#i did not proofread this so

[scuderiahoney]

Empty Space

Max Verstappen x reader // Strawberry Wine Pt. III

Strawberry Wine Series // Masterlist

Part Three of Strawberry Wine

Summary: Max wakes up alone. He finds himself wishing the night before had been a bad dream. Title from Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, sexually suggestive content, ANGST (happy ending I swear)

Max sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the wall. The room is shockingly empty. Just last night, you were in bed next to him. When he’d closed his eyes, he’d pretended everything was alright. He’d listened to the sound of your slow, even breaths and pretended you were asleep, not laying awake just like he was. Eventually, between that and the utter exhaustion of the day, he’d fallen asleep.

He just hadn’t expected to wake up alone.

Sure, you’d tried to leave the night before. Tried to go stay with your friend, to give him space. We need space, I think. But he’d talked you into staying, insisting it was your home, too, and that you were being ridiculous. He’d hoped in the morning things would be okay, that clearer heads would prevail. Or that it would all turn out to be some horrible dream. Now the sheets are cold and the bed is empty, and your tears stain the pillowcase.

Your stuff is still there, at least most of it, which is a mild comfort. He sees your clothes in the closet, your slippers near the door where he always trips over them, your jewelry box on the dresser. He wonders if the wine cork is still in the drawer. God, he hopes it is. But you’re gone. Your phone charger, always left plugged in on the nightstand, is missing. Your favorite jacket, the one that hangs on the back of the bedroom door, is gone. The sheets are cold. The bed is empty.

He’s not sure what went wrong. Not sure how to fix this, or if he even can. He just knows it feels like he’s being torn apart at the seams. He stares at the wall and thinks. He thinks of you on the balcony, your head on his shoulder. The two of you on the streets of Monaco, plastic cups full of strawberry wine. He thinks of winning a race and you, leaning over the barricade to hug him, the smell of your perfume washing over him like a blanket. He thinks of the tray of corks in his bedside drawer, of the little square box hidden behind them, a question and a promise rolled up into one piece of jewelry.

He thinks of all of this, and then he lays back down in bed and cries himself to sleep.

The sheets still smell like you. He wonders, distantly, how long it will take for that to fade.

…..

You sit on your friend Audrey’s couch with a massive headache and a shake in your hands that won’t go away. You try to convince yourself it’s the caffeine- the espresso from the cafe on the way here, the cup of coffee you’ve had since you showed up. It’s not the regret, the awful feeling you’ve made a mistake that’s making you shaky. It’s the coffee.

Audrey is moving around in the kitchen. She hasn’t said a word since you sat down and admitted it.

I asked him for a break, you’d said.

She’d poured a cup of coffee and set it down in front of you. You drank it black, thinking of how Max always knows how you take your coffee and always makes it perfectly. Then she disappeared into the kitchen. You know she’s not happy with you. She’s the only one you’ve confided in about this- all your other friends were Max’s friends first, but Audrey is yours. You’ve taken absolutely none of her advice, which is what got you to this point.

“What did you tell him?” She finally asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Does it matter?”

“Did you lie?” She asks.

She must take your silence for the answer that it is- yes. She comes back into the living room and leans against the back of the armchair, staring at you. You bury your face in your hands.

“I told him I needed space,” you say. “That… I was feeling uncertain about us and I needed to be on my own for a bit.”

She sighs heavily. “So you lied.”

“I’m trying to protect him,” you mutter.

“Right. By breaking his heart.” She retorts.

“Audrey,” you snap, curling further in on yourself. “Please.”

She sighs again. She does that, when she’s not sure what else to say. You don’t think there’s anything she could say to make it better. Instead, she walks over to the couch and sits down next to you. You lean into her shoulder and let the sobs take over.

…..

Two weeks go by before you see Max again. It’s easy to avoid him. He’s always gone anyways. You’re strategic about going and getting stuff from your shared apartment. You know his schedule, know when he’ll be in town. His calendar is still shared with you, the one his assistant keeps updated with his every move.

Which is why, when you’re standing in your bedroom packing up more clothes and you hear the front door open, you know he’s caught on. He must know you’ve been using the calendar. The one that says he’s in Milton Keynes for two more days. It's either that, or someone’s broken in. You hear him stumble over your shoes and curse under his breath and you know his voice. It makes you feel sick to your stomach.

You step into the living room and come face to face with him. He’s standing across the room, smiling softly at you. There’s a paper bag in his hand from his favorite Italian place. In his other hand is a bag that you just know holds a bottle of strawberry wine. The sight of it is like a sharp stab to your rib cage.

“Hi,”’he says, softly. “Dinner?”

You blink at him, wide eyed. “How’d you know I was here?”

He gestures at the door. “We have the security camera doorbell, remember?”

And yeah, of course. He gets notifications every time there’s movement at the front door. He’ll use it to say hello to you when he’s miles upon miles away and you’re just getting home from work. Of course he’d still be getting the notifications.

“You’re supposed to be at the factory,” you say.

He shrugs. “Plans changed. I’m here. Dinner?”

There’s this hopeful look in his eyes that is absolutely tearing you apart. He’s not smiling, not frowning, completely neutral. He’s trying so hard to be unreadable, but you know him too well.

The truth is that you do want to have dinner with him. You want nothing more than to sit down at the kitchen island in your usual spots. You want to feel his knee bump against yours while you eat pasta and fight over the last piece of garlic bread. You want to drink that stupid strawberry wine until you’re drunk and fall into bed with him and pretend like nothing ever happened. Like nothing is wrong. Like you never asked for a break. And you know you could- you could say it right here and he’d act like nothing had changed.

“I’m just here to grab some stuff,” you tell him, letting your hands hang at your sides. “I’m staying at Audrey’s.”

He tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. You see it anyways, the way you always see him. After nearly a year and a half together, you can’t help it. You turn around, back towards the bedroom, back to your stuff stacked neatly on the unmade bed. You pack it into your duffel bag and head for the door.

“Are you coming to Monaco?” He asks when you place your hand on the doorknob.

For a moment you’re confused, because you’re in Monaco, but then you realize he means the Grand Prix. It’s less than a week away. As his girlfriend, you’re expected to make an appearance. You turn towards him and lean your back against the door.

“Space, Max,” you remind him, hating that you have to break his heart all over again.

He’s sitting at the island, on his usual stool, far too much garlic bread in front of him. He nods solemnly.

“Right. But if you don’t come, people will wonder what’s going on,” he says. “Our friends, the press, the-“ he waves his hands around wildly. “People.”

“You haven’t told them?”

“The press?”

“No. Our friends,” you say.

He shrugs, shoves his food around on his plate. He looks small. You hate it. You hate that it’s your fault. Your hands start to shake again.

“No,” he admits. “You said… a break, space. I didn’t know…” he huffs. “I didn’t want to tell them unless it was permanent.”

He looks up at you, then, and scrubs at his jaw. There’s stubble there, and there are bags under his eyes. God, you hate yourself for it. You hate the way he doesn’t hate you, the way you can still see the love in his eyes. You hate the worry in his gaze, like he thinks you might end things right then and there.

“Max, I don’t-“ your chest feels tight. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he says. “That’s okay, schat. But if you don’t go to the race…”

You sigh, haul your duffel bag over your shoulder. “I’ll be there.”

You leave the apartment before he can say anything else.

…..

Audrey takes your phone from you one night, while you’re crying on her couch after watching a very bad romantic comedy. She deletes every social media app off your phone. It’s nice of her to try. You attempt to go along with it at first. But soon you’re using the browser to check what they’re saying about you on twitter, to read the Instagram comments about how your boyfriend could do better. You’re over analyzing gossip accounts, trying to see if they can tell that you and Max are taking a break.

Two days in, you redownload all the apps. If you’re going to look at it, you might as well make it easier.

…..

“Have you told them?” Max asks you.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him in the Red Bull hospitality. Your friends are huddled in the corner, raiding the snack bar. You turn and look up at him. He’s not looking back at you.

“D’you think I’d be here if I had?” You ask dryly.

He shrugs.

You turn and look back at your friends. “Have you told anyone?”

He gives you a short nod. “Daniel. He… is perceptive. I didn’t want to lie to him.”

Frankly, Max has every right to tell whoever he wants. You can’t expect him to stay quiet about it forever, no matter how well he seems to be handling it. And it’s been nearly three weeks now. Eventually, you’re going to have to admit it to your friends. It’s a bit unfair, really, that you haven’t told them. Max should be getting their sympathy. But when you think about admitting it to your friends, the ones who say you and Max are destined to be together, you feel sick to your stomach.

What’s even more unfair is that you haven’t given him a firm answer, either. You’re just keeping him there, keeping him hanging on. You need to make a decision, and soon. Just not before the race.

“I’ll figure it all out,” you promise. “And I can go if you don’t want me here-“

“I always want you here,” Max says, and your heart clenches in your chest.

You’re lucky Max isn’t big on PDA. You’ll be able to make it through the weekend without drawing much suspicion. But you find yourself missing the weight of his hand on the small of your back as you walk through the paddock. There are gaps between your fingers where his are supposed to fit. You feel it now more than ever.

…..

Daniel corners you on Saturday afternoon. Really, you should’ve seen this coming a long time ago. In the time you’ve been dating Max you’ve gotten to know the other drivers, and Daniel’s one you know quite well. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into Max’s driver room, which is an overwhelming place for you to be. You can remember other races, when Max was the one pulling you in here for a quick makeout or just to spend time alone. Now, you’re being dragged into an interrogation.

“What the fuck?” Daniel asks, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Wanna be more specific?” You reply.

“You know what I’m asking,” he says. “Come on.”

“I really don’t, Daniel. What do you want to know? Are you asking why I’m here? Why I asked for a break?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Frankly, it’s none of your business-“

“It is my business, because he’s my friend and so are you. He told me why, I think it’s a load of bullshit,” he says.

The problem is… he’s not wrong.

“I think I’d know why,” you hiss.

“I see the way you look at him, it hasn’t changed.” Daniel has his arms crossed over his chest. “So what’s the real reason?”

“I’m feeling unsure about things. I needed space,” you insist.

Daniel is still blocking the door, arms crossed. He tilts his head at you, appraising. One of his dark brows twitches.

“You’re not sure about what? Your feelings for him?” He asks.

Your heart shatters in your chest. “Danny, stop, it’s not that easy-“

“No, come on. Things changed, yeah? Say it. You don’t love him anymore.” Daniel has fire in his eyes now. “Or if that’s not it, then tell me what it is.”

You stare at him, a bit dumbfounded. The truth is, you can’t say it. How could you not love Max? Just the thought of that feeling going away has you feeling awful all over again. You’re saved by a knock on the door.

“You’re in my driver room, you know,” Max calls out, and both you and Daniel deflate. “I shouldn’t even be asking, but can I come in?”

Daniel glares at you one last time and then opens the door. Max leans in, and his brows furrow when he catches sight of the two of you. You know you’re on the verge of tears. Max turns to Daniel, eyes wide.

“I told you not to do this,” Max scolds.

“We’re just talking,” Danny answers.

“She’s going to cry,” Max points out, sounding exasperated.

You roll your eyes and squeeze between the two of them. You head for the bathroom to clean yourself up. Behind you, the two of them are bickering in harsh whispers.

…..

You end up on the rooftop patio of the hotel you’re partying at after the Grand Prix. Max and your friends are somewhere downstairs. They’re drinking. You have been too- someone ordered shots for the table, then rounds of drinks. But what did you in was the strawberry wine your friends ordered specially for you and Max. You hadn’t been able to handle it anymore. At the first opportunity, you disappeared.

There aren’t any other people up here. It’s late, and if people are still up, they’re drinking and partying. So when the door swings open and you hear footfalls, you know who it is without even having to look. Max sits down next to you on the couch. You have your arms wrapped around your calves, face pressed into your knees. He doesn’t reach out to touch you. You’ve lost that privilege, it seems.

“Hi,” he says, softly. “You disappeared.”

You huff. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “But I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t come find you.”

You fight back the sob that threatens to wrench its way out of your throat. It turns into something halfway between a whimper and a groan. Max makes a sympathetic noise. You hate it. He should hate you. You turn your head towards him, eyeing his face through the blur of your tears.

“Well, I’m okay. You can go. Tell them I went to bed early or something,” you say.

Max stared at you. “You are obviously not okay.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your problem right now,” you tell him. “So.”

“You’ve never been a problem, schat,” he says.

He says it like it’s so easy. Like it doesn’t make you feel physically ill. Like the way he calls you those affectionate names doesn’t make your skin burn. You press a hand over your mouth to cover the choked sob.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he says, softly. “You can talk to me.”

You can’t tell him. You broke the heart of the man you love. You lied to his face because you thought it would make it easier. And now you carry the guilt of it in every part of your body. It’s settled into the empty space behind your ribs. You stare at him from afar and wish you could hold his hand again. You taste strawberries and feel like throwing up. That first kiss in your apartment. The first bottle of strawberry wine you shared. The corks in his nightstand drawer.

“I can’t drink the wine anymore,” you tell him, and he frowns sympathetically. “The taste of it makes me feel sick.”

Max seems unsure of what to say. He reaches out, then, and places his hand on your knee. You flinch at the feeling. His thumb brushes against your skin, warm and soothing and terrifying. You don’t deserve it.

“And I know how unfair this is, because I’m the one who asked for this,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m the one who didn’t tell anyone and ended up here. I shouldn’t be the one who’s so upset about this.”

Max squeezes your knee. “You seem… heavy. Like there’s something weighing you down. I don’t hate you, you know. I don’t blame you. You need a break, okay. But you don’t have to shut me out completely.”

“Fuck, Max,” you choke out.

The sobs come easily now. They wrack your shoulders and steal the air from your lungs. You bury your face in your hands. He pulls you into his chest and tucks his head atop yours. It’s like that night on the balcony all that time ago, when he let you fall asleep against him and had you stay the night.

How does he not see it? Does he really think you want this? Maybe he’s fallen out of love with you. Maybe that’s why it’s easy for him to believe it. You think the ache in your chest will never go away. You gasp for air and breathe in his cologne and feel yourself tearing apart at the seams.

You cry harder when he presses his lips to your forehead and murmurs, “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

You push at his shoulder halfheartedly. “Don’t. Please don’t. I don’t deserve this.”

“What, schat?” He says, lips still pressed to your skin. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You still deserve love. Sweetheart, if you don’t want to be together anymore, if you don’t feel the same-“

“I do!” You gasp out, borderline hyperventilating. “I do, I still love you, Max, of course I-“

You break off into a sob, and he rocks you back and forth. His fingers press into your skin as he holds onto you tightly.

“I know,” he says, and the guilt rises in your chest. “I know you do. So how about you tell me what’s going on?”

You rear your head back to look him in the eye. He’s watching you, a calm, knowing look on his face. And really, you should’ve known. Max knows you better than anyone in the world. Of course he knows when you’re lying. He presses a hand to the side of your face, and you can’t help but melt into the touch. God, you’ve missed him so much.

“Max,” you try, rubbing your thumb on your own knee. “I don’t-“

“You can tell me,” he says, so gently, like you’re made of glass. “Please. You can tell me.”

You can feel him all around you. For the first time in weeks you feel safe.

“Just talk to me, please-“ he says, voice cracking. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You hate yourself for it. You wonder how many times you’ll have to break his heart.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you say. “I really am, Max.”

You pull yourself out of his arms. You stand up and lean over him to press a kiss to his forehead. Then you walk away.

…..

You’re exhausted, constantly. Long weeks at work that consist of even longer days have you dragging your feet every time you come home. It’s a struggle to even make food for yourself, or do anything. Audrey’s generous enough to let you stay with her, even more generous as she does her best to take care of you. You’re falling apart. Anyone can see it. Your friends are catching on. They’re asking questions and whispering to each other about calling Max when they don’t think you can hear.

At night, when you close your eyes, all you see is him.

…..

Really, it’s your own stupid fault, you think. You’re in Monaco. Max lives here. It’s a small country. And Max’s friends live here too. So when you end up crying in the bathroom of a club, of course it’s Charles’ girlfriend who finds you. Of course she recognizes you and brings you to Charles with a worried look on her face. Of course you’re too upset to do anything but go with her. You’re not even sure why you’re crying at this point- you’re not that drunk. You think you just miss him, really. You’d gone out to try to get your mind off it. It hadn’t worked.

Charles takes one look at you and calls Max. You can’t exactly tell him not to without raising a whole bunch of questions. Max answers, because that’s just your luck, and within a few minutes Charles tells you he’ll be there soon to pick you up. Because of course he will. Because no matter how many times you break his heart, he’ll still come to your rescue.

It’s been almost a month now, since you asked for a break. Honestly, at this point, you’re just wishing he’d break up with you. You deserve that. He must be on the verge of it by now.

When you see Max’s car pull up outside of the club, you make your way over with a wave to Charles and his girlfriend. You nearly have a heart attack when you open the door and it’s not Max in the driver’s seat. It’s Daniel.

“Hi,” he says. “Heard you needed a ride.”

You blink, even as you sit down in the passenger seat. “Charles called Max.”

Daniel nods. “Yup. I was with Max. This,” he says, gesturing around at your surroundings, “seemed like a bad idea. So. I’m picking you up.”

You nod. “I didn’t ask him to call Max, you know. Just couldn’t exactly tell him not to.”

Daniel nods. “I know.”

He doesn’t ask where to take you. He also doesn’t head for your shared apartment with Max, which is likely where he was before this. Instead, he heads for one of few fast food restaurants in Monaco. In the empty drive thru, he orders and then looks at you expectantly. You just ask for a side of fries and a drink. It’ll help sober you up, which you figure is his point.

He pulls into a nearly empty parking lot and turns to you.

“Tell me,” he says, urgently. “I can help you figure this out. It’s not too late. But you have to tell me.”

You pick at your french fries, staring out of the front windshield. Danny may be driving, but this is Max’s car. You’ve sat shotgun here so many times- on late afternoon drives, on impromptu road trips, on rides home from galas that you didn’t belong at. You can hear Max telling you to buckle your seatbelt and you can almost feel his hand on your knee. God, you miss him.

“It’s not his fault,” you tell Daniel.

“Well, he thinks it is,” he answers. “Probably because you won���t give him a full answer.”

You burst into tears again at that. He hands you a napkin. Then he reaches for your hand.

“This isn’t you,” he says. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you love him. I’ve never seen two people who fit each other better. So tell me, or tell someone, or fuck, tell him. I don’t want to see him lose the best person he’s ever had over… something he doesn’t even understand.”

It hits you, then, like a tidal wave. You can’t lose him, either. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. How had you gone from strawberry wine and him walking you home to this? How could you have ended up here?

“This isn’t what I want,” you say, through your sobs. “I want Max. I didn’t want-“

Daniel squeezes your hand. “I’ll take you to him if you promise me you’ll talk about it. If you promise you’ll tell him what’s going on.”

You stare at your reflection in the windshield and wonder if you even deserve that chance. You’re almost positive you don’t, and even more sure that Max would give it to you anyways.

…..

You stumble into the warm apartment and nearly trip over your own shoes. You wonder, absentmindedly, if he’s left them there on purpose. If it would make it worse to move them.

He calls out from the bedroom. “Daniel?”

Daniel is behind you, shutting the door. “Max. I…”

“Is she okay?” Max asks, before he steps out into the living room. His eyes lock with yours. “Oh.”

“Hi,” you say.

“I’m going to go, so you two can talk,” Daniel says, and Max’s face crumples. “But call me if you need anything, okay?”

Max nods. You nod. Then Daniel steps out and closes the door behind him. You’re alone with Max. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and step farther into the apartment as you kick your shoes off. There are dishes in the sink, a bottle of strawberry wine on the counter. Max sees you eyeing it.

“Wine?” He asks.

“No,” you say, hating the way his shoulders fall. “I, uh, I’m going to change, really quick. And then we should talk.”

He nods. You head for the bedroom. You have to walk past him on the way, and have to walk through his cologne. You want to reach out and touch him. You wonder, if you did, if he’d pretend nothing had ever happened. When you’ve changed into comfier clothes and see your tear streaked face in the mirror in the bedroom, you remind yourself how horribly unfair that would be.

You walk back out into the living room. Your hands are shaking, chest tight. Max is sitting in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. You sit down at the other end. The pain on his face makes your stomach ache. You pull your legs up onto the couch, curling in on yourself.

“First I want to apologize,” you say, softly. “I’ve been… really unfair.”

He shakes his head, ready to tell you it’s fine, but you cut him off.

“It’s not okay, Max,” you say. “This will be harder if you just forgive me at every wrong turn I’ve made.”

“We can figure it out, though,” he says, voice breaking on the last word. “We can, I know it, please don’t-“

He looks terrified, you realize. You don’t see him scared often. He’s small again, like he was that day sitting at the island. And suddenly you realize he thinks you’re here to break up with him. God, you feel sick.

“Max, honey,” you say. He keeps his eyes trained on the couch between the two of you. “I don’t want to break up. Not if you’ll still have me. But you deserve an explanation.”

You watch the tension drain from his face. Watch the weight melt away off his shoulders. He purses his lips, blows out a long breath. His eyes are glassy. You don’t see him cry often, and you hate that you’re the cause, even now. He crawls towards you on the couch and places his head in your lap. He takes your hand and drags it to his hair as he closes his eyes. You choke on a gasp at the feeling of his hand on yours.

“Please,” he says, quietly. “I’ve missed you. Please.”

So you sit on the couch in your shared apartment, and you run your fingers through his hair, and you tell him everything. You tell him about the burnout at work, about the insane schedule you’ve had, about them denying your time off to go to some of the races. You tell him about how much you miss him when he’s gone, how it makes your chest ache to wake up alone. You tell him about the hate you get online, the things people shout at you when you walk through the paddock. You tell him how exhausted you were, how you felt like you were failing him, how being at your worst made you feel like you were dragging him down. How you were afraid you would start being mean to him, how you wanted to get out before that happened. You tell him you thought space would make it better, but it only made it worse. Most of all, you tell him-

“None of it was you. It was me. I thought I was protecting you,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I thought it would be better like this.”

Max is quiet for a few moments after it all spills past your lips. You find yourself holding your breath. There’s a chance you’re too late, that there’s no coming back from this. Then you feel his hand against your jaw.

“I understand,” he says, voice raw and quiet. “And we can fix this. But I swear to god, if you ever pull some shit like that again I’ll-“

You burst into laughter before he finishes his threat, because what else can you do? You muffle the sound into your hands, even as Max keeps his hand on your jaw, even as he starts to laugh too. There’s nothing funny about it, really, but you can’t help it. Max sits up and presses himself against you, his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. It’s an awkward angle but it works. And then you’re gasping for air because you haven’t felt the weight of him in weeks, and he’s burying his face in your neck. You feel the tears land on your skin, and you’re not sure if they’re yours or his.

“You should quit your job,” he says, and you’re borderline hyperventilating now. “Take some time. Come with me. It’s not long now, and then it’ll be the break. The rest of it, we can figure out. Together.”

“You’re being too nice,” you tell him. “You should be mad at me. I’ve been-“

Max shushes you and pulls away. Panic claws at your chest at even the smallest loss of touch. He cups your face in his hands, though, and kisses your forehead.

“We have time to talk about all of it,” he says. “But what matters to me most is making sure you’re okay. The rest will come later. We can have the more difficult talks when we’re less tired and more stable.”

He kisses your temple. You nod and rub at your face. You lean over into him, forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, one more time.

“I am, too,” he says. “For not noticing before it got so bad.”

You feel lighter. The weight isn’t completely gone, but it’s been lifted a bit. Shared, maybe. When you open your eyes, Max drags you into his chest and lays down on the couch with you in his arms. You can finally breathe again. The air feels clean and sweet like strawberries.

Eventually he coaxes you to bed. A fresh wave of tears hits you when you’re brushing your teeth in the bathroom next to him. He just holds you close through it. It should feel strange to crawl into bed next to him, you think, but it just feels like coming home, the way it always has. You think back to the lonely moments when he was away and you laid here alone, and you wonder how you ever gave any nights with him up. But you’re here now, and so is he, so you roll to face him. You press your face to his chest and breathe him in.

…..

In the morning, you’re in the bathroom when you hear him wake up. You hear the panicked noise he makes, the shuffling as he scrambles out of bed. He’s at the bathroom door in seconds, tugging on the handle and opening it. His shoulders heave as he stares at you, your toothbrush in your mouth, eyes wide.

“I thought,” he chokes out, eyes even wider than yours. “I woke up and you were gone and I thought-“

You yank the toothbrush out of your mouth and spit into the sink. “Shit. I didn’t even think- sorry-“

He doesn’t say another word, or leave you the chance to. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you. It’s been ages since you’ve felt his lips on yours. You’re putty in his hands immediately.

He drags you back into the bedroom, and you trip over his feet. His hands fall to your hips to keep you steady. He walks backwards towards the bed until he runs into it, knees buckling. He hauls you into his lap. When your knees settle on either side of his legs, when you feel the warmth of him underneath you, you swear you could cry.

His hands shove frantically at the hem of your sleep shirt. Yours do the same with his. His skin is hot to the touch- he’s still sleep-warm and soft. When you pull away from his lips, his eyes are half lidded.

“Max?” You ask, pressing your fingers to his side.

“Please,” he says. “Need you.”

You press a line of soft kisses to his jaw. He shudders underneath you. His hands pull at your hips, pulling you closer. You draw one hand up his spine, taking the shirt with you. He pulls it over his head. Yours follows his to the floor quickly after that. His hands fall to your waist, thumbs pressing into your ribs. You want to tell him everything. Want to tell him how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, how you could never live without him. How it tore you apart to try.

“I need you more,” you whisper into his ear, hoping it’ll be enough.

When you fall apart underneath and around and into him, he wraps his hand with yours and does the same. I love you tumbles over your lips and melts into his, the lips that repeat the same words back to you. You swear you taste strawberries.

…..

Max wakes up two months later to cold sheets and an empty bed, but he doesn’t panic. He can hear the whir of the coffee maker, can hear you humming in the kitchen and talking to the cats. There’s a sense of calm somewhere deep in his chest, one that hasn’t been there for a while, even after you came back to him. It’s the humming, he realizes drowsily. You used to hum all the time. You’d gone quiet for a while, but it’s back now. You’re back now. Piece by piece.

He rolls over, opens the bedside drawer. There’s the tray of corks, his watch, loose change and batteries and a faded post it note with something scrawled on it in your handwriting. And in the back corner, under a loose piece of paper, there’s a little black box. Inside, there’s a ring.

You’re not ready yet. You’re still healing. So is he. But you’re humming in the kitchen, making coffee, and he knows someday you both will be. For now, that’s enough.

You pop your head in through the doorway just after he shuts the drawer. “I have coffee for you.”

“Can’t we have it in bed?” He asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You laugh. “We have things to do today, Max. If I get back in bed with you we’ll never get any of them done.”

Max laughs, raises his eyebrows as he stretches his arms above his head. “Sounds like a good day to me.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and disappear again.

When he eventually joins you in the living room, his coffee is sitting on the table. You’re curled up under a blanket. He sits down and pulls you into his chest, wraps his arms around your waist from behind. He reads your book over your shoulder and takes a deep breath.

Any day with you is a good day.

Read the next part, On The Horizon, here!

a/n: sorrrryyyyyy! but I did promise a happy ending told you they’d be okay! thanks for reading!! title from the song that was definitely in the back of my head when I wrote Always Walk Me Home, which is probably how they ended up loving strawberry wine 🍓 & the song is sad so the angst had to happen. pls come talk to me ab this universe or any of my fics my ask box is open!!

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #max verstappen #mv33 #honeywrites #how did I write this so fast? insomnia #I proofread this maybe once #baby’s first angst #baby’s first anything but fluff really #what better Lewis bday present than max angst #just kiddinggggg #if ur still reading the tags send me a 🍓

[motelofmermaids]

i barely see gentle anakin skywalker… so… i am introducing it to y’all! rots anakin (lord have mercy) ❥ (+18)

anakin skywalker is unpredictable, in more ways than one—always leaving your breath caught in your chest.

he was rough in his voice, he had a strong sense of force. you knew that, he stood tall and confident… been through the darkest of days, the darkness of his life. he was cold because of that, never quite letting anyone in as much as he did with obi-wan. but you were different, and he knew that from the beginning. when you were sitting across from him in the jedi council, being only two years younger than him—the second youngest person to hold a position on the council—he knew you were different. you were soft in all ways. your voice, gentle. your eyes so sweet and smile just as warm when looking at everyone. including him.

you were the one that was there to arrest chancellor palpatine when anakin was at his lowest, fighting the dark side, slowly succumbing to the manipulation. you were there to give him a voice, allowing him to use it when the council fought so hard to refuse. he was head over heels, always around you. he smiled more, spoke up more—joked around, even. and eventually, he was not afraid of you being a little too close, was not afraid of your touch burning his skin—he was not afraid of receiving true love, because he was no longer afraid of losing you like he had lost his mother.

he stood tall and strong, but he was no longer cold and dark. anakin conveyed this in many ways, more specifically when you were beneath him. with a hand on your hip, his other, robotic arm, rested up against your head, his elbow digging into the pillow to hold himself up—too afraid to put too much weight on you, so afraid to break you like fine china.

he’d go slow, so excruciatingly slow. you’d beg out quiet sobs. ‘ani, please… ani, you can go faster,’ and how he loved your sings of utter submission. kissing up your neck, breathing so heavily into your ear. he’d leave you shaking, tears prickling your eyes because anakin was gentle, treating you like the most vulnerable thing as he shielded you with his body, fucking you with such fervor. wasn’t afraid to moan, show you just how much he craved your entire being. you were his religion, the way you whimpered and cried against the ghost of his lips—and god, he loved your lips. loved seeing his thumb trace it, loved seeing his fingers push in, pull out, push in until you were drooling around them.

anakin talks you through it so well, knows what to say to get you clenching around him, eyelashes fluttering as he stares into your pretty doe eyes. cannot help it, he argues, the way your whole body floats and blushes and glows when he calls you a ‘pretty girl,’ when he’s telling you ‘god… fuck—you take it so well, good girl.’ you were irresistible. he did it even when he’d be doing all the work, turning you into a sweet puddle of mess. he’d tell you how good you were doing. he craved the reaction. the praise he gave you, it made him feel powerful.

he’d mumble heavy i love you’s into your thighs, exploring every crevice, mapping out every single detail of a body he wants to engrave behind his eyelids. loved the way your fingers would twitch and pull his hair when his tongue would have you soaring and hiccuping out the most divine sounds. you were an angel, he’d conclude, every time his lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

he cannot get enough you, he never will, and he conveys it in multiple ways. anakin skywalker is gentle.

#kel’s concepts ♡︎ #anakin skywalker loves you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin imagine #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #i did not proofread this #but i love him so much

[solieverse]

"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.

your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.

how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.

the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.

he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.

it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.

more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.

#❂.txt #idk where to post this coz i dont wanna use main #but i really wanted to write it #him <3 <3 <3 #also i did not proofread this at all so sorry if it's too messy #dpr ian smut #christian yu smut #christian yu scenarios #dpr ian scenarios #christian yu x reader #dpr ian x reader

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

ATSV Fun Fact!! - Mumbattan Cultural Details

Gayatri & Inspector Singh follow the Sikh Religion

Have you ever heard of Punjabi Sikhs?

If you don't know - Sikhism is a religion that originates in northern India, specifically Punjab.

The turban Gayatri's father wears - along with his last name 'Singh' implies that her father is most likely a Punjabi Sikh.

I notice this the first time watching ATSV and was like 'wow that's so cool :)'

It only hit me today that 'Oh wait I don't think a lot of people know about this very-specific, rarely-mentioned religion maybe i should say something,'

And because I LOVE yelling about world culture, LET'S GO!!!

[a SHORT essay where I explain the basics of Sikhism, a religion built on equality and justice. And details in The Singhs design, and exactly why Sikh Representation matters]

So What's Sikhism about?

Often mistaken for Muslims - Sikhs are actually a non-Abrahamic religion, with 20 million followers worldwide.

But even with so many visible practicing members, most people know very very little about this beautiful religion!

Sikhs believe in equality and unity - and defending the oppressed. Their book of faith, The Guru Granth Sahib Ji, is called 'Guru' for a reason - Sikhs see the book as not just a code of conduct, but as a living, breathing teacher for every practicioner;

From Wikipedia on Guru Granth Sahib: Sikhs since then [1708] have accepted the Guru Granth Sahib, the sacred scripture, as their eternal-living guru, as the embodiment of the ten Sikh Gurus, the highest religious and spiritual guide for Sikhs. It plays a central role in guiding the Sikh's way of life.

The Guru Granth Sahib is the spiritual leader of Sikhism, and it's treated as such.

That's why in Gurdwaras - their place of worship - it's treated as such, being clothed and held in ornate structure, constantly fanned throughout it's readings (the fan you can see in the left picture).

They believe that by following the Guru Granth Sahib Ji, they can cultivate compassion, peace, and harmony in their communities, while diminishing 'Mara' - concepts like hatred or violence.

Sikhs believe that every Sikh should revere themselves as champions of unity. And because of this many Sikhs have the same last name -

Kaur for women (Meaning Princess) and Singh for men (Meaning Lion).

Having the same last name also does away with the Indian caste system, making it another point of equality.

In ATSV Gayatri last name is Singh. However from my understanding, her name would most likely be Gayatri Kaur in reality.

I think they kept her last name as Singh as a deliberate choice to keep her initials as GS, like Gwen Stacy.

So is Gayatri Sikh?

Maybe - most likely.

But we can't be sure. Mainly because of her hair.

Gayatri has a short bob haircut, and while that might not seem like it matters, it does!

In Sikhism there are the '5K's - different aspects Sikhs wear to show their faith.

Notice the first one?

'Kesh' is the practice of leaving ones hair completely uncut. That's why you may see a lot of Sikh men with long, long beards!

And hence, the large turbans.

It's done as respect for God's creation - leaving it unaltered.

[Fun Fact! - Rastafarians, a Jamaican religion, also don't cut their hair for this reason. Think Bob Marley. Rastas call God - Jah]

So, Gayatri having short hair means she doesn't keep Kesh.

However, Sikh is a super accepting and open religion, and it's main focus is on acceptance of difference, not conformity - so she could entirely follow the faith without doing all of any of the 5Ks.

Also, if you're curious about the steel sword K - Kirpan, yes that's a thing!

Sikhs of all genders are encouraged to carry a small ceremonial blade with them.

Instead it's a symbol of the commitment to fighting for what's right - and defending those who cannot defend themselves.

A Kirpan can ONLY be used to defend the life of yourself or others, which is incredibly rare.

Why is this all so rad, cool, and important?

If you haven't noticed by now, Sikhism is a religion driven by justice. Not just in theory, but in really life as well.

That's why you may see many Sikh police officers and politicians, even here in the West. Most of them wearing the emblem on their turbans.

In fact, Canada has SO MANY Sikh politicians, that in 2019 they elected 18 of them.

For centuries Sikhs have been dedicated to justice, and developing systems of support, whether that be political involvement or feeding those in need.

The biggest Gurdwara (a place of Sikh worship) The Golden Temple feeds over 100,000 people A DAY.

For FREE.

It's a practice called Langar. A communal meal anyone can enjoy. And of course, Langar food is vegetarian.

Making Inspector Singh a Sikh - and showing him saving people and being warm to his daughter on screen is great representation for a community so often overlooked! Despite the fact they are over 20 million practicing Sikhs.

It's a great detail for Indian and Punjabi representation in specific. It accurate shows their beliefs and commitment towards helping others, no matter the cost.

And from what we can tell, this choice came later in development. We know this because ALL of his concept art shows him with a turban, not keeping Kesh.

It seems like someone later on down the line said 'Wait if his name is Singh I think he's Sikh and if he's Sikh then we're gonna have to redesign him and make that obvious oops'.

That, dear audience, is why you always have an Anthropologist in the writing room. Or some amateur anthropologist like me :)

-------------

I hope you enjoyed reading this, I really enjoyed writing it!! Sikhism is one of my favorite religions and if you have never heard anything from the Guru Granth Sahib I HIGHLY recommend it, it's very optimistic and compassionate. Sikhnet(.)com is also a great resource!

I have no idea if this will pique anyone's interest, but I hardly ever see Sikhs reflected in media and I know many many people may confuse them with Muslim, especially since many women Sikhs keep kesh and cover their hair as well.

But if you ever wanted to know the difference, here it is! If you read this far, thank you SO MUCH. And if you're a Sikh and reading this, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

As usual, here's a photo of Hobie for your travels.

BYE.

#Did yall know about this? Idk know is any of this is common knowledge im gonna be real dugshjdgjks #It's a GREAT detail its so small but I love it #no proofread you get what i meant #and of course if you have any info to add or correct me on #feel free!! I wanna spread accurate info :) #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #atsv meta #atsv meta analysis #meta #meta analysis #spiderman india #spider man india #pavitr #atsv pavitr #gayatri singh

[elliesflower]

would you write something where ellie corrupts virgin reader and reader calls ellie daddy ?

corrupted [ellie williams]

pairing; ellie x f!reader

cw; female!reader, virgin!reader, cunnilingus (r!receiving) fingering (r!receiving), daddy kink, pet names, dirty talk

an; hi! tysm for the request sweetheart, i hope i did it justice! this is a little different than what i usually write, please let me know what you think :)

18+ only, mdni!!!

“you’ve really never done this before?” 

you were the quiet, shy girl in jackson—always helpful, always smiling, sticking to the simpler tasks like tending to the gardens, helping out in the school—so you’d watched ellie from a distance. you had wanted to get to know her, but she intimidated you. 

while she was fairly quiet as well, she was also smart and witty. she had this way about her, one you only fairly recently got to see. you tended to avoid patrols, seeing as your shooting skills weren't the best, but alas, when cold and flu season rippled through jackson, you were one of the only people left available to help out. imagine your surprise when you approached jesse for your assignment, only to find out you would be paired with none other than ellie williams. 

she smiled warmly at you, and you nearly lost your breath. you were both quiet at first, aside from a polite greeting, but that quickly changed as the two of you rode along to the lookout. she was funny and kind, curiously asking you questions and cracking jokes whenever she got the chance. when you arrived at the lookout, she helped you down from your horse, grabbing your hand and steadying you when you stumbled, smiling at you and playfully making a jab at your clumsiness. 

after climbing up to the top of the building and signing in, ellie opened up an old locker and pulled out what you knew to be a bong—though, you’d never smoked before.

“want some?” she’d asked, and you looked at her wide-eyed. you were embarrassed, admitting that you’d never smoked before, but you had been wanting to try. she assured you it was okay, that she could just put it away and you’d both forget about it, but you were determined. 

it took just one hit before you were coughing embarrassingly, and she was patting you on the back softly. you apologized, but she waved it off, telling you she’d done the same thing her first time. she was so good at making you feel better, you thought as your head began to cloud. you watched her pull the mouthpiece to her pink lips and oddly felt a rush of heat to your core, averting your eyes before she could catch you looking. 

the pair of you sat on the small loveseat in the room, and ellie gazed at you intently as you rambled an unnecessary amount of information for the simple question she had just asked you. when you finished, you looked over to find her still staring, and you quickly felt bashful under her watch. 

“what?” you’d asked her. 

“you’re just cute,” she admitted with that goofy, sideways grin. 

somehow, those three little words turned into a kiss, which turned into some more kisses, which turned into you having to admit to ellie that you were a…

“...virgin…” 

she brushed your hair out of your eyes, and tilted up your chin, smiling at you. 

“it’s okay baby,” she had said. “it’s getting late, we should head back anyways.”

you were shameful, hoping you hadn’t scared her away. but upon your arrival back into town, she was by your side in a heartbeat as you slid off your horse, and walked you home after you checked back in. that evening, it was nothing more than a quick kiss on the porch, but it was an unspoken promise of more time to be spent together. 

after that, she was finding excuses to see you nearly everyday. she had shown up for garden duty several times unannounced, took a few volunteer shifts in the school, even dropped by your house to bring you a copy of a movie you’d mentioned wanting to see. no matter where the two of you were together, she was always pulling you away to steal a kiss, or two, or too many to count. if you ever got called up for patrol, ellie always made sure she was your partner. you felt safe with her, you knew she’d keep you away from trouble, or take down anything that stood in your way. she drove you crazy, in a good way. 

after patrol one day, she asked you to come over to her place after dinner to ‘watch a movie.’ you agreed, though your heart was racing at the thought of what was to come. you may have been a virgin, but you were no fool—you knew ellie has been in relationships in the past, and you were nervous that she may find you too inexperienced for her liking.

so now, here you were, sitting on the edge of ellie’s bed as she helped you pull your shirt over your head. you were nervous, but you wanted this. you felt safe with ellie, in any context. it was like she had you wrapped around her finger without even trying. and that’s when she said,

“you’ve really never done this before?” she was towering over you as you sat, your legs slightly spread to allow her to stand closer to you. she was looking down at you with low eyes, full of desire and need, and you stared up at her through your lashes, heartbeat thrumming in your ears, the movie long forgotten in the background.

“no, i haven’t,” you said quietly, bringing your arms up to cover your chest, feeling vulnerable under her gaze. 

“it’s okay baby,” she smiled. “i’m gonna make it so good for you,” she grabbed your wrists to pull them away from your chest, and you shivered, nervous yet excited for what was to come. 

“you’re gonna feel so good,” she trailed a hand down your neck before squeezing gently at your breast and you gasped. “lay back for me.” 

you did as she said, scooting farther back on the bed and watching as she knelt down in front of you, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants to help you pull them off. you lifted up your hips as she grabbed your sweats and panties and in one fell swoop, pulled them off your body, leaving you completely naked on her bed. 

“are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked gently when she noticed your heavy breathing, rubbing a warm hand up and down your thigh. you were practically shaking with anticipation, you could feel her warm breath across your bare skin and you almost couldn’t believe it. after tonight, you’d no longer be a virgin—and who better to take it from you than ellie herself? the girl you’d watched from a distance, the one you’d never thought you’d have a chance in hell with. but she wanted you. and better yet, she wanted to make it so good for you. 

“yes ellie, i’m okay,” you breathed, before leaning your head back onto the pillow, unsure of what to do—just anticipating. waiting. feeling your pussy get wetter at just the sound of her voice, and the images that were running wild in your brain. 

“okay baby,” she said, using her hands to spread your legs apart, and heat was washing over you. “put your legs over my shoulders. i’m gonna eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for my fingers, okay? you just tell me if it’s too much.” 

you were practically drooling over her words, nodding and doing as instructed. her mouth was on you in an instant, kitten licking over your clit, causing you to cry out. 

“oh m’god-” you panted, thighs instinctively closing around her head from the new feeling, your stomach twisting in knots. 

“uh uh, keep ‘em open baby, you can do it,” she reprimanded, lightly pinching your thigh for emphasis, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud moan. you kept your eyes closed, the new sensation nearly overwhelming, but you felt ellie spread you open again with her thumbs, allowing her better access to your untouched pussy. sure, you’d touched yourself before, but it was nothing like this—ellie was an expert with her mouth, flattening her tongue against your sensitive bud before dragging it slowly up and down.

“you taste so good, sweetheart,” she praised, opting to stroke a finger teasingly near your hole, and you moaned, propping yourself up on an elbow to look down at ellie. her mouth was wet with your slick and you felt dizzy with pleasure. 

“do i make you feel good?” she asked, and you almost could’ve laughed if you weren’t so extremely turned on, watching her smug smile, and her arm moving slowly against you. you dropped your head back down when she dipped her finger shallowly into your hole before dragging it back out, beginning to slowly circle your clit once more. you moaned rather than answered, arching your back as she continued. “i asked you a question, baby, i expect an answer,” and it was borderline cruel, the way she punctuated it with a swipe of her tongue, all the way up until she sucked your clit into her mouth. 

“ellie!” you cried out, fisting your hands around her bedsheets, unsure of where to put them as she continued suckling. “it f-feels good,” you whined, not daring to look at her as you felt that familiar swell in the pit of your stomach.

“i know, i know,” and you could feel her smiling against you, the little shit, before giving you a break in favor of planting a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh. “have you ever used your fingers inside, baby?” you sat up slightly, nodding shyly as she gazed at you.

“of course you have,” her tone was derisive suddenly, as she prodded a finger at your hole. “should have known that whole naive image was just a front,” 

you shouldn’t have been more aroused by her words, but combined with the feeling of her finger gently pushing past that tight ring of muscle—easily, so easily—you could do nothing more than lay back and take it, letting her completely ruin you. “you were just hoping someone like me would take a pretty girl like you home and fuck you, huh? just how you need it,” she continued her filthy words, and her even filthier ministrations, the combination overwhelming your body, leaving you practically writhing on the bed, gasping and moaning at the intrusion. 

“that it, huh?” ellie asked as she dragged her finger out almost agonizingly slow, standing up so that she could get a better angle, and you had no time to be self-concious about the sounds spilling from your lips before she was slipping in two fingers without warning, and holy fuck, her fingers reached a hell of a lot deeper than your own. tears were welling in your eyes as you looked up at her, her face flushed as she defiled you, bottom lip held gently between her teeth as she focused on making you see stars.

“fuck baby, you sure you’ve never done this before?” she asked, curling her fingers just right against that spot that had gone untouched for so long. “taking my fingers so well i almost don’t believe you,” she smirked at you, downright evil, and you nearly came right then and there

“i s-swear ellie, it’s ju-st you,”

“yeah?” but no, she wasn’t done yet, adding another finger and the stroke of her free hand gently against your thigh a stark contrast to her words, “gonna have to stretch this little pussy out and get you ready to take my cock, then. would you like that, sweetheart? you wanna take daddy’s cock, huh?”

you choked on silent moans as tears painted your cheeks with wetness, hands grasping at anything they could reach, the blankets, your hair, your breasts, trying to find a piece of the world to hold onto as your orgasm built up from deep inside you. “let me in baby, just one more, c’mon, you can take it,” she encouraged, and you felt a third finger prodding at your hole. “tell daddy how badly you want to cum.”

it was downright sinful, ellie asking you to call her daddy, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the sentiment, panting heavily as you listened to the lewd sound of her fingers moving in and out of you—she was your protector, your light, your everything, your love. 

“i-fuck, el- daddy,” you caught yourself, choking on a sob as she fit her ring finger inside of you, stuffing you full, bringing you right up to the edge. “please, please, oh fuck, i lo-” you were babbling, body practically being jostled about the bed from the strength and speed at which she was taking you apart, no way you were going to last much longer, not when she was looking at you like that—

“i know, baby, come on, let go for me,” ellie commanded, accentuating her words with a curl of her fingers inside of you, and you were overcome with your orgasm, something akin to a moan, or a scream, a stream of barely-conscious thoughts escaping you as an absolutely euphoric feeling washed over your body—your legs stiffened, toes curling as you felt ellie working you through it, your slick soaking through the bedsheets beneath you. 

it could have been seconds, or minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure, all you know was that you felt an indescribable emptiness as ellie pulled her fingers out of you, whimpering at the loss of contact. 

“hey, hey, shh,” she was pacifying you, beside you in an instant as you lay absolutely spent on her bed. she rubbed her thumb gently under your cheek, wiping away a few stray tears before she pulled you up into her lap, stroking your hair. 

“you did so good for me, so so good, my best girl,” she crooned as you curled into her, feeling her free hand rub softly at your back, making you shiver. “let me get you cleaned up, baby, and we’ll go to sleep, okay?” 

“can i have a minute…please?” you asked quietly, looking up at her through wet lashes. she smiled softly down at you, brushing your hair away from your face. 

“you can have as long as you need.”

#it's 2am i did not proofread this so if you see a grammatical error no you dont #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie tlou #tlou pt 2

[infriga]

Another thing from the One Piece live action that I have a lot of thoughts about is a certain change they made that normally I might have disliked but actually felt they did rather well.

That being, Luffy listening to crew members backstories.

In the manga Luffy often goes out of his way to avoid listening to crew member's backstories when they're told by other people, because he doesn't like hearing about his crew from other characters and also because he's of the opinion that he doesn't give a shit about their past because doesn't change how he feels about them. All he needs to know is "this person hurt my friend/made my friend cry/has ill will towards my friend". He trusts implicitly that if his friend has a problem with someone then it's with good reason, he doesn't need to know the particulars. He'll listen to the crew member themself if they're the one talking about it, but if someone else is doing the telling he often leaves or falls asleep, with a few exceptions (like Brook's backstory, because hearing Brook's backstory is important for realizing who Brook is, which crew he came from, and his relation to Laboon. I think the fact that the one telling him is another crew member also helps here). This was a trait I liked about him, the way he places importance on hearing about this stuff directly from the person and wants to know what they want and how they feel out of their own mouth. It was a cool, subtle trait that adds some depth to him. It also gives this sense of respect to the privacy of someone who doesn't get to tell their own story, maybe not intentionally on Luffy's part, who doesn't really have a strong concept of privacy tbh, but as a vibe you know? Obviously it's a good way to provide exposition especially if the character isn't the type to tell their own story, but there's still an invasion of privacy on some level even if it's arguably justified.

Nami's backstory is one such instance like this. He refuses to listen about Nami from Nojiko (literally says "no thanks I'm not interested in her past" and leaves). He doesn't need to know about Nami's past to want to help her and he wants to hear that she needs help directly from her.

In the live action however, he listens to Nojiko this time, when she tells Nami's story. And I get why, the way the story is arranged doesn't give as much room for Luffy to wander off and witness Nami's confrontation with the villagers separately, and that aspect of his character would probably be difficult to get across without making him seem like a dick in live action to newcomers, hell it doesn't always get across in the manga/anime either, since I've seen plenty of people complain about him doing it and saying it's a dick move. But! They added a line in the live action that I think managed to get across the same feeling about his character quite well in a succinct way. It was when he says "I'm tired of hearing about Nami from other people".

It brings to mind what he says to Robin in Enies Lobby. "I want to hear it from your own mouth!" he wants to hear about his friends and how they feel directly from them, not second hand from other people. And he wants to hear the truth because he knows when his friends are lying about how they feel. He doesn't care how well those other people know the crew member in question, he cares about learning about them directly from them. And later when they do the scene™ with Nami, it doesn't ring false when she says "you don't know anything about what's going on here" and he replies with "I don't" because to him since he didn't hear it from her directly he doesn't really know what's going on. He just knows that she's in pain and needs him but he wants to hear it from her, that she needs help. It isn't as subtle and doesn't have as many layers of interpretation that the original portrayal of this character trait is able to be, but that's just the nature of an adaptation like this, they have to be smart about what subtleties they keep and what they have to be more obvious/blunt about. There are actually a few areas where the live action are more subtle, like the way they take out a lot of exposition but still manage to explain a lot of stuff about their world through show rather than tell. The dialogue about devil fruits for example, they never outright say that devil fruit users have their power drained when they're submerged in water, but they do have scenes showing the effects and people referencing that aspect of fruits in ways that feel more natural to people who live in the world and aren't giving obligatory exposition. Other people have mentioned this but the live action is surprisingly good with show don't tell, and use it in all the right ways.

I get the feeling that some of the small adjustments they made to the script and exposition and stuff like Luffy's behaviour still feel right and in-character/canon compliant (not literally canon-compliant but in spirit if you know what I mean) to me because they feel like they get across some of the more subtle aspects of his character that a lot of people miss. Like it bugs me when people say the live action made Luffy "smarter" which I'm probably gonna make a whole separate post about. For now I'll just say, Luffy isn't anywhere near as stupid as a lot of people think he is.

Or when people think him not wanting to eat when he's worried about Zoro is out of character, when we've seen in the original series that Luffy actually *does* have a harder time eating or thinking about food when he's stressed out about his friends. In the original series it does generally take a bit more stress to get him to that point, but like I said I think they adjusted it to make this point more clear in live action, that Luffy's love of his friends and crew overshadow his love for food. And it also gives them a small moment to showcase more of Sanji's caring nature when it comes to food when he responds by trying to feed Luffy and convince him to eat, which is a great moment to add especially since they were limited with Sanji's characterisation due to him joining the latest in the season, they managed to pack in so much characterisation for him into a relatively short window and I was impressed by that. And I have some examples regarding Luffy abstaining from food for the sake of others or being more reluctant to eat when stressed, but I think I'll leave that for a separate post as well.

They had less time to develop the crew relationships so they made sure to emphasize their bonds within the scenes they did have, putting more weight on Luffy's worry for Zoro, having Luffy be a bit more outwardly attentive to the interpersonal dynamics of the crew, being a little bit more obvious about Luffy's emotional intelligence, etc. None of these things feel like they actually change anything about Luffy's core character, they just showcase aspects of his character that already exist and are just more subtle in the original, because it's a long running series and can afford to take more time to establish these character traits. Luffy might not have shown as much outward anxiety over Zoro's injury in the manga, but that's because Oda had more time to build up the relationship before that point, so the live action took advantage of the injury subplot to be more overt about how Luffy feels about Zoro, as well as how his one point of anxiety that really gets to him consistently is the safety of his crew and him feeling helpless when he can't do anything because the problem isn't something he can punch away. So in altering that scenario a bit they can still keep that sense of a deep bond between the two despite having less time to show them growing close in smaller moments like the manga does. They probably realised that having Luffy leave or fall asleep during Nami's backstory wouldn't come across as well in the live action or fit the narrative structure changes, but they still took a moment to add a line that acknowledged that part of Luffy's character.

Like part of why most of the changes they did make didn't bother me is because of that feeling that no matter what they changed they were still dedicated to being as true to the characters as possible in the most fundamental ways. I'd certainly much rather have the live action place emphasis on Luffy's emotional intelligence and empathy and care for his crew instead of putting emphasis on him being stupid and comedic and sacrificing some of his empathy and emotional intelligence in the process. Do I love when Luffy is a hilarious dumbass? Absolutely, but that isn't the most important part of his character, so I'm glad they did the opposite of flanderize him, and they still did keep the funny dumbass part of him intact they just didn't put more importance on it than they needed to.

Anyway, this got away from me, but I just wanted to make a post about this because I feel like it's a good example of how the show makes most of the changes work because it still feels like they get the core of the show and the characters. Which makes sense if Oda was so anal about it and had them change scenes or lines if they didn't feel right for the characters. Oda of all people would know what is or isn't in character for them, so I can feel the way these subtle changes still feel right despite the differences.

#One piece #one piece live action #Opla #OPLA spoilers #Long post #Okay I didn't mean for this post to be anywhere near this long #but I still have so many thoughts and emotions about the live action and the series and Luffy in general #I gave up on proofreading this post cause I typed it in the bathroom lol so sorry for any typos #This was supposed to be my thoughts about literally one line of dialogue how did this happen #Sp

[asexual-juliet]

new season 2 bingo card just dropped

#i just got my wisdom teeth out and then did not proofread this so fuck it #the most self-indulgent squares on this are #carmy has a public breakdown #flashback starring a stuttering baby carmy #syd&carmy platonic soulmates #and of course #richie referring to carmy as ‘chicken carmesan’ #hes done it before i know it #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #richie jerimovich #sydney adamu #the bear s2 #the bear season 2 #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sugar berzatto #mikey berzatto #fak the bear

[spiderism]

Miguel’s conducting a census on the spider-verse when he lands himself on 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇-𝟐𝟏𝟑𝟕 – has no prior information since this is his initial visit, but on first glance recognizes that this is Nueva York; that usually means that the local superhero is Miguel O’Hara, or at least another variant of him. Only he finds out that here, it’s actually someone named Web-Shot, a souped-up version of his own late wife.

"Cariño." It was easier to say before – when everything was right, when his entire world hadn't collapsed in on itself. Now, the word feels strange. His brain reacts as if no time's passed at all; it takes effort for his mouth to form around each of the vowels and the consonants, though – like a rusted cog forced into service after being made stiff from years of disuse. 

And while you may walk and talk like her, you’re not. He tells himself not to be fooled by the way your face lights up when you see him, by the way your laughter fills the space between the two of you, and by the way you still tell jokes at his expense. 

But then you take the few steps necessary to close the distance to get to him, wrap your arms around his frame like he’s just come home after a long day of being out. It’s all too familiar – your body folding into his, how well the pieces fit together, the softness that he remembers so well; it’s every single inch of his wife that had been catalogued and filed away in the back of his mind for safekeeping – dust-ridden archives that he’d never thought he’d dig up again. You’re a memory in the flesh. 

“Web-Shot, because—”

“You shoot webs. That’s cute,” he says in a dry tone. 

“Alright, then. Let’s hear yours. You got something better?”

“Spider-man. It’s simple. Clean. Rolls off the tongue.”

“Wow, original. Was ‘Daddy Long Legs’ already taken?”

“Oh, you’ve got jokes. I see your sense of humor is consistent.”

“It’s why you fell for me, isn’t it?”

“Among other things,” he murmurs. “Pain in my ass—”

He asks where your Miguel is, needs to know if the two of you are together, but finds out that he died three months ago – fell from a clocktower during a bad fight he wasn’t supposed to be at, snapped his neck clean in half from the tension when you tried to catch him with your webbing and he ricocheted back up from the concrete like a damn bungee cord. The ring was in his pocket; he was supposed to propose that night before everything went to shit. So your time ended with him fast, early. Before you even really got to start your lives together. 

And this other Miguel, the one who shows up in your universe alive (sure) and well (debatable), gives you some insight to his world. His wife was a romantic – an idealist, a dreamer. He’s always been pragmatic – a man of science, an engineer, doing everything within his realm of possibility to make her visions come true. It’s been a long time since he talked about his history and his family: how he proposed, where they had the wedding, his daughter – the way everything was good and perfect until it wasn’t. 

After spending the night with you on the Empire State Building, he realizes how much you’re like his wife. It hits him hard, brings up too many emotions to the surface that he’d been tamping down all these years.

Nothing about any of this is fair. And it’s sad, heartbreaking. Especially—

“I didn’t get to grow old with you.”

“We could’ve had a lifetime together and it still wouldn’t have been enough. You get that, right?”

You convince him to stay. Try to, at least. He can be your Miguel, and it would all be so easy. He can take his retired wedding ring off the chain around his neck and slip it on where it belongs. 

But it’s not possible. He tells you that much – what can happen, the repercussions that ripple out and affect the multiverse web. Because he’s already attempted that – wouldn’t have given up without trying to get you back.

A part of him wants you to say it one last time. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Instead, he gets:

“Every version of me loves every version of you. And even though I haven’t gotten to see it for myself, I know that there’s no universe where that isn’t true.”

Before he leaves, you ask if he thinks there’s any chance the two of you are allowed to be happy, allowed to live normal lives in all of the places he’s seen. 

He tells you that he has: breakfast on the balcony, slow Sunday mornings, and weekend fútbol tourneys with your daughter. This story ends on a good note, but he doesn’t mention that it only exists inside his head.

#i was a lil too lazy to write the full version #honestly i was too lazy to properly format this and put angst warning so you can yell at me if you want #no i did not proofread #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o hara x reader

[mornsri]

choso harbors an unintentional quirk that leaves you raising an eyebrow – and stifling a giggle.

initially, you dismissed it as a consequence of binge-watching one too many supernatural thrillers. eyes in the darkness of your bedroom, tracking your every move, especially as you drifted off to sleep. yet, upon closer inspection, you discerned that the eyes were unique—they belonged to choso.

you turn on the lamp on your bedside table, ready to chalk it up to your imagination, thinking there's no way choso would break into your room just to sit in the dark and watch you sleep. surprise and shock are written all over your face when the room illuminates, revealing choso with a constipated expression reminiscent of edward cullen's brooding look from the first twilight movie.

it's undeniably creepy, but there's an innocence about it that’s endearing.

choso, being only half human, hadn’t quite grasped the nuances of human behavior. his eyes were fixated on you, the intensity of his gaze prompting your nervous laughter.

"choso, what on earth are you doing?"

he blinks, as if snapped out of a trance, tilting his head inquisitively. "i was… watching. you sleeping. it's fascinating. where do you go? what happens in your dreams?"

suddenly, you find the situation utterly adorable. here's choso, part human, grappling with the mysteries of sleep. trying to suppress your laughter, you pat the empty space beside you. "come here, and i'll tell you all about dreams."

with a mixture of curiosity and innocence, choso joins you, sitting cross-legged on the bed. as you do your best to explain the dreams you’ve had and the scientific aspects of sleep in humans.

the constipated look on his face thankfully disappears.

#choso x reader #choso x you #choso kamo #choso #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk choso #choso is a weirdo #but we love him anyways #i did not proofread this #so you get what you get

[sprucewoodmpreg]

hi vaguely serious messy post about hermitblr and new members and just. letting everyone know that we’ve had history with cc interaction on here before that i think would be useful for people to learn about

Trafficblr/Hermitblr has seen a lot of growth lately, largely in part from people migrating over here from the DSMP side of MCYTblr. This in of itself is completely fine! New people jumping onto the bus with us are always welcome, and the growth of the community as a whole is really nice to see.

However, I have noticed a lot of these newer blogs sharing the same very specific behaviours, and if possible, I’d like to just make a few things about the community and our history clear. Because this isn’t DSMP, and the CCs here handle content creation and their own fanbases very differently to them.

While I’m not going to go in-depth on 2019 since I don’t have nearly as much information about it as other people do, I would like to say that back then, Hermitblr was kind of an active war zone. It was comparable to how Hermittwt is now, with infighting about shipping and similar topics being the norm (however in Hermitblr’s case many of these argument were far more personal due to the smaller fandom size). What I want to point out specifically however, is when one of the CCs, Cleo, was thrown into the community infighting. I don’t remember the specifics of it, but she was sent an ask asking about shipping, and her opinions on it, and eventually dealt with so much backlash that she was forced to leave the site entirely (this post here has a slightly more comprehensive summary, if need be).

I’m just a little concerned, because there seems to have been a slight increase in that demographic of people recently. Specifically, members of the community who want to rely on CCs to dictate what happens in fan spaces; for them to give us bullet point lists of what their exact boundaries are for every single situation.

This rarely ends well. As in, it almost always just causes infighting and hostility. There will always be people making content that will “break boundaries”, regardless of any creator’s wishes. However, this is usually mitigated by the fact that many of these CCs aren’t on Tumblr (at least not anymore....mostly). The problem arises when members of the community attempt to act as Heroes Of Justice, and go out of their way to send asks to other blogs, informing them exactly of how they’ve broken the boundaries of some 40 year old adult. This is all despite the fact that said adult will....never see whatever post went against their wishes. It just encourages policing and this weird superiority....thing, where despite the lack of content creators, people are still fighting to make sure that the site is clean from any possibly upsetting posts.

I say this all while also acknowledging that many of the creators in this sphere also don’t have a very comprehensive understanding of how fandom interacts with their “characters”. To them, “shipping” has always been RPF, and there are so many other aspects of the community that simply can’t be explained easily, as they haven’t been immersed in this culture like we have. This is to say that asking for “boundaries” is likely to get you a very confused and unhelpful answer, as the Hermits have always had a very different way of interacting and viewing their fanbase than the DSMP creators do. There is no “c!” or “cc!” to them, to put it simply.

Essentially, the Hermits are adults. They’ve been doing content creation for years, and I can guarantee you they’ve seen worse things in their lives than art of their Minecraft character kissing another Minecraft character. They’ve dealt with this shit before, and if they wanted it to stop, they’re free to make a post about it whenever want. And yet, they haven’t. They leave fandom up to us. Boundaries and rules and infighting and just...all of that? Let’s leave it to the Twitter users, please. Post what you want, make sure to tag your posts correctly, and we’ll all be fine. 

Also, while I’m going to try not to rehash any discourse about inviting CCs to Tumblr, I also do just want to implore you guys to consider that the environment on Hermittwt is partially the way it is because of the active presence of the Hermits there, with people flocking for attention or a single notice, and obsessively checking posts to make sure they’re not potentially “boundary-breaking” and such. Please just consider that many people are here to avoid the dynamics of that site. Tumblr is a site for fans, not for the CCs. So we create content here for ourselves, and not for them. Having creators join almost always leads to the culture of their fanbase on here changing, with content posted in the maintags being catered more towards them rather than the fanbase. (This isn’t to say that they can’t join!! But at least keeping in mind why many of us are here in the first place and weighing that against potential CC interactions would mean a lot).

I fear that my point may have been lost a little bit, but I hope my explanation at least brings a little bit of light to why many members of the community here are wary of Creators coming over to the site, and also of how many newer blogs tend to treat the CCs. Hermitblr has had some really bad history in the past when it comes to this stuff, and seeing newer fans bring over similar ideas from DSMPblr just worries me a little bit.

TL:DR - Just...please treat the Hermits like the adults they are, and keep in mind they have a very different dynamic with their fanbases to the DSMP creators. Asking for “boundaries” and granting CCs control of the fanbase will likely lead you nowhere; attempting to police fanspaces here just brings up bad memories of times when Hermitblr was a much more miserable place to be in. Plus, if you want CC interactions, please just go to twitter. Nobody here wants to deal with an attempted “cleanse” of the site to make it more palatable to CCs.

#i hope this is ok. again im not. trying to police or be a ''fandom mom'' or fucking. whatever #just giving my 2 cents on the subject. take it or leave it i don't care im not the boss of you and you dont have to listen to me #also gen if you see this and want me to remove your post just send me an ask and i'll take it out #discourse #if i said anything goofy or fucked up lmk because while i did try 2 proofread this im also not very concise nor clear #just gonna hit post. assuming this isn't gonna get more than like. 20 notes anyway so i likely wont have to worry abt ppl getting mad @ me

[artiststarme]

Steve is Afraid of Hospitals

Years of dealing with the Upside Down had taken a psychological toll on the entire Party. From nightmares to newly-developed phobias, no one escaped their yearly festivities unscathed. Steve was not an exception. Since his and Robin’s capture and subsequent torture by the Russians underneath Starcourt, he’d been terrified of drugs, needles, doctors, and everything else relating to the medical field. Any time he thought of having to go to the doctor, he could feel the torturer ripping his nails off with the plier. Whenever he tried to enter the ER, he felt the painful sting of the needle in his neck enough to make him dizzy. And imagining getting a shot? Well, that was enough to keep Steve away from even driving past the hospital out of fear alone. 

The closest he’d been to the white coats since the happenings underneath Starcourt was when he’d carried Eddie’s bleeding body into the ER for treatment. Even then, he hadn’t stuck around. He’d stayed just long enough to threaten the nursing staff to try their best and tell them that Eddie wasn’t a murderer. Steve waited until the doctors promised to do all that they could before he hurriedly made his way outside to escape the tightness in his chest. He waited briefly in the parking lot for Robin or Dustin or Nancy to follow him but he soon realized that they were much too busy dealing with Eddie and Max to worry about him. 

And so, he started the long trek back to his house. He knew deep down that he should’ve gotten his sides looked at, maybe even the abrasions on his neck. Irrationally though, Steve couldn’t stomach the thought of any doctors poking and prodding at him. Even thinking about being in the same room as a doctor with access to drugs and syringes caused his heart to palpitate. His reaction to everything made it worse. Why couldn’t he just get over his aversion to hospitals? Robin wasn’t afraid of supporting their injured friends around doctors. She had been stabbed in the neck with the same type of needle as he had and she had no problem being around needles now. And she could still drink the occasional beer, feel the relief of alcohol, without delving into a panic attack over loss of control. 

But Steve was weak. When he had a problem, instead of solving it, he avoided it. Even when his new friend and one of his kids was in the hospital fighting for their lives. And he hated himself for it. 

It took him a little over an hour to walk back to his house. The whole way there, the sides of his torso throbbed and his head ached. He could feel blood soaking through the dirty bandages and he could feel Eddie’s blood sticking to his skin too. He just wanted to take a shower and forget what they had all been through over Spring Break. 

He scrubbed his body clean in the warmest shower his wounds would tolerate. He was in there long after the water had run cold just trying to peel the stain of Eddie’s blood from his skin. When he was done, he tried to bandage his wounds and clean them with antiseptic but staring into the pulverized flesh reminded him too much of how his face looked after the Russian torture. So, he slapped on some gauze and fell into his bed to get some sleep plagued by nightmares. 

~*~*~*~

He called Dustin at the hospital to check on Max and Eddie late the next morning. “Hey Henderson, how’re they?”

“Um, they gave Eddie a blood transfusion and a couple of skin grafts last night. They said that he would be fine but the police kicked us out of his room and have him cuffed to the bed. He almost died trying to save Hawkins and they’re still treating him like a criminal! Max is in a coma, the doctors don’t know if she’s going to wake up or if she’ll be the same when she does.” He paused for a moment. “You’d know if you were here. Where are you? You just disappeared last night. Where’d you go?”

“Dustin, I’m sorry. I just, I just really needed some time to myself last night. I’m happy to hear they’re doing well. I’ll talk to you later,” Steve went to hang up the phone when he heard him speak again. 

“Hey, since you’re calling to annoy me, you might as well annoy me in person. Can you give me a ride home today?” Dustin asked in a desperate voice barely disguised with snark. 

Steve sighed, he couldn’t let the kid down after everything he’d been through. “Sure, man. I’ll be there in 20 minutes, okay?”

“Yep, thanks Steve! I’ll see you then.” And then he hung up and left the Harrington house in silence once more. 

Steve was a little nervous and his palms were already starting to sweat. He was just picking Dustin up from the parking lot, it was fine. He wasn’t going to get poked by needles or drugged with unknown hallucinogens. No, he probably wasn’t even going to see any doctors! All he had to do was get Dustin, drop him off at home, and go back to his own house to lick his wounds in peace. Easy peasy. 

He continued his inner pep talk all the way to the hospital and only stopped once he saw Dustin waiting at the ER doors. His stomach dropped as soon as his car turned into the lot and his vision blurred for a moment. Oh shit, he didn’t know if he could do this. 

“Henderson! Get in the car, I’m not going to wait all day!” Yeah, that’ll trick him. Steve couldn’t let anyone witness his weaknesses. It was his job to protect the group at all costs. If they knew he was afraid of such a trivial thing, they’d never trust him again. 

Dustin just shook his head and huffed as he climbed into the now-parked car. “Jesus Christ Steve, have some patience. It wouldn’t kill you. Speaking of, how are your bites? I saw some of Eddie’s after they cleaned him up this morning and they looked brutal, man.”

He reached for Steve’s waist but he slapped his hand away. “Um, no. Take me to dinner first before trying to get me to strip. Jesus Christ, Henderson. Don’t be a perv.”

Dustin pulled his hand back, affronted. “What the hell, Steve. You look all sweaty and I can see blood soaking through your bandages. Did you get them looked at by a doctor before you left yesterday?”

He reached for the hem of Steve’s shirt again and Steve grabbed his wrist. “I’m serious, Henderson. It’s fine. Let’s just go.”

Henderson yanked his arm out of Steve’s grasp and went to grab the hem for a third time. Unfortunately for Steve, he miscalculated slightly and poked his pointy fingers directly into his wound. A white-hot flash of pain shot through Steve and he released a half gasp/half yelp of pain. He felt the sluggish bleeding of the bites start anew with the blunt intrusion through the bandages. 

Steve screwed his eyes shut in pain and let his head drop against the steering wheel. His horn sounded but his eyes remained closed and his breaths left his lips in pants. Dustin shot back in his seat and fumbled with the door handle. “Oh my god, Steve! I’m so sorry! I’ll go get a nurse to help you!”

He didn’t receive an answer from Steve who was still keeled over in his seat, barely conscious and reliving the pain of the bats digging into his flesh. He must’ve lost consciousness because the next thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a moving gurney and lots of people in scrubs and white coats. He jerked in his spot and started mumbling meaningless pleads.

“No, no, no. Let me leave. Please, let us go. I work at Scoops, please. Scoops!”

The doctors paid him no mind even as his limbs started to flail. They spoke over his panicked shrieks and one approached him with a syringe filled with clear liquid. 

Steve wasn’t going to go down without a fight, unlike last time. Last time, he had to bide his time to protect Robin. But now? Now he was alone. He didn’t have to take the torture lying down this time. So, when the doctor was within reach past all of the nurses and restrictive grasps, Steve punched the white coated man in the face.

“Shit, he broke my nose!” You’re damn right I did, evil Russian. Logically, Steve knew that he was in the Hawkins hospital. But he couldn’t focus on logic over the sheer panic that he was experiencing. 

“Restrain him, give him the sedative!”

“No, please, no! Let me go!”

And then he felt a sharp poke in his arm and the world went black once more. 

~*~*~*~

When he woke up again, he saw a dark room. What happened? He let out a loud groan and moved his hand to scrub at his face.

“Easy Harrington. If you keep moving, you’re going to pull your stitches.”

“My what?” Steve paused all movement and tried to force his eyes to acclimate to the darkness. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. Dude, you went home instead of getting your sides looked at and they got infected. Nice going. They were worried about sepsis for a while there but they think you’re probably in the clear now. You’ve been getting IV antibiotics.”

When he heard about the IV, his attention was immediately pulled to the pain in his hand and he gasped as he pulled out the needle. It clattered to the ground with little fanfare but Steve could still feel it poking his skin. 

“Did you just pull out the IV? You need that, Harrington. What the fuck?”

The person turned on the light and suddenly the room was illuminated. Steve turned his head to the neighboring bed to lock eyes with an unimpressed and rumpled Eddie Munson. “Eddie?”

“Yes, Harrington. I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes and you didn’t recognize me? I’m offended.” 

Steve shook his head. He was in the hospital. Oh god, he had to get out of here. He tried to scooch out of bed but fell back in pain. 

“What’s going on, Harrington? You need to stay here. Lay back down, you’re safe. Steve, I see you trying to get up. You need to not do that.” Eddie tried to calm him down but it wasn’t working. 

After a few more failed attempts, Eddie pulled himself out of bed and stumbled to Steve’s. “Fuck man, I need you to stop moving. I’m pretty sure I pulled some stitches on my way over here and if we both need new stitches, the nurses will get the wrong idea. Hey, Steve! Talk to me.”

Steve’s vision was blurred with tears and he was pretty sure his heart was going to explode due to the pressure pressing down on his chest. “I can’t be here, man. I need to get out. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, and where the hell is Robin? Is she safe? Did the Russians get her? Where’s Dustin? I gave them his full name. Oh shit, what if they go after him now? Fuck, I have to go.”

Eddie pushed his arms onto the bed and leaned his face close to Steve’s. “Steve, are you afraid of hospitals?”

Steve had told him a little bit about their time with the Russians and he guesses that Eddie made the connection. “I just, I can’t be here Eddie. What if they come after me again? I can’t lose control like that again. The drugs? I can’t do it again, man.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Stevie, I’ll protect you. And as soon as you can be discharged without dropping dead in your escape, we can leave. Alright? Move over.” Eddie comforted him. 

“What-” Steve tried to ask but Eddie cut him off. 

“Look man, you’re afraid of hospitals and I’m afraid of being alone. Move over so we can share a bed and not be scared together. Okay?”

Steve looked at him. It really was harder to be afraid with Eddie practically on top of him. And they had been through a lot together. So, Steve nodded and made some room for Eddie. There was hardly enough room for the two of them but they managed. And when the panic started to ebb away and his eyes started to close, Steve swears he felt Eddie press a small kiss to his hairline. 

He was still afraid of hospitals, doctors, drugs, and needles. But from then on, Eddie was there to distract him and make everything just a little better. And eventually, the fear stopped being so horrific and became just a mild nuisance as long as he had Eddie by his side.

@nburkhardt @doubleb11 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @i-less-than-three-you @newtstabber @ghosttotheparty

The long awaited medical phobia fic @ghosttotheparty. I hope you like it!

#I can be distracted from my fears so I feel like Steve would be the same #Eddie has no idea what's happening but he's wanted to cuddle with Steve since sophomore year so he's not complaining #Not my best work but probably not my worst either #did not proofread so please be nice #stranger things #fanfic #steddie #steddie fic #Steve Harrington has powers #steve harrington #eddie munson #eleven hopper #max mayfield #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson

[osamusriceballs]

Kinktober Day 13 <3

Bokuto x edging

Warnings: NSFW, fem reader

Words: ~1,6 k

Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day

"You like that? Oh, I can feel you clench, you really like that."

A grin sports his lips as he dives into your pussy again, his tongue relentlessly licking along your folds and teasing your clit. His arms confidently grab your thighs and press you further down on his face, the sudden movement almost causing you to fall over as your hands nearly slip off the bed frame.

"Kou- slow down-" you whine, trying to sit up slightly, but his hands keep a firm grip on your legs and prevent you from moving away from his face. "Close already?" he rasps, attaching his lips on you again the second he finishes speaking. His tongue finds your entrance, ever so slightly pushing inside while his nose nudges your clit. The slurping sounds mix with his groans, your walls clenching every time he rubs against your clit a little harder. You know there is no stopping him once he has started eating you out- he could literally do it for hours, as he has proved to you in the past already. You feel the tension in your body, your high approaching way too fast under his thorough ministrations. He notices how you tense, his golden eyes observing you carefully when you clench repeatedly, and he slows his movements down, just enough for you to take a few steady breaths. "You taste so good, always so sweet for me."

Your hands clench around the wood, your body almost overwhelmed when he presses his tongue flatly on your core, it feels like a sweet torture to know that he won't make you cum just now, yet it still feels so good- but you can feel him slow down gradually until he's just sweetly kissing along your folds. His hand moves to your ass and squeezes the flesh before he slightly lifts you off him, his hot breath now only faintly meeting your clenching core.

You lift your body just enough for him to slide out from underneath you, and he wastes no time to turn your body towards him and to press his lips against yours. The salty taste of yourself meets your tongue, only spurring you on in kissing him even further and allowing him to explore your mouth. He groans, the kiss getting messier with every passing second, and his passion and lust are driving you crazy at this point. He slightly pulls back to look at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he leans down to kiss just below your ear. "You were close, right? I could feel it." The kisses turn into small bites, one of his hands now resting between your bare shoulder blades to hold you close. "Hmm, so close, Kou. Only you can make me feel so good." You grab his hair and let your head fall back while you enjoy the way he's kissing down to your chest, making sure to suck a small mark just belllow your collarbones. "I'll make you feel even better. Come here, baby."

Bokuto releases his grip around your body and grabs your hips to turn you around, which you willingly do. He presses your back against his bare front and keeps your legs spread with his hands, effectively exposing your cunt to the chilly air. You know exactly what he's planing to do, but you still find yourself arching your chest when he kneads your tits a few times, his thumbs brushing against your nipples ever so expertly, eliciting small moans from you, before his hands move down between your legs. His fingers quickly find your pussy, rubbing ever so softly along the folds and smearing the wetness along your folds. You gasp when two fingers slowly enter your hole, pumping at a steady and slow pace as he works them carefully into you. Your hips slightly buck into his hands, eager to have his palm rub against your clit and he immediately complies and presses his palm against you the second his fingers are buried knuckles deep inside of you. "That's it, baby, just take what you need," he proudly groans as he watches how his fingers disappear inside of your cunt, taking him so well.

He brings you close again with his steady pace, so deliciously close, yet still not enough. A needy whimper escapes your lips when he picks up his pace, his fingers curling gently inside of you to meet your sweet spot. He almost completely pulls his fingers out before he pushes them inside again, making sure you never feel empty when his fingers keep on fucking you. You feel the coil inside of you ready to snap, your body so, so ready to let go. Your head falls back against his shoulder, your mouth agape- but then he pulls them out for good this time.

"Not yet, baby." He brings his dirty hand up to your tit and squeezes it, smearing your arousal on your body. You're sensitive at this point, your pussy clenching repeatedly in need of more, in the need of your sweet release. "You're gonna cum on my cock tonight," he announces, his voice full of excitement as he has made his decision. "Please, Kou- fuck me then," you whine and wiggle your hips, and he kisses your shoulder one last time before he grabs your hips and presses your back down until your ass sticks out in the air.

You gasp for air when you feel the tip of his cock running along your slit, giving your clit, just enough friction to take your breath away whenever he rubs it a bit harder against you.

"Oh, baby, wanna put it in so bad, can I? Can I make you feel good?" He groans when he spreads your cheeks to look at your glistening cunt- almost like an invitation for him to keep going. "Do it, Kou, please put it in. Want your cock, need you so bad," your whole body is aching for him at this point, your pussy throbbing with need and making it impossible to think. A groan leaves his lips when he finally pushes his cock inside, slow and steady, but still determined and strong-willed. He always stretches you so well with his girth, the feeling so welcome and just what you need and you only manage to whine into the bed sheets as he keeps on filling you up. A groan leaves his lips when he bottoms out, and he stills for a few moments, his chest heaving heavily when he takes a few breaths. "Please, please, move-" you whine, feeling like you're going crazy with every second that he's making you wait any longer, and he finally does. His hips move hard against yours, moans leaving your lips at every particular deep thrust, but your body moves on autopilot, meeting each and every of his thrusts, which makes him dig his fingers deeper into your hips. You can't even speak at this point, your body getting closer to your high so fast after being edged for a few times already, yet you don't care, only encouraging him to move faster and deeper to get closer to your high.

His pace is punishing and fast at this point, the sound of skin clapping against skin filling the room, along with your moans and his groans. "Feels so good, feels so good-" you gasp, your body almost burning at this point, so close to stumbling over the edge.

"That's it, come with me, let go for me-" a desperation coats his voice that makes it impossible for you to stay sane any longer, and you find yourself cumming hard on his cock when he brings one hand to rub on your clit, giving you just enough pleasure to lose control. Your back arches further, allowing his cock to slide in even deeper while you moan his name, your walls clenching around him, making it almost impossible for him to move when your walls grip him like a vice.

"So good, baby, so good, keep cumming for me-" a groan gets stuck in his throat and he stops his movements when he's cumming too, your walls fluttering around him while he coats them white. He's calling your name, always so vocal when he's reaching his high, and fucks into you until he whines of overstimulation, but his hands never release their tight grip on your hips.

He slowly pulls out after a few moments, making sure to be soft and gentle, giving your ass a last squeeze before he lets himself fall to the bed dramatically. His hands make a grabby motion towards your body and you weakly comply and lay down on him with your head on his chest, basically feeling his strong and fast heartbeat under your hand. His arms wrap around you immediately, the warmth of his body so welcoming and cozy. "Was that okay?" he is quick to ask, while his arms soothingly rub your back.

"Always so good to me, Kou," you weakly whisper when manages to pull a blanket over the two of you, and he happily hums and presses a kiss to your head. "Wanna spoil you, baby. Wanna give you everything." He entangles his legs with yours, not leaving an inch of space between the two of you, yet still making sure you comfortably lay on top of him. "Get some rest, baby, I'll take care of you when you wake up." You tilt your head and look at him, his smile so bright that it rivals the sun. You weakly whisper something against his chest, and his smile widens when he understands and responds.

"I love you too, baby."

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #bokuto #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #I'm a little late #but I'm sure I'll be back on track in a few days! #uni has started today #I'm definitely not ready ARGH #hope you're enjoying kinktober so far! <3 #we still have a lot to go! <3 #sleep well everyone! <3 #I need to get up in 5 hours #should have gotten to sleep sooner T.T #i did not properly proofread this #my brain is jelly #I just added a few things here and there #I hope it's not repetitive and that it still makes sense #will have a look at it again tomorrow after classes

[divine-misfortune]

cancelling the rest of my plans for the day bc your fleshlight post about phantom has me on the floor and I can NOT get up

The post in question :))

Dew stares up at him through those pale eyelashes. A look that could have been soft, innocent. Should have been. No, Dew was watching him with the attentiveness of a hungry dog despite everything else about him being relaxed. At ease. Something Phantom was far from.

Face still colored with humiliation, Dew only sought to deepen the violet in his cheeks - he wanted his embarrassment to be vivid, the closest thing to tangible he could get.

The fire ghoul kept his fingers curled around the hard plastic regardless of his little mewls of protest. Slowly rocking it back and forth, just enough to tug at his knot (but more so to remind him of how pathetic it was to be trapped in fucking fleshlight) and let a little bit of his cum dribble out. There had been the beginnings of a wet spot on the front of his pants to begin with, a little overzealous with lube, but it was growing to become far more noticeable.

Dew smiled up at him with the faintest hint of teeth as Phantom's nails dug into the couch cushions, another sound of objection starting to bubble up but Dew hushed him before it found its way to the surface.

"Just helping bug," he shifted onto his knees. "Wanna make sure you're properly taken care of."

His pale hair slipped from where it had been tucked behind his ear as he dipped his head, forked tongue flicking out to grace where skin and silicone met. Phantom screwed his eyes shut and tried not to buck upwards at the warmth of Dew's exhale. Breath audibly hitching when he was given more, he didn't know if it was too much or not enough. It was something and he couldn't wrap his mind around it, or anything for that matter. His brain was still fuzzy, had been since he'd first popped the head of his cock into the toy now serving as a means of torture, but Dew was steadily pushing him towards having straight up static in his skull with every little movement.

When Dew kissed over his sack in an oddly sweet gesture before taking one of his balls into his mouth, it was decidedly too much. Phantom sounded wounded with his cry and Dew let out a pleased sound in response. Little vibrations to accompany the languid caress of his tongue and Phantom's eyes were nearly crossing.

"Dew - Dew, fuck, you gotta-"

He pulled off with a satisfying pop that left the little ghoul sagging into the couch.

"I know baby, i know" the sympathy in his voice was just honey masking the medicine. "Your balls still feel so full, must hurt so bad."

"Wh..." he blinked slowly, brows drawing together.

Dew tutted at him and got off the floor, finding a new home straddling his lap. Phantom couldn't help that his hands automatically went to place on his waist, his blind obedience earned him a soft chuckle. Holding the toy steady in one hand, the other came to cup his jaw and turn his face upwards before Dew kissed him.

It was no longer a gentle push towards that far away headspace, more like a full-on shove when Dew's tongue slipped into his mouth. He could taste himself, kinda salty but heady all the same, mixed with something floral lingering in the other ghoul's mouth. Kinda reminded him of Mountain's breakfast teas. Familiar and the last solid thing he could hope to latch onto to not slip entirely, but that lasted as long as it took for Dew to start shifting the toy again.

Phantom moaned into his mouth, allowing Dew to lick that much deeper. There was a bit more give to the toy now, his knot deflating slowly, slower than he'd like but too quick for Dew's liking.

He pulled back and Phantom found himself sitting there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, fixated on the string of saliva connecting them up until it broke.

"Gonna help you feel good," Dew's thumb stroked his jaw. "Make my good boy feel good, doesn't that sound nice?"

"But...'M sensitive."

"Just sensitive cause you didn't do a good enough job, silly boy."

"I-I didn't?"

Dew shook his head and tsked. Phantom's ears pinned back at his apparent disappointment but still twitched at the slick sound of the fleshlight stroking over him. The immediate discomfort of overstimulation felt further off but still around the corner, it wouldn't take much for the pinpricks of agonizing pleasure to dig into him again.

"I'm just gonna take care of you, get that knot nice and fat so nothing spills out."

His eyes fluttered when Dew's thumb pushed between his lips, heavy head dropping against the back of the couch with a groan. Dew had found an unfortunately efficient motion. Like a more complicated handjob in a way, stroking, twisting as soon as he felt resistance to his pull. Effectively milking him for everything he had - and Dew planned on taking everything he had to give. He could feel the last of the blood in his head rushing towards his cock. Traitorously staying fat and continuing to ache, his knot threatening to swell again, Dew had more control of his body than he did.

"Wanna see you fuck this pretty little pussy full."

#hello i made it worse :) #i did not proofread this so if u see mistakes no the fuck u did not #i speedwrote this during my break and got so into it i forgot to eat my lunch ghdbdh (eating at my desk tho dw) #void writing #spicy tag #writing #answered #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop/phantom #aeon ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost ficlet #ghost the band

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Ok this idea is haunting me and I want to know peace again.

A reader who wants to get revenge on Kirtch for that first day punishment and tries to slap his ass as hard as they can... starts crying like a baby because they hurt their hand.

Anyways I love you writing so many of your yans give me brain worms lol. Have a great day and thank you for the amazing content.

It was one of the few times that (Reader) saw Kirtch walking about without his robe on, wearing a soft top and bottoms that showed off the shape of his long legs. It was his day off, and he was cleaning his office, trying to get through his chores quickly so he could spend time with his sweet pet.

It was shortly after (Reader's) 'purchase', and they were doing everything in their power to make life difficult for their abductor owner.

Kirtch's back was turned to the mopey human for a good while, cleaning his bookshelves thoroughly. Although he knew everything about human anatomy, there were no studies on the effects of allergens common to the planets they visited on humans, so he took every precaution to keep (Reader) healthy. His arms reached high above his head, leaving him exposed.

Leaving his tight little ass exposed.

(Reader) couldn't act out too much, not wanting a repeat of their first night with him, but they could annoy him, refuse his affections, and get away with a surprising amount of shit under the guise of plausible deniability. Kirtch infantalized them so much, that if they accidentally pushed him too far, all they had to do was act dumb and he would instantly forgive them.

They snuck up behind Kirtch, holding their breath. Weighing the pros and cons, they decided that if they were punished for this, seeing his expression of pain and discomfort was worth it.

(Reader) wound up their hand, pulling their arm back behind their body like a spring trap, smiling triumphantly as they released, swinging their hand at top (Reader) speed towards Kirtch's butt.

Something bumped against Kirtch's bottom. It was so light that he thought maybe his pet had thrown a stuffed toy at him. He smiled, turning around to pick up whatever had bounced off of him, instead finding (Reader) doubled over, forehead on their knees, shaking violently.

"(Reader), pet?" Kirtch bent down in concern, confused by their vicious weeping. (Reader) cradled their dominant arm, sobbing. "What's wrong?"

"F-Fuck yo-you..."

#thank you so much #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere alien #yandere alien x reader #shitpost #crack fic #thank you #shit post #that's when reader remembered that kirtch has an exoskeleton #that did they think?? #i love him #bad writing #not proofread

[jazzkrebber]

how I think the crows would sleep

Kaz-straight plank on his back staring at the ceiling with just the sheet on him.

inej-Curled up in a ball with the covers up to her neck.

Jesper-When he's with wylan he gas one arm and one leg just hanging off the bed and the other leg is underneath the covers with his other arm around wylan, when he's not with wylan he's in a full star position.

Wylan-When he's with jesper he has his head on jespers chest with an arm on top hugging him, when he's not with jesper he's on his stomach with his head to one side and an arm straight underneath his pillow and one leg bent up.

Nina-When she's with Matthias she has her head and an arm on his chest curled up next to him cuddling, when she's not with him the covers are half off one arm above her head and the other out to the side with one leg up and the other actually underneath the covers.

Matthias-When he's with Nina he's of course cuddled up with her like I said before, but when he's not he's on his side with an arm under his pillow under his head with one leg kind of up.

#i wrote this so long ago and no i did not proofread #i love the difference between the descriptions of kanej vs the other 4 though lmao #shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #ruin and rising #siege and storm #wylan hendriks #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #matthias helvar #helnik #kanej #wesper #leigh bardugo #soc headcanon #save shadow and bone #soc spinoff #six of crows spinoff

[datesinredink]

Yan turtles (rottmnt) with an m/c that’s allergic to reptiles/turtles? Idk I just think it would be funny (not Donnie trying to get m/c into getting injections to help the allergy-)

ANON I AM SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BCIRBIFUNUIEH

Super duper sorry i ended up procrastinating really hard and i guess god took issue with that because he struck me down with multiple QAs and a Feelings crisis but the tests are over and I finally managed to sit down and finish Raph's part- seriously i struggled with him and mikey a lot but i guess it was kinda worth it in the end because Raph has an entire 110 more words to his part than the other three- hopefully it makes up for my lack of knowledge of his character. Enjoy!

Donnie

“My inspiration for this device was simplicity-”

Yeah you’re getting a hazmat suit until your allergies either magically disappear or he figures out some other solution

You’ll probably have to do a lot of tests, including possibly a blood draw but I’m no medical expert- since I headcanon Leo to be the medic he’ll probably end up helping too

After he finally puts the pieces together, he’ll start working with Leo to engineer a medicine to help suppress your allergic reaction, and maybe even be able to get rid of it entirely

Also anon you’re very right, you may be subjected to becoming the human pincushion of allergy shots while he figures it out. It’s safe. No it won’t kill you. Yes he made sure. Just, uh, maybe don’t ask your best friend their opinion on needles for a while….

In the meantime, he completely hates the current situation. He finally meets someone that he’s (mostly) fine with touching him, and they CAN’T TOUCH HIM without a HAZMAT SUIT. Just the worst. Awful times.

Normally, he’d have you around almost always, but, unfortunately, that’s currently not ideal.

Starts trying to keep things extra clean around the lair for you. Also everything that can be sanitized is sanitized. Good luck in the cleanliness prison after you get kidnapped later on.

The best about keeping distance, since he already wasn't super touchy before this whole situation. While he might tap you on the arm or something once or twice, it's nothing serious and you won't have a problem with him on that front.

Going back to the hazmat suit real quick, while it does do its job well, it's definitely not the most comfortable thing to wear, and you'll probably end up getting too hot pretty quick, so chances are you won't willingly be wearing it all too often. Donnie may occasionally force you to wear it, but otherwise you (usually) just... don't have to.

Leo

He’s the one who finds out you’re allergic. It was an accident he SWEARS. He only wanted to give you a pat on the arm when April first introduced you to them! How could he have known you’d get hives where he touched you?

At least he knows how to treat it. He managed to guide April through treating it, after which he sulked while rereading some Jupiter Jim comics.

Has a personal grudge against your immune system for daring to make you allergic to him. How dare your cells get mad about him.

When Donnie tells him that he might have “a fix, bro”, Leo jumps at the opportunity- oh thank god, he can finally hug you!

…Doesn’t mean he’s not super bad at focusing on actually working on it. Don’t worry, he’ll fix it eventually, just have a little patience.

Honestly, this is your chance to BOOK IT away from them, because none of them are as clingy as they will be after your allergies are cured/suppressed, which gives you more time to leave New York before things go from bad to worse.

Anyway, Leo’s about as clingy as he can be without physically clinging onto you for hours on end. Constantly hanging around you, like a ghost haunting their killer, except you’re not the one who kills people.

He might end up using your allergy to try and manipulate you away from his brothers. Mikey keeps forgetting to keep distance, Donnie’s suffocating and makes you wear a hazmat suit, and Raph almost treats you like a sopping wet cat that he has to take care of, so why not just stay with him? 

As much as he likes to criticize Mikey for forgetting, sometimes, particularly early on, he gets a little too close, and your allergies flare up, and while he does genuinely feel kinda bad, he will exaggerate his remorse for sympathy from you. He genuinely does try and apologize for it later, and he probably portals you two somewhere nice and gets you a couple of trinkets you like or find useful.

Mikey

Absolutely heartbroken!

His love is allergic to him! This is awful!

2nd most panicked when they first find out. Is their new friend ok? Did they mess up?

If you have a low tolerance for pain/allergic reaction symptoms and cry a little he probably will too. High empathy, man…

He’s really understanding after everything’s resolved and they figure out you’re allergic to them. He tries his best to keep a fair amount of distance between you and him, but he tends to naturally be physically affectionate, so there may be a slight adjustment period. He really doesn’t mean harm though.

He occasionally tries to bring you something from the mystic city that he thinks would be safe- a small figurine, maybe a sketchbook if you also like doing art, if he manages to bargain for/steal a piece of jewelry, he’ll also give that to you.

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s pretty big on physical touch, but since that’s off limits (for now) he’ll try to show you affection in any other way he can think of

Mostly quality time. He likes to take you with him when he explores through the sewers/city to spraypaint a couple of blank walls, and he’ll probably get you to try it too, and regardless of your skill level he’ll tell you it’s great

After Donnie and Leo finish making the cure, Mikey squeezes the LIFE out of you- he doesn’t mean to practically strangle you, but he’s fairly strong and he got excited, so he does feel a little bad afterwards.

Will decorate the hazmat suit Donnie gave you if you let him. He'll put stickers on it that match his and draw fun patterns that may or may not relate to him in some way. Maybe the spots he has, or the face on his knee pads. It's pretty endearing, even if his brothers may occasionally glare at him. In Mikey's opinion, if they're really that jealous, they should add something themselves.

Raph

And the award for most paranoid goes to….

Ok but really, he’s the most overbearing about it. This probably isn’t a surprise, but it’s still something I've gotta mention.

You don’t really have to worry about Donnie making you wear the hazmat suit- he gets it, not a fun sensory experience- other than a couple stand-out occasions, but you will have to convince Raph fairly often that you’ll be fine without it.

To be fair, it’s partially because he also forgets not to touch you sometimes, and while he’s better about it than Mikey and most of the time Leo, he’s also self-aware and protective enough that he’d rather be safe than sorry.

If you’re having an allergic reaction, he’ll either get Leo/Donnie/April to help you, or go find the hazmat suit Donnie made him a while ago when Splinter got sick and then help you himself

There’s a chance he might not do great though, as he’s not always the best under pressure and tends to panic when the people he loves are hurt or in some sort of extreme situation, especially when it comes to you (seriously, he treats you like a porcelain doll), but you can be reassured that he’ll do his absolute best to make you safe and comfortable.

Feels terrible after, pampers you a lot after the ordeal. Every time, not just the first few.

If he wasn’t the one who caused it, then he’s definitely pissed at whichever of his brothers made your allergies flare up. He won’t kill them, and he won’t lose it and drop kick them into tomorrow (yet. If they ever intentionally trigger your allergies he might snap some bones) but there will be a noticeable irritation and tension for at least the next few weeks between him and them.

He’s super excited after Donnie and Leo finish the allergy shots! I personally headcanon him to be the second touchiest of the brothers (Mikey being the most touchy, of course) so there’ll be a lot more casual touch between you two after. Hugs, headpats, you get the idea. If you try to tell him to stop, he’ll be very upset, though doing his best to understand, he will try to respect your wishes.. Before going right back to it after a week tops. Sometimes he genuinely does forget, after all, he does have a fair amount on his plate, but sometimes he does intentionally wait until he thinks he can get away with it again before jumping right back to how things were before. He’ll vehemently deny it, but no matter what happens, you’ll likely never really get him to stop for an extended period of time.

#yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #augh im so unhappy with raph and mikey's partsss #i shouldve known getting fixated on leo and donnie and forgetting about raph and mikey wouldve come back to bite me #<---- did not plan on writing fanfic when she started watching the show #sorry mikey and raph enjoyers i hope this was satisfactory #anyway i havent like #proofread this. #also none of my friends have ever watched rottmnt so im stuck with no one to check me on my characterization #pray for me