#great news everyone i got wildly into this one
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hey guys i haven't even had a chance to see atsv yet i just know spoilers and i want this man biblically, i'm talking carnally, i want him in a way that hurts feminism, i want to bring the whole damn movement down so i can be his stupid little housewife and raise his damn kids so i can watch him be happy and then also get railed into losing every brain cell i have
anyway here's some abo headcanons, they include spoilers for the movie/his backstory probably because idk what is and isnt a spoiler because i havent seen it yet.
also this one works a bit differently than my normal layout, it goes SFW and then dips NSFW and ends with more SFW but they're all clearly labeled!
Reader is written gender neutral with they/them and the nsfw section has afab and amab sections, but since I'm Nonbinary and AFAB that's probably how it's gonna come off for most of the reading, just to warn you!
Miguel O'Hara x Reader N/SFW ABO Headcanons
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5k words
Content Warnings (tell me if I miss any): Dubcon, ABO, Obsessive Behavior, Toxic behavior, Omega reader, Alpha Miguel
For these headcanons we're gonna exist in a weird liminal space where Gabi is like, five to six or so and he brought her home with him or some shit idk man I just think he's a hot single father anwyay, also this is assuming omega reader because i think it's hot
if anyone wants a version where Miguel follows more canon and he still lost his kid and came back you're free to request that too i love that shit, just for this specific one i wanna raise his damn kids so-
SFW
Alpha, big alpha energies.
Miguel is the type of guy who's pretty obsessive with what he claims as his, I would honestly say borderline yandere vibes without fully delving into it - his mental state in this au/situation is also a lot better since he still has his daughter, so he's genuinely a lot less "feral" than he tends to get without her, even though in this we'll say he did almost lose her.
So when he claims someone, he's going to be damn sure he means it.
This ones a bit of a general headcanon but he doesn't really have a type when it comes to the people he likes, other than he needs someone who's interesting to him. Whether it's because you're hotheaded, or even keeled, whether you're snarky or sweet, he just needs something for his brain to latch onto.
Not a love at first sight guy but he is an "obsession I can't place" kind of guy.
Miguel has really enhanced senses when it comes to scenting, so it takes some damn strong suppressants and scent blockers to completely block him out... which if we're pretending reader here is falling with the abo trope of "hiding being an omega" (which we are because I love tropes) is just what gets him obsessed. Clothing and perfume that masks your scent, suppressants and scent blockers, and a confident attitude are all enough to throw most people off the (forgive my pun) scent.
But not Miguel.
His spider DNA has the animalistic side to it that fucks with his hormones regardless, makes it easier for him to pick up on the pheromones that even most attentive alphas can't, he's damn near a personal lie detector with how smart he is and how attuned he is to what his nose and instincts tell him, even when he's using serums to keep the more feral urges at bay.
He can only get a whiff of you, fainter than most betas, and it drives him fucking insane knowing he can smell something but he can't figure it out. He can't place it, and it nags at his brain. He can smell a whiff of flowers, or sugar, or something undeniably citrus (depending on what you headcanon your own smell to be) but he can't place it and he hates that shit.
Ends up pulling some traditional alpha shit and he can't even help it, starts trying to crowd you until you kick him in the shin or Peter B or Jess shoos him away. He has to figure out what it is, he has to know.
It only gets worse when he brings Gabi in (a babysitter fell through) and you end up butting your way in to play with Gabi and Mayday, delighting in watching them for the day instead of whatever you were supposed to be doing. They're both so cute and sweet.
Gabi smells primarily like cinnamon and a bit like dewey grass - she's not old enough to have presented yet, but her basic scent, unaffected by the secondary gender hormones, is simple and sweet, reminds you of a summer morning.
She takes after her father in that regard - Miguel smells *warm* and a bit musky, like trees and cinnamon and, a bit like a camp fire. A small tinge of oil, when you pick it apart, and you can't tell if its from the lingering scent on his skin after fixing a broken machine nobody else could, or if that's part of his natural scent.
(Mayday smells like marshmallows, and carmel, funnily enough)
When you take care of Gabi and Mayday, your scent lingers on their skin, mixes and twists in a way that Peter B can't notice but Miguel can. It's all he can do not to be a damn freak and pick his baby girl up and sniff her hair to try and figure out why she smells like that (not in a creepy way, to clarify because there are some freaks on here, but in the same way a dog gets baffled by smelling you use a new perfume, or in the way of when you pick your kid up and go "WHY DO I SMELL CANDLES ON YOU WHAT WERE YOU DOING")
He almost can't stand how his head swims when he watches you pick Gabi up and gently throw her up in the air a bit, watching you let her climb onto you while you're distracted just like Mayday does. Soothe her tears when she accidentally breaks a toy because she's still learning to control her super strength.
He doesn't know that he wants you either, not until long after he's already manifested feelings. Doesn't realize how protective he is, doesn't realize how differently he treats you. He doesn't realize he's lingering in your area just long enough to make sure he can fill his nose with the faint scent you give off.
He assumes you're a beta - not that it mattered to him, really. Miguel would just as soon marry another alpha as he would a beta or an omega, as long as it's you.
He doesn't realize what he's doing until he's got a piece of your clothing in his hands, holding it in the dead of night up to his nose. A scarf or a glove or a jacket you'd leant to Gabi during the day and she'd spilled her juice on it and he'd taken it home to wash it.
He can smell his daughter's scent, louder than life, so familiar he could have a handful of pepper thrown at him and he'd still be able to wrap his arms around her and move her out of harm's way in the direst of straits.
And then there's yours, linger, mingling with his daughter's scent, and it's the parent of his child.
It's not, it's not the woman who birthed Gabi, it's not the woman who contributed to making her. It's you, the only other person he ever wants near his child in that capacity. And it's intoxicating. It's infuriating. It's overwhelming because the full breadth of his own emotions is so strong as he realizes what he's been doing. And he can't even tell you because he holds himself to a specific standard, a specific code of ethics, and even though he wants to risk it all just so his hindbrain (both alpha and spider and his own human instincts all mingling in one) can have his little loves all wrapped up in his arms, safe where he can protect them.
He only just has the strength to wash the piece of cloth and return it. It takes everything he has not to cling to it, to make a pretty little nest to protect his family in, webs and pillows and fabric, a basis of protection so you can properly make it your own and -
He controls himself, and returns the scarf the next day, leaving it on your desk because he can't bear to look you in the eyes.
The days struggle by, a stark contrast to his normal snark, to lingering in your space and snorting and rolling his eyes. To being by your side more than he normally is. It's disheartening, it makes you feel rejected, and he knows it.
But he doesn't stop, this tension that can cut through the air lingering. Even Gabi and May notice it, the older girl frowning and the younger fussing when the two of you are in the room together.
And then your heat happens.
(brief bullet point break because there's a limit to how much you can have in one bulleted section on tumblr and I don't remember what it is but I'd rather just break here)
You've been on suppressants and scent blockers for years now. Being in your line of work (whether you headcanon this as a spiderperson version of you, or a different kind of superhero, or a civillian all working in the society) it's necessary. Omegas aren't rare but they're not the majority of the population like betas are. In Nueva York, it's a coin toss if you'll be fought over in the streets like some prize to be won, or if you'll be coddled like a child who can't figure out what's best for them.
It's half safety half preference at this point, from your original universe's standard (before it had burnt to cinders before you), and this one's. Your suit, your meds, and your behavior, they're all meant to mask and confuse.
But you can only make it so long on the prescription you've got, the long-lasting shots that were more reliable than a pill. The scent blockers go first - not by design, but by chance. You'd been giving yourself lower doses since you'd wound up in Nueva York, supplementing it with deodorants and lotions swiped from stores and hospitals that could afford to spare the supplies when you can't buy it covertly. But you'd still been low in comparison to your suppressants.
You shower more frequently, lather yourself with soaps and deodorants and lotions of different scents and ones that have blocking effects, and for the most part it works. You can't quite fool Gabi - too smart, too tuned in to your emotions like her father could be. She's got a sharp nose, and she wrinkles it when she can smell how confusing your scent is. She asks questions, and you can't lie your way out of it, but you are able to bribe her so she's distracted long enough that she forgets the question. Miguel notices, when he picks up Gabi, but he can't quite figure out exactly what's wrong, and you leave so fast (he assumes with the tension that lingers between the two of you) that he can't figure it out.
You're so certain you're in the clear.
But then your shots run out, and even you can't get more without a prescription. And while your health information would never go through Miguel, you know that the medispiders have to go through him or Lyla for any heavy duty things like suppressants, because they have to be resourced more carefully.
And your last doctor, although wildly shady, and incompetent, and operating out of an apartment, was right about one thing - suppressants will rot you from the inside out if you're not careful. If you don't let a natural heat occur, it will only be worse in the long run. (Although you suppose he probably had a greasier, grosser reason for telling you that.)
And rot you from the inside they have - all your natural reactions to a heat, all your normal bodily functions don't work properly, when confronted with something they haven't seen in years. You know within seconds of your suppressants flushing out of your system what's going on. You're still in the pre-heat phase of things, and you feel like you're dying. You aren't, and you know you aren't, but you feel nauseous and feverish and incoherent within an hour tops. Only long enough to let you panic and send a text to Miguel that you can't watch Gabi like you'd planned. That you're going out ad you won't be back awhile. You leave your phone in your room, when you pack your bag and head for the nearest somewhat reputable hotel that you can afford. You brace the door with the dresser, explicit instructions left for the front desk to, under no circumstances, contact you for the next week.
You get an order of pre-made meals to slap into the fridge, water and juice and all sorts of drinks and things shoved haphazardly inside once the bot brings it in through the window. You're barely coherent enough to retain control to crush the landline, rendering it inoperable, before you barricade the rest of the room.
You're definitely not in control when you nest, blankets and pillows and clothing all thrown haphazardly around as you go fully out of your gourd.
You're damn well out of your mind by the time you would have normally realized the card you were using was in Miguel's name.
(another very brief line break in this portion for drama but also so I don't hit any limits)
Miguel is pissed when you leave so suddenly.
Sure, he's been avoiding you, and sure, you aren't actually together, but you're his damn it. You don't know it, and sure, he's not going to acknowledge it out loud until something happens, but you can't just leave him and your child and his child who loves you high and dry like that!
It's laughably easy to find you, to find the hotel you've checked into. He doesn't even wait to figure out the reason you left, he's so quick on his honestly kinda toxic bs.
Gabi is left with Peter B and Jess for a bit, and Miguel is honestly so smug that he finds you so fast. You were so sloppy about it. So quick to leave that even though you left your phone behind, in a moment of clarity, you barely bothered to take back streets. You used his own damn card he'd given you to pay for the hotel for two weeks, and to order food.
If he weren't half out of his mind with concern and anger about how quickly you left, he'd be angry you used the card without asking like you normally did.
(His hind brain purrs with it though, knowing he's provided for you)
He doesn't know what did it. Miguel genuinely doesn't know what he did to earn your ire in such a way, but he can guess. He doesn't think it's how cold he was, in the beginning, but he isn't sure that it's not how he'd warmed up to you. How, when he'd let his guard down without realizing it, that he'd flirted with you. Had that made you uncomfortable? Had every 'innocent' brush against you turned you against him? Certainly, it could be his absence, his sudden coolness and stonewalling. It could be how he refused to look at you, when you were in the room. Tried to hold his breath after he'd realized what he was doing.
He doesn't really listen to Lyla when she tries telling him things. He heard where you where, found out the room, and swiped a key before Lyla could finish talking about vital signs and behaviors. She knows to set his alerts to emergency only for the foreseeable future, because she's figured it out much quicker than he has, and she figures she'll at least spare herself the trouble. Gets Gabi set up with Jess for the night, and is on her way so she doesn't have to deal with what's about to go down.
He's surprised by the dresser in front of the door, when he tries to get in the first time. It's easy for him to move - he just lowers his center of gravity and pushes his way into the room, slamming the door shut before he can inhale.
The hotel room is nice, with a kitchenette and a small entry area with a couch and a television. The bedroom is just tucked out of sight. Exactly what he expected when he'd heard the hotel's name - he'd never been, but he recognized it.
And it's when he inhales, that he realizes why.
Your scent hits him hard and fast, chokingly sweet in the back of his throat in a way that makes his hindbrain roar. His pupils blow wide, and if he didn't have such a strong self control, he'd have torn the damn door off its hinges looking for you.
He remembers, in that moment, why he recognized the hotel. It was one that was best known for its handling of customers in heat and rut.
NSFW INTERLUDE
(We're gonna start with general headcanons and go back into the specifics of the scenario in a sec but it's all relevant fjasdkl;)
Miguel is a Dom-leaning switch, he prefers to be in control as often as possible, regardless of whether he's topping or bottoming. Nine times out of ten, he wants to fuck his partner until they're an incoherent, babbling mess, because he enjoys the power and control it gives him, enjoys the dynamic of it.
As he gets more comfortable with a partner, he's more willing to accept the idea of subbing, enjoying it more when he has someone he trusts behind the wheel, so to speak.
(Because yes, Alphas can be subs too - that's a whole thing I could get into and might if someone asks)
And Miguel, even normally, is already a possessive guy. He's needy, and stakes his claim, and when we're talking about abo Miguel?
Sheeeeeesh
The moment he scents you in the air, the moment it clicks in his brain that you're going through a rut or a heat, it goes straight to his dick.
He damn near loses it, fighting not to tear the door off its hinges as he stalks to your room. Your scent is so strong in the air that even though he knows he should turn around, he still at the very least wants to make sure you're okay. So the sight of you, face down, ass up, fingers pressing into yourself, he almost loses his damn mind.
His pretty little wife/husband/spouse coworker, his crush, is an omega. It's almost too good to be true, and he can feel his fucking fangs extend, his mouth watering as he stares at you. You're too blissed out to even realize he's there, slick dripping down your thighs like a fucking faucet... and his name is on your lips.
He could cum untouched, could die a happy, happy man after seeing this.
He has dignity, and self control though, even as the force of your hit heats him. He's genuinely concerned, a moment later, his instinct to breed to claim tampered down by his need to care.
You cling to him, hazy, feverish, and incoherent. You beg him to claim you, to mark you, to fuck you. Miguel wants to, he does... but he instead kicks his shoes off but otherwise stays fully clothed, his cock so hard it hurts as he grabs the closest bottle of water, and an ice pack, and climbs into your haphazard nest with you. He probably should have left by now, but instead he seats you against him, your back pressed to his chest, and he presses the ice pack to your forehead, ordering you to keep it there as he makes you drink water, sip by sip.
You whine, and beg, and squirm, but you obey.
He fucks you on his fingers, once he's gotten some water into you. Hard and fast, leaving you breathless, tense, until you cum all over his fingers, oversensitive as he fingerfucks you into another one, and another, arms like steel wrapped around your waist as one hand pounds into you, the other wrapped around your dick or circling hard on your clit. It's not enough to genuinely sate your heat, but it's enough to help. And he doesn't trust himself to put his own mouth to use - barely trusts himself to speak, even though most of what he growls into your ear is, strictly speaking, complete and utter nonsense as he's caught in the moment. Every time you cum, he praises you, telling you how good you are for it. How sweet you look, with tears streaming down your face, cumming so well for him.
When there's enough coherency for you to have a conversation (but not coherent enough to be mortified), Miguel is able to get the rough gist of the situation. He really can only piece together that the heat is going to be a strong one, that it came fast, and that you had panicked. There's a confession, to be had there. He agrees to help you through your heat, but only under the condition that you're his.
It's toxic, and of dubious consent at best, but he'll pull as many orgasms out of you as needed to keep you coherent enough to talk to him. He's helped an omega through a heat or two, and he knows what he's doing. He's not exactly clearheaded himself, in making the decision - but he does make sure that this is truly what you want before he proceeds.
When he's sure that it's not just the heat speaking, that you truly do care for him, that you want him to stay even after your heat has subsided, he allows himself to indulge.
Sympathy ruts are common, and it builds slowly inside of him as he indulges in his instincts. Holding you, kissing you, pressing his fingers inside of you over and over and over again until you pass out. He keeps you wrapped up in the nest, adding his shirt to the mix while you sleep, but not trusting himself to completely strip quite yet.
Miguel is an attentive alpha.
(While you sleep, he excuses himself from the nest to call his daughter, to assure her everything will be okay, and he just explains simply that you'd gotten sick, that you needed him for a bit, and that he'd be back once you were feeling better. He promises to call every night, and he works out a schedule with Peter B and Jess in the meantime.)
(When you overhear him, voice so soft, so protective, so gentle, it half makes you want to swoon, and half want to climb on his lap and fuck yourself stupid on his cock until he fills you up so you can give his daughter a sibling.)
This man is going to spend a good majority of his time pre-sympathy rut fucking you open on his fingers and his mouth. He wants to make sure you're ready, wants to make sure he can enjoy this for as long as possible.
By the end of it, he makes sure to fuck you, nice and steady, a hand on your throat and his lips on yours. He makes sure you're nice and coherent for it. He wants to make sure you remember it, when he claims you. When his (fucking horse cock, the dude's packing like ten to twelve inches which is great for my chubby bitches like me) dick fills you up so full that you're almost certain you'll break, hiccupping and sobbing as you keen and wail, the nest below you soaked as he fills you up. His fangs sink into your neck and you cum, right then, his hands grabbing your thighs so hard he's sure it will bruise. He fucks you through your orgasm, knot catching until it slips inside. He rubs your clit/tugs on your dick as he finally knots you, making sure you cum just one more time for me, cariño.
normal Miguel definitely has a claiming and breeding kink, so it's fucking intensified by ten when he's omegaverse Miguel... let alone when the man's subject to his rut. You'll be covered in scratches and bites and hickies by the time you're both coherent enough to function properly again.
Which... for Miguel, is a solid few hours of coherency at a time.
For you? You're only ever coherent in short bursts, and it's like the peak of your heat constantly for almost the full week.
This next bit just mostly borders on nsfw/has some nsfw parts so i'll put it at the end here before going back to sfw
Like I mentioned before, Miguel is a very attentive alpha.
He's going to fuck you seven different ways in an hour with his superhuman stamina, but he's also going to make sure to actually take care of you.
He makes sure you drink electrolytes and water in equal measure, makes sure you eat, and sleep, and he bathes you himself, carrying you into the shower and keeping you pressed against him as he massages your muscles and washes your hair and body with a soft cloth, using completely unscented soaps and shampoos so it doesn't overwhelm you. Presses bandages to your scrapes and bites so you'll heal faster. Cool cloths and ice packs and fever reducing medicine.
He finds he has to bribe you, during this time, even for the most basic tasks like eating and drinking, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy having to plug you up with his cock just to get you to eat wasn't hot as hell. The fact that you need him so badly you'd rather forgo basic necessities... it's addicting. Granted, he doesn't actually let you - he's got enough control that he can make sure you're taken care of in all regards.
Back to SFW time!
After your heat itself passes, you're subject to the suppressant sickness that comes with it. Your fever has broken, but you're still nauseous and dizzy and fatigued as your body flushes everything out of your system.
Miguel is beyond pissed when he finds out why you're still sick.
It's reckless to not even have a natural heat once every six months, let alone taking your suppressants so solidly that you hadn't had one in years. If he'd known, he'd have said consequences be damned and would have bitten you the moment he walked through the door, and taken you to the hospital.
He doesn't care how embarrassed you are, when he packs all of your things back up into the sealable bags, and dresses you in his own clothing. He's almost out of his mind when he takes both of you back to HQ - only just remembering to take back corridors to the medic so they can check you over properly.
You've then got two spider people who are pissed, as the medic rants about how dangerous that was, how stupid it was that you did that, instead of just swallowing your pride and letting them help you control things. They order you on house arrest for a full month, to make sure your body can recover properly. No suppressants, no scent blockers (at least the medical kind) for a couple years, and only medicine that's medically necessary, and even then it has to be monitored more carefully.
Miguel lets the Medispider tear you a new one for a moment while he steps into the hallway, giving you privacy and space to figure things out with the doctor while he catches up with Gabi.
When you're done with the Medispider, it's not a question on if you're staying with Miguel or not - you really don't have a choice in the matter, he tells you. When you're recovered, you can decide if you want to move in or not, but until then he was going to personally keep an eye on you.
Gabi, who lacks the complete understanding of the why and the how behind it all, is just glad that the person they've been trying to scheme their father into confessing to is actually going to live with them. (Even if only for about a month.) She grins smugly when she realizes you smell like her dad.
Miguel lets you have pick of the house, when he carries you back to his beautiful, cozy suburban home. He leaves the proper tour up to Gabi, as he carries you both, letting Gabi tell you about everything excitedly. You stay in his bed (you two had claimed each other, and although Miguel does give you the option of your own room... you'd rather die than lose the comfort that comes with being around your mate.)
Miguel cooks properly for you while you stay with him and Gabi.
No more prepackaged meals, he sneers, instead making you chicken noodle soup from scratch, with bone broth and lots of vegetables. Breakfast every morning before he takes Gabi to school, tucks you in to sleep while he pops into the HQ to check on things. He's out of commission from missions while he cares for you, but he still makes sure things go smoothly. He's home by lunch, sometimes bringing you fast food instead of cooking so you can have your fill of a greasy burger or fries or something to sate the part of you that needs something unhealthy and indulgent. Holds you in his lap while you both eat, watching TV on the couch.
He finishes his work and goes on emergency-only mode when it's time to pick up Gabi from school. He tucks you into the passenger seat if you feel up to it, buckling you up himself and pressing a kiss to your lips, even though he doesn't need to. He knows you can buckle yourself up, and lets you do so when you insist, but it makes him happy to know he's taking measures to keep you safe.
He does force you to take a blanket with you, just in case though.
When all three of you get home, he makes dinner, sometimes with Gabi helping him, sometimes you, sometimes just himself. He has a pretty wide range of foods he ends up making, but it's primarily because they're foods he likes, or Gabi likes, and he learned to make them. He's a good cook, overall.
It's the best work-life balance he's had in a long time.
When you're better, he all but begs you to stay.
And god, how could you say no to him?
(Also for those who it matters for, if you do end up pregnant from the Heat Adventures he obviously loves kids and would love one with you, but if you don't feel ready/don't want to have kids other than Gabi, he absolutely respects it, and will talk about options with you. Granted, he'll be disappointed, but at the end of the day it's not something he CAN'T move past. Discusses birth control options with you almost immediately when the two of you get intimate again.)
#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara spiderverse#spiderverse#strawberry writing#strawberry headcanons#also on god if i find any minors in my notes or in my inbox i'll maim you#i might turn this into a proper fic at some point#but you get the really long headcanon/rambly version that's all just ideas for now#because i like to feed my followers and the tag#gotta contribute b/c theres some damn good fics ive read so far#smut#i gotta update my tags smh#great news everyone i got wildly into this one#so it gets posted early
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You know... >.>
My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.
Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?
Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.
So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.
Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.
Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.
So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.
Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.
Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.
They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.
Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.
They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.
Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.
Which she was.
Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)
They have Apology Bribes.
They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...
Maybe...
That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?
They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...
And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...
She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.
Fine.
"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"
And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.
The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.
But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?
It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.
Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.
Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!
But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?
Uuuuuuhhhh?
Hi?
That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!
Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.
Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...
Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.
Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.
Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter
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COMPLICATED — prologue
pairing: (fernando alonso x driver!reader) (grid x platonic!reader) — mostly older!grid
summary: you and fernando were known to be the biggest rivals on and off track back in 2012. that rivalry even crossed the line to pure hatred many years ago. but how did that hatred turn you two into the loving iconic couple of f1 you are today?
note: i’ve been dying to write this for AGES. it’s the fic that’s the reason i made this blog. keep in mind however this is just the prologue, so i’m simply setting up the story for where i want it to go. after this mostly social media chapter it gets plot heavy. anyways i hope you enjoy this!!!
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liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 528,293 others
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, aussiegrit, jensonbutton, sebastianvettel, lewishamilton
yourusername beach day with my boys! had so much fun pretending to know what i’m doing while surfing (do NOT trust mark when he says he’ll teach you how to surf. he’s horrible.)
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aussiegrit you falling off the board 272872 times was of your own accord, don’t blame the teacher!
jensonbutton mate you fell off your OWN board 272872 times, i think when it gets to that it’s the teacher’s fault
yourusername get his ass again for me jense
fernandoalo_oficial looking great amor! 🥰
yourusername thanks to my amazing photographer 🫶
jensonbutton what about the pictures i took?
yourusername they were definitely pictures!
fernandoalo_oficial posted a new story
—2012
This was not Fernando Alonso’s year. Losing the World Championship by 3 points was not good on his ego nor on his morale, yet here he was.
Everyone was celebrating Sebastian now for having won his 3rd World Championship– but Fernando was angry. Not at Sebastian, but at you.
You who had gotten first place.
You who was third in the Drivers Championship and had no chance to pass Fernando on the standings, yet still overtook him during the last two laps. You couldn’t even let him win.
“Good race Nando,” he heard a voice in front of him say. He paid no attention to it.
Getting no reply from him, you scoff and put down your water bottle. “I know you’re mad at me for getting first, but at least have some sportsmanship.”
That gets him to look up and take a proper look at you, post race sweat and your race suit dangling at your hips. He thinks you glow look terrible in this light. Because he was sat on some stairs, you were standing over him, hands on hips with a slightly smug look on your face.
“Don’t be a sore loser. It’s unbecoming.”
“I could have won the championship. I was three points away— three, and you could not even let me have that?” He gestures wildly. “I know you dislike me, but stealing my championship is far and beyond, L/N.”
He stands up, purposely hitting your shoulder as he walks past you.
Oh the bastard. He wanted to throw out accusations? Fine.
“Oh don’t be such a hypocrite. I stole your championship? What good would that even do me? I’m third in the standings, there was no way I was going to catch up to you,” you retort. Fernando was still facing away from you, but frozen on the spot. You knew he was listening. “I went faster because my contract with Mercedes expires this year. I’m losing my fucking seat, I need to prove to other teams I’m worth it. It’s bad enough you’re constantly fucking badmouthing my character to the press, and now you question my integrity as a driver? Honestly, Alonso, grow the fuck up. Not everything is about you.”
A silence befalls the room. Fernando doesn’t speak or do anything, and the seconds waiting for a response feels like minutes. He’s facing you at this point, speechless in his Ferrari race suit that looks fucking great on him. Too bad he’s a shitty person.
You sigh, exhausted. “Nothing?”
He shakes his head and looks down. Of course. He’s got nothing to say. Resigning, this time you’re the one to walk past him and towards the door behind him. He tries to look at everything else in the room that wasn’t you, the walls, the stairs, the tables, but that wasn’t enough to avoid your exasperated look that he could see through his peripheral vision.
He should’ve done something, anything. Stop you from walking away, tell you he’s sorry, just something. But he didn’t do anything. That was his first mistake.
One of many.
—PRESENT
MAHK WEBBAH
once again asking if we can change the group name
JENSE
it’s correct though? But while we’re on the topic of the groupchat can we change the photo
YOURNAME
no
its beautiful whats wrong with you
JENSE
okay then we’re not changing the group name
MAHK WEBBAH has left world champs + mark
YOURNAME
give him a few minutes he’s having a temper tantrum because skysports labelled his name as “Sebastian Vettel’s former teammate”
SEBBY
IJBOL
NANDO
??????
JENSE
??????????
YOURNAME
where the fuck did you learn that
AUTHORS NOTE: i know some of these are ooc but i had too much fun making the fake tweets 😵💫 this is quite a plot heavy fic from here on out, so put on your reading glasses!
#fernando alonso#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x you#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#jenson button#jenson button x reader#lando norris#lando norris x reader#formula one#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#f1 imagine#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader
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mastermind
Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.
Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!
-
You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig.
Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.
The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.
“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.
“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area.
You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots.
Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.
You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.
As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.
Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.
Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.
As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.
And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.
There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.
But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her.
She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.
Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two.
Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.
As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.
That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.
Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”
“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.
As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.
During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.
But not before catching her reaction.
She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.
You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.
As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.
-
To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.
Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”
You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”
You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.
“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.
“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.
Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.
You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”
Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”
Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”
You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”
Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.
Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”
You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”
-
An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.
Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.
“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.
Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”
“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”
Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”
With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.
It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.
The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”
She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.
Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”
She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”
The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.
“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.
“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.
“What?” she asks.
“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”
She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.
The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.
“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.
“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”
She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”
“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”
Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”
You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”
“Wait, you write the songs?”
“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”
Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”
“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.
Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.”
She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”
You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”
Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”
You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”
-
This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.
You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.
You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.
Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.
“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”
“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.
But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.
“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”
Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.
She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”
“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.
Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”
Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.
She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.
You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.
Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.
As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.
“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.
“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.
“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”
Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.
“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”
Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”
Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.
“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.
Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.
“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.
You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.
“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.
She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.
Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking.
“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.
She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,�� and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.
You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.
Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.
Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.
Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth.
“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”
“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”
She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.
“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process.
Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.
Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.
“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again.
The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.
“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”
You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.
“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”
She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”
Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”
She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”
“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”
“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.
“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.
She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”
-
You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.
Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.
“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.
She knows this guy?
Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.
She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”
You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”
Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.
You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.
And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”
And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.
The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.
Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”
Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#unbetad#my writing#my fic#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#wanda maximoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff#oneshots#wanda maximoff au#yelena belova#kate bishop#bucky barnes#wanda maximoff smut#fic request
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He Hung Up
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: “Ooh,” you said excited, jumping up from the couch. You reached out making a grabby hand already. “Give me the phone, I’m great at pissing people off.”
Warnings: Violent Threats
Word Count: 3k
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
You and your friends trudged up the many many steps to the Carpenter sister’s apartment. You were at a party with your girlfriend and her friends when a drunk frat guy decided to get a little handsy. Luckily for you or more like lucky for him Sam showed up. Sam tasing him was generous because if you had gotten your hands on him for what he was about to do with Tara you would have beaten the shit out of him.
Sam also showing up meant Tara had been caught. Meaning you were now all in trouble for going to the party. Chad and his roommate Ethan took up the rear, while Mindy and her girlfriend Anika, held hands giggling and walking as close together as they could get as if they were in their own little world. You were in front of them while your girlfriend and her sister led the way, arguing, like usual.
You had been holding Tara’s hand, but she really liked gesturing wildly when she got into it with Sam, so she eventually dropped your hand. You tried intervening a few times but after Sam stopped, turning her furious glare onto you, you quickly shut your mouth and dropped your eyes to the ground. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan of you already and as much as you wanted to stick up for your girlfriend, even though you agreed with her sister to an extent, you didn’t want to add any more reasons for Sam to hate you. You knew Tara didn’t care about Sam’s opinions when it came to you, but you still wanted the older Carpenter to like you, at this point you were grasping at anything to win you points.
When you got to the apartment you all piled in, you and Anika dropping onto the couch, Ethan shuffling himself into a chair off to the side. Sam quickly locked the several locks on the door before moving into the kitchen with the other three. You could hear the core four as Chad had stupidly nicknamed them all whisper arguing about the night’s events. Quinn slipped out of her room after hearing the commotion you all must have been making and plopped herself down in the other chair.
Your eyes had drifted to the TV that Anika had turned on though she kept the volume muted. You weren’t paying attention until you noticed it wasn’t just a normal boring news report.
“Hey guys,” you shouted getting the others’ attention. “You need to see this.” You reached for the remote, turning up the volume as the others re-entered the room.
Everyone was silent as the story played. Some college students were killed and a Ghostface mask was left at the scene.
“Oh, hey it’s those weird guys from class,” you commented when the news threw up a picture of the two students who were killed. “That one,” you pointed to the picture that had the name Jason under it, “is the creepy one that always stares at you.” You turned to give Tara a I told you so look.
“He didn’t stare at me,” Tara weakly defended.
“He paid more attention to you than to the class.”
“How would you know?” Tara raised a brow. “Unless you weren’t paying attention either.”
“I’m your girlfriend,” you put a hand to your heart. “When I stare at you it’s adorable.”
Tara didn’t say anything more, she just playfully rolled her eyes.
Tara had turned her attention back to the TV, but you couldn’t take your eyes off her. The class you shared with the weird Jason kid was where you first met Tara. She sat next to you and despite it being the first day you were completely unprepared, you had asked her to borrow a pen then ten seconds later asked for a sheet of paper.
After that first class you slowly started trying to talk to her during quiet moments of class or if you were lucky and she got there early enough before class. You could listen to her all day discuss the deeper meaning of her ‘elevated’ horror movies.
You were sitting in the very spot you were now on her couch a few months ago. You had come over to Tara’s place to work on a paper for class, she was hesitant because her sister didn’t like unknown guests, but she said since her sister would be at therapy it would be fine. And you were fine, quietly working on your paper, stealing subtle glances at Tara.
You had been crushing on her hard since you first saw her but didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. With her history you weren’t sure she wanted anything more than friendship. During one of your subtle glances though you caught Tara openly staring at you. You dropped your pen, turning with the intention to ask if everything was okay when she leaned forward, grabbing you by the back of the head and pulling you into a kiss.
You instantly reciprocated the kiss, turning your body to fully face her. You brought up both of your hands, running them through her hair. You could feel her smile into the kiss as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss even more.
You broke away, lightly laughing when you needed air. You shyly looked at Tara, despite the fact that you had just been making you, you saw her wearing the same smile as you.
“Sorry,” she said. “I waited so long, and it didn’t seem like you were ever going to make a move.”
You silently laughed, nodding before pulling her in for another kiss. You repositioned so you were kneeling on the couch, Tara doing the same. She started to slip your jacket off, neither of you breaking the kiss. You were both so caught up you didn’t hear the door open. You didn’t break apart until someone angrily cleared their throat, followed by a loud door slam.
You both jumped apart. You pulled your jacket back on, clearing your throat as if you hadn’t just been caught doing what you were about to do. You glanced towards the door to see Tara’s sister fuming.
“Sam,” Tara said, trying to sound casual. “You’re home early. How was therapy?”
You didn’t move, you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Sam. You had just been making out with Tara and now her sister was home and blocking your only path out. She hadn’t acknowledged her sister in any way, she just continued to glare at you.
“Get out,” is the only thing Sam said.
You quickly shot to your feet, throwing your stuff into your bag, and swinging the strap over one shoulder, not bothering to zip the bag up. You turned to Tara, smiled, and gave a thumbs up, then quickly scurried out of the apartment as Sam stepped out of the way, opening the door for you. You didn’t turn back but you could feel Sam’s burning gaze in the back of your skull. She hadn’t stopped glaring at you to this day.
You were brought back to the present when you heard Tara gasp and saw her eyes widen. You turned back to the TV and saw it.
“Holy shit,” you said, leaning forward to make sure you were seeing correctly. “That’s our film studies professor.”
The news reporter continued, saying how your professor was found stabbed to death in an alley. Then went on to say that the knife used was found in Jason’s apartment with his prints on it.
“Damn, I guess class is cancelled next week,” you said. You turned to say something else, but Tara was giving you a deadpanned look while Sam was once again glaring at you. You really needed to learn to shut up sometimes.
“We’re leaving, pack your stuff,” Sam announced, breaking her silence for the first time.
“Wait, what?” Tara asked. “We don’t even know if this has anything to do with us. It’s Halloween, there are thousands of people dressed up.” Tara tried to find any excuse to not leave. She turned back to you with a worried look. “Quinn!” she quickly turned to her roommate. “Call your dad, see what he knows.”
Quinn nodded, pulling out her phone. Before Quinn could start the call though another phone rang. Everyone in the room froze. All heads turned to Sam as she fished out her phone from her back pocket.
Tara moved closer to her sister, looking down at the phone. They both just stared at it in Sam’s hand as it continued to ring, no one moving to answer it.
“Ooh,” you said excited, jumping up from the couch. You reached out making a grabby hand already. “Give me the phone, I’m great at pissing people off.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Sam mumbled. You pouted but took the phone. She didn’t hand it to you, but she made no move to stop you.
“Hello?” you asked, a smile playing at your lips.
There was heavy breathing on the other end before, “You’re not Samantha.”
“No, sorry, she can’t come to the phone right now. May I take a message?”
“Put Samantha on the phone. I want to play a game with her.”
“Really?” you scrunched up your nose, looking towards Sam. “Have you met her? She’s not much fun.” Sam glared at you. “However, I’m much more fun. I love playing games, especially with her sister.” You winked at Tara who switched to glaring at you as well. You smiled, trying to keep in your laugh.
“Give Samantha the phone or my knife will find a home in your heart.”
“Sorry, my heart is already taken.” You winked at Tara again. She stopped glaring at you but only to roll her eyes at your antics.
“Don’t worry I’ll make sure to carve it out and deliver it her.”
“Well, I have always said the best presents come from the heart.”
“Stupid girl, do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
“Let’s see, late night phone call, death threats, ominous creepy sounding voice,” you mumbled off. You tilted your head as if you were thinking really hard about who could possibly be on the phone.
“You really have a death wish, don’t you child?”
“Wait wait wait,” you said excitedly. “Wait, am I talking to the one and only Ghostface?” You paused, furrowing your brow as your eyes left the group of friends and drifted up to the ceiling in thought. “Well technically there’s usually two of you and technically you’re like the,” you started silently counting, using your fingers to keep track, “the tenth one? Whatever, anyway, it’s an honor.”
“I will gut you,” Ghostface growled out.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. Can I make a request about my death?” You turned to your friends who were watching you with curious looks, waiting to see what you’d do next. “Just make sure I suffer. I don’t want to go out easy.” You started pacing, your friends now going from curious to concerned. Even Sam seemed concerned, it brought a small smile to your face, maybe this was how you won her over.
“My knife will carve out your insides.”
“Oh my god,” you whispered shyly. “Who told you I was into knife play?”
You turned back to your friends when you heard a cough only to see Chad choking on his water. Mindy was smacking her brother on the back to help him out. He seemed to be trying to keep the water in his mouth through the coughing, but he was clearly failing as the water finally sprayed out of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as Chad doubled over in a coughing fit. Sam and Tara ignored him as they continued to watch you.
“Has anyone ever told you how irritating you are?” Ghostface asked. He was using a voice changer, but you could swear he sounded tired.
“I’m an acquired taste,” you said. You shot your girlfriend a glare as you caught her nodding in agreement. She stopped when she caught your glaring, smiling innocently and mouthing ‘love you’. “Now for my death,” you continued, getting back to the important stuff. “Remember, slow and painful. I’m not just some side character.” You spun around pointing your finger even though you weren’t facing Ghostface. Though when you thought about it, he was probably watching you. “I’m not just some character that’s written off with a quick death. No, I’m the memorable bitch. I might not be the main but I’m the death you remember, you feel me?”
There was a long silence as you waited for his response. Your friends all leaned closer waiting for what would happen next even though they could only hear your side of the conversation. You furrowed your eyebrows when it had been over twenty seconds of silence.
“Hello? Hello?” you asked, pulling the phone away from your ear to look at the screen. “Hmm,” you hummed, tilting your head at the blank screen. “He hung up.”
You sighed, shaking your head as you turned back to your friends. You held out your hand, handing the phone back to Sam as you saw the shocked expressions of your friends. Everyone was staring at you wide eyed and mouths agape.
“So, does this mean I won or that I’m gonna die even more horribly than originally planned?” You asked. You raised your eyebrows waiting for a response as they continued to stare at you.
“You got Ghostface to hang up on you,” Mindy said in disbelief.
You shrugged. “I just have a way with some people.”
“Okay, I think it’s time we called it a night,” Sam said, pushing off from the dining table she had been leaning against.
“Can Y/N stay the night?” Tara asked, coming to stand by you.
You smiled as Tara wrapped her arms around your mid-section. You quickly put an arm around her, you would never turn down a hug and potential cuddles. You looked up at Sam with a smile. Sam shot you a tired glare, but you kept the smile on.
“Tara,” Sam groaned. “One phone call doesn’t mean I like her.”
You lost your smile, pouting at the older Carpenter. You had thought you did pretty good with the phone call. You had actually kind of enjoyed it, minus all the death threats you got.
“But she’s in danger now,” Tara argued. “If we send her back to her dorm alone then Ghostface can attack her and after that phone call he’s going to kill her horribly and painfully.”
“Wait what?” You asked, you head going back and forth between your girlfriend and her sister.
Sam tilted her head, raising her eyebrows slightly. Her head bounced around as she seemed to debate Tara’s words. You swallowed, gripping Tara a little tighter as you pulled her closer to you. You knew Sam wasn’t the biggest fan of you, but you didn’t think when it came down to your life that it was actually up for debate.
“Sam!” Tara snapped when it seemed like Sam had started to lean more towards sending you on your way.
Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. She had a small smile on her face, a smile she tended to only reserve for Tara when she was messing with her. “Alright, fine,” Sam said. “She can stay the night.” Sam lost her smile as she turned her attention back to you. She slowly made her way closer, glaring at you without blinking. “No funny business,” she pointed her finger threateningly at you. “Or I will throw you out.”
You nodded your head rapidly, letting out a small sigh of relief. Sam smiled sweetly as she turned away from you to face the others, but you could still see the lingering threat in her eyes. You shifted, tightening your grip on Tara again. She looked up at you smiling and despite just being threatened by her sister you couldn’t help but smile back. You were excited to be able to cuddle your girlfriend all night without the worries of waking up early to sneak out.
“Do you guys want to stay as well?” Sam asked the rest of the group.
“Nah, we’re good,” Chad said.
Sam nodded and walked them to the door. Chad and Ethan left, followed by Mindy and Anika who were wrapped up in a hug. Sam instantly got to locking the various locks on the door. Quinn pushed off her chair and went to her room with only a wave as a goodnight.
“Wait,” you said, causing Sam and Tara to look at you. “How much danger am I actually in?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “I’m going to bed,” is all she said. She walked past you and Tara and made her way to her room. “Goodnight!” she called out, giving a final wave of her hand before you heard the room to her door close.
“But seriously, am I next?” you shrieked, leaning back to look Tara in the eye.
Tara bobbed her head back and forth, opening her mouth to say, “Well-”
“Oh god!”
“Baby don’t worry,” Tara placed a hand on your chest in an attempt to comfort you. “I’ll protect you. For now,” she moved out of your embrace, moving her hand down until she could intertwine it with yours. “Let’s enjoy this rare occasion of you not having to sneak out and go cuddle.”
You succeeded in your goal to piss off Ghostface it seemed. Your life was in even more danger than it was before by just dating Tara, Sam willingly allowing you to stay the night at the apartment confirmed that. Though you were reasonably terrified of your potentially upcoming death you couldn’t focus on that. The girl you were crazy about was standing before you and asking you to cuddle. You wordlessly nodded, allowing her to drag you to her room. You would never deny her after all.
#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x fem reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter imagine#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#scream#scream 6#scream vi#he hung up
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This is what the fight is like
Sooo, apparently the extremely tenuous and recent nature of the LGBTQ+ community's legal right to exist was not actually super widely known to a lot of people on Tumblr?
Which clarifies some stuff in retrospect. I have so often wanted to grab people by their lapels and shout, "Stop picking on someone for not meeting your entry requirements! We need everyone we can get, you asshole! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THEY HATE US OUT THERE?"
Aaaapparently... no, they did not know. Or they knew and were a conservative psyop preparing the ground for our loss of legal rights. Fun times!
So: Look, it is bad. Shit is scary. They really do hate us out there. You're not wrong.
But: This is what we've always fought. This boat we're in with its antique fittings and strange markings on the floor is a battleship. Work has always been going on in the basements, and when shit gets tough, we clear away clutter and roll out the cannons.
I found this chart a couple weeks ago and hung onto it because it felt like the map to my first 25 years on this earth:
[Image description: A graph titled "Same Sex Marriage: Public Polls since 1988." It is from FiveThirtyEight's NYT column. It records the percentage of US Americans polled who would say yes or no to legalizing same-sex marriage, from 1988 to 2011.
The two lines begin with roughly 10% saying yes in 1988, and 70% saying no; the two lines gradually draw closer over the years, until by 2011, the percent saying finally dips under 50%, and the group saying yes makes a tentative reach for the majority. End of image description.]
After some great social change has happened, when everyone has admitted that gay marriage is very cute and Pride is a colourful parade, hooray, people like to pretend that it was just natural and inevitable and happened on its own. People just became less prejudiced! Courts just decided on a case! Governments just passed a law!
In reality, it was a vicious fucking fight, every fucking time. Every fucking where. There are a lot of people who deeply, sincerely believe that a hundred years ago, society had good rules about sex and gender and intercourse and marriage, and that changing those rules has made the world worse. They don't always agree on the specifics, but they can work together far enough to fight anyone with new ideas.
This is why we are a community. Even when we don't have the same experiences of attraction or identity, even when we don't do the same things, even when we have wildly different ideas of a good time. Because when these groups take aim, we're all under fire, and none of us is responsible for why they hate us.
In some ways I think it's a miracle that there seems to be a generation that did not grow up, as I grew up, constantly glued to news reports about What Percentage of Society Hates Us this month. I can't imagine who I'd be if my brain and heart and soul hadn't been tied up, that whole time, in the political question of whether I'd get to dream of a decent future.
I think that it will give us strength to have people who can imagine a world where no one hates us. Who believe in it so strongly they can taste it. That's my prediction: If you didn't know this was coming, you'll be a boon to us, because we have always needed joy so fiercely, in this fight, to keep us going on. We have needed drag queens and punk bands and "her wife" and safe space stickers. Parade floats and wedding days and little dogs with rainbow collars, badges and banners and meetups, because more than anything else we need to fight our own despair, and our fear that the world will never get any better than this.
It will. We know it will. We can taste it.
Look up to the history, organizations, and people who've got us this far for information on what forms of activism will actually advance our political goals. Look to the side to make sure the comrades within reach are keeping their heads above water, and that you're keeping enough joy going to stay alive. Look back to see who's more vulnerable than you are that you might have forgotten or been tempted to leave behind. Look after each other. Look after yourself.
We can do this.
To your battle stations.
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DP x DC: Dick's Totally Normal Date?
Inspired by that one juju sanpo where Yuuji thought Megumi was being hit on and he, Nobara, and Gojo pull out their ridiculous Formation B to drive away the potential date. And I thought, 'this, but batfam, but veer wildly to the left, with DP'. So here you go.
Third floor study, Wayne Manor
"Thank you all coming on such short notice", Tim said, eyes serious, one hand on the pile of documents on the table.
His siblings nodded at him, faces grave, except for Duke who just looked confused.
"I'm sure all of you already know why this meeting was called-
"I don't actually know why we are here", Duke interrupted.
He was thoroughly ignored.
-and are just waiting for confirmation. But the wait is now over. I have here the results."
His siblings all leaned forward, except for Cass who was too chill for that, apprehension radiating through their frames. Though Duke was more confused than apprehensive.
Tim sighed. "It's true. Dick is dating."
Gasps ran through the group.
Tim dropped the bigger bomb. "And its not a redhead."
Jason cursed as he leaned back in his chair, face directed at the ceiling exasperatedly. Steph brought a fist down on the table, shaking her head. Cass simply placed an elbow on arm of her chair, chin supported by the back of her hand. Damian just scoffed.
Duke looked at all of them still trying to see what the issue was and why they were even here doing this. Tired of being out of the loop the young man decided to just go ahead and bite the bullet.
"Question!", he began,"Why is Dick dating someone a problem?"
They all stared at him.
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Dude, he dated a witch king that tried to make us all into creepy dolls just a year and a half ago. The bastard almost turned everyone in Gotham into literal hamster plushies when they broke up."
"His immediate rebound after that relationship was the alien that tried to hunt him for sport", Steph contributed helpfully.
Jason waved an arm towards her while looking Duke, as if asking him why he wasn't getting the point.
And Duke...really wasn't getting the point. In fact he seemed to be getting even more confused.
"Dick's a habitual monsterfucker, old news, so what? And it isn't as if every single one of you haven't had some kind of romantic relationship with non-humans before. Even Damian's dated Jon! Besides Heira did not turn us all into hamsters. That was a joke. Aaaand Ga-va'se is a great guy and he definitely wasn't a rebound. Also he and Dick broke up really amicably and they still meet up for boba and he gives us really cool alien shit so I don't know why you guys don't like him."
"Duke, Ga-va'se hunted us for sport", Tim said from the side.
"That was because we were in his hunting grounds! Plus he apologized for that!", Duke defended his alien buddy. The guy was really nice! What was their hang up with him? Sure he was a bit murderous but hey, Duke dared his siblings to find one person from each of their social circles who wasn't a bit murderous and insane. Sure he hunted them for the better part of five days in a terrifying alien jungle a galaxy away from home but that was honestly their fault for intruding on the hunting grounds of his people in the first place. Plus it was all a misunderstanding!
"I agree with Thomas", Damian said as he thumbed through the files Tim had distributed among them. Across from him Cass was doing the same thing, rapidly turning the pages. "Partially at least. The Yautja was a worthy candidate for Grayson's hand-
"You just like him because he got you that sword, Demon Spawn", Jason drawled in that assholish tone of his that never failed to incense Damian.
-Shut it Todd! Ahem. As I was saying Ga-va'se was worthy but Heira was an imbecile. Unfortunately there are more Heiras in Grayson's romantic history than Ga-va'ses so it would be prudent for all of us to remain vigilant", the youngest member of the Wayne family finished, closing the file decidedly. "Especially if his current choice isn't a redhead."
Duke had to ask. "Again whats up with the hair colour thing?"
Tim looked at Steph pointedly. "Officer Stephanie Brown please proceed with orientation."
A truly terrifying grin bloomed on Steph's face. She stood up from her chair and walked to the wall, pulling down a projector screen. A click of a button and it came alive, with what looked like an honest to god power-point presentation on Dick's dating life. Tim slid Duke an brochure of all things.
"Dick's choice of romantic partners can be classified into three categories", she began as if she was a lecturer. She was even wearing glasses. "Redheads, which everyone and their third aunt's weird dog knows about, morally ambiguous older men, and extremely dangerous non-humans. There are outliers of course, and overlaps, but generally he tends to keep his choices confined to these groups. Turn to page 3 please."
Duke dutifully turned to page 3, which looked like it contained profiles of the various people Dick's dated in the past. If it was any other family this would be a gross invasion of privacy.
"Exhibit A- Barbara Gordon, great taste, mostly downhill from here I'm afraid. Exhibit B-Slade Wilson aka The Terminator, no I'm not kidding, the entire thing is weird and toxic. And Exhibit C-the weird eldritch thing Dick dated two years ago who I'm pretty sure is Cthulhu's actual cousin who made us all taste colours for a week straight."
"Deathstroke?", Duke exclaimed, weirded out.
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Thats who bothered you? Not Cthulhu's cousin?"
Duke huffed. "Their name is Umh'uidrritl and I know where to draw the line."
Tim side-eyed him. "On a whiteboard with an old marker maybe."
"Hey!"
"Back to my very important power-point that no one else is going to interrupt-",Steph said as she glowered at them, "-mapping Dick's dating history shows us that the more volatile of his partners tend to cause trouble post-breakup. A deeper investigation would reveal that while his harem of redheads mainly just stir up delicious, juicy drama, hot tea and angst all around baby, bless their souls, his harem of morally ambiguous older men, and harem of extremely dangerous non-human entities tend to lean towards more destructive reactions. While the former is content with kidnapping and threatening and the assorted standard yandere meltdowns-
"Yandere?", Damian murmured.
Jason just snorted.
-the latter likes to cause damage on a larger scale". The blonde gestured with a flourish and a new slide popped up.
"Exhibit A- That time Gotham almost got gobbled up like a light snack by that space whale pet of the Ryagonian emperor. Exhibit B- That time a Fairy Queen tried to spirit Dick away and almost put the entire city into an enchanted coma, which was honestly kinda festive, I'd never been more well rested. Exhibit C- That entire thing with the tentacles that we are all better off without revisiting."
Everybody in the room blanched at that last one. Duke nodded his head at their reactions. The ink really was hard to get off of clothes.
The screen went dark and she pulled the cord at the bottom, the projector screen rolling up. The blonde turned to them with a smug and satisfied expression on her face.
"In conclusion, despite there being no biological connection between them, and the fact that romantic and sexual preferences are not genetically inherited, Dick has managed to acquire Bruce's proclivity for an interesting dating life, which we all did if we're being honest. Its just that while Bruce dates across the law, Dick dates across realms and his romantic entanglements often happen to be so above our pay grade that its ridiculous. Data has shown that redheads cause the least amount of property damage so whenever he dates non-redheads, we have to keep an eye on the tea-I mean an eye on the situation."
She sat back in her chair with a satisfied air. "Questions?"
"Yes", Tim said miserably. "Did you have to bring Bruce into this? Like ew."
"I had to, yeah!", Steph replied cheerily. "You stole my croissant alienfucker!"
"Excuse you the alien fucks me thank you very much!"
Jason almost gagged. "TMI Timbo TMI!"
Duke frantically gestured at Damian. "Damian's right here!"
The boy in question just looked supremely unimpressed. "I was raised by assassins Thomas."
"Where's Cass?", asked Steph, munching on a packet of chips she produced from somewhere.
"Left this clown fest to assist Pennyworth in drugging father so that he can actually rest."
"Ah", said the whole room. Each one individually resolving to go to Bruce's room and get blackmail pics later. Sibling solidarity at its finest.
"Back to the matter at hand", said Tim, "Dick dating a possibly dangerous entity even remotely around the time frame when the Joker turned up dead is a red flag. And that's why our secret society is meeting today."
"Okay one, you think Dick's new boyfriend offed Joker? Two, this is a secret society?", asked Duke, his earlier confusion now fully evolving into resignation.
"I already filled out your documentation."
"What?"
"Don't worry. Everything's in order."
"Thats not...you know what? Thanks Tim."
"You're welcome!"
Steph chortled at the entire exchange and almost choked on her chips. Karma.
Jason leaned back with his hands behind his head.
"You know, if this guy merked the clown, and has no evil plans or something...I'm all for him actually. Guy has my vote. If they get married I might even decide not to embarrass Dickie at the wedding", he said while Steph hacked up a lung in the background.
"Be that as it may Todd, we still need to monitor the situation. If this Daniel did have anything to do with the Joker's death, then he is a dangerous individual who could pose a threat to Grayson", remarked the young Robin, and then as an add-on, "...and Gotham."
Duke sighed. There really was no escaping this was there? "So what do we have on the guy?", he asked Tim.
"Page 4. Name-Daniel Nightingale, prefers to be called Dan. Father, Vladimir Masters. Mother, Daniella Nightingale. Sister, Danielle Nightingale. Brother and sister are apparently vacationing-
"In Gotham?!, Duke asked horrified.
-and Dan met Dick during a Halloween Party in Bludhaven-
"In Bludhaven?!", Steph asked appalled.
"Why was a supposedly vacationing wealthy European in Bludhaven for Halloween?", Jason asked with a frown.
"European?!", Damian asked scandalized.
-And they hit it right off. As of now, they have been dating for five months and the relationship looks to be going strong. While the records seem legitimate, something's off about them. Also the Joker turned up dead on Valentine's Day. So my verdict...sus."
There was a bout of thoughtful silence.
Then.
"Daniella, Daniel, and Danielle? What the fuck? What are they? Clones?" asked an incredulous Jason, aghast at the unoriginality.
Duke scrutinized the provided photos closely. "Whoa, this Master's guy's genes really stood no chance! They all really could be clones for real."
Steph whistled. "He ripped!"
They stared at her. She sipped her boba unrepentantly.
"What? I'm right! He ripped!"
She was indeed right. He was ripped.
Duke put the file down. "So what's the plan? Do we just follow him around till we find out what he is or something?"
"Okay so the next week Gotham's got a week long 'Joker is Dead' carnival planned-
"Another one?", Damian asked surprised.
"We deserve it", both Jason and Steph reply vehemently.
-and Dick said Dan's taking him to the fair every single day of the celebration. If everything goes according to plan, we can sneak our way into the organizers, stall owners, ride operators whatnot and do some tests to figure Daniel Nightingale out. And if he's normal trouble we prepare for the breakup meltdown. If he's a different sort of trouble we deal with it."
"We gotta be careful though". Steph obnoxiously slurped her boba. "Or else Dick will deal with us."
They all shuddered in fear. Dick Grayson could be a mean bitch when it came to revenge.
"We'll just have to execute it well. Thomas will be adequate for the job. The rest of you fools will just have to step up, especially you Drake", Damian said as he crossed his arms across his chest, nose up imperiously.
The two robins, red and regular, sneered at each other.
Jason 'hmpfed'. "Sounds good enough. If that's it I'm gonna go. I got shit to do". He stood up from his chair and stretched, a symphony of cracking sounds coming from his spine. "Shit I'm old."
"You're just gonna re-watch Pride and Prejudice 2005 again". Tim also stood up, even more concerning popping sounds coming from his spine.
"Damn right I am", said the crime lord as he ambled out of the room.
Steph also got out of her chair and started collecting her trash, Alfred would kill he if she didn't. "I'm all in on this plan Timtam! Clown's dead, Gotham's finally calmed down, I went to bed early...No way I'm letting some ripped Adonis mess with my peace and quiet no matter how mouthwateringly swole he is! And he is swole!" With that she also swept out of the room.
"I'll update Cass!", she shouted from the corridor.
Damian had already disappeared. This left Tim and Duke alone in the room. When Tim also made to leave, Duke finally managed to break through the disbelieving fugue this entire meeting had pulled him under.
"So where's the plan Tim?"
"Oh", said the sleep deprived vigilante, already halfway out the door, "I emailed it you already."
And then there was one.
Duke just stood there processing that last sentence for a long two minutes. He sighed.
"So this meeting could've been an email."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dick is rather adventurous in his dating life. Helen of Troy vibes.
The entire operation reveals nothing suspicious. According to all the tests known to man and bat kind, Daniel 'I prefer Dan' Nightingale is a completely normal member of the Homo sapiens species. Not even a metagene. Just generously swole.
Duke being half immortal doesn't really get his siblings' reservations against some of Dick's exes. He doesn't realize that beings like Umh'uidrritl, who was not Cthulhu's cousin but a distant relative by the way, give most people incomprehensible nightmares. He on the other hand thought that Umh'uidrritl and his pet colossal hydrothermal squid were perfectly lovely. Though he and Damian high-key root for their Yautja friend.
There is absolutely no romantic relationship between Vlad and Danny. Dan and Danielle are just little shits who just love the horrified expression that overtakes Danny's face every time he sees their IDs for vacation time. To be clear its the Vlad part that horrifies him, he rocks as Daniella. Vlad, who is reformed here, is also horrified at this. Which is why the two little shits do it. Also the DP characters are all aged up. Could be by a few years, could be by millennia. They haven't deigned to reveal that to me.
Bruce spend the entire week under Alfred's careful supervision, getting rest and relaxation. He had spa days with Clark and Diana. He slept ten hours. He felt energetic in the morning. He hummed a cheerful tune. It was disgusting. He remained blissfully unaware of his eldest son's latest romantic adventure. Good for him.
Alfred thinks Ga-va'se was a splendid young man and that Umh'uidrritl was a lovely partner. He just wishes Master Dick would stop dragging in ruffians like that ill-mannered Heira every now and then. Truly a son of Master Bruce that one. What about that wonderful demon boy from a few years ago Master Dick? Mezarel was it? Oh he was sealed away, was he? Well bat your eyelashes at that man Constantine you and Master Bruce keep around and try to get that boy back will you? Such a well mannered young devil he was!
Alfred becomes that mother-in-law that never truly accepts Dan completely, still holding out hope for Mezarel to make a comeback. I've heard harems are wonderful this time of year Master Dick. A second husband would do you some good!
Dan finds this hilarious. His family does as well. Alfred also likes Dan. They have a weird understanding.
Cass likes most of Dick's exes. Except for Heira. Everybody hates Heira. Although Duke kinda likes him but even sunshine boy has his limits.
Yes the bat-siblings are doing this only for the safety of Gotham, not to also low-key annoy their big brother at all.
Yes Dan and Dick were aware of the hi-jinks.
Yes Cass did think they should just ask Dick.
Yes Dick is aware of who and what Dan is. He met him at a supernatural Samhain gala he literally stumbled into. He just rolled with it, celebrating the end of the harvest with the decidedly non-human revelers, and not only ate the food there but also drunk flirt with Dan.
Dan said, 'You're stupid. I like that in a human' and saved him from being stolen away by some very interested entities. It was the start of a beautiful relationship. Dani sometimes calls them the 'tits and ass duo' and she's right.
Danny is just happy that Dan found someone he loves and could keep up with him. He almost felt like a proud mother at their wedding and then had an existential crisis about it.
The family does find out Dan's real identity. It was after Dick accepted his proposal and it was hilarious. Jason meets Jazz at the wedding. He thinks he got infected with Dick's redhead fetish.
Yes this is all for my Dick/Dan propaganda. I hope you're not immune.
#Tim Drake#Jason Todd#Damian Wayne#Stephanie Brown#Cassandra Cain#Duke Thomas#Dick Grayson#Dick Grayson/Dan Phantom#Dick Grayson/Dan Fenton?#Dan Phantom#Dan Fenton#Dark Danny#which is it? I don't know#Danny Phantom#Batfamily#Batfam#Batsiblings#Batfam shenanigans#Jason/Jazz#in the future that is#DP X DC#DC Batfam#DC X DP#DC X DP fic#Dick Grayson's harem of redheads#Dick Grayson's harem of morally ambiguous older men#DP X DC Fanfic
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TikTok on the Clock // Daniel Ricciardo
One of the best things to come out of the pandemic lockdown was finally giving in to the urge to download TikTok. You had quickly grown addicted to scrolling through the mix of eclectic videos that popped up on your “for you page” and soon enough decided to start posting some yourself.
It did not take long for Formula 1 fans to make the connection between your account and who your boyfriend is — Daniel Ricciardo was many things but subtle was not one of them and he had a tendency to “accidentally” interrupt you while you filmed.
You kept the account going long after restrictions eased and hopped on many of the trends that made their rounds on the app. This year, you were feeling slightly evil. You have been putting together a compilation of hilarious (if you did say so yourself) pranks that you pulled on your boyfriend since the season began and were just about to hit upload as the countdown began.
You put down your phone and turn to give Daniel your full attention.
Ten
Nine
Eight
Seven
Six
Five
Four
Three
Two
One
His lips taste like champagne.
Happy New Year!
“Hey Dan?”
“Mmh.”
“Maybe stay off TikTok for a bit.”
“What did you do?”
One
You loved the Australian Grand Prix. Your boyfriend’s home race was a spectacle on the track and a great opportunity to spend time with his family off the track.
As usual, you flew out to Perth a bit early before switching coasts for the race. You were busy in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner as you prepared to host everyone that evening. When everything was mostly done, you started recording on your phone and leaned it against the wall inconspicuously before calling for your boyfriend.
“Hey, babe?” You pour a heaping pile of salt on a spoon.
“Yeah?” You can hear Daniel from across the house.
“Can you come taste my sauce?” You dunk the spoon in a pot of your tomato sauce and pick up just enough to hide the salt.
He basically runs to the kitchen, “test taster reporting for duty.”
You bring the spoon to his mouth, “I used your nonna’s recipe.”
His eyes screw shut and his mouth puckers, “my-my nonna’s recipe?”
“Your mom shared it with me. Isn’t it delicious?”
“Yeah,” his voice cracks. “Delicious.”
You look at his face again and fight a losing battle not to laugh as he desperately tries not to offend you and his grandma.
You reach towards your phone as giggles escape you.
Daniel finally realizes he’s been tricked, “are you serious?”
You point the camera towards your boyfriend, “you should’ve seen your face.”
“You’re so mean to me,” he pouts.
Two
“Babe?” You questioned coming through the front door. You had spent the day loading up on groceries and stopping by a few boutiques that caught your eye. This was the perfect opportunity to finally pull one over on your boyfriend.
“I’m in here,” you drop your bags in the foyer and follow Daniel’s voice to where he’s lying on the living room sectional.
Your phone is stuck in your bra, the camera just peaking over your shirt. “My car told me I needed windshield wiper fluid while I was out.”
He lowers his phone but keeps his focus on it.
“So I pulled into a gas station and the guy working there gave me a really good deal. He told me I got it for 50 percent off and it was only $150 for me because of how sweet I was.”
Daniel’s head snaps up as he drops his phone.
“$150?”
“Yeah.”
“You paid $150?”
“Yeah …”
“For windshield wiper fluid?”
“Yeah? He told me it was a good deal!”
“Love,” you can’t tell if he wants to laugh or cry, “I could’ve done that for free. He ripped you off.”
“But it was 50 percent off?”
“It costs less than $5 to buy and then you just pour it in!” He gestures wildly, “this is my fault. How do I race for a living and literally collect cars without teaching my girlfriend how to change her own windshield wiper fluid?”
By this point you’re silently laughing which Daniel finally notices.
“Really? Really?” He turns around to face the back of the couch, “don’t talk to me.”
“Awww, baby. Don’t be mad at me,” you coo. “I think it’s cute how protective you got.”
“Still mad at you.” It’s hard to take him seriously with his face shoved into the leather couch, muffling his voice.
Three
You walk into the gym, your phone hidden in the pocket of your leggings, and take in the view of you shirtless boyfriend.
The fans will appreciate this one.
“Dan?”
He pauses his juggling on the stationary bike.
“My back’s really been bothering since I came back from my run. Do you think you can help me stretch it or something?”
He gets off the bike and walks toward you, “do you want me to call Michael? He won’t mind coming over to help with your back.”
“Don’t bother him. It’s nothing major,” you turn away from your boyfriend and quickly stick two pieces of pasta between your molars while he can’t see, “just need to loosen it up a bit.”
“Okay …” he spreads his palms across your back and applies some careful pressure. You bite down on the pasta, timing the crack with his movements.
“Oh my god.” You let your body go limp.
“Love? Are you okay?” He tries to hold you up but you collapse on the padded floor of the gym.
“Is it your back? What did I do? I knew we should’ve just called Michael. Oh my god.”
You take pity on your boyfriend, not wanting him to think that he actually broke your back for longer than a few seconds, “it was just pasta.”
“What?”
“The sound. It was just me biting pasta. It’s a prank trend.”
He lets go of your body and you fully drop to the floor.
“Are.” He pelts you with one of the balls he was juggling.
“You.” And another.
“Kidding.” And another.
“Me?” And another.
You run out of the gym laughing as he continues to chase you through the house, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“I thought I broke your back!”
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 blurb#f1 fanfiction#f1 rpf#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1#formula one#f1blr#daniel ricciardo#dr3#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo blurb#daniel ricciardo fic
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Well Don’t! part i.
© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.
.main masterlist. .stranger things masterlist.
premise: Being in love with Steve Harrington comes with great difficulties.
Warnings: swearing, angst. SEASON 4 SPOILERS
WC: 3.7K
A/N: I can’t stop thinking about this boy, lord help me!
Fifteen minutes late, highly unlike you, but all things considered you felt it appropriate. You had been glued to the Tv watching the horrific news from the past few days unravel. Talk about a poor Hawkins student brutally murdered, on every channel. You couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from the staticy screen, not until your roommate strutted into the living room, reminding you that you had a job to get to.
You hurried as quickly as you could, grabbing all of your things before you rushed out the door. You felt uneasy as you drove to work, thinking about that poor teen, and everything that their family might be going through. You had heard the rumors, the ones saying that Hawkins was cursed, diseased, and the more you thought about it, the more you started to agree. Nothing but heartache and tragedy lived in this town.
You pull into the video store, spotting Steve’s car immediately, wondering what he would say as soon as you walked through the doors. Climbing out of the car you make your way into the store.
“Did you guys see the news?” you blurt, ignoring the way that everyone all stopped dead in their tracks as if they were doing something that they didn’t want you to know about. Steve looks up at you, his eyes widening as if you had just caught him doing something he shouldn’t be.
“Uh-?” he looks to Robin who looks as though she was going to be sick.
It's then that you notice Steve’s ‘children’ standing behind the counter, leaning over Robin’s shoulder looking at the computer.
“What-?” you point at the kids, looking to Steve for an explanation, your brows knitted together in confusion. Steve makes his way around the counter to greet you, grabbing your arms as he pulls you away to talk.
“Hey you,” he says awkwardly, smiling quickly at you.
You return the gesture, confused by his sudden odd behavior.
“Hey,” you pause, “what's going on?”
Steve takes a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room. He was acting strange, and you couldn’t help but wonder why. He lets out a chuckle, wildly gesturing behind him, “they are um. it's funny actually, but um-you know.”
You shake your head not understanding in the slightest what he was talking about. In the entire two years that you and Steve had become best of friends, you had never seen him so flustered.
“No actually, I don’t know Steve, that’s why I am asking?” you retort, bringing your arms to fold over your chest. Your eyes slowly start to narrow on him.
He rubs the back of his neck, his smile faltering. “Um..” He was stumped, at a loss for words. Never, not once had you seen Steve Harrington at a loss for words. Normally all of this wouldn’t bother you, it's not like his ‘children’ ever really kept to the rules, especially not when it came to your place of work, or come to think of it, anything for that matter. So seeing them behind the counter wasn’t what was bothering you, but it was the way that Steve seemed on edge, lost on an excuse to hide the truth of the matter.
“Steve, we found it, Lipton!” Robin calls out.
Steve looks at her, his brows shooting up, and you’re left trying to figure out what the hell is going on, his mouth slightly slack, clearly thinking of something to say. You look over his shoulder to see Dustin and Max collecting their things, and Robin scribbling down something on a piece of paper before they practically jump over the counter making their way over to the door. Steve’s eyes fall closed, sighing before he looks at you again.
“I’ve got to go do something really quick, but we’ll be back soon, okay?” He pecks your cheek, which he never did, giving your hands a squeeze before all four of them rush out of the store and into Steve’s car, leaving you completely alone without any chance to ask questions. Odd.
You had no time to process anything except for the fact that you were extremely confused, and slightly peeved at now realizing that you were left to work the shift alone. You stare around the empty store, gritting your teeth together as a bitter taste fills your mouth. You couldn’t help but feel like you had just been left out of something extremely important, and it didn’t sit well with you.
********
Four hours, that's how long they had been gone. You kept replaying what Steve said, ‘real quick…be back soon’.
“Real quick, my ass,” you grumbled, shelving the fifth copy of Howard the Duck. You had been nothing but busy all day, tending to everything that desperately needed to be done before the new shipment of movies came in. Clearing the shelves to make room for all of them, reorganizing the displays for new ones to go out, and not to mention the growing amount of returns that needed to be logged. You’d also had a non-stop flow of customers in and out all day, each one needing more attention than you wanted to give.
What didn’t help was the fact that it was Saturday, your busiest day of the week, and yet you were being forced to work it alone. Normally you wouldn’t mind it if it was any other given day, or if you’d had been given a heads up, but neither of those things had been presented to you. You were more than annoyed, and bordering on angry. There was nothing that you could think of that made sense as to why they all left you, and worst of all, with no idea as to where they were going or what they were doing. It felt like they had decided to skip out to do something ten times more entertaining, and you simply weren’t invited.
“Excuse me, ma’am, can I get your help?”
You let your head fall, taking a deep breath before you plaster on a smile and lookup. A tall lengthy boy was standing in the next aisle overlooking at you, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Yeah, what can I do for you?”
With a quick smile, he says, “I was looking for Cheech & Chong’s Up In Smoke?”
“Um, I believe we have it,” you make your way around to where he’s standing to see that there were no copies left. “Let me see if it's been returned,” you add.
“Okay, thanks.”
You make your way over to the computer, signing when you hear the bell to the door, five new customers filing in. You shake the cursor, waking the computer to see someone's account still open. What caught your eye was the last movie on their account, ‘Cheech & Chong’s Up In Smoke….Late’ You look at the top of the screen, the name Rick Lipton at the top.
You look around aimlessly for a moment, wondering why the name sounded familiar, only to realize that was the name Robin called out hours ago, right before they all hurried off.
“Well?”
Startled, you look at the boy, now standing in front of the counter looking at you. “It’s still checked out.” you snap.
The boy scowls at you before turning to leave. You grab a pen, and quickly write down the address, collecting your things and turning off the computer and lights.
“Hey everyone, um-we're closing early, sorry but you all need to leave, now!”
Nobody moves at first until you snap again, “Now!” You ignore the glares and snarky quips as you usher everyone out the door, following closely behind and locking it. You climb into your car and start it up, before setting off to investigate.
********
You weren’t sure what you were going to find out here, especially not with it being as dark as it was, and out in the middle of nowhere. You had hoped that you wouldn’t find Steve here, especially with it being so late, but there his car was, unmistakably so. You drag yourself out of the car, grabbing the flashlight that you so conveniently carried in your glove box, making your way up to the front of the house. Heartbeat hastening as you bring yourself to knock on the door.
Looking around at the exceedingly dark woods behind you, a shiver runs up your spine, an unnerving feeling that someone was watching you.
“Hello? Steve?”
You knock again, this time beating the door a little harder.
“Steve, I know you’re in there! I see your car out here!” you move to peek through the window, flashing the light inside. If this was a joke you didn’t find it funny in the slightest, if anything it was beginning to make you angrier.
“Steve! Robin!”
You bang your hand against the glass, slowly making your way around the house, looking through each window. “This isn’t funny you guys! Hellooo?!”
Something clatters in the distance, making you jump, your ears ringing as you look down towards the lake, not fond of the eerie feeling that was lingering in the night air. You catch a glimpse of a boathouse a few yards away, bordering the lake, and curse under your breath, as you slowly make your way down towards it.
“I swear to god if this is some sick prank I will strangle each of you,” you mumble.
As you get closer the door opens and Steve appears, nearly scaring the shit out of you. “Shit! Steve.” you gasp, shining the light directly in his eyes. He throws his hands up to block the light as he makes his way up the hill to you, lowering the light in your hand once he does.
“What are you doing here?” He asks.
You’re slightly taken aback by his tone, harsh and demanding as if you were the one who disappeared hours ago.
“Excuse me?” you retort, taking a step back.
“No seriously, y/n, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here! And how did you even-” he starts.
“You didn’t log out of the customer's account and so I took a wild guess! And as far as I am concerned Steve, I came to look for you, so that's why I am here, but the real question is why the hell are you here?” you say, gesturing wildly around you with the flashlight.
He runs his hands over his face, then through his hair, with a deep sigh. His hands find his hips, a stern and hostile look on his face. He wasn’t pleased, and that was easy to see, but why? You weren’t sure.
“You need to leave, please I need you to leave now.” he instructs.
You scoff at his statement, deciding that you plan to go nowhere without some explanations first.
“No, you need to tell me what is going on, now,” you make sure to punctuate the last part. He shakes his head, firm on his standing. “Y/n, I’m not playing, you need to leave right now, okay? I will tell you what's going on later, but right now I am begging you, go home.”
There was a hint of desperation and urgency to his tone, followed by the struggle for him to meet your gaze, as he kept looking behind you as if he expected to see someone standing there. The unsettled feeling growing deeper in your stomach. Something clearly wasn’t right, you didn't know what he was hiding, but no matter how hard you tried you couldn't seem to figure out what it was. Betrayal, hurt and most of all confusion, that's what you were feeling.
You look past him at the door, Robin’s head poking out along with Max and Dustin peeking out the windows. You sniff, fighting back the sudden urge to cry. Your jaw tenses, as you shake your head slowly. “Seriously, Steve?” you mumble. Your voice is becoming shaky. “Just tell me what-”
“Y/n, leave. Now.”
You nod your head slowly, biting the inside of your cheeks, “Okay..okay.” You turn on your heel, head held high and head back to your car, letting the tears fall down your cheeks.
*******
You spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering when Steve was going to come home, but much to your dismay he never did. Your mind had begun to wonder, thinking about the dead teen that had been found the other day, and you couldn't seem to stop picturing Steve in the very same situation, mangled and alone. You hadn’t had any sleep at this point, too busy watching the news to make sure you didn’t hear about another death.
“Wow, you look like hell.”
You manage to pull your gaze from the screen to see your roommate, Emma, on her way out for the day.
“Thanks” you retort.
“Just this morning another body was discovered out by Lover’s Lake. The body is still unidentified, but what we do know is it was seemingly a male, somewhere around the age of sixteen to about twenty years old…”
You droned out after the words lovers lake and male. Panic started to rise inside you as flashes of Steve lying dead flooded you. You never should have left him last night. You should have just stayed, fought him harder, and forced him to tell you what was going on.
“Hey, Steve’s home.”
Letting out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding, you turn to look at Emma, who is currently peering out the kitchen window. You clammer your feet, albeit running to the door, and swinging it open. A look of surprise and relief formed on his face as you threw yourself into his arms. He grabs you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, as he holds you in silence for a moment.
“Oh my god, you’re okay,” you mutter into the crook of his neck. He pulls away from you, with a soft smile, “I’m okay,” he says.
He pulls you inside, shutting the door after Emma, who was rushing out of the house. Steve looks at you, the same guilty, flustered look coming back to his face.
“I just came home to grab some things,” he says, biting the inner corner of his cheek.
You simply nod, still too relieved and dazed to ask any questions just yet. Steve moves around the house, collecting all manner of things, muttering to himself.
“Have you seen the news today?” you ask, standing frozen in front of the television.
He doesn’t respond, just continues his search for god knows what. The unease starts to set in again as he makes his way to the garage door, pulling it open and disappearing inside.
“Steve! Steve talk to me.” you call out, following behind him.
“I’ve just got to get a few things and then-” he trails off like he doesn't want to finish his sentence.
You move over to him, grabbing his arm, “Can you stop for a moment!“ you pull him away from the toolbox, pulling him to face you. “What are you doing?” you ask, watching as his body stiffens and his jaw tenses. You can see the bags under his eyes, he almost held the look of a crazed man who hasn't slept in ages. “Talk to me, what is going on? What happened yesterday?” you continue.
He just looks at you, his eyes glazed over and his lips pressed together.
“Steve?” you press
“Nothing, it's nothing.” His tone is dismissive and harsh, as he turns back to sift through a box full of random shit. You were tired of the empty and vague answers, or even the lack thereof. He had given you nothing and it wasn’t going to fly anymore.
“That's bullshit, Steve! I am your best friend and I deserve an explanation. You can’t keep hiding things from me.” you snap.
“I can’t tel-…”
“Do you know what this feels like Steve? It feels like I am completely left behind, watching everything from afar. Everyone knows everything but me, I am always four steps behind, and I hate it. It's humiliating. I have done nothing but worry, and panic and you have done nothing but lie to me! Feeding me bullshit, when I can clearly see that you are hiding something, that all of you are! “Do you know that there is a fucking killer on the loose? Two dead bodies already, Steve! two!” you pause, sniffing as you blink your tears away, “I don’t know when we started keeping secrets from each other, but I hate it Steve, I fucking hate it. So please.. Tell me what the hell is going on?”
He stops and faces you. shoulders hung low, eyes trained on the door behind you, and you can’t help but think he's planning an escape.
“I need you to just trust me!” he grabs an extra flashlight, mumbling something about Nancy ‘needing one of these’, and you snap.
“No, that's not good enough! I need answers,” you pause, grabbing his arm again to grab his attention. You can see literal steam rolling off him. “Why does it involve Nancy…Steve?” His eyes fall closed, shaking his head.
“We are trying to hunt down whatever is doing this.” he snaps back.
Dumbfounded by his confession you take a step back, tugging at your hair as you try to make sense of what he was saying.
“That’s incredibly stupid! Like really really stupid, Steve!” you huff, “Are you doing this as some dumb ploy to get back with Nancy, prove to her that you’re cool or something because you can catch a killer?”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he picks up a hammer, twirling it around in his hand.
“You’re going to get hurt, or even worse..killed!”
“Why do you care!?” he snaps. He looks slightly shocked by his own question, wondering what he meant by it, but says nothing about it as he runs his hand through his messy hair. You were fuming, it was like he couldn’t see how dumb he was being, and all for a girl who dumped him, if that was the case. Regardless he was setting off on a suicide mission. “Huh?” he prods.
“Because I am in love you, Steve!” you bark. You sigh heavily, feeling only the slightest amount of relief at telling him the truth. This isn’t how you wanted nor pictured how you would tell him. However, it worried you that no matter what you would say, he wouldn’t listen. That he would continue on with his heroically stupid quest. You watch the color drain from him as if you had just shot him, like your words were something utterly foul to his ears.
“Well don't,” he exhales, unable to bring himself to look at you.
It was your turn to feel the color drain from your face. Daggers, it felt like you had just been stabbed in the heart, only to have it ripped from you and crumbled before your eyes. “What?” It was more of a rhetorical question; you didn’t particularly want to hear his response. What you wanted, was to take back what you had said, pretend like everything was okay, and not like you just completely fucked up your entire friendship with him.
“I don’t need you to care about me, and I don’t need you to love me. I never asked you to-”
“Yeah, but I did!” you cut him off. “I fucking fell for you, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t.. you charmed the shit out of me, Harrington.” You sigh, throwing your hands up in defeat.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have..” he mumbles as if he didn’t want it to be heard.
“Yeah well, sadly I can’t turn it off, now can I.” You retort, biting the inside of your cheek. You wrap your arms around your body, a form of comfort and a means of warmth. It was now your turn to not meet his gaze, despite feeling his boring straight through you. You didn’t understand why he was being this way, so callous with your feelings, it was almost like he was purposefully trying to hurt you, to push you away. Perhaps it was one of his ploys to protect you, it wouldn’t be the first time, but this time hurt like no other.
“I’m a complete moron,” you sigh, letting tears fall down your heated cheeks. “I’m so fucking stupid.”
You see him move forward slightly, his arm coming up only to drop back at his side, and you mistakenly thought that he was going to comfort you, take it back and apologize.
“Why would you tell me that?” As if you weren’t already in pain, he had to ask.
You scoff, shaking your head. “Tell you what?” you ask lowly, finally bringing your gaze to meet his. All you could see was pain and sorrow.
“Why tell me you love me as soon as I mention Nancy?”
Your brows knit together as a scowl forms on your face. Was he serious to think that your confession had anything to do with her? Some jealous spat, that you thought would fix things or change his mind.
“What are you implying?” you ask, your voice quivering as you swallow hard.
He looks back at the door, the very one you could claim that he was waiting to escape through.
“I just never thought-” he pauses, as if he didn’t want to say what he was about to, “ I just didn’t think that you’d be the one to throw that phrase around out of jealousy.” he shrugs, his eyes falling to the ground. It pained him to be so cruel to you, to shatter your heart right before your eyes, the very heart that he wanted so desperately to be his, but it was the only way he could think to keep you safe. As far from the threat as possible.
You can’t stop yourself; the words just fall from your lips at this point, “Fuck you, Steve…fuck..you..” You close your eyes quickly, stopping the flow of tears as you turn and leave the garage. If his heart hadn't already shattered, it sure as hell did now.
”Good luck with your venture, Steve,” you note, taking one last look at him, because if by some miracle he did survive, it would still be the last time you saw him because when he returned, you’d be gone.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington season 4#stranger things#stranger things season 4#stranger things s4#angst#steve harrington angst#stranger things angst#stranger thing season 3#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#joe keery#the upside down
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I've got an atsumuxreader request where they are in a secret relationship but it starts getting to the point where they have little to no interaction in public. making her feel insecure and she starts wondering if he even loves her anymore, when girls start flirting with him and his teammates ask him about any girls he might be interested in and he doesn't hint at being in a relationship at all. I'm a sucker for angst to fluff!!
Thank youuuuu!! ❤️❤️
Of course, one Atsumu x Reader coming right up!(:
Atsumu was destined to be great.
If there was anything to be sure of, it was just that. Growing up with him had shown you on more than one occasion that if that boy had his eyes set on something, that he was going to achieve it. It didn't matter what it cost him, he was incredibly headstrong.
So when he approached you on a hazy morning in early December, hands trembling in a way you'd never seen before, words tumbling from his mouth so fast you could hardly understand a thing he'd said, it had shocked you. Long gone was the Atsumu that puffed his chest out every time someone complimented his skills. Long gone, was the Atsumu that didn't so much as get the nervous sweats before volleyball matches in front of scouts.
"I'm sorry, Tsumu," You start, heart pounding wildly against your ribs, "I'm not quite sure I caught that."
He visibly shudders, unable to hold eye contact as he says almost desperately, "I'd really like to take ya on a date. Please. Let me take ya on a date?"
He says it slowly, accent dripping from his mouth like molasses. He rakes a hand through his murky hair, fingers shaking so hard you almost consider asking him if he needs to sit down and just breathe.
He almost loses hope when you don't immediately answer his question, but then he looks up at you, and your mouth forms the words, yes 'Tsum, I'd love that, and his whole world tilts on its axis.
Your friendship had always been a close one. Your friends had never batted an eye at the way your head would slowly find its rest against one of his broad shoulders during movie nights, nor the way you'd wear his hoodies.
So when the shift happens, no one notices. Not even Suna, the perceptive guy he was. You both decided that maybe it was for the best, if you kept your relationship from everyone until you could figure out a good way to break the news.
It wasn't that you really thought your friends would be upset, it was just that it was all so new, and as much as you hoped it wouldn't happen, if you decided to breakup, neither of you wanted to cause rifts in the friend group.
You go on for two months like that, hiding your relationship behind the guise of your already close friendship. It isn't a terrible feat, besides the fact that 99% of the time, your boyfriends literal other half is around, making it difficult to spend any time together. But then you started looking forward to little things, like the winks Atsumu'd send you in passing at school, or his foot nudging yours beneath the desk in math class. You grew tired of watching your friends freely hug and kiss their boyfriends. You grew tired of pretending to cheer on Atsumu as a friend and not as your boyfriend.
Over time, it began to feel like you weren't really dating him anymore.
It didn't hit its breaking point until you were eating at your favorite ramen shop with the twins, Suna, and Ginjima. You feel like your heart might burst from your chest when Ginjima excitedly asks Atsumu about a girl who had been flirting with him after practice earlier in the day.
You eye him carefully, gauging his reaction. It's not that you didn't trust him, it's just the absolute lack of anything between the two of you had gotten to your head. You feel sick to your stomach when he blushes.
"Ah yeah," Your boyfriend finally says, "She was nice an' all but I'm not looking for a relationship or anything at the moment. Volleyball's the most important thing to me right now. Can't let some girl cloud my judgement, y'know? Can't take my eyes off the prize just yet-"
You shove your stool back, wincing when it clatters to the ground, catching the attention of every person in the small ramen shop.
"Woah," Suna breaks the silence, "Y/n, are you good?"
You take a deep breath, embarrassment sending a chill up your spine. "Yeah, um, sorry, I just don't feel very well. Think I ate something bad. I'll see you guys tomorrow, 'kay?"
You grab your backpack off of the ground, slinging it around your shoulders before taking off for the exit.
"Wait up," Atsumu says hurriedly, trying to catch up with you, "I'll walk ya home."
You shake your head, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. "No thanks, I don't really think you should be around me. Might cloud your judgement or-"
"Y/n."
Atsumu grabs you by the back of the sleeve, yanking hard enough that you fall against him.
"Y/n," He says again. "I didn't mean that, angel. Ya had to have known I didn't mean that, right?"
You click your tongue, feeling mad at yourself when tears collect on your lash line.
You sigh dejectedly, "Atsumu, I love being your girlfriend..but lately it's like I'm not. I can't remember the last time you genuinely kissed me. I get that we wanted to keep this a secret, but I'm really starting to wish we never decided that because I want to be able to hold your hand and wear your jersey and I want you to be able to call me 'angel' in front of everyone. It just hurt that you said all of that. Whether you meant it or not. And I know it's dumb but hearing Ginjima talk about that girl flirting with you..it made me feel icky. I dunno-"
And for the second time in one night, Atsumu cuts you off.
"Baby," He breathes, gathering you into his arms. "I am so sorry. I don't want you to feel that way. I love you. I really do. I think I have since the day I found ya sitting on the sidewalk playing with worms after a rainstorm. All I've ever wanted to do is respect you and yer wishes, so if I'd known ya felt like this I wouldn't have been so closed off."
You press your face into his chest, breathing in the smell of his deodorant. "Can we stop being a secret, 'Tsumu? I'm sick of being secretive."
You feel him nod his head before his lips press against the top of your head. "Me too. It's hard to not be able to boast about my girl to all my friends. Did you know that she's the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on?"
"Is she?" You ask, heart in your throat.
"Yeah," He confirms, "And, don't tell her this, but sometimes I feel like my heart is reaching for hers. That's how in love with her I am."
You tilt your head back to look at him, nearly swooning when he whispers, "There she is. There's my beautiful girl."
Leaning up, you kiss him softly.
"Love you," You whisper, nudging your nose playfully against his.
"Who loves me?"
"I love you."
You can feel the way Atsumu grins before he returns the sentiment.
"I love ya, too, baby."
You take a deep breath, heels finding the ground as you suggest going back to the ramen shop to talk to the guys about your relationship.
"Ah," Atsumu says awkwardly, "Something tells me they already know."
You turn to find the Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima standing not far from you guys.
"How long have you been watching us?"
"Long enough to find out that you guys are together!" Ginjima says, accusation etched into his tone. Suna snorts, and nudges Osamu.
"Nah, we've known."
Ginjima raises his hand, "Hello? I didn't?"
Osamu deadpans, "No shit, Sherlock. Else you would've kept your big mouth shut and not upset the lady back there."
You're suddenly unsure of if you feel relieved that your relationship is out in the open or slightly afraid. Either way, all you know, is that you are loved, and for now, that is more than enough.
#atsumu x reader#atsumu angst#atsumu miya#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu#haikyuu#atsumu miya imagines#miya atsumu imagines#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader
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My Lord (Darth Maul x Female Reader Smut)
Summary: When Maul took over the throne of Mandalore, you knew your best option was to surrender after watching him kill Duchess Satine. What could you do after all? You were powerless against the powers he possessed.
Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Dub-Con, Dom/sub, Unprotected Sex, Violence, Force-Choking.
Author's notes: Just pretend Mother Talzin fixed Maul up with a lower body of flesh and bone, okay?
"Do you swear allegiance to me?"
"Yes, My Lord." Prime Minister Almec got down to his knees and bowed his head.
"Yes, My Lord," you spoke, your voice barely beyond a whisper as you kneeled before the new ruler or Mandalore. You glanced up at Maul, your breath leaving your lungs at the look he gave you. His eyebrow was raised, his lips curved into a slight smile as his eyes drank in the sight of you. You quickly averted your gaze to the floor again, your cheeks burning as a familiar ache pooled in the pit of your stomach. There was something about him that you found utterly attractive. Perhaps it was his commanding charisma and authority you found appealing or simply the fact he had the power to kill you with a simple snap of his hand.
"Y/n, is it?" You jumped at the sound of your name, your heart hammering wildly as you looked up at him again.
"Y-Yes, My Lord."
"You were Duchess Satine's personal aide, were you not?"
"Yes, My Lord."
Maul smiled. "Perfect. Then, you shall be mine."
A rush of arousal surged through your sex as he spoke the word "mine." You closed your eyes, nodding at your new Lord.
"Yes, My Lord."
Maul's soft chuckle vibrated through the air, sending ripples through your body. "Excellent. Everyone, leave us. I need to speak with my aide alone."
You held your breath as everyone left, your eyes flickering, but looked firmly at the floor as Maul started stalking around you in a circle.
"Stand up."
You instantly obeyed and felt as if an invisible force ordered you—something else than the dark force. Your cheeks burned as Maul stepped closer, still circling you, slowly, like a predator stalking their prey.
"Will you obey me in all things, my dear?" Maul whispered right beside your ear, his hot breath licking the skin on your nape.
"Y-Yes, My Lord," you whispered back, gulping as you felt your entire body tremble from the closeness of his body behind you.
"All things?"
"Y-Yes, My Lord."
"Good. Good." Maul leaned down, inhaling your scent. You closed your eyes and took a quivering breath as another wave of arousal flooded through your core as the touch of his breath sent a trail of goosebumps across your skin.
"You can leave now. And send in the Prime Minister. I need to speak with him."
Flashing your eyes open, you looked at him confused, but Maul only had a smug grin on his face as he returned to sit on the throne.
"Yes, My Lord," you said and bowed before you left the great hall. Once the door closed behind you, you relaxed your shoulders and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. What was that about?
Maul continued to tease you for weeks. Little hints here and there. Words whispered into your ear how beautiful you looked in the dresses he bought for you. A slight touch of his fingers or his hand on your lower back as he walked beside you. His smirks haunting, taunting you until your body was practically begging for him to take you. Yes, he certainly seemed to enjoy this little frustrating game he played with you.
One day, Maul returned home frustrated over something. He barked at the guards more than usual and banged the door close behind him using the force.
"Y/n?! Where are you?! I need you here, now!!!"
You heard his shouting throughout the castle, his voice vibrating through the walls into your room. You hurried to the great wall with your breath in your throat, closed the door behind you before kneeling at his feet.
"My Lord."
Maul watched your kneeling form beneath him, his gaze licking the shape of your body dressed in the tight, black dress he'd bought for you. It was so easy to play you into his will, so easy to manipulate your submissive mind. Back on his home planet, the males might be the submissive ones, but here it was different. Here, he had all the control. And there was nothing he loved more.
"Undress."
A pang of heat rushed through you at his words, and you flickered your eyes as you looked up at him.
"W-What?"
An instant flash of anger burned in Maul's eyes, and he lifted his hand. Your eyes widened when you felt the invisible force around your throat, forcing you up on your feet. You were choking, struggling for breath as your frightened eyes stared at Maul. He had a wicked smirk on his face as he locked your arms behind your back with the force, leaving you completely at his mercy.
"M-My Lord...please...," you begged through his choking, but shamefully felt how wet you had become.
Maul tilted his head as he let go of your throat. Your head fell down and you gasped for air, felt his fingers on your chin, lifting your head up.
"You said you would obey me in all things, did you not?"
"Yes, My Lord," you whispered and looked up at him, met his eyes looking mockingly down at you.
"Well, I want you to undress for me."
You bit down on your lip and closed your eyes. What options did you really have? He would kill you if you didn't obey. That much you knew. And besides...wasn't this what you wanted after all? Opening your eyes, you took a deep breath as you looked up at him and nodded.
"Excellent," Maul purred and let go of your arms. You slumped down on the floor as the force left you. Rising to your feet, you started disrobing your dress, slowly pushing the straps down your shoulders and sliding the tight material down your body. Shyly, you glanced up at Maul and his expression caused another wave of arousal between your legs. His yellow eyes looked transfixed on the naked skin your hands laid bare for him. It spurred you on, his apparent attraction for you encouraging your boldness. A smile tugged on your lips as you removed your bra and let it drop to the floor. Next to disappear from your body were your panties, and then you stood naked before your Lord.
"Beautiful. Absolutely exquisite," Maul mumbled as he circled to stand behind you, his thumb and finger rolling a nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You gasped as the sudden pain sent a pleasurable surge to your core and you had to press your trembling thighs together. Maul noticed it and chuckled.
"I can smell your arousal, little human," he rasped into your ear as his other hand moved down between your legs, his fingers playing with your clit. A soft moan escaped your lips and your hips bucked against his hand. Maul snickered and ran his fingers through your folds, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"So wet and needy," Maul grinned and lifted his fingers to his mouth, sticking out his tongue and flicking it across his finger, tasting your arousal. You mewled at the sight and pressed your thighs together to ease the ache now throbbing violently with need to have his cock inside you.
"Your thoughts betray you, little one," Maul mused into your ear before he walked over to the throne and sat down. "You want my cock? You'll have to earn it first."
All your previous shyness was gone. All you cared about now was how much you wanted him inside you. Smirking, you lowered yourself to your hands and knees and started crawling over to him. A smirk curled the corner of Maul's lip as he watched you crawl over to him like a cat in heat. So obedient you were, so eager to please your Master. You stopped between his parted legs and looked up at him with the submissive, innocent gaze you knew he craved.
"Go ahead, little one. Get that cock into your mouth."
Biting your lip, you opened his trousers, your mouth watering as his long, glorious cock bounced out. It looked just as you'd imagined, black with the same red markings covering his body. Darting your tongue out, you looked up into his yellow eyes as you swirled it around the tip of his cock, earning a grunt in return. You smirked and took the cock head into your mouth, sucked it between your lips, teasing him until he gave what you wanted.
Maul groaned and took the back of your head in his hand, pushing you down on his cock with one, forceful thrust. You gagged, your eyes widening as the Sith shoved his cock down your throat. Maul growled, the sound resonating throughout the room, pulsating in your clit, cunt throbbing to be filled.
"That's it, little human...take it like a good girl."
Maul took a painful grip on your hair, holding your head still as he started thrusting into your mouth. He buried his cock down your throat so deeply your vision got blurry and saliva drooled down your chin as you desperately choked for air.
Maul growled and yanked you away from his cock. You stared up at him with wide eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. Maul leaned down and crashed his mouth against yours, kissing you violently and smearing your saliva all over his lips. You mewled into the kiss, gasped as Maul suddenly lifted you up on his lap and impaled you on his cock.
"Fuck!!!" you cried out and arched your back as Maul's cock stretched you out and filled you up.
"Oh, you like that, my dear?" Maul chuckled darkly, watching your quivering body as he buried himself balls deep inside you. "I asked you a question!" he snarled, took a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. His other hand was on your waist, forcing you in place on his cock.
"Yes!" you shrieked at the pain on your scalp, struggling to break free from his grip, his cock buried deep inside you, making you feel so full.
"Yes, what?!"
"I love it! I love your cock inside me, Master!"
"That's right. And it's the only cock you'll ever feel."
Maul let go of your hair, his hand landing on the other side of your hip as he started pounding up into your cunt. You held onto his shoulders, your entire body trashing like a ragdoll as he fucked you hard, ferociously. You lost your mind in a pleasurable haze, all your thoughts dismantling in a cloudy fog as pleasure consuming you. A few seconds later, Maul roared as he fucked you over the edge, his cum pumping into your spasming pussy.
You slumped down on Maul's still clothed chest with a satisfied smile, feeling his cock slide out of you along with his cum.
Maul watched your naked form snuggling up against his body, his hands gently stroking your hips. He kept staring at you as something filled his chest. Something soft and warm and...Maul shook his head, frowning at the sickening feelings inside him. He grabbed your arms and lifted your upper body away from his chest.
"You did good. Now, run along, little human. I have business to attend to. I'll summon you when I need you again."
A shadow of disappointment washed over you, but you quickly regained your bearings. Maul was a Sith, of course he didn't care about you. This was all about him and his needs. Quickly, you got dressed while Maul sat on the throne, looking bored and waiting for you to leave already. You bit on your lip and pushed back your tears as you walked out of the room and closed the door behind you.
Maul watched the closed door with a troublesome feeling in his gut. Then, he blinked his eyes and pushed these strange feelings away as a smirk spread across his face. He felt so much better after this little rendezvous, so much more focused and calm. Yes, he would have use of you whenever he needed to relieve some stress. His exquisite little human.
#darth maul x reader#darth maul x you#darth maul smut#darth maul fanfic#darth maul imagine#darth maul#maul x reader#maul x you#maul smut#maul fanfiction#star wars smut#star wars maul#star wars darth maul
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I went to see this really great Talking Heads cover band on Friday, and before the show started one of my friends ran into a guy she vaguely recognized, and while they tried to figure out how they knew each other, one of that guy’s friends started chatting me up.
Gang, I can’t stop thinking about this guy. Not because he was hot (though he was), but because I have never in my life felt so wildly unmoored while speaking to another human being.
Like, he told me his name, I told him mine, and then I made a very in context joke about a lizard - too much to explain here, but I promise it made sense at the time. He responded, and I am not taking any liberties as I quote this:
“A lizard? Aren’t those the little guys that run around on two legs sometimes?”
It is hard to know what to say to that. I am good with conversational curveballs, but this was out of left field. I hesitated, then put on a very polite social smile and responded “yeah! I guess lizards do run around on two legs sometimes!”
“You are much like a lizard, then.” He said. “You’re also on two legs.”
Well.
I was briefly saved from having to come up with a response because the opening act started playing. Opening acts are hit and miss, but I was happy to discover that this particular one, Ruby Dear, has a frontwoman with an absolutely incredible voice. Like holy shit, after the first song my friend and I looked at each other and simultaneously said “PIPES.” I got pretty into their set, and would have been bummed out when they had to wrap up if the promise of a truly spectacular Talking Heads cover band wasn’t on the horizon.
I had by this point forgotten about my new friend The Lizardman, but he tapped me on the shoulder and said “Did you like the performance?” Okay, that’s a normal question, I could handle this conversation.
“Yeah, I thought they were great! Did you like them?!” I said.
“Yes! I’ve never been to a concert before!” He replied.
Well.
“…HOW?” I finally said.
He shrugged. “I just haven’t.” I had to study him to see if he was fucking with me. He did not appear to be.
This presented a new question. He looked like he was roughly in my age range (late 20s/early 30s), but was it possible that he was very young?? He had to be at least 21 though, he’d been carded at the door and was drinking a beer. Furthermore, the friends he was with were in their late forties at the absolute youngest.
“You must really like the Talking Heads, if this is the show that got you to come out!” I finally said.
“Oh, I’ve never even heard a song by them.” He replied politely. “That’s the band that’s playing next?”
Well.
“The band playing tonight is called Start Making Sense.” I finally explained, after I had wrapped my mind around this. “They play songs by the Talking Heads. The Talking Heads broke up in like 1990.”
“Oh! Cool!” He said. “Were they any good?”
“… Yes.” I said after another few moments of interal debate about whether this guy was fucking with me. He had to be fucking with me.
Per the awestruck expression on his face after the band opened with Psycho Killer, he was not fucking with me. And he had questions.
“EVERYONE IN THE AUDIENCE KNEW ALL THE WORDS?!??” He exclaimed.
“YEAH WE ALL LIKE TALKING HEADS ENOUGH TO GO TO A TALKING HEADS COVER SHOW!” I yelled back.
“THAT’S AMAZING!” He decided.
And like, putting myself in his shoes (by which I mean the shoes of a time traveler from either 1600 or 2400), I had to agree with him.
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Sunsets.
They were always better when you watched them with someone else.
You glanced down at the hands in your lap: yours and Sam's, twined together like your lives have been for the past 5 years. The best of friends from the moment her family moved into town. You couldn't remember a time when you existed without her.
She's chatting now, telling some story about her boyfriend's dunce behavior to cheer you up after Mark broke your heart. Douchebag. You don't really know how you got here of all places; how things seemed to go so right with him and then so terribly wrong.
Sam made a joke at both Patrick and Mark's expense. You laughed and the sound of it was unfamiliar and almost roared in your ear, like a hundred people were laughing.
Everyone always laughed at Sam's jokes. Everyone loved Sam. Everything always worked out for her, even in the most unlikely situations. She was just lucky like that.
You told her once, after she won the talent show at school, that it almost seemed like she was the star of The Samantha Show or something. She found it hilarious, apparently, but you had an inkling that her feelings were still hurt. This was real life, not TV. She didn't just win because she was some main character, she worked really hard on her dance routine.
You felt a little bad after that, never brought it up again. The dark little voice deep down inside you smothered for now.
Because yeah, she did work hard. You knew that. She was smart and talented and funny and caring and a great friend and neighbor and that's just how it was because...
Because...
Because she strived to be all of those thing.
Things you…really didn’t bother with.
Because you were…
You.
Average, squeaking by a three-point-something GPA, wannabe artist who could barely draw, never left town before even when there was that field trip to DC because you got the mumps. A little nervous, a little clumsy, a little romantic with your head in the clouds. You always had a crush but nothing ever really came of those crushes until Mark.
The only boy to ever like you back and then he broke your heart.
“I just want to disappear,” you muttered pathetically and let go of Sam’s hand to cover your eyes again.
"So do it!" Sam finally hopped to her feet in the way that only she could, raring for another passioned, motivational speech that she was known for. You really needed one of those and also loathed that she was about to give you one. "Disappear! Leave!”
This was not the speech you expected.
"Uh, what?" you let out a mixture of a scoff and a laugh, tears forgotten for now. "What do you mean leave? Hello, graduation in a few months. Prom? Then college. What happened to your big plan last week? One last summer in Port Geneva?"
"Forget one last summer," she waved her arms wildly. "This is your life! You're my best friend, I want you happy. Tell me the truth. Do you really even want to go to college? Wouldn't you rather pack up big blue and go on that adventure like you talked about in 8th grade?"
At your blank stare, Sam grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you.
"That's the whole reason we're friends in the first place don't you remember? The ice breaker?! Are you kidding?"
"I don't have a clue," you giggled as she jostled you around.
"Our entire friendship built on a lie. UGH. Ok. Mrs. Mills what-do-you-wanna-do-in-10-years activity? And everyone's was stupid. Tina wanted to be on the cover of Tiger Beat for the Girl Superstar issue. Patrick...gotta love him...but he wanted to be the starting quarterback for the Miami Dolphins. Mine was so dumb I don't even want to say it, great first impressions I made as the new kid.
"But you wanted to see the world! Pack your bags and board a train around the US. Paint the sunset at the Grand Canyon. See glaciers in Alaska! Hell, you even said you'd travel to Middle Earth if you could. And I thought you meant the equator!"
You both laughed and as she went on and on about things you apparently said 4 years ago and as the memory came back to you, your heart ached.
Yeah, you did say that stuff didn't you? You’d been such a silly, idealistic kid before you grew up and reality hit you time and time again.
"That was just kids stuff Sammie," you laughed dismissively. "I'm...I'm gonna take classes at State, and I'm gonna work at the furniture store and I'm gonna..."
"You're gonna pine over Mark Greckman over the rest of your life?" The hands were on her hips again. "No, ma'am, you...you're gonna go on your adventure and...oh my...you're gonna find a prince of some European kingdom or...or a handsome stranger in an Italian villa. Or both. Hoards of men fighting for your affection."
"Please stop," you stood up and grabbed her as she started waving her arms around and pantomiming kissing a tall stranger. "Stop it."
"Ok I'm done, I'm done," she promised. "I just don't want you to be crying over that idiot anymore. And we might be close to graduation but...I don't know...you can still change your mind."
"Hmm," you shrugged. "I dunno. If just sounds so…”
“Unlike you?”
“Yeah.”
"Just think about it," she urged you. "You and your Volkswagen Beetle…and the world...the whole universe if you want it! The possibilities are endless. I just feel like...1985...it's gonna be your year."
There was a spark of inspiration that grew inside of you, and in your heart, you knew she was right.
You pulled her into your arms, grateful to have your best friend.
"Port Geneva was filmed in front of a live studio audience."
Eddie hit the rewind button on the remote and watched the scene speed in reverse until it hit Sam’s big speech. He hit play and watched for a minute then paused, the blurry image of your giggling face frozen on his screen for the foreseeable future.
He sighed and leaned back on the couch to enjoy your company for a minute.
The living room was dark, only illuminated by the glow of the TV and the street lights outside shining through the windows. There was a stack of tapes on the coffee table, along with his abandoned homework. The pizza he ordered would be here soon but for now…it was just you and him.
“M’sorry Mark was an asshole,” he said aloud into the still room. “To be honest…I kind of warned you about him way back.”
You don’t say anything. You never do.
“I know, the heart wants what it wants.” He picked a piece of lint off of his jeans. “I just want to look out for you honey.”
You stay smiling on the screen, and he can imagine it got the slightest bit bigger when he said that.
“I know you try to look after me too. Guess that doesn’t stop either of us getting hurt right?” He chuckled and pat his hands on his lap.
This was pathetic, talking to a fictional character like they were really in the room with him.
You were just…you were everything. And you’d been there for him, a balm to his woes. You had been since he started watching Port Geneva way back when, but especially since everything went down last year.
With his dad and the house and…
There was a knock at the door and Eddie hit the eject button so he could put in the next tape in watch with dinner. It was gonna be a good episode, you tell Mark off and even punch him; he remembered it fondly.
Defending yourself. He was proud of his girl.
Eddie ate his dinner and watched his episodes, taped from when they originally aired. Wednesday nights at 9pm, right before the news. He did his homework and occasionally repeated the rewind-pause-play act that he had perfected over the years so he could make another joke or, just once, complain about his chemistry homework.
Life was hard. For everyone. But especially if your name was Eddie Munson. Still, he endured. He’d never been a stranger to fantasy and escapism, he had his books and his game and his movies but there was something so…comforting in the realism that was your show.
A small suburban town full of normals. All sorts of mundane activities that mostly everyone made feel were…life altering events. And a handful of misunderstood outcasts—like you and Scott and Bonnie—who played supporting characters to the stars. Stars that were, quite frankly, unrealistic and annoying.
Eddie felt that way sometimes though, like he was just some background character waiting for his chance at the spotlight. Who had been the main character in his story, huh? Ronnie? Yeah…he could see that, now that she was on her great college adventure.
But with her gone, what would come of his storyline? Did he just fade into the background again?
Eddie ejected the tape before the current episode finished and propped his feet on the coffee table as he flipped the channels to something else. He needed to focus on something else. He would come back to his tapes, to you, another night and he would wish that you were real once again. Knocking on his door, taking him on a grand adventure with you.
But for now he just needed to stew in his…sad secondary character thoughts.
You got your time in the spotlight, a 2-episode arc at the end of the season, and as much as he hoped that it would be his turn soon…to be the character everyone loved…the person everyone loved…he knew it might never happen for him.
Eddie the Freak. Eddie the outcast. Eddie the idiot.
He would even take a single scene dedicated to him at this point.
Was that too much to ask?
Coming in 2024.
Find the Masterlist here. And the original blurb here.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#Eddie Munson angst#stranger than (fan)fiction#eddie munson#Stranger things fic
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And the other one is for Yandere cowboy Knoxx,inspired by the previous what if,
what if reader is an immigrant wanting to work a job with high salary that's why she was at Knoxx's town,and reader want to visit her family back at her hometown,will Knoxx come and how would he greet reader's family?will he be accepted?What would he do to achieve his rightful place beside reader without murdering reader's family?
Yandere! Cowboy x New in town! Teacher! Fem! Reader
WHAT IF: The reader goes back to the city, but this time with Knoxx?
Okay. For Knoxx not to go haywire by the prospect of darling going home, this meant that there will be an established relationship! So, the reader is still a teacher, and is actually together with Knoxx already. You're an immigrant from a foreign country. Guess which one?
This one will also be short!
Knoxx remembered the first time you got here in this town.
You, helping Red from getting washed away by the river, you in your teacher uniform, him staking his claim while putting a hat on you...
It felt so long ago.
Now, you're in a relationship with him.
He heard about your story from your own mouth.
An immigrant, you moved here in order to have a higher paying job. Especially that the country you came from had a weaker currency. So more money.
He admired your hardworking spirit, and vowed to help you as much as he can.
You're an amazing teacher. Despite being from a foreign country going to a small, tight knit town, everyone loved you. You're smart, kind, generous, and really good at teaching kids.
No wonder everyone was so on board with you dating Knoxx.
And, when you told Knoxx about your plans on going home AND introducing him, he was through the moon.
"Darlin! Are you sure? Then yes! I will gladly meet yer family!" He grinned, thinking of how it would be nice to meet the people who reared you to be such an amazing person.
The flight there was a bit scary, but Knoxx held you tight. Despite being rich, it was his first time flying. Because most of the time he was just in the town. The only time he left was for University.
You giggled, holding his hand and giving him the warmest smile with a squeeze on his hand.
"Calm down, okay?" You whispered, giving him a kiss on his temple that made him relax in your touch.
Touching down, he felt his heart pump wildly in nervousness.
He's a family man. The Wyatt's were known to be a tight knit family. So he's naturally eager to get the approval of yours too.
"Mama! I'm here!" You yelled.
Suddenly, footsteps raced towards the both of you and the gates opened.
"Iha! Come! Come!" Your mother, in her bestida, welcomed you back in her arms.
Your mother suddenly stilled, looking up at Knoxx who only flinched and bowed down.
"Hello missus! I am Knoxx, yer daughter's boyfriend." He said. His voice low and respectful. His cowboy hat perched on his chest.
"Ah! Knoxx! It's you, the cowboy! Ay, come in you too!" Your mother's thick accent comforted Knoxx, like a warm blanket covering him.
You both got inside the house, and the luggage were immediately taken by your siblings by the order of your mother.
"Is Papa here?" You asked.
"Ah, Papa's working. He's always busy you know." Your mother shooked her head. "Anyways, you both must be tired! Let's eat! I cooked sinigang."
Knoxx felt at home.
Your hometown is a province, filled with farmlands and ranches. It was the same as Knoxx's, and he knew he would have a great time spending time here.
"You have an amazing place 'ere, missus!" Knoxx said, looking around the knick knacks, medals, trophies, picture frames, and random memorabilia in your home. "It's very 'omely."
"Oh we try, cowboy." Your mother said. "Now come, let's eat."
Days passed by, and Knoxx integrated well with your family. Your dad likes him very much due to him being a rancher and also somebody well versed with farming. Your siblings treated him like a real brother, playing with him on the fields. Your mother spoiled him, cooking him your country's foods he never got to try.
Knoxx looked really happy.
And as you watched Knoxx help your father till the fields with a carabao and an old style tiller, you knew you found the man in your life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Knoxx is sweet like that fr fr. He would never kill your family nor you. But, friends and acquaintances are not safe though LMAO
#yandere boyfriend#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere writing#male yandere x reader#tw yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere fic#yandere drabbles#lizzaneiaelizalde
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I'm having a galaxy brain moment: Winter Soldier AU 👀
Hob and Dream both grew up together in the same neighborhood. Initially, Hob was the lanky one, as he was from a family significantly more poor than Dream. But he always fought everything and everyone, especially those who dared pick on Dream. His beautiful, dark, lonely friend.
When they grow up, Hob wants to be a soldier, fight in wars, but his physique doesn't let him. Dream, who volunteers at the same time, is sent to the front, to their mutual dismay as they are now separated.
Until a scientist named Death because the experiments haven't gone tremendously well sees Hob and asks him if he wants to be their next lab rat for their "Immortality Serum", a treatment that will make him incredibly strong and pretty much indestructible. Hob, being the Himbo we know and love, and thinking how impressed Dream will be with his new muscles, says yes.
Cut to Hob in tight Spandex and other cute outfits being shipped to the front, where he is reunited with Dream. On a mission together, Dream falls off their train and is declared dead. What's worse, right before hia descent he told Hob he loved him.
Hob is devastated. His one true love is gone, there is little for him to move forward. Eventually he crushes into some ice, and is declared Deep Frozen, until 100 years later.
The reason he was defrosted? He is believed to be the only one able to go after The Winter Soldier, a deadly assassin hiding behind a horrifying mask who seems to be taking orders from some dark master he can't refuse. It's because his master, Burgess, is using some specific magic words and runes that bind Dream to him.
Yes, the Winter Soldier is Dream. Deprived of his memories, his empathy, his identity. Hob doesn't know who he is, and they fight, until during a hand-to-hand he curses a swearword that was an inside joke between him and Dream. The Soldier freezes, and in that split second Hob is able to remove his mask. Imagine his shock when he sees Dream, his Dream, staring back at him with no recognition. But it is Dream, without any doubt. Nobody has eyes this blue, lips this pink, skin this beautifully pale.
He weeps for his friend, both happy he is still alive but also desperate because he isn't his friend? The Soldier goes back to trying to kill him, and Hob is about to let him finish the job, he won't fight Dream, he won't hurt him ever ever ever.
That gives the Soldier pause, he doesn't understand why his target doesn't fight back. That gives Hob hope, that maybe his beloved is still in there.
How will Hob bring him back?
Ahhh, this is a great au for them!! Mostly because I want to see Hob’s butt in the spandex. He would definitely cheer on the morale of the troops!
And Dream would look so cool in the Winter Soldier gear, maybe with his hair grown out and flying wildly around his face. Fighting hard against the brain washing as he tries to remember why this unfamiliar man might be important to him. None of it makes any sense, and Dream is just so tired. Burgess doesn't let him sleep properly, and although it doesn't impact his physic capabilities, it's just another method of torture because his mind can't rest. He can't dream.
He stops fighting Hob, because he's confused and because he's tired. He steps back. Hob sees an opportunity, and he seizes it! He starts telling stories from their childhood. All the games they invented, the raven that Dream nursed back to health, all the times Hob got beat up by other kids because he defended Dream’s "weirdness". Everything he can remember, finishing up with the moment Dream finally declared his love for Hob. Hob is weeping the whole time as he speaks, and Dream just listens in stoic silence.
And then his eyes fix on Hob’s face. There's the barest hint of recognition amid those dazzling blue irises. He's fighting hard against the magic. "I never got to hear your answer. If you loved me too, or not." He whispers.
"I did." Hob manages to sob. "And I still do."
And maybe it's enough to break the magic, at least for a moment. And even if Hob can't save Dream, at least he'll know. That he's loved. Even if Hob can't save him, Dream will fight for that love with his own hands, until he's free of Burgess. Hob’s fought for Dream often enough, and now it's Dream's turn to fight for him.
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I got a lot of asks on this topic with slight variations of essentially the same question so here goes.
Fake confidence is not confidence. It’s literally fake, it says that in the name. It’s pretending. That’s not terrible but if you’re wondering why all this time has gone by and you still haven’t become truly confident it’s because it’s fake! At best it will appear real to outsiders, which is nice, but you will still be miserable as the person who is inhabiting your body and living your life. Fake confidence only looks good until someone with authentic confidence walks into the room and shows you how it’s done. The truth is that most people who fake it until they make it, don’t ever make it. They are just hoping to be perceived as someone who has made it.
I’m sorry to tell you but if you’ve been doing affirmations for years and years and you’re still sending me asks about being confident, it’s not working. I can’t say if you’re doing it wrong, not doing it enough, or not believing it hard enough but either way, something’s gotta give. How many more years are you gonna waste?
You start building confidence in 2 ways: one, you get action-based self esteem. Get some hobbies and work on them. Learn some skills, get good grades, try something new. Do something with your days!! Make an effort!! Complete something!! Scrolling all day won’t give you a sense of accomplishment and when 5,7,10 years go by and you look up and realize that you have nothing going for yourself, you will obviouslyyyyy feel like crap. Reread this point over and over again. Two, get in tune with yourself and figure out what you like, dislike, and truly want. When you really know yourself like that, you will make moves accordingly. You won’t question everything you do and run all of your decisions past other people. You’ll just happily make decisions on your own accord. You will not get to know yourself on a deep enough level if you are online all day and that’s a fact. You’re constantly bombarded with everyone else’s content, everyone else’s opinions, everyone else’s sense of style. Your brain has become a frankstein monster of every other persons ideas. Who are you even? Do you even know? Without a bunch of tiktok girls to tell you what your new aesthetic of the month is, do you even know what you like doing, buying, wearing, how you like to decorate, or what you want to do as a morning routine? Or are you just gonna keep letting outsiders tell you that in January you’re a pink Pilates princess and in March you’re a clean girl and in July you’re that girl. Who are you?? You’ll never be confident if you’re always cosplaying other people. Log off and find yourself.
Stop crumbling every time someone doesn’t like you or what you do. Learn to like yourself! Stop letting the opinions of strangers hold you hostage. Do you like yourself? Okay then.
Remember that being confident doesn’t require you to think you’re the best of the best, the crème de la crème, the hottest thing walking. You can think your looks are overall average, and still be wildly confident. You can acknowledge that you aren’t the best in the world and still be confident. Not only is being less than perfect absolutely okay, it’s rooted in reality. When people try to boost your confidence by having you tell yourself that you’re essentially perfect in whatever domain, that’s toxic positivity and fake confidence yet again. Rid yourself of the thought that confidence always looks like arrogance and lying to yourself about being at the top of the pyramid. Yes you have shortcomings. Lots of them. So do I. And???
I just want to reiterate that lying to yourself hardly does anything for your confidence long term and it’s just so clear. If you are upset about the fact that your body is average, your face is average, you have little to no dating experience, and you haven’t been a part of any substantial activities since freshman year volleyball where you weren’t even that great and quit after one year, I don’t know why you think that pretending you’re Maddy Perez or Jennie while you halfheartedly recite affirmations that state you’re the sexiest woman in the room ✨, everyone is obsessed with you ✨, you attract nothing but life’s luxuries ✨ is really helping you. Like….this isn’t building your confidence really. Giving you a bandaid perhaps. But what would really make you feel better is to go out and get some activities into your schedule where you start at a low level and through your hard work you get better and better. You start working out and building the body you want. You accept the fact that you don’t need to be the prettiest girl in the world to enjoy yourself and have a fantastic life, so instead you style your hair and makeup in a way that you genuinely like and confidently go out into the world knowing and fully being okay with the fact that not everyone thinks you’re stunning but that’s okay. Because you are pleased when you look in the mirror. And there’s more to life than trying (and failing) to be everyone’s type. That’s much more progress than listening to “manifest looking like an instagram model 10 hour 3D audio” every night.
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