#but it really do be the worst to take off :((

[pucksandpower]

Disturbing the Peace

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Max Verstappen x Vettel!Reader

Summary: an environmental activist disturbs the carefully constructed peace of Max’s life and turns his whole world on its head (or in which environmentalism and being a menace both run in the Vettel family)

Max strides across the tarmac towards his sleek private jet, ready to head up to the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes after a weekend of relaxation back home in Monaco. But he stops short as his eyes land on a cluster of protesters glued to the ground around his jet’s landing gear.

A gruff security guard approaches Max. “Sorry sir, we’ve got a bit of a situation here with these Greenpeace loons. They snuck past the perimeter and glued themselves down before we could stop them.”

Max scowls as he reads the words Fossil Fuels = Destruction scrawled across one of the protester’s shirts. He storms over, fists clenched at his sides.

“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?” he fumes, glaring at the seated activists. “You realize you’re costing me tens of thousands just by delaying my flight?”

“That’s kind of the point, bro,” one long-haired guy shoots back with a snide grin. “You’re one of the worst celebrity polluters on the planet.”

But Max’s gaze is drawn irresistibly to you — a beautiful young woman with fierce eyes and hair whipping around your face in the coastal wind. There’s an intensity and passion burning behind your stare that Max finds himself unexpectedly captivated by.

You rise gracefully to your feet, the only one not glued down, and take a step towards the fuming Formula 1 star. “Max Verstappen. Out of all celebrities last year, you were the 20th highest personal polluter. Even higher than Taylor Swift.”

There’s an unmistakable blend of reproach and attraction in your tone that throws Max off balance. He scoffs, trying to regain his bravado.

“What, are you stalking me or something? And I’m supposed to care what some random activist chick thinks?”

You level him with a pointed look. “Not some random chick. Y/N Vettel. Sebastian’s sister. And yes, you should care, because this is your planet too.”

Max blinks in surprise at the familiar surname, now recognizing the resemblance to his former competitor.

Oh fuck, not this girl.

He can’t resist giving you another once-over, taking in your lithe frame, the jut of your chin as you stare him down defiantly.

An amused smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. “Vettel, huh? I should’ve known. You two do have a thing for causing drama wherever you go.”

The dig lands but you don’t rise to the bait, shaking your head minutely. “This has nothing to do with drama, Max. It’s about doing what’s right for the environment before it’s too late to save it.”

“Oh, spare me the self-righteous preaching,” Max scoffs, reflexively going on the defensive even as a small part of him admires the conviction in your voice. “Like your jet-setting around to protest events is really doing the planet any favors.”

You raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Jet-setting? I take public transit everywhere. Planes are the exception for international events, and I always buy carbon offsets.”

Max feels a flicker of grudging respect at that before quickly stamping it down. He folds his arms across his chest, fixing you with a challenging stare. “Yeah? Well what about your clothes? I’m guessing that shirt was made from petroleum-based synthetic fabrics.”

A look of surprise crosses your face before you recover with a small shake of your head. “It’s actually bamboo. Petroleum-free and sustainably sourced.”

“Your shoes then,” Max presses, gaze dropping to the canvas flats on your feet.

You lift one demonstratively. “Recycled rubber.”

His eyes narrow as he struggles to find another example to poke holes in your lifestyle. You watch him search with ill-disguised amusement, finally taking pity.

“Listen Max, I’m not saying I’m perfect. Nobody is. The point is to keep trying to do better where we can.” Your eyes hold sincerity and — though Max is loath to admit it — wisdom beyond your years. “But you’re in a position of power. With all your money and influence, just think what you could do for sustainability initiatives. How many trees you could plant or clean energy projects you could fund with just a fraction of what you spend on private flights and gas-guzzling supercars every year.”

Max shifts, discomfited by the practicality of your words. It’s harder to be glib and dismissive when you’re not ranting incoherently about the planet dying, but making reasoned arguments. Especially with that intense, scrutinizing gaze fixed so squarely on him.

He clears his throat, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “Yeah, that’s cute and all. But then who would keep all those gas station attendants employed? I’m doing them a public service, really.”

The ghost of a smirk curves your lips in a way that makes Max’s chest tighten unexpectedly. “How very philanthropic of you.”

He has to look away from the spark of challenge and — yes, flirtation — in your expression. Max isn’t sure when this stopped being a confrontation and turned into some sort of tense back-and-forth bristling with inexplicable chemistry, but it’s rapidly becoming unnerving.

Seeming to sense you’ve flustered him, you lean in conspiratorially. “You know Max, for someone who acts like such an edgy bad boy, you’re not so tough. I think deep down you know I’m right.”

Max’s jaw ticks stubbornly even as his cheeks burn at your proximity, at the sweet floral scent of your shampoo drifting across the scant distance between you. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

In a daring move, you reach out and lay a hand on his arm. His breath hitches just slightly at the contact as you hold his gaze intently. “Then help me understand. Join me for dinner sometime and we can talk more about this over something other than just shouting at each other.”

The gentle touch, combined with the sincerity shining warmly through those big widened eyes, takes Max completely off guard. He opens his mouth, then closes it, abruptly unsure how to respond to such an olive branch extended from his vehement critic just moments ago.

Before he can formulate a reply, the wail of sirens pierces the air. A police cruiser pulls up as four officers jump out, advancing menacingly towards your compatriots still glued to the pavement.

“Alright, that’s enough here,” the barrel-chested sergeant barks gruffly. “You’re all under arrest for criminal trespassing and failure to obey airport security.”

You hurriedly step between the officers and your fellow protesters, palms raised placatingly. “Please officers, don’t arrest them! I was the one who orchestrated this, I’ll go quietly. Just let them go.”

Max’s heart does a strange little flutter at the selfless gesture, at the protective way you shield your group from the aggression of the snarling police officers.

Before he can think better of it, he’s striding forward and planting himself at your side, a steadying hand on your arm. “Actually officers, I’m afraid I can’t let you detain this woman.”

You blink up at him in surprise. The lead sergeant looks far from impressed, folding his beefy arms across his chest.

“And just who the hell are you to make that call?”

Max lifts his chin defiantly. “Max Verstappen. I’m sure your supervisors would love to hear how the biggest name in racing got falsely arrested on the tarmac because one of their officers couldn’t exercise some restraint.”

The sergeant’s eyes widen almost comically and he takes an unconscious step back, disarmed by Max’s threat to leverage his fame and money. “Oh. Er … Mr. Verstappen, sir. I’m sure, um, we can sort this out ...”

Max cuts him off with an imperious wave, turning his attention fully to you. Your expression is a mixture of shock, curiosity, and — though Max certainly doesn’t dare name it — just maybe a tiny flicker of attraction in return.

“You asked me to try and understand your perspective. Fine, I’ll take you up on that dinner.” He looks you squarely in the eye, expression unreadable. “But you have to promise to hear me out too. No judgements, no protests. Just two people trying to figure out how to make the world better in their own ways.”

You stare searchingly at him for a prolonged moment. Then a slow, wondering smile spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes in the most disarmingly beautiful way. You give a small nod.

“Deal. I’ll keep an open mind if you do.”

Max finds himself returning the smile before he can stop himself. “Deal.”

He doesn’t know why this odd, passionate woman has gotten under his skin so quickly. Or why he suddenly cares what some environmental activist thinks of his choices. But as you take his proffered hand and he helps you step carefully away from the cluster of protestors, Max feels an unfamiliar stirring of hope. Maybe there’s more to this situation — and to you — than meets the eye.

The sergeant looks between you two skeptically, but seems to think better of pressing the issue further with Max’s steely gaze trained on him. With a resigned sigh, he waves his officers back.

“Alright, we’re going to let this one go. But I better not catch you trespassing and causing problems again, you hear?” He jabs a meaty finger at you in warning.

You just smile serenely, still not releasing Max’s hand. “No worries, officer. I have a dinner to get ready for.”

As the police pull away, you turn that brilliant grin on Max again. He finds himself returning it almost against his will, captivated by the fire that dances behind your eyes. For the first time, he wonders if going toe-to-toe with an idealistic environmental warrior might actually be worth momentarily putting his own deeply-held beliefs aside.

Stepping in close, you surprise him by leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Thanks for playing along back there. I owe you one, Max Verstappen.”

The warm breath tickling his neck sends an unexpected shiver down his spine. You pull back with a mischievous wink before turning and rejoining your fellow activists, hips swaying in a tantalizing way that has Max’s gaze lingering perhaps a moment too long.

As he watches you go, Max can’t shake the strangest sense that he’s suddenly entered uncharted territory. And that this is only the beginning of you continually barging into his life and turning everything deliciously upside down.

***

Max lets out a grunt as he heaves the heavy barbell up over his head, sweat beading on his brow from the intense weight training session. After securing the bar back on its rack, he straightens and grabs a towel to wipe his face.

His phone starts ringing from across the room, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Max debates letting it go to voicemail but finally relents with a resigned sigh, scooping up the device.

“Yeah, hello?”

There’s a brief silence before an automated voice responds. “This is a call from a corrections facility. To accept charges and connect this call, press 1.”

Max frowns, caught off guard. He presses 1 warily, curiosity getting the better of him. The line clicks and then a new, very familiar voice comes through.

“Max! Oh thank god you picked up.” It’s you, sounding mildly frazzled but still unmistakably your unique blend of passion and composure.

A surprised laugh escapes Max’s lips before he can stop it. “You? Calling me from jail? This I’ve got to hear.”

“Don’t sound so delighted,” you chide, though he can hear the smile in your voice. “Yes, I’m in a bit of a situation here. You remember the big event we had been planning to protest that oil baron’s ridiculous superyacht docking in Monaco?”

Max raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it. “The one where you said, and I quote, ‘No Max, you can’t come. Your pouty little rich boy face is just going to distract everyone from the real injustice we’re protesting here.’“

“... Yes, that one.” You don’t miss a beat. “Well, we may have taken things a step too far. The police showed up and arrested all of us for trespassing and disturbing the peace.”

“You don’t say?” Max leans back against the weight bench, a teasing lilt to his voice. “So let me get this straight — you got yourself chucked in the slammer for causing your signature environmentalist dramatics, and now you’re calling me to help get you out?”

There’s a slight pause before you respond, tone turning softer. “I didn’t want to call Seb. You know how he gets — he’ll just give me that disappointed head shake and lecture about being more responsible. Acting like I’m still a reckless teenager instead of a grown woman fighting for a noble cause.”

Max feels a small pang at the uncharacteristic wistfulness in your voice. For all your sparring back and forth, he knows how much your activist work means to you. And how tirelessly you dedicate yourself to it, often at the expense of other aspects of life.

Chewing his lip, he considers his next words carefully. “I may give you endless shit about being a tree-hugging rebel without a cause, but you know I actually respect what you’re doing, right? Even if your methods are … shall we say, dramatic.”

You let out a small surprised huff of laughter at that. “Did Max Verstappen just pay me something resembling a genuine compliment? Aww, you really do care.”

Max rolls his eyes at the teasing, though his lips quirk in a reluctant smile. Something about your back-and-forth banter has a way of putting him at ease in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still holding out hope this is just a pesky phase before you eventually come to your senses and realize the error of your ways.”

“Fat chance, hot shot.” The warm amusement in your tone is impossible to miss. “But anyway, since you’re in such a generous mood — think you can do me a favor and come bail me out?”

Max hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, bringing you home with me seems like a surefire way to get your activist cooties all over my ridiculously expensive non-vegan furniture.”

“Max ...” You let out an exaggerated whine that has him fighting back another grin. “Come on, I’m begging you here! I’ll be a model prisoner, I swear.”

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Max pushes off from the bench and starts grabbing his shoes and keys. “Fine, fine. Twist my arm, why don’t you? I’ll be there in twenty minutes to ply your jailers with my generous pile of my money and spring you from the clink.”

You let out a squeal of delight that has his heart doing an odd little flip despite himself. “You’re the best, Max! Seriously, I owe you huge after this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to make a habit of it. This is a one-time kind of deal.”

The two of you say your brief goodbyes and Max hangs up, head shaking in bemusement. He’s not sure when his friendship with the passionate eco-warrior became so effortlessly comfortable, bantering back and forth like a long-married couple.

But he also can’t deny the way his pulse kicks up just slightly at the thought of seeing you again — windswept hair, fiery eyes, and that bright smile that still catches him off guard every time it’s directed his way.

As Max jogs out to the garage to grab his Ferrari for the short drive to the station, he vehemently tells himself it’s merely because he’s intrigued by the novelty of your clashing personalities. That your relentless conviction is a fascinating change of pace from the empty glamor that usually surrounds him.

But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers that he’s lying to himself. That there’s something magnetically addictive about you and your tireless ability to see the world through a different lens than his own. Something that challenges him, stimulates him, reels him in over and over again no matter how much he pretends to resist.

He quickly banishes the thought, jaw setting in stubborn determination. Max Verstappen isn’t the type to get pulled into a girl’s orbit, no matter how intriguing she might seem on the surface. He’ll bail your reckless ass out of jail, have another enjoyable round of opposition-attracts banter, and then carry on with his usual life of racing and living by his own well-established rules.

Right?

The sleek crimson SF90 Stradale tears through the winding Monaco streets, wind whipping through Max’s hair as he pushes the pedal towards the floor. The adrenaline pumping through his veins feels vaguely familiar to the thrill of a heated race — though he refuses to dwell too deeply on why bailing out an eco-terrorist gives him that same edge-of-the-seat excitement.

He pulls up to the modest local jail in record time, the guard at the entrance giving him a skeptical once-over before waving him through. No doubt recognizing the signature Ferrari and flashy persona of the championship-winning driver.

Max swaggers up to the front desk where a bored-looking officer sits shuffling through paperwork. The young man startles at his approach, shooting to attention with widened eyes.

“Oh! Mr. Verstappen, sir! How can I help you today?”

Puffing out his chest just slightly, Max gives the officer his most imposing stare. “Yeah, I’m here to post bail for one of your … residents. Y/N Vettel.”

The cop’s brow furrows as he scans the intake files. “Ah yes, here she is. Environmental activist, part of that big protest at the marina. Disturbing the peace, trespassing, and a few of them even got hit with property damage charges from graffiti.”

Max scowls, that damned protective streak rearing its ugly head again before he can stop it. “I’m only posting bail for Y/N Vettel. The hell did she get charged with?”

“Just peaceful trespassing and disturbing the peace.” The cop frowns contemplatively. “Well, and resisting arrest when she tried to stop us cuffing one of her friends. But that’s about it.”

Rubbing his temples with a pained sigh, Max can’t resist a rueful grin. “Yeah, that tracks. Listen, what’s it gonna cost me to grab her so I can get out of here?”

“For those charges? €1500 bond should cover it.”

Max scoffs at the paltry sum, already pulling out his monogrammed money clip and peeling off a stack of euros. “Whatever, here’s double. Keep the change for your trouble.”

The cop’s eyes widen almost comically, but he knows better than to question Max freaking Verstappen. Hurriedly taking the bills, he produces some paperwork for Max to sign and process the transaction.

“Alright Mr. Verstappen, just need your signature here and here. And if you’ll allow me to get your fingerprints as well for the release forms ...”

Max begrudgingly complies, wanting to get this circus over with as quickly as possible. He taps his foot impatiently as the officer takes his prints and finalizes everything in the computer system.

“Okay, all set. I’ll have one of the guards bring Miss Vettel around to the release lobby. Might be a few minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry it up,” Max mutters distractedly.

He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut for a brief moment as he tries to compose himself. Your voice rings in his ears, that unmistakable mixture of sheepishness and determination that seems to sum up your entire persona.

Goddamn it, why did you have to call him? Why couldn’t you have just phoned up your doting big brother like a normal person instead of dragging Max into this? Part of him wants to be annoyed at how easily you’re able to play him, batting those big eyes and pleading for his help like you knew he would give in.

But the thought of leaving you to stew in a dingy jail cell somehow makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Almost like he’d be letting you down in some weird, convoluted way. Ridiculous as the notion is, Max can’t deny this increasing pull you seem to have over him.

His eyes fly open as the door to the cellblocks finally opens, heavy footsteps approaching. Max takes an automatic step forward, pulse kicking up in anticipation despite himself.

And then you’re there. Hair tousled, t-shirt and jeans covered in smears of dirt and grass stains from the protest scuffle. But those defiant eyes are still ablaze, jaw set stubbornly as the guard leads you out in handcuffs.

“Max! You’re actually here!” Your face splits into a bright, surprised grin at the sight of him.

He tries and fails to suppress his own answering smile, raking an admittedly appreciative gaze over you from head to toe. “What, you didn’t think I’d show up for my favorite little jailbird?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, you flash him a sly look from under your lashes. “I don’t know, I had my doubts Mr. Bigshot Racer would sully his palms rescuing little old me.”

“Well, you know what they say.” Max steps in close, dropping his voice to a faux-seductive murmur as he leans towards you. Your eyes widen infinitesimally but you hold his gaze, seemingly transfixed. “I just can’t seem to quit you.”

You bite your lip in a badly suppressed grin at his corny line. “Did you seriously just incorrectly quote Brokeback Mountain at me right now?”

“Maybe.” He rocks back on his heels with a shameless wink. “Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”

A delicate blush blooms across your cheeks in a way that has Max’s heart stuttering unexpectedly. The guard clears his throat loudly, shattering the moment between you.

“Erm, right. If you’ll just sign here for Miss Vettel’s release ...” He offers a clipboard to Max.

Tearing his eyes away from you with concentrated effort, Max scrawls his signature across the form. You watch him intently, an unreadable look flickering across your features for just a moment before the guard undoes your cuffs with a loud click.

You immediately bring your newly freed hands together, rubbing at the chafed skin of your wrists gingerly. Max’s jaw tightens at the sight.

“You good?” His tone is gruff with concern despite himself.

Glancing up, you give him a reassuring smile and nod. “All good, just a little tender. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Something about your easy dismissal of the discomfort rankles Max in a way he can’t fully explain. Like he wants to grab your hands, bring them to his lips to inspect the damage more closely. The sudden urge catches him off guard and he quickly tamps it down, fists clenching at his sides.

The guard seems oblivious to the undercurrent between you, simply giving a curt nod and motioning towards the exit. “Right then, off you go. And try to stay out of trouble from now on, Miss Vettel.”

You shoot the cop your signature wry grin. “No promises, officer.”

Rolling his eyes skyward, Max grabs your elbow lightly and ushers you towards the doors before you can cause any more scenes. You fall into step beside him easily, shoulders brushing in a way that has his skin tingling with awareness.

As the two of you step out into the late afternoon sunlight, you turn to him with those warm eyes that never fail to set his heart racing just a little faster.

“I really do owe you one, Max. Thank you for coming to my rescue, even after everything“

He gives an exaggerated huff, fighting a smile. “Well, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta bail out all the reckless idiots who can’t stay out of handcuffs for five minutes.”

You laugh brightly, punching his arm in playful admonishment. A spark of electricity seems to jolt between you at the contact and Max freezes almost imperceptibly, mesmerized by the radiant smile you’re beaming up at him.

In that moment, with the sunlight catching in your hair and reflecting those fierce, captivating eyes, Max is struck by how breathtakingly beautiful you are. Not just physically, though that’s certainly undeniable. But the whole intoxicating aura of your idealism, your passion, your relentless fighting spirit that leaves him in a constant state of incredulous attraction no matter how much he rails against it.

You cock your head slightly, drawing him out of his reverie. “Max? You still in there?”

“Huh?” He blinks dazedly before recovering with a shake of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets in what he desperately hopes is a casual gesture. “Yeah, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”

Your brow furrows in concern as you study his face intently. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Max clears his throat, avoiding your piercing gaze. He nods jerkily towards the car glinting fetchingly in the sun. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they decide to re-arrest your ass for loitering.”

As the two of you make your way across the parking lot, Max resolutely ignores the persistent voice whispering that he’s in deeper than he’s willing to admit this time. That you might just be addictive enough to become something he can’t simply shake off when he’s had his fill.

But rather than finding the notion disconcerting like it should be, he finds himself fighting the strangest flicker of excitement at the prospect instead.

***

The Monaco paddock is a dizzying whirlwind of activity as teams and personnel rush about in their usual pre-race frenzy. Max weaves through the chaos towards his driver room, helmet tucked under his arm.

He pauses as a familiar voice reaches his ears — that unmistakable passionate cadence that always has a way of stopping him in his tracks these days. Max turns to see you holding court in the middle of a cluster of wide-eyed engineers and PR reps, gesticulating emphatically.

“... and that’s just the start! We also need to look into renewable energy sources to power the entire paddock operations. Sustainable cooking practices in the hospitality suites. Comprehensive recycling and composting initiatives. Not to mention overhauling the travel logistics for a lower carbon footprint when we’re shipping this whole circus around the globe every other week.”

One of the hapless reps looks shellshocked, struggling to keep up as he scribbles notes furiously. “I … yes, of course, Miss Vettel. We’ll look into all of that right away. Anything else?”

You fix the poor man with one of your signature intense stares, full lower lip catching between your teeth as you consider. Max feels his heart skip at the seemingly insignificant gesture, cursing under his breath.

“Well, we haven’t even touched on sustainable sourcing for uniforms and merchandising yet. Or the complete overhaul needed for fuel compositions and racing technology to align with a realistic net-zero roadmap.” Your eyes spark with renewed fervor. “But we can circle back on those aspects later. For now I want you to-”

Sensing an opening, the bewildered rep seizes his chance to politely extricate himself. “You know what, Miss Vettel? Why don’t I go gather all my notes on your suggestions so far and we can regroup for a more structured meeting on next steps? I’ll, uh, be in touch!”

He scampers off before you can protest, leaving the rest of the staffers gaping at you with a combination of terror and admiration. You just shake your head bemusedly, rolling your eyes skyward as you catch sight of Max watching from across the way.

“What?” You shrug innocently at his raised eyebrow, the very picture of angelic nonchalance. “Someone’s got to light a fire under these people if we want to actually get some sustainability practices in place.”

Max bites back a grin, sauntering over with exaggerated slowness. “Is that what you call demolishing that poor rep’s entire understanding of the world? Just lighting a fire?”

“Hey, we’re not being paid to settle for complacency and half-measures,” you shoot back without a shred of remorse. “I got hired to shake this whole damn organization to its core until it goes fully carbon neutral. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

Your unapologetic defiance never fails to send a peculiar thrill zinging through Max’s veins. He rakes an admittedly assessing gaze over your crisp pantsuit and loosely swept updo — quite a change from the scruffy activist’s getup he’s so used to seeing you in.

“You clean up nice, I’ll give you that,” he muses teasingly. “Who knew you could look so respectable in professional garb?”

Rather than rise to the bait, you simply flash him a wink and smoothing your hands over the fitted blazer, drawing his gaze helplessly to the enticing curves beneath the tailored lines. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”

Heat prickles at the base of Max’s neck at the unexpected flirtiness, his tongue suddenly thick and useless in his mouth. He quickly masks the moment of flustered silence with a dismissive scoff.

“Great, so in addition to harassing race staff you’re assaulting my senses too? Good to know where your priorities lie, Vettel.”

You laugh easily, canting a hip as you fix him with those dancing eyes that never fail to set his heart racing. “If you can’t handle a little playful banter, Verstappen, you’d better get used to keeping your distance now that we’re colleagues for the foreseeable future.”

The words slam into Max with surprising force, hitting a little too close to the bone. Unconsciously, his gaze darts over you in a way that feels far too intimate for mere colleagues. Lingering on the delicate curve of your neck as you tip your head back, the lush pout of your lips, the swaying tendrils of hair escaping your updo which he inexplicably longs to brush back into place.

All at once the reality of your new role truly sinks in — that he’ll be seeing you at every single race from now until god knows when. The thought fills Max with a dizzying blend of elation and trepidation.

On one hand, the prospect of having you perpetually woven through his life in this shiny new professional capacity is enough to make his pulse kick up in giddy anticipation.

But on the other, it terrifies him to his core. You have an uncanny ability to constantly keep him off-balance, as endlessly fascinating as you are maddening. This casual flirtation between you has taken on undercurrents he’s no longer certain he wants to shy away from acknowledging. At least, not when the thought of shutting it down fills Max with a hollow ache he can’t put words to.

He’s pulled from his spiraling reflections as an impeccably dressed older man in a crisp suit materializes at your side, placing a wizened hand on your shoulder.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Vettel! I was just coming to fetch you for our preliminary sustainability council meeting with the rest of the advisory board.” The man’s eyes twinkle with unmistakable approval as he regards you. “Although from the looks of it you’ve already started getting the lay of the land around here and, ah, asserting your new directives shall we say?”

You shoot him a conspiratorial grin, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “Let’s just say I’ve had a productive first day on the job so far, Mr. Haywood. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Max recognizes the man as Stephen Haywood, one of the senior F1 board members and the person primarily responsible for bringing you on in this ground-breaking new eco initiative. He chuckles indulgently at your quip.

“That’s exactly what we’re counting on from you, my dear. Ruffling some feathers and dragging this whole operation into the future, come hell or high water. I have the utmost confidence you’re going to revolutionize Formula 1 in ways we can’t even conceive yet.”

You beam at the praise, visibly swelling with determination. Haywood gives your shoulder another squeeze before gesturing down the paddock. “Shall we? We’ve got a long agenda ahead to tackle your big plans.”

“Absolutely,” you say eagerly, turning to follow him. But not before pausing to shoot Max one last heated look from over your shoulder, dropping your voice to a sultry murmur. “Don’t go too far, Verstappen. I’ve still got plenty more to say to you later.”

And with a tantalizing wink, you sashay away after Haywood in that maddeningly hypnotic way that you know reduces Max to an incoherent mess every time. All he can do is gape after your retreating figure, the sway of those hips in that perfectly tailored skirt rendering him utterly useless.

As you disappear around the corner, Max feels the dam inside him finally burst in a torrential flood of overwhelming emotion. Everything suddenly clicks into startling clarity in one shuddering epiphany that leaves him unmoored:

He’s in love with you.

Desperately, all-consumingly, recklessly in love in a way he never saw coming and is wholly unprepared to process. All those months pretending you were just an amusing diversion, a source of intrigue and refreshing friction in his otherwise orderly life. All the times he battled against the obvious chemistry simmering between you, tried to downplay it as mere physical attraction between opposing forces.

But now it washes over Max in one shattering wave of truth — the way his world tilts off-axis whenever you’re around, the gravity of your presence drawing him in against his will. How thoroughly and irrevocably you’ve embedded yourself under his skin without him ever truly realizing it was happening until now.

He grips the wall for support, legs feeling abruptly unsteady as his head spins. How is he supposed to reconcile this revelation? That his heart now lies so completely in the hands of this fierce, untamable woman utterly hellbent on dismantling and revolutionizing his entire life’s work in the name of environmentalism.

The delicious contradictions of having fallen for someone whose core values and purpose seem to exist in such direct opposition to his own are enough to make Max’s head throb dizzily. You are his antithesis in so many ways — that headstrong passion a perpetual thorn in his side, continually pushing and prodding him out of his self-imposed boundaries.

And yet … he couldn’t be more completely enthralled.

It’s that relentless challenging of his beliefs, that refusal to settle for complacency, that has drawn Max in and held him captivated against his will from the very beginning. In you he’s found a riveting counterpoint to the blinkered single-mindedness of his existence, a refreshing perspective that somehow makes him want to be a bigger, better version of himself.

Even now, just the phantom echo of your parting words has him straightening unconsciously, feeling almost chastened and bereft in the wake of your absence. Max has never been one to dwell on his emotions, preferring to analyze and compartmentalize until they’re boxed away into neat, manageable parcels.

But this all-encompassing feeling storming through him in your wake is anything but neat or manageable. It’s wild and catastrophic, crackling with the dangerous intensity of a lightning strike clawing its way across the horizon in slow motion.

Just the thought of looking into those blazing eyes and owning the truth of his feelings for you sends Max into a panic, chest squeezing with anxious breath. You have always seen through his feigned nonchalance, cut straight through to the bone with that penetrating stare. He has no idea how to even begin existing openly in the same space as you without his heart shining through brazenly for the entire world to witness.

His fist clenches against the cold metal of the garage wall as an irrational surge of bitterness lances through him. How dare you just sweep into his rigidly controlled life with all that blistering confidence and conviction, making him feel things he never wanted to feel? Upending his carefully maintained reality without a second thought, all in the name of your damned causes?

You weren’t supposed to get this far under his skin. He was just supposed to have a bit of fun, indulge in your company as a momentary diversion at most. And now Max is in so disastrously deep that he has no idea how to drag himself back out.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there warring with himself, torn between exhilarated possibility and vehement denial. What he does know is that his entire world has been turned upside down. And despite the terror rattling his bones, despite the desperate urge to somehow ignore the sheer enormity of this jolt to his system … he can’t muster the will to try and wrestle back control.

Not when the thrill of finally surrendering to you sends such intoxicating electricity crackling through every fiber of his being.

Max peels himself from the wall with renewed resolve, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to steel himself, because avoiding you is clearly no longer an option. Not when your irresistible pull is only amplified now that you’ll be a near-permanent fixture in his life.

He has to face this head-on, confront the exhilarating chaos you’ve wrought in his carefully cultivated existence. Which means pushing down the churning jumble of emotions rattling around in his ribcage before they become too overwhelming.

“Get a grip, man,” Max mutters sternly to himself, knocking the heel of his palm against his temple as if to physically dislodge his internal storm. “It’s just Vettel. You’ve dealt with her shit-stirring antics a million times before. You can handle this new ... development.”

His words carry neither confidence nor conviction, but Max forges on anyway, straightening his shoulders as he plunges back into the fray of the paddock. If he can just maintain some semblance of outward equilibrium, he can get through this.

One foot in front of the other, he winds past the crowd towards his driver’s room as if in a trance. Any minute now, you’ll saunter back through in that mouthwateringly crisp ensemble, eyes bright with hard-won strategy and single minded intent.

And Max will just … what? Calmly confront you as if his entire understanding of your dynamic hasn’t undergone a seismic fucking shift in the last five minutes?

He barks out a mirthless laugh at the impossibility of such a scenario. Any pretense of indifference has surely been shattered between you now. All his meager attempts at deflecting through banter and heated bickering ring hollow to his own ears after this shattering realization.

No, for better or worse, Max has finally tumbled over that precipice he’d been teetering on for so long when it comes to you. Now more than ever before, he dreads and craves the prospect of your next meeting in equal, searing measure.

Because whether he’s ready or not … whether he thinks he can handle the fallout or not … you’ll be able to read every devastating truth written across his face this time.

When your paths inevitably cross again, Max knows there will be no more hiding from you the shift of feelings you’ve unleashed within him.

This time, he’ll be entirely and terrifyingly laid bare.

***

Three Years Later

The crisp mountain air fills Max’s lungs as he straightens up, wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow with a satisfied smile. The freshly tilled soil stretches before him in neat rows, ready and waiting to nurture the seeds you meticulously selected.

“Nice work, Mein Löwe,” you call approvingly from across the yard, one hand resting on the swell of your pregnant belly. “That plot is going to be perfect for all our veggies.”

Max’s chest warms at the undisguised pride in your voice as you survey his handiwork. Just a few years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of voluntarily getting his hands dirty like this. But ever since that fateful day at the airport … everything has changed.

“Yeah, well, be sure to put me to work weeding and watering too,” he shoots back with an easy grin. “Gotta earn my keep as the cabana boy around here.”

You roll your eyes in playful exasperation even as an affectionate smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll be sure to get you a tiny little outfit.”

The teasing remark might have once pricked Max’s fragile ego. But now he simply shakes his head with a low chuckle, marveling at how natural, how right it feels to be the subject of your gentle ribbing. In the years since that first charged encounter, your barbs have sanded down his prickly edges until only his core of wry tenderness remains.

You cross the yard toward him, sunlight glinting off the tousled tendrils of hair that frame your face. Up close, Max can make out the dark crescent smudges under your eyes from many sleepless nights spent mapping out plans for this property — from the aerogel insulation in the walls to the extensive geothermal heating system to the solar panels spanning the roof.

Most people would have long ago surrendered in exhaustion when presented with building the world’s most environmentally sustainable home from the ground up. But not you. You had steadfastly urged him onward, determined to make this place a paragon of renewable living for your growing family.

His growing family, Max mentally corrects himself with a jolt of surprise that still hasn’t faded, even after all this time.

As if reading his mind, you pause before him, gently taking his calloused hands in yours. “Think you can handle planting all those seedlings tomorrow without me? The back pains are really kicking my ass lately.”

Max’s lips quirk upwards at the feisty lilt to your voice. “Getting a little too old to be bending over in the dirt for hours, liefje?”

“Hey, watch it!” You protest with a laugh, playfully batting at his chest. “I’m literally growing an entire human here. Maybe have some sympathy for your poor wife?”

“Alright, alright,” Max chuckles, sliding his hands reverently over the swollen curve of your belly. A sense of awe washes over him, just as it does each time he’s reminded of the incredible miracle blooming inside you — a tiny life that is half him, half this fierce, passionate woman he once couldn’t stand.

He leans in to press his forehead tenderly to yours. “I’ve got it all covered tomorrow. Why don’t you take it easy for once?”

You let out a derisive snort at the suggestion. “Yeah, like that’ll happen. Maybe if you massage my back tonight, though ...”

“Deal,” Max murmurs without hesitation, tilting his head to steal a lingering kiss.

Your lips are soft and pliant against his, still electrifying even after all this time. Max marvels yet again at this strange, thrilling new world you’ve ushered him into — one of quiet moments and domesticity and fulfillment. A world that his former self, obsessed with roaring engines and adrenaline, could have never envisioned.

But even as your mouths move in that timeless, familiar dance, Max’s mind drifts back to that fateful first encounter outside his jet all those years ago. The sheer force of your convictions had rocked him to his core then, cracking open the crusty shell around his heart. And before he could blink, you had blossomed into so much more than an impassioned activist — a friend, a confidante, a lover … and now the mother of his unborn child.

At last, you pull away with a contented sigh, cradling Max’s face in your tender palms. “Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you?”

“Once or twice,” he teases gruffly, though his chest clenches with an all too familiar ardor. “But you know I never get tired of hearing it, schatje.”

You beam up at him with utter adoration shining in your eyes. A look that never fails to disarm Max straight to his core. How had it taken so many years of chasing empty accolades for him to finally find this all-encompassing serenity?

“I just ...” You pause, worrying your full lower lip between your teeth. A sure sign you’re struggling to untangle an emotion webbed with complexity. “I never imagined I could be this … content.”

Your gaze drifts wistfully across the sweeping valley before your mountainside property, the majestic peaks dusted with snow on the horizon. For a beat, Max envisions it all through your eyes — the staggering beauty of this utopia you’ve carved out for your budding family, its self-sustaining existence treading as lightly on the earth as possible.

“After so many years fighting and railing against the system, to find this pocket of peace ...” You shake your head slowly, almost deliriously. “It’s more than I could have dreamed.”

Inexplicably, Max feels his eyes prickling with a sudden thickness at your reverent murmur. A lump forms in his throat, welling with all the indescribable gratitude and tenderness that still threatens to overwhelm him at times like this.

“You know,” he rasps out at last, tracing his thumb reverently over the sharp line of your jaw. “After that day at the airport in Nice … I tried so hard to shake the way you made me feel.”

A wistful smile plays across your lips at the memory as your eyes meet his in silent invitation. You’re hanging on his every word now — a state Max still struggles to wrap his mind around at times.

“No matter what I did, or where I traveled, part of me couldn’t escape your voice in my head,” Max continues, pushing through the lump in his throat. “Demanding that I question my way of life, open my eyes to how careless I had been.”

You nod slowly in recognition, lacing your fingers through his. The remembered combativeness from that long ago confrontation has faded now, giving way only to understanding between the two people who recognize each other most profoundly.

“At first, I just tried blocking you out,” Max admits with a rueful chuckle. He dips his head until your foreheads are brushing again as his voice lowers to an intimate rasp. “But the more I pushed you away, the deeper you burrowed inside me. Until I finally stopped fighting it and just … listened.”

He feels your sharp inhale as his words skate warmth down your skin. Slowly, almost unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his in solidarity.

“And look at us now,” you murmur at last, awestruck and achingly tender all at once.

In your eyes, Max glimpses the past, present and future stretching out in dizzying symmetry — those first fierce sparks of passion blossoming into the steadfast love that shelters your growing family. He sees the painstaking nurturing required to transform a confrontation into a partnership over years of effort and understanding.

Most of all, he sees the promise of new dawns yet to come, with each one awakening to your cherished, reverent teachings about the earth’s splendor and fragility.

His heart clenches fit to burst as Max drinks in your beauty — flushed and glowing with new life, still beaming with that incandescent fire that had first seared into his soul. Only now, it burns only for him, a flame stoking devotion and passion and sanctuary.

Just as Max leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, the shrill chime of the doorbell shatters the moment. You spring apart with a breathless laugh.

“Fuck, I forgot Seb was supposed to be coming over today!” You give Max’s chest one last pat before turning toward the house, waddling slightly with the added weight of your pregnant belly.

Max grins fondly, trailing after you at a more leisurely pace. He can’t resist one last admiring glance over his shoulder at the pristine vegetable garden stretching behind the cottage — an oasis of sustainable beauty, just like the life you’ve created here.

As you reach the front door, pulling it open eagerly, Sebastian’s familiar lopsided grin greets you both from the other side. Your brother’s eyes immediately zero in on your rounded midsection, his expression melting into one of pure adoration.

“Oh, Bärchen, you’re positively glowing!” He exclaims, sweeping you into a gentle hug. “How’s my little niece or nephew treating their mom?”

You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back to shoot Max an exaggerated look of suffering. “This kid’s already high maintenance, just like their father. I’ve got swollen ankles, back pains, you name it.”

“Hey now,” Max interjects with a chuckle, sidling up to join the familiar banter. He claps Sebastian’s shoulder affectionately. “If they end up being anything like you in the baby stage, we’re in for a whole new world of sleep deprivation.”

Sebastian returns the grin, unfazed. “Like you aren’t an even bigger handful than me.”

You snort indelicately, looping your arm through Max’s as you shuffle back to allow Sebastian inside. “Are you kidding? With my influence, this baby will be an expert environmentalist before they’re out of diapers.”

“You wish,” Max shoots back with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. He knows better than anyone the depth of your convictions — and appreciates them more than he can put words to.

As the three of you bicker playfully, Max’s chest fills with an overwhelming sense of contentment. Just a few years ago, he could have scarcely imagined this scenario — the love of his life heavy with his child, her doting brother at their side, their sprawling eco-paradise as the idyllic backdrop.

But now, as he guides you both into the spacious, sunlit living room, Max knows without a doubt that this is exactly where he belongs.

Here, sheltered in the passionate wake of your ceaseless quest to better the world. Here, in the eye of the storm you had first raged into his life, upending everything until his soul had no choice but to still and listen.

You shoot him a private smile, reading his thoughts as easily as breathing. In your bright eyes, Max sees the future stretching out blissfully — a path paved by your determined heart that he will gladly tread in partnership forever.

All because on one fateful day, you had dared to make him question everything. And in doing so, unveiled the peace and purpose he never knew he craved.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen #mv1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x y/n #red bull racing #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen drabble

[verstappen-cult]

Maybe a lestappen fic were Reader friends are the worst and they comfort her, thank you 💗

You were out with your boyfriends when you saw them across the street, walking out of a shop, talking and laughing without a care. You had texted them yesterday to ask if they were free today to hang out, since you haven’t seen them in a few weeks. The answer? I have to work. I’ll be out of town. I’m sick, just numerous excuses.

Max noticed the change in your demeanor in an instant. “What’s wrong, love?” 

“Oh, I just remember that I need to call mom, or she’ll get mad.” You smile, not wanting to worry him. 

“You can call her once we get home.” He kisses your forehead and holds your hand to keep walking. 

Being around them was enough to make you forget about what you saw and you actually ended up enjoying the day off. 

Until Charles decided that it was time to eat and walked into one of your favorite restaurants in town. A very exclusive but cozy one.

The host just gave your boyfriends a look and it was enough for her to rush to get you three a table. 

“Aren’t those your friends?” Charles asks you, looking behind your shoulders. 

You didn’t want to look but you also didn’t want them to know what happened. So, you simply turned around with a forced smile. 

“Oh, yes! What a coincidence.” 

“You can say hello to them,” Max gives you a little pat on your lower back, encouraging you to go to them. “We will wait for you.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek before walking towards them. 

You notice the exact moment they see you, because they go from laughing to a complete silence. 

“Hey!” You try not to show how affected you are, how much you want to cry. “I thought you were busy today.” 

One of your friends gives you a once over before leaning closer to one of your other friends and whispering something before laughing.

They don’t even try to pretend. 

“Yeah. This was something last minute.” One girl says, taking a sip of her drink. “We forgot to tell you.” 

“Are you following us?” One of your male friends says, not hiding his smirk at all.

“Oh, no, I’m—” 

“Because that’s sad.” 

One of your friends, one you thought was someone you could trust, bursts out laughing before saying, “Even for you.”

You’re one second away from crying now, so you decide to excuse yourself and walk away, not hungry anymore and just wanting to go home. But Max and Charles are by your side in one second and you’re unable to do so. 

“Max, Charles!” 

Everyone’s expression changes just like it changed when you approached their table. The difference is that this time they’re all smiling, sparkling eyes looking up at them as if you are not even there, standing between them. As if you are invisible.

“Are you waiting for a table?”

“You can sit with us. We can make space for you!” 

It’s laughable, really. 

Charles looks at you, his hand on your waist. “You want to sit here, chéri?”

You avoid looking at your “friends” and Max notices immediately. 

“We just came for take out,” Max explains, a friendly smile on his lips. “she just wanted her favorite dessert and we can’t say no to her.”

Everyone on the table laughs. But it’s forced, anyone would notice. 

“Well, we should plan something, then.” A blonde girl you have never seen before says. She’s twirling her hair and everything, and you would feel disgusted if it weren’t for the situation you’re currently in. 

Max holds your hand, rubbing circles on your palm. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Silence. 

A beat. 

And then.

“Some friends you are.”

You are out of the restaurant in ten minutes. Charles carries some take out while Max doesn’t let your hand go, at least not until you’re in front of the car. 

“Are you okay?” Max cups your cheeks, and you finally let the tears fall. 

“We noticed things were weird when you stood in front of their table.” Your Monégasque boyfriend says, his free hand rubbing your back. “We just didn’t realize how bad it was until we heard them.”

“How long has this been happening?”

You sniff, feeling the pad of Max’s fingers wiping the tears off your face. 

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” You laugh, closing your eyes, thinking about how stupid and blind you were. “it has been this way since… forever.”

“Oh, baby.” Charles wraps you in his arms, Max joining the hug without a second thought. 

“You should have told us.” Max whispers in your ear, and you nod because he is right. “We could’ve done something.”

Charles rolls his eyes, giving his boyfriend a little push. “You don't need them, okay?”

“You are an incredible,” Max kisses your cheek, “and amazing person.”

“Most beautiful girl in the world.” Charles kisses your other cheek. 

Your Dutch boyfriend gives you a little peck on the lips before pulling away to look directly into your eyes. “Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives.”

“Their loss.” You groan against Charles’ shoulder. 

“That’s my girl!” They laugh and you feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

“Now,” The blonde-haired boy says, opening the car door for you. “Should we go home to eat in bed while we watch some movie?”

“Can we watch Cars?” 

“Charles, she will choose the movie!”

“But she loves Cars too!”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[imfinereallyy]

Steve finds love in clean sheets.

He comes home on a Wednesday night to his, Robin’s, and Eddie’s apartment, exhausted. They are packed in like sardines in the place; Robin gets a room to herself, having the space to create her own identity. But Eddie and Steve share a room and do so without much complaint.

They both want her happy.

They are friends, so it’s normal to share a room. It’s probably less normal to share a bed—but the space is small and they have so many things, so sharing a full bed is easier than squeezing twins into corners.

Steve doesn’t mind it being so close to Eddie. Thinks he should be worried about that feeling, but finds he isn’t bothered at all.

Their habits rarely butt heads, their organization skills somehow meet in the middle, and Steve doesn’t care how Eddie decorates as long he’s okay with the nail bat placed under the bed.

The only thing that is a problem that really isn’t much of a problem, is the bed sheets. Sometimes, Eddie forgets, so Steve’s taken it upon himself to change them. It’s not that he doesn’t like the smell of Eddie that lingers. It smells of a home he didn’t know he had on a warm summer day.

But after work, especially on hard days, Steve likes to shower and bury himself beneath clean sheets. The cold, smooth texture rubbing against he legs, the fresh linen scent feeling up his nose.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie notices; he is almost positive, and even if he did, he wouldn’t bat an eye. So Steve changes his sheets every five days or so, more often than really necessary.

Until this Wednesday night.

Steve isn’t having a good day—in fact, he would categorize it as one of his worst yet. Work was hell, and nothing was going his way. Steve walks into the apartment to see Robin and Eddie on the couch, and all Steve wants is to shower and crawl into a clean bed.

The problem is, though—the day from hell has actually been the week from hell, and Steve realizes he hasn’t changed his sheets in a week.

Steve groans as he heads towards the shower, ignoring the curious look from his friends. He begrudgingly accepts his fate—a dirty bed in exchange for an early sleep. Steve bangs his head on the bathroom wall.

Steve exits, and moves to his room to throw on boxers and a tshirt he almost sure is Eddie’s.

Then, he lifts the blankets and snuggles inside only to realize—the sheets feel amazing. They feel clean.

Steve glances down at them, realizes they are the flower sheets Eddie hates—replacing the dark grey ones that had been there this morning.

Steve knows undoubtedly that Eddie is the one who changed them. Steve could write it off as Eddie finally remembering a chore, but he can’t lie to his heart.

It knows Eddie did this for him.

Steve lets out a huge sigh of relief as he sinks down into the clean sheets, the smell of linen wafted through the air with hints of Eddie’s cologne from his shirt.

Steve snuggles into the bed—taking Eddie’s pillow instead of his own, and falls asleep to the steady thought that Steve Harrington is in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had.

#i wrote this instead of sleeping #it feels kinda silly now that it’s written #oh well #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #ficlet

[ktgoodmorning]

Goodnight, mi Tana

Aitana Bonmati x adhd!reader

This is just my experience as someone with adhd, I know I don't speak for everyone!

Masterlist

“Baby, do you realize what time it is?” You jumped at the sound of Aitana’s voice suddenly breaking you from your focus on your book. She had been gone most of the day with some friends and you hadn’t heard her come home, let alone come out to join you on the balcony. Your eyebrows furrowed because of course you didn’t know what time it was, but you weren’t sure why it mattered. You had been laying there for a while now, reading and working on your tan, just basking in the beautiful weather.

“I don’t know, three, four O’clock?”

“It’s almost eight! Have you-”

“Eight?!” You jolted up, “How the hell is it eight? I’ve been out here almost the entire day. How did I not notice?!  I haven’t even eaten!” 

You thought you’d been outside for maybe an hour or two, definitely not the whole day. Now you had hardly any time left to do the laundry or any of the other more “necessary” tasks that you put off until you had done some reading. 

In your slightly panicked state, your girlfriend came to join you, taking both your hands in hers to break you from your thoughts and try to calm you down. “It’s okay, love. I can help you get some of that stuff done before we go to bed, and we’ll have plenty of time to finish it up tomorrow.”

You pulled your hands from her hold and roughly ran them over your face with a loud groan. “No, Aita, you don’t understand! I wasted my whole day out here and I still have so much energy because I want to do other stuff but now I need to start winding down to go to bed soon.” 

Aitana was used to you sometimes getting frustrated at yourself for things like this but this was the worst you had been in awhile. It was clear you had no intention of being outside all day but once you got into your book, there was no way of stopping you. It killed her at times to see the way it affected you and how you got so angry at yourself even though you both knew you were doing your best. “Well you’ve still got time, you could start something else tonight and finish it up tomorrow?”

“No! Why would I bother starting it tonight if I can’t just finish it? If I start something else I’m gonna be up late trying to finish, there’s no point.” Your voice had inadvertently raised, something that happened quite a lot and you were both used to at this point. Your girlfriend knew not to take your yelling personally and that it wasn’t her that had you losing your patience, it was entirely yourself. She’d almost prefer if it were her fault though, because at least then she would know how to help. When it was with yourself, there was little she could do.

“Why don’t we just start by going inside and getting you some food? Then we can go from there and see what time it is.”

You gave her a slight nod and allowed her to help pull you up and lead you inside to the kitchen, motioning you to sit down while she got some food out for you. “Any requests?”

“Uggghhhh, no. Nothing sounds good, I’m not even hungry anymore.” You buried your head in your hands, resting on the table as you whined at your girlfriend who was just doing her best to help you. 

“I’ll just get you a little bit of everything then, and I’ll eat whatever you don’t want. At least one of them should be okay.” Atitana was mostly talking to herself, sensing that you had hit a wall where you didn’t feel like talking much and just wanted to focus on regulating yourself. She could see your shoulders rising and falling as you took some deep breaths, but decided to keep working on getting some food together, rather than try to help you calm down right now. She kept a close eye on you while she finished making your food, wanting to make sure you didn’t get any worse. When she set the plate down in front of you, she ran her hand gently over your back to get your attention. 

“Baby, what can I do for you? I really think eating will help but we could go eat on the couch instead, if you want? 

You remained silent but gave her a nod as you pulled your head from your hands and tiredly looked up at her.

 “Oh, baby,” she pushed some hair behind your ear, heartbroken by the helpless look on your face, “Let’s go sit down; I’ll bring your food.”

You followed her out of the kitchen, looking much like a young child who had just been woken from a nap, and laid down on the couch lazily. 

“Do you want me to grab you a blanket before I sit down?” Aitana set your plate down on the coffee table and was now just looking at you expectedly, trying to figure out how to help you. 

“Tana,” your voice was almost a whisper, suddenly much quieter than you normally were. “Could you just lay on me for a few minutes?” 

Her previous face of worry broke into a soft smile, more than happy to fulfill your request. “If I ever say no to that, there’s something seriously wrong with me," she giggled into your neck as she gently laid down on you, both of you instantly relaxing into the contact. 

Both the pressure of her on top of you, along with the sound of her laughter, helped distract you from the anxieties that had been building just moments earlier. It was like hitting control alt delete on your spiraling and making it magically disappear. Suddenly your breathing was calmer, as well as your mind, and you no longer had to worry about all the things you didn’t get done, you had all the time in the world to make sure it all got done tomorrow.

After a few minutes of just laying there, both at peace with where you were at, the Catalan woman’s head popped up to look at you. “Think you’re ready to eat some food?” Her persistence made you smile. She obviously knew that food would help you feel better but didn’t want to push too hard to get you there. 

“Si. Food sounds like a good idea.” Aitana rolled off of you and passed you the plate she had made up, full of a variety of different foods. She knew how picky you got when you were in a bad mood so she made sure there were plenty of things that were always safe bets. “Gracias, Tana. This is perfect,” you leaned over to give her a short kiss, “You know me too well.”

She brushed it off with a small shrug and kissed you again before you started digging into the food in front of you. “Don’t feel like you have to eat it all, I’ll finish anything you don’t want. Then maybe when you’re done you can shower and get changed, and then we’ll put on a movie or something?” 

You groaned, mouth still full of food. “I don’t want to shower, it feels like so much work.”

“What if I say I’ll join you?” You quirked an eyebrow at her, trying to see if she was serious. “I’m not saying anything’s gonna happen, I’m too tired for that. But I’ll still join you if you want?” Your girlfriend watched you continue to shove food in your mouth while you contemplated her offer. 

“If you’re joining, then I’m in.” Her eyes lit up instantly now that she knew her plan would work, just smiling at you and cuddling into your shoulder as you finished your food. Knowing you didn’t like sitting in silence for long, she filled you in on her day and her time with her friends, getting you caught up on everyone’s lives. You normally didn’t like to sit and listen to people without chiming in yourself, but with Aitana, you could do it all day long if you could. Something about the way she would break into little giggles and looked so bright when she talked about the things she loved, just made your heart full. 

You hadn’t even noticed you had just finished the last of your food until she pointed it out to you because you had been far too focused on listening to her story. “Baby, I’ll take your plate, if you go get in the shower. I’ll come join you in a minute, yes?” You responded with a kiss before getting up and helping her up as well. Both going your separate ways until she could join you.

...

After your shower, you both got changed and brushed your teeth together before getting cuddled up under the covers of your bed. 

“Do you want me to put a movie on? We don’t even have to watch, maybe we just put one on in the background while we just cuddle?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect.” You rolled into her side before she even had a chance to respond, chuckling lightly at your sudden clingy-ness. “Don’t put on anything too serious, I’m not planning on paying attention. I’ll probably end up talking through it or falling asleep anyways.” You both giggled at your words. It was true. You almost never made it through a movie and Aitana was always there to tease you about it.

You snuggled into her further, placing your head on her chest as she held you against her. “Maybe I should read a little bit before bed. I didn’t have much left in my book when you came home today, I bet I could finish it.” 

“Amor, I mean this in the best way, but you have over a hundred pages left. If you even look too hard at that book, you’re gonna be up all night trying to finish it. That’s not a good idea. We have training tomorrow.” 

“But Tanaaaaaa. It’s really good and I just think that I’d sleep better if I knew what happened. We only have morning training so if I’m tired I could just take a nap in the afternoon.”

“I understand you want to finish your book baby, but you aren’t pulling any more all-nighters. You need sleep, it’s not healthy.” You only responded with a pout, eyebrows furrowed together, locking eyes with her in hopes that she’d give in to you even though you both knew it wouldn’t work. You were constantly giving her this face yet she rarely gave in, especially if it was something related to your health and well-being. When she only responded with a blank stare, you dropped your head back to her chest to continue chatting.

As soon as you got comfortable again, the two of you immediately fell into conversation about anything and everything. You talked about the transfer window and all the current football news, the book you had been reading and all your thoughts on it, truly everything that popped in your head. Somewhere in the midst of your talking, you realized that the movie Aitana had put on in the background was actually somewhat interesting, making you split your attention between it and your conversation. 

“Baby! Are you even listening?” she tickled your side lightly as a way of bringing your attention back to her.

“I’m sorry, Tana!” You giggled into her neck, hugging your arms around her tightly. “I was trying to listen but look, the movie actually got kinda good!”

“You never get through entire movies! And now when we finally get smart and put on a boring one you suddenly pay attention?!” She wasn’t actually mad at you, the huge smile on her face made that incredibly clear. You just beamed back at her. The two of you probably looked ridiculous as you both smiled at each other from ear to ear, saying nothing while the movie continued in the background. 

“Aita, you should really pay attention, it’s good!” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you before following your attention back up to the television. The two of you managed to snuggle even closer together, if that was even possible. You still talked here and there when you thought of anything but were mostly focused on the movie. 

It wasn’t long until you felt Aitana’s breaths evening out underneath you. When you lifted your head to look up at her, you found her sleeping peacefully, clearly exhausted from her busy day. You moved slowly in hopes of not waking her up, trying to reach for the TV remote to turn it off and go to bed. Of course the second you moved though, her eyes fluttered open and a look of confusion crossed her face. 

“What are you doing, baby? I’m watching!” Her accent was thicker than usual, giving away her little nap no matter how much she wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. The way she pretended to hide the fact that she was falling asleep just so you could finish the movie made you smile. She was always doing things like this, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for it. 

“Aita you’re falling asleep. We can finish it tomorrow night, it’s okay. Let’s go to bed.” 

“No! No, I’m not falling asleep!” 

“Okay, well I’ll just turn it off anyways and we can keep chatting.” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you, obviously knowing what you were up to, but still getting further settled under the blankets. You reached over to turn off the lights and plug in your phone before you ended up laying face to face with Aitana. Your legs were tangled together in the sheets and the two of you were just looking at each other, sharing a soft smile. Her eyes were wide open now that she had woken from her little nap, but you couldn’t decide if she was actually feeling that awake or if she was just trying to hide the fact that for once, she was the one who drifted off during a movie and not you. 

“We should really be sleeping right now, Tana. We have early training tomorrow and we both know you like getting to bed early.” You could function just fine with little to no sleep, or at least you liked to think so, but Aitana was a different story. She was much more strict on her sleep routine and would definitely feel it if there was a change to it. 

“I know…” she trailed off, going quiet for a moment. “… wait! Remember what Ingrid was telling us about their anniversary coming up?”

“Oh my god, yes! Do you think she’s actually gonna do it? I know Mapi would love another cat but I just can’t see Ingrid going through with it! Can you?!” 

And there you were. Both exhausted, both needing to be up early in the morning, both excitedly gossiping about your best friends. This was normal for you but normally you were the one who started it and kept you both up later than you planned, not your girlfriend.

It was obvious that Aitana wasn’t used to being up this late when her accent became harder for you to understand and her words started slurring together. It slowly became an intertwined mix of English, Spanish, and Catalan that you had no hopes of comprehending. 

“But Bagheera is su bebé, así que tal vez no want someone else para robar la atención and maybe- wait why are you laughing at me?” 

“Tana, you’re half asleep and making no sense. You’re not even gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, I really think you should go to sleep.”

“I’m not even tired, though.” her grumbling was hardly audible as you just shook your head at her, amused by the reversal of your typical roles. 

“Okay well I’m gonna go to sleep, you can keep talking if you want, okay?” her only response was an incoherent mumble as you curled up into her side and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, mi Tana. I love you.”

I really like my other adhd!reader one better but we'll see. I don't love this one. I wouldn't be shocked if I still do more like this though.

Requests are always encouraged! I'm starting to run low on ideas lately!

Masterlist

#wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingaitana #barcelona femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #espwnt x reader

[river-of-wine]

It’s so strange to me how so many of the same people who talk about how complex the writing of the Red Dead Redemption games is, which it of course is, are the same people who refuse to accept that their favourite cowboy ever did anything actually wrong that can’t be blamed on somebody else. John chose to go after Micah. He heard Arthur tell him not to look back, he heard Abigail pleading with him to stay and he went anyway, and that decision is what eventually got him killed. Arthur Morgan beat Thomas Downes to death. Strauss gave him the debt mission, but Arthur went through with it. He beat a sick, dying man to death and that killed him too. These are important aspects of their stories that trying to push onto somebody else completely removes or ignores the significance of. No one forced John to kill Micah or Arthur to kill Thomas Downes. Micah wasn’t forcing Dutch to do anything he did either. Dutch is already behaving in concerning ways long before Micah really starts with any of that behaviour. Micah did not force his hand, Micah did not make him abandon his sons multiple times, Micah did not make him abuse his girlfriend, Micah did not make him take advantage of the Wapiti people. Hosea is capable of wrongdoing contrary to what many people seem to discuss, but he’s treated by so many people as the perfect most honourable man because he’s placed next to and openly questions one of the worst guys around. Hosea raising John and Arthur into the outlaw life that would eventually destroy all four of them is not something you can exclusively acknowledge when it comes to cute found family things, it is a flawed part of the very flawed man that Hosea is. The bank robbery was his idea. There was no secret second rat, Abigail and Molly were never sneaking off to Milton in chapter four, he just put together a heist that went badly. Your favourite cowboy has done bad things and you can’t talk about how complex he is if you refuse to acknowledge what makes him complex in the first place.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #john marston #arthur morgan #death to dutch van der linde #hosea matthews

[dazednmatthews]

(but you) still tried to stay~ number neighbor!matt x reader part fourteen

it was the gnarliest spew of deja vu y/n had ever experienced, waiting outside for matt as he pulled up.

the only difference is that this time, she was preparing for the worst. preparing to do something she knew deep down she didn’t want to, but had to do anyway. there were tremors running through her body as his headlights flooded the parking lot, so she tightens the hold she had on herself. it was fake comfort, that she knew. she didn’t really deserve to be comforted right now as far as she was concerned.

matt gets out the car, rounding it and looking at her with an unreadable expression. y/n wants to kiss him— feel his arms around her at the very least— but she stays rooted in the spot she stands.

she’s looking everywhere but his eyes. his hair, which looks perfect, his car, which she’d been in, or his chin, which was dangerously close to his lips.

“you can’t just show up like this, matt.” her voice is low. she doesn’t want to speak too loudly, afraid he’d be able to hear right through her.

“tell me what’s happening.” he says, voice strong. he’s trying to catch her eyes, but she’s not letting him.

“matt-“

“it’s been days, y/n. i see that you’ve done a pretty good job of convincing yourself everything’s fine, but you can’t convince me.” there’s no bite to his words at all, but they still hurt. her worse fears, that she’d been hurting matt through the distance, are slamming into her like a freight train.

she feels herself panic when he takes a step forward. she doesn’t move, although she should. she should make this as easy and painless as possible, but she can’t help but want to be near him.

y/n tells herself it’s for old times sake, the way she lets him invade her space. the way she melts into his touch the tiniest bit when he places a hand on her jaw. she closes her eyes for a split second and imagines that things were different. that she was different.

but they aren’t. and neither is she. so she forces herself to move out of his hold. “we should stop this.”

she can see the shift in matt’s demeanor as his hand drops. “stop what?”

“this, matt.” she gestures between them. “talking so much. seeing each other.”

his scoff pierces something in her. “no, what is this, exactly?” he questions. “just asking cause it’s not like i can ever tell. not like you’ve ever called it what it really is.”

“you know what i mean.” she can hear the slight desperation in her voice. she knows just as well as he does what it is, what it’s been for a while. that was why she had to stop it.

“no, i don’t think i do, y/n.” she still can’t make herself look at him. she doesn’t want to see the anger on his face or worse, the hurt. “what is it? what have we been doing?”

she stays silent. she thinks about that quote, “is it better to speak or to die?” and she thinks that maybe death would be less painful than this. it sounds dramatic, she knows, but the anxious feelings clawing up her chest and squeezing at the base of her throat make her incapable of saying the words. saying what she knows he’s looking for. saying exactly what’s making her pull away in the first place. it feels reminiscent of dying, because she’s killing something beautiful before it has a chance to grow.

“cause to me,” he’s closer to her now. she can see the chain peaking through the collar of his t-shirt, can see the rise and fall of his chest. “this is something. it’s pretty much everything.”

she hates the way it makes her breath catch. it takes her off guard, his completely honest words. so much so, she makes the mistake of looking up at him.

his eyes are open, so fucking open she thinks he’s staring right down into the frail cavity of her chest, searching for what she was trying to hide. it makes her panic even more.

“what the hell are you running from?” he looks at her like it hurts him too. “why are you shutting me out?”

it’s a lie, what she says next. she knows it, and she’s pretty sure matt does too. “god, matt. it’s really not that big of a deal. we were talking. not together, not dating and not anything more than that.” the words taste like acid leaving her mouth. “stop acting like you’re fucking in love with me or something.”

matt reels back like she had hit him. his entire body shuts down. he rubs at his jaw, humorless laugh coming out. the kind of laugh where you can’t fucking believe what you’re hearing. when he looks at her this time, she wishes that the ground would swallow her up whole. “yeah.” it’s concrete feeling. final. “or something, for sure.”

he doesn’t say anything else as he walks away from her. he stops suddenly, looking back, it sears a hole into her chest, the way his eyes search her face. she feels herself shrink slightly, his gaze sweltering. she must look pathetic; arms wrapped tightly around herself, holding back tears.

but because he’s matt, he still looks at her like she’s the only thing he ever wants to see. his face softens, and he sighs. “whenever you’re ready, whenever you want to stop hiding, i’ll be here, y/n.”

it’s the last thing he says before he gets into his car and drives away from her.

y/n doesn’t know how long she stands there, watching the direction he drove off. it’s until her feet start to hurt, her eyes are long-since dry and her bones shake. only this time, it’s from the chilled wind whipping around her and not from the sickly weight of self-sabotage.

TAGLIST:

@cottoncandyswisherz @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @55sturn @chrryclouds @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds @unbruisable

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo headcanon #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo x black reader #matthew sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo texts #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #Spotify

[soupandsimple]

Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)

[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]

* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)

** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)

…………….

Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.

Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.

Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”

“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”

That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.

After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.

“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.

“I would have loved if you did.”

You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”

“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”

He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.

“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”

You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.

“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”

“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.

You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.

Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.

Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.

“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.

“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.

So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.

“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”

Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.

“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.

He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”

All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.

But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.

“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.

You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.

“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.

You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.

“You can’t do what?”

“Return to the real world.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”

“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”

You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.

“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.

“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.

As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.

He then finally spoke.

“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.

Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.

“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.

Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.

“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.

Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.

He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Lonely Together ║ ⓞⓝⓔ๏ⓞⓕⓕⓢ

LONELY TOGETHER | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT:  1.8k | CONTENT: disgusting brainrot from the Jackson era Joel pic being released, unhinged delulu take on him being sad and lonely and fixing it with sex as a coping mechanism, just general filth idk what to tell you, he's got a mouth on him, degradation kink?, use of derogatory terms but in a sexy way, my result of "sad horny" on the what kind of horny are you? quiz making a lot of sense in this fic

| SYNOPSIS: Joel is lonely. You're lonely. You decide to be lonely together.

It had started out naturally. Joel Miller’s house was remarkably quiet these days, some fracture in his relationship with his step-daughter Ellie being the catalyst for her departure, and he walked around most of the time looking like a kicked puppy. You were no better and with much less of a valid reason to be such a sad sack. You shared one thing in common above all else: loneliness. You’d both honed in on it, recognizing it in another person but not really knowing what to do with it for yourself let alone somebody else.

That is, until, the root of the loneliness made itself clear. You were desperate to be wanted, and Joel was desperate to be needed. A symbiotic give and take that restored some sense of equilibrium to the world when you gave into the urges and gave into each other.

And maybe you wouldn’t normally be so whiny and so pathetic. Maybe Joel wouldn’t normally speak so harshly and demanding. But you drew it out of each other, a safe place to be the worst versions of yourselves and chase what the mind and body needed to make things feel better if just for a little while.

There was no shame in how you meshed together. No second thoughts or chastisement for any notion of your ego being left completely checked and abandoned at the door or his flying off at the mouth with some manic call to ownership. It’s part of what made this dynamic work so well.

You refused to let yourself feel guilt or embarrassment over how he made you feel and act, and he didn’t kick himself for this rough, insistent version of himself that you brought out. It’s what led to a nearly constant need for each other, saying and being things that never left the walls of his home where you normally met up and often stayed the night.

“I know you’re not muffling those pretty little sounds,” he grunts and jerks your head up from where it’d been buried in the pillows as he slammed into you from behind. “Those are my sounds. They belong to me, and I wanna hear ‘em.”

You choke out some pathetic moan and let him puppet your head with his hand clutched around a fistful of your hair. The impact of his drives intensifies as he seeks out more of his sounds. Between the air being punched from your lungs and the mouth of your cervix being punched by his cockhead, you aren’t entirely sure what sounds you’re making, let alone if they’re enough to feed his demand for them.

“Yeah, there you go,” he husks and grips his free hand around the crease of your thigh to pull you closer to him. 

There were times when he was particularly possessive and desperate, and your body subconsciously pulled away from the intensity of his focus, only to have him drag you back even closer to his whims. You always let him. He never gave you more than you could take, and, when he did, it always ended up being just a touch further than what you understood you could manage. He was always forcing you to learn about yourself like that. You resented and pursued it all the same.

“You know better than to make me chase this sweet little cunt,” he snaps. 

You mewl out some kind of apology, but you both know this is just another part of the dynamic that feeds you both.

He pushes your shoulders down into the mattress, head sideways so he can still hear what he does to you, and jerks your hips back. You’re practically limp as a ragdoll, having gone at this now for the better half of an hour, growing exhausted from being taken to the edge so many times just to have him draw back at the last minute.

He pounds into you, and the wet smack of your smeared arousal sounds with each snap of his hip against you. Your slick is everywhere –  your pussy drooling and begging and crying for release – a sort of debauched canvas he’s made out of you in all the ways he’s bent you and folded you and angled you for his liking. He locks your wrists behind the small of your back and uses the leverage to somehow pound impossibly harder.

You feel like you’re about to push through the mattress in a few thrusts if he keeps up this pace, a mind boggling stamina for someone in his 50s. It felt like at times his need to be needed outweighed your need to feel wanted, but you would never complain about the frenzied fervor it invoked in him.

Just as you’ve accepted your fate of being plowed through the mattress, he’s yanking you flush against his chest and driving you down onto his cock. Your hands fly for an anchoring point, and Joel obliges by wrapping an arm under yours and crossing it against your chest and neck until he’s cradling your throat in his palm. Your hands claw onto his forearm like a port in a storm, and you hold on for dear life.

He grips your throat, just enough for you to respond how he wants: a tiny shiver and a throaty moan.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he grunts. He’s slamming you down onto his cock now, almost deranged in how he seeks out any and every way to make you come completely undone. “My little fuckhole. Say it.”

“I’m–I’m your little fuckhole,” you choke out around the squeeze of his hand.

“You better mean it, baby. Any hole is mine, ain’t that right?”

As if to prove his point, he slips his thumb into the rim of your ass with ease, all the smeared lubrication of your unfulfilled orgasms making a slippery entrance for him to finger. You gasp and clench around him, around his thumb and his cock, all excitement and nerves and anticipation for where he would take this.

You cry out when he plunges his thumb deeper, maybe a reminder that you hadn’t answered him, and you were expected to always answer him.

“Anything! All of them!” you yelp. The sting of his thumb now steadily pumping in and out of you made you feel all the more dizzy and keen for release.

Apparently pleased with your corroboration, he slips his thumb out and grips onto your hip once more to resume his devastating drives. He presses your head back against his shoulder until your ear is next to his breathy mouth.

“Bet you’d let me wreck you there, too, wouldn’t you? Rip you open on my cock ‘til you were gashed and gaped, huh?” He sounds unhinged and so close to spilling inside you that you can’t help but moan and clench.

He breathes a laugh, all he can manage at this pace, and bites onto your earlobe before letting whatever crazed thought that passes through his pussydrunk brain spill from his lips. “Would wreck that hole, baby. Would have you sent up to the clinic just to see what they could do for it. Tryna hide your face all embarrassed when you gotta tell ‘em it’s all wrecked like that because you’re such a nasty fuckin’ whore for my fat cock. Let me use whatever hole I want just because I can, ain’t that right?”

You don’t question why his frenzied promise of fucking your ass so hard you’d need to go to the clinic makes your orgasm come blazing from out of nowhere up the back of your spine. He’s not far behind, a few more thrusts before he’s groaning and filling you with more wet and slip. You collapse together onto the bed and lay limp and panting for what seems like forever as he softens inside you.

You come back to earth when Joel gently nudges you and nuzzles your neck and ear. “You okay?”

It always struck something strange in your chest when he got tender like that, sounding genuinely worried he’d gone too far or been too rough. But, just like always, it was exactly what you needed. What you both needed.

“I’m okay. Felt so good,” you tell him in earnest. He pulls you closer to him and drinks in your praise. He needed this as much as he needed to bury himself inside of you. “Always make me feel so good, Joel.”

He hums a little gravelly acknowledgement and presses a line of soft kisses to your neck. You smile and wiggle your head for him to kiss more of you. It felt unreal in these moments afterward, each time building something strangely sacred and dangerously close to attachment. To companionship. To raw, genuine feelings. To love.

But that hadn’t ever been the point of this, and it felt terrifying to acknowledge. It was easy to say you came to him because he made you feel wanted. It was easy to say he broke you down and built you back up because you gave him that control.

It was decidedly complicated to say you maybe had found more in each other than intended, and neither of you needed complicated. So you deflect. You change the subject. You skirt around the elephant in the room.

“So,” you start and turn over to face him. He hisses as his softening cock slides out of you. You feel his cum dribble out of your cunt, and you want so badly to press your hand down there to keep every bit of him inside you longer.  

He props himself up on his elbow to focus his attention on whatever it is you’re about to say, his fingertip drawing idle lines across your jaw and lips.

“You wanna fuck my ass for the first time, and I’m gonna get reamed so bad I’m gonna need to seek medical attention?” you tease.

He laughs a little at your delivery and at himself for getting so unhinged that he’d babbled about it in the first place. “Nah, baby, just got caught up in the moment. Would never wanna wreck it that bad ‘cause then I wouldn’t be able to fuck it again.”

You snort and grab at his chin. “Wow, not because I would have a wrecked asshole for the rest of my life? You just want it intact enough to fuck as many times as you want?”

He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. “Ain’t that the point of all this? Me fuckin’ you how I want? You gettin’ what you need?”

It sounds false on his lips to the point that even he makes a microexpression of acknowledgement that it might’ve started that way but had morphed into something more – something complicated. But, at least for today, you were going to keep it easy.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you agree with an impish smile. You drag Joel down into a sloppy, lazy kiss.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fic #tlou #tlou fic #tlou smut

[annabelle--cane]

there's a lot going on in the mag 58 supplemental, this one little scene does a lot of heavy lifting to set up martin and tim's arcs for the rest of the show, but I want to focus on these lines particularly because of how therapy comes back as a symbol in s4/s5.

broadly, in the context of the meta plot and not the individual statements, seeking therapy in tma is representative of trying to improve oneself and get out of a bad situation. later, when taking melanie to therapy, georgie suggests that jon should get some as well but, when asked, says she wouldn't be willing to escort him like she does with melanie, showing how she does wish the best for jon in theory but doesn't think he actually wants to get better, or at least that she's not sure enough to involve herself with him.

that view of jon doesn't come from nowhere, because here we have an instance of him rejecting that same offer, symbolically rejecting help in favor of digging himself deeper on his own (obligatory disclaimer that irl therapy is a very personal thing and says nothing about one's overall character, this is just an examination of a motif in fiction). the word choice of "he just says no" imo implies that martin has suggested this multiple times and jon keeps giving the same answer, continually reaffirming that he does not want outside assistance to pull him out of this spiral.

the fact that martin's the one advocating to go soft on jon despite repeated refusals for more sympathetic help is interesting to me, because I would guess that this conversation was instigated by jon aggressively confronting martin about trevor herbert two episodes earlier. we know he was stalking all three of his assistants, but that is the biggest and most threatening outburst we get from jon in this period, and in this conversation it is still martin being defensive and apologetic vs tim being frustrated and pissed off.

I've said recently that I'm pretty sure martin believed jon was self harming and/or suicidal at this point, so I can see why he would be particularly willing to give jon slack and try to prevent any big conflicts, but that still contributes to his current narrative role of "guy who is treated the worst but ignores it because he's also the guy who cares the most." in that way, he's a foil for georgie; she cares, sure, but not enough to ignore (perceived) risks. martin pushes for jon to get therapy even as he lashes out and rejects help, and georgie won't involve herself when jon asks if she'd be willing to help him see a therapist.

this motif comes back around for a final complication in s5, when laverne, melanie's therapist, winds up as part of her cult. melanie's effort to get better and get out did have lasting effects, she is separated from the watcher/watched system and is coping a whole lot better than she would have before, but those personal efforts still weren't enough to fully get her out of the whole mess. no amount of individual action could remove her from this structural problem, her therapist helped her a lot but also now thinks she's a prophet.

which also comes back to the above scene. tim and martin both write off elias as useless in this situation, so they start sniping at each other and talking about how to stop jon from doing what he's doing without even really lingering on how the guy who is actually in charge and has power over them all is making it worse by neglecting his managerial duties. I'm sure jon could have done with some therapy at this point, but that would have only dealt with, like, 10% of the archive gang's current problems.

#tma #marina marvels at life #id in alt text

[andi-kook]

DEAD KIDS ✦ Chapter 2

SUMMARY: A group of university students kidnaps their rich batchmate for ransom. However, things take a darker turn when the new recruit grows a dangerous obsession with the captive and all hell breaks loose.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Slow burn Yandere, Crime AU

WARNINGS: Not suitable for audiences below 18. Please do not engage with the story if you are underage. WATCH OUT FOR: dark and morally corrupt characters, foul language, mention of Catholicism, slut shaming and objectification of women, mention of inappropriate relationship between professor/student, mentions and depiction of “rape” and “rape fantasy” throughout the story, masturbation, threats, MC has an NSFW blog with hard kinks and fantasies, non consensual touching. Overall, this is a disturbing chapter – based on my standards – so if you are not comfortable with these topics, do not proceed. Inspired by the film, Dead Kids (2019).

TAGLIST: @hopeworldsupremacy @aliajomarie011 @ackercute @tatumrileyslover @ane102 @jjk174 @dontcallmeelle @merrygo1427 @taekritimin123 @r1r111 @gguksfilter @coralmusicblaze

If I didn’t tag you – either your blog doesn’t exist according to Tumblr or because you did not show your age in your blog. Thank you!

ANDI: I send my love to the beautiful souls who sent me asks about Dead Kids as well as these equally beautiful souls – @.taekritimin123 @.hellbornsworld @.tinytangerineangel @.namjesusdaughter – for commenting on Chapter 1. I cannot express just how much I appreciate your words. I would have tagged you directly, but I wasn’t sure if you would want that. But I wanted to show my appreciation.

WORD COUNT: 3K

“Why did you really want to take her?” Jungkook asks Namjoon as they sit and eat the ramen he cooked around the living area. Beside him, Yoongi and Hoseok are fast asleep, the latter clutching onto the former’s arm like it’s his plushie while the former has his head thrown against the headrest.

Namjoon, who is seated on the other makeshift sofa, gulps down the soup from his ramen before letting out a satisfied sigh and wipes his mouth with the back of his mouth. “How many times do we have to say that we kidnapped Y/N for ransom?”

“I’m not stupid, Namjoon,” Jungkook says. “We’re already tied to this shit until the ransom drop. The least you can do is be upfront on why you did this in the first place. I’m not taking a bullet for you or anyone.”

The buzz-cut haired man leans his back against the sofa, which unlike his premium one, is built from scratch by Jungkook using old wood and cases of beers around the warehouse. He gazes at Jungkook for a while, studying him while swimming in his own thoughts. The tattooed man wonders if Namjoon is contemplating telling him the truth. He wonders if the two sleeping men beside him also knew the truth.

They claim to have been friends since the fourth grade, but does time really make you know a person inside out?

“My father didn’t used to be the way he is now – corrupt. Growing up, I looked up to him because of how honest and upstanding he was as a cop. I knew he did some off-the-books shit, but he still had a moral compass, still had lines he didn’t cross. But then he met Y/N’s father, Kim Seokjin, when I was ten. Suddenly, everything changed,” Namjoon narrates, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head and rubs his palms on his baggy jeans. “He went from being a great husband and father to my mother and I to a complete asshole. We didn’t have religion but after meeting Kim Seokjin, we were suddenly Catholics, attending church with his family every Sunday. I was baptized and Kim Seokjin became my godfather. But the worst part was seeing him erase all the lines he drew and swore never to cross when he began to use his position as a detective and then eventually sergeant to now the chief of the entire police force in Seoul to protect Kim Seokjin and his criminal empire.”

Jungkook inhales deeply. “So, kidnapping Y/N is you taking on revenge against Kim Seokjin for corrupting your father? It is personal. It’s never about the money?”

“Of course, the money is important and integral to the plan. But yes, you are correct – I want to avenge my father from Kim Seokjin by hitting him where I know it will hurt the most: his only daughter, Y/N.”

“You promised that we are not going to hurt her,” Jungkook counters immediately.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “If you do that – what makes you different than Kim Seokjin?”

“Why are you so protective of her?” Namjoon asks pointedly. “What? Just because she gave you a boner, you’re suddenly fucking in love with her? Don’t think I didn’t notice. We all did. Yoongi is right – drop the morally upright act, Jeon. You’re just as demented as we are. The moment you agreed to this plan, you’re just as fucked up.”

The sudden call out makes Jungkook turn crimson and Namjoon smirks, placing his leg over the other. “Don’t worry – unlike you, I don’t judge people. To each our own. If shit like that turns you on, then that’s on you. Why don’t you take the opportunity to act on it?”

His eyes widen, shocked and disgusted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jungkook knows exactly what Namjoon is talking about, but he is completely aghast at the insinuation.

The de facto leader only widens his smirk, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighter from the front pocket of his large, oversized coat. “You know what I’m talking about, Jeon. A pretty naked girl tied to a chair in your warehouse – it’s perfectly normal to feel aroused by such sight. We won’t judge you if you just get it over and done with.”

“You’re more than fucked up,” Jungkook hisses, face flushed and veins popping out on his neck. “I’m not going to fucking touch her.”

Namjoon lights the cigarette in between his lips. Then, he inhales, and smoke leaves his lips as he replies, “Why not? Y/N is a dirty slut who fucks her married professor with kids her age after church and dinner every Sunday night and more – I bet you all my cut that she’s not going to resist you because she’s probably into fucking someone having their own way with her. No, in fact, I can tell you she’s going to enjoy it.”  

Jungkook feels hot. Images of your naked trembling body and whimpering pleas filling his mind and ears.

“She has a blog, you know? A secret blog where she writes these fantasies and kinks she has. Posts her nudes on there too. Do you wanna know what is one fantasy she keeps on writing about?”

“No, I really don’t,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth.

“It’s a rape fantasy, Jungkook. What a fucking dirty slut she is, right? I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

He stands up in a jolt, hitting his knee on the makeshift table he made from old tires and steel roof and stammering some excuse that he needs to go the bathroom or air – he can’t remember. Jungkook finds himself in his room, back pressed against the door. His shirt sticks to his skin because of the sweat, and he takes it off, leaving it discarded on the floor. Namjoon’s words mixed with the flashing images of your perky nipples, smooth skin, sound of your whimpers, pleas, your smell – it makes him hard. Harder than he’s ever been.

Before he knows it, Jungkook is unbuttoning his jeans, pulling it down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. He spits on his palm before he begins stroking his length, shuddering at the touch, making his mouth dry. He presses the back of his head against the door, eyes closed as he imagines you on your knees – like you were with the professor – those lips around his shaft, head bobbing as you suck him dry. He imagines hearing your moans, imagines his dick hitting the back of your throat as you go deeper and beg him to fuck your mouth like a whore. Jungkook’s stroking himself faster. He imagines hearing you gag as he fucks your mouth, not stopping even when you’re clearly suffocating. Then, he cums, toes curling and a guttural groan escaping his lips.

As he comes back from his high, Jungkook stares at the white sticky substance covering his hand and cock. He just jerked off to you, a girl they kidnapped, and he knows it won’t be the last time.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Yoongi hisses at him the moment he comes back from his room, showered and changed into more comfortable clothes.

Jungkook deliberately ignores the stare of Namjoon and flops on the seat beside Hoseok who is eating the remaining ramen. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“I’m going to punch this kid, I swear to God,” Yoongi grumbles, rolling his eyes. “We’re making the ransom call, you dumb fuck. Or rather, you are.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “What? Why me?”

“Every one of us here has already encountered Y/N’s father at least once. The man remembers everyone he encounters. You’re the only exception,” Namjoon explains as he hands you a black phone. “It’s a burner phone, untraceable. I took it from my dad. And this is what you’re going to say – make sure you sound intimidating at least. Put it on speaker too.”

Namjoon places his phone on the makeshift table and Jungkook clicks his tongue. “The deal was you only use my warehouse. So far, you got me doing far more than that.”

“Do you want 25 million or not?” Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cos if you do, you better start calling Kim Seokjin.”

I’m going to punch you soon, Jungkook tells himself before he unlocks the phone and goes to the contact list where Kim Seokjin’s name is the only one listed. He takes a deep breath, going over the script on Namjoon’s phone before clicking on the contact and putting the call on speaker. The ringing sound echoes throughout the warehouse. The tension is palpable again, like it was back in the car earlier that night.

After a few more rings, Kim Seokjin’s voice fills the warehouse. It’s light but a hint of roughness and irritation is noticeable right away.

“Who is this?”

Jungkook licks his lips as he read the script in front of him. “We have your daughter. If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 million won and bring it to 2020 this Friday night. Otherwise, the next time you’ll see her is on the news, dead.”

Hoseok covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing while Yoongi stares hard at the phone. Namjoon, on the other hand, is relaxed on his seat, smoking.

“You sound young, boy,” Seokjin remarks. “You are not the first person to call me in the middle of the night asking for ransom. Do you really have any idea what you’re doing?”

Namjoon motions for him to repeat what he just said.

“If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 mill—,”

“Don’t you think I would be able to find my daughter faster than you could ever imagine? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

That triggers Jungkook. He’s been hearing that question – that discrimination his entire life and he’s sick of it. He’s fucking sick of it.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are. Either you give us 100 million in exchange for your whore of a daughter or I will personally make you watch as we do everything we want with her, make you watch as she begs you to make it stop, make you listen as she takes her last breath before I fucking slit her throat so deep her head nearly decapitates. You have until Friday night – and you better make sure the police don’t get involved. Don’t fucking ask me who the fuck you are again.”

He ends the call, gripping the phone tightly.

“What the fuck was that? Why the hell didn’t you stick to the script?! Are you trying to get us all a one way ticket to prison?!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Did you not hear what he’s saying? He caught on that we are fucking amateurs. I saved our asses – you should be fucking grateful,” Jungkook snaps, clenching his jaw. “If you didn’t want me to do the call, maybe the three of you should have done it yourselves. Fucking useless bastards.”

“Hey! What did you say?” Hoseok stands, pushing Jungkook by placing his hands on his chest. “Who are you calling useless, huh?”

“Who do you think?” He scoffs.

“Let’s fucking kill this son of a bitch, Hobi.”

“Gladly.”

“Enough,” Namjoon says sternly. “No one is going to kill anyone. Not amongst ourselves. What Jungkook did is right, Yoongi. Jungkook saved our asses. And you,” He turns to the long-haired man, glaring at him. “Mind your fucking tone and language with us. We’re not fucking useless. Remember that we recruited you. Not the other way around. If anyone should be grateful to someone, it’s you. We’re the reason you’ll get out of this shit hole.”

Nobody says a word.

“It’s getting late. Let’s gather here tomorrow after our classes. Just go about your usual days until the drop. Don’t be suspicious,” The de facto leader reminds. “Jungkook, keep an eye out, okay? Don’t forget to check in on our little friend from time to time. Make sure she’s still breathing.” He smirks as he pats his shoulder on his way out.

Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit. Once Jungkook hears Namjoon driving off his – rather his aunt’s – property, he resigns to the sofa behind him. He buries his face into his hands. Five days. You’ll be stuck with him at the warehouse for five fucking days. Granted, he has classes to attend to, so he won’t be at home all day, but he’s sure you won’t leave his mind wherever he goes.

The phone in his hand buzzes and he stares at the new notification on the screen – a text message from an unknown number. Jungkook unlocks the phone, goes to the messaging app, and clicks on the new text.

avirgins1ut on tumblr if you wanna read some things tonight

“Fuck you, Namjoon,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. However, when he goes to his room, grabs his shitty phone and opens his data – he installs the app despite knowing it will consume almost all the remaining gigabytes he has left.

Jungkook lies down on his bed and creates his profile. He doesn’t bother customizing it, going straight to your blog which is all black and hot pink. Instantly, he’s drawn to your profile picture – a simple mirror shot of you hiding your bare chest with your arms, head tilt slightly to the side and a black panty covering your cunt. He swallows the lump in his throat as he scrolls down, reading your pinned post:

“Hey. You can call me Angel. I’m 23 years old. This blog is filled with all my fantasies and kinks, sometimes my nudes. Feel free to send me yours too.

My kinks: cnc, free use, somnophilia, spit, slapping, marking, choking, daddy, and more.

My favorite fantasies: rape play, kidnapped, kept as sex slave, knife/gun play, forced gangbang, and more – why don’t you help me unlock those? DMs and asks open for all your threats and nudes.

Update: already got myself a master/daddy. Asks and messages are off.”

As he scrolls further down your blog, Jungkook doesn’t even realize he already has his hand wrapped around his dick as he masturbates to your the latest fantasy you wrote albeit months ago.

I can’t stop masturbating to this dark fantasy of mine – being raped by someone so brutally after they kidnap me. How they would keep me chained to the bed, always naked so they can easily rape me whenever and however they want. They would mock me whenever I would tell them to stop (“You shouldn’t have worn those skirts if you didn’t want to be raped. But you did. So, this isn’t rape. You were clearly asking for this like some depraved filthy bitch in heat. You’re fucking loving this, don’t you? Isn’t this what you want?”) and choke me as they pound into my wet and clenching pussy relentlessly. They would slap and spit on my face, abusing my cunt for hours until I’m full of theirs and their friends’ cum whom they called to let them have a taste of their new toy.

They would rape me day in and out until my body gets so used to it that I start asking for it – crying and begging to be fucked. “Shh, angel, daddy’s going to fuck you, okay? Don’t cry.” Slowly, I would forget all my autonomy and identity, wholly submitting myself to them because I was never my own in the first place – I was always theirs.

“Fuck, Y/N!” His entire body shakes as he cums again. Jungkook can’t stop – he wants to read more, see more as you posted a picture of your cum covered cunt at the end of the post and he imagines it’s his. But he gets a notification that he is out of data and Jungkook slams his phone on his bed, frustrated beyond bounds. He is still hard. He still wants to see more of you, read more of your fantasies.

Namjoon’s words echo in his mind. I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

And before he knows it – he is standing across from your limp body. You’re still unconscious – sack over your head, tied and bound on the metal chair. Jungkook walks towards you, gently touching your shoulders to see if you would react but you don’t. He bites his lower lip as his eyes fall on your naked chest. He reaches down to trace its curves before ultimately cupping one breast in hand, fondling, squeezing, twisting the nipple and pinching it. No response.

He begins to stroke himself as he continues to fondle your breasts. This is wrong, but why does it feel so good?

“F-Fucking slut, you’re asking for this,” Jungkook hisses through his teeth. He’s not going to last any longer – not when those perky nipples are so inviting and moments later, he cums all over tits. He’s panting, an exhilarating feeling he hasn’t felt before rising within him as he stares at your cum covered chest. He swallows, breathing heavily. Should he stop now or keep going? He doesn’t have data anymore, but he does have the real thing right in front of him. But you twitch and he jumps in surprise. Suddenly, the realization of his actions washes upon him. He feels a coil in his stomach. What has he done? He scrambles out of the room and dash straight to the bathroom where he extensively washes his hand and splashes cold water on his face. Then, he throws himself on his thin mattress, staring at the ceiling as he pants. Namjoon is right – he’s just as fucked up as they are.

CHAPTER 3 is coming soon.

TAGLIST: Wanna be part of Dead Kids’ taglist? Fill out this form and don’t forget to read the short note in order for me to tag you.

ANDI: I do not condone the behaviors exhibited in this story. The characters of Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok do not reflect who they are in real life. Fanfiction is just fanfiction. I have no schedule in writing – I write whenever I can. Please try to refrain from sending asks about updates (or at least be kind and polite about it) and let me know your feedbacks instead as they help a lot in motivation and inspiration! 🦉

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © ANDI-KOOK 2024. NO PART OF THIS STORY MAY BE REPRODUCED, TRANSLATED, MODIFIED, EDITED, REPOSTED AND THE LIKES WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere bts #bts x reader #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts au #dark jungkook #dark bts #andi.writes 💭

[delirium1217]

crystal clear

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“It’s just… not my type of scene, that’s all,”

“Your brother’s engagement party is not your type of scene?”

“Is that really surprising?”

“I guess not,”

The conversation fizzled out, as if it had any fighting chance anyway. Regulus kept staring at tiny details to keep himself steady. The lines in the brick wall in front of him. The way the wind blew away his cigarette smoke.

It’d been too overwhelming inside, filled to the brim with people he hadn’t seen in years. Hungry eyes filled with questions and inquisitions. The shimmering hue that came over everything. Like he’d wound up in an overexposed photo, flaring white and red and orange all over the dance floor.

“Look,” James started back up again. He didn’t even have the excuse of smoking to keep talking to him, “I know things have been - awkward between you and well, everyone, since uhm, uh, it all. And I don’t know if you’re here to reconnec-”

“I’m not here to make amends, James,”

That seemed to catch him off guard. Regulus wondered if James wasn’t used to him being this blunt. Ah, well. Too many things have changed for this not to change too.

He took a deep breath, “That’s fine. I just wanted to say, we all appreciate you being here,” he paused for a second. “Sirius. Even though he has odd ways of showing it, he’s glad you’re here. Remus, too, his whole ‘don’t ruin his day’ speech is just nervous jitters,” his hands were flailing along his words, like he was trying to mime them out.

Regulus looked down at the floor, fragments of silver confetti were taking the shape of real constellations over his shoes. Clever little bit of magic.

He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t blame them for how they acted. Sirius - initial anger followed by weird sentimentality. Remus, all confrontation and ragged edges. He knew what they all went through. He knew all the betrayal that had left them this fragile.

He wasn’t here to ‘reconnect’. If he was, he’d be doing a piss-poor job at it. Was that something he wanted? He didn’t even consider it. Reconnect, and what then?

“It’s just – did you really have to crash in at 10 am after three years of refusing contact?”

It wasn’t an unfair question. Still, it prodded at something in his chest. Something that pulsated and smouldered. He instantly felt the urge to seize up, and push away. It disturbed him how easy it was crawling back into his old skin. The viscera automatically reworking itself into the shape it had once been.

This, he told himself, this is why he left. This place dragged the worst out of him.

If James was expecting an answer, he didn’t show it, leaning back on the brick wall beside him. As if the question was a mere suggestion, something to consider. He’d think it patronizing if it were anyone else.

He looked over at him. White shirt crumpled, sleeves pushed up, tie dishevelled and wonky. The hazy sheen the evening held seemed to swell as he looked at James. As if the stars had fallen and framed his face in their wake.

It was still there, he slowly realized. The tug of want. He felt his hands ache. The incessant urge to touch and feel. He’d tried so badly to bury it. It was still there, sticking its ugly head out of the sand.

Stilltherestilltherestillthere.

An awkward blob of emotion and pheromones and terrible circumstances. He couldn’t look anymore.

“I-” he heard himself start, as if he had no control over his own tongue.

“I’m not supposed to be here. The letter with the portkey was on my dresser. And I couldn’t-“He took a deep sigh, eyes flickering across the floor, “I couldn’t bear to fail him today too,”

The words hung between them. James didn’t react, only nodding slightly. He got the impression he was being treated like a skittish animal. Maybe he was.

“I get that,”

He turned his head towards him, eyebrow raised. “No you don’t,”

“Okay, maybe I don’t,”

A smile tugged on Regulus’ lips. James hadn’t changed a bit. Ever the empathetic, even when it made zero sense.

“Hey, I got you to drop the frown!”

He instantly went back to frowning again. This promptly led to James laughing, in a way that sent Regulus careening years back.

“Thank Merlin I haven’t lost the ability to do that,” James went on.

Snapshots flickered through his head. Himself, a miserable little thing, observing from across hallways and classrooms and Quidditch fields. He wanted to hate him so badly, the boy who’d stolen his brother. He never stood a chance.

The end was there as well. That year was nothing but an open wound in his mind, a festering, rotting tunnel of memories he tip-toed around. But James was there. The only person who could get anything resembling a smile out of him. The stars above the astronomy tower, brighter and brighter as winter turned into summer. Prefect rounds and silly little bickering. They were the only things he’d allowed himself to revisit.

There were so many things left unsaid. So many things Regulus abandoned when he took the Mark. That last night – the one where he pushed James away flashed across his mind. He’d taken whatever fragile relationship they’d had, and he smashed it to the ground.

They hung between them, too.

“I, uhm. I think I owe you an apology,”

James looked at him. Wide dark eyes that he knew shone startling hazel under the sunlight. It was unfair, this effect he still had on him. Turning Regulus into something soft and fragile and vulnerable, even after all this time. He thought he’d left it all behind.

“Yeah?”

“The way I left things, it wasn’t right. I don’t want it stand between us,”

“I thought you weren’t here to make amends?” The wink that followed made Regulus’ heart perform a disgustingly loud percussion routine.

“Yeah well. Some things you just can’t avoid,”

“Ah. And I’m one of those things?”

Yes. All the miles I put between us were useless. Yes. I can’t help but want to crash into you.

“No. I just can’t go back and have another thing I fucked up haunting me,”

James was suddenly somber again, as if he just remembered the grim details of everything that went down.

“Alright, that’s fair. Well, no need to apologize, after all that you did,”

This was wrong. Something was off. He was lying, all this faux calamity was for show.

He didn’t care how long it’d been since he last saw him, James had never not demanded more. More explanation. More words and whys and hows. It was one of the reasons he’d left things so untouched in his sixth year. James Potter would’ve tore down his defenses one by one, till he had none left.

He narrowed his eyes at him. It'd gotten cold outside, or maybe the alcohol warming him had dissipated. The noise from the party inside winding down. The cigarette butts littering the coarse ground.

It was tremendously uncomfortable, yet James had stayed for about twenty minutes, while Regulus smoked, talked and…for what?

“What is this really about, James? Why are you out here?”

“I- you just looked so upset and-“

“Plenty of depressed people at a wedding,”

“Engagement,” James corrected

“Whatever, same difference,”

“It very much is not when I’m the one who planned it all,”

“You planned all of this?”

“Uh, yeah. Why did you think I froze when you showed up? Estranged younger siblings really do throw a wrench into whatever party you have planned, y’know,”

He did not think about why James froze up, because he was too busy staring at Sirius, who looked like he could kill him, “I could imagine,”

The thought of James frantically planning an engagement party was a bit absurd, like something from those muggle comedies his roommates liked to watch. Despite the mood he’d developed, the urge to laugh filled his chest. The mental image of James, his hair more of a bird’s nest than usual, turning red over the wrong type of flowers or cake was incredible.

He supposed it did make sense, James was so close to both Sirius and Remus. Of course, he’d know exactly what they’d want.

That explained all the off-beat magic and tidbits of mischief he’d seen today. Those confetti constellation charms. Whatever the dance floor had that pushed people together. The ribbon streamers flying in between dull conversations, asking people questions. The empty glasses you could mutter whatever you wanted into. It was all so well-crafted. It made him ache.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was a ghost floating through.

“Uh, speaking of the wedding. I’m planning that, too. Obviously. As if they could hire someone better than me. But, uh, uhm.” He took a deep breath, like he was readying himself to jump off a cliff, “I kind of told them you’d stay till the wedding,”

At first, he thought he’d misheard. “You-what?”

“Told them you’d stay till the wedding?” He hesitantly said, “Sirius was such a mess, he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were leaving afterwards and I just- I panicked,”

He stayed quiet for a second, his mind slowly processing what he’d heard. When he did, he got the sudden urge to cry.

“I just- no. That’s-“Regulus found himself fumbling. He’d left this. He’d left this all behind, he couldn’t do this again. “No. No, I’m not coming back,”

“But-“

Sadness burned into anger, a whiplash of emotions that suddenly grounded him, he moved forward off the wall and fully faced James.

“You want to know why I left, James? This is why I left!” Regulus spat out, the harsh words contrasting with all the goddamned harmony everyone was in. All the joy and exuberant youth they were bathed in. He could choke on it. “You don’t get to decide what I do, not you, not the Order, not my family, not any megalomaniac with a death-wish, okay? No one, no one but me!” The rasp in his throat caught him off guard. This – he couldn’t not have control, not after all he’d been through.

“What about the people you left behind?”

He found himself inching closer, staring into James’ eyes. “I do not owe anyone a fucking thing, Potter.”

“No.” James’ voice hardened. There. Regulus thought with sick satisfaction, there was the anger he’d so badly craved. James looked beautiful, face twisted with contempt. The anger Regulus deserved. “No. You don’t get to say that. Not after, not after what you did. Everyone was - I was fucked up for months after you left!” He paused.

“No idea of where you were or what you were doing. And then months go by - and you’ve turned sides but still refused to talk to any of us. How dare you?” 

They both stopped after that, chests rising and falling with labored breath. Grey met brown. James swallowed, Regulus’ eyes flickered down to the movement.

And that’s all it took.

It wasn’t gentle, the way the crashed into each other – how could it be? All sharp angles, teeth, and digging nails. Things said and unsaid fell to the wayside. James’ hands grabbed his temples and dragged him inward. His own hand pushed at James’ tie, twisting it around his wrist and pulling in.

It was the farthest thing away from the chaste little touches they’d shared, a lifetime ago, fumbling through newfound confusion and attraction.

This was frustration and despair and regret poured into one. James tilted his head, beckoning Regulus closer. His hands let go of the tie, slamming him into the wall. The groan the came from James’ mouth lit something inside himself aflame. All he could do was push himself further. Closer, closer, closer.

James pushed himself off. Gasping for air. Regulus’ skin burned with all the lost warmth.

His face was vehement in the dull yellow light. Glasses pushed off, lost somewhere in their collision. His lips a violent red – slightly parted. Hair pulled into tufts, sticking out. All the anger that reverberated between them had cooled down into something feverish and restrained.

None of it mattered – the regrets and who’d left and who’d stayed. Not during a war. They were both wrong for bringing this up.  

They fell into silence, shaky breaths, and piercing stares. Regulus felt his skin prickle with anxiety. His mind out of sync with his heart, he didn’t know what to think.

“I just needed to do that – at least once, if you meant it – leaving,” James muttered, words coming out in desperate breaths, eyes tracing his face.

“James, I can’t be here. Not like how you want. It hurts too much,” his voice came out pleading, a hoarse little thing.

James’ hand reached out, tucking Regulus’ hair behind his ear, the gentle touch a vivid contrast to all the desperate touches that preceded it. The urge to cry came back up again.

“That’s- it’s fine. I’m – I’m sorry I said what I did. I think I said it for my sake as much as it was for Sirius’, I thought about you – this, so many times. Even before you left, I didn’t care, I would’ve still been there,” his voice twisted with guilt at that last part, like he was confessing to a heinous crime. In Regulus’ eyes, he might as well have. He wasn’t proud of what he did – those last few months of war, hearing James say this sent a thrill of fear through his heart.

He would’ve destroyed him. He would’ve wrecked him to pieces.

He didn’t want to think about that anymore. It threatened to throw him off-balance. He looked over at James.

“I – I still want,” Regulus swallowed the rising sense of panic in his chest, he cleared his throat “I still want to be here. I just, I can’t be thrown in full throttle like today. You can’t expect me to just fold to whatever you want. But I still want to be here – when these things happen,” it was true, but he only realized it as he said it.

He still wanted the contact. The string to his past. He just couldn’t handle too much of it.

James laughed, a bright little noise that caught him off guard, “So like. Holidays and weddings? God, Regulus you are so – is that what we just had a full on screaming match about? You want to be a normal person living abroad and visit family on special occasions? I thought you wanted to disappear off the face of the earth and never be seen again,”

Regulus’ face burned with embarrassment – James was right, Regulus had blown up over the mere suggestion that someone would be in control of his life again. His therapist was going to have a field day with that one.

“You were the one that said I’d stay till the wedding,”

“Yeah, which is in twenty days?”

“Oh,” Regulus hadn’t thought about that. He should’ve realized – even after the war ended, people weren’t really keen on delaying weddings.

“Yeah, oh. What – you thought I’d keep you here for a year or something?”

Yes, that’s exactly what he thought. “No.”

James laughed again. Regulus wanted to memorize every second of it.

“Y’know it wasn’t really just a screaming match,” Regulus found himself muttering. They were still both so close. Face to face. The air had stilled around them.

“No it wasn’t,” James’ voice dropped low, his eyes finding Regulus’.

When they leaned in again, it felt inevitable.

Warmth filtered across his skin. James’ fingers gripped onto his hair, strong and unrelenting. His weight against Regulus’ own a welcome comfort. He could get lost in this. He could spend all his days here.

James broke away, yet again. Regulus felt like the rug was pulled out from under him.  

“Listen, could we… talk about what we’re doing here?”

“I – what do you mean?” he felt dazed from the lost contact.

“This,” James gestured to the space between them.

“Um, I mean,” Regulus cleared his throat. “We can figure out a portkey system? I can’t give you any promises, I just. I’m barely holding on most days, but I can – for this, I mean, unless you just want something casual, which is fine. I guess. I shouldn’t have assumed. Yeah, that’d be-”

“Reg, you idiot,”

Oh. He should’ve realized, was this just a one off thing? Had he completely misread the situation?

“Has anything about us ever been casual?”

“No. I guess not.” He found himself laughing, none of it was particularly funny, it was just – relief. Weird, the difference a few hours could make in someone’s life.

James started laughing too. Seemingly, only because Regulus was. He linked their hands together.

“And Regulus?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time we have an argument, we really should do more than angrily make out about it,”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, maybe once in a while,”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

if you enjoyed reading, consider dropping a kudos or a comment on my ao3! it helps a lot to motivate me! thank you<3

ao3 link

#alright might be pushing the limits of what ‘microfic’ is here #jegulus #jegulus microfic #marauders #regulus black #marauders era #james potter #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #jegulus oneshot #delirium writes

[pablitogavii]

Hello can you do a Fanfic about Pablo Gavi and the reader are in toxic Relationship but with some smut? Btw no pressure take your time writing 💘💌

They are not in a relationship..yet ;)

Moving in with Pablo Gavi might have been the worst choice of my life. Even though the apartment was in the center, very luxurious and nice, having him as a roommate was the same as having him as a jealous boyfriend sometimes!

"I'm telling you that you're not going out like that!" Pablo was determined laying back in the sofa watching some old Barça game while I was getting ready in my own bedroom.

"And I'm telling you to stop acting like my dad Pablo! Just because we live together doesn't mean you can boss me around!" I yelled back rolling my eyes while messaging his sister. She is the one who suggested I move in with her younger brother so I at least have someone in Barcelona.

"I won't repeat myself, Y/n..you..are..not..going..anywhere" he was now at my door frame checking out my little black dress trying his best to look me in the eyes instead.

"Why do you care what I wear!? Maybe I want some attention tonight!" I said the first thing that came to mind obviously not meaning it..truth be told, I quickly developed a crush on my jealous roommate.

"Whose attention!?" he was quick and I rolled my eyes grabbing my phone but he quickly snatched it from my hands looking at the screen.

"Hey! That's mine! Give it back asshole!" I jumped trying to grab my phon from him but his hand quickly wrapped around my waist holding my down while he looked at my messages with his sister.

"You're dissing me to my sister, bug?" he smirked and I rolled my eyes pulling away and crossing my arms in front of my chest in anger. Pablo gave my phone back when he was satisfied that it was only his sister I was texting.

"Now if you're satisfied, move so I can go"I said about to walk past him but he was still as a statue shaking his head looking down at my little outfit.

"You will get in trouble looking like that at night.." he said more so worried than angry now. I looked him with big eyes using them to my advantage per usual. I quickly learned how to get my way with this man.

"Fine! Do what you want but have me on speed dial!" he said leaving my room and I smiled nodding my head quickly kissing his cheek before leaving for the night.

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

See ya tonight Barcelona ✨

comments:

juancarlos: aiii mamiiii 🤤

javierbar: i'll search for you in the crowds hermosa

braxtonmall: things I'd do to that body mamiii

gavifans: is Gavi coming???

aurorapaezg: linda💗

y.n.bebe: 💗💗

Pablo just kept scrolling down at the comments of various men saying the most gross and nasty things they would do to me. He was so anxious that he couldn't even pay any more attention to the game so he turned the TV off.

All he could think about is me in that black dress..all alone..with all of those sick people out there. He quickly changed into some fancy clothes texting to ask for my location. I didn't respond cause music was too loud to hear anything, so he called Aurora in the middle of the night.

"Do you know what club she went to Rora!?" he asked and the girl was just waking up from her sleep confused.

"Pablo? Did something happen to Y/n?" she asked

"No! I mean, I don't know! But she shouldn't be out looking like that and alone! It's dangerous Rora! They know she lives with me, so what if someone attacks or kidnaps her!?" he was spirling and Aurora told him to breathe for a moment.

"Seriously, Pablo. You care almost like you're her boyfriend. She's probably fine, why don't you go to sleep?" Aurora said knowing deep down about her brother's crush on me.

"I can't sleep when she's not here...just please tell me where she went!" he said feeling his own heart jump at the words he used. He really cared about me and wished I knew how much.

Meanwhile, the party was getting boring. People were too drunk and everyone started touching random strangers. I was never into that kind of stuff so I decided to call myself an Uber and go home knowing Pablo must be going mental already.

When I turned on my phone, I gulped. Shit! He called me nine times!? Ohh he's probably pissed off right now.

"Pretty girls like you don't need to pay for an Uber, I can drive you home linda" half drunk man walked up to me and I politely said that I was fine.

"What!? You think you too good for anyone but Pablo Gavi!? I have the same car as him, princess..vamos!" he was grabbing my hand now and i panicked speed dialing my emergency contact..Pablo Gavi.

"Y/n! Are you crazy not to answer your phone! Hola!?" Pablo's voice was heard as he was yelling as I tried my best to make him realize I was in trouble.

"Um..I don't want to go with you please leave me alone" I said a bit louder hoping Pablo heard before hanging up the phone.

Since Aurora told him where I was, he was already almost there seeing me in the parking lot pulling away from the guy and quickly braking and rushing outside of the car not caring that he almost cause a car accident.

"Hey hijo de puta! How do you like this, huh!?" he fist punched him and I screamed while he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the car with him before cameras and paparazzi showed up.

"Oh my God Pablo! You won't believe what happened..I.." I was catching my breath trying to talk but he interrupted me rather rudely.

"Callate! We'll talk when we get home!" he said and I gulped looking at his clenched jaw and bloody knuckles..fuck he was pissed off now!

"Come on, let me help you" he said seeing a little bruise on my knee when I fell trying to run and he carried me bridal style onto our shared apartment. I felt my heart beating fast as he sat me down on the sofa grunting a little while inspecting his hand.

"Pablo..I.." I tried again but he shook his head making me shut up.

"Are you really angry with me?" I said sadly but he was in no mood for sentiments. He was scared half to death when he heard my helpless voice on the phone.

"Yes! I am angry with you!" he yelled and I punted curling up in the ball leaving him alone.

"I told you what would happen! Bot Mrs. Independant does anything she wants even if it puts her in trouble!" he was saying it still not looking into my eyes.

"I didn't know that would happen, okay!?" I was angry now too. Why was he scolding me when if I try to be closer to him he pushes me away!?

"What did you think huh!? That you can protect yourself if a guy throws himself at you!?" he said finally looking at me with eyes red from anger.

"Whatever, Pablo! I didn't need your help anyways!" now I was acting out of stubbornness hating the fact that he still looks at me as a child. I tried getting up but he wouldn't let me throwing me on the sofa and hovering above me.

"Oh yeah!? And what would you do if a guy pins you down like this, huh!? Hold your arms above your head? You would fight him off, no?" he was mocking me now and I blushed bright red at the position we were currently in. He was only inches away from my face holding me tightly against the sofa.

"Pablo, let me go!" I said trying to struggle which only made the boy laugh.

"That's all you would do? Please, bug you don't have half of my strenght!" he said and I stopped struggling looking away with a sad face. He was right..he really saved me tonight and I am giving him the attitude again.

"I know what I would do.." I whisper and he leans down turning my face towards his.

"What is that preciosa?" he said looking from my lips to my eyes and I bit my lower lip..fuck it!

"I would call you.." I admit and he smirked nodding his head and leaning further down to capture my lips in a sweet passionate kiss.

"And I would always come..to protect you princesa" he spoke while leaving butterfly kisses down my neck and shoulders while I closed my eyes enjoying the new sensation.

"Mm Pablito?" I said and he raised his head looking me in the eyes.

"Yes mi amor?" he said and I swear something in be broke the moment i heard those words leave his gorgeous lips.

"Are you still angry with me?" I say with a smile and he shakes his head in disbelief shrugging his shoulders in response.

"What if I help you now?" I said moving a little to sit on his lap and he welcomed it curious to what I will do next. I smile leaning forwards to kiss his knuckles and he smiled playing with my hair gently.

"Better mi heroe?" I smile looking up and he smirked nodding his head and leaning down to kiss my lips hungrily.

"Don't ever do something stupid like this again, princesa!?" he said sternly and I blushed nodding my head.

"Now i have all the attention I need at home..from mi novio" I said and he grabbed my neck pulling me a little up before smashing his lips onto mine again.

"How long I wanted to hear you say that mi amor.." he whispered into my lips while we were kissing.

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi x reader

[chaoticharrington]

Chapter Four: The Dungeon Master and Depression

***BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER THERE IS GOING TO BE SEX, HEAVY BDSM THEMES, AND OTHER GENERAL NSFW THINGS. IF YOU ARE A MINOR/A BLANK BLOG/ A BLOG WITH NO AGE PLEASE DO NOT INTEREACT! IF I SEE IT, I WILL BLOCK IMMEDIATELY! THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, alcohol consumption, Steve needs a hug, sad Steve, Eddie being the literal sexiest man on the planet, daddy kink, spit kink, spanking, cum eating, squirting, bondage, masterbation, Dom! Eddie, dirty talk, pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), BDSM themes, Eddie and Steve are in their early to mid 40s and reader is in her mid 20s

Summary: Eddie shows you a side of him you haven't seen before and things with Steve take a turn for the worst

Authors Note: Hi yall, i just wanted to say thank you for all the love on this series so far, ive really enjoyed writing it! also im very nervy about posting this chapter bc the smut is intense! i prommy it wont always be this intense but anyways ENJOY :D 9k

**Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three**

The next few days were spent mostly consoling Violet, she had made the decision to break up with Quinn. She didn’t trust them anymore and you didn’t blame her. You and Eddie took turns holding her when she cried or getting her to shower and eat food. It left little time for you and Eddie to spend time alone, never getting the chance to finish what you started after your date.

You could steal kisses here and there, but no heavy petting. It was driving you insane, it was like the universe was punishing you for dating your best friend’s dad.

After a few days she decided she needed to get out of Hawkins for a little while and went to spend a week at her mom’s. You made her promise to text her whenever she needed, and Eddie offered again to go over to talk to Quinn. She waved both of you off, reassuring you that she’d be fine. You drove her to the airport and off she went.

It made you feel guilty that you were so relieved that she had left, you felt like you were the worst best friend in the world. First dating her dad, and secondly happy she was leaving you after just having a brutal break-up.

What kind of friend are you?

You spent the next few days catching up on school, finally getting a chance to focus now that you didn’t have to worry about Violet as much. Not wanting to waste the very limited time the two of you had at Eddies, you spent the nights at his house covering the entire house in random textbooks and various versions of assignments. Sometimes the two of you would sit on the couch, he would watch tv while you studied, or you’d be in a chair out in the garage while Eddie played guitar and smoked. Or your favorite, cuddled up on his lap on his bed, Eddie silently reading a book and caressing the skin available to him.

It was perfect domestic bliss, he’d cook the two of you breakfast in the morning, and he’d come home to a homecooked meal in the evening. The only thing you were missing was his cock, mid terms were coming up and you were absolutely swamped. Spending all of your time that wasn’t spent at school, or working, was dedicated to more school. It was frying your brain.

Then one day you had finally had enough, another one of your professors had added another paper due on top of studying for all of your other exams. You had so many things you needed to get done before Thanksgiving you thought your head was going to explode.

You spent some time crying in your car that day, before walking up the driveway into Eddies house. Now a second home to you, you take off your shoes and head to Eddies bedroom and snuggling under the sheets, breathing in his scent. You hear Eddies familiar footsteps coming up the stairs into the bedroom the two of you basically shared.

“hey sweetpea-“ the rest of his greeting dying on his lips.

You feel him before you see him, he just slides into bed with you and holds you tightly against him. Then you lose it some more, crying into one of his pillows, just so stressed out. You needed all of it to go away, you didn’t want to think anymore.

He pushes the hair out of your face and wipes away your tears, “hey talk to me baby, what’s goin on? Hmm?” he questions, concern in his voice.

“It’s too much” you croak, turning over and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“Make it go away, please make it go away, my brain is so tired, I just need a break!” you sob harder into his embrace.

Eddie wrapped his arms around your body, protecting you from the outside world.

“I know baby, I know, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry” he says calmly, leaving little kisses in your hair.

The two of you tangled up together in silence, just him touching your skin and you holding on to him for dear life. It stays like this for a few minutes. You can practically hear Eddies mind working a thousand miles a minute.

“... do you really want it to go away?” Eddie asks, almost a whisper.

You nodded feverishly into his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer to you.

“Please,” you whisper into his chest.

Eddie pulls the two of you apart so you can see his face, his eyes serious with anticipation. He caresses your cheek with his hand, running his thumb across your lips.

“I wanna show you something, you don’t have to say yes. But I think it might help.” He says, waiting for your answer.

You nod your head, ready to try anything to get your brain to calm down. He takes you by your hands, carefully getting you up and on your feet. Being so gentle with you, almost like he was afraid you’d break if he moved to quick or touched you too hard. Eddie led you down the stairs into the kitchen, right in front of the basement door.

He looked at you anxiously, you rarely if ever saw him anxious, it made your heart rate spike a little feeding off his nervous energy.

He opens the door and leads you down into the basement, immediately confused by Eddies immense anxiety. It’s just a basement, it had loads of Eddies DnD books nicely tucked away on bookshelves, a huge circular table in the middle with papers scattered all over it, and a bunch of props and miniatures that you assumed Eddie used for various DnD campaigns. Eddie meets you at the bottom of the stairs and puts his hand in yours, his eyes still timid.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, I’ve been working on a new campaign.” He says while nervously scratching the back of his head. You squeeze his hand giving him some reassurance.

“Look, I know we haven’t been dating very long, but I really fucking like you. So just bear with me kay? I don’t wanna scare you off,” he states, fiddling with your fingers in his hands.

“You could never scare me off Eddie” you say plainly, having more admiration for him than almost anybody else.

With a sigh he guides you past all the DnD stuff into a hidden black door under the stairs, the door locked with a key padlock.

Eddie grabs a key off a chain that’s on his neck that he wears every day, you always thought it was just for decoration and not practical use. He turns the key into the lock and leads you into a dark room and turns on the light.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the room, not really sure what you’re seeing. The walls are blood red, various toys, whips, paddles, and a saint Andrews cross leaning in the corner between two walls. At the center of the room was a bed with black satin sheets, with a black bed frame with various hooks and chains attached to it.

You look at Eddie in surprise, you didn’t expect him to have a whole fucking sex dungeon in his basement. You were impressed, you usually only read about stuff like this in your books. Never thinking that you’d actually get to experience it in real life.

“This is uh, welcome to my dungeon” he says, grandiosely waving his hands to show off the room, chuckling nervously to himself. You smile lightly at him, still your goofy Eddie.

“You can totally tell me to fuck off, and we don’t ever have to talk about this ever again, scouts honor. I just.. I thought maybe because of the books you like to read. Maybe we had uhm similar interests,” he says, closing the door behind the two of you.

You’re still in awe of what you see before you, finding something new to look at every second, you start to feel yourself getting excited. The anxiety melting away the longer you were in this room, like it was magic.

“Please say something, anything, you’re killin’ me here darlin,” he says, pulling your hand to his lips, leaving tiny kisses in their wake.

You walk farther into the room, dusting your fingers along the various toys and instruments on the wall. Eddie follows suit, rubbing his arms up and down your shoulders while you look. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. He looks at you hungrily, waiting for your next move, you’ve never wanted him more.

“Turn off my brain Eds, please,” you beg, putting on your prettiest doe eyes.

Eddie curses under his breath and shakes his head trying to concentrate. He hugs you tightly as a thank you that you didn’t run out of the room kicking and screaming. He sits the two of you on a bench at the foot of the bed, holding your hands in his.

“Alright sweetness, I gotta lay down a few rules before we play, okay?” He says, clearly in his element. You nod, understanding what he means. Being familiar with the world of BDSM, but never getting to act on it before.

“First things first, safe words, If I ask you for your color, you respond with Green, Yellow, or Red. Green meaning you’re okay mentally and physically and I can keep going. Yellow meaning that you’re reaching your limit and I need to check in with you. Red meaning stop, you say this word and whatever scene we are doing will stop immediately and we will go into aftercare. I want you to feel safe during every single part of this, so don’t be afraid to stop a scene, okay? This is supposed to be fun for the both of us. Ya with me so far?” He smiles lightly trying to keep the tension light but letting know that he means business.

“With ya Eds,” you say with a nod of your head.

You can practically hear his heart swelling with pride. He continues to go through some more safety rules, what to do if you’re bound or gagged and can’t say a safe word. He goes through some walk throughs of what some of the various toys do, to see what piques your interest. He asks you if you know any of your hard or soft limits, you give him some basic ones, open to a lot considering you didn’t have a ton of real life experience in this department. You were starting to get a little nervous, hoping that you would live up to Eddies expectations.

He senses the panic inside you and squeezes your hands. “Don’t worry okay? You agreeing to try this with me is already a dream come true, I just want to help you feel better, help you let go.” He says sweetly.

You take a deep breath and lean back into him on the bench. He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your arms and then around your waist, tugging up the bottom of your shirt and lifting it over your head, and does the same with your leggings. He has you stand in front of him, leaving you in only your bra and underwear, your skin erupting in goosebumps when it hits the cold air.

“Beautiful,” he says breathlessly, his eyes scanning over every inch of your body. You look at him, you can see his cock already stiffening in the confines of his pants.

“Bend over for me baby,” he commands. Situating you over his lap, ass in the air, making your thoughts immediately cloud with want. You had never been in such a compromising position before and you loved it, showing yourself off to him.

“I’ll start slow, remember, any time you need to stop just say red and I’ll stop okay?” he reminds you one last time before he starts.

He readies you by palming each of your cheeks with his hands, increasing the pressure with each touch. You can already feel the heat rising in your body, your legs squirming together trying to find any sort of friction. Eddie seeing your desperation grabs your legs forcing them apart with his leg.

“You’re so fuckin cute, you’ll learn,” he warns, earning you a light slap across your left check. You gasp not expecting it, making your eyes roll back in pleasure, grinding your hips against Eddie’s clothed legs.

Two more light slaps come down on each cheek, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips grinding up wanting more. You can feel his length twitch underneath you with every smack, and your wetness seeping into your panties, you’d never been this desperate in your life.

“What’s your color princess, you doin okay?” he questions, genuine concern in his voice that makes your heart swell.

“Green Eds, m’ good,” you say hazily, your mind starting to cloud over.

With that confirmation he slowly increases the intensity of each slap, switching between your two cheeks. It only made you whimper louder, wanting even more. The slaps were now punishing, surely your cheeks bright pink from the abuse. You were surprised, you never thought something like this would feel so good. But you couldn’t help it, your panties now completely soaked through.

“You like that, you like when I hurt you?” he says, leaning into the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.  You nod wildly, not trusting your words.

You hear Eddie click his tongue, “Nuh uh pretty girl, down here you gotta use your words. Now I’m gonna ask again, you like it when I hurt you?” he demands, landing two more harsh slaps against your bottom.

“Yes, yes Eddie I like when you hurt me” you say desperately. Your body buzzing, every cell screaming with need. Your mind thinking of only him and the pain he gives you, mind completely blank.

“Good girl baby, doin such a good job” he praises, you smile at his praise, sinking further and further away from all the worries that had bothered you not a half hour ago.

He lands an especially mean slap on your right cheek pulling a loud moan out of your mouth, you can hear Eddies laugh vibrate through his chest.

“Fuck look at you baby, taking everything I give you. You’re my little pain slut aren’t you?” he mocks, tutting and rubbing at your now very red ass.

“Mhmm” you mutter brainlessly, trying to push your legs together, your clit on fire with need.

“Words pretty girl, I need words, that’s your last warning before you regret it,” he warns, gifting you another brutal slap.

“Y-yes, your pain slut, all yours,” you babble pathetically, desperate tears begging to spill from your eyes.

“Fuck me, yeah you are, C’mere let me look at you, get on your knees f’me” he says breathlessly, helping you off his lap and down between his legs. You lay your head against one of his knees, looking up at him between your eyelashes.

He brushes his hand across your cheek, rubbing your lips with his thumb. In your brainless state you allow his thumb into your mouth sucking on it while maintaining eye contact. You felt so free, knowing that he was going to take care of you, that you didn’t have to think anymore, giving up control gave your brain freedom that you wouldn’t have otherwise.

“Perfect” he utters, barely above a whisper, mesmerized by the way your mouth was sucking his thumb in, swirling the tip of his thumb with your tongue. Wanting more than just his thumb you tug on his pants and belt with your hand, but it wasn’t your turn to be in control. Eddie pulls the bottom of your chin up, straining your neck to meet his demand.

He pinches your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open wider. He takes his thumb out of your mouth replacing it with his pointer and middle fingers, seeing how deep you can put them down your throat. While maintaining eye contact, you suck his fingers all the way to the back of your throat until you choke lightly on them.

“You look so pretty with your mouth all full” he says as he leans down to leave a kiss on the side of your very full mouth.

All the praise becoming too much, squirming aimlessly in the air, whimpering around Eddies fingers. He seems to get a kick out of your desperation, cursing under his breath. All made more apparent by his very hard cock outlined in his pants.

“Alright sweet thing, climb up on the bed for me” he commands, tapping the silk sheets on the bed. You do as your told, meanwhile Eddie removes his shirt, belt, and pants. You look at him hungrily, with the playing field now level.

He sits down onto the bed next to you, pulling you into a deep kiss. Your bodies melt together, his hands everywhere, grabbing every inch of you. The two of you relax onto the bed, letting him kiss and nip and your skin, slowly taking off your bra and panties until you were completely bare in front of him.

He pulls your legs apart, not allowing you to hide any part of yourself from him. You were embarrassed by how wet you had gotten just from that act alone, he barely touched you.

Eddie curses under his breath, pulling apart your folds to see you dripping down your thighs.

“My needy needy girl”, he coos, dipping one of his fingers into your entrance, gathering some of your release on his fingers. He brings it up to your mouth, you suck in his fingers eagerly, wanting to please. Your release taste tangy and sweet, you moan around his fingers at the dirty act. Dipping his fingers back at your entrance, taking some of your release for himself, moaning around his fingers.

Focusing his attention back on you, he straddles you and puts your hands above your head and kisses you deeply. You feel him grind against your core making you buck up against him. Your groans filling the room, the tension becoming too much to bear.

“Need you eds, please,” you beg, the pressure between your legs driving you insane. That’s the only confirmation Eddie needed before taking his boxers off, sliding his throbbing cock in between your soaked folds. You wrap your legs around his back, pushing him harder against you.

He lines up his cock up to your entrance and slowly pushes in, his length pushing up against your cervix as he bottoms out. You whine, biting down on his shoulder, provoking a curse from his mouth.

“Color baby?” he asks breathlessly against your skin.

“Green Eds, really fucking green,” you grin against his shoulder, kissing the tattoo along his jaw.

Your words, diminishing the last of his resolve as he starts to thrust in and out of your heat slowly. Your eyes glass over, the pleasure being too much, you had never been so full. Not even your dildo doing half as much as Eddies cock.

“Shit, your pussy was fucking made for me, made to take my fucking cock,” he growls, biting down on a part of your neck, trying to contain his groans and whines.

You dig your claws into his back, wishing him deeper inside of you. Eddie using that as an okay to go faster, he grabs an edge of the bed frame for leverage. The wet sounds of his cock entering you drowning out your whimpers and moans.

“Uh, uh, uh, oh, fuuuckk E-eddie” you wail, your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open.

“You like that baby, you like it when I fuck you like the little slut you are? All you needed was a few slaps on your ass for you do go dumb huh?” he mocks, pistoning harder into your core.

“Yes, yes I fucking love it, more please,” you beg, you wanted to see how much more you could handle, the pleasure building between your legs.

Eddie takes one of his hands off the bed frame, cupping the sides of your jaw with his hand.

“Open,” he demands. You obey, all rational thoughts gone long ago. Taking the opportunity, he spits sloppily into your mouth, you swallow and take what he gives your greedily.

“Atta girl, doing what your told” he sighs proudly, going back to concentrating rocking his hips against yours with vigor. You could feel yourself getting close, all of it becoming too much, the fucking, the slapping, the dirty talk, it was all perfect. You were plummeting quickly to your release, your walls spasming in anticipation.

“If you keep squeezing me like that m’ not gonna last much longer,” he confesses, leaving little kisses on your neck.

“Eds- I- fuck- I’m gonna cum- please cum in me please, need your cum,” you beg, feeling your release threatening to take over.

“Fuck,” he curses, you can feel his pace getting sloppier, fucking you through your release. Your legs shaking, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes glazed over, having the biggest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life.

Your walls clamp down on Eddie, not lasting much longer after you, spilling his seed into your waiting center. You feel his release spill out onto your thighs and sheets.

“Please tell me you’re on the pill” he mutters into your chest, sweat covering both of your bodies. You giggle and caress his hair, playing with his dark brown and greying curls.

“Yeah, ‘m on the pill,” you confirm, leaving a kiss at the top of his head. Eddie sighs thankfully on your chest, followed by a few minutes of silence from the two of you. Basking in each others after sex glow, gentle touches and light kisses.

You stay cuddled up for a while, neither of you wanted to go back to reality. The basement was like your safe place, where both of you could let go, like really let go. He saw things in you today that up until now, you had never let anyone see that side of you. He allowed you the same, taking down his walls showing you everything he had to offer.

He showed that he really cared about you, that he could take care of you even when your brain was against you. That was something you had never had before, someone who knew you and cared about you enough to help you fight the endless battles in your brain. You swore to yourself right there that you’d help him fight his battles too.

After a while he got up and got you a glass of water and a warm washcloth to help wipe you off. Your center still sensitive from your previous activities. Eddie was gentle, taking his time, making sure you were physically okay. He even put cream on your sore, soon to be bruised ass, after many many kisses that made you blush.

His teddy bear eyes looking into yours, while the two of you lay naked in bed, him painting circles on your face.

“How’s your head now baby? Better?” he asked hopeful. Tears form at the tips of your eyes, you nod your head vigorously. Your tears making Eddies eyes fill with concern.

“What baby? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asks soothingly.

You shake your head, trying to find the words for what you were feeling. “No no I’m fine, I’m just.. happy. My brain is so quiet, I can’t remember the last time my brain was so quiet.” You sob into Eddies chest, pulling him closer into you. He wraps his arms around you and shushes your tears, wiping them from your face leaving little kisses in their wake.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here, I gotcha” he says, comforting you with more kisses, squeezing you tighter against him. The two of you spend the rest of the night down in the basement, eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms, completely content.

When you wake up the following morning, you are still wrapped up in each other’s arms, Eddie still lightly snoring. You take this time to really take him in, his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, the laugh lines around his lips, his lips so pink and plush, the light wrinkles around his eyes, the dark curly brown hair that falls in front of his face, you didn’t know how you got so lucky. Not only is Eddie quite literally the sweetest man you had ever met in your life, but he’s also the most handsome.

You snuggle back into him, basking in his embrace. A little while later he wakes from sleep, stretching out, allowing you to get up and go to the bathroom.

“Hey little missy where do you think you’re goin?” he asks, pouting in bed patting the space where you were previously occupying.

“Just gotta pee,” you whisper, hoping maybe he will fall back asleep, but Eddie is stubborn.

“Just hold it, come back and cuddle,” he whines. You chuckle and kiss the top of his head before putting on his Metallica t shirt and heading out the door and up the stairs to the kitchen. You walk into the downstairs bathroom and gasp at the state you were left in. You still had mascara smudges under your eyes from crying and cumming, your hair was sticking up every which way, you looked a mess. And yet the beautiful man downstairs still wanted you, lucky you.

After you clean up a little and comb through your hair, you head to the kitchen to grab the two of you something to eat. You hear the basement door open, and the man you were just thinking about emerges, wearing only his boxers.

“I get to fuck the girl of my dreams AND she made me breakfast, I can die a happy man,” he remarks, enveloping you into a passionate kiss. You giggle against him, still not used how much he likes you.

“And you’re wearing my shirt,” he comments, taking a handful of your ass in each hand making you hiss, your butt still sore from the beating it received the day before.

“Just wanna touch base, everything yesterday was okay right? It wasn’t exactly what I picture our first time to be like but, I don’t regret it. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, definitely did not disappoint,” he expresses.

“It was better than I could’ve imagined Ed, really. You were beautiful.” You confess, going on your tippy toes to steal a kiss from him.

The two of you spend the rest of the morning cuddled up on the couch eating breakfast, before you had to part ways. You had classes most of the day and Eddie had to go into the office for work.

Leaving Eddie was the hardest part of any day, but especially today. You had Steves class today, you always dreaded going after everything went down between the two of you. You wished to stay here forever.

The two of you share way too many last kisses before the two of you leave his house in your respective cars. You needed to go to your apartment before class to change, and then Sociology 101.

You waited as long as you possibly could before going into the classroom, you’ve started a routine of avoiding Steve as much as humanly possible. But when you entered the class, instead of being met by Steves sad eyes, you were met by a balding older man with grey hair. You look around at the rest of the class as you make your way to your seat, they also seem equally as confused as you. The man in the front of the class introduces himself as Professor McCarthy, he explained that he was going to take over for Steve for the time being.

“Where is Professor Harrington?” The girl who sits behind you asks, a slight whine in her voice.

“He has taken a seemingly well-deserved sabbatical,” Professor McCarthy confesses with zero empathy in his voice.

You can barely pay attention during class, your thoughts swimming threatening to drown you.

Why did he leave?

Was it because of you?

Does Robin know?

Was he forced to take a leave?

Did people find out about the two of you?   

You hated to admit it, but a small part of your brain was trying to say something. Loud enough for you to hear it through the madness.

Is he okay?

You didn’t know why, but you still cared about Steve. Even though he hurt you, you wanted to know he was alright. After so many weeks of getting to know him, you knew how much being a teacher meant to him. You knew how passionate he is about the subject he teaches; it worried you that he could just leave. It had to mean something was really wrong.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur, the new professors voice conveniently very easy to drone out. You were the first one to leave the room once class was over. Speed walking down the hall, heading to the only place you knew you’d find answers.

You knock on the door to Robins office, hoping that she was in today.

“Come in!” she calls out.

She looks startled when she sees you standing in her doorway, expecting to see a student with questions about an assignment.

“Uh, hi.” You say awkwardly, still standing in the doorway.

“Hey Y/N, come in, why don’t you sit down,” she offers kindly, already knowing why you’re here.

“Where is he?” you ask bluntly.

Robin sighs before answering, her eyes moving, trying to think of the best way to explain it to you.

“He just needed a break, and the board allowed it,” she says plainly

“I wanna talk to him,” you confess, words leaving your mouth before you could think. Yes, you were upset with Steve, definitely hurt. But that doesn’t mean that you wanted him to leave his job, the both of you are adults. You feel guilty, like you’re the reason he left, and you needed closure.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea honey,” Robin says empathetically.

Your heart drops.

“Please? At least think about it, okay? I’m not mad anymore, I just, I wanna make sure he’s okay,” you admit, hoping to clear the air.

Robin nods and promises that she’ll think about it, but she didn’t seem very convincing. The following days after, dragged on, still piled high with homework. Made worse now because your new sociology professor is the worst, he talked too fast and without any tone in his voice, you caught a few students falling asleep in his class, it was that bad.

Eddie helped a lot, staying over at your house some nights to cuddle up with you after staring at your computer screen for hours on end. You felt guilty that you were so worried about Steve, when you had the perfect man in front of you. You convinced yourself it was just guilt, you just wanted to make sure he’s okay.

Then you got lucky, one morning when you walked into Robins classroom, where you usually sat was a note.

“Here’s his number, don’t make me regret it.” Was etched into the paper.

Your heart flutters in anticipation as hope fills your chest. You spend time after class thinking about the right thing to say, do you text him? Do you call him? You decide on a text, thinking a text is less daunting than calling him.

“Hey Steve, its Y/N. heard about ur sabbatical, hope ur okay” Not really sure what to say, your finger hovers over the send button for a few seconds before you send it. Immediately followed by you throwing your phone across the room.

What the fuck are you doing?

You spend the next couple of hours on your laptop doing your homework, sneaking peaks at your phone, triple checking that you hadn’t missed any messages from Steve. You reasoned with yourself that he might be on vacation or at least just busy. You try to get out of your head and focus on your homework.

The next few days you spent checking your phone every once in awhile looking for a text from Steve that hadn’t come. You were starting to get anxious, even a little worried. The semester was coming to a close, all your assignments turned in and only one mid term left to take. You had come to terms with the idea that Steve just wasn’t going to text you back, he didn’t owe you anything, I guess you’d just have to find closure on your own.

Until one afternoon, the day before thanksgiving, you get a text.

“I miss u”

You stare at your phone, double checking that the text was coming from the right number, Steve’s number. Concern floods your system, this is unlike him.

“Steve? R u okay?”

“I meszed it all up Y/N, im sry”

You’re heart now threatening to beat out of your chest, something was wrong, really wrong. You’re old enough to know when you’re getting a drunk text, what if he was out somewhere alone in this state? You needed to make sure he was okay, or at least somewhere safe.

“Steve tell me where u are, r u safe?”

“Come overrr” is all that is written, followed by a ping to an address. You grab your keys and your coat without a second thought. You get in your car and drive faster than what was probably safe, thoughts only on Steve.

When you finally get to the address, it takes you to a huge house on the outside of town. You let yourself through the gate and park in the huge driveway. You knock on the front door, it squeaks open lightly, you take deep breath and let yourself in. The house is massive, like really big, like old money big. The place is so big, you wander around for a little while searching the various extravagant rooms on the first floor until you find Steve in what you assume is the study.

He's slumped over onto his desk, his hand holding a fancy glass filled with amber liquid. You knock on the side of the door, jostling Steve from his drunk stupor.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” his words slightly slurred.

“Uh, you texted me, you gave me this address,” you feel your heart drop into your stomach, you knew this was a bad idea.

You see Steve’s bloodshot eyes search for the memory of sending you his address, raking his hands through his hair. Steve looked like he hadn’t taken care of himself for awhile, stains all over t-shirt and sweatpants. Your heart ached seeing him this way, guilt washed over you like a tsunami. This entire time you were thinking about yourself and your own closure, and not about the clearly broken man sitting before you.

“This was a mistake, I should go,” you admit before turning in the doorway to leave the way you came in.  

“No, p-please wait! I- fuck everything is so fucked up I don’t know what to do anymore. Just stay.” He looks up at you through his glassy red eyes, begging you to stay.

You decide to stay, you step closer to his desk to get a better look at the state he’s in. He probably hasn’t showered in days, and he reeked of alcohol.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” is all you can think to say, you can’t stand to see him this way any longer.

Steve allows you to get him up and out of the chair, the two of you half stumble while he shows you how to get to the master bathroom. You help him get out of his clothes until he’s left in just his boxers, you do your best not to stare. Even in the state he’s in, you still fought the urge to drool at the sight of him. You turn on the hot water, and look at him sitting on the toilet almost completely naked.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he mumbles groggily.

You suck in a deep breath and let it out harshly, you had always known that. If you knew anything about Steve Harrington, you know that he couldn’t hurt a fly. But you couldn’t believe anything he was saying right now. He was still drunk, and you didn’t know how he was going to feel once he sobered up.

“Why don’t you get in the shower, and we can talk once you’re out, okay?” you reassure him, leaving the room to give him space.

His bedroom was a mess, clothes and random liquor bottles everywhere, you tidy it up the best you can before making your way back downstairs to the kitchen. The kitchen is huge, meant for a chef or someone who really likes to cook. But instead, you see containers of take out and microwave dinners piled in the over flowing garbage and more dishes crowding in the sink. You take out the garbage and do the dishes.

By the time you’re finishing up the dishes you hear footsteps pattering into the kitchen.

“Hi” he says meekly.

“Hi” you reply, placing the last dish into the dishwasher.

He stands next to you, one hand on the counter and one hand on his hip, trying to think of what to say. He opens and closes his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“It’s fine really Steve, I’m happy to help,” you confess, turning your body to face him.

Steve looks down at his hands, when he looks back up at you, fresh tears have formed on his lash line.

“I’m the worst, aren’t I?” he questions, his voice breaking.

Your heart broke with him, “No Steve, you’re not the worst. At little messed up, definitely. But far from the worst.”

He looks at you gratefully before he continues speaking.

“I- I thought you hated me. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how I screwed things up so badly. I’m sorry I brought you all the way out here. I just... fuck I just missed you Y/N,” he babbles, his tears now flowing down his face in little streams.

You walk a few steps closer to him, not trusting yourself to touch him.

Eddie, remember Eddie.

“I don’t hate you Steve, I could never hate you. I was just hurt and confused. Honestly, I still am hurt and confused, I just. I couldn’t bear the thought of you not teaching or being upset because of me. That’s why I came,” you reassure him, hoping your eyes show him the rest. That you do care for him, and want him to be okay.

Steve nods, mulling over your words, wiping his eyes. Then you hear some buzzing on the marble kitchen counter. Steve’s phone goes off, he looks at his phone and answers it immediately. You can hear Robins worried voice on the other end of the phone anxiously babbling questions off at him. You felt good knowing that even if you weren’t in Steves life, he still had Robin.

“No, ugh Rob I’m fine, please you don’t need to come and check on me.”

“Yes, I’ve showered. NO! Don’t bring Nancy, I don’t want her to see me like this.” He rubs his forehead, probably nursing a headache.

Steve hangs up the phone and looks at you.

“Uhm, Rob is coming over, and.. you probably shouldn’t be here when she gets here” he says awkwardly, he looks like he has more to say but decided against it.

You nod your head in understanding. Steve walks you to the front door, thanks you a million more times before waving you off as you get in your car and drive away.

You pull of on the side of the road, a few blocks from Steves place. You put your arms around the steering wheel, thinking about what just happened.

He is just a friend, someone you care about who needed your help.

You shake your head out of your thoughts and head back to your apartment. As you pull into the parking lot your phone dings, you park your car and look at the notification lighting up your phone screen.

“Come over stinky butt 🍑”

You smile at your phone, of course it’s Eddie, the one who makes you feel safe. The one you don’t have to take care of or worry about, your rock. You put your car in reverse, and drive towards Eddies house. The closer you get to Eddies house, the more every loud thought of Steve was quieting to a whisper, you sigh in relief.

“Vi?!” you say cautiously, a routine you were now used to.

Eddie pokes his head out of the kitchen, “Just me babe” a smile plastered across his face. You smile back and head into the kitchen, only to immediately be scooped up into a hug and lifted off your feet. You breathe in Eddies scent, allowing it to ground you back into your reality.

“Mmm missed you,” Eddie murmurs in between kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist, deepening the kiss.

“Missed you too Eds,” Eddie groans against you, pushing you against the counter.

The two of you kiss some more, allowing yourselves to get lost in each other. When you finally pull back you look into Eddies eyes, they just seem tired. You cup your hand around his face, and his cups your hand with his; grateful for the affection.

“Can I show you something?” he asks, only admiration in his eyes. You kiss him as a yes, and let him guide you back down into the basement. You stomach doing flips remembering the last time the two of you spent time down here. But this time he leads you into the main room. The circular table previously covered in random campaign research, now completely clean except for two stacks of paper in front a chair at the head of the table.

He pulls back the chair, next to the head and ushers you into it. You sit down, looking at him inquisitively. He sits down at the head of the table, clearing his voice before he speaks.

“So, the other day, I really liked seeing that side of you. And I wanted to know if you felt the same way, and if maybe you wanted to do it again,” he confesses, searching for the answer in your eyes. His gaze lights a fire in your belly, and a growing ache between your legs, remember the previous activities down here.

You bite your lip and look at him, trying to find the right words, “I’d like that a lot, I like when you take control,” you confide in him, nudging your leg against his under the table. Eddie takes in a deep breath before speaking again, “I just wanted to go over some more safety stuff, if we are going to really do this, and not have it be a one time thing,” handing you one of the stacks of paper in front of him.

He goes onto explain to you that this is not a contract, but more of a mostly complete list of limits that he wanted the two of you to fill out before playing again. He clarifies that the reason for this is so that neither of you ever accidently make the other feel uncomfortable during a scene. Your eyes looking over the papers curiously, overwhelmed by all the different things listed. He had to explain a few of them to you, him being more experienced than you were. You could feel the tension in the room heating up, and your panties dampening.

Finally, you’re on the last page, your knee bouncing up and down in anticipation.

“Where is Violet?” you ask, a little bit too much excitement in your voice. You see his eyes darken and a smirk splay across his lips.

“She’s working night shift” he says grabbing your chair and bringing it closer to his side, grabbing your thigh harshly.

You let out a shaky breath, you needed this, him. You go to put your hand around his neck to pull him into a kiss, but he grabs your wrist.

“Finish what I’ve asked of you pretty girl” leaving a kiss at the shell of your, evoking goosebumps across your skin.

You swallow hard, all the moisture gone from your mouth. You look back down on the paper, finishing it as fast at you can before looking back up at him for more instructions.

“Good job baby, I’m proud of you. You follow instructions so well” he praises, leaving a light kiss on your cheek. He pulls his eyes away from you for a bit, looking through all of your limits or things you are willing to try. You take this time to do the same with him, shocked by a few things, but even more turned on. Once you’re done reading you look up to see him staring at you hungrily.

“Ready to play sweet thing?” he says, pupils blown in lust.

“Ready,” you say breathlessly, willing air into your lungs.

“One more thing before we start, I like Daddy and Master, just so you know,” he winks at you, and it takes everything in you to stop your knees from buckling.

He takes you by your hand and walks with you to the secret door under the stairs. Your body buzzing, wanting to touch the man in front of you anywhere and everywhere. He opens the door and lets the two of you in. Once the door is closed, he envelops you into a deep kiss, you whimper at his lips on yours.

“Mm fuck, I love your little noises” he hisses, lifting you up by your legs and guiding you to wrap them around his waist. He sits down on the bed, leaving you to straddle his waist. The sheets were changed since you were here last, now a silky maroon color. You take the opportunity to grind your hips down on his lap while he grabs at the skin available to him, the two of you moaning into each other’s mouths. His lips tasting like the last cigarette he smoked, chasing his tongue with yours. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, the way his bulge was rubbing against your clit could make you cum right now with how worked up you are. You moan a little louder into Eddies mouth, making him pull back and look at your already fucked out expression.

“Look at you baby, already so desperate” he teases, lifting you off of him for a second to slide your leggings and panties off. He guides you back onto his lap, situating his fingers at your center, swiping them through your folds. Lifting his hands up to find them glistening with your juices.

“And already so fucking wet, such a needy little slut” he says, sticking his fingers into his mouth. You go back to grinding your hips against his bulge, not being able to help yourself, your clit aching with need.

Eddie stills your hips with his hand, grabbing at your ass and tits roughly before taking off your shirt, leaving you naked except your bra. Eddie takes this time to kiss all the skin newly available to him. You moan loudly into the open room, trying your best to obey and not rock your hips against his.

This task became harder and harder the longer his lips were on yours, kissing that spot on your neck that you like, nipping at your lips, kissing your newly exposed nipples. It was all too much, you grind your hips into his without thinking, and that’s when he swiftly turns the turns the two of you over. You can feel the silk sheets against your back, and his hands on your hips. You whine in protest, trying to rock your hips into his once more.

“Awe, my girl just can’t stay still huh? I can help with that,” He taunts, leaving you to lay on the bed, going into the little nightstand on the side of the bed.

He comes back into view holding leather cuffs in his hands, and a sinister look on your face. He takes his time kissing each of your wrists before helping you into the cuffs, doing the same thing with your ankles. You take a look at your wrists, now partially covered by the leather material, it was tight but not too tight. You feel Eddie move around you before grabbing one of your wrists in his hand lightly hearing a clicking sound as he lays it back down on the bed. You go to pick up your wrist again, realizing you can’t. You look at the head of the bed to see your cuff connected to a restraint in the frame. He continues to do the same thing with your other wrist and both of your ankles.

His stare could bore holes into skin the way that it heated you up from the inside. You struggle lightly against the restraints, trying to test how much movement you had in each limb, which wasn’t much. He sits next to you on the bed, palming your face in one of his hands.

“Color baby?” he questions.

“Green!” you say brightly, excited for the adventure ahead of you.

“Doin’ so good for me” he coos, and then his touch is gone and he’s somewhere in the room. You can hear random rustling but you can’t lift up your head enough to see what he’s grabbing.

He comes back next to you seemingly empty handed, and then he lifts up his hands to you to show you his haul. He has a single black die in his one hand, and a vibrating wand in the other.

“So, we’re gonna play a little game, I’m going to roll the dice. Whatever number the dice lands on, is how many times you have to edge until I let you cum.” He says, he usually chocolate brown eyes now almost black with lust.

You lick your lips and think about how to respond, “Y-yes Daddy” you utter, your face heating up at the new pet name. You hear Eddie curse under his breath. He rolls the die next to your head on the nightstand and chuckles. His face coming close to yours with a wicked grin on his face.

“Can you handle three, angel?” he snickers, leaving kisses along your jaw line, nipping lightly. You nod hurriedly, wanting to be good for the man above you. With that he kisses you deeply one more time before spreading your legs, your dripping core on display for him to see.

You watch him spit messily on the wand and then once more on your heat, spreading it generously on your clit. You hiss at the contact, bucking your hips up slightly wanting more. You hear the hum of the vibrator as Eddie turns it on low, your body full of anticipation, waiting for any sort of pleasure. That’s when you feel it, the low vibration against your clit. You squirm against it at first, wanting more already.

Eddie chuckles lowly above you, “I should call you my little bunny by how much you move, would you like that sweetness? To be my little bunny?” he taunts, turning up the vibration higher, pulling a moan from your lips.

“Yes daddy, wanna be your bunny, your good little bunny” you writhe against the restraints. He rewards you by turning up the vibrator another notch, the pressure quickly building in your stomach.

You writhe against the restraints as the pressure becomes too much, coming it waves, so close to sending you over the edge. And then it’s gone, the vibration still audible in the room but you can no longer feel it. You groan in frustration, you were so fucking close.

“Two more baby, then you can cum” he reassures you. He takes this time, to let the fire inside you simmer. He takes off his shirt and his pants, leaving him in only his boxers. You see him palming himself, you bite your lip, wanting nothing more than to worship his cock.

You feel the vibration once again but this time instead of starting out slow, the vibration knocks the wind out of you. Your clit screaming at you for release, the coil inside you already winding tighter and tigher, your curl your toes, willing yourself not to cum. Then the sensation is gone once again, your body now covered in sweat from being so close twice now, your chest heaving heavily up and down.

“You’re doin so good bunny, just one more for me, kay? Still green?” he asks.

You nod your head not trusting your words, whimpers coming out instead. Eddie takes off his boxers, showing off his now very erect and hard cock, making your mouth water. Stroking it a few times before lining it up with your mouth.

“Spit Bunny” he commands.

You whimper and do as you’re told, gathering all the salvia in your mouth and spitting it onto his tip. He sighs and works your spit around his cock, moaning loudly. He’s teasing you, you’re strapped to the bed and can’t even touch him. He is evil incarnate, and you can’t get enough.

You were so entranced by watching Eddie work his hand over his cock you had forgot what the two of you were doing, until you felt the vibration on the highest setting hit your clit.

You yelp in surprise, keeping your eyes on his cock. Thinking about how his cock feels inside of you, how it stretches you out, hits a spot inside of you that you could never reach. You wanted it, no, you needed it, you needed him or you were going to explode. Your orgasm hurtling towards you like a freight train.

“D-Daddy i- please, i- im gonna cum” you gush, holding your eyes tightly closed, willing yourself not to cum before you’re given the okay. But instead, the vibration is gone, and your orgasm ruined.

You wail in frustration, tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill out, legs shaking. You were so desperate you didn’t even know why you were crying. You feel Eddie unclip your restraints, giving you full range of motion again, you rubbed your wrists thankfully. Eddie pulling you into a hug, kissing the tears out of your eyes.

“You did so good for me baby, you’re such a good girl for Daddy,” he mumbles into your skin. You allow him to hold you for a minute before the need between your legs takes over.

You let out the breath you were holding shakily. Looking at him in anticipation. You lie back down on the bed and open your legs, two could play at this game. You swirl your finger around your aching clit, moaning dramatically. Grabbing your left tit, pinching lightly between your two fingers, giving him a show.

Two firm hands grab both of your wrists putting them above your head, “You coulda just asked sweetness, not that I mind the show, I just had something else in mind” he mocks.

He climbs on top of you, lining his cock up at your entrance, swiping it through your soaked folds.

“Beg for it, beg for my cock,” he demands.

“Please, please I need your cock, please please, I’ve been good, please let me have your cock,” you whine.

With that he pushes into your core, both of you moaning in unison. His pace already quick chasing his own high.

“Fuck your pussy is so fuckin tight” he says, eyes closed trying to hold off his own orgasm. He lifts your legs, bending you almost in half, hitting a spot inside that makes you scream.

“Fuck yes, yeah right there, holy fuck!” you wail.

Doing what he’s told he pistons into you harder, making the wet noises in the room get louder and louder. You can feel pressure building inside you, but it feels different, it feels bigger.

“Can I cum, please can I cum?” not being able to hold it off any longer, eyes pleading with Eddie.

“Yeah, baby go ahead, cum for me, cum for daddy,” he groans.

Then your vision whites out, every cell in your body imploding with pleasure, you feel your release spill out of you and onto the sheets, messily.

“Holy shit- fuck!” is the only warning you get before Eddie’s hips stutter, and he spills his seed inside of you.

“What the fuck” is all you can muster in your fucked out state.

“Yeah what the fuck indeed princess, I didn’t know you could squirt” he says breathlessly, scooping you into his arms, the two of you laying next to each other trying to catch your breaths.

“I didn’t either, I’ve never done it before” you confide, Eddies eyes shining bright with pride. You roll your eyes at him, the last thing he needed was a bigger ego.

“Don’t let it go to your head mister,” you say with a jab to his chest.

“No, I absolutely am, thanks though” he says, putting his hand over his chest like he’s accepting a badge of honor.

The two of you spend the rest of the night down there in each other’s arms, eventually, Eddie gives you his t-shirt and goes to grab the two of you a snack and a glass of water.

“Was this okay? I didn’t hurt you or make you upset, right?” he asks.

You shake your head, “No not at all, I loved every second, can’t wait to do it again,” you say with a wiggle of your eyebrows. It makes Eddie crack a smile and leave a small kiss on your head.

“I just like feeling wanted, you know how stuff like this clears your head? It clears mine too, all I need to do is be there for you, and focus on you. Then my brain is quiet, so thank you,” he confesses, stealing a kiss from your lips. You smile up at him, if you could give him the whole world you would in an instant.

“I think I want to tell Vi, I’m nervous but I’m starting to feel guilty hiding all of this from her. I like you a lot, and she deserves to know what makes me happy,” he says looking sleepily in your eyes.

“You make me happy too, we can tell Vi this weekend, okay? I don’t like hiding things from her either,” you reassure him.

He nods back at you sleepily, snuggling in closure to you like a dog. Eventually the two of you fall asleep, completely content.

***Reblogs/comments are appreciated***

Tag List! **if you want to be added to the tag list just lemme know, just need to be 18+**

@sweetblinginrose @tlclick73 @paleidiot @frogtape @too-efn-old-to-be-here @peaches-roses-sins @micheledawn1975 @untitled74745 @hellv1ra @alastorssimp @star-of-velaris @yeaiamme2 @itdobe-liza @mmaaddyy @cozyquinn

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #older!eddie munson #older eddie munson #older! steve harrington #older steve harrington

[scholastic-dragon]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! ✨

I love your writing and when I saw your birthday post I was so psyched!

Would you please write something about the turtles (Bayverse or ROTTMNT, your choice) and the worst time/ place they’ve gotten erect? Maybe how the deal with it? Why they got aroused in the first place? Let your mind run wild ;)

Sometimes your partner or crush just gets to you and you can’t control your desire ;>

• Female reader/ or what ever you’re comfortable writing for

• Developed or no developed relationship

•All the turtles or just one you really like to write for (up to you)

• A short story or head-canons work equally well

Essentially go with whatever you feel most comfortable writing for with the prompt! Thank you! And have fun /^v^/

Also here’s some birthday cake for the road! 🎂 🍰🧁🎉

HAHAHAHAHHAHA I love this

Erection Directions

I'm thinking bay!boys but either works

MINORS DNI - LOTS OF SEXY STUFF BELOW - TURTLES ARE 20+ IN THIS - DONT BE WEIRD

Leo

Well....you see.... it was patrol

It was a slow night, they weren't planning on going out, everyone's in a bad mood

And then you call

And he let's the guys take a break and sneaks off behind a secluded wall to answer the call

"Hey love, were on patrol is there somehting you need-"

"I think I need you to come over and fuck me,"

😳 (the turtle was too stunned to speak)

Swallows his tongue and has to clear his throat before responding.

You flirt and banter for a moment, then it becomes clear that your hand in inside your blue panties (that you sent a lewd picture of)

"Baby, I can't I'm on patrol" He responds after you ask for a video of his "achingly hard cock" as he put it

"How am I supposed to get off if I don't hear your pretty moans?" You tease

Damn

Peering around the wall, he unzips his pants and aims the camera at his hard cock. He catches the soft moan from his lips and his thumb rubbing precum along the shaft.

After a minute he stops recording and sends it your way. He hears your excited moan over the phone.

He grips himself harder.

"I wish you were here right now, inside me instead of my hand,"

That makes him stroke faster, your voice, the knowledge that he's doing this out in the cold night air spurring him on.

He feels his release getting closer, and he hears your responding moans.

"I'm gonna-"

"Oi, fearless!" Like the ass he is, raph comes around the corner.

Leo drops his phone in an attempt to cover himself. "Come on!" He yells.

Raph turns and yells, both to him and Donnie and Mikey. "I'm fucking done, I'm going home, fuck this!"

Donnie asks. "What happened?"

"He's fucking jerking it!" The red brute yells, making the other two start complaining.

"Whyd we even come out here?!"

"I had work to do that you made me put down!"

Leo scrambles on the ground, putting his hand over the microphone. "Patrols over, go home!" He simply yells

He sighs and tucks his own soft cock into his pants. He's upset and extremely embarrassed.

When he lifts the phone to his ear, he hears you laughing your ass off.

Raph

It was the weights room

He lives in there

And you, his new and flashy crush, are now also "living" in here

You claimed it was stupid to pay for a gym membership when you could simply hang out here

And because he's in love with you, he agreed

Now, he regrets it.

You're doing squats while holding a dumbell and the way your ass and thighs look right now should be illegal.

He's laying on the bench press, not even trying to be sneaky as he watches you go up....and down....and up.....and down

And now something else is up

Very up and not at all sneaky.

His head snaps to the ceiling, his hands shaking as he holds the bar above his head.

His heart is pounding hard. A lot like how hard he wants to pound you-

He shakes his head and the bar nearly comes crashing down on his face

"Raph!" You rush over and stand above his head, grabbing the bar around his fingers and lifting it (with his help)

And great, now he's got a view of the underside of your breasts, and the sweet sweaty skin of your bare stomach. Oh, and your delicious thighs are there too.

His cock pulses beneath his shorts.

"Are you okay?" You help him put the bar back, leaning over to look down at him.

Now he can see your cleavage.

"Um" He goes to answer but no words come out.

You sigh and straighten up, and your eyes rake down his body.

He tenses. Your eyes go wide and your cheeks flame.

Shit.

Donnie

Donnie was working under the truck

He's on a custom made rolling cart, his hips peeking out from under thr garbage truck.

He's got headphones on, listening to an audio book you recommended.

It's a romance and the characters just had their first kiss.

He's working and listening, not really paying attention.

"His lips traveled down her neck, making a spike of heat run down her body to her pussy"

Woah

He stopped working for a moment, swallowing hard and taking in what was happening.

The scene progressed and got dirtier and dirtier, to the point where he was aching and hard in his pants

It was late, no one was awake.

He rolled out from under the truck, wiped off his hands and undid his pants.

He tried to match the pace of the book, and man this person was doing a really good job on the voices

For a moment he imagined you and him fooling around like the characters were

His strokes became fast. Slick sounds filling the quiet garage

As the characters hit their peak, so did he, moaning softly and cumming in his hand, it spills down onto his chest and pants.

He sighs, opening his eyes and nearly passing out.

On the other side of the garage, your sitting with your hand in your pants, your lip caught between your teeth

Your eyes meet.

He removes the headphones, feeling hot and sweaty at your flushed cheeks

You smile, all seductive and it makes his cock twitch.

"Chapter 24?"

Hes up and rushing to you, fully intending on acting out the full Chapter.

Mikey

It's while you and him are making dinner

It's mundane and it smells almost as good as you do

You have a smile on your face as you try to remember what each brother likes and it makes his heart warm

He stirs the gravy and asks you to come try it.

He doesn't expect you to take his wrist and lead his spoon to your lips. Wrapping it around the silver and sucking the gravy off.

Now other things are warm

"Mmm!" You moan, licking your lips. "That's really good mike!"

Very warm

It stays that way until everyone is eating at the table

Mikey sees your eyes drift down his plastron as a drop of gravy falls off his bite of potatoes

Your breath catches as you notice the tent in his shorts

Everyone is busy taking and chatting about... oh he has no idea what anybody is talking about

Especially when you smirk and let your hand sneak under the table

You grip his thigh and he nearly cums in his pants from that

You scratch your way up his leg, griping him through his shorts and underwear

He shoves food in his mouth to keep from being too loud. Your hand feels amazing

It's a bit clumsy with the angle and clothes in the way, but he's still very much so getting off

He manages to keep himself quiet as he cums, staning his shorts. You shoot him another cheeky smile.

The hand that was griping him, moves the the table and "accidentally" knocks over a glass of water onto his lap

He gasps at the cold and everyone turns to look

"Oh, mike, I'm sorry! I'm so clumsy!" Your eyes flash with mischief

"It's fine, y/n," He touches your arm. "Come help me get some towels to clean this up,"

No towels were got, but a big mess was made.

@thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83

#i had a little too much fun with this lmao #theyre idiots your honor #and i love them #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #tmnt x reader #tmnt aged up #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt headcanons #it is my works #thanks for the ask!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You and Eddie are trapped in the drama club after school in the middle of a thunderstorm. Feelings ensue.

I was going to post this tomorrow but I'm feeling kinda crappy so am posting it now ♥️ this is enemies to oh my god I'm falling for you fic.

💞

Hawkins was in the middle of the worst storm it had seen in years. The rain hadn't stopped since this morning and you could hear thunder rumbling in the distance.

All in all you wished you were tucked up at home right now instead of making your way to the drama room.

You weren't sure what possessed you to even bother going to find Eddie. Surely you had seen enough of him today that avoiding him would be a no brainer.

Eddie had been your enemy from the day the two of you first met. You met him at a talent show in middle school and were performing with your fellow cheerleaders, Eddie was performing with his band Corroded Coffin and the two of you met backstage and well sparks flew and not in a good way.

He looked different then. A buzz cut and a little less dramatic but still the same smug smile and condescending tone. That meeting kick-started the war between the two of you.

Except his stupid little barb aimed at you had been playing on your mind all day. He loved irritating you and spent a good portion doing it earlier.

Even worse he had left his metal lunchbox at your shared table in Mrs O'Donnell's class and you weren't carrying that monstrosity around all weekend.

So you decided to show up at Hellfire, straight after cheer practice to return the item. You don't want to spend any more time with Eddie than necessary so you'll make this quick.

You can hear him setting up for Hellfire and muttering to himself. Taking a deep breath you head inside the drama room and he peers up at you, irritation on his face.

"Princess to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He says with a hint of derision in his tone and you hurry over to place the lunchbox on the table. Now you could get far far away from the asshat as possible.

"You left this at our table Munson" his face softens into relief as he picks up the metal lunch then he scowls.

"You can go now" he motions to the door and you feel a flicker of annoyance. Couldn't he thank you for returning it at least?

"Could you at least have some manners" you huff and he smirks as he sets up one of the figures in his campaign.

"Thank you for returning it princess, now go away" he returns back to positioning the figures and you growl under your breath. He's still smiling and you're distracted for a split second at the tattoos on his arm, the bats. You've never seen them this close before and a part of you wants to reach out and touch one of them.

Wait...what the fuck? You really needed to get away from Munson, you could never think straight around him. He made you muddled at times.

"You know you really should see someone about your anger issues around me sweetheart" he suggests with a smirk and you gawk at him.

"What! You're the one who is constantly pissing me off. I swear you get some sick joy out of it" there's a faint crackling of a radio and Eddie picks up a walkie talkie completely ignoring what you said.

"Eddie, we can't get out. I'm with Mike and Lucas and Mrs Wheeler has put her foot down. She says the storm is too bad for driving" Eddie grumbles and swears under his breath.

"Henderson it's not even that bad" at that point there's a huge clap of thunder that makes you jump. It's not like you hate storms, you like them well enough but you'd prefer to be at home and cosy.

Preferably not with Munson either. You raise your eyebrow at him and he meets your gaze giving you one half of his devil sign.

Okay, you've had enough now and storm away from him, the wind whips at your hair but you don't care. You'll walk home, it won't take that long.

"Bye bye princess" Eddie waves at you from the drama door and you resist the urge to flip him the bird. Rise about it... Rise about it. Don't tell him to kiss your ass...

You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you almost miss the tree you're sheltering under jerk violently in the wind and one of its roots rips off. It's massive.

There's a split second of silence, you freeze and fear pounds in your chest and you're sure that the tree root will crush you but just at the last minute you're knocked out of the way.

You and Eddie crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He's breathing hard and his arms are wrapped around you tightly. "Shit, you okay?"

There's a ringing in your ears and you're shaking but manage to calm down enough that Eddie helps you up. "Yeah, I'm okay" you shiver as the rain water has drenched your clothes and there's a stinging sensation on your arm.

"I need to patch that cut up princess, there should be a first aid kit somewhere in the drama room" he leads you inside and the both of you don't notice the door shut tightly. Usually it's propped open with something but in your haste to get back inside the item is disregarded.

Eddie is too focused on you to notice, worry etches his features. He leaves briefly and comes back with a first aid kit.

He's quiet as he patches up the cut on your arm and you access him for injuries, "Are you okay Eddie?" It's maybe the first time you've called him Eddie and not Munson or dumbass.

"I'm okay, he speaks in a soothing tone and that relaxes you as he looks over your body for any injuries. There's a faint cut on your knee and Eddie kneels down to patch that up as well.

He hesitates for a second then gently cleans the cut, his fingers on your skin do funny things to your stomach. A shiver (a good one) runs down your spine.

Eddie's pretty brown eyes don't help the fluttering in your stomach. Fuck.

♥️

Eddie tries to pry the door open once he notices it's shut fully. The two of you are going to try and at least get to his van, he had offered to drive you home. Which was nice of him. He had been nicer than you ever thought he could be today.

"Ahh shit, Eddie curses and he manages to get the door open but it shuts again right away with the force of the wind.

"We should wait until that calms down" you suggest and he nods in trepidation. It's getting quite late and the sky is darkening even more. The storm hasn't abated yet... The wind is still fierce and the rain is coming down albeit a little less than before but it's still bad.

You're still shivery and curse the thin fabric of your cheer uniform. Eddie nudges your shoulder and you notice that he's slipped his leather jacket over to you.

"Thanks" you murmur and he nods tightly, his legs jittery as he waits for the storm to pass.

"Um so is the band good?" You nod to his discarded denim vest and the band Dio on the back of it. Eddie smiles and nods. "Mmm yeah, don't think it would be your type of thing princess"

"I went to see Black Sabbath with my cousin Jamie. He's like a massive fan of Ozzy Osbourne, it wasn't too bad" Eddie's jaw drops and his eyes are wide as he gazes at you.

"I know I'm just full of surprises aren't I Munson?" you tease and he's still speechless.

"You saw the god that is Ozzy Osbourne?" you shrug and feel flustered under his awed gaze. It's making you feel all tingly. Something that has happened more and more around Eddie.

"I never thought I'd see the day that you were speechless Eddie Munson" you smirk then wince as a particular loud boom of thunder startles you.

You wrap Eddie's jacket around you and nuzzle into it. It smells faintly of weed and cigarettes but also whatever cologne Eddie wears, it's nice and it comforts you.

"I might be able to get some pillows and shit from the staff room, I don't know how long we will have to wait, we might need to stay here for the night or until the storm fades a bit" Eddie says and gets up.

You notice he has to keep moving and busy. It must be so he doesn't freak out. The storm is worse than either of you thought it was.

"How are you going to do that? It will be locked wouldn't it?" He grins and doesn't seem to be perturbed by this in the slightest.

"The nurses office could have blankets too. We should go there" you tell him and he nods then frowns.

"You should stay here princess. I will probably need to break in and well...everyone expects the freak to get into shit don't they, not Hawkins good girl" you scoff but feel sympathy that people think so badly of him.

It wasn't like you thought he was an asshole all the time, he definitely had his moments of being sweet...

"You need my help to get blankets if the nurse has some and the pillows. Snacks too possibly and I'm the only one with a bag and cash on me" he thinks about this then nods in agreement.

Somehow you and Eddie manage to wrangle a big blanket from the nurses office and cushions from the sofa in the teachers lounge. Also a few snacks to last the night. Eddie gulps his yoo hoo down before the two of you even get back to the drama room.

You try to make a somewhat makeshift bed on the floor with the cushions and blanket. Just in case.

Eddie is still restless but calms down when you get up to look over the campaign. There's a Dungeons and Dragons handbook on the table and a notebook that looks like it's full of Eddie's own notes.

He points out the different figures and you listen interested in the complexity of the game and take a seat on the throne like chair. "That's my spot" Eddie frowns and you settle back grinning.

"I like this spot" you beam and he shakes his head exasperated.

"Alright, looks like you're the dungeon master for the night princess" you smirk at this and turn to Eddie.

"Does that mean I can tell you what to do?" He chuckles, and shakes his head.

"That's not what a Dungeon Master is, I organise the campaign, weave the challenges the rest of the team face, shit like that. I love it" you pout at his explanation and Eddie gazes at your lips for a few seconds. Enough for your heart to skip a beat.

"Um what's a Demogorgon?" You ask feeling nervous all of a sudden and Eddie explains what it is but that funny tension is still in the air.

Even with the wind whistling outside you and Eddie don't notice. Bickering and far too wrapped up in each other to notice.

🖤

At some point near ten you feel your eyes begin to get heavy and stifle a yawn. You try to fight the feeling but one minute Eddie is talking to you and the next your head drops on his shoulder.

When Eddie wakes up you're still fast asleep on his shoulder and it makes his heart race. It feels so...right being with you like this.

It's six am according to the clock on the wall above the door. It surprised him that he slept so well but he thinks it has a little something to do with you.

Gently he tucks a strand of hair away from your face, feels the softness of your skin and a pit of longing forms in his stomach.

Fuck, he really wants you.

The storm has calmed down and he finds that he's disappointed. He's enjoyed speaking to you, more than he ever thought possible. What did that mean?

You wake up while he's pondering this. It's still dark out and now the storm has all but disappeared. Eddie feels cold when you shift from his shoulder, looking away shyly.

"Sorry, I didn't realise" you murmured and his fingers graze over yours.

"You don't have to apologise sweetheart, it was nice princess" a soft silence lingers over the two of you and you sigh.

"The weather seems to have cleared up" there's a wistful tone to your voice. Eddie wonders if you're as disappointed as him that you're free to leave.

"I had a really great time with you" you turn to him and he smiles pleased.

"You're not so bad yourself" he nudges you gently and he leans close to you, instinctively you mimic his movements. The two of you are so close now, sparks flying and the longing growing even more.

His lips are centimetres from yours and there's only a tiny gap, you're eager to close the distance. Just as your lips touch the door bangs open and Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Steve rush in.

You and Eddie wrench apart. "Eddie dude, what the hell happened?" Dustin gawks at you and you hurry over to where Steve is feeling flustered as hell.

Eddie's eyes meet yours while Dustin is talking to him and you realise that maybe Eddie hasn't been your enemy for a long time and something else has been brewing between you two all along.

...

💞

...

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #enemies to lovers #eddie munson

[a-twistedheartslonging]

Could I ask for courting/relationship headcanons for my pathetic boy Idia in your AU?

Sorry, this took a while.

Man, poor OG Idia already has it hard as a cursed human, he's not the type to make the first move, even with his brother providing him with all the evidence and statistics showing him that you would accept his feelings.

But now we're adding him big a big spider with those courting and mating instincts that conflict with the guy's other anxiety-driven instincts telling him to avoid it all and that everything would go wrong and that you would tell him “Ew no, you're a gross spider that’s blue all over.” and then poke him with a stick.

Most spiders tend to be solitary creatures, they don't live in groups and only come together when it's time to find a mate. It doesn't happen all the time but it’s common for the males to get eaten after mating or even before they have the chance to when their advances are rejected. Now that is for regular spiders but there might be a chance of it if you go up to the wrong person and these guys still have those instincts telling them to be warry thanks to their ancestors. People always say “The worst that can happen is they say no.” But really there's the chance they might say “Ew no” which is way worse. Or the extra way way worse when you are a spider cuz your crush might get freaking aggressive with you and take a bite out of you. You being a little human def ease his worry about the latter, but not the former.

It's later after you guys start to hang out that he starts to be a snarky little shit, who knew such an anxious guy could have so much sass. He’s a weird combination of having issues with self-loathing while also having a big ego. It's one of those times where he starts mouthing off that you do actually try to bite him, he was legit scared for a sec but once he saw those little teeth of yours couldn’t even make a scratch on the exoskeleton on his arm, he gets super freaking smug, and now he’s even more of a shit when teasing you.

With Idia romantic feelings will develop slowly over time after becoming friends though. It's def a new feeling for him, he gives me demi-ace vibes and I think this would be the first time he had this kind of interest in a real person, it was always fictional characters before.

But also I feel like with him it could turn into him thinking these fillings are just how it feels when you have a best friend since he’s only had his brother for all those years and you're the first person outside of his family that he felt this comfortable around and when he actually does these courting behaviors its subconscious and his instincts are kicking in and his brother is actually the one to point it out.

The male of the orb weaver family (Araneidae) and some others court by rhythmically plucking the threads of a web. After the female approaches, he pats and strokes her before mating. I head canon that not only is he able to create webs but they are cool and glowy and he makes a cool hammock for you to chill in sometimes or even hang out with him on one he made for himself…and then without thinking when you're leaning against him and enjoying the soft blue floof of his legs he gives you a few gentle pats and baps with spider paw and Ortho lets out a gasp and startles him. Oh, he gets so embarrassed once Ortho starts asking him about how long he’s been courting you and how he’s so proud that he made the first move despite his anxiety. Hopefully, he does his questioning after you're out of the room.

(Oh, to be patted by one of his cute spooder paws.)

Or perhaps…he pulls a male wolf spider and ends up doing that purr after you say or do something that hits him in those feelings and oh boy, he is so embarrassed when he realizes he did it thanks to your excited reaction to hearing it. Though it hurts his ego a bit when you squeal about how cute it is…I mean…even if he didn't mean to do it, it was supposed to be sexy…still with spiders if you're rejected you either get ignored or attacked…even though he knows better, the inhuman part of his brain is telling him your positive reaction is a “yes” to getting with him which lends to him actually considering that this might actually work out and that Ortho is right. 

(Tbh I don't get why the video says it's creepy, it kind of sounds like bird sounds to me.)

Silk-wrapped gifts and offerings, expect snacks and games. Though admittedly he’s going to give you ones that he wants you to play with him. Beating a boss in co-op counts as a date…right? Right. Best believe he’s gonna be getting you hard-to-get items in game, armor, and whatever else. It’s easy to forget his rich until he gets you some decked-out gaming computer or that handheld you wanted, all wrapped in glowing blue silk of course. Actually, driders giving gifts made of their silk is very much a thing they do but Idia mostly does small simple things, expect to get really cool bracelets and hair ties infused with his scent. He gets so happy and so smug if he sees you wearing them.

I found out recently that another thing some males will do is do sort of a silk-involved message, though I think that is another thing he would do after you guys start dating and not before to...get you in the mood.

The massaging motions of the spider are officially called mate binding. Basically, the male massages the female, so that she'll allow him to mate with her, without killing him before he gets the chance. The male spider releases silk over the back of the female as he massages her. The same study also suggested that it was the feeling of the massage that soothed the female, and not the smell of the silk as some scientists suggested.

NSFW: I just found out that Darwin’s bark spiders figured out they're less likely to get eaten by ladies if they do oral. Do with that info what you may.

#suggestive #kind of on the last two points #twisted wonderland #twst #ask #asks #twst x reader #nonhuman au #twst idia #twisted wonderland idia #idia shroud #drider #spider #spooder