#I want to sit on the floor in therapy but I can’t even say it cause it sounds stupid but I really want to sit on the fucking floor

[mellaithwen]

.

#I struggled with what to talk about in therapy this week so of course my chronic illness said cHALLENGE ACCEPTED. #but here’s the kicker — I know the second I open that box that it is going to fuck me up so I’ve been drifting past it #but. idk. #I want to sit on the floor in therapy but I can’t even say it cause it sounds stupid but I really want to sit on the fucking floor #I know if I’m not ready to dive in then I’ll undo progress #but equally I’ll never be ready cause the medical trauma bullshit runs so deep and is so prevalent in all aspects because the fucking #disease is prevalent everywhere and #I don’t have the resilience for any of it #I have one dose of victoza left and that’s it - the pharmacy have giving me 5 IOU’s so far #and I was finally seeing my numbers steadying out #and it makes me so angry because it’s too much #it’s too much to advocate for yourself and research and manage and try and you ask for help and you get shit in return #and I’m so burnt out with it but you can’t even BE fully burnt out because that would mean death #so all you can do is be a bad student #and then the endocrinologist tuts #in your five minute appointment that you waited 18 months for #it’s too fucking much I WANT A FUCKING BREAK #will delete this later #just needed to rant and get it out of me so it doesn’t fester like always #I’m tired #t1dlookslikeme #type 1 diabetes

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. in good hands.

about. katsuki experiences phantom pain in his hands from quirk usage and you try to massage the pain away.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, hurt comfort, fluff, angst, phantom pain/limb, war arc references, ptsd, mentions of therapy, descriptions of pain, bakugou being loved so tender, afab!reader + pro hero!bakugou.

the idea of giving bakugou hand massages is so intimate.

his quirk is so raw and powerful, i feel like becoming a pro-hero would only make his palms more calloused, cause aches between his fingers and scars that burn like with a phantom pain at random points during the day. and even though katsuki is smart enough to know that his scars have healed, his wounds have scabbed over and new skin has grown — he can’t shake the stabbing, tingling feeling that crawls up his arms as if a thousand tiny needles are pricking him.

the massages start when you catch bakugou on his knees in the middle of your shared bedroom, his hands clenched in fists so tight his nails have made his palms bleed. you set the fright in his eyes, the ache intertwined with the mauve brown that forms a rim around the ruby centre.

“what…what happened kats?” you’re quick to fall to your knees by his side, hesitant to touch him, worried for his safety — because katsuki hasn’t been like this in years. he’s been doing so well, seeing his therapist and taking his meds — ever since the day he came back to life.

but you know just by looking at him and listening to the ragged breaths just barely escaping his lungs, that bakugou is not okay. “i don’t fucking know,” his voice is strangled and panicked, like a deer caught in a hunter’s trap it can’t escape. “it just…it just fucking hurts a-and i can’t get it to stop.”

that day, you hesitantly reach out to touch katsuki— trying not to spook him as if he’s a frazzled wild animal. “let me see,” you whisper evenly, avoiding a croak in your voice because seeing him hurt, hurts you. slowly but surely, the blonde uncurls his fists, letting you take his hands into your own — smaller ones. at first, his strong and muscular stature flinches back, crumbles down to the ground in chunks of the brash man he used to be. “it’s okay, baby, i got you.”

your words wrap around katsuki like a tender hug, safe and secure between each and every one. your finger tips trace softly over the marred flesh of his hands, guiding katsuki through each of his painfully relived memories. trembles wrack the blonde’s body like a high magnitude earthquake — he can barely hold it back now, the tears that gather in his sun kissed lashes and burn tracks down his cheeks. but you don’t want him to hold back. you want him to feel.

thumbing the parts of his hands where the pain is centred, you lean forward to kiss bakugou on the forehead, providing an epicentre of relief. he wouldn’t call you a cure, no, it’d be too selfish to put the burden of his ease on the person he loves most. instead, he says that you help him heal, soothing the fuzziness locked between his cramping digits and extends up the muscles of his arms.

when you touch him as if he’s made of glass, katsuki knows that he can be vulnerable with you and that dull ebb of phantom agony seems to dissipate under the gentle drag of your fingertips over his skin. the two of you stay on the floor for a little longer, working through the aches pulsing in katsuki’s palms and arms until they eventually stop — just like his tears do.

“thank you,” he says, voice as quiet as you’ve ever heard it. “‘m sorry—“

“never be sorry for being in pain or asking for help.” you cut him off before his words take residence in the quiet hum of the air. shifting to your knees so that you tower over him (sitting legs crossed on the floor), you drag katsuki’s head to rest in your chest — cradling him and shielding him from the cruel world. “i don’t ever want you to be sorry for this. i’ll by your side no matter what. you hear me, baby?”

katsuki only nods, knowing doesn’t need to respond with words while his hands hesitantly come up to wrap around your waist. he pulls you into him so that you don’t disappear. and while you stroke back his hair and squeeze him so tight — katsuki realises that as long as he has you, he’ll never be weak or have to hide how much life hurts sometimes.

as long as he’s with you, he’ll be in good hands.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugou imagines #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugou drabbles #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagines #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #bakugo angst #katsuki bakugou x reader #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[redxwater]

Waiting Room (Chapter 1)

Leon Kennedy x F!Reader

(Warnings chapter 1 : depression, anxiety, harsh language.)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

“Yeah, no i’ll be fine Claire. Call you later” a young blonde boy spoke through the phone. Call connected to Washington D.C from NYC. On the other line in the capital was a younger woman. “Okay, text me if there’s anything!” The brunette girl smiled before hanging up. Claire was Leon’s best friend, but she isn’t always capable of helping him. She tries her best though.

Leon didn’t want a foster family, even if it was for the better. He lived with Claire’s family for a few months before getting a scholarship in a music major. He tells himself he’s lucky, in a way… Claire has known him for 4 years, since they were freshmen. Her family loved Leon, sometimes they hoped they would end up together, but they never did.

With a deep sigh, he rolled out of bed and put on the jeans that were on the floor, and a sweater. He threw on his old white sneakers and put some deodorant on. He grabbed his phone and headphones and was out the door.

He didn’t brush his hair, he hadn’t for 3 days. He stuffed some gum in his mouth and spat it out 5 minutes later, before heading into english class. He had been at college for a month, it wasn’t that bad, but he thinks it is. Everything sucks. Literally everything. Depression was something he struggled with even before he lost his parents. He tried therapy for a long while but didn’t feel like it worked.

Leon is a quiet observer, he knows most people in his classes. Well their names at least, today was no different. Despite his depression his grades are peaked, he has the same routine everyday and that includes school work. “Leon Kennedy?” the professor went through the absence list. He sticks his hand in the air and puts it down again. The man in front of the class nods and goes on until it’s done.

English was boring, Leon always has been a very smart kid. But maybe that was a good thing right now too. He didn’t have too put too much effort into everything.

The blonde boy hadn’t shared a dorm for a few weeks, he didn’t expect anyone to move in by now but when he opens his door at the end of the day, he’s surprised by boxes everywhere. He just tries to ignore it and grabs a glass of water.

Leon dials Claires number and waits for her to pick up “Hey what’s up?” The other line speaks. “I think i got a roommate, there’s boxes everywhere” he says while sitting on the small kitchen counter. “Oh cool! Are they nice?” She asks with enthusiasm, hoping Leon could make some friends, maybe. “Dunno, maybe. Haven’t met them yet. But it’s a mess here and i don’t like it” he mumbles a bit while inspecting the boxes in the room.

Leon has always been quite neat if it comes to anything but his bedroom. His bedroom is a mess, not disgusting but just a mess. “Can’t you put it all in their room?” She asks sounding a bit crisp through he phone. “Why would i? It’s not my shit. I’m just gonna be in my room.” He says and abruptly hangs up. He’s not annoyed about sharing a dorm. He doesn’t care. As long as they acknowledge each other’s presence and keep things to as much as a “hi” there should be no problem.

Leon settles behind his desk in his room and does some homework before playing a few games. Around 7 he goes out the door, there’s still boxes. Where could that roommate be?

“Oh shit i’m sorry!” A girl bumps into Leon in front of the dorm room he came out of. “Oh you’re my roommate!” You exclaim. “Right.” Leon dryly replies. You tell him your name and stick out your hand for the blonde guy shake. “Leon.” He shakes your hand. “Can you sort those boxes out?” He asks with an annoyed tone “Oh yeah totally” you smile and go into the dorm. “See you later, Leon” you close the door and Leon walks away.

You spend all evening unpacking and put stuff everywhere around the dorm. You accidentally open the door to Leons room, thinking it was the bathroom. The room is dark, it smells fine. Mostly like men’s deodorant. Even in the dark you see clothes everywhere on the floor. You shrug your shoulders, you’re not the neatest either.

After 2 hours Leon returns and looks slightly surprised for a second to see you. He’s not used to living with someone in his dorm. He doesn’t say anything and just walks by to his room. Before he can enter you speak “where did you go?” You ask trying to get to know him a bit. “Doesn’t matter” he cuts off and closes his door. Weird guy, you think. But there’s something about him, you just know.

-

Thanks for the votes on my poll pookies!! Hope u like it

#leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #re4 #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you

[morganbritton132]

What happened with the death threats? is Steve okay? in your tags you said you were gonna put someone confronting Steve, even if that didn't happen, is he ever paranoid? Ive been thinking about this all day hsbeudnbeid i have so many questions lmao

Steve kinda just stops.

He doesn’t even realize it until the morning after Eddie confronted him about the letters, but he just stopped doing things after he got the first letter a couple of months ago. He stopped going grocery shopping. He stopped getting coffee. He stopped going on his nightly runs. He’s missed the last three of his and Max’s bi-weekly trivia night with their friends from physical therapy.

He can’t even remember the last time he hung out with Robin that wasn’t at his house.

It’s a little ironic that the only places he ever is these days are at work or home, the two places he’s received letters at. He just stopped doing anything and he didn’t even notice.

He only realizes it because Eddie asks if he wants to get breakfast before they talk, and Steve can’t bring himself to step outside. He feels like he’s seventeen again, all alone in a big empty house and trying to convince himself that there isn’t a dead girl in his pool.

“I can make breakfast.”

“We don’t have anything to make for breakfast,” Eddie says.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, yanking them through the tangles at the ends because he doesn’t even understand where the anxiety in his chest is coming from. He’s been outside. He goes outside to go to work five days a week, so – so he shrugs his shoulders, “Uh…why don’t you go and I’ll – I’ll do, uh, something around here.”

Eddie squints at him and taps a beat against his collarbone before asking bluntly, “Do you not want to be around me?”

“What?”

“Why are you acting like this? I know you’re mad that I found your letters but you’re the one that lied to me, Steve. I think – I think it’s pretty rich that you’re trying to make me feel like shit because I care about you.”

“I’m not doing that,” Steve said, eyes shifting to Eddie and then away. Eddie only makes eye contact if he’s angry and – yeah, Steve probably gave him plenty to be angry about. “I want to be with you.”

“Then act like it. Let’s go.”

“I can’t.”

“…Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Steve whispered, and it makes him feel worse that Eddie just deflates. The frustration subsides and he looks away, and Steve doesn’t want that. He wants Eddie to be mad at him. He wants Eddie to blame this all on Steve and tell him what it is that people hate so much about him so he can change. He wants – “My head is so fucked right now, and I don’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Eddie perks up at that, “Are you going to-“

“No. I – I feel… I can’t leave,” Steve tries to explain. “I feel like I can’t leave. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does. It makes complete sense, Steve. Someone is threatening you and you’ve been dealing with it alone for months. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I don’t want to be scared.”

Eddie nods and then he sits down on the floor in their foyer. He makes grabby hands at Steve until Steve sits down with him, and then he holds his hand. Eddie asks, “What do you want, Stevie?”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Eddie gives him a kind smile – the smile that makes Steve fall in love over and over again – and he squeeze’s Steve hand before whispering like their sharing the most precious secret, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

#not sure if this even remotely answers the prompt #I feel like this whole situation would bring up all of Steve’s old insecurities #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[munson-blurbs]

eddie/hospital/morphine button

Because this man is a menace, even when he doesn't mean to be.

Warnings: mentions of smut, hospital/injuries (unrelated to the Upside Down), regulated morphine use (obviously), pregnant!Reader

WC: 1.3k

--

Your heels clack on the floor as you attach the visitor badge to your blazer, hurrying down the hall to room 114. You’re exhausted after what seemed like the longest trip ever, even though your business trips to San Francisco were nothing out of the ordinary. 

Of course, a frantic phone call from Wayne Munson is always sure to shake things up. 

The elder Munson man is typically even-tempered and cool as a cucumber. So when your hotel room phone rang and he was on the other end of the line, breathlessly explaining that Eddie had fallen off of a ladder and was unable to move, you’d gotten a ticket for the first flight back to Indiana.

“He was helpin’ hang up lights for the Christmas fair downtown, and there was a big gust of wind…took him right down. Landed on his tailbone,” Wayne rushed, choking up at the memory. “We just got him to the hospital, and they’re taking him in for x-rays. If he shattered it, he’ll need emergency surgery.”

You’d assured him that you were on your way home, already haphazardly throwing clothes into your suitcase. Between inclement weather and holiday airport busyness, it had taken you forever to be put on a plane. Eight hours later, including a layover at O’Hare and nearly an hour cab ride, you’d finally made it.

Wayne is standing outside the room, gnawing on his thumbnail anxiously. If smoking in hospitals was still allowed, he’d be halfway through a carton at this point.

“Never a dull moment when you’re a Munson, is there, darlin’?” He tries to joke, but the catch in his voice weakens his attempt at humor. You pull him in for a hug, and neither of you let go for a long time. “He’s out of surgery now,” Wayne continues. “He fractured his tailbone, and the doc said he’ll need physical therapy after he starts to heal up a bit.”

“He didn’t…did he hit his head?” you ask quietly, tears brimming in your own eyes. You’d been in fight-or-flight mode, nerves on edge this entire time, and now that you were here, you were finally able to process everything that happened.

“No, thank God,” Wayne answers, and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “That boy can’t afford to lose any more brain cells.” He lets out a terse chuckle.  

You bite your lip nervously. “Is it okay if I go in and see him?”

‘’Course.” Wayne gestures towards the door. You step in, looking at your sleeping husband laying in the bed. He’s hooked up to various beeping machines, and it tugs at your heartstrings to see him so vulnerable.

“Hey, baby,” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. He stirs for a moment before falling back to sleep. “I’m here whenever you wake up, okay?”

“Mmm,” Eddie’s big brown eyes flutter open, and he manages a small smile. “Hi, my love,” he murmurs. Out of habit, he tries to sit up, and he winces with pain. “Shit. Well, that hurts like hell. Jesus H. Christ.”

You brush a lock of curly hair out of his eyes. “Don’t push yourself, Eds. I can help you sit up.” You bring your arms under his, supporting him as he props himself up. “Anything you need, I’m on it.”

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Anything?”

“Edward Munson, are you seriously asking for a blowjob right now?” You roll your eyes.

He pouts. “Hand stuff?”

“Eddie.”

“Fine,” he laments, patting the spot next to him on the bed. Before he can continue, a cough rattles his whole body, and he grimaces. 

You instinctively jump up. “Let me get you some water,” you say. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Stay with me, baby. I’ll just ask one of the nurses.” He pushes a red button next to him. “Someone should be in in a few minutes.”

You nod and sit back down. “So,” you grin, “I heard you got beat up by a gust of wind.”

“Dammit, Wayne!” Eddie groans, but his smile matches yours. “I wanted to tell people that I was wrestling an alligator.”

“Ah, yes,” you giggle. “Very realistic, given Indiana’s burgeoning alligator population.”

Eddie pushes the button again with a bit more force this time. “Usually they come running,” he mutters. “Must be jealous that my hot wife is here.”  He puckers his lips, and you kiss them until you feel him smile. “Shit, I didn’t even ask how your trip was. Did you do a lot of Important Person things? Show all those limp-dick CEOs what a badass you are?”

You swat at him playfully, careful of his wounds. “I didn’t realize how painfully boring work trips are when you can’t drink. But the munchkin made sure I fulfilled all of my food cravings.” 

Eddie perks up at that, bringing his hand to the slight swell of your belly and talking to his unborn baby. “Yeah, bub? You took your mom on a culinary tour of San Francisco?” He looks up at you with a frown. “I think he’s ignoring me.”

“He’s just mad because you’re stealing all of the attention from him,” you tease, watching Eddie page the nurses for a third time. “Babe, let me just get you some water.”

“No, ish fine,” he slurs, pressing the red button again and again, or at least trying to—his hand keeps slipping. “Thas’ why they get paid the big bucks.”

You cock your brow. “Are you okay?”

“Never better, cutie patootie,” he giggles, reaching to poke your nose before giving up and booping the air. “Hey, you know what?”

“What?”

“No,” he whines, “‘m askin’ you.” He bursts into a fit of giggles, stopping abruptly when the pain sets in. “Gotta stop makin’ me laugh. You’re too funny, honey. My funny bunny honey.”

“I didn’t say anything…” you muse. Was Wayne sure that he hadn’t sustained any head injuries? Panic sets in as you imagine every possible horrible scenario. A nurse walks down the hallway, and you flag her down before she passes the room. 

“I think there’s something wrong,” you blurt out. “He’s slurring his words, and he’s all confused—”

“Yeah, and I’ve been tryin’ to get a glass of water but no one’s comin’!” Eddie punctuates the last three words with more attempted button-pushing. “This service is terrible!”

The nurse massages the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Mr. Munson,” she explains calmly, “the green button is our call button. You’ve been pressing the morphine button.” As though she can read your mind, she turns to you and says, “don’t worry; there’s a limit. He won’t overdose.”

Relief courses through your body for the second time today. “Thank you,” you tell her, catching your breath. 

“Of course.” She smiles and looks back at your husband, who is currently staring into space. “Get some rest, Mr. Munson. You certainly need it.” 

Eddie laughs hysterically as she leaves. “She was totally flirting with me,” he announces to no one in particular, a dopey grin plastered to his face. “Sorry you had to see that. ‘M just irr-sistable.”

“Sure are.” You pat his head gingerly. “Go sleep, Eds. I love you.”

“Whoa, let’s not rush into things, baby,” he says, already drifting off. You chuckle as you walk out the door. 

“All good?” Wayne asks, holding out a bag of potato chips from the vending machine. 

You take a chip and nod. “Yup. Oh, except that he mixed up the call and morphine buttons, so he’s higher than a kite.”

“This is the man you chose to be the father of your child?” Wayne teases, popping another chip in his mouth. 

“Yeah, well, we just won’t have him teach the baby his colors.”

--

#bug's 2k celebration #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

[georgiapeach30513]

When I Hear Your Name

Summary:  You should have never left.  Things were perfect.

Pairings:  Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit, dark, explicit language, explicit sexual content, depictions of PTSD, kidnapping, somnophilia, non con/dub con, degradation, bondage, fingering, squirting, creampie, pussy plug, breeding kink, holding people captive, cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.7K

Steve Rogers Masterlist

A/N:  My entry for @the-slumberparty Week 1 Challenge.  My random generator theme was ‘Descent into Madness’ and the setting was ‘Military’.  

Steve Rogers was a lot of things; he was strong, charismatic, a natural leader, righteous, handsome, sweet, and stubborn.  He was different before he went off to war.  He was always about making you giggle.  Holding you tight when you got scared.  His sweet lips nipping at every inch of your skin.  His body had yours memorized.

Things were harder when he came back.  There was this odd quality about him.  He wasn’t mean, he was just…distant.  It was like he was living from afar.  Never completely present with you.  He didn’t talk to you.  Barely looked at you.  He was just there taking up space.

Once upon a time he showered you with gifts.  Even if you didn’t have much, Steve managed to get that diamond bracelet that you had eyed for years.  Surprised you with his own homemade bouquets of flowers.  It became a weekly thing to see these adorable, if not crudely put together, flowers.  He tried, and that’s all you cared about.  Even would hand deliver them.

His romance was gone, as was his will to enjoy life.  There was no passion behind his actions.  He was but a meat suit with little to no emotions.  No excitement, no love, no passion.  It was infuriating.  It was worse seeing Steve like that.  You couldn’t explain it.  Couldn’t make sense out of it.  And you felt yourself losing your joy everyday.  

You tried getting him the help he needed.  Tried to be there for him, but it wasn’t enough.  

“Moonbeam,” Bucky whispered in your ear as the two of you watched a blank Steve staring up at the ceiling, “you don’t deserve this.”

“But…I love him,” you look up at Bucky, and only then does Steve stir.  His eyes glaring straight at his best friend.  “He doesn’t deserve this either.  Bucky, what am I supposed to do?  He barely eats or sleeps.  Won’t go to therapy.  Won’t talk to me.  I want our life back.”

“Have you ever thought it wasn’t coming back?” Steve sits up in the bed, and you flinch, taking a step towards him.

Bringing your hand to his cheek, he sighs, leaning more into it.  This was proof he was still in there.  He always leaned into your touch.  You pet around his face, giving him a tearful smile when he looks up at you.  Opening his mouth, but no words came out.  It was heartbreaking to see this great man become a ghost of his former self.  No smiles were ever present on his beautiful face.  He was lost.

“Moonbeam,” Bucky says again when you turn to leave.  Steve’s feet bounced his legs around, but you couldn’t do it anymore.  It was eating away at your soul.  Your hope was nearly dwindled down to nothing.  

“Moonbeam?” Bucky races out to grab your arm, “Where are you going?”

“Back home, Buck.  I can’t,” you cry up at him, giving him a tight hug.  Blind to your boyfriend’s darkened eyes peering at the two of you.  “I tried.  He’s never coming back is he?”

“I don’t have an answer for that.”

“I hope he does.  I hope he finds himself.  But I can’t do this.  I can’t see him like this anymore,” giving him a kiss to his cheek, you leave everything behind.  You didn’t need a reminder of how happy your life was.  How many dreams you and Steve had made come true, and how many you were still waiting on.  You wiped your hands clean, and it was the hardest thing you had ever done.

“What did you do?” Steve screams as he races towards Bucky.  “She left me, and it’s all your fault!” He knocks Bucky onto the floor, crawling over him to slam his head into the floor over and over again.  “You did this!”

“You did this, Steve!  She wants you, and you won’t fix it!”

“I can’t.”

——

“You got another package,” the girl at the front desk snips, smacking her gum, feigning annoyance.  “You know the boss is mad about all these personal deliveries.”

“They’re not personal when I don’t know who’s sending them,” opening the box, you gasp at the forever roses that were supposed to keep for over a year, and one in the center was a pure gold rose.  

‘I’ll love you until the last rose dies,’ ugh, so cliche.  If this was for you, he didn’t know you at all.

“You have no idea who’s sending you these,” she smacks her gum right beside you, and you have to silently count to ten.

“Nope.  Not even dating.  Probably someone gave them the wrong place of work.  Throw it away,” you didn’t care about gifts anymore anyways.  You didn’t care about love or happily ever after.  You cared about peace, and yourself.  You vowed to never fall in love again.  And you wouldn’t

“Some man just spent hundreds of dollars and you think he doesn’t know who you are?”

“Nope.  Clearly a mistake.”

“Your name is on the address,” giving you an incredulous look.  She believed you were bullshitting her and everyone in this office.  “No man is going to go out of his way to do this, along with flowers every Friday, if he wasn’t sure it was you.”

“What?” You stop in your tracks, turning back to look at her.  “What did you say?”

“You get flowers sent to you every Friday,” she blows a giant bubble with her gum, and you march back to the box, grabbing it up.  “So you know who sent them?”

“Nope,” you lie.  It wouldn’t be Steve.  This was a cruel joke.  You hadn’t heard from Steve in a few years.  These weren’t hand delivered like Steve did it.  They had it all wrong.  

You go out the back door, and slam the box into the garbage.  Your chest heaves with frustration.  “God, I can’t get away from him.”

“Because you weren’t meant to,” before you can scream, someone’s thick hand has been placed around your mouth as he drags you into a van.  You try kicking and screaming.  Try for anyone to get your attention, but it was useless.  

“Any second now,” your assailant grunts as your vision goes blurry.  “There ya go,” he hums, watching your eyes flutter close.  “Sweet dreams, Moonbeam.”

——

Your eyes pop open quickly, as you blink your vision back into view.  Tugging at your arms above your head, and your feet, but you were not going anywhere.  Hands tied above your head, while your legs were spread eagle.  Taking a deep breath to keep from crying, you look around.  

“Welcome home, darling,” Steve says sweetly, walking into the bedroom with a glass of water.  “I worried that you weren’t going to wake up.  It had been too long.  Your pulse was still steady.  You must have needed that extra bit of sleep.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” Your voice was hoarse, like you had been screaming.  “Why am I naked?”

“Why are you asking questions?  You’re home, you should be happy.  Look, I’m talking to you again.  I tried sending you flowers, you didn’t thank me.  I had plans to hold you while we walked on the beach and talk for hours, but you didn’t call.  Had this big night planned for a romantic dinner, and then to take you dancing, but…yeah, you didn’t reach out to me.  So, I had to do what I had to do.  We’ve traded diamond bracelets for leather cuffs,” he gives the binds on your wrist a little tap.

“And they look so pretty on you.  Water?” You shake your head no, but he lowers a straw to you anyways.  “I suggest you drink some water.  You’re tired,” with his free hand he slaps at your core, chuckling when you yip.  

“What have you done?”

“You took too long to wake up.  I wanted what you promised was mine,” you cock up your eyebrow, needing him to go on, “You said that your pussy belonged to me.  So I took it.”

“You fucked me while I slept?” You growl up at him.  Disgusted that this was the man you had once loved.

“Yeah,” he answers easily.  “It’s my pussy.  It was just glistening with your juices.  If you weren’t turned on why were you so fucking wet?  Face it, Moonbeam, that cunt was made for me.  So I gave her what she wanted.  You needed a good hard fucking.  You were pitiful.  You still say my name in your sleep, too.  You know that?”

“Who was driving the van?”

“Hmm?” Steve smiles, looking down the expanse of your body.  Cupping your mound, moaning at the feeling of you, “Still wet.  You’re a slut for me, you know?” His hand slides up and down your split, and you try not to react, but damn if it didn’t feel good.  He knew your body.  Steve studied your body like he was being graded, this didn’t change.

“Who was driving the van?  There was someone else.  Was it Bucky?” You croak, letting a desperate mewl rise up out of your chest.  

“Why do you care so much about fucking Bucky?”

“I didn’t say anything about fucking Bucky.  I asked who was driving the fucking van,” Bucky was a sore subject for him.  His hand moves a bit faster.  A bit too hard on your sensitive nub.  “Steve,” you whine, anything had to be better than this.  “Steve, I wanna feel you.”

“No, you don’t.  You’re asking about Bucky.”

“No.  I…uh…I just wanted to know who was with you.  But…all I want right now is you.  I forgot what you felt like, and,” you bite at your lip as the pleasure starts to build up.  Getting a devilish smile from Steve.  He slows down his motions more, and you whimper out his name.  “Steve, I can’t remember.”

“I’ll make sure you remember.  I’ll make sure you feel me for a month.  You’ll take a step and be so sore that you’ll know my cock was buried so deep in your greedy little cunt.”

“Yes!  Yes, that’s…that’s exactly what I want.  Steve,” you breathlessly answer when he takes off his shirt.  Silver scars crisscross over his arm, and you can’t stop staring at the odd pattern of them.  

“Steve,” moaning out his name when he jerks his pants down.  His cock springing free, looking just as godlike as him.  Dripping of precum, and he crawls in between your legs.  Rubbing his tip through your arousal before slapping his cock over your clit.  “Steve!”

He continues playing with you, until strings of sticky arousal connect the two of you, and you jerk at your cuffs, needing to feel him.  “Yeah, you get forced to take whatever I give you,” he laughs as you try to bring your thighs together.  “Pathetic.  Trying to deny yourself an orgasm,” he tsks at you, changing to slapping you with his hand.

The sharpness was sending euphoria that you had never felt through every inch of your body.  Flowing through you like your blood.  Continuing until you were screaming out his name, and he crams two fingers into your tight channel.  Curling his fingers as he stabs into you.  There was no time to rest as he chases another high for you.

Your cunt was making the most vulgar squelching sounds that made his eyes roll into the back of his head.  The noise echoing through the rest of the house, and Steve hoped he heard.  “Just.  Let.  Go,” he demands, letting his calloused fingers hit over a sensitive spot in your core.  

“It’s…it’s….there she fucking is!” Steve screams as you squirt onto his chest.  Your juices being catapulted to your stomach, and still he didn’t stop.  “One more time.  Then I’ll give you what you need.  Go…on,” he pulls his hand out while you soak his thigh.

At lightning speed he had his cock driving into you.  Hips thrusting his fat cock in your warmth.  You were already speaking in tongues.  Head tilted back as you worshiped at the altar of Steven Grant Rogers.  My god, he was hitting every single spot that you had.  This wasn't sweet love making.  This was an urgent need to have you say his name like a prayer screaming off your lips.  A deep desire to destroy you, break you, so that you would never leave him again.

More arousal spews out from around his length as you clench down.  Your walls missed him.  And they were hugging him tightly.  So tight you start to see stars.  “Don’t you give out on me.  I missed your pretty eyes!  Missed the way you looked when you were taking my cock.  Look at you…right where you were made to be, taking my cock.  My little sexdoll.  It’s what you were designed for, huh?”

You give him a head nod, trying to catch your breath.  It was too much.  “I told you to drink your water.  Maybe next time you’ll listen.  Molded to my cock.  Gonna keep you in here so I can play with you whenever I want, Moonbeam.  I do miss the way you scratched down my back though. Just like you’re doing with your hands.”

It was true, you had your hands in a fist so tight, your nails had brought blood to your palms.  “Fuck,” Steve growls, railing into you harder.  “One day, when you don’t try to leave me, I’ll let you ride on top of me.  Okay?  Let that pretty little ass ride on my dick.”

“Steve!”

“Yeah, I know.  I know, you missed me just as much as your pussy.  I mean, my pussy.  She was always mine, wasn’t she?”

“Yes!  Yes!  Yes!” You scream out again as he drives into you hard.  Making your body jump up the bed.  You felt him in your throat, and you wanted more.  “Steve!”

“I know!  Right…there!” One more final thrust has you both coming hard.  Your creams mix together as Steve tries to catch his breath.  “Beautiful.  Now,” he groans, pulling out of you.  His hand shoves up against your ruined cunt and he reaches over to the bedside drawer, grabbing a plug that he shoves into your mouth.

“This is extra important,” he drags it down your body before removing his hand, and pushing it into your sex.  “There, that will keep that in there while I take care of something.  When you have my child, you’ll never want to leave.  We’ll become a family again.”

He kisses you hard on the lips before leaving you in a state of partially awake, and halfway asleep.  Walking down to the basement where he sees the chair, and two angry glowing eyes.  “See?  I told you she wanted me.  Now, I’m going to take your muzzle off and feed you.  When she stays freely, I’ll let you go.  Hey!” He shouts when Bucky snaps his teeth at him.

“Is that anyway to treat me?  I know you two had something going on.  This is to make sure you never think about fucking Moonbeam again.”

“It’s an expression.  I didn’t mean I wanted to fuck her.”

“Liar!” Steve shouts, clenching his fists together.  “She even said fucking Bucky.”

“I’ve never touched her!”

“Eh!” Steve holds up a glass of water with a straw, “Comply, soldier.  Quit fighting it.”

“You’ve gone fucking mad, Steve.  Let her help you.”

“I am,” Steve’s mouth turns up into a creepy smile as he puts the straw to Bucky’s mouth, “She’s going to give me babies.  I have my cum waiting in her snatch right now.  She’ll never leave.  And neither will you.  Not until you comply,” there was no use.  Bucky knew that Steve would keep him here until he gave him what he wanted.  It was over.

“Steve!” You scream from upstairs.  “Steve, please, don’t keep me here!  My parents have…they have…Steve!  I have somebody who needs me,” Steve slams the glass on the ground, knocking Bucky’s chair over.

“What was it that you didn’t do again?”

“I didn’t know, Steve!  I didn’t know!” Setting him back up right, Steve stomps up the stairs.  “Steve, let her go!  Steve!” Was the last thing Steve listened to before slamming the door closed, leaving Bucky to wonder, and Steve to brood, while you prayed you could get out of this.  Maybe.  At least this time you had a reason to fight, and a bigger reason to leave.  He could never break you.

Next

Masterlist

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[fuctacles]

Henderson's-brother-centered misadventures continue [Part IV]

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III]

Eddie screamed. Then, he screamed some more. Then, he got hit with a teddy bear, which bounced off into the floor, barely disturbing his mane of hair.

“You get a drop of spit on my pillow, and you’re washing all my sheets!”

He groaned, like a wounded animal. If animals could be wounded by their best friend’s disloyalty.

“No, dude! You can scream into your own fucking pillow! We can jam if you need, smoke or steal a beer, hell, I can even listen to you. But don’t just come here to stink my room with-” Gareth made a flapping motion in Eddie’s general direction. “Whatever this is.”

Eddie groaned louder before finally rolling onto his back.

“I fucking hate him.”

“I was hoping you’d choose jamming,” Gareth sighed. He threw his leg over his chair and leaned on the back of it. “You mean Big Bro Henderson?”

“Who else?” Eddie threw his hands up into the ceiling. His friend barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “He’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met!”

“Good thing you can’t meet yourself, then.”

Eddie glared at him, but from this angle, it gave him a double chin which severely decreased the look’s efficiency.

“You calling me annoying?”

“Yes.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘lively’. Or ‘charismatic’! Or, or, ‘non-conforming’!”

“No, I’m pretty sure ‘annoying’ is the word. Also, ‘dramatic’.”

Eddie glared again, but since his position has not changed so hasn’t its lack of impact.

“How dare you,” he seethed. Gareth completely ignored it.

“So, what did he do this time? Give you more cookies?”

“No!” He had regretted the decision to tell him about it as soon as it left his mouth, but it was out there now. Well, the price of the blackmail material was listening to it first. “He just…” Eddie trailed off, realizing what he was about to say. ‘He let me sit in his lap for the whole length of Karate Kid’ was so much harder to explain than ‘he gave me an extra cookie for my good work.’ He scrambled to find a better approach. 

“So he’s like a therapy dog,” he started, because painting the scene is important.

“What.”

Wrong approach.

“Okay, so I’ve found out he has some issues, something to do with the Starcourt fire, I think? You know nothing of it, by the way, I probably shouldn't know about it. Henderson, well, the little one, just has a big mouth.”

“And so do you. By telling me,” his friend pointed out.

“Emerson, this isn’t about you,” Eddie scolded him. “So he needs extra physical contact or something. And he might have um…” Wrong turn again. “Engaged me in it?”

“Ok, hold on,” Gareth dropped his forehead on the edge of the chair’s back and rubbed his temples. “What do you mean by that? Because I know it’s not as weird as you make it sound.”

Eddie crossed his arms, which looked extra stupid in his horizontal position. He tapped his socked foot against the mattress.

“We were watching Karate Kid, and the couch wasn’t big enough for four people. Nobody else wanted to sit in his lap and I thought it would be, you know, funny, to offer. And he just said ‘okay’, and did it!” His arms flew up into the air again.

Gareth lifted his head.

“So you sat in his lap.”

“He put me in his lap.”

“Dude, you throw your legs all over me when we watch a movie!”

“Yeah, but that’s different!”

“How?”

“Because we’re friends! We play together and shit!”

Gareth scrunched his nose because while he knew of the wisdom his friend possessed (very selective and rarely occurring in the daylight), admitting him right was painful because the cockiness he possessed was probably far greater.

“Well, maybe he’s giving you signs he wants to be friends?”

Eddie snorted.

"No way. Not possible. No."

"And why is that?" Gareth raised an eyebrow at the adamant negation.

"I'm his younger brother's friend-"

"Who's his age."

"-And we like different things. I'm a freak, I like metal and D&D!"

"So does Dustin, and they get along well."

"They are brothers!" 

"Well, I actually hate my sister, it’s not a rule."

Eddie groaned.

"I don't know," he ended up saying, just to voice his internal frustration. At least he was facing the ceiling now and not Gareth's pillow.

He hummed, considering his friend, trying to understand his problem, to even locate it.

"Okay, so you don't like that he's nice?"

"Yes."

"... You want him to be mean?"

"... Yes? Maybe?"

Gareth hit his head against the chair. 

"This whole conversation is lost on me."

When he looked up he met Eddie's eyes, a storm brewing behind them.

"I don't want to like him. But he makes it hard not to because he's so nice."

‘He treats me like I'm normal, like his equal’, went unspoken but Gareth could hear it anyway. It was time to end the questions for the day because getting any deeper into his friend's psyche could trap him like quicksand. 

"And then I go to apologize and end up talking about BDSM of all things!"

"Nope!" Gareth straightened up and hopped out of his chair. "We're going to the garage, so I can't hear you over the drums."

"What a best friend you are," Eddie grumbled but rolled off the bed regardless. He was secretly glad for an excuse to stop talking about Henderson because he started getting lost in his thoughts and feelings himself.

The next time he sees Steve, he doesn’t make it any easier. They see each other only in passing, and the older brother doesn’t give him more than a weak smile and a "Hi, Eddie. Dustin's upstairs," before leaving.

Eddie walks up to his friend's room thoroughly confused. 

"What was that about?" he asks instead of a greeting. He never greets his friends properly these days, but there are more important things like ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s.

"What was what about?"

"Steve," Eddie frowns like it explains everything. And apparently, it does.

"I think he's still upset after last time."

Eddie blinks.

"I said I was sorry!"

Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Sorry doesn't solve everything. It's like a," he snaps his fingers looking for a good comparison. "Like one of the spell components. It's not gonna work without all of them."

Guess he is casting Charm Person after all.

"Okay, but like. What are the other components?"

Dustin just shrugs.

"Hell if I know."

Eddie was burdened with the most unhelpful friends. 

"What do you do when you upset him?"

Dustin's first instinct is to protest, probably point out what a great little brother he is, but one stern look from Eddie makes him shut his mouth and reconsider his words.

"Well, if I made him upset, I'd help him with dinner, make him coffee or tea, pick a movie I know he'd like. Help out with chores, mostly. He does too much by himself." The frown on his face is deep like the mystery of Steve's adoption and Eddie mirrors it.

"This sounds all great when you're brothers, but I'm not a Henderson, how am I supposed to pull that off?

"You helped with dinner once, you could do it again," 

Eddie sighs, long and suffering.

"I guess…"

"Great! Steve has left to get groceries and is making dinner later, I'm sure he'll appreciate the help!" He grins, knowing full well he just backed his friend into a corner.

Eddie sputters when he realizes that. 

“What? Today?”

“No better time than the present.” Dustin shrugs smugly, like it was a universal law they can’t help but follow.

Eddie bristles, because, yeah, true, but…

“I'm not mentally prepared," he complains. 

"For what?" Dustin raises his brows in this annoying way of his. "Cooking?"

"You ate my mac and cheese, you understand the severity of the situation!" he yells, accusingly pointing a finger at him.

"Ate is a big word, I spat it out. And calling it mac and cheese is also a big word."

"Exactly!" Usually Eddie didn't like his abilities slandered like that but on the rare occasion when it served his purpose… 

"Steve's first casserole was also inedible," Dustin shrugs and Eddie tries to picture Mr. Perfect Housewife fucking up a dish. "You have about an hour to mentally prepare before he's back though. You can spend it finishing your readings."

Ah, right. The mundane purpose of his visit was schoolwork.

Eddie groans. He can only hope the tragic stories of holocaust victims will set him in the right mind for cooking with Steve.

They don’t. He's heavily unprepared for the confrontation when they're running down the stairs to help with the bags. 

When Steve's instructing them which things he needs and which can be put away, Dustin elbows his friend in the ribs, hard. He hisses in pain, attracting Steve's attention.

"You staying for dinner?" he asks before Eddie can say anything. 

"Uh, if I can help with it, then yeah," he says, feeling Dustin’s annoying beady eyes on himself.

Steve frowns at him.

"You don't have to do that, I’ve told you before."

"Yeah, but I'm done with my work for today," Eddie adds under the menacing gaze. "And my cooking skills need some guidance. Wayne is too old to stomach my food, he can't risk another food poisoning,” he babbles, earning himself a snort from Steve. 

“Okay, if it's that bad,” he agrees finally,  the smile Eddie has gotten used to once again on his face. "But you'll be under strict supervision."

"Of course!"

"Okay, you already got yourself a kitchen slave, so I can go finish my work," Dustin speaks up before promptly disappearing, only the sound of his rushed retreating steps left.

"Guess we're alone then," Steve comments, giving Eddie an odd look. He thought he was used to those but Steve's were always hard to decipher. Not the exact kind he usually got.

He clears his throat to dislodge the weird feeling clogging it up.

"So, what are we cooking today?"

Steve hums, looking at the ingredients before him.

"You ever cooked soup?"

"Uh, I assume you don't mean the instant kind?"

Steve makes a disgusted face, fake gags for a good measure too.

"Soup it is then. It's getting colder, and I'm sure Wayne would appreciate it," he says, eyeing Eddie questioningly, and this one he deciphers easily.

"My uncle,” he explains. "I live with him."

To his surprise, Steve smiles warmly.

"Wanna make some extra you can heat up for him?"

"That's-" Eddie's taken aback, which doesn't happen to him often. "That would be very nice, thank you."

"It’s nothing. He should know his nephew is spending his time productively."

"I'm always productive," he mutters back a complete lie. But he's been trying, okay?

"I know," Steve says, surprising him again. "Maybe I want to get on your uncle's good side too."

Eddie doesn't ask why. Doesn't want to know. Doesn't speculate. Just leaves it be, bugging him for the time being.

"I was thinking fritters too? Since they're easy to heat up later."

Eddie nods, watching him sort through the vegetables.

"Whatever you say, chef."

Steve instructs him through the soup preparations first, explaining it needs more time to cook. 

“I hope you don’t mind veggie broth. El didn’t like chicken and we kinda got used to it. Also, it’s cheaper,” he says, watching Eddie pour water over the vegetables arranged in the pot. 

He puts the pot on the burner and looks up.

"Who's El?"

"Dustin's friend. She moved to California though," Steve answers with a frown.

"That's a bit of a drive."

"Yeah," Steve scrunches his nose, then looks back into the pot, before reaching for a box of seasoning.

"Ok, now for the fun part."

Eddie has no idea how seasoning a pot of vegetable water can be fun, but he's not about to argue. He follows instructions and marvels at the amount of weird plants that could be added to food. 

"I feel like a witch," he whispers, tossing dried herbs into his cauldron.

Steve chuckles.

"You kinda look like one."

Eddie side-eyes him from his position over the pot.

"I hope that's a compliment."

"Oh, it is," Steve says in a weird voice and Eddie is too afraid to look at him. He flips through the seasoning packets instead, reading unfamiliar names.

"Okay, so this needs a couple of hours to cook, you'll know when it starts getting together from the smell. Then we'll blanche the onions and garlic, add the tomatoes, blend it all, and it's done. Now we can work on the fritters. Have you done them before?"

Eddie thinks about it for a moment.

"I saw my uncle make them."

"Potato ones?"

"Uh, yeah? Are there more options?" he asks, eyebrows drawn together.

"Apparently, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. “A fritter is technically anything you can grate, slap together and fry in a pancake-ish shape."

"Huh. I've learned so much today already."

Steve laughs. 

"So, what do you want in the fritters?" he asks and Eddie is ridiculously giddy about having a choice.

"Can we put meat in them?"

"Yeah, I've made them with bacon before."

Eddie's eyes sparkle.

"Potatoes with bacon and cheese?"

"Holy shit,” Steve groans. “Claudia's gonna kill us, but it sounds so good." He ponders on it for a moment. "We could add corn to pretend there are vegetables in them."

"Ketchup is a vegetable," Eddie points out and Steve bristles. 

"We're not eating them with ketchup!" he protests. "But… we could use some of the tomatoes to make a sauce."

Eddie never thought cooking could be this fun.

"Yesss!"

"You're way more excited than I thought you'd be," Steve observes, grabbing the potatoes to wash.

"I'm a growing boy, of course I'm excited about food. Besides, we're like two alchemists; mixing up stuff to make other stuff."

Steve laughs again.

"Are those the guys who tried turning metals into gold?"

"Precisely!"

He's tasked with peeling the potatoes while Steve puts bacon in the oven. He’s  never good at it, and he huffs angrily when Steve joins him and gets through three potatoes while he peels one. What's worse, he can see him watching and his fingers twitching.

"Okay, I can see you itching to correct me. Just do it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah man, unless you have some disease I could catch, I'll be fine."

Steve winces and Eddie has a lightning-fast memory of a rumour that gays spread a deadly disease. But Steve isn't gay, probably, and it's just a rumour.

Steve is still haste when he rearranges his fingers on the peeler and takes his hand away like touching him burns.

Eddie frowns. Well, that's not gonna cut it.

"Like this?" he asks, making a motion he knows is wrong.

"No, like-" Steve reaches out and hesitates. 

"I don't have cooties, come on."

Steve presses his lips together and wraps his hand around his. He has to move closer too, crowding Eddie's side. 

"Like this," he says, whispers really, pushing his hand in the right motion.

This suddenly feels more obscene than it is, but Eddie’s half tempted to push it further.

"Your hands are weirdly soft. Do you steal Robin's hand cream?" he asks instead.

Steve huffs at the backhanded compliment and retraces his soft, big hands.

"No, I have my own."

"Hmm." Eddie cocks his head, looking him up and down. "Should have guessed."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Steve asks with a frown, but he can tell the anger is played up. 

"Nothing," Eddie shrugs. "You just look like someone taking care of himself." 

Steve keeps looking at him like he is not sure if he should be offended or not so Eddie helps him out by rolling his eyes. 

“Don't worry, I judge you more for your music than your hygiene.”

“Of course,” Steve huffs. “You wouldn't know much about hygiene anyway, would you?” he teases with a smirk.

Eddie gasps.

“Are you implying trailer trash don't clean themselves?” he asks, eyes wide and offended. 

“What? No!” The smile vanishes instantly from his face. “Of course not!” Steve scrambles to defend himself. But then, he cocks his hip and crosses his arms.

“You know what? No. I stand by it. Your hair needs proper care, not whatever 3 in 1 you treat it with,” he says. 

“5 in 1,” Eddie corrects him smugly. 

“Five?”

“Hair, body, face, beard and ass,” he lists on his fingers, earning himself a look of disgust from Steve. 

“For that alone, you’re washing your hands again.”

Eddie knows he doesn't have to, but complies anyway. Whatever makes the big Henderson happy. And consecutively, the little Henderson. And somehow, Eddie himself.

By the time the sun starts setting, he’s gained some valuable culinary knowledge, including the fact that as a cook, he gets to taste the dishes all the time. His growing boy tummy is satiated with a stolen strip of bacon and one of the test fritters he’s munching on, when they hear the door unlock.

“I’m home!” a woman’s voice calls out. Eddie freezes.

“We’re just finishing dinner!” Steve calls back while the man next to him shrinks on himself, looking up at him and wondering why he isn’t being pushed into a closet like a secret paramour. 

“Your mom is here?!” he seethes through his teeth, eyes jumping from Steve to the door. 

“Well, yeah?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “She lives here?” 

“But why am I here?!”

Was Steve this stupid or did he not grasp the severity of the situation?

“You’re cooking? Staying for dinner? Studying? The fuck do you mean man?” he answers, more or less matching his volume.

“Mothers hate me!” Eddie reminds him helpfully, making Steve only roll his eyes with a huff.

“Claudia likes you.”

“She never saw me,” he reminds him. Because as soon as any of the suburban moms caught a whiff of his metal vest, his dark clothes and long hair, he felt disgusted eyes on his back. 

And when the Satanist drug dealer rumours reach them? Things only get worse. 

“Dude-”

“Oh, hi boys!” A tired-looking blond woman enters the kitchen. Her smile doesn’t waver despite Eddie’s presence, meaning she must have seen some shit in her life. “You didn’t tell me we’ll have a guest today.”

Steve steps in before he can put his foot in his mouth, laying his big warm hand on his shoulder. 

“Eddie finished his work early and wanted to help in the kitchen. Hope that’s alright.”

At the mere thought it wouldn’t be, Eddie’s stomach twisted. 

“Of course! The more, the merrier!” Claudia smiled, still seemingly genuine, before stepping closer and extending her hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Eddie. I’ve heard a lot about you from my boys.”

Steve’s hand is still on him squeezing minutely to remind him to shake Claudia’s hand.

“Likewise.” He smiles to his best ability, unable to remember the last time he was friendly with someone's parents. Except Gareth's, maybe.

“What did boys make?” she asks, sniffing the air and trying to peek over his shoulder.

“Tomato soup, like you asked, and some fritters.”

“With veggies, I hope?” She squints at her oldest (newest?) son.

“There’s corn in them, and we made a tomato sauce.” He smiled brightly and Eddie could tell he was happy to play the good kid role. 

“Good. I’m gonna change and get back to you,” she says before disappearing upstairs, probably to harass the younger Henderson now. 

“Why was she so nice?” Eddie muses, half to Steve, half to himself, half to the universe in general. Wait, that's three halves. Well, he didn’t fail school because of his great math skills.

“She's always nice.” Steve steps away to work on the next batch of fritters.

“Not to me! Mothers hate me! I bet she’s just pretending but as soon as I disappear, you're gonna hear all about it!”

“Hey!” Steve turns back towards him, frowning. And uh-oh, he upset him again. On his reverse-upset mission. “Claudia’s not some uptight bitch like that. She likes all our friends and you're not an exception. Just because you dress differently isn’t gonna ban you from the house or get us in trouble.” He knocks him on the head for good measure. “You’re safe here.”

“Okay,” Eddie simply says, taken aback. Being welcomed somewhere was a feeling he still had to process.

“We're safe here,” was a soft addition he almost missed over his own loud thoughts but made him even more curious about Steve himself. 

User tags: @i-have-three-feelings @mblogs @awkwardgravity1 @imacowboy3 @just-a-tiny-void @clumsiluni @shotgunhallelujah @halfadoginatank @carlprocastinator1000 @irregular-child

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #mine #ff #st #stranger things 4 #steddie fanfiction #steve henderson #the hendersons

[ghostsy]

A Spotted Mind

WARNINGS: yandere, abuse of power, possessiveness, nsfw, smut, non-consensual implications, implied kidnapping

A/N: i'm not sure how i feel about this, but it took me longer than it should've, so i'm posting it. ^^

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! SHINSO HITOSHI X READER

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, I know it isn’t exactly fair, but–”

“No. I mean, I don’t understand.” Calloused hands ran through purple locks, pulling, tugging, anything to alleviate the building frustration. 

“Years. Years risking my life, years saving lives, years doing everything a hero is supposed to fucking do.” There was a humourless laugh cutting through the words.

This couldn’t be fucking happening. He started pacing, hands unsure, clenching and unclenching their fists, rubbing down his face.

“And where does that get me? Back in elementary school apparently, where everyone’s scared of the freak with the villain’s quirk.” His eyes hardened, flashing with memories he thought he’d long buried, fears he had long killed. 

“Stop.” His former mentor’s voice, monotonous as ever, made him pause; he turned to meet his eyes–well eye and eye patch. “Those are the terms, like it or not. And while I, personally, err on the side of not, that won’t get us anywhere.”

“So what? I don’t have any choice? Let the Hero Commission fuck about with my life all they want, or give up my hero license? You can’t be serious.”

The black haired man sighed, “Things are a little different than in my day, kid. Even underground heroes have to appeal to the public now–”

He scoffed, “I’d hardly say I’m the most unlikeable hero. Or did they happen to forget the guy who explodes buildings and yells at reporters like it’s a sport? Oh, but he’s number two, and makes tween girls wet, so fuck me, I guess.”

“You can sit here throwing a pity party for yourself, if that’s what you want. But you have a choice to make: give up the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve, the dream you’ve bled for, the dream people have died for…” Uncrossing his arms, his mentor pushed off the wall.

“Or,” He headed for the door, hand catching on the frame, “Go to therapy.” 

He paused, turning; a sly smile played at his lips, “Who knows, you might actually like it.”

. ♡ .

“Nice to meet you! No…Nice to meet you! Ugh, that’s worse. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

She huffed out a sigh, smoothing over her pencil skirt in the floor length mirror, and shook the nerves from her body. She squared her face into a serious expression, reaching a hand towards her reflection.

“Nice to meet you, Mr…” Her hand hung mid air, eyes searching the ceiling for an answer before she groaned, smacking a hand over her face. “What am I even supposed to call him? His hero name? Or…is that too impersonal?” 

She started pacing, “No. You don’t know him, you aren’t friends.” Her hands rubbed at her face, “But this is supposed to be a comfortable environment.” 

She didn’t hear the knock at her door as she muttered to herself, “Hero name or real name. Hero name or real name…eenie meenie–”

“Uhh, am I interrupting something?”

She yelped, jumping a bit in her skin, before scrambling to contain herself.

“Ah! Hello!” She cleared her throat in an attempt to rid herself of the squeakiness, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Mr–” She tripped over the plush chair in front of her on her way to greet him, only to be caught by toned arms instead of old leather.

He helped her up as she dusted herself off, flustered, and embarrassed. Looking into lilac eyes, she found indifference and annoyance. How should she deal with this?

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. That was incredibly unprofessional.” She sighed, introducing herself, “How would you like me to address you?”

He gave her his name, “I’m not exactly a working hero right now, anyway.” His face twisted in irritation, and she made a mental note, painting a pleasant smile on her lips.

“The Hero Commission informed me of your situation. I promise, spend the next six months with me, and I’ll send you home with a stamp of approval, and then you can get right back to saving lives.” She giggled a bit, reaching a hand to her face like a schoolgirl sharing a secret, “But, between you and me, I think this is complete bullshit.”

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise, softening a bit, and she fist pumped in her mind. Nailed it!

“In any case, we should get started. Sit, please.” She gestured to the couch across from them, and he took a seat. She cleared her throat as she sat herself in her chair, “I assume you know why you’re here with me today?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah.”

A beat. Nope, okay, that’s all she was getting right now. Time to change tactics.

“You know, since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together these next few months, it might be best to get to know each other a bit before diving in head first. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

His eyes scanned her, analyzing, sizing her up, “You look a little young to be a therapist.”

Internally she sighed, she was expecting that one, “I’m twenty-four, so you’re technically correct. However, I assure you, I am more than qualified.”

He scoffed a bit, “What, am I your first client or something?”

“As someone who has worked as a hero since age fifteen, I’m sure you understand that there is no age requirement to start helping people.” She supposed it was her fault for opening this door in the first place.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, “Whatever you say, doc.”

Well, that was annoying. She sighed, No, she could do this.

“Do you know why the Hero Commission sent you to me?”

“Like I said, I–”

“No.” She kept the pleasant smile on her face. No time like the present, she supposed, “I mean, why they sent you to me.”

He was growing agitated, she could tell, “No.”

“Well, I may know a thing or two about having a villainous quirk.”

. ♡ .

So she could read minds. Big deal. He kicked a stray rock along the sidewalk as he walked home. He huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. That was hardly villainous. It’s not like she could do anything with that. He could mind control, for fuck’s sake.

But, he paused, he supposed he could see her point. He’d spent a good part of their hour and a half session on edge, wondering if she had looked into his mind, violated his privacy.

She had given him a sheepish smile, and assured him she wouldn’t use her quirk without his permission. To which he became even more suspicious. If she wasn’t reading his mind, how did she know what he was thinking?

“How do I know what you’re thinking if I’m not reading your mind, right?” She’d giggled. He had had half a mind to walk out right there.

“Believe it or not, you’re an incredibly easy person to read. Your emotions are written all over your face.”

Well, fuck you too, then. No one on the planet had ever told him that. In fact, he took pride in the monotonous, uncaring mask he’d perfected over the years.

“Oh, please don’t take offense,” She fiddled with her fingers before looking back up at him, “it’s…a side effect. Of my quirk. I can’t really turn that part off–the…understanding people part.”

She was an endearing little thing, he’d give her that. “S’fine.” He’d avoided her gaze in part embarrassment, and part annoyance. No. He wasn’t supposed to like her. This whole thing was happening against his will.

He huffed out a sigh, eyes following the setting sun. Six months. Six months, and he’d be free. He could do that. But he’d be damned if he enjoyed it.

. ♡ .

“Bullshit.”

She laughed, almost doubling over when she met his dull eyes, “I’m serious!”

“You’re just trying to one up me right now; there’s no way you got expelled for using your quirk,” He scoffed.

“I did!” She stifled her laughter to explain, “Granted, I’d read the teacher’s mind to get answers to a test, so it wasn’t completely unwarranted.”

He quirked an eyebrow, and she knew she was being judged, “In my defense, I was like twelve, and terrible at algebra.”

He remained unimpressed, “So you cheated,” he crossed his arms, “How did they even know you used it?”

“Well, I have to make eye contact, you know,” He nodded as she explained, “So, it’s not exactly discreet, but–”

“Okay, but if you’re in someone’s mind, how would they know that?”

“Let me finish! So, I’m flipping through Mrs. Kamakura’s mind, and–”

“Flipping?”

“Mhmm! People’s minds are like…storybooks. You get little flashes of images as you–sort of think of it as–as you’re flipping the page,” She paused, “Wait, you don’t get that?”

“What the fuck? No, IMAX, I don’t get that. It’s like…” He trailed off, eyes searching for the explanation, “It’s like once I’ve got them, I’m holding a leash, and wherever I guide, they follow. There’s no image, just a feeling of…control.”

She blinked, and he nearly cursed himself for freaking her out, only to be met with the sound of laughter, “Wait, wait, so–oh my god–that’s like, you gotta know that sounds kinky as fuck, right?”

He felt his face heat, and while he knew he should be disgusted, he let his mind flash with an image: he had to admit, she’d look good like that, at his feet, eyes wide, thighs pressed together in anticipation of what he’d make her do next—thank god she was too much of a goody two shoes to look inside. 

He squared his face back to neutral, “I could have your license revoked for that, you know.”

She settled, a warm smile at her lips as she shrugged, “You’re more than welcome to take your complaints up with the Hero Commission, but I can’t guarantee your next therapist will be nearly as fun as me.”

He rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile, “You’re hardly a therapist.”

“Oh my god,” She gasped mockingly, “You are so rude! No wonder you got stuck with me.”

He laughed, and as he caught sight of the twinkle in her eyes, a feeling he couldn’t quite place bubbled in his chest.

. ♡ .

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Look, I know it’s not exactly a pleasant memory, but–”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it.” He crossed his arms, avoiding her gaze.

She sighed out his name, “You’ve been coming to see me for a few weeks now, and we have yet to even talk about the reason you’re here in the first place.” She really did like talking casually with him, but she had a job to do, never mind how he huffed at her like a petulant child.

“You’re the one who said that reason is bullshit, so I don’t know why you’re pressing the issue.” 

Yep. She knew that would come back to bite her. 

“Just because it’s bullshit doesn’t mean it has no consequences,” She was trying so hard to stay the good guy; she finally felt like he’d started to trust her, “I understand what it’s like to–”

“You don’t understand anything. So you got kicked out of school when you were twelve for cheating on a test,” He scoffed, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have the people you’re trying to help look at you like you’re a—like you’re a fucking monster?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off.

“No, you don’t,” His eyebrows knit together in frustration, “I’m out there trying to save the lives of people who hate me while you’re in here making small talk with whoever’s unlucky enough to pass through your door. It’s not the same thing.”

There was a beat of silence, and something twisted in his chest when he caught a glimpse of the kicked puppy look that crossed her face. Before he could apologize she began speaking. 

She rolled her lip between her teeth, sighing, “You know, you’re the first hero client I’ve ever had.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t finished, “I mean, technically, you were right, I haven’t really had clients before, either.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, “Then, what–”

“I told you I was expelled from school when I was twelve, but I never told you that that was the last school I ever went to,” A melancholy look glazed over her eyes, “Somewhere along the line, don’t ask me how, the Hero Commission was informed of my quirk–apparently mind reading is rarer than you think.”

She started to fiddle and pull at her fingers as she avoided his gaze, “I spent the next six years in special schooling, before interrogating captured villains for the Hero Commission,” A humourous laugh left her, “my parents were just so excited at the prospect of their little girl being some type of hero.”

“But, you know,” Her voice started to shake, “When you’re invading someone’s mind, stealing their thoughts, no matter how many bad things they’ve done, no matter how villainous they claim to be,” she swallowed the unshed tears, eyes hardening, “When they fight, and claw, and beg for you to just please, get out of their head, you don’t feel like anyone’s hero.”

He knew the feeling well, and as he listened, he found a sort of familiarity in her words. Had anyone been able to put his thoughts into words before?

She smiled a bitter smile, “So, yeah, I know what it’s like to be looked at like a…fucking monster.”

He swallowed, hating the break in her voice. “I didn’t know that.”

She cleared her throat, “As the years went by, I wasn’t just interrogating villains, I was talking to them, helping them,” Her eyes shifted, “They’re people too, you know. They deserve a chance just like the rest of us–to change.”

That bubbling feeling in his chest started to boil. He decided he kind of liked it. The warmth of it. Of her.

She huffed out another laugh, “So imagine my surprise when the Hero Commission came to me with a new challenge. Not a villain. But a hero. A hero to help.” She finally met his gaze, “You.”

. ♡ .

She tossed a few newspaper articles on the glass table in between them, gesturing for him to sort through them. He rolled his eyes, reluctantly obliging.

“Well?” She asked earnestly.

He quirked a brow, lifting his gaze to meet hers, “Well?”

“How do those articles make you feel?”

He scoffed, “Oh, fuck off.”

She laughed lightly, “I’m serious. Come on, tell me. How do they make you feel?”

“You know, for a fake therapist, you’re awfully stereotypical.”

“Now you fuck off, I’m not a fake therapist,” Her lips pulled into a crooked grin, “You know, if you don’t wanna talk about it, I could always take a peek? Would just take a second.” Her smile turned mischievous.

He hated the way his chest warmed, a smile pulling at his lips, “What, you spill your deep dark secrets to me, and it only takes two months to start threatening me?”

“I’m not threatening you.” 

The singsong in her voice made him want to take her over his knee. Brat. Wait. Fuck–he really needed to stop thinking of her like that. But he couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated as he imagined it.

Ass on full display, glowing red. Hands numb as he trapped them in one of his own while she cried. Her hair sticking to her face with the wetness, begging for his forgiveness. He’d give it to her, of course he would. But, he’d tell her, stroking the dome of his canvas, she needed to earn it first.

He shook himself from his thoughts and rolled his eyes playfully, turning back to the articles.

‘UNDERGROUND HEROES: ARE THEY REALLY HERE TO PROTECT YOU?’

and another few with his hero name plastered at the top,

‘MIND CONTROL HERO USES QUIRK ON UNSUSPECTING CIVILIANS’

and

‘HERO OR VILLAIN IN DISGUISE? THE TRUTH ABOUT AN UNDERGROUND HERO.’ 

“I feel like these are complete bullshit.”

She looked unimpressed, “Bullshit is not a feeling.”

He searched her eyes for mercy, and found none, “Fine,” he groaned, “I feel angry. I feel like no matter what I do, I just can’t fucking win; I’m always the bad guy, like this one–”

He pulled up the second article, “Unsuspecting civilians?” He scoffed, “I was responding to a domestic violence call, sue me for telling a guy to stop beating his wife.”

“And this one,” He pulled out another, “What, villain in disguise? Just cause the paparazzi got a picture of me half awake at four in the goddamn morning, and I had the audacity to look annoyed?”

He went on, listing the problems with each and every one, before sighing. “I just don’t understand. Tabloids print stupid rumours about heroes all the time, but because of my quirk, everyone thinks they somehow must be true?” 

He was getting heated, hands becoming animated as he spoke, “What? I make one real mistake, and I’m suddenly like some burnt out celebrity who gets sent to rehab, so that they can get back in society’s good graces. It’s…bullshit.”

“You know,” He laughed a bit in disbelief, “I don’t give a shit if you’re a fake therapist or not, I’m telling you this in confidence, okay?” He looked up at her.

Startled a bit at the abrupt pause, her eyebrows raised, but she nodded quickly in affirmation, gesturing for him to continue.

“It’s almost like they want me to be a villain,” he huffed, hands pulling at his hair, “And…and sometimes…sometimes I feel like…maybe I’d be better off as one.”

His eyes shifted, “No,” searching desperately for the words, “That’s not true,” he sighed, hands rubbing at his face.

“For once,” he lifted his gaze, “Just for once, I’d like to be someone’s hero,” his eyes seemed to burn so intensely into hers that she had to remind herself to breathe.

“I want someone to look at me and think, that’s my hero.”

. ♡ .

She fiddled with her fingers as she stood in front of the boardroom, willing herself not to rock back and forth on her heels. Her eyes scanned the room, searching the faces for any discernible shifts in emotion.

“And you’re positive?” One of the men finally spoke, “It’s only been four months–the agreement was six.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by another, scratchier voice.

“You’re kidding, right?” He scoffed, “four months of chitchat, and you’re ready to send him back into the field?”

Someone else cleared their throat, “I’m inclined to agree–the severity of the situation demands more promising results than simply your word.”

She nodded, and, at the ensuing silence, realized that was her cue, “Ah! Yes, well. I really do think we’ve made progress. Of course, I’m willing to wait two more months, but–”

“But he has some of the best capture numbers on the Hero Billboard,” The man at the head of the table interrupted, “It’s in our best interest to get him back to work as soon as possible. If you’re sure we can assure the public of the anomaly of the matter–”

“She hasn’t even used her quirk,” The man with the scratchy voice interrupted, “At least give us that assurance,” He scoffed, “The man publicly dismembered a villain on national television.”

“With all do respect, sir, he didn’t dismember anyone,” She interjected, letting her annoyance get the better of her for a moment before containing herself, “While I agree the reaction was extreme–”

“And the fact that children watched as a man ripped his own limbs off.” Another scoffed.

She cleared her throat, “Yes, well,” Her eyes shifted, searching for the answer, “Had he done nothing, none of those children would have lived to see another day–lest we forget the damage those limbs were capable of–he’s a hero, at the end of the day,” She was getting heated again, “He did his job; we should all be grateful.”

There was a beat of silence as the words were absorbed, and the man at the head of the table finally spoke, “I trust your judgment,” Her eyes nearly lit up, but then, “But, I also see the appeal of assurance we can give the public. Look into his mind–the knowledge that this won’t happen again, that he isn’t a threat, will ensure we don’t end up right back here in a few months time.”

She deflated, but regained her composure, swallowing the unease building in her chest, “Yes, sir.”

. ♡ .

“No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on! I just wanna know what it feels like. You’re the only person I’ve met with a quirk even similar to mine–”

“I said, No.”

“How ‘bout we make a deal?” She stamped down the building feelings of guilt–this was the only way to help him, really help him.

He turned the words over in his mind, “What deal?”

Stop it. This is for the best. “You use your quirk on me, just like I asked.”

His eyes dulled, “I’m not seeing the deal part of this arrangement.”

“Hear me out,” There was a thrumming of anxiety in her chest, “You use your quirk on me, and to make it fair, I use mine on you. That way we’re both equally culpable.”

There was a beat of silence before he snorted, “Never knew you were such a pervert, doc.”

Her face heated, and she tripped over her words, “That’s not what I mean!” She huffed, collecting herself, “You don’t want to use your quirk on me, and I don’t want to use my quirk on you–this way, we both have to do something we don’t want.”

“Who says I want you in my mind, pervert?” His eyes narrowed playfully.

“Stop calling me that, or I swear I’ll make sure you’re stuck with me ‘till you die.”

“Would that be so terrible?” He surprised himself with the words, but the way her cheeks heated soothed his own embarrassment. Fine, he figured, he’d give her a bone. “Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket, deal.”

“Really?” She nearly sighed from relief, but then he continued.

“But” He told her, “You better stay surface level, I don’t need you seeing all that dark shit in my brain.”

It was her turn to narrow her eyes, scanning him for a moment, before deciding, “...Do you look at foot fetish por–”

“Okay!” He interrupted, flustered, “ Deal’s off.”

“Nooo!” She whined, “I take it back, I was kidding, please.”

She paused a moment, “You know, you shouldn’t be ashamed, everyone has their own ki–”

“I swear to God, I’ll use my quirk on you just to get you to shut the fuck up.”

She hummed, content, “Lovely,” She gestured for him to continue, “take it away.”

He rolled his eyes, “I have to ask you a question, what are you, stupid?”

“Hey–!” And she was gone.

He found himself staring into blank pupils, and missing the color. Though, he couldn’t help the giddiness that bubbled in his chest of having her under his control. Fuck. He knew he shouldn’t have done this. She was wrong–he enjoyed the fantasy of this moment far too much–it was her fault for pressing the issue in the first place.

He shook himself from his thoughts, opting to scan across her body. How easy it would be. He thought. She wouldn’t even remember. He could be buried balls deep inside her, ruin her, and she’d be none the wiser. But, he sighed, he’d really rather her a conscious participant.

He glanced down at the table where a glass of water sat in front of her. She’d be so pissed. But, he’d be able to see her tits through her ruined white blouse without committing a felony. Yeah, that would do just fine.

“Pick up that glass of water.” She obeyed. “Pour it over yourself.” She did. Well, fuck. He knew he’d enjoy the view, but felt embarrassed at the growing tightness in his pants.

I mean, he hadn’t let her go just yet–he could alleviate himself–No. He told himself. He promised he’d behave. He waited a little while for the bulge in his pants to die down before releasing her.

“Wha–” She groaned, but it fell to a whine when she felt the wetness on her chest, “Are you kidding me? You are such an asshole!” 

He huffed out a laugh as she lamented the ruined shirt, “Hey, you made your bed–I told you I didn’t want to do it.”

“Fuck you,” she said, stamping, and twisting at the shirt with her hands, “You owe me a new shirt.”

He shrugged, “Your turn, doc,” He paused, would she see those dirty thoughts of his? “Surface level, okay? Surface level.”

She nodded, smiling a bit when he handed her his jacket–-only for her to use it as a towel, wiping at her shirt. He really couldn’t win, could he?

“It’ll be easier to do that if you relax,” She adjusted herself in her seat, meeting his eyes, “That way, no stray thoughts pop up in your brain that you don’t want me to see. Otherwise, I won’t be able to control what I find.”

He wondered if she was aware of his thoughts already, but a look in her eyes, and he found nothing but earnest innocence, trust. He sighed internally, the shit he’d do for her. 

“Fire away, doc.”

It was always a bit strange at first. Storybook analogy aside, everyone’s mind formulated its thoughts a bit differently, and each time she’d have to navigate a different type of maze. She made a point to look only for what she came for, no matter how curious she became. But, as she sorted through his mind, she couldn’t find any truly villainous thoughts.

She sighed internally; she was right. The Hero Commission was wrong. And now, she could give him what he’s wanted these past few months, and send him on his way. Though, she found herself a bit disappointed she wouldn’t be seeing him around anymore. No, she shook herself from her thoughts, Don’t be selfish.

Nothing out of the ordinary; she should leave before things became more complicated, and as if the universe could read her mind, she was met with a flood of thoughts.

He watched as she sat across from him, eyes boring into his, mind elsewhere–well mind inside his. Think normal thoughts, he repeated, think normal thoughts. His eyes caught sight of the sheer fabric sticking to her skin, and he felt himself slip.

There was a flash of him bent over a woman on a desk, her desk–was that her? Her wrists caught in a deadlock by his hand as he rammed into her. She was crying out for him, back arched, ass pressing into the hips that slammed against her. Fuck me. His other hand wound around her hair, yanking her head up to look at him. Fuck me! Kissing up her neck, his teeth left bruises in their wake. 

Love me. Sweat dripped down from his brow, and he licked up her cheek, biting at her earlobe. Love me! He took her jaw in his fingers, turning her face to kiss her–she was sure that was her now. Spit glossed their lips as he pulled back, rutting into her in a way that had pornographic whines forced from her throat, drool coating her chin, and staining the desk below them. Her face heated, and she scrambled to leave his mind before finding something newer, something more disturbing. 

Oh my god, she thought. Was he walking her on a fucking leash? No. Don’t kinkshame. That’s fine–

Yes, Master. The woman, this abomination that was her, purred. Whatever you want, Master. 

He watched her face as she knelt below him. Fingers running down between her tresses and pulling, letting her whine, and squeal, choking as he guided her bloated lips up and down and up and down his cock. Come on, He told her, Beg me, a sharp smile, canines dripping, Beg me to let you breathe. Her tears wet the purple tuft at his v-line, lips stained with precum, eyes shiny and wide, looking up at him as she tried not to spasm from the bulge shoved halfway down her throat. Searching for approval.

It’s just a thought he can’t–

They were on a bed. She was crying–his hands around her throat, fingers curled into the collar secured tightly around her neck–as he fucked into her. Her eyes crossed, tongue hanging from her mouth as her tits rocked from the force. Sweat dripped from his abs to where her legs were spread by his hips. He mouthed at her tits, pulling a nipple between his teeth while he took the other breast in his hand, kneading, squeezing. She was squealing. Please, sir. That didn’t sound like her. Can I cum?

Her hands reached up to tug at his locks, but he forced them into the mattress, fingers intertwining with her own. He snorted, You cum when I say you can, pet. She whined as his hips sped their motions, moaning, and turning, trying and failing to pull her hands from beneath his grip.

Please, Master, can I cum Master? I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good, Master. That god forsaken collar tethered her to the bed like a glorified sex doll–little bell jingling each time he thrust into her. He laughed, and she couldn’t help the chill in her bones. Who do you belong to, huh? His breath ragged from exertion, Tell your Master who you belong to.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

She forced herself out of his mind, heart threatening to break out of her chest.

He looked startled as she came to, and she willed her breathing to slow, swallowing the nerves screaming at her inside her mind. She couldn’t read the emotion that crossed his face, but his eyebrows raised as he waited for her to say something.

She let out a shaky breath, forcing out a laugh, “So,” She swallowed, “Kind of disappointed I didn’t find that foot fet–”

He snorted, “Fuck off,” She followed, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

. ♡ .

“So, that’s it?”

“There’s already a message out to the press,” His mentor told him, “You’re off the hook as soon as it airs.”

“But it’s only been four months?” This didn’t make sense, “What happened?”

“Must have made quite the impression on your therapist,” The older man snorted, “She went right to the Hero Commission, gave them a full clean bill of mental health.”

He knew he should be happy, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. “Can I talk to her?”

The man shrugged, “Don’t see why not, though,” A yawn cut through the words, “heard the Commission’s transferring her–something about the branch in America.”

His heart fell through his chest. She was leaving him without so much as a goodbye? Scratch that. She was leaving him.

“I at least owe her my thanks,” He sighed, eyes hardening in determination, “Let me meet with the Commission."

. ♡ .

She was dodging his calls. A part of her felt badly for her trepidation; he was attracted to her, so what? He was an attractive man. Even she had the stray thought now and then. She’d seen so much worse in the minds of villains, some things that still gave her nightmares. He’s a guy; of course he’s gonna be thinking about sex.

But there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head. She’d been in so many minds, his wasn’t any different. Except it was. 

“It’s like once I’ve got them, I’m holding a leash, and wherever I guide, they follow. There’s no image, just a feeling of…control.”

Control.

That was it. He’d enjoyed it in his thoughts. She knew it. A palpable feeling in the atmosphere of his mind, drunk on the idea of controlling her. 

She’d joked about his kinks, about sex. Maybe a bit unprofessional, in retrospect. But she was trying to lighten the mood. He was her patient, and she was there to help him, to get him to open up. Sue her for trying to be personable.

But it wasn’t just controlling her in the bedroom, where he imagined her beneath him, kneeling at his feet in reverence, like he was–

Like he was her hero. She realized. 

“I want someone to look at me and think, that’s my hero.”

That’s what he had said. She thought it endearing at first, convinced he had more than earned his freedom, but…the way he looked at her,

“You better stay surface level, I don’t need you seeing all that dark shit in my brain.”

There was something darker. Something lurking under the surface. She couldn’t quite place it, losing herself in her thoughts. As she racked her brain for the answer, she didn’t hear the knock at the door.

“Am I interrupting something?”

She jumped, yelping as she turned to catch sight of the purple haired man standing too casually, too comfortably, in her doorway.

“Ah! Oh my god,” She cleared her throat of its squeakiness. She didn’t want to seem vulnerable. “You scared me.”

She stood, not so much to greet him, but in an effort to feel more secure. “Can I ask how you got my address?” She forced a laugh to lighten the atmosphere, “What, you stalking me or something?”

He shrugged, pushing the door closed as he made his way over to her, “Perks of being a working hero,” He paused as he neared her, “Thanks to you.”

Yeah. Way to go. She really tried not to back away as a hand came to brush at her hair, but her feet moved on their own. A look of hurt passed lilac eyes before settling on annoyance. Wow. You nailed it. Shut up.

He cleared his throat, “Heard you were leaving,” He studied her as her fingers started pulling at each other. Not a question. Good. Wait–why was she thinking about that?

“Yeah,” She thought she might rip off one of her fingers with the tension, “They’re opening a new rehabilitation program in–”

“You didn’t say goodbye.” He stepped closer. You know him. Stop freaking out.

“Yes, well, I’m s–” She stepped backward. 

“You know,” His eyes flickered to where her hands fidgeted, “You do that when you’re nervous.” A step forward.

“I’m not–” Another step backward.

He sighed, “I told you to stay surface level.” His eyes shifted, and he huffed, “If you’d just stayed surface level,” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She forced a laugh, “I don’t know what you’re–”

“Cut that out.”

She sighed, “I’m sorry,” Maybe he was just angry at her for violating his privacy. That must be it. “That was wrong of me. I understand if–”

“Honestly, did me a favor,” He huffed out a laugh. What. “Don’t know if I’d ever have had the guts in the first place,” Oh. Was this a confession?

She breathed out his name, “Everyone has feelings,” This was fine. Deescalation. This would work. “And you can’t control all your thoughts. Maybe we should start over.”

He looked at her a moment, eyes widening a fraction before softening. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Almost out of the woods. “Would’ve hated for it to go the other way.” The other way?

“The other way?” It tumbled from her mouth before she could stop it.

He shook his head, “Nevermind,” He looked around, “I’ll help you unpack.” What?

“Unpack?” She felt like a goddamn parrot at this point.

“Well, yeah,” He said it as if it were obvious, “Can’t start over if you’re halfway across the world.”

He was being purposely obtuse, right? This was a joke?

She laughed, but his face remained neutral. She cleared her throat, Professional. Be Professional. “While I appreciate the humour, there are people who need my help in Am–”

“You know, The Hero Commission are fucking terrified of me,” he said, eyes hardening, as if gathering resolve. Where was this going?

“Should’ve realized sooner,” His eyes were cutting into hers, “They’d do just about anything to keep up their image.” He stepped forward again.

“Do anything to keep from another incident,” Her back hit the wall. This was wrong. Everything was wrong.

“You said it yourself, I’m not a villain,” Something shifted, and she saw a glimpse of the kind man she’d come to know these past months. He was gone the next second, “I’d really hate it if you made me a villain.”

“Listen, I’m not sure what–”

“Let’s make a deal,” He smirked, “You use your quirk on me, and to make it fair, I use mine on you. That way we’re both equally culpable.”

“I don’t want to–”

“You don’t want to use your quirk on me, and I don’t want to use my quirk on you–this way, we both have to do something we don’t want.”

He was using her own goddamn words against her.

“You go first,” He brought his face to her level, hand pressed to the wall above her, “C’mon, fire away, doc.” She whimpered, She tried to rationalize the situation in her mind. She knew this man. Didn’t she? 

Stall, and you’ll figure a way out. Maybe she could find something useful in his mind.

She nodded, swallowing. She shook her nerves, feeling drowned by the lilac eyes in front of her. It wasn’t like the last time she’d been inside. Everything he’d been keeping under the surface bubbled up, overwhelming all her senses. It was suffocating. It was fucking terrifying.

She didn’t like this. She didn’t understand this. What the fuck was she seeing?

“Hey,” His other hand took her jaw between his fingers, eyes inside his mind, but ears open, “How does it feel, huh?” His lips were brushing hers.

“How does it feel to be able to see every single thing I’m gonna do to you, and not be able to do a damn thing about it?”

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere shinsou hitoshi #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere shinsou hitoshi x reader #yandere shinso hitoshi x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere shinsou #yandere shinso #shinso is so hard to write for #pls be nice

[12-seconds-to-live]

How do we stay?

pairing - f1drivers/2022 - DR3

summary - after almost lose you, all the drivers welcome you at the Austria GP, where there’s news about your future and more than one has something to tell you, even confess. pt.1 and pt.2.

warnings - angst

taglist - @ i0veless  sabrinaselina55  majx00  tyna-19 

“No way, I must be drunk and I didn’t realized”

It’s thursday, media day and without annoucement, Alice Brooks, F1 driver for Williams Racing appears in the paddock after an almost deathly crash in Baku. People never expect that to happen, even that she’ll be back. Everybody wanna see her racing and joking around and she prepare herself to heal and be in better shape.

“Well, I don’t brush my hair today, I really look that bad?” Alice ask to the first person to see her in the parking lot in the RedBull Ring, Pierre Gasly. No more words were needed, he drops his bag and hug her, she’s back, he thought. She accepted the hug and could feel her shoulder getting wet, Pierre was crying. For Alice, it is still unknown the impact of the accident on her friends, in fear of losing her and having to say goodbye was the first part to break their hearts. She passes her hands around her friend to comfort him.  

“I’m here and I don’t want to leave”

“We can make promises and...we just...you know”

“The letter?” she asks

“Yeah. We love you as much as you do to us, The boys are going to faint when they see you”

“Hope not, I want a lot of hugs and say thank you. I heard all of you” Pierre open his eyes in shock not believing her words.

“Movies are not to far from reality, I guess” Alice laughs and hug him to the side

“Let’s go. I don’t want to be late, P” He smiles and follow her lead to her hospitality. A few people knew that she was going to drive in Austria, none of her friends knew. Safe to say that Alice is scared, she’s grateful for her second family and this is her second chance to do things right, not only for her, for her friends, for the one she loves. Daniel.

----------

Daniel and Alice

Alice and Daniel

They are another story of the ones who loved but never confess their feelings. By the time they meet a year ago, they became best friends, always side by side even when they are from different teams. Daniel was the first one to realize his feelings, everytime she laughs his stomach feels the common butterflies, when she was sad, he always offer his shoulder for her to cry... but he wasn’t brave to tell her how she moves his world so fast that this well-being was more important that anything and when he saw her in that hospital bed his world fall, his heart stop and suddenly, there’s was not more road to follow, not without you by his side.

Now, more than ever  Zak announced in a private reunion that his contract with Mclaren ended so, he doesn’t have a seat for next year. He told you in your sleep but it wasn’t the same, you didn’t confort him, everybody want you back, he want you back.

“Daniel? Are you decent?” Lando sounded a bit agitaded. Alice didn’t know but Lando saw you with Pierre going to your motorhome, he almost screams and decided to look for Daniel.

“Yeah, all good?”

Lando sit in on the floor and look at him with wide eyes. Mmmm... have you heard anything from Al? I mean like,we know that she was in therapy and we can’t reach her but..but...Is she here? I mean...she’s here, she’s not dead so I want to believe that I didn’t see a ghost”

Daniel took his phone, looking to the photo of you together. He want to believe Lando. He’s been waiting so long for you. He looked for your number and press call.

----------

In the Williams motorhome, a very emotional Alex Albon keeps crying, with his girlfriend and teammate by his side. At the moment he saw Alice, he feels so relieved, he missed her so much and prays everyday to see her back on action, back on track.

“Please, don’t cry anymore”

“You’re so mean...you should call and I will bring the cats” Alice and Lily laughs with that

“There’s not need to that. I’ll visit them” She hugs him and look for Lily too. “Thanks you, you’re my first and best teammate ever, If I am good on track is because of you, even when we don’t have the best car. And Lily, I always tried to say hi to you but, nobody could hear me, so, hi” Alice let go Alex and embrace the girl in a hug. The couple procede to go out and let the girl get ready for media day.

Her phone starts ringing and see the photo of a very smiley Daniel, she didn’t answer, she want to wait and surprised him, see his smile but better ignored him at the moment. She takes her phone, water bottle and suited with her team gear head to the conference room. She’s going to be with Lewis, Carlos, Daniel and Max.

Walking almost hidding from everybody, Alice stands behind from George who was talking with Charles. 

Charles blink twice and muttered a curseword. That made the Mercedes driver to turned around. Alice opens her arms to them.

“I’m so happy, thank God you’re here” said George

“Why you didn’t text that you were coming? We’re going to take more care of you, Spolied you like a baby and...and” started Charles

“I know, I was scared, my mind was getting tricky but I’m fine and thank you for visit and be with me when I was alone at the hospital. I love you too boys” The embrace again in a hug “But now, I have a press conference, so, maybe we can chat later

“Deal”

“See you Al”

Alice enter the building feeling nervous, face the reporters, thinking in the questions, their answers, the feeling of change, guilt, pain, all to remember how she was almost gone to them, how she said goodbye in a sad way and then she’s here, again, ready to face anything, a race, the championship, the press, Daniel

Tell him how much she want to be with him. Explore the world and keep wining in F1.

All least she’s going to be the one doing that next season.

Her PR was waiting for her, she was the last one to arrive. At the time she opens the door, Daniel was about to sit. The faced each other, everybody noticed and feel for them, there’s no secret how much the care for each other.

Suddenly, Daniel forgot how to walk and even if he really forgot that, Alice would be there to help him to walk alongside him. She step in from of him and hug him. Daniel starts crying and embrace her, feeling like he was going to lose her again, feeling how he wasn’t able to sleep properly ‘cause his other half, his soulmate was nowhere, he was lost but now, she’s here and he’s going to make sure that they’re going to be alright.

“I miss you too and we’re going to be together in Perth when the season ends”

“How...?”

“I listened, all of you”

“Oh” Alice take his hand and go to their spots. She waved to the others and look around the room. 

“This room might explode somehow” she tries to joke, then all the reporters raised their hands to get the chance to hit questions, more to you than the others

The moderator in the room pointed out the first one.

“Good morning drivers. My question is for Alice, how are you? after your accident there was a lot of questions throw in the air ‘cause you almost disappear from everywhere, your team remain silent” You were looking down trying not to remenber that day

“Well, I’m here, I’m ok and happy to be back and thank you to all the people who where constantly sending support after the accident. It was terrible, I felt that way, I know that my team, my friends and family felt the same way but I decided to remain hidden, healing and getting in a better shape. I’m ready to go on track and do what I love”

“Alice, on summer break, Mclaren point you as the new driver for the 2023 season, any comments on that?”

“Excuse me, what?” I turned my head to Daniel and then to Max who nods “Well, It’s true that my contract with Williams is a subject that I don’t mention to much but if I changed my team, well, I will remain silent at the moment” I look at Daniel again and nod. Oh no

“Alice, can you tell us about...” the Williams driver sighs 

“Can you please ask questions to the boys? I don’t feel good talking only about me. A month ago, the team published a statement about that day and it’s pretty clear, I don’t want to talk about next year, I don’t want to talk about my personal life, I want to talk about my team, my car, expectetions for this weekend. So, please, I’m trying really hard to be kind and not be moody in fron of you. Thank you”

Safe to say, that the reporters were kind enough to do what you say.

After the conference, you talk a bit with the boys and go to grab lunch with Daniel and locked in your motorhome, hiding from the cameras.

“So...” you started grabing your fork to start eating “I know I have a lot to explain but I’m really sorry Dan. I don’t want anyone to see me that way and start feeling like crap”

“I would never judge you, you know that”

“I know, wanna talk about Mclaren?”

“Not really” he sighs “I’m happy that you’re the one whos taking my seat. It’s just that they decided from themselves” he look at me “Guess that I’m unemployed”

“Don’t say that, believe in miracles, I’m one now” He smiled at me and I returned “An as a living miracle, I want to thank you, everytime you visit I heard, I’m sorry for make you all sad, that day was a tricky one, but yeah”

“It’s ok, you’re here now, with me...I mean us”

“Dan...I’m with you and I don’t pretend to leave anytime soon, so...I must confess that I feel the same and want to make it worked, only if you let me of course”

Heard that makes Daniel goes as fast as Hamilton’s car, he wasn’t worry anymore, he is full of love and his face shows that. He cups Alice face and look at her with his brightest smile “I feel more happy than ever Al. If this is a shitty dream, I swear that I don’t want to wake up” Alice puts one hand on Daniel cheek and kissed him. This was the happiest moment for the drivers. The world could be in flames but now, they were embraced in each other arms, ready to fly high for their dreams, now they’re together and together they’re unstoppable.

“I’m so in love with you” 

“That makes two of us, Dan. I love you”

Maybe at the end, it becomes real

Enough for me, for us.

#oc x formula one #daniel ricciardo #formula one #formula 1 #red bull formula 1 #mclaren #f1 x reader #y/n x f1 #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #max verstappen #fanfic #f1xfemaledriver #lewis hamilton #sebastian vettel #lando norris #estaban ocon #alex albon #lance stroll #george russell #daniel riccardo x reader

[strawhatkia]

luvr boy.

INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !

WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited

WORD COUNT ! 1.6k

A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧

pretty boy- the prettiest 

alright!! let’s start with wash day!!

…nigga did not know shit-

 poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair

all he had was h e a t  d a m a g e

“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”

everything…everything is wrong…

aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength

and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack

chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it 

don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?

but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!

first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while

lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter

mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber  

after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet

“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth

after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size

“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night. 

the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed

when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes

“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”

he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self

which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."

to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting

golden hour, his favorite time of the day

this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you

it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this

"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"

side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised

izuku loves affection, giving and receiving

his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm

go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen

one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard

as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.

let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise 

ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so

even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)

i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much

if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise. 

and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times

remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason

poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking

he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it

later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did

and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands

he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them

he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend

i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it

please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit

he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special

he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it 

when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run

give it back and you'll never see it again.

but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red

“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*

nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-

for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka

short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in

long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !  

and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”

i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles

be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !

the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all ! 

the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while

he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else

i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together

you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price

what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?

everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !

izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you 

you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you

©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

wanna read more ??

lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters

boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo

love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters

taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene

izuku taglist: @cosmiles

#— kia writes ! #— luvr season ! #x black reader #black reader #black!reader #x black!reader #my hero acedemia #mha #boko no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia fluff #mha fluff #boko no hero academia fluff #bnha fluff #izuku midoriya #izuku x black!reader #izuku x black reader #deku #deku x black reader #deku x black!reader

[sibylsleaves]

from the love to the lightning

5k | rated T | read on ao3

But when Buck tried to ask him if everything was okay with him, Eddie just said, “Me? Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?"

And Buck really didn’t have an answer for that so he let it go.

Because Eddie doesn’t hide that stuff from him, anymore. Not since the day Buck broke down his bedroom door and found him sobbing in a heap on the floor.

So when Eddie says everything’s okay, Buck believes him.

or, after the lightning strike, Buck recovers. Eddie doesn’t.

Healing is slow. Buck knows this. He’s done this before. Last time, he was too eager, probably, to get back to work.

This time, he’s learned how to be patient.

The first week, his parents hover around the loft, offering to do anything and everything for him, even though Buck is definitely capable of microwaving his own soup and fetching his own pillows. But he can’t deny it’s nice to have their attention. Their care. Although he can’t help but be afraid that the minute they get on the plane back to Pennsylvania, it will evaporate again.

The rest of the 118 gets back to work, and Buck surprises himself by only feeling a little jealous that they get to be out there while he’s stuck on his (brand new) couch. After their parents depart, Maddie takes a few extra days off from dispatch to make sure Buck’s taken care of, although he suspects it’s more to keep him company than anything.

But actually, Buck’s days are far from lonely. Because most of them—the weekends and the afternoons, anyway—he spends with Chris. Sometimes Chris and Carla. Sometimes Chris and Eddie, when he’s not on shift. And sometimes just the two of them.

It’s strangely like the time they spent together after the tsunami. Chris is older now, of course, almost a full-blown teenager instead of a round-cheeked eight-year-old, but he’s just as attached to Buck now as he was then. Maybe even more so.

When Buck heard about the ICU caper that Chris, Eddie, and Carla managed to pull off during Buck’s time in coma dream purgatory, he almost started crying on the spot. When he asked Chris about it, Chris just said, “I had to talk to you.” Like that was that.

“I’m really glad you came to see me,” Buck told him. “Even if it was against the rules. I heard you, you know. Your voice, telling me I had to come back. I heard it.”

“I knew you would,” Chris said, and Eddie, who was standing by the kitchen door watching them, looked away.

It’s nice, that Chris wants him around so much. Buck really doesn’t have much else to occupy his time while he recuperates, and it’s pretty hard to feel sorry for yourself when you’re hanging out with the coolest kid in L.A. They even go to PT appointments together, because Buck got a referral for Chris’s clinic, since they specialize in neurologic physical therapy.

“Hey, hope you two are hungry!” Eddie greets as Buck and Chris tromp through the door after a particularly rough session. 

“Starving!” Chris exclaims.

Buck looks at the takeout boxes on the dining table. “Is that Tito’s? Did you get—”

“Chili con carne?” Eddie asks, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a foil-wrapped burrito.

Buck loves him so much in this moment he wants to cry. Instead, he takes the proffered burrito, but he must be staring a little too much because Eddie drops his gaze and starts digging in another bag for chips.

“What’d you two get up to today?” Eddie asks as Buck and Chris both sit down. 

Christopher launches into a blow-by-blow of their day. Eddie laughs and smiles and makes jokes in all the right places, but Buck can’t shake the feeling that something is off. 

It’s a feeling he’s been having ever since he got out of the hospital.

(keep reading on ao3)

#CHRIST this took forever to finish #in my defense i was genuinely just very busy over the mini hiatus #but i am SO GLAD i managed to get this out before the next episode because i'm already losing my mind over the poker date situation #sibyls words #buddie fic #911 fic #911fic #Buddie

[persephone11110]

Self Control

Jake Seresin x Reader

Three times you should’ve stopped fucking Jake Seresin, and one time you finally did.

tw:one night stands, insecure reader, KINDA DARK, mentions of sex throughout—DUBIOUS CONSENT fic,Dead Iceman->reader is grieving and doesn’t how to process her emotions properly, asshloe J.S->cheater Jake, they both need fucking therapy!!,—jake abusive childhood Jake chokes reader->bruises, happy ending, the two kazansky children seen in the movie are cannoned just gave them names(Xander,Ana Kazansky),self-slutshaming, reader calls herself whore 2-3x, mavdad—feminist icon

WC : 2.7k

AN: I really can’t tell you how this fic was born tbh, but enjoy❤️, title from Self Control- Frank Ocean

—

THIS FIC MENTIONS SEX ALOT, I PUT DUBIOUS CONSENT BCUS READER & JAKE ARE NOT IN RIGHT STAND OF MIND, PLEASE BE CAREFUL!!!

1. his bedroom

You’ve been thinking to yourself lately,everynight you lie in bed in wondering if you should be tired of doing this?, giving a piece of yourself to Jake Seresin three times a week.

You wondered if the man even cared enough to get to know you, after all you’ve been acting as his bed warmer for the past three months.

But that just it, you were warned of how this would work, you both agreed to emotionless sex— being each other’s fuckbuddies when work got to much to emotionally handle.

As it seemed neither of you had the mental capacity to have a healthy coping mechanism. You sat on your floor infront of a mirror trying to cover up a neck bruise, Jake had a nightmare again—the same one as usual, Instead Jacob Sr was the one doing the choking.

“Jake, Jake!” your throat was closing, Jake hand around throat was tightening—his fingers digging deep into your skin Again. You were begging for him to release you. You stared into his green forest like eyes—their so fucking beautiful.

At first he doesn’t acknowledge your pleading tone, Jakes most likely still stuck in nightmare from hell “Jake please let go”. Your voice was dry now, tears sprung from your eyes as it did his.

A loud thump happened as your body rolled of the bed to the floor. You heard heavy breathing which normally signaled Jake had finally woken up . He banged his head against the headboard loudly. Jake utters a small—“I’m sorry”before leaving you alone in the room to gather himself.

You sat on the floor like fucking obedient dog waiting for Jake to come back and tell you what do next. While you sit there in silence apart of you wonders were the strong Y/n“Killerfrost” Kazansky went, the woman who didnt break a sweat while looking death in the face. The woman who flew more colder than Iceman more crazier than Maverick. What happened?

Death happened,cancer stripped your dad of his life. Sitting at his beside watching him struggle take his last breath, shushing him he because he was pushing himself to use his voice.

Going on base and listening to the Admiral Simpson go over on the speaker and tell the base that Admiral Kazansky—your dad drew his last breathe. Which led you to Jake Seresin bed.

Younger you would be so disappointed in you right now. Younger Y/n Kazansky would rather die before laying down with man who’s ruining their mental health. If someone told you ten years down line you would be fucking one of the worst men as an emotional outlet. You would’ve laughed in their face repeatedly till you passed out from lack of oxygen.

“Tom Kazansky would be so disgusted with his daughter”, a thought lingered around your mind, “Dad wouldnt even want to be in the same room as you”.

You picked yourself off the floor as you heard Jake’s footsteps getting closer. Your legs were bouncy as anxiety was coursing through your veins—flying never did make you feel this, but leave it to Jake‘Hangman’Seresin to.

Jake voice was low and rough,“See you next week”. Before you could say something to the man, he already had his back turned walking away from you.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment,“How am I falling for a man who doesn’t love me and never will?”. You continue to slip your clothes back on as you toss the thought around in your head, careful of your sore neck skin. “You should be ashamed of yourself Y/n Kazansky, you were not raised be a whore who re adjust their clothes as a John throws a fucking dollar at them., You were raised with dignity”.

Whore. Y/n Kazansky callsign should be Jake Seresin whore.

Your pressed your head into the shower wall, allowing the hot pressed water to soothe your aching muscles.“I’m so sorry daddy”.

—

2. Family Dinner

You kept tugging at the hem of your turtle neck, it was to hot to be wearing this damn thing in the first place. But last thing you wanted to was to worry your siblings as they had just lost their father. That last thing they needed was their weak sister falling apart at the seams, as if they weren’t either.

Two times a month your siblings held saturday dinner. The idea was to keep up with eachother.

Guess who’s been missing family dinner to fuck Jake Seresin?, the answer is Y/n Kazansky.

You stood on Ana porch quietly, wondering if you should even go in, not wanting the catch the end of your short-tempered sister.

“You plan on standing there till hell freeezes over?”, a voice pulls your from your thoughts, Xander Kazansky was standing behind you with pie in his hands. “Come on sis, Ana been waiting to see you”. He smiled, softly pulling on your wrist to get you into the door. You mirror his smile, forgetting all about last night. You closed the door behind you.

“Hey kid”, you stand there waiting for him to put the pie down before you pull him into a tight hug. Your ruffling his hair, with one hand.

“I have you know Y/n I can legally drink alcohol”. Xander pouts like little kid.

“Y/n didn’t wait until she was twenty one drink”. Ana tone of voice was sour as she gestured the both of you to sit down.

“Ana I—“ Your cut off by her harsh words.

“Y/n the longer you spew bullshit at me the longer its takes to bless the food”. Ana states before bowing her head and closing her eyes.

You and Xander make eye contact before joining her.

“So us non-aviators aren’t good enough for you anymore?” Ana asked you in calm tone, yet you could hear how angry she truly was.

Xander was to busy scraping at his dinner plate, shoving food in his mouth—not wanting to be caught in the middle of his sister’s argument.

You bite at the inside of your cheek unsure of what to say back. Can’t say the truth because then Ana will really flip out if she finds what her little sister been doing lately.

You glanced at your plate again thinking up lie to tell her. “I’ve been busy Ana, since the mission the dagger squad have become a permanent squadron”. Your telling the truth but the full truth.

You pray Ana takes the bone you threw at her and leaves it alone. Ana gave you a dirty look before picking at her broccoli and shoving it in her mouth. Thank god neither of your parents were here as they would’ve picked up on ticks, the picking at your nails, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Sweetheart you can tell us whats going on you know that right”, your dad would say while nudging your shoulder, “Your off the clock, you can retire Killerfrost till your up in the air”.

You thought Ana had let it go as she stopped acknowledging you, and was only talking to Xander. "I hope that whatever you been doing was worth it Y/n, you haven’t even seen mom in goddamn month”.

“Ana” Xander sighed, he was getting tired of his sister remarks, you didn’t wanna defend yourself anymore, not that you even tried to.

You bowed your head in shame, no longer wanting to make eye contact with either sibling.

“What Xander?”, Ana raised her voice,”It’s the same fucking thing dad would’ve say to her too,I’m getting tired of her acting as if she’s the only one who lost a dad, like mom didn’t lose apart of her”.

You could feel the tears attempting to escape from your eyes. You placed the silverware back in its place, you stood from the dinner table. Casting a look between the both of them—“I’m sorry Ana, Xander” before you walked out of her house with tears rushing down your face.

Your sitting at a gas station thinking about everything, you really were acting selfish.

Maybe fucking Jake Seresin was a bad idea?

You picked up your phone, eyeing the text message. “I can’t sleep Y/n, come over if your aren’t busy”.

And just like that, Jake was telling you to come over it’s like he knew when it was a bad time for you. How dare you say no to him?

You put the key back in the ignition and start to slowly pull out of the parking lot.

Your on the back road, the shortest way to get to his house.

3. All I Could Was Cry

She was standing there with my man.

I heard them promise death do us apart.

A woman who looked like Marilyn Monroe was her descendant hung off of Jakes arm, she wrapped her hand around his bicep. They both shared a smile with one another, “I’m busy tonight Y/n“, he texted you this morning.

They were pushing eachother into the water- her screams of joy as Jake playfully her slammed into the water. She leaned into to him pushing her tongue down his throat.

I was losing the man I loved.

“Falling in love with a man like that is dangerous game Y/n” A familiar voice interrupts your self pity. Uncle Maverick is standing behind you with two beers in his hands and small smile. “Scoot over kiddo” Your sitting on cold sand, pretending to be okay with the scene infront of you.

“Uncle Mav if your here to give me I’m so disappointed in you speech, I’ve already gave myself one more than once I-“. He gently cuts you off when he pulls you into a tight, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“Your mom been worried about you, so has your siblings , me and the daggers”. His voice is laced with worry, you hated making people worry about you. “Your flying been…crazy these past couple of months”. Maverick struggles to find more words to say, unsure if he does it might push into Jakes arms.

He was right you been flying like your ass was on fire, and if you’ve been pulling maneuvers even he wouldn’t dare to.

“Ana Kazansky is worried about me?”, Your eyes widen at that,“It didn’t seem like that a couple nights ago when she was going for my head”.

“Ana is like your father, arguing with them is like sitting on the stand defending yourself against a criminal charge”. Uncle Maverick explains with a soft tone, “I would know after pissing your dad off for over thirty years”. You swear he blinks away a few tears before continuing.

“I have everything under control, yes I like Seresin and I understand he doesn’t want me”. You feel indifferent as the lie rolls off your tongue through your mouth. “I’m Killerfrost Kazansky who doesn’t allow her emotions to get the best of her”. Your eyes shift away as you attempt to not hold eye contact with him.

“The same bullshit your father tried to pull with me years ago, your Y/n Kazansky the woman who just her father, the woman who misses her father dearly the man who showed you how to spell your name, the man who managed to get out of deployment early to drop you off for the first day kindergarten”.

Tears pricked at your eyes,“I didn’t think about it that way,maybe i’ve been to hard on myself?”. Your voice cracks with emotion. “As much I hate to say it— It feels nice to be ‘wanted’ by someone, Mav”.

“Kid, I was that man thirty some odds years ago when Goose died, I had sex with any woman who looked my way and said yes”. Maverick pulled away from you, gently wiping away your tears. “It’s going to hurt kiddo for awhile, but I promise you its gets better, the last thing Ice would want is for his daughter to lose herself, to allow a man to tell her how worthy she is”. He presses a kiss into the side of your head“It’s okay to feel emotions Y/n Kazansky”, he said low enough for only your ears.

After leaving you alone with your thoughts, your phone blinks as a notification pops up.

“Y/n I need you over tonight”. Your walking back to the car, hand on the car handle. “10 is good”. Your driving past his house, your driving to your apartment.

4. Happier Again (3months later)

He’s in standing your doorway with roses in his hand, and red wine in the other. When you heard knocking on the door you expected Ana because it almost time for movie night or Harvard because he’s sucks at cooking and needs help. But not him—Jake Seresin was standing in your doorway looking apologetic.

The new you wants to slam the door in his face, forcing him to catch a hint that the nights you spent in his bed were over. Deciding against your gut you decide to allow him in, for what you’ll never know—maybe he’s here to offer a peace offering.

You still had to work with him still— the dagger squadron is permanent till Cyclone and Cain think otherwise.

Jake goes to open his mouth but nothing leaves it, which is a first. The great Hangman is left clueless not a insult dripping with anger and sarcastic comment in sight.

“Come in Jake” He cocks his head to the side unsure if he really should.“If you want stand outside and look stupid thats fine by me”. You turn on your heel,but before you get far he grabs you by wrist, pulling you into a kiss.

The roses, the wine—he loves me, Jake“Hangman” Seresin finally loves me. You feel the old you try to blossom like a dead flower, attempting to sprout back to life.

“Stop!”You shoved at his chest he falls back alittle. “No, I’m not doing this again with you Jake”. Your cheeks are starting to get red,“What about that woman from the hard deck?”.

His lips slip into a tight smile“She and I are going through a rough patch right now”. Jake steps into your apartment, “Y/n its nothing to worry about she wouldn’t know”.

You shake your head at him,“You haven’t changed?”.

“Oh come on darlin it’ll be like old times”, He stands tall, his hangman smile is fully on display.

You scoff, doesn’t he understand what I just said?

“Jake you have a girlfriend, its make you a cheater!” You jabbed a finger into his chest. “Your cheating on your girlfriend”. He doesn’t give a shit.

“And your such a fucking angel darlin, we fucked for how long Y/n?”. His voice is harsh, anger bubbling—getting ready to explode like a volcano. “Were’s ya fucking halo at?”.

“I didn’t know” you yell back at him—standing your ground. The one bad thing you inherited from your dad was his temper, when your button been pushed for too long.“You must fell from heaven when your father casted you out, huh?”. A low blow that was uncalled for, but he’s taking it there.

“I need you darlin, I need to fuck you!”. he screams, your pretty sure you and Jake are one second close to having the cops called for a domestic disturbance.

“You and I need therapy Jake”, your voice returning to a calm tone.“Fucking you was worst shit i’ve ever done, I’ve been using you as a tool”. You step back from him.“Jake you can’t honestly tell me we aren’t ‘broken’ a little bit, sane humans don’t do this shit”.

Jakes eyes were squeezed closed, your cupped his jaw with your hands.“It’s okay not be okay, but its not okay to be doing this”. You sighed,“As much as I want to, its not healthy Jake”.

Jake opened his eyes, tears were rolling down his face. “I’m so sorry Y/n I just needed a break, I needed a break from being Hangman”.

“A smart guy told me once your no longer in the air, there’s no need to fake who you are”. Your eyes are beginning to become teary, “We need help Jake”.

“Your right Y/n” His eyes were still wet.

“Go back your place and try to figure out what went wrong with you and her”. You gently told him. “Work buddies?”. You had hope in your voice, you put your hand out.

A wet laugh fell from his mouth,“Work buddies”. He shakes it.

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

[froggywritesstuff]

lego flowers | teddy lobo

ship/pairing: Teddy Lobo x g/n!reader

fandom: Renfield

request: anon: pleasseeee teddy x gn reader fluff??? Post movie, renfield revives him and he's learning how to be a good person?? Xx

content warnings: ooc (probably), mentions of death/murder, idk how to write endings, swearing, teddy's insecure and an idiot, fluff, confessions of love, barely proofread

word count: 1357

A/N: i started and rewrote this three times cause i got so embarrassed thinking someone actually wants to read this and they specifically asked me to write it like ahh

When you’re dating Teddy Lobo, you say goodbye to most of the normal things in life. One thing being you never have to wait in line at the shops anymore. You don’t love the fact that it’s because half the people in the room are terrified of the Lobo’s and the other half are basically owned by the Lobo’s but what can you do? You could end the relationship, cut off all contact and start a relationship with someone not so dangerous and unpredictable. But your heart tends to speak louder than your brain some days.

Unfortunately, you had found yourself rather infatuated with Teddy. While he was rough around the edges, you really did love his company, and he had shown you that he loved yours. While engaging in romantic relationships with any member of the Lobo family - or any crime family for that matter - definitely isn’t the smartest thing to do, you can’t deny how happy you are with him. 

You weren't expecting him to die... then be revived by the same person who killed him. Any-who, you postponed going to therapy and helped Teddy move into your apartment (since he was legally dead and that's kind of an issue when it comes to renting a place to live in). There really wasn't much difference to your relationship since you basically lived with him before. However your apartment had much space less than the Lobo mansion had. Teddy however? He was acting differently. You supposed that dying and being brought back to life would do that to someone. Though physically, he was the same - he still had the black slicked back hair he thought made him look badass, and the big brown puppy dog eyes that severely contrasted his supposed badass look. But when he spoke, he seemed more reserved and careful, like he was overthinking every word he said to you. It was almost unnerving hearing him talk to you for the first time since he had been brought back. His cocky, arrogant demeanour was there but so faint you could barely recognise it. He reminded you of how he acted when you first started dating

When he texted you for help, you assumed he was still an idiot - something not even death could change - and hurt himself or got into more trouble with the police. You weren't expecting this.

You rushed home to your now shared apartment, welcomed by Teddy's loud swearing from your bedroom. You make your way to him, and knock on the door, your ears picking up the sound of his voice muttering a string of curses in frustration.

”Teddy? It's me.”

“Fuck- one sec.” you hear him sigh. The door is pulled open and you’re met with Teddy. His hair is dishevelled and his face has a frustrated expression, but his face soon softens when he sees you.

"What'd you need help with?" you ask, and you can just make out the red hue on his cheeks. 

“Uh…” he presses his lips together, before stepping out of the door frame. On the floor you see a pile of lego bricks, spread out in no particular order. The instructions are discarded off to the side, so you’re sure Teddy didn’t spare a glance at them. You walk further inside his room and inspect the lego further, seeing majority of the pieces resembling red flower petals.

"You're making lego flowers?" you see him nod his head, "Ok sure, why not…" you mutter, sitting cross legged in front of the pile of lego.

"So can you help me?"

You grab the instruction manual, “Yeah I’ve nothing better to do.” 

Teddy follows you, sitting beside you on the floor. He leans toward you to see the instructions, but you know he’s not registering anything he’s reading. You don't think he's even reading.

"I'm guessing you didn't read these?" you ask, despite knowing the answer.

An exasperated and embarrassed sigh leaves his pink lips, "They were too confusing, they didn't help."

You can't help but laugh softly at his words. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed slightly, "Teddy it's lego. You just add one piece to another piece."

He rolls his eyes, the corner of his lips turning upwards, "Don't act like I should be ashamed for being bad at lego."

"Oh, you should definitely be ashamed."

"Well if you're so good at lego then help me already."

"I am and I will." you smile at him before grabbing some bricks from the pile and putting them together as the instructions say. You see him looking at the lego in your hands so you make sure to make the flower slower than usual, hoping he'll pay attention and be able to make one on his own. In a matter of minutes, you're holding a completed lego flower. "One down, eleven more to go."

"Eleven?!" he almost whines as he holds his head in his hands.

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a baby, it won't take that long." you shuffle closer to him to give him a better view of the instructions, "Come on, let's both make these and we'll get it done quicker." You're certain he'll slow you down but you know it'll be more fun doing it with him.

He lifts his head away from his hands and hesitantly grabs some pieces that match the ones printed on the instructions. After quite a bit of struggling and rebuilding (somehow he managed to completely break the lego into pieces just when he was almost finished), he successfully put together some lego.

He rolls his eyes when you start applauding and pretending to tear up, "I feel like you're patronising me."

"I can't imagine why."

You almost don't want to finish this bouquet. You haven't been able to spend genuine quality time with him in a long time. And you're not complaining about how pretty he looks in the evening sunlight, his face screwed together in concentration. But surprisingly it doesn't take as much time as you thought it would. Teddy places the last piece onto the rose which he adds to the bouquet and lifts it up hesitantly.

"Do you feel accomplished?" 

He thinks before answering (something you're still not used to), "No, not really."

"Great. So now what?" he just shrugs, staring intently at the bouquet. You stand up from the floor, "We should probably start making dinner."

“Wait,” he stands up, awkwardly looking down at the lego in his hands. He looks bashful as ever holding out the lego bouquet to you. “Fuck this is stupid. I wanted to make these for you, cause real flowers just die. And I wanted to thank you for still being with me and helping me through everything. You’re a beautiful fucking person who deserves flowers that don’t just die... I wanna be better than I used to be, and you're a big part of why. It took me literally dying to come to this, but I don't wanna die and not come back and leave you with a bunch of shitty memories of me being an asshole."

"You did this for me?" you can barely process his words as he places the lego in your hands, and his hands wrap around yours in the process.

"I-I know they're dumb, I just thought it would be cute and dumb." he sighs.

Your hands grip the lego tighter, your heart swelling, "It is cute Teddy. And I think you're really sweet for doing it. Even if I did most of the work."

"Can I make dinner for you? You won't need to help me at all, I promise."

You smile at him, "I'd love for you to make dinner for me." your hand reaches out to cup his cheek, "If you want to and not because you feel like you have to prove you're not an asshole." his eyes meet yours and his eyebrows knit together slightly, "I love you and whatever shitty memories you think I have of you being an asshole do not affect how much I love you."

He smiles at you, and you know it's a genuine smile, "I love you too."

#happy anniversary renfield #renfield #renfield 2023 #fanfiction #x reader #renfield x reader #teddy lobo #teddy lobo x reader #teddy lobo x gender neutral reader #teddy lobo x gn reader #ask #anon #froggywritesstuff #x reader fanfiction #teddy lobo fanfiction #tedward lobo #tedward lobo renfield

[alwritey-aphrodite]

OOOOO Can I get 27. Cloudy Skies with Jamie and Reader from There's Nothing Like This??

So happy to be writing for my babies again

2023 Fall Blurbs

Even though it’s been months since you’ve gotten up early for training, the second the alarm goes off, you’re practically shooting out of bed. You’ve taken to stretching and doing your physical therapy exercises when Jamie gets up to run, trying to get yourself used to early mornings and long days of training again.

“I think it’s going to rain,” you mutter in your sleep-addled voice as Jamie turns to his closest.

“It’s still dark, how can you tell?” He asks, and you just shrug, even though you know he can’t see you. After he finishes getting dressed, he places a kiss on your cheek and bounds down the stairs, much too excited to be awake and going for a run at four in the morning.

You take your morning slower, enjoying a warm tea and turning on your favorite show as you set yourself up on the floor, waking up your muscles and doing some breathing exercises before starting on the physical therapy. The sky outside is dark but cloudy, and you can tell it’s going to rain and today the sun won’t come out at all. You don’t mind, knowing that your coaches are alright if you miss a training or two, and the rain makes your ankle flare up.

Being proactive, you send Roy a text that says if it starts to rain you won’t be at training, but you’ll do as much as you can at home, and right after clicking send, thunder shakes the whole house. Rain starts to patter against the window not long after, and you’re trying to determine whether or not you should say “I told you so” when Jamie opens the front door, completely soaked.

“‘It’s still dark, how can you tell,’” you mock, attempting and failing to copy Jamie’s accent. He just smiles at you, wiping his dripping hair off his forehead. The rain seems to be slowing down from a pour to a drizzle, but the clouds don’t give any sign of leaving the slowly brightening sky.

Jamie returns from his shower to find you curled up on the couch, two protein smoothies waiting on the coffee table. He sits down next to you, reaching for his glass as you reach for your own.

“Staying home?” He asks, even though it’s fairly obvious that your plans to leave the couch today are limited.

“The rain always fucks with my ankle,” you shrug, trying to sound like this doesn’t kill you a little. A rest day is definitely needed, and you know this, because even though you aren’t going from 0 to 100, going from 0 to 50 is still pretty difficult.

“Want me to bring down the stuff for your exercises?” He inquires as he stands with his now empty glass, referencing your basket of equipment provided by your physical therapist so you can do all your exercises at home when you don’t have an appointment. You shake your head, and Jamie presses a kiss to your forehead before doing the dishes and heading off to training, leaving you to stare at the cloudy sky and try to convince yourself that rest is a good thing.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic

[can-youimagine]

Recovering (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)

Summary: Jack helps Aaron decide what to do

Word Count: 606

TW: hurt/comfort

Part of my Snippets of a Man in Love series!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to think about it,” Aaron says. “I’ll let you know by the end of the week.”

“Of course, take your time,” Strauss responds before hanging up.

Aaron sighs as he walks back into the living room. He sits beside you, draping his arm on the back of the couch behind you. “That was Strauss,” he says.

“Oh,” is all you answer with.

“She wanted to see how you were.”

“I doubt that was all,” you comment, closing your book. “What’s up?”

He doesn’t want to tell you why she called. He doesn’t want to ask what you think. Because, he knows what you’ll tell him, and he’s not sure it’s what he wants to hear. He looks in your eyes. The fear is nearly gone from them. Months of therapy seem to have worked. He wishes that he could be as open, as genuine, as you. He wishes that he hadn’t lied to his assigned therapist, even if it didn’t help him, it would give him more time with you. “They are offering an early retirement.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I’d think about it.”

“What’re you thinking?”

He’s honestly not sure. There’s no right or wrong decision here, and he hates it. “That I’m scared, of both.”

“What happens if you take it?”

He would give everything up for you. He would quit his job, sell everything, cut off his arm, all if you asked. “I’d spend a lot more time here. I’d get to take Jack to school. I’d bring you lunch at work.” The more he thinks about it, the more ideal he sounds. He can’t think of anything that would cause him not to take it.

“And what would you do during the day?”

There it is. There’s the hang-up. “I don’t know. I could be a lawyer again.” No, no he can’t, because he can make another enemy. He could get you into trouble again. “Or maybe, instead of leaving, I could transfer to a desk position.”

“You’d lose your mind.”

He wants to be insulted, but he can’t be. He knows you’re right, you always are. If he had to watch as his team went out, he’d never recover. He’d constantly feel like he’s missing out, that he’s not doing his job.

“So, you think I should stay.” His voice breaks as he says it. He can’t leave you again. He can’t risk your life again. What happens to you if something happens to him? He can’t leave you here alone. Well, more alone than you have been. He feels your arms wrap around him, and he melts into your body. “I can’t risk it.”

Kissing the side of his head, you assure him that nothing that happened was his fault. You always do.

“Daddy?” Jack’s feet patter across the floor. “What’s wrong?”

Aaron tries to pull himself together. “I’ve got to make a hard choice,” he answers.

Jack pulls himself onto the couch between the two of you. “Can I help?”

Aaron smiles. You’ve done a marvelous job raising Jack. “No, buddy, I think I have to make this decision on my own.”

“Can I make you less sad?”

Aaron pulls Jack into a hug. “You always do that.” He glances up at you. “You both do.”

Smiling at the praise, Jack comes up with an idea. “What if I give you Cam to take with you when you go to work? He always makes me happy. Then, he can make you happy, and you’ll be happy because you’ll remember me.”

That seals the deal for Aaron. “I think that’s a great idea, bud.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #hotch x reader #hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch hotchner x reader #aaron hotch hotchner imagine

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Chapter Twenty-Seven (Part 2)

Jude is on Skype when I get to Clontarf. I hear his smooth, low voice reverberate through the walls of his bedroom and I stand there for several moments trying to gauge whether or not he’s having the kind of conversation that I can just barge in on. I hear him laugh and say something that sounds casual rather than job-interview-like, so I push through the door. 

“Oh, Evie just got here,” He says to the person on call with him, “Do you want to say hi?”

Who wants to say hi to me? I gingerly place my bag onto his chair and perch on the bed with him. A wide, round face beams at me through the screen. “Well hello there,” the woman says, “gosh, what a beautiful girl!”

“Thank you,” I say self-consciously, tucking my hair behind my ears, and Jude puts his arm around me to kiss my temple hello. “This is my girlfriend, Evie, and Evie, this is my great aunt Maureen.”

“Oh, from America,” I say, which makes her laugh for some reason. 

“Well I’m happy to know he’s mentioned me!” She says, and she has a similar accent to him, or, maybe the reverse of it. An Irish woman who held fiercely to her Dublin syllables even after decades in America, even though that southwestern twang has crept in along the edges and slowed it all down so that she doesn’t sound in a hurry anymore. I bet it’s too damn hot in New Mexico to do anything at speed, including talking. 

“When will you come and visit?” She says then, and I don’t know if she’s speaking to him or me or us both, but I let Jude answer her while I sit there and feel like an alien. Nobody knows that I just bawled my eyes out at my therapist’s office and said that I said I constantly think about dying. 

“God, we’d love to. Maybe later in the year, do you think?” Jude is saying, “You know I’ve really been missing America lately.”

“‘Cause it’s been so long since you’ve come! Come for Thanksgiving, won’t you? I think it’d be perfect with all the kids around, although, you know, I can hardly call them kids when they’ve all got kids of their own. Evie, have you ever had a thanksgiving?”

“No, Maureen, I haven’t,”

“You’ll love it. Love it,” and in case I have any doubt about how much I’ll love it she and Jude proceed to have a lengthy conversation about all the food they used to cook together, pumpkin this and pumpkin that, I’ve never had pumpkin anything, and the alien feeling intensifies. 

The conversation moves onto other things then, and I get restless when Maureen starts asking Jude about his job search. He tells her what’s been happening, the interview with a prop place near Portsmouth that he didn’t get a good feeling from, his correspondence with another studio in London, and the interview lined up for Tuesday at another, and then I wait for her to say the inevitable, which she does, “Why don’t you just come to America?”

He starts telling her why it’s not an option right now while she reminds him of all the things he used to love about it before he was ripped out of his precious homeland by his evil parents and then I get off the bed and start picking items of his clothing off the floor and folding them away. I’m aware that obsessive cleaning is what my mother does when my father has done something to piss her off, and consider the value of bringing this fact to my next therapy session with Helen. Maybe she’ll have something enlightening to say about it. 

What’s so great about America anyway? I toss a rogue sock into his hamper. What do they have that we don’t have? Aside from like, semi automatic machine guns and UFOs? There’s so much stuff on this floor. I scoop up a pile of books and plop them onto his desk. Just because he’s American doesn’t mean that he has to just go back there. Why do people keep saying that? He doesn’t want to. He wants to move to London so I can’t see why people can’t just shut up about it. He lived in Berlin for four years, for God’s sake, so why is it inconceivable that he might see himself in-

“Evie, why are you cleaning my room?”

“Hm?”

Jude snaps his laptop shut, “I don’t want you to clean my room.”

“Did you hang up on Maureen?”

“No we said goodbye,” His eyebrow twitches, “She said goodbye to you too.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear her,” I grab a Nike runner and then the other once I’ve located it under a discarded sweatshirt.

“Um, you can stop cleaning if you want.”

“Okay,” I find a place for them and stash them neatly at the bottom of the open wardrobe and feel his eyes on me. 

“You just kind of walked away mid conversation,” he points out delicately. 

“Well, it was your conversation to have. I didn’t think I was going to just, like, walk in on like that. I would have waited if I’d known. Gone for a walk along the seafront or something.”

“I didn’t know how much you didn’t want to talk to Maureen, honestly.” I glance at him and he looks hurt, which is too much to bear at the moment, so I grab a fistful of pencils and shove them back into an upturned pencil case by their side. “Evie, stop. What’s the matter?”

“Well I just had my first therapy session, and you didn’t ask about it.”

“I haven’t had a chance to, c’mere, tell me about it.”

“You knew I was there and you knew when I’d be back and you talked to your great aunt anyway.”

“She called me. I wasn’t going to not pick up on her, she doesn’t call me often.”

“Okay, well…” I can’t think of anywhere else to put my anger and end up channelling it into the zip of the pencil case, which won’t close around the pencils I’ve shoved into it even though there are way too many of them to fit. Jude has the audacity to take the whole thing out of my hand. “Stop cleaning,” he says firmly. “What is wrong? Come here, please, tell me about your session.”

“You think I’m crazy,” I say, because I’ve just been acting crazy. 

“I don’t. Come here.”

I don’t budge. 

“Evie.”

“Why is everyone insisting that you move to America?”

“What? Nobody is insisting that, why are you saying that?”

“Maureen just did.”

“She means it as a joke, she doesn’t think I’m actually going to move back, it’s just that she misses me, I suppose,” He runs his fingers through the front of his hair, “I was like her kid for a while and then I moved away, and I don’t go and visit enough, she’s just… well it’s just wishful thinking.”

“My cousin’s girlfriend said it too.”

He makes a face, “Your cousin’s girlfriend doesn’t know anything about me.”

“She knows that they make movies in LA.”

“Yeah, so does everybody, no prizes to her for that one.”

“I just think that you’re going to change your mind about London and you’re going to contact a studio in LA, it seems like an obvious thing to do.” I’m wound so tightly that I can’t even imagine trying to move my body. My hand is still frozen in a claw like it’s trying to force up the zip of the pencil case that’s now sitting on the bed out of reach, and Jude’s eyebrows fly up incredulously. “You told me to contact a studio in LA.”

“Have you done it?”

“I’m a bit afraid to say that I have.”

“Oh right.”

“For feedback. It was your idea.”

“Well you never said that you contacted them, it’s like you were keeping it a secret from me.”

“I would have if you’d given me a chance to talk to you, but you just came in here and started picking fights with me.”

“I don’t want a fight.”

“Then quit picking one.”

“How many places did you contact?”

He sighs, “Come on, Evie.” “No, how many?”

“Four, I think.”

“Four?”

“Yeah, four, and they haven’t responded yet, so there’s nothing to report back.”

“Okay, well, maybe they won’t.”

He leans onto an elbow and stares down at his nails, shaking his head, and I feel threatened by this. Is he angry with me? Disappointed?

“What?” I demand shakily. 

He purses his lips. 

“Jude, what?”

“Would you be pleased if none of the LA studios ever responded to me?”

“Would I be-”

“I mean if I sent emails to those places with a long enthusiastic letter tailored to each individual one, attached my portfolio that I’ve worked myself to the bone on for the last year, and merely asked for their feedback on it, would it make you happy if they all ignored me?”

I’m flabbergasted. That’s obviously not what I meant. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

“Okay because it just feels like you’re pretty relieved by the thought that none of them might want anything to do with me, and like, for the record, it’s not like I think I’m good enough to work for them, okay? I’m not that delusional, but at this point it feels like I’ll take any help I can get, because nothing is working out. I’ve applied for dozens of jobs this summer and I’ve heard nothing from the vast majority of them. They don’t even reply to me to say I’m not suitable most of the time, that’s how shitty they all think I am, so if the interview with that London place doesn’t pan out next week and nobody from LA comes back to me with a shred of guidance on my portfolio then I really don’t know what I’m going to do. It’s looking like I’ll end up getting some shit job in a fucking Aldi just so I have something to do with my time so it’s really great to know that you’re gunning for me to fail.” 

He flips onto his back with the heels of his hands in his eye sockets and lets out a groan of despair, “I’m not used to failure. I don’t know how to handle myself.”

I want to crumple to the floor in anguish. I am dreadful. Perhaps I should leave town and change my name and save him the effort of breaking up with me, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know- I should be more supportive. I don’t want you to fail. I only want the opposite.”

“Why did you come over if you were going to be like this? I was looking forward to seeing you and hearing about your session, and now…” He trails off, but he needn’t say more because I know what he means. I’ve taken what could have been a good moment and soured it because of the inherent ways that I am. This is the first crack, I think, the moment that I will look back on and think, yes, that’s when we both knew unequivocally that I’d make him unhappy. Perhaps, I think, I should get back on the bus and go back to Helen and tell her that I’ve changed my mind and I’d like to take pills after all, because being numb and sedated seems like a nice idea all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry Jude,” I whisper again, and I perch on the edge of the bed with my back to him because I can sense he’s doing that thing he does when he’s upset, where he shuts himself off to me and builds a wall around himself, and I don’t want to see that glazed, stony look on his face ever again. 

Except he isn’t doing that. His hand is on my shoulder, “Evie, c’mere.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry, can I have you?”

“Have me?”

“Yeah I just want to hold you for a while. I don’t want to be like this. I’ve had enough relationships where I fight, I don’t want it with you, please.”

This is new, I think, as he bundles me into his arms and lays down with me so that my face is nestled against his collarbone, the flutter of his breath in my hair, and there is nothing to look at so I close my eyes and breathe him in. “I’ve upset you,” I murmur.

“I’m alright, it’s just been a weird time,” he plants an almost impossibly tender kiss on the crown of my head, “and I’m edgy.” 

“I know. It’s fair enough. I really didn’t mean that I want you to fail , I want everything for you, I want you to succeed and I know you will, I think that’s why I’m scared, because the possibilities are so endless and your life could take you anywhere-”

“I don’t want anywhere I want here.”

Here feels pretty good, with our legs wound together and his heartbeat beneath my ear. The warmth and darkness he’s made for me in his arms is like a cocoon that I never want to emerge from. He squeezes me as tightly as his restraint will allow him, “Christ,” he says, “I love you so much it’s nuts.”

“I love you too.”

“It’s never like this, not with anyone else. I’ve never felt like this before. I want you to know how serious I am.”

“So intense,” I laugh into his chest and he squeezes an involuntary sound out of me and I squeak like a child’s toy. 

“I love you too much to fight with you. Let’s not do that again.”

“That’d mean I’d have to stop being insane, I think.”

“You’re not insane, don’t say that.”

“My therapist said that.”

“No she did not.”

“Okay,” I chuckle, “She didn’t.”

“What��did she say?”

But I’m too cosy to go there right now. I snuggle up against him, and it’s the kind of embrace that makes it easy to forget that hardship and badness exists. “Hmm, I’ll tell you in a sec,” I promise, and bask in blissful feelings for just five more minutes. 

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#lucky girl part 3