#lucas one shot

[inklore]

just a taste

premise: meeting luca after work doesn't usually end up with the two of you in an intense lip lock, both of you knowing once you start it's hard to stop. but that's what offices are for, right?

pairing: luca x (f)reader

word count: 3.1k

contents: literally barely any plot here, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, coming inside, established relationship, doing it at the workplace, teasing, dirty talk, pet names.

note: i know the bare minimum about this man because i’ve never seen the bear but those tattoos, the accent, the hair?? fill me like an eclair is all i have to say ok!

The cool breeze of the night air almost makes you regret not just heading straight home and slipping under the steam of a nice long shower and grabbing the first blanket you see on the sofa and planting yourself there for the rest of the night. Await your boyfriend's arrival under the comfort of cotton and cushion that he’ll surely plop down next to you on after he’s kicked off his shoes. His cold fingers finding you under the blanket to pull you close to his side, a string of kisses pressed along the side of your neck before finding your lips. The smell of yeast and sugar—embedded in his skin at this point—making you bury your nose into his collarbone. 

But this was a ritual for the both of you. 

You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work. 

The two of you walking home together, barely making it through the threshold of your place before lips and clothes were being pressed together and thrown to the floor. Luca’s soft laugh at needing to shower. Thus always leading to your face pressed into the wall of the shower and Luca’s fingers digging into your hips as he thrust inside of you. 

So that nibble of regret doesn’t last long when you come to a stop in front of his work. The makings of anticipation pull at the corner of your mouth as you grab your phone from your bag and start to text him to let him know you’re out front. 

A text that’s barely on the last word when the breeze of the door is hitting you and making you look up, “you can go in. He's in the back.” a co-worker you’ve met a dozen times, but his name slips your mind as you give him an appreciative smile and thank him as you slip through the doors as he walks out. 

You could enter the kitchen a dozen times—a million, a billion—your nose filling with that sweet aroma, Luca bent over a table, a dish, fingers deep in a ball of dough, the monochromatic uniform making his tattoos stand out on his skin like the most beautiful canvas, and you’d never get over the view. 

Over how your insides react when you see him in his element.

See him doing what he loves. 

It’s like the first time every time. 

Just like the first time he dragged you into the kitchen after your tenth date. Showing you his own version of paradise. His love. His joy. The way his face lit up when your eyes brightened when you bit into the scone he had made—saved—for you. The euphoric sweetness a good dessert can do to one's brainstem is still a scientific mystery to you, but you’d gladly leave the research to the experts if you could experience it forever. 

Taste Luca’s creations forever. 

That memory seems like ages ago. Now well into two years of your relationship. 

Nothing seems to fade with Luca. 

Your first times feeling just as tortuous to your fluttering insides as the tenth or twentieth time around. 

It knocks you off kilter in the best way. 

And when you look over at Luca after dropping off your bag and sweater in an open chair, you can not help but laugh when he finally looks up from cleaning off the surfaces of the metal tables and that stone look of him being in chef mode falls from the creases of his face and his features melt into something soft. 

He doesn’t say anything until his arm is around your midsection, drawing you in. “Hi, beautiful.” He smiles as your lips meet in a long kiss. Kissing you as if he hasn’t seen you in days, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for this moment and this moment alone. “How was your day?” 

“Not as good as it is now,” you tease. Hand in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours. 

The hum that makes your lips buzz and that lands on your tongue as he backs you up so your back is pressed into the doorframe makes anything you could tell him about what happened in your day lackluster. Incomparable. How could you possibly think of anything worthwhile—how could anything be as worthwhile—as his tongue moving along your bottom lip, his hand at the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle into your skin? 

It couldn’t.

"Let me finish cleaning up," he smirks. Thumb and pointer reaching for your chin, squeezing it, luring you in for one last kiss before returning to cleaning and leaving you dazed in the doorway.  

And if you didn’t know how seriously Luca takes this, from the ritual of making pastries to maintaining a stern, clean kitchen, you would tell him to hurry. Complaining that it is not fair for him to kiss you like that and then make you wait for him to finish, but the payoff was always worth the wait. And you love Luca’s love for his craft. Love him in this element—watching him and seeing him go into that little part of his brain that makes him go into boss mode. 

The stern gentleness of it all. 

It’s breathtaking to watch.

It’s art.

He’s art. 

So that’s what you do. 

You push off the doorframe and enter further into the kitchen just to watch him. 

“How was your day?” You ask while watching him write on the white board in the corner. 

“Good. We got a new guy who came in.” 

“Is he any good?” 

“Better than he thinks he is.” 

“I bet you brought out his best. You always do.” You smile at him when you watch him shrug off the compliment, not missing the twitch of the corner of his mouth. Ever so modest. 

Wordlessly, he puts the cap back on the marker and sets it against the metal of the board, walking over to one of the refrigerators and pulling out a small bowl of something green and white. 

Something that looks too beautifully crafted to eat, let alone eaten by someone who might not fully understand what went into making something so decadent—something that looks like it would be served to someone with a gold card, not someone who eats boxed mac and cheese for dinner twice a week (which Luca always tries to make fancier than Kraft ever could). 

Luca hands you a spoon, “told him the only critic that mattered was sharing a bed with me.” You make a face, the both of you knowing how outlandish that sounds when the food genius himself is standing in front of you. The critic who mattered to a lot of people more than the girl who was sharing his bed. 

But it still brings a smile to your face. 

“Did he think you were utterly insane for such a statement? I think eating greasy takeout two nights in a row is five star dining.”

He chuckles, “you’re the only critic that matters to me.” His palms come down on the edge of the metal table between you as he leans against it. “The only important one at least. Try it.”

The swoop that runs through you from his words, from his eagerness to hear your thoughts on a dessert you do not even know the name of, but know you will appreciate more than anyone else because it came from someone he admires, makes your cheeks heat up. 

And when it touches your tongue, when that euphoric sweetness overcomes your tastebuds, you don’t think the English dictionary could come in handy with describing the taste. The goodness of it. Compliments, which you know Luca and his fellow chefs have heard many times before and then some. But still bring that artist's joy to their chests when your eyes widen and you look at them in something akin to shock. 

The moan you let out makes him grin.

“Good?”

“Is he single?” 

“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” His arms cross over his chest, a playful brow raised.

You take another bite of the dessert, “I think you might want to start looking for another job.”

“And a girlfriend?”

You nod, “with something that tastes this good, I would give him my social security number easily. Oh my god.” You dramatically moan around the spoon, the action doing little to hide the simpering look on your face.

“Here I thought I was the only one who could make you spill such confidential secrets.” Luca strides across the table, coming to stand at your back. His lips pressing against the back of your neck and the top of your shoulder. 

Finding its home where your collarbone meets the junction of your throat, where he lets his warm breath blow against the known sensitivity there, then presses his lips to it. Making your back push into his front, your body melting against him. 

A soft noise lays dormant at the tail end  of your throat, making a ghost of a smirk etch against your skin from his mouth as he murmurs, “and the only one who can make those noises come out of you.”

Your voice is breathy when you say, “so much for being humble.”

"When it’s the truth, I do not need to be humble." His lips trailing to your ear, fingers running up the back of your exposed thighs, pulling up your skirt until they are at the apex of your hip, skating forward and close to your clothed mound. “Am I wrong? Should we see?” 

The spoon in your hand lucky you don’t have superhuman strength because it would be crushed in your grip right now. 

Luca’s fingers splay themselves across your pelvis, toying with the top of your underwear. “Hmm, awfully quiet now. Where’d my mouthy girl go?” An airy chuckle tickles your ear as he lets it out, “humbled are you?” 

There’s a teasing sneer forming on your mouth before it does a 180 and morphs into an ‘o’ as Luca’s fingers push into your underwear, the pad running through the clear as day arousal that’s been making your thighs clench uncomfortably since your kiss in the doorway. 

When the finger moves against your clit there's no covering up the gasps that fall from your lips. Or the way your ass grinds against the erection that’s pressing up against it. 

“Who’s humble now?” He teases. A cheeky grin on his face when he pulls his hand out from your underwear, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking it into his mouth. Making your cheeks heat even more when you turn to look at him. Your teasing turns needy as you give him that look, the one that always makes him drop whatever he is doing and have his body on yours within seconds. 

You both know that making it home now will feel ten times longer. Ten times more agonizing in the cool air with your warming bodies.

With you soaking your underwear and him hard against his zipper. 

So when he says “office”, all you can do is chew on your bottom lip in eagerness as you make a beeline towards it. Luca closer behind you than you expect when you hear the door shut seconds after you’ve entered and his mouth immediately on yours, your ass hoisted onto the nearest surface. 

Luca’s fingers making quick work to pull down your underwear, your skirt bunched at your hips. You fully expect him to pull himself up from his knees after slipping the lace from your ankle and tossing it to the floor. You expect him to come back up and slide inside of you quick and easy, but instead he’s trailing kisses and bites into your thighs. 

Blue eyes look up into yours, and he must see the need in them—that glint that tells him all you want is for him to be inside of you right now. The heady woes of foreplay just torture at this point. 

His teeth sink harder into your flesh, making you gasp. “I’ve worked hard all day; don’t I deserve a treat? A taste of the best dessert out there.” 

And how could you argue with that?

You can’t.

Not when his tongue runs from the bite mark in your skin to your wetness. Spreading you around him as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your grip on the metal your ass is under hard and tight enough to leave marks against your palm. 

And as crude as it makes you sound, as obscene and cocky as it comes off your lips, you will never hold back from telling Luca that his talent as a chef will never outweigh how good he is with his mouth and cock. 

He’s multi-talented and it’s a blessing and a curse to your insides. 

“Oh, fuck. Luca,” your head hangs between your shoulders. Your fingers in his hair, the heel of your shoe pressed against his back—his apron long gone, leaving him in that navy blue—his fingers digging into the side of your thighs as he keeps you against his mouth. 

The mouth that’s switching between sucking your clit between his lips and rolling his tongue against it. Eating you like you’re the best dessert his tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

It never takes him long to get you there. To make your chest heave and your nerve endings light up, as if they are about to make you panic from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that is completely taking over your body. 

His fingers have created beautiful, mouth watering food, just as they’ve made you completely lose your mind. Your legs shaking around his head. Your back involuntarily bows until it hits the metal surface of the desk you’re perched on. 

It’s when he slips two fingers inside of you that you completely lose it. The sob that pulls itself from your lungs feels red-hot in your throat as your fingers grip the strands of his blonde hair as you come against his mouth. Your hips riding out your high. Rolling against his tongue in a languid way, drawing out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Your body still reeling and alight with that desire-train that still has it wanting more. That heavy ache between your legs that wants to be filled. To be fucked by something bigger and thicker than a finger.

Your mouth comes down on the tabasco tattoo below Luca’s wrist in a gentle kiss, one of your favorites of his, when his hand comes to cup the back of your head to pull you up to him. 

His thumb runs from your cheek to your chin, where he pushes it up, so you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down at you as he stands between your legs. Your nails run along the tattoos along his arms, up his bicep, and to the nape of his neck. A fire burning in his eyes when your fingers run between the strands back there. 

“Tell me,” he says close to your lips. He’s checking in. Seeing if you’re too spent for his cock, seeing if there's more you want. If you want to wait until you get home. If you’re ready for him now. 

“It’d be cruel to not fuck me now.” You say it in a half-tease-half-serious tone. 

“Ooh,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “I don’t want to be cruel.” You can feel his other hand move between the two of you, undoing the button of his pants and messing with the zipper until he’s pulling himself out of them, hard and leaking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she so desperately needs?” 

Luca smirks when you laugh into his mouth, “the worst kind.”

With one last kiss, lick, and nip at your lower lip, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your thighs shake. Nails dig into his skull as he soaks up your oversensitivity to coat himself before going lower and slipping inside of you in one slow, fluid motion. 

Your mouth hung open at the stretch, and your breath caught in your lungs. Your foreheads resting against each other as you let your walls accommodate his girth, both of your breaths heavy. The pounding you can feel between your legs—that you’re not sure is coming from him or you or something more poetic and overwhelming like your conjoined bodies aching as one, like a heartbeat aches for a chest cavity when it’s torn from a body. 

The two of you need this. 

Need each other. 

When Luca starts moving, you know the two of you are both completely fucked. Spent and so full of desire that you know your time in this office is just the start of a long night of tangled limbs and wet mouths. 

The sounds you are making against each other's mouth are breathy and intoxicating. His tongue in your mouth swallows every mewl and moan he coaxes from your body with each stroke of his cock. 

His fingers find the back of your head again, not allowing you to even think about leaving his mouth. 

You think you see stars when his palm finds the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher on his hips. Think you could let this man completely consume you, and you’d still never be satisfied. Never get over how good it feels to feel his hips drive deeper into you, to feel the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you that makes his name roll off your tongue like a prayer. 

“Who’s pussy is it, baby?” 

"Mm'fuck," you are not sure if he is still playing the game of you leaving him for the new chef or if his filthy mouth is attempting to completely destroy you—which is nothing new when he has you coating and tightening around his cock like this. 

When you say his name, when you whine it into his mouth like a pathetic desperation, the erotic noise that it’s met with makes you cling to him tighter. Makes you press yourself closer to him. The movement makes the outside of his pants grind against your clit. 

“So beautiful,” Luca murmurs. The octave of his voice grows lower and choppy with heavy breaths the closer he gets. Neither of you lasts much longer when his pace picks up. The grip the two of you have on each other is hard and rough, enough to tear and leave marks that you’ll later kiss with gentle lips, unlike the passion that’s coming through with the hard kisses your mouths are giving as you both come. 

“How’d I get so lucky?” He breathes into your mouth, twisting your insides even more. 

#luca x reader #will poulter x reader #luca the bear #will poulter smut #luca smut #luca x you #luca the bear x you #the bear #the bear fanfiction #will poulter x you #the bear fx #the bear one shot #will poulter fic #the bear x reader #will poulter #adam warlock smut #luca one shot #the bear imagine

[bookshelf-dust]

loving you

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 961

warnings: um, literally none? let me know if i missed something though

a/n: wanted to write something for baby’s birthday. don’t bully me about the age i’m being self-indulgent, okay? but anyways, posting this now so it’ll be up all day on his birthday. also tagging @clovermunson for helping me out with a certain fuzzy fellow. love you guys!!! <3

————

Billy is warm beside you. That’s one of your favorite things about him. 

Even if there are times where you get hot and have to push him off because he’s making you sweat, there are still the times that you get to cuddle up to him when you’re cold. And he’ll tuck you into his side to warm you up. Just like he’s doing now. 

His socked feet are propped up on the coffee table, the rest of him covered by a blanket that the both of you share. His arm is wrapped around your back, fingers spread across your stomach where his hand has slipped underneath the fabric of your shirt. 

Every once in a while he’ll scratch over your belly, dull nails sending chills up your spine. Your hand is tucked underneath his thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth over his leg. 

Billy’s eyes are on the tv, yours glancing back and forth between him and the clock on the wall. 

You’re starting to wonder if you’ll disturb him with your little plan, just based on the way his eyes are starting to flutter shut, the way he’s melting into you. 

But you don’t think he’ll mind. Not really. 

The clock hand moves that little bit and the microwave numbers change, their light leaving a green cast over the kitchen counter. 

12:00 am.

You sit up, twisting some so that you’re facing Billy, and your movement wakes him up a little. 

He straightens, looking at you. He quirks a brow, trying to figure out what you’re up to. It’s always something. 

You reach out to touch his face, and he automatically leans into it. You cup his cheeks with both hands, and then you’re pressing your lips to his. 

Your mouth is warm, and he can both taste and smell the lip balm you’d put on earlier in the night. It’s a sweet kiss, long and heartfelt. 

Billy brings his hand up, holding onto your wrist.  

You’re thinking: I love you, I love you, I love you, and hoping you can somehow transfer the message directly into his brain through the kiss. He kisses you back, knowing exactly what you’re trying to say. Billy hasn’t shaved in a few days and his skin scratches against yours. You don’t care. 

When you pull away, his lashes are fluttering and if it weren’t so dim in the living room you’re sure you’d find a blush spreading across his face. 

“Happy Birthday.” 

Billy smiles at you. When he speaks, his voice is tired, lovesick. “Was that my birthday kiss?”

“Only the first one,” you tell him. 

“Oh, so I get more?”

Billy presses his forehead against yours, still holding onto your wrist. Your hands never leave his face, thumbs sweeping underneath his eyes. 

“You want another?” You ask. The question makes him chuckle. 

“Pretty please.” 

His lips tick up at the corners, enticing you. You press a kiss to both, to his cupid's bow, his chin. He pouts at you. 

“Come on. It’s my birthday,” Billy whines. 

“I really set myself up for this one.” You kiss him. “Should’ve known you’d use that to your advantage.” You kiss him again. 

Billy hums against your cheek where he’s now pressed his own mouth. He knows that makes you go all warm. 

There’s a noise behind you, a subtle added weight to the cushion you've settled on, and you know what it is without having to turn. The mewl makes Billy aware of the presence, and he grins against your face, a slow laugh leaving his throat. 

“I think he wants us to come to bed, B.”

Billy hooks his chin over your shoulder, meeting eyes with a little brown cat. 

You hear the first meow your cat lets out in greeting. The second is almost like a question. Why are you still up?

Billy reaches around you, scratching behind his ears. You can hear his purring. It’s always so loud. 

There’s a clambering, and Billy leans back, allowing for the young cat to squeeze between your body and the couch and up into his lap. 

“Night, Cosmo,” you say. Billy snorts. “What? It’s too late to be evening.”

Cosmo ignores your words, preferring to stare at you, waiting. You scratch his chin and he mewls. It’s not unlike the response Billy might have for getting the same sort of attention.  

“What do you wanna do in the morning, birthday boy? How would you like to celebrate your release from teenagedom? The big 2-0?”

Billy rolls his eyes at you and kisses the palm of your hand, having snatched it from where it was flailing midair. 

“Don’t care,” he says. “We could sit here all day and I wouldn’t give a shit.”

You lean in like you need to whisper, as if you’re not in your own home. “I think Max is gonna come see you. Don’t tell her I told you, but she bought you a sash.”

“No.”

You start to laugh. “Yes. A birthday sash.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

You kiss him again, though you’re laughing and can’t take it seriously. 

“Sure, baby.”

He pecks your lips once, twice. “No, I’m not.”

The polaroid you stick in the frame of your vanity mirror the next evening says otherwise. Billy is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, though loosely enough that you can see the words “Birthday Princess” in sparkly lettering on a pink sash. 

He’s not looking at the camera, he’s looking at Max, listening to something she’s saying. Lucas is on the floor, back between her knees.

Billy looks so happy, cheeks flushed from all of the attention he’d had, the start of a laugh on his face. 

It’s a pure, candid photo, for a true birthday princess. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove ficlet #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #billy stranger things #savannah’s fics

[daisysliv]

i got you | steve harrington

word count: 3952

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: instead of max being cursed by vecna, it's you

warnings: light swearing, angst, mentions of suicide, fluff if you squint

notes: recently got into stranger things and steve harrington is quickly taking over my very being, plus i finished s4 a few days ago and needed to write this!! hope you like! not edited so all errors are my own

📼 cant take my eyes off you 📼

library

stranger things bookshelf

You’re just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

“This is for you,” I handed a brown envelope to my best friend, his name scribbled on the front in my normal chicken scratch. He looked at me, confusion written into his features but I ignored it and looked away. Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I passed another envelope to Max, Dustin, and then Lucas, each of them taking it from my hand hesitantly, the same confusion written in their features as Steve. “Oh, and these are for Robin, Will, El, and Mike so if you could… give it to them if you can ever contact them again.” 

I handed four more envelopes off to Steve, who pulled them from my hand slowly. “What is this?” His eyes softened as he stared at me. 

“It's um…” I hesitated to tell them but knew that I needed to. They would find out anyway soon so there was no harm in me telling them. “a fail-safe. For after. Just in case they… things don't work out.” 

As much as I trusted Nancy and Robin, this plan of theirs was faulty. There was a higher chance of it not working than it actually working so I held no high hopes. If they found a way to save me from Vecna then great! But if not then I had letters full of all the things I needed to say but wouldn't be able to. I wanted to believe it would go off without a hitch but when has anything worked out in my favor? Almost never. 

There was a small part of me that held high hopes but I didn't let it show. I couldn't let it show. 

Steve stood from the couch and rounded the coffee table, never taking his eyes off of me. “It's gonna work.” He says so softly that I could feel my heart crack in my chest and I have to force back my tears. “It will work.” He sounded like he was convincing himself more than me. 

I only nodded, knowing that if I spoke I wouldn't be able to hold in my sobs anymore and I refused to let him or the kids see me cry. Mainly the kids. I didn't need to alert them of how terrified I actually was of dying. They didn't need to know that every bone and cell in my body trembled with fear with every passing second. 

“I wanna visit my mom and I need you to drive.” I turn to grab my bag, shoving the letter for my mom into it and sling it over my shoulder. Steve looks like he wants to protest but decides against it and pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket. 

Without waiting, I rush outside and feverishly wipe at my face to get rid of the tears that forced their way out. I was leaning against Steve’s car, waiting patiently for them to come out when I heard the sounds of a clock chiming in the distance. 

No.

Slowly turning my head, I could see the grandfather clock near the fence, its hands getting closer and closer to the twelve. I was running out of time and it was becoming increasingly more obvious. 

God, I hope Robin and Nancy were making headway and knew how to save me. Dying at nineteen is not what I had planned. I had so many things I wanted to do and places I wanted to see but if I died tonight, I wouldn't get that chance. I wasn't okay with that and I was not okay with Vecna taking that away from me. 

Turning my attention away from the clock, I met eyes with a frowning Steve. He didn't want to do this, I could tell, he just wanted to keep me inside and safe but that was the thing… nowhere was safe. Not outside or inside. 

“Where are the kids?” I asked when I noticed that they weren't climbing into the backseat, fighting over who had to sit in the middle. 

“Far from you.” He sneered, his words cutting through me like ice. “You honestly believe I’d let them near you after everything? Being near you would kill them.” 

I stumbled back, staring at him in shock, his eyes dark and cold. This wasn't happening. He wouldn't say that to me ever. Especially today. 

“What are you–? Steve, what are you talking about?” 

“Don't you get it yet? Everything that had happened– everyone that has died or left, was all because of you. You make everyone around you miserable.” I shook my head, not believing anything that was being said. “Why do you think your mom killed herself and your dad left? It’s because they couldn't stand you.” 

My heart dropped. This wasn't Steve… no, he would never say that. He wouldn't…

Steve has never done anything to hurt me on purpose and he wouldn't start now. “This isn't Steve.” I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut and willing myself to wake up from this vision. 

I felt hands squeeze my shoulders and pushed back causing me to lose balance and fall against Steve’s car. “Your time is out, Y/N.”

“No! No!” I shouted and pulled my legs up to my chest, my hands covering my ears. 

“Y/N!” I snapped my eyes open to find Steve– my Steve staring back at me, his eyes wide with panic. “You're okay, you're okay,” He repeated when he noticed my frazzled state, helping me up from where I was sitting on the ground and pulling me into his chest. 

You’d be like Heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

At long last love has arrived 

And I thank God I'm alive

We arrived at the cemetery where my mother was buried just on the outskirts of town and I was quick to exit the car. I made it a few feet from the car when I heard Steve calling my name. 

“Steve, please, just wait in the car.” 

“Just wait. Y/N, please.” He pleads with me and takes a couple steps until he is standing right in front of me. “Just listen to me, please.” I don't say anything and he takes it as a sign to speak. “I know something happened back at the Wheeler's before we left. Was it Vecna?” 

“No, I'm… I'm fine, Steve. I mean, as fine as someone who's about to die can be, at least.” I fiddled with the strap of my bag, looking down at the ground for a moment. 

I couldn't handle him staring at me with those big eyes full of terror and confusion and hurt. I could handle a lot of things but seeing the way he looked at me wasn't something I could do today. If I somehow didn't die then maybe I could look him in the eyes again. 

“You know you can talk to me. Right?” He asks softly. 

“I know.” 

“Then why… Why are you pushing me away? Especially today when all I want is to be near you and make sure you're safe.” He pulls his letter out from his back pocket. “Look, I don't need a letter. I don't want a letter. I just want my best friend to talk to me. I'm right here so please, just talk to me.” 

I bite my bottom lip, not knowing what to say to him. What could I possibly say to make everything seem like it's okay? There was nothing because nothing was okay. Everything was a mess and my best friend was begging me to talk to him but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to. I couldn't tell him everything if I was just gonna die in the next few hours, it wouldn't be fair to him. To me.

“If Robin and Nance find a way to save me then I’ll tell you everything I wrote in that letter and more, okay? Just, for now, wait in the car. I won't be long.” 

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off you

Pardon the way I stare

There's nothing else to compare 

I sat cross legged in front of the headstone that read my mother’s name and pulled the letter I wrote her out of my pocket. I slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper that said everything I needed to say. Gently unfolding the paper, I spoke, “Hey, mom. I'm sorry it's been a while, things here… they've been crazy. But uh, I don't know, I guess I wanted to stop by and tell you how much I miss you. Because I do, like, a lot. Every day I think of you and wonder what my life would look like if you didn't die so soon.” I smiled sadly and adjusted my position so I sat on my knees. It wasn't the most comfortable but my feet were beginning to fall asleep. 

Taking a deep breath, I looked down at the paper and began reciting my words. “I often wonder how my life would've turned out if you had stayed with me a little longer. I imagine that we would've left Hawkins and you would've gotten that job you always wanted and met someone who could make you happy– happier than what you were. I liked to think that everything would be better but the truth is… I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I miss you like crazy and life hasn't been easy without you but I have the best friends I could ask for, even if most of them are children.” I pause to wipe away my tears. “I have Steve, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Will, Mike, Robin, Nancy, and El by my side, though El and Will live in California now, they're still two of my favorite people. I think you’d like El, she's a lot like you, Mom. Always finding a way to make the people around her happy like you did. She's just… she's the little sister I never got. Anyways… Granny is still as crazy as ever but misses you so much. She comes whenever she can but it's getting harder for her to move around. I think… I think she'll be joining you wherever you are soon, which hurts to think about but she's ready. I know she is. Pop is… gone. He left a while ago and we haven't heard from him. Granny was heartbroken but she's doing better. Uh… I finished high school and I'm taking the year to figure out what I want to do like you always told me I could. Granny isn't happy about it but she understands. And…” I look around, taking another deep breath to steady myself. 

It was always hard to visit my mom's grave knowing that I could've done something to save her. If I had just stayed home that night like she wanted me to instead of going to Steve’s, she would probably still be here. 

“Some things are happening now and I'm really scared… like, really scared. I don't want to die, Mom. I don't want to leave these people but if I do, I hope I get to see you again. I love you, Mom, and I should’ve said it more and I'm sorry I didn't. And I'm sorry I didn't stay home that night like you wanted. I should've and I'm so fucking sorry. Love your daughter, Y/N.” I wiped under my eyes and sucked in a breath of air while I folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. I moved to place it on the ground when the sky above me turned gray. 

I looked around in terror and heard the familiar sound of a clock chiming and a terrifying laugh followed by the sound of my name. I turned towards the source and saw my mom walking towards me, her wrists dripping with blood. I stood from the ground and gulped in fear. 

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear those words. But that's not true, is it, my sweet girl? You had a bad feeling all day and yet… you still left. Maybe you knew what I was going to do and didn't care enough. Maybe you wanted me gone.” She took a step closer and I backed away. 

“Mom, that's not… that's not true.” I sobbed. 

My blood was cold and my bones were trembling. She wasn't here. This is Vecna. This isn't… it isn't real. 

“That's why you left the house that night. It's okay, you can admit it. There's no more need to hide the truth.” She continued, taking big strides forward while I continued to walk backwards trying to tell her it wasn't true. 

I didn't want her to die. She was my favorite person on the planet but Steve and I had been planning a night out for so long that I left despite her begging me to stay. God, I should've stayed. I never should have left.

Why couldn't I be a good daughter and stay home? It was a simple request and I fought her on staying home. I left for the entire night and when I got home…she was lying in her bed with her wrists slit and a note on her bedside table. It wouldn't have happened if I just stayed. 

Maybe it was my fault.

Maybe a part of me knew and wanted her gone but that wasn't…. That couldn't be it. There was no way I could have known, there were no warning signs but I was barely home that year so I couldn't have seen them even if I tried. 

“You can tell me, sweet girl. You can tell me how much you wanted me gone…” 

“No, it's not true, I swear.” I backed up in a tree and screwed my eyes shut. This wasn't real. 

Wake up, Y/N… come on, wake up. 

I felt my mom’s breath hit my cheek and let out a sob opening my eyes but instead of my mom being in front of me, it was blue eyes staring at me and a large charred hand reaching out to grab me. I ducked and ran. 

There had to be a way out. 

I saw a flicker of red and slowed to a walk. It was like a storm but there wasn't any rain, instead there were floating pieces of a house and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. 

“What are you doing here?” A demonic voice asked, sending a shiver down my spine. I ignored it and kept walking but sped up my pace until I reached what looked like a burnt down forest with a few trees left standing and looked around. 

I walked closer to the tree in front of me and let out a gut wrenching scream when I saw Chrissy Cunningham’s body trapped in a tree, her bones clearly broken and her mouth wide open in a scream. I fell back as I stumbled and found myself leaning back against another tree, looking up I saw a body in a similar position to Chrissy’s but this was a man. It was Fred Benson, a senior with Nancy who died yesterday. 

“Do you like my collection? You'll be joining them very soon.” 

Vecna. 

I scrambled up onto my feet and took off in the other direction but a vine wrapped itself around my ankle pulling me back to the ground and dragging me until it threw me into a tree. A vine wrapped around my throat, choking me while I struggled to break free from the ones wrapped around my wrists. 

A soft melody began to ring in my ears but I was too focused on Vecna’s approaching figure but the sound of Steve yelling my name made me tear my eyes away from the demon in front of me. I watched as hole opened up in the red sky and saw my friends crouching next to my body, yelling at me to wake up. 

“We’re right here! Y/N, come on!” I heard Steve shout, the melody that was ringing in my ears became increasingly louder and I recognized it to be my favorite song. 

The sight of you leaves me weak

There are no words left to speak

“They can't help you, Y/N.” Vecna turned his head away from the opening and sneered, “there's a reason you hide from them.” 

But if you feel what I feel

Please let me know that it's real

The vine tightened around my neck and I gasped for the air I desperately needed. “You belong here. With me.” 

“You aren't here.” I rasped, tearing my eyes away from the opening I wanted to run to so badly. I didn't want to be here anymore. I wanted to be out there with my friends and tell Steve all the things I needed to say. 

I needed to tell him that I have been desperately in love with him for as long as I could remember and I couldn't die before I got that chance. I wrote it all in the letter but I really didn't want him to find out when I'm dead. 

“Oh, but, I am.” The vines tightened. “I am.” He reached his claw-like hands out to my face and I tried to lean back. 

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off you

I could faintly hear my friends shouting my name, begging me to wake up and I felt more tears slip from my eyes. Vecna’s hand got closer to my face and I could see the opening between the space in his fingers, my body was floating and the others were trying to drag me back down but I was too far up. 

The time to wake up was now. 

I thought of the conversation I had with Steve before I went to my mom's grave. I thought of the way my heart broke when I saw his eyes lined with unshed tears and the terror he was hiding. I thought of the first day I met him when I was six and how big he smiled when I asked if he wanted to be my friend and share my snacks since he was sitting alone at recess with nothing. I thought of the middle school dance when I was all alone during a slow dance and he left his date to dance with me. It was the moment I knew I loved him and that I would for a lifetime. 

I love you, baby

And if it's quite alright 

I thought of when I first met the kids. They had been running from some people from Hawkin’s lab and came pounding on my front door begging me to let them in and I did. They were so grateful and kept coming around. It was annoying at first but then I realized I didn't mind it as much as I once did. 

I need you, baby

To warm a lonely night

I thought of when I took Max and El out shopping when they were pissed at Mike and Lucas. She wasn't supposed to be out in public like that for her protection but I knew she would be safe and that she needed to get out of that cabin for a couple hours. She had her first sleepover that night and she was so happy. 

I love you, baby

Trust me when I say

I thought of when I first met Robin. We got acquainted quickly considering we were trapped in a secret russian base trying to find out what they were planning. She quickly became one of my best friends. 

Steve and I kept trying to help her find a girlfriend but it was proving to be hard but it was fun to annoy her with. 

Oh, pretty baby

Don't bring me down I pray

I could feel the life slipping out of me but I needed to keep going. I had to keep going. 

Steve crossed my thoughts again. This time it was a memory of when we had our first fight. It was something so stupid but I couldn't help but pick a fight over it because I was jealous. I was jealous of how much time he was spending with Nancy despite them dating. 

Like I said, it was stupid. 

We didn't talk for days after and it hurt. It hurt like hell not having him to talk to everyday even if it was for a little bit. A little bit I could handle but never? That was something I couldn't handle. 

I closed my eyes tightly and let all my favorite memories of my friends flash through my head. 

Hearing them shout my name through the opening again laced with more desperation than before gave me the strength I needed to rip at Vecna’s neck causing him to let me go as he stumbled back in pain with a shout. I fell to the ground and forced myself into my feet, running as quickly as I could. I didn't want to spend another second here. 

The melody ringing in my ears picked up as I ran and dodged the falling bricks that were aimed at me. I nearly got hit a couple of times but I forced myself to continue running. 

My knees started to burn but I couldn't stop. I was too close. I was almost out. 

Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay

Oh, pretty baby, trust in me when I say… 

The closer I got, I could see Steve frantically reaching for me with tears streaming down his cheeks as he screamed my name, begging me to come back to him. My heart clenched and I ran faster than I ever had in my life. 

Suddenly I felt myself falling and my ass hit the ground as arms wrapped themselves tightly around me. I breathe in the familiar scent of Steve’s cologne followed by the soothing sound of voice. “I got you. I got you, love.” 

I let out a sob and held onto his forearm with my hands, gripping tightly like he was my lifeline. I felt the others put their hands on my legs, they were either laughing or crying or both but I didn't want to open my eyes, scared that I would be back in that place with Vecna. 

“I got you,” Steve murmured once more and I felt his lips press against my head and I squeezed his arm tighter. 

“We should get going. Robin and Nancy are meeting us back at the house.” Dustin spoke up, breaking the silence that fell upon our group. The hands that were on my legs left and I reluctantly opened my eyes just in time for Steve to slowly remove his arms from around me and start standing.

I stood slowly, brushing off the dirt from my pants and took a moment to collect myself. 

“Let’s get outta here.” Steve grabbed my hand and let me lean against him as we walked back to the car with Can't Take My Eyes Off You still playing through my walkman and my eyes heavy with exhaustion. My muscles ached beyond belief but it was proof that I survived.

I may have survived Vecna today but I knew it was far from over. 

part two

notes: if you would like to request something from the prompt list, you can find it here, just be sure to add the numbers, and if it’s angst or fluff! if you want to request something that is not on the list, go right ahead and send in the ask!

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[writings-of-a-demigod]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time - Jim Street (S.W.A.T)

plot: going into labor while visiting Street at work and being stuck due to a lockdown.

character: Jim Street x pregnant! reader + Deacon x reader + Luca x reader

a/n: Someone requested this but I couldn't stop writing so I turned it into a one-shot 😅 sorry I was so excited!

It was a busy day at S.W.A.T HQ but you didn’t know that when you made an appearance to say hi to your husband Jim. You were out with friends for brunch before going home you thought about stopping by to say hi to the team. The first person you saw was David, you smiled at him and he came over to greet you.

“Hi Y/n!” he gave you a hug “How are you doing?” he looked you up and down.

“Hi David. I’m good and you?” You asked.

“Just swamped right now but good.” He answered honestly.

“How’s things with being pregnant?” he looked at your belly.

“Ugh so much harder than I thought.” You pouted “I thought it was going to be easy and fun and I’m like a unicorn but no it wasn’t.”

He gave a short laugh “Well don’t worry any day now the baby is coming and it’s gonna be different.”

“Well you are an expert at that so I should take your word for it.” You both smiled at each other.

Just before you could about your husband, he showed up looking worried.

“Y/n!” he came rushing to your side.

“Hey you” you smiled at him.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright? Is it the baby?” he took hold of your hands and started looking for anything that didn’t look right.

“Easy there tiger” David started and that made Jim look at him “She’s here to make your day better.”

He nodded at him then David excused himself. Jim turned his focus on you and gave you a long hug.

“Okay now I gotta ask you.” You said while hugging him back “Are you okay?”

He gave you one of his cute smiles that showed his dimples “Deacon was right I feel much better now.” He didn’t let you go completely and was still holding to your arms.

You were a little suspicion about that, but you knew his job wasn’t that easy. Tan came running and passed you two “Street we got an update.”

“What’s going on in here?” you said looking around, seeing everyone on edge.

“I’m sorry baby it’s just bad timing. We’re dealing with something right now.” Street said while rubbing your arms trying to keep you calm.

“You go help out I’ll leave and see you at home.” He was hesitated to leave you.

“Go” you encouraged him “I’ll be fine.” You gave him a gentle push.

 He gave you a soft kiss before running after Tan. You hoped they all ended the day on a good note and prayed silently for their safety. As you were making your way to the door you felt pain, but at this point it was normal because it was close to your due day. You were feeling pain all through your pregnancy but each one was different depending on your stage. You stopped to take deep breaths.

“Oh hey are you alright Y/n?” you heard Luca’s voice before seeing him.

He stepped in to help if he could “Are you alright?” he offered you his hand to grab if you needed it and God you did. You took hold and squeezed.

“Here let’s help you sit down on the chair.” You barley made it to the chair

“Should we call Street?” Luca was rubbing your back to ease the pain.

“No.” You said firmly “There’s no need to scare him.”

The pain stopped “Oh the pain stopped” you stood up straight then looked at Luca.

Before Luca was able to reply the alarm noise boomed in the whole building. Everyone looked around then their training took over, the whole building was on lock down. The alarm scared you and you took hold of Luca’s arm.

“What’s happening?” your voice was shaky.

“We’ve been dealing with hackers all day. If I have to take a guess they must be trying to get into our system.”

Just then Jim came running, he was looking for Luca when he saw you.

“I thought you left?” his eyes were wide.

“Sorry I was double sided a little bit.” You gave him a weak smile.

“Come on we’ll let you rest in Hick’s office until we finish dealing with this.”

You both made your way to Hick’s office, and Jim went out of his way to make you feel comfortable as you will be in there for a while.

“All done” he said as he fluffed the last pillow and turned to see you looking at him with heart eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing” you moved closer to him “I just think you’re the best husband, trying to make me feel comfortable here while your team is out there doing their work.”

“isn’t that why you marry me?” he smiled with those cute dimples.

“That and for many other reasons.” You kissed him.

When you parted he saw your eyes widened, you looked down at your legs and his eyes followed yours.

“I think my water broke!” you said panicking.

“I think so too.”

He grabbed your arms to help you sit down on the sofa, Jim was used to stressful situations and situations that made most people panic and freak out. He knew exactly how to be calm and process everything at once, so when your water broke, he was exactly what you needed by your side. He was there for the birth classes with you, he didn’t miss not one class. He read every book he could find about pregnancy and childbirth, he wanted to be ready for the whole thing just in case something happened.

“You remember the breathing exercises?” you nodded “Well it’s time to put them into test, okay?” he told you in a very calming voice.

“Give me a minute baby I’m gonna call someone” he held his phone to his ears.

He was still holding your hand while he talked to someone on the phone.

“Yeah we’re in the Hick’s office……… yeah her water just broke.” You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation because of the contraction, you pressed on Jim’s hand hard while controlling your breathing. He ended the phone call and got down to your level.

“Hey sweetheart just keep breathing.” He grabbed your other hand and press a kiss to it.

There was a knock on the door and Deacon showed up “Hey guys I thought you might need a hand here.”

Jim and David did everything they could to make you feel at ease, it was the longest 30 minutes of your entire life. But you had your husband with you the whole time, so you kept on focusing on the positive things and not get your mind the on the negative. David was also here and he has four kids and they all healthy so he’s a trained professional on childbirths right now, when you told him that he laughed “Yeah you’re right about that, so there’s no need to be worried as long as I’m here.”

He also called an ambulance that was waiting for you outside as soon as the lockdown was over. The contractions were getting 4 minutes apart by now, the team was working as fast as they could. Thanks to both Luca and Tan they manage to find their target, the people behind all of this. Even thought Jim was slowly getting stressed about his baby being born here in HQ he wants to make sure that both you and the baby were fine, thankfully David was there.

As soon as the lockdown was lifted the EMT got into the building and head straight to you, they manage to get you to the hospital in record time. Your doctor was already waiting for you, you forced them to let Jim in with you they were against it at first until

“Listen to me if you want to baby to get out of me in the smoothest way possible without any risk of me being stubborn then my husband will be in there with me. You got that?”

You were so serious than the nurse was terrified of you so she let him in. The whole team were waiting for any news about what’s happening in there. After 2 hours Jim Street walks in the waiting room with a big smile on his face.

“It’s a girl!” he announced putting both his arms up “And Y/n is fine, she’s resting.”

A round of hugs and congratulations went around the room.

“Hey Deacon Y/n wants to see you first.” Jim told him.

They both walked in and saw you holding your little girl in your arms, you look happy and tired at the same time. Jim took her from your arms and gave her a kiss before handed her to Deacon.

“Wow she’s so beautiful.” He rocked her lightly looking at both of you.

“We wanted you to be the first to meet her.” Jim started.

“Yeah, we thought that she would want to meet her godfather.” You continued.

David’s head turned towards the both of you shocked “Are you sure?”

“Yeah of course, we’re sure!” you both said.

“She wouldn’t be here without all your help today, David.” You smiled at him “So thank you for everything.”  

 He smiled “Well let’s just hope she has her daddy’s looks but mother’s behavior.”

Both you and him laughed while Jim acted like he was offended.

“Say that to the poor nurse her mom threatened on the way to the delivery room.”

#writings-of-a-demigod #s.w.a.t. #s.w.a.t imagines #swat imagines #swat one-shot #jim street x pregnant! reader #jim street x wife reader #dominique luca x reader #deacon x reader

[mya-cookie-eater]

Imagine…

You’re your comfort characters comfort character 

C/c=comfort character 

Warning ⚠️:kinda sad at the end but at first kinda cute I also didn’t reread this so it might be rushed and not make sense mb plus it’s short

A/n: send request for stories like these I like writing them.🙃 pick a specific character tho and I’ll tell you if I can do them or not (please send requests)

After a long day of school/work they come home and lay in bed they grab their pillow and began to speak. “hey y/n I had a good day today I almost got into a fight but I didn’t because I thought of you and how you wouldn’t want me to do that how you would want me to be the bigger person so I talked to them about it and I know you fight sometimes but you wouldn’t want me to risk everything by fighting so yeah how was your day??”  In their mind the pillow came to life forming your face and body into it. “I had a good day just chilled on your bed you know” you looked into the eyes of C/C and grabbed the side of their face. “I’m proud of you I’m so proud of you” you hugged them and then you laid on their chest they hugged back and you started to cuddle they you felt something hot and wet they were crying. “what’s wrong??” You asked and put their face into your hands. “I love you but your not real” their world of happiness collapsing with those words. Your.Not.Real you made them happy you made them better but you weren’t real. 

A/n:Hey I wrote this because I seen dd Osama confront n3on and I was proud of him and I thought of what it would be like if I had his comfort character or if I was any of my other comfort characters comfort character I seen a story similar that’s what this was based on so if you find that send me a link bc I really want to read it again they wrote it better than me 

#miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales 1610 #miles morales imagine #atsv #earth 42 miles morales x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington x reader #chato santana x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #fear street #damon smut #kate schmidt #hobie brown x reader smut #lucas sinclair #peter ballard smut #rue bennett smut #steve harrington #sadie sink x reader #steve harrington angst #hobie brown smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic

[mayfieldss]

12 hours - Angus Macgyver

Synopsis: when you are taken hostage, Mac has to figure out a way to find you, though with feelings involved it's not like any other case.

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, mentions of blood, torture/drugging, angst, fem!reader

You're front door flung wide open was Mac's first warning. The lack of your presence in the home was his second.

When he'd arrived with coffee in one hand, and his car keys in the other he hadn't expected it, and as a frown set deep into his features, the hairs rose on the back of his neck.

His voice rang out, oddly loud in the empty house, only to hear no answer back from you. Silence, from every room. Mac wouldn't have been so concerned had you been different people entirely, but you weren't, and what you did for work warranted a need to watch your back at every corner. Mac wasn't so good at watching his own back, but watching yours had always been his specialty, which is why the fact he didn't see this coming, cut so deep.

The broken lampshade in the living room, and the crimson that had long ago soaked into the carpet brought more fears to Mac's mind than he could count, and the speed at which he raced around the house looking for you was unmatched to any pace he'd set before. The first phone call he made was to your cell, which rang in the upstairs bedroom without you to answer it. The second was to Jack, who picked up after the third ring with an irritated groan.

"It's eight in the morning man, what d'you want?"

"Listen, you gotta calm down. You can't think straight when you're like this, and we need that big brain of yours if we want any chance of finding her." Jack has a calloused hand placed firmly on Mac's shoulder as they stand in your empty bedroom. Mac doesn't need a reminder on the importance of staying calm. It's how he's survived his whole life, how he's managed to keep Jack alive to this day, and how he's managed to save you more times than he can count.

But he isn't calm, at least not now. Mac's gaze is locked on the top drawer of your dresser, where you'd allowed him to move in some of his things the month before. Some trinkets, a few shirts, though he can see one of them strewn on the floor in the corner after a rushed discard of it in this very room a few nights before.

"Did I ever tell you we were moving in together?" his voice comes quiet, distracted as his eyes scan over the room. Before he can spiral further Jack's hold on Mac's shoulder grows tighter and he spins the blonde around to face him

"Quit using that past tense bullshit." The man snaps his fingers, loud, in Mac's face, cutting through the harsh thoughts running rampant in his mind. "Y'all are moving in together whether you like it or not, and when we get her back, you better start packing your shit."

Mac can feel the pain welling in his chest, before he pulls himself out of Jack's hold. He takes one deep breath in and holds it for a moment, the air in his lungs one thing he can control. And then he's focused enough to think, and to plan. He's ready to find you.

You can feel a dampness on your clothes, and while you're unsure if it's water or sweat, it brings a coolness to your skin. There's a sound akin to dripping somewhere to your left, and faint traffic in a direction you can't quite make out. It's dark, and it stays that way even after you open your eyes.

You're not at home anymore, that much is clear, but you're not alone either, and as your eyes adjust to the black you can make out the picture of a figure before you, leant against the wall in waiting.

"Tired?" it asks, voice full of enjoyment. A sharp plastic digs into your wrists, and if you were to hazard a guess, cable ties would be the closest you could get to what was restraining you.

You don't respond to whoever sits across from you, and despite the fear begging you not to, you close your eyes again.

Faking sleep is better than being forced into it by a harsh hit to the head, something you assume happened earlier by the aching you feel. And it's certainly better than torture or interrogation—something you can see coming from a mile off.

"No, no, I don't have the patience for games." The voice has come closer, though you hadn't heard the footsteps, but before you can even out your breathing, sell the lie, your nervous system forces you awake. Water, ice cold, covers every inch of your body, weighing you down as you gasp from its contact.

Your eyes are open again, and you can see your captor, which isn't any luck on your part. It's almost a definite that you'll be disposed of now, once all is said and done.

A singular light is on above you, a bright, irritating presence. And now, as you cast your gaze to your surroundings, you see the various tools displayed on a tray across the room. A scalpel winks at you, as do many other shiny metals.

You wish you'd never woken up.

Mac sits in the war room alone, scanning through security the footage Riley had gathered hours ago. He can't see a thing—or rather, he can't see you—in any of the frames.

On the quiet Suburban street where you lived, cameras weren't needed. Which rendered almost every tape Riley had pulled from the systems closer to town useless. And the more Mac looked through each one, his eyesight began to blur. Perhaps the footage wasn't the problem. Maybe it was Mac himself.

Angus MacGyver had never not had an idea in his life. He was a quick thinker and always had been. Yet, here he was—trapped in the large expanse of a government owned building and surrounded by technology that should have been assisting him—with no plans worth speaking aloud.

Mac found himself standing from his chair, heart beating at a furious pace. It was as though he couldn't get air into his lungs, and the breaths he did take seemed to burn, his anxiety acid to his insides.

He can hear his own gasps for breath in his ears, frantic and rapid, and for a moment, he thinks he might be dying. He can see his phone light up on the rooms center table, next to the bowl of paperclips, now half empty. But the phone makes it all worse, as with the notification and the device lighting up, he can see you.

Trapped in the phone, you sit grinning on a couch, Mac beside you with your legs in his lap. The lock screen is a moment in time, yet he can still remember everything that happens after. He remembers Bozer snapping the picture, and can recall his own hands, pulling you into his lap moments later. Mac remembers you, laughing into his lips, tasting of beer, and the icing from Jack's birthday cake. It feels like his chest is shrinking now as he sinks into the memory, mind sucking him into it before pushing him back out into the now. He doesn't know where you are, if you're alive or dead, and the burn of panicked tears comes quickly. His gasps increase in volume as he slides down the wall to the floor, and with the blood pumping hard in his ears, he can hardly hear the door open.

"Woah, woah, Mac!" Jack is on the floor with him in moments, a firm grip on both his shoulders. "Breathe man, in and out."

Mac tries, he really does, but everything inside him spills over. He's an overflowing sink and it's so unlike him, as if grief has taken hold long before he can confirm he's lost you for good.

"I don't know where she is, Jack." There's anger in his words, fear forcing it out of him, and in his peripheral, he can see Riley and Maddy in the doorway.

"I know, man. It's tough, but we're gonna find her." Jack's support does nothing to soothe him, and Mac finds himself pushing the man back, scrambling to his feet.

"Really, Jack? Because it doesn't feel like it. We don't even know how long she's been missing. How long did it take before I even realized she was gone?" Mac has forced himself to face the window, as if he can hide himself—his pain, no matter how clear it is—from his coworkers. His friends.

"Mac, this isn't on you. There's no way you could have known what was about to happen." It's Maddy, though Mac still refuses to face her. He can hear someone step forward, and by the rustle of a leather jacket, he knows it's Riley.

"This was never your fault, Mac."

"I didn't know she was missing. I should have known." He can hear the crack in his own voice as he tortures himself from the inside out. And then he yells, an agonizing sound full of anger and resentment as he turns, swinging his hand out to knock the glass bowl of paperclips to the ground. It shatters, as does Mac, and his friends rush to hold him up before he can fall.

Maddy sends him home after that, though that doesn't stop his racing train of thought. Bozer orders him take out that he can't bring himself to eat, and he waits for you, as if by pure will he can cause you to form in the doorway.

He tried to wrap his head around who would have taken you, but the list of suspects is too long. Was it revenge on you they were seeking, or was the plan to cause Mac pain in this very way? Was it something to do with the foundation as a whole or one singular person? Every mistake Mac has ever made forms in his mind, but none of them fit with the story he's put together.

The open door, the blood on the carpet, the broken household items. Your phone left behind, coffee pot empty as you waited for Mac to arrive. Your bed wasn't made, and Mac could picture the day you would've had had things gone right. It's dark out, but Mac can't sleep. he stands, and despite Maddy's orders, leaves the house.

You're cold, shivering in a shirt that isn't yours. It's one of Mac's, checkered and blue, paired with pajama shorts that do nothing to conserve your body heat. But having something of his right now gives you comfort, a reminder that he will be looking for you.

The room has looked the same for all the hours you've spent within it, and you have no concept of time in its confines. Whether it's night or day, you can't tell, but no one told you that the scariest part of being held captive, sometimes is the fact that you don't know how long you have been.

When you see the man again, your vision is blurred and you can hardly bring yourself to speak. There's something in your bloodstream now, a drug given to you by the stranger, that keeps you weak. A hallucinogenic that makes it almost impossible to decipher what is real and what is not.

"Do you remember me?" the stranger calls. He's organizing his tools across the room, black gloves making gentle sounds with each movement.

It's hard to breathe, let alone to speak. "No."

You're sure that's not the answer the man wants, but it's the truthful one you can give to him. You can hear his footsteps now and they echo loud in your eardrums, increasing the headache you already have.

"Think a little harder. Look at me, go on."

You raise your head, though it feels too heavy for your neck, and do as he says.

"Do you remember now?" there's a lack of emotion in his features, like he's made of metal and wires beneath the skin that pulls him together. But you can't put his face into full focus. Maybe it's the drugs, or the tears of frustration that pull themselves to the front of your eyes, but you can't remember seeing a face like his.

"No." It's a struggle to keep eye contact, but you hold out. "I don't remember a single thing about you."

The man lets out a grunt—at least that's what you make it out to be—before wandering back to his cart of metal devices. They're all surprisingly clean, and in between the items, you can see a syringe. A fresh dose of whatever drug you're already pumped full of.

You think the man is going to reach for it, but instead he picks up one of the many other tools. It's sharp, and you can tell it's going to hurt.

"Here's someone we both remember. Angus MacGyver. Does that ring any bells for you?" he's brought the knife, if you can call it one, over to your side, but you flinch at Mac's name more than the cool touch of the metal.

"Who?" You can hardly keep your head up, but if there's one thing you won't do, it's betray the man you love the most.

The knife stings as it digs into your bicep, and burns further as it's dragged all the way down to your forearm. There are tears and screams that leave you along with it, but you doubt anyone can hear. The sleeve of Mac's shirt has been torn in the wake of the cut, and your blood will stain the fabric forevermore.

"Angus MacGyver," the man speaks the name again once your screams have subsided to mere whimpers. "now, a little birdy told me a secret about you and him. D'you wanna know what it is?"

"I don't know any man by that name." You're curled in on yourself as far as you can go with your hands restrained behind you, the pain unbearable as it courses through your arm.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping here, but you don't look like the kind of woman to buy oversized men's plaid." He tugs at the fabric of your shirt, pulling you back to sit upright. "There is of course, this too."

Slowly, you peel your eyes open. The man has pulled his own chair up to sit in front of you. It's made of old, splintering wood, and you don't understand how you hadn't seen it before. In his gloved hand, he holds a picture. Printed on glossy paper is an image of you and Mac, and unhelpfully, the photo has captured him, kissing you as though his life depends on it. Which he did often.

You're stood in an alleyway, Mac's hands gripping you tight as your own are tangled to great lengths in his hair. Next, the man shows an image of Mac, seated on a barstool with you in his lap. You both hold half empty beers with grins wide on your faces. You are shown picture after picture of you and Mac together, holding hands, kissing, laughing, and even fighting, all taken from some unknown point of view. But the last photo is one you recognize. It's shows Mac in the same blue check shirt you wear now, holding you close. He's looking down at you in the picture with the utmost affection, whilst you send a toothy grin to the camera. The photo is aged, with fuzzy edges, well loved just like the people it holds. It's the photo that has sat on your bedside table for years, and now it lies in the hands of someone who doesn't deserve its memories.

"Now we're all caught up, let's talk about our mutual friend." He's picked up the knife again, your blood still dripping from the blade.

"I don't know that man." you don't know why you're persisting when all the evidence lies in front of you on hard concrete flooring. You're buying time at best.

"Well you know his tongue at least. What, with it having been down your throat and all."

You don't respond to that, and a laugh escapes the dimly lit figure in front of you. He's moved back to his cart, eyeing up each and every violent item he could use to pull the words he wants from you.

"MacGyver knows me, even if you don't." The man picks up a cloth and wipes your blood from his gloves. His pace is slow, teasing. "He's a hard man to hurt, with no mother, father, siblings. So how do I get my leverage?"

The silence presses down on the both of you, and he's waiting for something. His eyes cast over you expectantly in a way that makes your skin crawl.

"Do you wanna take a guess?" He asks finally, brandishing now a new weapon, this one worse than the last. You don't answer, head sinking down in defeat, the drugs are wearing off, but you're still tired, and the feeling of your own blood flooding out of you isn't easy to handle.

The man takes his seat again, with the new blade in one hand and syringe in the other. "Men like him are weak for the women they love."

Mac had ducked under crime scene tape many times in his life, but doing so to enter your house was something he had never done before. It was dark in every room, Mac fumbling his way up the staircase in the black. He knew his way around the place by now, and he'd slammed into every door throughout his years of being your lover. He could probably recall how his back felt pressed to the wood of each one, whilst you kissed him fiercely, from memory.

When he makes it to your bedroom he reaches for the light switch, the bright yellow making everything clear. Your bedsheets, creased and pushed to the edge of the mattress, some of your clothes in a pile on the chair. Mac hadn't noticed before though, the empty picture frame on the bedside table. He can't remember a time when the frame wasn't taken up by his favorite picture of you, and now the lack of it jars him.

He's moves fast once it registers, and picks it up delicately. The frame is perfectly in tact, but it lacks the presence of your smile within it and it doesn't take long for Mac to race his newfound evidence to the phoenix foundation. When he arrives, what should be a dark, lifeless building, is lit up with people bustling about inside. The doors are unlocked and Mac isn't stopped on his way down to the lab like he thought he would have been.

"Hey, Mac!"

Jack. It's always Jack.

"Maddy sent you home amigo." He catches up fast, chasing Mac down the hall, though Mac can't stop. He slips into the elevator hoping to leave Jack behind, but the man pushes his way inside right after him. "What you got there?"

Mac has the lightest hold on the object in his grasp, afraid to damage what little information could save your life. "It's a picture frame, from Y/N's. Whoever took her could have taken the picture that was inside." It sounds so inconsequential when he says it out loud, the 'could have' in the sentence echoing out.

"So you're thinking you can check the thing for fingerprints." Jack confirms, nodding as the doors to the elevator open up to the lab floor. Bozer and Riley sit at one of the desks, scanning through what looks to be even more security footage.

"Mac," Riley's eyes are wide, and Mac can tell by the way she's scanning over him that he doesn't look well. His hair is disheveled from how many times his hands have anxiously raked through it, his eyes tired yet somehow wide awake. "We didn't think you'd be back till tomorrow."

Mac doesn't answer but instead places the frame down on the table. "We need to check the fingerprints on this, now."

But before any of them can make a move to do so, Bozer takes a sharp breath.

"Jack, you need to get Mac out of here." His eyes are fixed to the computer screen in front of him, and when Riley slides her wheeled chair over to peek at screen, she stands abruptly.

"What? What is it?" Mac pushes forward, but Riley blocks his view.

"Mac, I really don't think you should see this." She's placed her hands on his chest, trying to coax him backward, and without need for explanation, Jack grasps onto Mac's shoulders. He's trying to tug him out of the room, Mac realises.

"If you've found something, I deserve to know what."

Jack's fingers dig deep into Mac's shoulder blades, grounding him to the spot. "I don't know what they've found either, brother, but if they think you shouldn't see it, I stand by 'em." He tries to guide Mac away again, and the look on Riley's face tears him apart. Her brown eyes hold sympathy and a kind of fear he had yet to see from her.

"Riley," Mac's voice is surprisingly steady considering the waves he feels inside. "Just tell me one thing. Is she dead?".

She looks over at Jack, and they exchange silent words, though, Mac can't tell what exactly they are. "I don't know, Mac. I don't know."

There are tears that well in Bozer's eyes when Mac glances to him, and in a second, he's broken free from Jack's loosening grasp. He slips past Riley toward the computer, and he's choked for air the second he sees it.

It's a video file, sent to Bozer's email, currently paused. In the frozen image, you sit slumped in a chair, the rest of the room dark around you. There are cuts and bruises littered on every inch of skin that Mac can see in the dim light, and behind you, pinned to the wall is a collage of photos. Mac can just make it out from the blurry footage, the picture that had once been in the frame beside him stuck right in the center, above your limp body.

"Play the video, Bozer."

Mac can all but whisper it, his voice caught in the silence that lies between every pair of lungs in the room.

Bozer does as he's told despite hesitation and shaking heads from both Riley and Jack, and in moments, the footage is rolling.

Gravely words come from somewhere behind the camera, anger within them, and a kind of amusement too.

"She's not dead. I know that's what you're thinking. But she's not. Yet. Every cut was carefully placed, painful, yes, but not immediately fatal. She's losing blood, Macgyver. So it won't be long. 12 hours. Trace the email if you want. Take the easy way out. I won't be here either way. For what it's worth, I hope you don't make it in time. Then you'll know how I felt."

The audio cuts out, and the video comes to an abrupt end, the screen embraced in black.

Mac allows himself time to stand there, to think it over. His hands shake as he runs one through his hair, and he feels Jack's grasp on him once more. Mac flinches, a rage once unknown to him boiling in his stomach.

"You were right," he says finally, cutting through the quiet. "I shouldn't have seen it."

Thanks to Riley, Mac knows exactly where you are in minutes. He doesn't give the others time to stop him once he knows, and he's never raced down the Phoenix halls quite so fast.

He's burning rubber on the drive over, and when he finally makes it to the abandoned subway station, he doesn't think about the danger he's in. It's clear whoever has you really wants him, and he has nothing but an army knife on his person. Not that that had ever stopped him before.

He runs down every passage and checks every maintenance room he can find, tripping his way down every staircase. The hallways echo and groan, and with every sound he flinches, wondering if it could be you.

When Mac reaches the end of the station, he's at a loss for words. You're not here, or maybe he's missed something. Maybe Riley was wrong. He crouches down in defeat at the end of the tunnels, head bowed and breathless. He doesn't know why he does it, but he shouts, voice hoarse and dry. He's done a lot of that over the past day, even though he doesn't have the time to. His own voice echoes back to him, bouncing off of every surrounding wall. It sings down the tunnels and into the darkness, and it's all Mac has left. He leaps off the platform and onto the tracks, daring to walk down with only the light of his phone to guide him. The subway no longer runs, the tracks dusty after years of no use, yet it still seems dangerous.

Mac scans his phone's torch light over every crumbling wall, more than one rat squealing as they run from his fast-paced steps. He dares to call your name into the darkness over and over, hoping the sound of you will be a guiding light. He's hopeful, and with that hope comes pain. He doesn't hear you shout back like he prayed you would, even when he does so again and again.

Silence. Other than his own steps and the sound of his desperate breaths. Silence. Other than the crunch of dirt and debris under his boots. Silence. Other than the scream. The scream that finally echoes down the tunnel, pounding Mac at full force. Silence. Other than the sound of you.

His name echoes out of the black, your voice pulling him into a sprint as Mac continues to call to you, begging for your answer. He's closer now, close enough to hear your sobs behind the stone. You're behind the walls, Mac realizes, and he can't find the way in.

He's pummeling the solid rock, as if with his fists alone, he can break it. There's nothing he can use to help him, unlike many missions before. He's improvising with himself and himself only.

There is blood on Mac's knuckles from each slam of his fists when he decides to try a different approach. The bones in his hands still ache as he slides his palms along the wall, pushing on every crack he can find in the dark. He calls to you again, just to make sure you're still with him. Still alive. But this time you don't answer. It feels as though his heart may be constricting in his chest, like the ribcage that holds every important part of him has shrunk two sizes. He calls out again and is met with another round of quiet.

When Mac feels air, cold against his hand he knows he's found it. The way to you. He pushes hard against the stone that blocks his path, and the weight on his chest decreases, if only for a moment. And then he's in yet another tunnel, though this time he can see a light at the end. It's dim and seems to fade in and out as he moves. And when the tunnel opens out into a room Mac has never seen, the light sits like a halo above your drooped head. You're covered in patches of red. Blood, some dry, and some still dripping from the open parts of you.

"Hey, baby, can you hear me?" Mac is now knelt at your feet, Swiss army knife slicing easily through the ties that bind you. He fears for the worst when he places three fingers against your neck, checking for a pulse that is there, but weak. With every touch Mac's hands become coated in a new layer of your blood, warm liquid coming from behind ice cold skin.

"That's it, open those eyes." His voice is soft as you begin to stir, fear layered beneath his quiet tone, and Mac is tearing up his shirt in seconds for fabric to bind your wounds.

For a moment, he allows his gaze shifts to the wall behind you, where hundreds of photos seem to be pasted to the wall. Along with the one from your bedroom, the pictures contain nothing but you and Mac together. Every date night, fight and hidden moment not so private anymore.

Your eyes are open now, though your gaze is foggy, and Mac watches the tears run silently down your cheeks. He's trying his best to stop the bleeding of every cut and gash in your skin, and forces himself to focus entirely on the movements of his hands.

"You know, it's not as bad as it looks."

Mac is moving frantically to preserve what should be inside of your body when you say it, and when he looks back up at you, your eyes have closed again.

"Eyes open baby," He squeezes your hand as he continues to work, "keep them open for me." It's occurring to Mac now that he can't possibly cover all of your wounds, and that soon, he's going to have to carry you out of the room, whether you're bleeding or not.

"When were you gonna tell me you have a bunch of holes in you, huh?" He tries to send you a smile with the joke, but his voice cracks midway through the words.

"oh, I didn't notice." your chest rises hard with what Mac hopes to be a laugh, though a pained one. "I'm sorry for getting blood on your shirt."

"Shirts', plural" Mac corrects, gesturing to the pieces of fabric he has now wrapped around your wounds. "But don't worry about that, c'mere."

He's up on his feet now, and reaches out to pull you into his arms.

It's hard, and the howl of agony that leaves you in your attempt to stand is piercing, even with all of your weight held up by Mac. You're panting heavily, even after the majority of the pain has subsided, and Mac feels guilty about the next step in his pitiful plan.

"Just keep breathing, honey." his grip on you is tight, despite the fact his fingers press down on your injuries. "I'm going to pick you up, okay? On the count of three, bridal style."

"I was hoping we could save that for the wedding." The joke doesn't quite land, considering the sobs you mutter it through, but Mac forces a chuckle anyway. He adjusts his hold on you, placing a kiss to your temple as he does.

"On three, ready?" Mac can feel you grip him tighter as he says it, and his own heart races at the thought of hurting you. "One, two—" The three is lost amongst your cries as Mac lifts you into his arms, and he doesn't flinch even as your teeth sink into his shoulder out of sheer pain. Sobs wrack your body as Mac takes the first few steps out of the room, trying to be as careful as he can.

"I know, I'm sorry, you're doing great. Deep breaths, baby. Deep breaths." He knows he can't put you down now, not until you're safe and outside, but without torchlight to guide the way Mac is seeing blind. He walks with caution through the darkness, wasting time with the snails pace he takes, and just when he thinks he's going to have to re-evaluate this plan of his, go back and make a headlight from the scraps in the room, Mac hears something up ahead. The sound of many shuffling feet, conversation, and then finally the calling of Mac's name and yours. It's his friends, Jack, Riley and Bozer, with their own torches some way up the tunnel.

"We're over here!" Mac shouts, desperation breaking the notes he speaks. "I've got her, we're here!"

Mac can feel your cries of relief into his chest, and as the lights up ahead get closer, Mac can't help but shed tears too. He's relieved, and as the beams shine brighter, he spares a glance to downward. You're looking up at him when he does, gasping through your own sobs, with a smile on your lips. And he smiles back, genuinely this time.

MACGYVER TAGLIST: @ash5monster01

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

AN: I was supposed to post this two days ago for our boys birthday but that plan kinda went out the window when the doubts crept in.

#macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #macgyver 2016 #angus macgyver #macgyver fanfic #macgyver 2016 fanfiction #angus macgyver fanfiction #macgyver x reader #macgyver imagines #macgyver one shot #angus macgyver fic #angus macgyver fanfic #angus macgyver x reader #angus macgyver imagine #lucas till #lucas till fanfiction #macgyver x you #angus macgyver x you #macgyver x yn #macriley #jack dalton #riley davis #macgyver 2016 fanfic #macgyver 2016 x reader #macgyver reboot #lucas till x reader #Tristan mays #the phoenix foundation

[lewisvinga]

football masterlist

jude bellingham

vinicius jr

rodrygo goes

aurelien tchouameni

kylian mbappé

trent alexander arnold

neymar jr

richarlison de andrade

lucas paquetá

pablo gavi

pedri

alejandro balde

joão felix

sergio ramos

diego lainez

kevin alvarez

#football smau #football scenarios #football imagines #football x reader #footballer x reader #football imagine #footballer x y/n #football one shot #football player x reader #jude bellingham x reader #vini jr x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #neymar jr x reader #richarlison x reader #lucas paquetá x reader #pablo gavi x reader #pedri x reader #aurelien tchouameni x reader #rodrygo x reader #alejandro balde x reader #joão felix x reader #diego lainez x reader #sergio ramos x reader #trent alexander arnold x reader

[newlynova]

MDNI. you were sent to copenhagen to learn from the best pastry chef. little did you know that he was willing to teach you lessons beyond the realm of baking. 1.1k. cw female masturbation, power imbalance

the sweet aroma of vanilla bean and molasses enveloped you as you tugged the blanket higher upon your body, the warmth and comfort of the soft bed soothing the knots and aches of your muscles.

you had been working nonstop since you're arrival to copenhagen— your working days had consisted of fourteen hours on your feet in the kitchen of your mentor while the rest of your hours were spent nonstop reading and researching various recipes. you had been sent to copenhagen by your boss to learn from his former co-worker and close friend. 

you had been overjoyed, ecstatic even, to learn and work hands-on with such an amazing chef. yet upon your arrival, your excitement had been quickly replaced with dread— not for baking, no. but for the chef himself.

he was closer to you in age than you had expected— a handsome fellow with wavy blonde hair and various tattoos decorating his arms. he was quiet and dedicated yet very assertive in the kitchen. his tone had been dominant and blunt since he began his lessons with you, unable to hold his tongue while providing clear yet merciless feedback on your baking. he never yelled at you, though, refraining from doing so out of respect for your person, an action you rarely saw in your profession.

life after work had not been much better since you had been forced to stay with him— the rate of hotels and local bed n' breakfasts having been far too high for you to able to afford both a flight ticket and hotel arrangement for your trip. luckily, he had offered you his bedroom, allowing some divide between your personal life and his own.

and, as you lay there in your temporary boss's bed that night, your mind began to wander against better judgment. it had been far too long since you had any relief, far too long since you had felt an ounce of euphoria. hours upon hours of working had taken a toll on you, you thought as your hands drifted beneath the fabric of your large pajama shirt, you deserved this.

without another thought, your hands began to tweak your pebbled nipples, tugging and pinching at the sensitive buds as heat pooled at the base of your cunt. you rolled your head to the side, cheek pressed flat into your chef luca's pillow in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. one hand began to drift down, trailing lightly over the length of your stomach before slipping under the covers of your pajama shorts. your mind drifted to the sleeping chef on the other side of the wall.

you thought of his strong and tattooed arms. the sight of his tattoo sleeves had been an object of your desire, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as the idea of tracing the outline of the illustrations with your tongue flashed through your mind. your mind then fixated on his large hands— those long and girthy fingers making your cunt flutter around emptiness. you pondered on how they would feel buried deep into your cunt, if they were as skilled with toying with a woman's pussy as they were crafting orgasm-inducing baked goods.

the light of the bedroom flickered on as your fingers slipped into your wet slit, your walls clenching around your far-too-small index and middle fingers as the bright warm light blinded you. your cheeks grew hot as you made eye contact with chef luca, your mouth dry and muscles stiff. 

at that moment you realized how inappropriate your actions were— here you were stuffing your cunt full at the idea of sleeping with your boss while lying in his bed. you were almost positive that he was going to kick you out at this point. you wouldn't blame him either— you much rather have a pervert sleep on the streets than sleep just a few mere feet away from you.

"i— luca— i can explain." you rushed out, retracting your hand from the depths of your walls not quickly enough. you couldn't help the rush of heat to your cheeks nor the clench of your cunt at the sight of his relaxed posture. wait, relaxed? why was he so relaxed?

"you look like you've seen a ghost, love," luca smirked, the thickness of his british accent ever present. he crossed his arms over his chest, biceps flexing through the thin grey shirt he had donned. with his legs crossed at the ankles and his body leaning against the door frame, he continued to taunt you with a knowing look in his eyes. 

"don't stop on my account, pretty girl," he readjusted the grip on his arms, your eyes shamelessly drifting down to the tent growing in his plaid pajama pants. "i thought i had heard a noise and figured i'd check on you— glad i did now," he stated.

"have i been working you too hard, darling? body too sore and in need of relief that you felt the need to touch yourself," he raised a questioning eyebrow. "in my bed?"

you were too stunned to speak, your mind going blank as you processed the situation. you couldn't help but get wetter at the prospect of your boss finding amusement in your situation.

"pull the blankets down." luca ordered sternly, your hands moving quickly to follow his instructions. your body was performing on autopilot, all sense of self-esteem having gone out the window. "remove your shirt." he then instructed.

the cold air nipped at your chest, your nipples hardening even further under the weight of his gaze and the frosty atmosphere. "what were you thinking about while you touched yourself, hm?" luca questioned as he pushed his body off the door frame. his steps were slow and calculated, the bed dipping beneath his weight as he crawled into the bed space in front of you. "were you imagining this? imagining me walking in— catching you?" he taunted, fingertips brushing over the bare skin of your ankle. 

within the span of a second, luca's fingertips had wrapped around the width of your ankle, tugging your body close to him and pinning you beneath his weight. he had situated his body between your legs, eyes fixed on you like a predator. any words had been lost to you, not that you would be able to find the right words to say anyway. like always, luca had left you speechless.

"tell me, pretty girl," luca's body hovered above you, hands pinned to the bed by either side of your head while he trapped you between his legs. his eyes grazed over your bare chest, drinking in the delectable sight of your breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. 

"do you want me to teach you another lesson?" he asked, one of his hands shifting to cup the underside of your breast. he squeezed at the plump flesh, expertly kneading at the fat of your breast like it was made of dough.

"yes, chef."

#˚ ༘♡ 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #꒰ luca ꒱ #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear x reader #the bear x you #the bear x fem reader #the bear fanfiction #luca x reader #will poulter x reader #luca the bear #will poulter smut #luca smut #luca x you #luca the bear x you #will poulter x you #the bear one shot #will poulter fic #luca one shot

[mikesbasementbeets]

mike wheeler in stranger things 2 + girls, girls, girls

#michael 'what's exciting about this?' wheeler #mike thinks his nonchalance about lucas and max dancing in the second to last one is character growth on his part.... and then #dustin goes to look for other girls to dance with and he's back to complete confusion...... still absolutely lost on the girls front #spent the rest of this season looking at will like 🥺🥺🥺 though #(the halloween one is such bad quality sry it's a very small and dark shot but look at his face come on) #gay mike wheeler #anyway. gifs!!!! #mikesbasementgifs #mike wheeler

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey, girl! I noticed that your Lucas Lee list is empty (a crime if u ask me). So I wanted to fill that space with an idea for you! I would like to ask for Lucas Lee headcanons on him dating a reader who is a literal ray of sunshine? Legit it is the Sunshine x Sunshine Protector trope - I would love to see what you come up with. Thank you and Happy Writing! P.S. Make it fluffy, perhaps a sprinkle of angst pls?

hi! thank you so much for requesting someone I haven't written yet, I hope you like what I've written!

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

No one had expected the two of you together. Lucas was a jerk, always hitting on every girl and never committing to just one. But when he met you, it’s like you brightened up his life, shone light on the darkest parts of him. 

You’d happily watch his movies while he was away filming, but most of the time Lucas would drag you along so he didn’t have to go forever without you. He’d show you off on the red carpet, covering you with love bites, ignoring you playfully swatting him away, your smile brightening up the whole place. 

He’d grow jealous a lot. You are gorgeous, of course you could get any guy you wanted. But no matter what, he’d protect you from all of his jealous fans and the creeps out there. Glaring at everyone, even if they came to see him. 

Sometimes you’d get on your tippy toes, resting your hand on his chest and whispering in his ear. “Let yourself be loved, you grumpy little shit.” Which would cause him to laugh because you are so small and cute, that words like those didn’t suit leaving your precious lips.

He fell harder when he found out you baked, you came into the set one day with containers full of brownies, biscuits, cakes and cupcakes. He felt his heart beat faster when he saw you drew his face on top. Making them just for him. 

You were a literal Disney Princess and he was the beast. But to you, he was your prince.

Lucas came home, finding a small box wrapped for him. Inside sat a bracelet that read ‘Daddy’, you would come running in, showing him the one on your wrist that read ‘Princess’.

Lucas would spoil you with many things, stuffies, cute skirts and dresses, make up, anything you liked. He’d even surprise you with picked flowers because you preferred them over the bought ones.

There were days where it wouldn’t be as bright, sometimes you felt like he’d leave you, seeing all the women he hang around or that hang around him. You’d watch as they’d flirt and he wouldn’t push them away, but he’d make it up to you, pulling you close right in front of them and kissing you, grabbing your arse in his hands and squeezing. You’d pull away all flushed, staring up at him as he’d smirk down at you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollasks #anon reply #imyourbratzdollwork #lucas lee #lucas lee x reader #lucas lee fanfiction #lucas lee fic #lucas lee fanfic #lucas lee fan fic #lucas lee imagines #lucas lee imagine #lucas lee oneshot #lucas lee one shot #lucas lee fluff #lucas lee angst #lucas lee x female!reader #lucas lee x fem!reader #lucas lee headcannon #lucas lee headcanon #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #chris evans angst #chris evans blurb #chris evans character #chris evans drabble #chris evans fan fic

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Peyton painting that mural though. Okay. What did it actually say? Do you know what the quote is? 'cause I kept trying to read it and I couldn't catch it. -Bethany

It's the end of Lucas's book. It's the whole thing about how like love remade him and.. -Sophia

Made me like young again. Made me whole again. And it's a picture of the comet smashing into all of it. -Hilarie

Oh man. I've really missed that. -Bethany

And and he says it, it what it looks like at least is that in his writing of that final paragraph, he says, I will always love you, like in, in it at some point. 'cause you can see that kind of at the bottom of the comet and then she does the like return Return Yeah. On the computer screen thing and says, I will always love you Peyton. So yeah, she like gave him his book back. -Sophia

Really? Made me miss the River court. Damn. That shot of Chad standing in the middle of the quote. -Bethany

The big aerial shot. -Sophia

There was so many epic artistic shots and moments in this episode. -Bethany

#drama queens #super cool #beautiful shot #love #one tree hill #othedit #othedits #leyton #lucas x peyton #peyton x lucas #lucas scott #peyton sawyer #chad michael murray #hilarie burton #gif #gifs #gifset

[arzennn]

Our Scars | Luca Changretta imagine

Luca comes home to great news

warnings: very little blood, but some minor injuries, pregnancy

“Amore mio?”

I heard Luca’s voice from downstairs, after a big thud that was possibly the sound of the door slammed. He sounded weary and a little - just a little - weak. I rushed down the stairs to see him sitting at the lunch table, wearing a once white shirt now soaked in blood. His tie was hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up which showed his bloody scars that covered the skin. He seemed worn out.

“Luca?” I asked and I must have sounded worried. He got up and held my hands immediately.

“Don’t worry, amore,” he murmured in his low voice, the thick Italian accent dripping from his tongue. “Just a few scratches.”

I ordered him to sit back down, and he did so.

“What happened?” I asked as I gathered my little first aid kit from the kitchen window.

“The fucking Shelbys,” he grunted. “Those god awful monsters. Voglio ucciderli.”

Sighing, I sat down next to him and took his arms in my lap. I cleaned the wounds carefully, and my husband hissed from time to time.

“Quit whining,” I said strictly. “What were you even thinking, Luca?”

“My love,” he addressed,” calm down a little. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry.”

“You better be,” I said. “Don’t you dare ever do that again. No more fights. No more guns. I’m fed up!”

He didn’t understand.

“But amore,”he spoke softly, carefully with each vowel,” that is a part of my job. I have to-“

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out.

I hadn’t meant to tell him like this. It was supposed to be a joyful moment, with tears and kisses. Instead, there I was, patching my husband’s wounds up, on the verge of crying. Luca looked as if I was from another planet.

“What? You’re-“

“Yes.”

“Oh, mio caro, that is wonderful!” he cried in joy. I thought he almost teared up.” I love you. I love you.”

His hands were in the air again, heavily gesturing. I grabbed them to continue with the cleaning, but he took the little cloth out of my hands.

“Luca-“

“Leave it, cara mia, leave it!” he said, standing up. I did the same. “Oh, if I only knew, if I hadn’t been so foolish-“

“So, no fights anymore?” I asked.

“No fights.”

“No guns?”

“No guns. Nothing that could mean harm, I swear.”

I smiled at him. Throwing my arms around his neck, he swallowed my tiny body up in a hug. His large hands carefully wrapped around me.

“You are going to be a father,” I giggled.

“Oh, amore,” he sighed and kissed me.

“I want a girl.” I said, thinking aloud.

“I want a boy!”

“A boy! I don’t need any more men in this house, let alone a little boy who wants to be a capo mafia, just like his old man,” I said, jokingly.

“Old man, eh?” he laughed his low laugh. He picked me up and started climbing the stairs. “Let’s go upstairs and I will make you think twice about who you call old.”

“We have to be careful!”

“You know I’m always careful, amore,” he smiled and headed to the bedroom with me in his arms.

#luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders one shot

[kitchen-spoon]

Post S3 au:

Secret previous Steddie who fell in love over the summer and had a summer romance.

Starcourt happens but Steve doesn’t make it out. Robin insists he is still alive and wont let it go despite everyone trying to tell her he is gone. Her and Eddie become close bonding through their shared loss of Steve, and their shared determination to find him and refusal to believe he is dead. Robin doesn’t get why Eddie is so invested at first until eventually Eddie comes out to her and reveals he and Steve were dating in a weak moment of devastation where he truly believed Steve was gone and needed someone else to know about what they had.

Meanwhile Steve is still alive and in Hawkins. Well more like under Hawkins, being held captive in a bunker by the Russians as they were too compromised to try and sneak him back to Russia. He isn’t sure why they kept him, how long they are going to keep him, and what exactly they plan on doing with him but he doesn’t want to find out beyond the starvation and daily beatings he has gotten so far. Steve bides his time and eventually escapes causing the gossip mill of Hawkins to once again start spinning.

He is found by Lucas and Mike wandering the roads barefoot and beaten in the rain. This of course causes the whole party to assemble. Steve is happy to be home but its all too much, too many people too loud so he leaves. Sneaks out the bathroom window and wanders his way to Robin’s place. He sits on her front step giving her a wobbly smile when she eventually arrives. He stays with her for a few days but it isn’t a permanent solution trying to hide him from her parents.

So Steve moves into the trailer with Eddie and Wayne. Accept he isn’t really there not like he used to be. Wayne see’s the look in Steve’s eyes and knows it well himself from his time serving. So the Munsons slowly but surely acclimate Steve back into society after his months away.

Its not easy with many bumps in the road but it works.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things ships #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things one shot #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #the party stranger things #stranger things season 3 #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #will byers #jonathan byers #max mayfield #eleven stranger things #jane hopper #dustin henderson #jim hopper #joyce byers #post season 3 #steve harrington needs a hug #steve harrington whump

[daisysliv]

don’t you dare | eddie munson

word count: 1581

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you and eddie have a private moment before going into the final battle against vecna

warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death, light swearing, possible s4 spoilers

notes: vol 2 absolutely broke me so i spent all night writing this and i am insanely proud of it! this has got to be one of my favorite fics that i ever written so i hope you like it as well. as always, not edited so all my mistakes are my own 

library 

stranger things bookshelf

Resting your forehead against his, you gripped his hands tightly between the two of your bodies and lifted them to your lips. Your eyes were screwed shut, scared that if you opened them he would vanish and be replaced with darkness. Because that would mean everything was for nothing. It would mean that Vecna figured out the plan before you could even execute it. It would mean everyone you love dies and you couldn't imagine that; And you didn't want to. 

He released a puff of air, the smell of nicotine on his breath wafting into your nose causing it to scrunch up in disgust. You didn't mind that he smoked but you always demanded he brush his teeth, wash his hands, and spray cologne before going near you. Today, however, you didn't give a damn. 

The possibility of losing him during the battle is too high and you hated it because you couldn't imagine life without him. He’s been your best friend since you were both in your last year of Middle school, seven years he has been by your side, even when you left Hawkins after you graduated to go off to see parts of the world for a year while he stayed behind to redo his Senior year. But only within the last year did you two admit your feelings and start to date. 

“I'm scared.” You admitted, your voice cracking from the lump welling up in your throat. His hands gripped yours tighter as he nodded against your head, signaling that he’s listening. “What if it doesn't work? What if he figures it out and kills all of you? I can't- Eddie, I can't lose you too.” 

Sighing, he removed his left hand from your interlaced hands and held your face gently, the warmth of his skin sending chills down your spine. You nuzzled into the palm of his hand, a soft smile painting your face. His thumb traced over the skin under your eye, and with a similar voice crack to yours he spoke, “I'm not going anywhere, princess.” 

You could tell he was just as scared as you, if not more. The last few days haven't been easy on him and you wished none of it happened. You wished he didn't have to be dragged into this mess but here he was, terrified out of his mind and confused. You kept all this a secret from him for a reason. You didn't want to lose him like you lost your parents to the Mind Flayer last year. You couldn't go through that again. The Upside Down had taken enough from you. 

Opening your eyes, you meet his own, lined with unshed tears, big brown eyes. “You hear me? I'm not going anywhere.” He repeats, his eyes searching yours for something but you don't know what. 

Nodding, you release his hand from your grip and let your hands run through his long, and messy, dark brown curly hair. His eyes close in relief at your touch, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Tongue darting out to wet your dry and chapped lips, you lifted your forehead off of his and drew your hands back into lap, his hand falling from your face to his knee. Staring at the man in front of you, you hope to whatever God there is that Eddie won't be taken away from you. 

“I love you. So much.” You wipe your eyes, the sleeves of your shirt absorbing the fallen tears that stained your cheek. You watch as Eddie’s face switches from terror and worry to shocked and his eyes wide with adoration. While you have been dating for nearly ten months, you have yet to say the three little words that mean so much to you. Saying those words has never been easy for you since your parents never said it to each other, or you much for that matter. It made saying it so much harder because you didn't want to be rejected or found weird for saying them.

When too much time passed between the two of you without a single word being uttered from Eddie, you feel your nerves skyrocket. He was taking too long to answer you and while you could see the love he held for you in his everyday actions towards you and his eyes, you were still scared of possible rejection. By this point, you could feel your heart beating against your ribs so fast you thought it would break through.

You part your lips with the intention to try and backtrack when his hands are cupping your cheeks between them, his cold rings soothing your warm skin.

He laughs softly, his eyes seeming brighter than they have ever been. He’s wanted nothing more than to hear those words from you for as long as he could remember. 

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to hear those words.” His smile was wide, it reached his eyes and you could feel your heart soar. You don't think you've ever seen it so big in the last seven years. He pressed his lips to yours, the taste of cigarettes and the spearmint gum you gave him earlier, floods into your mouth. Giggling against his lips, you can't fight the smile spreading across your own making it difficult to kiss him back. His hands move from your face to your waist, holding your hips gently and pulling you onto his lap, disconnecting his lips from yours. “I love you more than you could imagine. My heart beats for you and you only.” He finally tells you. 

You hands tangle themselves in his hair and you lean in for another kiss when a sharp knock on the bedroom door breaks you two apart. Climbing off his lap, much to both of your dismay, you pull open the door and your heart drops to your feet when you realize it must be time to go. 

You wanted more time. 

“Nancy says you two have five minutes before we need to begin.” He informs you, a solemn look spreading across his features. You can only handle nodding before pushing the closed and leaning your forehead against it, wishing you had more than five minutes. 

You hear the bed frame creak and assume Eddie was adjusting the way he sat until you felt his long arms circle your waist from behind and pull you into his chest. Laying your head back against his chest, you closed your eyes and let your unshed tears fall freely. You hated to be vulnerable but in this moment, with such limited time with the man you loved, you couldn't help it. 

Eddie rested his chin on the crook of your neck, his breath fanning your cheek and you wrap your hands around his, holding him closer to you. 

“Don't you dare die on me tonight, Munson, or I swear to God–” You started off but he cut you off quickly. 

“Stop. I'm not going anywhere, baby.” He whispers into your neck, pressing a kiss just underneath your jaw on your pulse. The feeling of his lips there sent a chill down your back and you let out a quiet giggle. “I will meet you right back here in a couple of hours, I promise you.” 

“Good because I can't do this again. I can't lose someone I love to the Upside Down again. It hurts too much.” You turned his arms but can't bring yourself to look up at him. 

He removes an arm from around your waist to trap your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and lifts your head so you look at him. Eddie looks at you with so much love swirling in his eyes that normally would have you swooning but right now it just made your heart break in two. “Stop talkin’ like that, princess, please. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. Just… hide from him for as long as you can while we do our jobs and save you.” 

“And Hawkins.” 

He chuckled. “Mainly you.” 

“I love you.” You whispered and stood up on your toes to press your lips against his. He responded immediately, his hand on your hip tightening while his other one held your cheek. Your lips moved together with a sense of urgency, speaking all the words you didn't have the time to say. 

Eddie pulled away first, rested his forehead against yours, and closed his eyes. You did the same. 

“It's time.” He murmured. “I wish I could come with you.” 

“Me too, but you're the only one that can play Master of Puppets. I’ll be with Lucas, Max, and Erica, they’ll keep me safe.” 

“They better or I'm kicking their asses.” Laughing, you slapped his chest. 

Seconds pass before reality sets in and you're forced to let each other go, your hands falling to your sides and the smiles fading from your faces. You turn and pull the door open to see Lucas raising his fist to knock. 

“Keep her safe and alive, you hear me Sinclair?” Eddie demands, pointing a finger at the boy. 

“Promise.” 

Turning back to look at your boyfriend, you press one last kiss on his lips. “If you see danger, don't be a hero. I’ll see you in a few hours,” You whispered and disappeared from the room with Lucas so everyone could finish getting ready to fight off Vecna. 

You hoped everyone made it out alive.

notes: if you would like to request something from the prompt list, you can find it here, just be sure to add the numbers, and if it’s angst or fluff! if you want to request something that is not on the list, go right ahead and send in the ask!

add yourself to my taglist!

PERMANENT TAGLIST ( if it's crossed out that means i couldn't tag you )

@prettylittlemoonlight @drayshadow @evanbuckbuckleyhowlett @wildestdreamcatcher @mushroomdemon9 @levylovegood @1-800-prostitutes @AllieAprilKnox @alexxavicry​

STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST

@hehehehannahthings @polarisfae @pinksloosh @mushroomdemon9 @bvmbshell @lilahloopsy @1-800-prostitutes @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @AllieAprilKnox @angelbbygrl @wandamaximoffs-deadchild

EDDIE MUNSON TAGLIST

@polarisfae @wildestdreamcatcher @pinksloosh @spookyconsultingcriminal @mushroomdemon9 @bvmbshell @lilahloopsy @findleynovadachs111 @1-800-prostitutes @wandamaximoffs-deadchild

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things imagine #eddie munson smut #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

The Second I Met You - S.Harrington

Summary- Steve is used to being alone for the holidays until he doesn’t have to be anymore. After befriending Dustin’s old babysitter, Y/N becomes an important part of his life, someone he can’t imagine being without, someone he has loved since the second he met her.

Warnings - Mentions of Steve's shitty parents, Female Reader, Use of Y/N, Steve isolates himself to cope, (let me know if I missed any)

Author's Note - Welcome to Day 2 of my 25 days of fics! I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know about any mistakes in my writing! I want to improve!

Word Count : 1037

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

It was known around Hawkins that Steve Harrington had rich parents, said boy taking advantage of that in high school. However, it wasn’t very known that his parents were not the most present in his life. He never had a good childhood or one that was worth remembering. He never had fun on family vacations when they used to do that because his mother was too worried about his father cheating. So holidays were even worse, he usually spent them alone, getting take out and watching shitty television. He never had any holiday traditions, until Y/N.

Y/N was Dustin’s neighbor and old babysitter, he remembered her from high school, graduating the same year together but he never talked to her. Once Steve had befriended the Henderson boy and his band of misfits, he unintentionally befriended the girl. On top of that, he had befriended Eddie Munson, a boy who he never imagined being friends with.

Y/N had a similar situation to Steve, her parents were never home and she was often alone, however her parents weren’t filthy rich like Steve’s were. So every holiday, she would host all of her friends at her house and have a little holiday party or gathering. So this year for Christmas eve, she had invited all of her friends over to her house for a party.

Her house was on the smaller side so it felt a little cramped with everyone there but they all made do. All of the younger kids were hanging out together in the living room, the couches filled with Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Will, Max and El. The older teens were scattered around the house, Eddie and Gareth talking in the kitchen by the snacks, Robin and Nancy were sitting in the small dining room laughing and Steve was sitting in the backyard away from everyone. He was overwhelmed, going from no plans for the holidays to constant get togethers with his friends. Sure he loved his friends but sometimes he just needed to be by himself, to be alone like he was used to.

He was outside for a good 15 minutes before he heard the door open behind him and shut again. “What are you doing out here all by yourself handsome?” Y/N’s voice rang out behind him.

“Just needed some time alone,” He replied.

“Oh, do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No, I like your company.” She took that as an invitation to sit, so she sat right next to him, their thighs touching.

“You wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Y/N asked him gently, bumping her shoulder into his.

“I don’t really know. A lot, I think I’m just used to being alone so it’s weird to be surrounded by so many people, y’know?”

“I do know. I was so used to being alone especially on the holidays that I became a person I didn’t know. That’s why I started doing these parties. I wanted to be with people I love instead of sinking deeper into my mind and making myself sad,” She explained. 

“That makes sense, so you surround yourself with people you love to make you feel better.” She let out a hum of agreement before resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Stevie, can I ask you something?” She questioned.

“Of course you can.”

“Why do you isolate yourself so much? Don’t get me wrong, I love my alone time but I can’t be alone constantly. Is this an active choice or is it something that just kinda happens?”

“ I think I’m scared of getting hurt, or being used for my parents' money. In a way its both an active choice and something that happens. Like, I love Dustin but sometimes I feel like I’m being used because of my car,” Steve explained, “I feel like I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid. You have very valid feelings, trust me I get it, these rugrats use me for rides constantly too. It’s part of the whole acting like an older sibling to the kids thing.”

The two of them kept talking for a while outside until it got too cold so they went back inside. All of the younger kids went home, Robin and Nancy too just leaving Gareth, Eddie and Steve. Steve usually spent the night at her house after a party because they would usually sit up and talk until the sun came up. The two of them retreated to her room after she told Gareth and Eddie that they could crash at her house if they wanted to, they knew where everything was. 

Y/N and Steve sat on her bed and continued their conversation. She was happy to get some more information about Steve and why he acted the way he does. She understood him better than she thought, they were more similar than they originally thought. She looked at the alarm clock next to her bed, the time ready 1:06 A.M, “Merry Christmas Stevie,” She smiled sleepily at him.

“Merry Christmas beautiful,” He returned a similar grin before letting out a slightly obnoxious yawn.

“Do you have to yawn like that? Like a dying cat?” She joked with a giggle.

“Only to annoy you,” He chuckled back. She laid herself down on her bed, waiting for Steve to follow suit. When he did, she tucked herself into his side, resting her head on his chest and listened to his heart. “Wanna know something?” He asked, she enjoyed hearing the rumble of his voice from his chest.

“Yeah, tell me anything,” She replied, her voice sounding sleepy to him.

“I have always had a crush on you, since the second I met you in the first grade.” She perked up at the confession, sitting up slightly to look in his eye, a smile on her face.

“Really?”

“Yeah really.”

“I’ve felt the same way since the second I met you.”

The two of them settled back into the bed, both of them falling into a peaceful sleep despite Gareth and Eddie playing loud music and laughing loudly in the living room. They both had admitted their feelings, a huge weight getting lifted from both of their shoulders.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #strangerthings #steve stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #stranger things ficlet #eddie munson #dustin henderson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #eleven stranger things #eleven hopper #jane hopper #el hopper #max mayfield

[mayfieldss]

Boyfriend!Mac x fem!reader

"We're supposed to be working." Your voice is muffled on Mac's lips, his kiss covering the words you speak like a blanket. He's a distracting man, and you a distracting woman.

"I know." He mumbles back, hand coming up to rest on your cheek. He also knows if Maddy caught you like this, bodies pressed together down in the phoenix lab, you'd probably be fired. But he can't help but take the risk. He hasn't had time alone with you in weeks, case after case coming through like wildfire. You're just as desperate to be with him, but you have a little more restraint.

"Okay, back to work." You sigh, pressing one final sharp kiss to the mans face. You can see the disappointment in his eyes, and he can probably catch the same in yours, but it's what needs to be done.

"I love you." He says, smile sweetening the words. You give his chest a gentle shove, and head back toward your computer, sliding into your chair.

"Don't try and butter me up MacGyver." He's moved up behind you, hands rubbing your shoulders with the softest affection and he can see your own grin in the reflection of the screen. "But I love you too."

"I knew it." He presses a kiss to the top your head before moving back to his own station, hard at work again. But he'll glance at you every few minutes, hoping to catch your eye. And when he does, he'll fall in love just a little bit more.

MACGYVER TAGLIST: @ash5monster01

#macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #macgyver 2016 #angus macgyver #macgyver fanfic #macgyver 2016 fanfiction #angus macgyver fanfiction #macgyver x reader #macgyver imagines #macgyver one shot #angus macgyver fic #angus macgyver fanfic #angus macgyver x reader #angus macgyver imagine #lucas till #lucas till fanfiction #macgyver x you #angus macgyver x you #macgyver x yn #macriley #jack dalton #riley davis #macgyver 2016 fanfic #macgyver 2016 x reader #macgyver reboot #lucas till x reader #Tristan mays #the phoenix foundation