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said softly.

They talked longer than they should have and didn't stop until Steve’s father practically yanked him off the phone. Jonathan had flopped on the bed after that, feeling everything come alive for him in that moment. He liked Steve, a lot more than he should, but he also still loved Nancy. . .what the hell? He hugged his pillow close to his chest and sighed.

"Hey, Jonathan," Will"s voice broke through his thoughts. "El wants to play a board game. Are you in?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," he replied.

"Are you okay?" Will asked. "Did you and Nancy have a fight?"

Jonathan sat up and looked at his brother. He wanted nothing more than to tell him. . .to tell Will that he wasn't alone, but he also didn't want to make him feel like he was pressuring him to tell him anything he wasn't ready for. Jonathan sighed, opened his mouth, and closed it again. He also wasn't quite ready yet to say it outloud. It's not that he didn't trust Will. . .he just wasn't ready yet because while he was quite aware of himself now, Jonathan hadn't really quite accepted it yet. He was feeling quite overwhelmed, and it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. There are just too many emotions swirling around in his head all at once. He just needed to breathe.

"Everything's perfect."

Days and weeks passed, and Jonathan and Steve were still in this dance that neither one would mention. Nancy now knew they were friends but had yet to see them flirt or notice the way they talked about each other. Nancy was happy to be a part of Steve’s life again, but she missed Jonathan, and she felt less alone in knowing that she wasn't the only one. Currently, Nancy was leaning against the counter, talking to Steve while Robin put away inventory.

"I don't know, Steve, I just feel like there's something he's keeping from me. Do you have any idea what it could be?" Nancy asked.

"No, and even if I did know, I'm not going to be the kind of friend who goes blabbing to the girlfriend," Steve said. "There's a code, Nance."

"What if I did this?" Nancy asked as she inflated her eyes and poked out her bottom lip.

"Those powers of yours don't work on me anymore," Steve said, lying.

"He just seems troubled about something," Nancy said with a sigh.

"Maybe it's the fact that he's miles away from you, and he doesn't know how to say just how much he misses you. You know Jonathan, he's better with the camera than he is with words," Steve said.

"Well, he hasn't actually picked up the camera in a while. Too busy smoking weed with his new friend Argyle," Nancy said.

"Maybe he needs to find a balance. Photography and spending time with Argyle," Steve said and tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"Maybe he's just blocked creatively. . .that happens sometimes, right?" Robin asked..

Nancy huffed and rolled her eyes. Steve wasn't sure what it was, but Nancy seemed to have a problem with Robin.

"Maybe," Nancy begrudgingly agreed.

"Well, maybe I can talk to him and get him to talk to you. . .gently, you know?" Steve said. "But if he says he's not ready to talk about whatever ever is bothering him then - "

"I'll back off, I swear!" Nancy exclaimed and then paused. "You don't think maybe he doesn't love me anymore, do you?"

"What? No! That would be crazy! Our boyfriend's an idiot but he's not that stupid," Steve said.

"What did you just say?" Nancy asked.

"I said Jonathan's an idiot but he's not that stupid," Steve said.

"That's not what you said. You said: "Our boyfriend's an idiot," Nancy said.

"What? No, I didn't!" Steve exclaimed.

"Yes, you did!" Nancy yelled.

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"Robin, tell her," Steve said.

Robin froze like a deer in headlights as she cradled the tapes against her chest. She glanced at Nancy and then at Steve.

"You. . ." Robin started to say but looked at Steve for a moment, and her head snapped down to her watch free wrist. "Oh, would you look at the time. . .it's my lunch break!"

Robin dropped the tapes and ran right into the break room.

"See! You did say it!" Nancy asked.

"That doesn't prove anything! Robin is always squirrelly," Steve scoffed.

"You said it. I heard it. Robin heard it," Nancy smirked. "You called Jonathan our boyfriend."

"Hey, I mean, it's technically true. He's a boy, and he's my friend," Steve said, blushing. "You're never going to let me live this down. Are you?"

"Never," Nancy laughed.

Steve appreciated the fact that Nancy thought it was just a slip of the tongue. He wasn't ready to admit her about anything else his feelings for both her and Jonathan. How could he ever explain that? So, he let the bit go on for a while. . .up until the spring break from hell. Everything was perfect, Steve was on the cusp of revealing his feelings to both Jonathan and Nancy when shit hit the fan. He saved up money, working extra shifts, doing what his father asked of him, and then he was going to surprise Nancy with two plane tickets to Lenora. Of course, Chrissy Cunningham died, Eddie got pinned for the murders, but the real culprit was a new monster from the Upside Down. . .or rather an old one. Now, here he was, in Max's kitchen, trying to fix his bandages and trying not to cry over the image of almost losing Nancy.

"Hey, man, you alright?" Eddie's voice startled him.

"Yeah, yeah, all good," Steve said, adjusting his bandages and wincing when he decided to pat his stomach.

"Clearly, seeing Wheeler like that shook you up," he said. "Maybe I was right before."

Eddie's words sprang into his head again, and they kept spinning around in there.

". . .unambiguous sign of true love that these cynical eyes have ever seen. . ."

"You weren't wrong. . .about me anyway," Steve said. "I don't know about Nancy."

"She didn't waste a second going in there," Eddie said.

"That's just who she is," he said.

"Maybe, but Dustin told me about how she infiltrated the lab. . .stormed the gates of hell to get justice for her friend, Barb. . .she loved her, too. Maybe risking her neck out for people she doesn't know is something she does, but she's just as determined to do it for the people she loves. . .man, she's my new favorite superhero," Eddie grinned.

"Mine too," Steve blushed and paused. "It's complicated. . . She's still dating Jonathan Byers."

"So, he's all the way out in California, right? You're the one that's here," Eddie said, and Steve gave him a look. "Well, you're a better man than I am."

Steve glanced down at the hanky in his pocket. After his awakening and coming out to Robin, they had both been determined to find out any information they could find. They took off during Christmas break and traveled up to Indianapolis as well as Chicago. Steve smiled as he remembered the little bar in Chicago they had found, tucked away from everything else practically. This nice young woman who explained the hanky code to him before proceeding to make out with his best friend. It had been the best Christmas for the both of them.

"It's complicated because - " Steve started to say.

"Steve?" Nancy's voice spoke from the doorway.

Steve jumped, his heart practically leaping into his throat.

"Nancy? Are you okay?" Steve asked.

"I should be asking you that," Nancy said.

"I think it's safe to say that none of us are okay," Eddie replied.

"Are your bites hurting you?" Nancy asked, and he didn't say anything. "Steve?"

"Yeah, okay, they hurt like a bitch," Steve winced.

"We need to put some medicine on it and re bandage the wounds," Nancy said.

"I think I saw a first aid kit under the sink," Eddie said and bent down to retrieve it. "Here you go."

"Help me?" Nancy asked, and he nodded.

Steve shrugged off the vest and handed it Eddie. Nancy grinned at him and giggled.

"What?"

"I know who you reminded of in Eddie's vest," Nancy said. "Tom Cruise from the Outsiders minus the teeth, of course."

"Really. . .you know, I always thought Tom Cruise was hot in that," Steve said, and Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva.

"Yeah, me too, especially with the tattoo," Nancy said as she took off his bandages. "You should get a tattoo."

"Yeah, what would I get?" Steve asked. "Your name?"

"Oh, yeah, our boyfriend would love that," Nancy giggled.

"What?!" Eddie exclaimed, his eyes comically wide.

"It was slip of the tongue," Steve explained, and Eddie didn't ask any questions.

Nancy put the bandages on him, wrapping her arms around him as she did so. She stood on her tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"I think you and I both know that it stopped being a joke a long time ago," Nancy whispered, and it took everything in him not to shudder. "We're going to get out of this, Steve, and we're going to see our boyfriend again. Our boyfriend."

She made sure the road rash wounds were cleaned thoroughly before patching them up as well. She kissed his cheek, put the vest back on, and went off towards the bathroom. Steve leaned against the kitchen counter, wondering if she really meant that.

"It's complicated because I'm also in love with her boyfriend," Steve said.

"Shit! Okay, yeah, I didn't see that coming," Eddie said with wide eyes. "Wait, I know we've been through hell together, but why are you telling me this?"

"I thought that maybe you might be a little safer than others," he replied.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because, you know. . .do you really want me to say it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah!"

"You're, you know. . .the hanky," Steve whispered.

"You mean this one?" Eddie asked, pulling it out of his back pocket. "It's just something I wear because I saw another heavy metal guitarist wearing one just like it."

"Oh. . .oh, shit," Steve said, and then he laughed. "Sorry, man, I thought you were like me."

"Nah, those are just rumors," Eddie said, flashing his dimples. "I never tried to deny them, though. They hated it when I acted all flattered and not like it was an insult, which it isn't."

"Thanks, man," Steve smiled.

"So, when did you know that it wasn't just girls?" Eddie asked.

"One day, Nancy and Jonathan just walked into Family Video. . .I looked into his eyes, and I just knew. I realized then it wasn't just Jonathan that I noticed. I looked at guys and girls over the years, checking out every bit of them. . .with my eyes glancing at their lips and the way their clothes fit and wondering what's under them. . .what they look like and what they would feel like," Steve said. "It hit me all at once."

"Wait. . .does everyone not do that?" Eddie asked.

"Uh, no, dude, they most certainly do not," Steve said.

"Oh. . .OH!" Eddie exclaimed and paused. "So, it's not normal to be a little into ot when you kiss your guys friends?"

"Normal, yes. Straight? Hell no," Steve laughed and slapped his shoulder.

"They were fucking right," he breathed and paused again. "Oh shit, okay. . . I feel like half gay isn't the proper term. . ."

"Bisexual," Steve said. "Only if you prefer labels."

"Okay, okay," Eddie rubbed his face and pushed his bangs up.

"You okay over there?" Steve asked.

Eddie leaned against the counter, his whole body relaxing as he exhaled. He smiled.

"Yeah. . .so, are you going to tell them how you feel?" Eddie asked him.

"I don't know," Steve said. "I mean, I had plans before, you know, but everything is so messed up now. . ."

"If you don't take the chance now. . .you'll might not get another, especially with everything that's happening now," he said and sighed. "I had so many chances to get to know her. . .but I thought she was like every other popular person who hated me . . . Then she surprised me, and we had this one moment, then she was gone. Life is short, man. Don't let your insecurities get in the way."

"Yeah, that's true," Steve said. "You're pretty smart for a third time senior."

"Fuck off," Eddie said laughing. "You're pretty great for a jock. I was glad I was wrong that all jocks are the same. . . I think I'm starting to like being proven wrong."

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve said softly.

"Anything for my fellow bisexy," Eddie winked at him.

"No! No! Absolutely not!" Steve exclaimed and Eddie laughed.

It was that moment with Eddie, that moment in the Upside Down too, that Steve clung to after he died. His words echoed in his head after Max was put into a coma, and the Upside Down came to Hawkins. He held onto them even after all that and tried not to think about Nancy's face when he told her how he felt. He tried not to think about Dustin's face when he told them that Eddie had died. Steve tried to desperately cling to the hope that the metalhead had left him with, that Robin continued to drill into them. He tried not to think about Nancy's worried expression and the words that they would talk whenever they saw Jonathan again.

He showed up two days later when they were gathering donations for the 'earthquake' relief that they were holding at the high school. A yellow pizza van pulled up, squealing loudly. Will, El, a man with long hair, and Jonathan spilled out of the vehicle. Steve watched as Jonathan and Nancy ran toward each other, Jonathan twirling her around in his arms. Steve smiled softly, watching them for a moment. Before he knew it, Jonathan was grabbing him and pulling him into the hug. No one else was looking, too busy hugging each other. Everything else seemed to fade into nothingness for a moment, blurry shapes in the background as Steve pulled back to look at them.

"Our boyfriend's home," Nancy said softly.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"Slip of the tongue," Steve blushed.

"It was an accident then, but I think Jonathan needs to know if you mean it now," Nancy said.

"Do you mean it?" He asked Steve.

"Yes," he said. "Yeah, definitely. I love you. . .both of you."

Suddenly, Jonathan is crashing his lips to his. . .in front of everyone. Steve didn't care about that, though. All he cared about was the fact that Jonathan was kissing him, and Nancy was with them. . .in between them. He smirked as he kissed Jonathan back when Nancy let out a delightful gasp. Dustin shrieked.

"OH MY GOD!"

Steve quickly broke the kiss with Jonathan to look at everyone. They were all staring at him in shock. . .everyone except Robin and the man he assumed was Argyle. They were both grinning.

"What?" Steve asked. "I'm welcoming our boyfriend home."

"I thought that was just a joke!" Dustin exclaimed.

"It never was," Steve smirked. "Not really."

"Oh. . .and everyone involved is okay with this?" He asked.

"Well, I was the one who kissed him, so, yeah," Jonathan grinned.

"I'm definitely okay with this," Nancy said.

"I'm happy for all of you," Dustin said.

Dustin did look happy, but it killed Steve to see that there wasn't the same light in his eyes as before. It was tinged with sadness, and he could tell that Dustin was trying his hardest to be happy right now, but they were down a member, and it was difficult for him not to feel that. Steve pulled himself away from his partners and hugged Dustin tightly. The guy he had come to love like a brother was in so much pain right now, and he would give anything to fix it. Anything.

"Thanks, man," Steve said.

"I love you," he said. "You're my brother."

His heart clenched at those words. He loved hearing that but at the same time, they sounded so sad.

"I love you, too," Steve replied.

Steve pulled a way from the hug and ruffled Dustin's curls. He turned to find his partners being hugged by both their siblings. In this moment, his group of friends felt more like a family than his own parents ever did. They were going to face this thing together, and looking at them now, he felt like they could really accomplish something.

Two weeks later. . .

Steve’s vision was fading, the edges going dark as he tried to stay awake. He could feel his own blood in his hands. . .at his sides. . .just when his bites were starting to heal. He coughed, and now he could feel blood in his throat. Nancy and Jonathan were by his sides, crying.

"Stay with us, Steve! Please!" Nancy screamed.

"Steve!" Jonathan cried. "Come on, no, don't close your eyes!"

"Tired," Steve gasped.

Nancy was kissing him. Doesn't she care that she was going to get blood on her lips? Jonathan didn't either, apparently, because he kissed him too. Suddenly, he heard more footsteps. Joyce and Hopper's face swam above him, their faces pale blurry shapes.

"Let's get him in the van, hurry!" Hopper yelled.

Hands reached for him, and everything went dark. The last thing he saw was a large winged creature flying overhead. Did it have Eddie's face? Memories of his life swam before him. . .memories of playing with his nannies. . .meeting Tommy. . .joining the basketball team, the swim team, the baseball team. . .hoping each time his parents would be there to cheer him on. Then came the memories of meeting Nancy, falling for her, and the dreaded memories that came after. Her smile and her voice called to him like a beacon along with Jonathan's. He remembered getting to know Dustin, getting to Robin, and realizing that there's more love in this world than just romantic love. . .he wasn't alone anymore. He had a family. The kids and everyone else. Suddenly, he was standing in a forest. . .a mixture of green and brown swirled around him. Nancy and Jonathan stood holding hands in a clearing.

"I like trees," Jonathan whispered, his voice echoing in the empty forest.

A demogorgon stood behind them, and Steve started running towards them, trying to call out. He wasn't moving, though, and he couldn't speak either. Just as the demogorgon jumped on them, Steve woke up. A bright light overhead nearly blinded him, and suddenly, people surrounded him and pulled something out of his throat. Oh, he was in a hospital. . .hopefully. He glanced at the doctor trying to talk to him, but everything turned black again. When he woke up, he was a little more alert this time. His eyes landed on two people in the corner of the room. Eddie and Chrissy?

"Oh god, am I dead?" Steve asked.

Eddie laughed, and Chrissy giggled into his shoulder.

"No, you're very much alive," Eddie said.

"Then what the fuck?" Steve asked.

Dustin appeared at Eddie's side and into Steve’s view. He launched into the story of how Eddie (now a vampire) and Vecna's victims (who weren't actually dead) had helped El save the day. The gates were closed, and Vecna was no more. Steve hung onto every word, smiling at the light, though a little dim, was now back in Dustin's eyes. When Dustin finished telling him, he burst into tears and threw himself into Steve’s neck. Steve groaned.

"Careful, Dustin," Eddie said.

"No, man. It's alright, worth it," Steve smiled and carefully wrapped an arm around his brother.

After Dustin finished crying, he pulled back and wiped his eyes. Eddie patted him on the back.

"I'm glad you're okay," Dustin sniffled, and then he gasped. "Oh, shit! I need to tell Nancy and Jonathan! They've been back and forth between your room and Max's room. She's awake, by the way! I'm going to go get them!"

Dustin paused for a moment as if he was thinking about staying before shaking his head and rushing out of the room.

"He's never going to leave our side, man," Eddie said. "Not that I'm complaining."

"It's cute. He's happy you guys are alive," Chrissy said.

Steve grinned and laughed when he saw the markings on Eddie's neck.

"Is that a hickey, Eddie?" Steve said teasingly.

"I did that!" Chrissy said proudly.

"She went after me harder than the bats did," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

"I can't help it if you're so yummy," Chrissy said, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him to her.

Eddie moved his arm behind her and tugged her closer, brushing his nose with hers. Chrissy giggled softly.

"Not as yummy as you are," Eddie said and paused. "Wait, is that still cute to say coming from a vampire?"

"Yes," Chrissy laughed.

The door burst open. Nancy and Jonathan came running in, breathing heavily. Nancy burst into tears and threw herself at him, climbing in beside him. Steve groaned again and laughed, wrapping an arm around her. Nancy pulled back a little.

"Oh! Did I hurt you?" Nancy asked.

"A little, so worth it," Steve said.

Nancy laughed. She began kissing his face all over, and finally, she landed on his lips, kissing him deeply. Steve smiled even though he could taste her salty tears on his lips. Nancy broke the kiss, letting Jonathan in to do the same, his own tears intermingling with Nancy's.

"We love you," Jonathan said softly.

"Love you too," Steve said weakly and cleared his throat.

"You're an asshole, though. That demogorgon was coming for me," Jonathan said.

"Cute boys make people do stupid things," Steve replied. "You're so worth it."

Jonathan started crying again and kissed him, running his fingers through his hair.

"Uh, we're just going to go and give you a few moments," Eddie said with a grin. "Glad you're alive, Steve."

Steve peered over Jonathan's shoulder to match Eddie's grin. He walked out the door with Chrissy. Clearly, they were going to make out or judging by the way that Chrissy pinched Eddie's ass on the way out, they were going to fuck. Steve smiled and buried his head into Nancy's hair.

"You know, I think there's room enough for you too," Steve said to Jonathan.

"I'm not risking pulling on anything," he said, and Steve laughed.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and plopped down in the chair next to Steve’s bed. He took his hand hand in his before taking Nancy's other one.

"It's okay, Jonathan's new bed is big enough for both of us," Nancy said.

Steve opened his mouth to say something when the door burst open, and Robin came running in with Vickie. Dustin was breathing heavily behind them.

"I tried - I tried to stop her," Dustin gasped.

"You're awake! You have no idea how scared I was. The thought that I would never see my best friend again. . . You are a sacrificial idiot! How many times do we have to go through this? You're important, too!" Robin yelled and burst into tears.

"I'm sorry," Steve said softly.

Jonathan moved out of the way and let Robin hug Steve carefully. Robin pulled back to stand at the edge of the bed with Vickie.

"You're not allowed to do that again," Robin sniffled and then paused. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No, you're good," Jonathan said.

Steve looked at the shirt Robin was wearing and then at Vickie. He tried to hide the knowing smile on his face, but apparently, it was pretty evident.

"Oh my God! He knows!" Vickie blurted out with wide eyes. "Although, I don't think I really care that he knows, unless you do, of course, Robin. How does he know, though?"

"He knows about me, and now they know about me. . .I think. Did I tell you guys or just think about telling you guys?" Robin asked, pointing to Nancy and Jonathan. "Do you really not care if they know about us?"

"If you trust them, so do I," Vickie said. "Besides, if they can keep something like this a secret then anything is possible."

"Wait, how did you know about me and Vickie?" Robin asked.

"Well, first off, you're wearing a pink shirt that's definitely not yours, and Vickie's wearing the shirt that I let you borrow that you never gave back," Steve said.

Vickie and Robin looked down, cursing when they saw he was right.

"Is that what you were doing in the on call room? Switching shirts?" Dustin asked.

"No, buddy. We were not," Robin said, slapping his shoulder. "We're dating."

"OH! Is that why you wouldn't date Steve?" Dustin asked.

"Hi, I'm Robin Buckley, permanent resident in the lesbian department," she said, wiggling her fingers at him.

"Nancy, you told me Steve and Robin had dated!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"I thought they had!" Nancy exclaimed defensively. "I know now that they are strictly platonic."

"Wait, were you both jealous of Robin?" Steve asked, and they blushed. "Well, that's cute."

"It's okay, I was jealous of Steve at one point," Vickie said.

"You were?" Robin asked.

"I had this whole plan where I would send back Fast Times to Family Video, hoping Robin would somehow notice that I had paused it at a specific moment, letting her know that I liked women. Of course, I overhead Steve and Robin talking their relationship to the next level. . .they wanted to get married! I didn't know they were talking platonically. Without even thinking, I got back together with Dan. Even though he was an asshole, he's still a person with feelings, you know. . .I can't believe it, but as it turns out, he was using me too. . .so, no hard feelings, I guess. My head was just spinning. . .you make my head spin," Vickie sighed. "I'll stop talking. . ."

"Don't you dare, I could listen to you talk forever," Robin said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Vickie squealed, stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around Robin's neck, and kissed her deeply. Robin sighed against her mouth, smiling into the kiss. Dustin grinned as he moved past them to stand on the other side of Steve’s bed.

"They are so cute," Dustin said. "Hey, I saw Eddie and Chrissy go into the on call room. . .you think they're going to "switch shirts" too?"

"Definitely," Steve snorted.

"I don't think so, I saw Argyle and Eden go in there after them," Vickie said, breaking her kiss with Robin for a moment before continuing.

"Eden?" Steve asked.

"Suzie's sister. Suzie and her family came down to help when they heard about the earthquake," Dustin said. "OH! I should bring her here to meet you! She's been dying to. . . Wait, hold on, you don't think that they're all switching shirts in there?"

"Argyle is a very. . .loveable person, and he doesn't deny it either," Jonathan laughed. "I wouldn't put it past him. Eddie is his type."

"How would that even work. . .those beds are very small. . .WAIT, WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT THIS?" Dustin yelled. "Eddie's my brother! Gah! SUZIE!"

They all laughed as they watched him storm out of the room. Vickie and Robin had finally broken the kiss. Robin's arms were wrapped around her waist, supporting her on her tiptoes, as Vickie trailed her fingers up Robin's arms. They beamed at each other.

"I think we're going to find another room," Robin said. "Glad you're alive, Steve!"

She took Vickie's hand, and they left the hospital room, giggling. Steve smiled after they left, staring at the doorway they left through. Everything was falling into place for everyone. . .including Steve. . .he could believe it. . . They had won. He looked at Nancy and Jonathan. Nancy's eyes twinkled as though she guessed what he was thinking.

"Can you believe we're here now?" Nancy asked.

"No," Steve said. "But also, yes."

"You know, this could have been the solution to our problem back then," Jonathan said.

"Don't dwell on that," Nancy said.

"We're here now," Steve said.

"We just - made things so complicated," Jonathan said.

"Well, they're not complicated now, and we have all the time in the world," Nancy said. "We have more time."

"Yeah," Jonathan grinned.

Steve laughed. He doesn't know why he was laughing, but it suddenly bursts out of him. He was so deliriously happy.

"Steve?"

"Everything's. . .perfect."

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler x steve harrington #stancy #nancy wheeler x jonathan byers #jancy #steve harrington x jonathan byers #stonathan #nancy wheeler x steve harrington x jonathan byers #stoncy #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual jonathan byers #pansexual nancy wheeler #robin buckley #lesbian robin buckley #stranger things vickie #bisexual vickie #robin x vickie #rockie #rovickie #eddie munson #eddie munson lives #chrissy cunningham #hellcheer #dustin henderson #henderfam #stranger things argyle #rueleigh writes

[lepertamar]

college grads are LITERALLY stupider than everyone else on earth in all the ways that matter

#just saw someone ask ‘how could anyone possibly learn [easily learnable through observation and practice skill that many alive ppl have] #‘don’t be silly no one can Learn Things what if i don’t already know it so i can get it right’ SCHOOL! IS! POISON! #listen i have had 1 full semester of college almost 6 years ago and i use the internet to teach myself topics every. single. day. #just casually. while walking down the street. on the bus. in the bathroom. chilling. #if a thought that goes ‘i wonder why…’ comes to you you can look it up. between the internet and libraries and fileswaps you can learn #everything there is to know about a topic. organized at the pace and pattern you want. you have to get into the habit of #wondering about things and noticing your own wondering and formulating it as a question anlooking it up in odd times in between life #it’s definitely a skill you have to cultivate and at some point for some topics you hit a wall where you have to find and ask real people #in order to continue any further and sometimes you can’t so you have to admit there’s a specific articulatable thing you don’t know yet #which is way ahead of the curve intellectually. and college teaches you the ANTITHESIS of that skill! #coal sings

[unknownmads]

CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

#toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #jjk #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #prison #prison toji #inmate #inmate toji #pen pals #jail #jail toji #toji x y/n #jujutsu toji #feral #i need him #I LOVE TERRIBLE MEN #toji headcanons #smutish

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

ring pop proposal ♡

fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.

the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.

soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as your parents agree.

you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.

“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.

mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.

she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.

he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.

you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.

“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.

“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”

“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.

katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.

“gave her one of these !”

“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”

katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.

“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.

she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.

she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.

mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.

#another childhood friends one whats new #can you tell this is my fav trope teehee<3 #Idk if you can tell but it is #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo fluff #you can take this as a prequel for like two of my childhood friends to lvrs fics lololol

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

#fanfiction #fanart #reblogging #boop

[cherryredstars]

Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!

I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(

Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?

Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff

Summary: He helps you, you help him.

A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!

Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)

This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.

Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 

You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 

“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”

“Is there a problem here?”

His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.

Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 

Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 

Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 

You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 

“Keys are in my pants pocket.”

You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 

At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  

His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”

The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 

“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 

Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 

“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”

Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 

He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 

“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 

Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 

“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 

He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 

You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 

Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 

His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 

“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”

You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 

It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 

He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 

You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.

You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

Join the Taglist

#cherry's requests🍒 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel o hara #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #cherry's specials!🍒

[luveline]

Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 

“Hi Hotch.” 

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 

You nod into your rubbing. 

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Not for the fruit.” 

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 

“You could be a doctor.” 

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 

You stare up at him. “You want to?” 

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“My boyfriend might not like it.” 

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 

“Why not?” 

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 

“Yes?” 

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 

“Why?” 

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 

“I’d like to go back.” 

“Home?” 

“For breakfast.” 

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 

“What?” you ask. 

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 

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[pucksandpower]

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

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[marvelouslizzie]

Same Lonely Night

summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

word count: 2.6K

warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n

A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 

He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 

He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.

That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.

“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 

“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 

That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 

So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.

Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.

He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.

“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.

He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.

His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.

It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.

Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.

Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.

Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.

What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 

He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 

Jesus… It makes him so hard!

Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.

That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 

He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 

Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 

He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.

There’s a first time for everything.

He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.

He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.

“Oh god…”

He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.

“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”

He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.

“Anything you want, doll.”

His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” 

He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 

Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Shit! She heard me.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #avengers smut #roommate!bucky barnes #my stories

[mssainz]

PART 2 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: None

AN: We are still getting there guys. I'll update as soon as I can. Please bear with me. You can comment down so I can tag you for the next part. I hope you like this one. Love youuuu!

Cael faced Carlos. He said thank you and gave him his sweetest smile. The smile that he actually got from him. Yes, Cael is a spitting image of his father. He is indeed Carlos mini-me which you think is unfair as you are the one, who carried him for months and took care of him for years.

Looking at Carlos standing in front of you is making your world stop. Your shoes become glued, refusing to move your feet out of the ground and an immense silence dampens your ears. And the moment you met his eyes, your mind started to tell you to run but your body is casually betraying you. All of this made you rethink your decision to come back here.

Fate must be joking with me and this is not very funny.

“Mama, can I still get an ice cream?” Cael said, interrupting your train of thoughts. Your eyes move to your son.

Thank you baby, I think your ice cream will save us right now.

You smiled and gave him a nod of approval. You swiftly reached out for his hand and made a move. Years have passed and you thought you were completely healed and had the strength to face him again. But now that he is here, you realize that your wounds are still fresh.

Cael, get Mama out of here. Please, I'm still not ready for this. Not yet.

You didn't even say thank you to Carlos for returning your son safely in your arms. But before you can even walk away from him. Carlos called out for Cael, which made your son stop and look back at him.

“Wait Cael,” Carlos said and started walking towards you two.

What the hell? Get away from me. I mean from us.

He knelt down to talk to Cael. He is just a few inches away from you, talking with your son, with his son. You stand frozen beside Cael not knowing what to do. You are just trying to read what Carlos is trying to do and what's going on in his mind right now.

“I think I'm also craving ice cream. Can I come with you bud?” Carlos asked, not breaking eye contact with Cael.

Lies. You don't like ice cream Carlos. You are not fond of it. What are you even thinking right now? How can you stay so calm when I am literally about to faint here?

You saw how Cael’s face lit up. That glow in his eyes and that smile in his face, you knew he wanted Carlos to come with you two. No doubt about it you know Cael's expression very much.

“Mama, can he come with us?” Cael said looking up to you, waiting for your response. Carlos also looked at you.

“Mama please,” and there goes Cael giving you his puppy eyes. And Carlos smiling beside him is not helping the situation. You never know that Cael and Carlos combo is something you cannot resist.

“Okay, fine. He can come with us,” you gave in and rolled your eyes. Cael gave Carlos a high five before giggling with each other.

What is going on, seriously? How come these two get along so much when they just met? What on Earth is happening?

Carlos lifted Cael and carried him. Your jaw dropped but immediately brushed it off. You two walk side-by-side towards the ice cream stall. And it is the longest walk you have taken in your entire life. You can't help but wonder why Carlos is not asking you anything.

You bought two chocolate ice creams for the boys. Meanwhile, you got a pistachio ice cream for yourself. You didn't even want an ice cream in the first place but you needed something to do to lessen how awkward you feel about this whole situation. The three of you sat on the bench near the ice cream stall.

“Mama, what's the flavor you got?” Cael curiously asked while looking at what's on your hand.

“It's called pistachio ice cream, honey. Do you want to try it?” You asked Cael who is now sitting on Carlos lap. You try to focus on your son avoiding Carlos.

He is invisible, he is not here and he is not real.

Cael nodded and gave your ice cream a try. His face immediately wrinkled which made Carlos laugh.

“You didn't like it?” Carlos asked while wiping some of the ice cream at the corner of Cael's lips.

“It doesn't taste good, Mama. Chocolate is better,” Cael said after gulping the remaining pistachio in his mouth. You just laugh at your son's reaction.

You sat there awkwardly until you finished the ice cream. All this time you were munching the pistachio that you got, avoiding having conversation with Carlos. Fortunately, he is also not talking to you and just focused on Cael on his lap. They are casually teasing each other, giggling beside you. You are still puzzled why he is just enjoying the moment and not confronting you. You know he definitely has a clue on what's going on and you can notice that.

After having ice cream, Cael and Carlos decided to play tag. You have never seen Cael this happy. This view feels so wrong but feels right at the same time. It feels so wrong that that the boys have to meet this way. But it feels so right that they are finally having fun with each other.

The sky changes into its orange hue. Carlos offers to drive you two to where you are staying here in Madrid. You didn't refuse because you were too exhausted to even grab a cab.

“Where are you two staying?” These are the first words that he said to you. After five years of not seeing each other this is where you start your conversation.

“In a nearby Airbnb,” you bluntly replied.

As you entered his car, his scent started intoxicating you. It is still the same. This scent once felt like home but not anymore or as you make yourself believe it was not anymore.

The drive to your place was still awkward. You were in the passenger seat with Cael who is constantly asking you questions about what he is seeing on the road. And you can tell that Carlos is checking on you two in his rear-mirror.

“What was your name again?” Cael blurted out of nowhere while leaning to Carlos at the driver seat.

Wait, what Cael? Baby, you two played together and you didn't even know his name! Now it makes sense to me how you didn't even insist that he is your Papa immediately after he told you that maybe he just looks like him. Cael, I think I should remind you more about not talking to strangers, honey.

“You can call me Uncle Chilli,” You raised an eyebrow on what he just said.

Uncle Chilli, huh?

“Okay, Uncle Chilli,” Cael said giggling. You can see that he finds his name silly.

After almost an hour's drive, you finally arrived at your place. You immediately get out of his car with Cael. Carlos followed you two at the doorstep. You then opened the door and let Cael go in first.

“I think we need to talk,” Carlos said.

“Yes. We need to. That's I'm here,”

I'm calling all the angels and saints, the Avengers, and even Power Rangers. Please give me the strength to talk to this man.

TAG LIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @carlossainzbelongswithme @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @charlottef1 @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @wonderfulkawaii

next part

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x you #afterfiveyears #cs55 #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr