#My Brain crashes when it comes to backgrounds

[rebelspykatie]

Part 1

Steve kisses him on a Thursday and he takes all the air in the room with him. Eddie doesn’t close his eyes. He’s too shocked to do much of anything, except sit there and let Steve take his face in those big hands and caress a thumb over his cheek while he presses their lips together. Eddie’s pretty sure he doesn’t move at all, glued to his place on the couch, as if time has continued on around him while he’s stuck there.

They’d been passing a joint back and forth, lazily smoking as they watched reruns of some old show that Wayne liked to put on when Eddie was a kid. It’s not soothing now, like it was back then, but is disharmonious in the background, the only sound in the room other than Steve moving against him as Eddie tries to figure out what’s going on.

When Steve finally pulls back, Eddie still doesn’t feel like he’s breathing. He’s able to take in Steve’s expression before his eyes pop open, the pucker of his lips, the shine to them that could possibly be from Eddie’s mouth. He doesn’t know why he didn’t push Steve away, why he didn’t intervene, but instead let Steve have this moment. All while he sat frozen.

The expression shifts once Steve’s eyes open, turning unbearably soft. His smile is sweet and gentle. He’s probably mellowed out from the weed, but his eyes are focused on Eddie. It’s not an expression Eddie’s used to seeing. It’s close to the one he gives the kids when they’re not paying attention, but not quite the same. Steve’s eyes are raking over his face, like he’s trying to memorize the dips and grooves of Eddie’s. He squirms under the scrutiny. 

“Sorry,” Steve finally says, shaking his head a bit, “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” 

He’s turned bashful now. Another expression Eddie’s not used to seeing. His Steve is a sarcastic little shit. He argues with the kids, pulls Robin into wrestling matches that he always wins until Robin starts biting, and carries a nailed up baseball bat in his trunk. Nothing about his Steve is bashful. Except, apparently it is. And something turns in Eddie’s gut. 

He’s made some fatal mistake. Took a wrong turn somewhere and now the car is crashing out of control and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He put that expression on Steve’s face and he doesn’t know how to take it back. 

“Uh-how long?” Eddie asks. He’s not sure why that’s what he says. Morbid curiosity, maybe. But now he’s desperate to know. 

Steve’s jaw shifts, contemplating. “Not sure I had it figured it out then, but probably since you held that bottle to my throat.” 

That seems preposterous. Completely illogical. They barely even knew each other back then outside of the passing monikers slapped on them from their respective cliques in high school. There’s no way that Steve’s wanted to kiss him for that long. 

“Took me a while to pick up on the clues,” Steve laughs self-deprecatingly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve never had to interpret what it means coming from a guy, so I think I deserve a pass on not getting it for so long.” 

He’s smiling at Eddie again. Not quite as bashful, more teasing, like he’s anticipating Eddie teasing back. But Eddie is still stuck on the kiss. His brain hasn’t caught up to the words coming out of Steve’s mouth. He doesn’t know what clues Steve even means. 

“I’m not sure what to say, Steve,” he hesitantly says when the silence has gone on a beat too long. 

“You don’t have to say anything. We could put our mouths to better use, though,” Steve says, leaning in with a devious glint in his eyes that Eddie’s only seen in passing, in the halls of Hawkins High when he tried to ignore Steve pressing Nancy into her locker and kissing the daylights out of her where anyone could see. 

Eddie finally snaps out of his haze and puts a hand on Steve’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. It’s the first time he’s made any move to stop this from barreling out of control. 

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice sounds strained to his own ears, “wait.” 

“Sorry, was that too fast?” Steve scoots back on the couch, putting some distance between them, but not backing entirely out of Eddie’s space. “I should’ve asked if that was okay, shit.” Worry creases his forehead.

“I-” Eddie takes a steadying breath, “I don’t understand why you did it at all.” 

“Why I kissed you?” Steve tilts his head to the side, that curious golden retriever look. “Because I like you.” His brows furrow. “I thought that was obvious.” 

“But you like girls.” It comes out more a statement, than a question. And it makes Steve look even more perplexed, the smile dipping, becoming more muted. “I saw you with Nancy, you weren’t faking that. Unless you have, like, Oscar worthy acting skills, but I don’t think you’re capable of that.” 

“I do like girls, but I also like guys.” Steve shrugs, says it so casually like he has the whole world figured out and he’s unbothered by how insane that tidbit is to just drop on your unsuspecting friend, even after you kiss them. “Robin helped me figure it out. It’s called being bisexual.”

“Yeah, I know what it’s called, Steve.” Eddie huffs, frustrated with the direction of this conversation. They’re clearly not on the same page here and he’s not sure if he should just spit it out. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Steve shrinks back into the couch, tension creeping into his shoulders.

“That you think I’d want to kiss you.” Maybe it’s better to just lay it all out on the table. Set the record straight here. Eddie’s beating around the bush too much. 

“Y-you don’t want to kiss me? But you’ve been flirting with me for months.” 

“I flirt with everyone, it doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Oh.” 

And Eddie watches how quickly the light disappears from Steve’s face. How quickly the smile fades and turns into a twisted frown. Steve pinches his nose and stands up. “I guess we were both wrong, then.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes #angst #that i swear will get resolved #everyone just hold on ok #trust me

[numbbrainstrorm]

Thank you

Tho I still don't like it ( it's a-me problem)

Made two versions bc the combination didn't look good

The human urge to Make a 3D model of him

He looks easy to 3D model

I might try once I get the time to do so

#My Brain crashes when it comes to backgrounds #my brain blue screened #My two brain cells maofactuned #Yes idk how to spell that word #Stfup #transformers #maccadam #tf cyberverse #sky byte #My beloved husband #He looks easy to 3d model

[talaok]

The Pause

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: You and your colleague Javier Peña have never gotten along, but with just a simple proposition that started off as a joke, it turns out you do work well together in some areas.

Warnings: smut| fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, protected p in v sex (ik me writing that they use a condom? Incredible), praising, size-kink, and reader is not shaved (bc lets be honest now yo girl is so over that) 

A roll of the eyes and a loud enough huff... the usual warm greeting reserved for your colleague.

"Good morning to you too" he mocked, raising his head as you sat at the desk in front of him.

"had a rough night?" he continued, wanting nothing more than to see that look on your face when he poked you just enough.

"Well I had a great one" he informed you like you cared, as he lit a cigarette.

"I'm sure you did" you finally spoke "Which one was it tonight? My money’s on Vanessa, you have a sweet spot for her"

He let out a small chuckle, knowing he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

He would have never admitted it out loud, but he loved your daily banter, and even more, he loved your smart mouth.

"Is that Jealousy I hear?"

Now was your turn to laugh "You wish, Peña" you smirked, "the day I'll start being jealous of you and your special friends I'll have officially gone insane"

His eyes slowly analyzed your face, making you feel more uncomfortable than you liked to admit 

" I think it wouldn't hurt you, you know?"

"what?" you sighed, organizing some files somebody had left on your desk during the night.

"a good fuck"

Your eyes shot up to his, a mix of disappointment and annoyance firing out of them.

"Unlike you, I'm not really into paying for it" you tilted your head, watching his hazel eyes closely "and not that it's any of your business, but I'm fine in that department"

"How long has it been?" he asked, like he knew, like he knew he was annoyingly right.

It had been a dry month, hell, a dry year.

"why, are you offering?" you raised an eyebrow, not backing off.

"why... are you refusing?" he mirrored your expression, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

Your breathing slowed, and time stopped for an infinite instant, all the office's noises blurred in the background as wrong, wrong images filled your brain.

like the one where that same mouth draped around that cigarette crashed with your own... or the one where his big, strong hand wrapped around your neck as his breath fanned against your lips, or the one where...

"good morning"

A whimper left your mouth, and as quickly as you tried turning away from Javier, you didn't miss the smug smile growing on his lips, or the way his eyes searched every inch of your face.

Fuck

"Hi Steve" you cleared your throat, praying to whoever was listening that the crimson painting your cheeks would be blamed on the heat.

The blonde nodded at you with a genuine smile as you willed your breathing to even out.

"Messina said two of us gotta go check out something"

"something?" Peña asked

"Yeah apparently there's a guy that might be able to give us some information" Steve shrugged

He said two, didn't he?

The look on Javier's face certainly cleared out any doubts you might have had.

Oh no. no way in hell I'm spending the whole day with him after what happened not even a minute ago.

"I'll stay behind" you blurted out, earning a frown from Steve and an amused grin from Peña.

You weren't fooling him

You were never one to back down on these things. You wanted to go on the field as much as possible, and they both knew that.

"I just-" you muttered, trying to come up with a believable excuse "I have some things I need to finish up here anyway"

If Steve wasn't convinced, he didn't show it, but Javier on the other hand... Javier was looking at you like he could read every single thought crossing your mind.

"alright" Murphy sighed "Let's go then, Peña," he said, giving you a farewell nod before starting down the elevator

Javier lingered for a moment longer, bending much closer than he needed to as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray between your desks.

"Goodbye y/n" he spoke lowly "I'll be back"

and to anyone that would have sounded like a normal thing to say, but to you... to you, it sounded only like a threat.

__ __ __

Turns out you didn't need to lie, turns out that there actually was a lot of shit to do at the office.

The hotline had been buzzing all day, and being that you were the only dea agent available, most calls had to go through you, plus all the reports to go over and the forms to fill... you didn't even realize how much time had passed before Messina startled you as she walked out of her office.

"Goodnight agent" she called, making you glance up from your desk for the first time in the past two hours.

"goodnight" you called absentmindedly, as you took in the office... it was deserted, not one single soul at their desk.

What time is it?

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall to your right

9:30 pm 

9:30 pm?

When the fuck did that happen?

the elevator dinged in the distance as your boss stepped into it.

You must be seeing things, because there's no way in hell... nope, the clock was still telling the same exact time.

"fuck" you exhaled into the empty room, running a hand down the length of your face.

Ok, it's definitely time to go home.

You glanced at the papers on your desk and divided them into two piles, one of them going into your drawer, and the other in Messina's office.

You sighed heavily as you got up, the old chair creaking under your weight.

The click of your heels against the tiles echoed off the walls as you made your way to the Messina's door.

She's not gonna be happy about how many papers she's gonna have to look over in the morning...

You turned the doorknob and the door emanated a soft shriek as you pushed it open.

You walked to the desk and just when you were about to drop those papers on it, a voice rumbled from beside you

"You waited"

You gasped, turning around immediately in shock

"Jesus Christ!" you breathed, realizing who it was "You scared me"

"I'm sorry sweetheart" Javier spoke softly

sweetheart? When did that happen? And when did my body get permission to react this way?

He was leaning on the doorframe, his arm crossed over his broad chest.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, retracting your hand from your hammering heart and finally setting the files on the desk.

"I told you I'd be back" he put simply "We never got to finish our talk this morning"

You swallowed what felt like sand in your mouth,

A part of you, a naive, stupid part of you, was hoping he would have already forgotten about that, but of course, it's Javier F. Peña we're talking about, and when it's about torturing you... you can be sure he'll never forget anything.

"what talk?" you lied through your teeth

maybe miracles are real, maybe he'll just let it go.

He didn't respond, he didn't need to, he saw right through you.

He smirked instead, uncrossing his arms and taking a step towards you.

Now your heart wasn't racing from the scare, this was all him.

You were the only people in the office, hell, the building probably, and he was right there in front of you, looking at you like he could see right through your clothes.

"You paused" he murmured, now towering over you

"What are you talking about?"

Fake it until you make it, right?

"You paused this morning"

You frowned, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about “Listen Peña I gotta go home, so if you-“ you moved out of his way, starting towards the door, but before you could actually exit the room, his hand on your wrist stopped you, making you turn around

“Do you want me to fuck you, agent y/l/n?”

To say heat rushed to your face was an understatement

“What the fuck?” 

“Oh don’t look so surprised, I saw how you looked at me before” he cooed, wetting his lips 

“And how did I look at you?” you shook your arm out of his hold, just for him to get even closer to you, his body now inches away from your own

“Like you wanted me to say just that” he murmured “like you wanted me to bend you over your desk and take you right there in the middle of the office”

A breath got caught in your throat, and as much as you wanted to get out of his penetrating gaze, you couldn't do anything but stare at those endless wells of brown.

I don't know what to say, What the fuck could I say?

The same pleased grin was adorning his lips, and for a moment you pondered whether you wanted to smack or kiss it off of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about" you managed to say, praying you sounded more confident than you actually felt

"c'mon sweetheart" he chuckled "I know you want it" he breathed, ducking closer so he could whisper in your ear as he moved some hair out of your face "A good fuck wouldn't hurt you... you're always so tense"

He drawled out his words like spells

"You're confident for a man who needs to pay women to fuck them"

he smiled amusedly at that

"Is that a challenge?"

"most definitely not" You ignored the shiver running up your spine

he raised his head again so that he could look at you

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, y'know," he said "It would just be two friends helping each other out"

"since when are we friends?"

"fine then" he agreed "Two colleagues"

Was he being serious?

Did I fall asleep at my desk and this is just some fucked up lucid dream?

"c'mon baby" he persisted, his hands finding your waist "I can make you feel real good"

"Peña..." you breathed, trying to get your mind to collaborate and realize what a fucking mistake you were about to make

"yes, sweetheart?" the bastard asked, his voice dropping an octave.

You gulped, cursing yourself internally

There was no turning back, your mind was already made up... and he knew it too.

You glanced out the door.

No one was here,

No one would ever have to know about this.

"If I agree... we'll never speak of this again ok?" you stated "This never happened"

The widest grin you'd ever seen split his face

"You sure about that, baby?" he murmured, "that way..." he brought his right thumb to your mouth, slowly tracing its shape "How will you be able to beg me to do it again?" 

You snorted "please"

"Ok, how about this" he proposed then "I promise to never speak of it again, if after we're done... You can sincerely tell me that that wasn't the best sex of your life"

You laughed again, "fine"

"You can't lie" he reminded you, his mouth now ghosting yours

"I won't" you repeated "Now can you please just-"

"Gladly" he muttered, but before you had time to respond or think of any other rules to impose, his lips were already on yours, and his tongue had slipped into your mouth

He was...hungry

Both his hands wrapped around your waist and he picked you up like you weighed less than a feather.

The squeak you let out was muffled by his mouth, but you somehow managed to wrap your legs and arms around him in the haze.

his hands were on your ass, and the groan he let out didn't even try to hide just how much he liked them there.

You could feel his mustache, taste his cigarettes, and his scent was wrapped around you like a mantel, and god you hated admitting it but it felt good, he felt good

And you were so caught up in everything that your body was feeling for the first time in so long, that you didn't even realize he hadn't stayed still, but in fact, had walked you right in front of Messina's desk and was now sitting you on it.

Oh god

Why did it now just tick that you were in your boss' office?

"changed your mind yet?" 

Javier on the other hand, couldn't have cared less

"From just a kiss?" you teased, cocking an eyebrow

He snickered, parting your legs so he could fit in between them.

His mouth trailed away from yours until it found your ear "Well I am very talented with my mouth" he murmured, before biting your lobe.

You wouldn't have even realized you had moaned if it wasn't for that smug smirk on his face.

"Oh don't worry" he cooed, his mouth now lowering to kiss your neck "I'll show you in a minute"

His lips started a slow, torturous trail down your neck, each peck sending a ripple of warmth to your core, and when his teeth grazed your collarbones, then you couldn't do anything but whimper, as you threw your head back.

You couldn't see him, but you sure as hell could feel that smile on his lips.

Next was your blouse, he took his time gently undoing each button, reserving a kiss for every new inch of skin he uncovered, until the fabric wasn't doing anything to cover up your bra, and all he needed, and hence did, was to get rid of your shirt.

"fuck" he muttered mostly to himself, all his eagerness showing for a moment as he removed your black bra like his life was on the line "Where have you been hiding all this?"

"I haven't been hiding anything, and you know it" you scoffed "I catch you staring at least twice a day"

A soft chuckle fled his throat "Can you blame me?" he asked, his eyes focused on your body "I mean look at you" his hands traveled up your belly until they were cupping your tits "You belong in a museum"

And you knew he had probably said that same line to more girls than you could ever imagine, but the blush on your cheeks rose nonetheless.

But before you had time to lie and ask just how many those girls were, he had ducked and sucked your left nipple into his mouth.

"oh shit" you whispered, hypnotized by the image in front of you.

He caught you staring as he opened his eyes, and just when you were expecting a snarky comment, he only smirked before taking your other nipple into your mouth.

This time you closed your eyes as you moaned just to be safe.

He let go of your skin with a pop, making you whimper.

"Can I take off your skirt sweetheart?"

What is this, a joke?

"mh-mh" you hummed

"All the sudden you don't wanna talk?" he mocked "Use your words baby"

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes 

"Yes, Javier, you can take off my skirt"

A smirk pulled at his lips

"Good girl"

If you were wet before, those two words had now rendered you completely drenched, and that look on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing

His fingers quickly slipped under your skirt, and before you knew it, you were sitting in front of him in only a pair of black panties, and your work heels.

You were breathing as if you'd just run a marathon once he started peeling your panties off of you.

"wait" you suddenly remembered 

"What is it sweetheart?" he stopped

"I-" all the sudden you were embarrassed "I didn't shave"

he looked at you like you'd just told him to go fuck himself

"Baby girl, you're insulting me" he cooed, stoking your sides "You take me for a man who cares about that sort of thing?"

"Oh," you breathed "I just-"

"You got me all wrong sweetheart" he shook his head, slowly kneeling between your knees and gradually taking off your panties in the process.

"god, you're beautiful" he breathed, once you were entirely bare before him.

And again, red crept up your cheeks.

He picked one of your legs up and unhurriedly bent down to kiss you just above your ankle, and then your calves, and then your knee, and then all the way to your inner thigh, until you were screaming internally and your heart was beating faster than you thought humanly possible.

he took his time placing your foot on the chair next to him, so you were spread wide for him, and then did the same thing all over again to your other leg, only changing his routine when he placed your leg on his shoulder instead of the chair.

You were close to hyperventilating.

"Javier..."

"What sweetheart?" he teased, his lips now inches from where your body was begging him to be "You're already desperate?"

"You-You wish" you lied

He chuckled, and the vibrations of his voice went straight to your core, making you whimper

"no?" he taunted, kissing you even closer to your cunt

"no- just-" you swallowed

"what? Tell me what you want baby"

"You know what I want" you begged

"I do, but I wanna hear you say it" he murmured, kissing you just above your pussy "I want to hear you begging me to lick this pretty pussy of yours"

"That's not going to happen" you breathed

He grinned "You sure?" his lips lowered to kiss your clit

"fuck" you moaned with a thread of voice

"You sure you don't want me to?" he asked again, his lips now finding your hole "'cause that would be a damn shame..." he continued, the tip of his tongue now finding your core for just a second "You look fucking delicious baby"

"I-" you stuttered, shutting your eyes "Javier c'mon"

"I want to hear you say it, princess" he smirked, "What's the magic word?"

And fuck him, but you were desperate

"Please" you surrendered "Please Javier just-"

The rest of your sentence died in your throat as he finally dove down, taking your pussy into his mouth.

"Javi" you whimpered, clutching his head to your body with one hand and gripping the desk with the other.

You had never called him Javi a day in your life, but this seemed as good a time as any.

He sucked on your clit first, stretching it into his mouth and going back again and again making you squirm and desperate to come, before starting to devour every other inch of you, licking up and down and swirling his tongue over your nub, getting drunk on your taste.

"Shit- oh my fucking god" you panted, losing every bit of decency you had and grinding against him.

His mustache was tickling your skin, only making you want to moan louder.

Good thing you were the only people left in the office.

And just when you thought it couldn't get any better, two of his thick, long fingers plunged inside of you.

"Fuck-javi!" you screamed

he curled them inside you while he didn't even dream about stopping his work on your clit, and you couldn't do anything but arch your back as a series of obscenities left your mouth.

his other hand came up to palm your breasts and again, a shock of pleasure coursed through you as he added a third finger.

"Oh god- that's-" you moaned "Javi"

You didn't even know what to say, you just knew that you hadn't felt this good or full in far too much, if not ever.

Three fingers of his didn't even compare to the two of yours you had spent months using as some sort of relief.

"I love it when you say my name like that baby" he leaned away for just a moment to say, before resuming his work of art.

"f-fuck" you cried "Javi please"

"What is it sweetheart?" he asked, his fingers pushing in and out of you filling the room with an obscene sound.

You were soaked.

"Javi I think-" You felt your stomach start to shake as the orgasm was about to take hold but... but something wasn't right.

"fuck javi something's wrong I-" you moaned, 

You had never felt like this, it felt like... it felt like you were about to pee.

"I think I'm gonna-"

And before you had time to finish, he pitched your left nipple and a tsunami of pleasure washed you all the way to the shore as your vision went white.

You were sure your moans could be heard from outside of the building.

"Goddamit sweetheart" his deep voice brought you back to reality

You opened your eyes, and he was... he was glistening, and- and that wet spot on his shirt wasn't there before, was it?

"Did I-" Your eyes widened

 You...squirted? You didn't even know you were capable of something like that

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen baby," he said, looking at you as if you'd just turned water to wine "Was this your first time?" 

"yeah" you nodded

A smile spread on his lips as he stood up again 

"You still sure you aren't gonna beg me to do that again?"

"God, I hate you" you breathed

"yeah? Enough to let me fuck you apparently" he murmured, before crashing his lips with yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Shut up" you mustered, before he kissed you once again.

You racked your hands down his chest, fumbling to undo his shirt's buttons.

thank god he didn't wear a tie today

Once his shirt was off with his help, you let your hands move down his body until they found the bulge in his tight jeans.

"fuck" he groaned, as you palmed him through the fabric.

His belt was even harder to take off.

"Eager sweetheart?" he cooed, undoing his belt for you, and while he was at it, unzipping his pants.

"Shut up"

He smirked that same smug smirk he seemed to have stapled to his lips "We'll see who'll be the one who won't be able to talk in a minute" 

"I'm not sucking your dick, Peña"

"That's not what I'm talking about baby" he murmured, getting rid of his pants and boxers at the same time.

Your gaze lowered and- oh shit

"fuck" you muttered, not even realizing you had

He chuckled, his chest raising with his voice "What? Too big for you?" he mocked, kissing your cheek before trailing his mouth to your ear "Don't worry, I'll go slow just for you, sweetheart"

Your mouth was still agape, but you were finally able to tear your glare from his member.

"Do you-" you swallowed "Do you have a condom?" you remembered.

In no time he materialized one from the pocket of the jeans pooling at his feet.

"Of course" you huffed out a laugh.

He didn't pay you any mind you as he rolled on the condom, and you watched the motion, mesmerized by... well, by how big he was.

He caught you red-handed, and his grin only widened.

"Open your legs for me sweetheart" he ordered, and something in his tone made you oblige immediately.

He positioned himself at your entrance, taking his dick in his hand and sliding it between your folds.

"fuck" you moaned softly, closing your eyes

"I want you to look at me" he stopped you, "You look at me when I'm inside you, baby"

You hesitated a moment before doing as told, looking into his lust-filled eyes.

"Good girl" he praised you, before finally entering you.

"Oh my god" you moaned at the stretch.

"That was just the tip sweetheart" he smirked, pushing himself even deeper.

Just the tip?

You looked to where your bodies were meeting and, to your dismay... he was right

How is that all gonna fit?

"It's gonna fit" he read your mind, retracting his hips just to thrust himself deeper "You're gonna take it all like a good girl y/n" he murmured against your mouth, as his fingers found your clit "and then when I'm done with you" he forced his cock into you again making you quite literally scream "you're gonna feel so sore you're gonna remember me every time you take a step"

And with that, he drove his whole dick into you, making you bite your own lip so hard you could almost taste blood.

"God you feel good" he groaned, starting to find a slow pace "so fucking tight for me sweetheart"

"fuckfuckfuckfuck" was all you could cry out into the air

it was so big

and so deep

"I know" he cooed, kissing your neck, before fastening his pace.

"Javi!" you screamed, one of your hands going to grip his shoulder to keep you anchored to this world.

It was nothing like anything you'd ever felt. You could feel him everywhere, taking hold of every single part of your being.

"Look at you" he murmured, kissing ur lips again, even if they were parted as you gasped for air "Taking it so well" he cooed, his fingers resuming their work on your clit "Being such a good girl for me" he continued, his breath fanning against your mouth "letting me use this pretty pussy of yours" he groaned, as you sucked him right in "drenching me with all your juices" he growled "so so good"

"javi please" you moaned

"do you even know what you're begging for?" he asked "Or are you so cock drunk that brain of yours has stopped working?"

"I-" You tried to come up with a comeback, but all you could do was whine and whine and then whine again.

 "fuck" was now his turn to moan "babygirl you feel so fucking good"

"Javi"

"Yes say my name sweetheart" he thrust into you more harshly now, more deeply even somehow "Scream it"

"Fuck-javi!"

"just like that" he nodded, looking you right in your eyes as he split you in fucking half "Just like that baby"

"Javi I'm-" you whimpered, not able to find the words

"You're coming sweetheart?" he found them for you "You gonna drench me again?" he asked mostly himself "No you need to have it licked to do that, don't you?" he realized "fuck I can't wait 'till you'll let me have a taste again"

"oh my god" you moaned, as pure ecstasy ran through your body "Fuck I'm-"

"come all over me baby" he urged, grunting with every one of his deep fucking thrusts "Be a good girl and come on my cock"

And that was all you needed, that's all you heard before you were screaming his name as loud as you could, letting him drill you into another earth-shattering orgasm.

"fuck" he groaned, just after you were done, "fuck-y/n" was all he could muster before he too, had the best orgasm of his life.

it took a moment before any of you got enough breath in your lungs to do anything but stare into each other's blown-out pupils.

"So?" he asked, not even bothering to pull out

Part of you was still wondering if this was a dream, and the fact you couldn't feel most of your body certainly didn't help

"You know" you rolled your eyes

He smirked "I do know, but I wanna hear you say it"

"Yes, alright?" you admitted

"Yes, what?"

fuck. me.

"Fine" you sighed "Yes, Javier, it was the best sex of my life"

And again, his grin only got wider "Good" he said "'cause it was mine too" he gave your lips another quick peck "and there's no way we're not doing it again"

#javier peña #narcos #javier peña x reader #javier peña x fem!reader #javier pena narcos #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #narcos x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #javier peña x female reader #javier pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #smut #joel miller #the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

change my mind - ln4

summary: inspired by 1D's song of the same title - are we friends or are we more?

warnings: f!reader, hints at anxiety and insomnia, that vegas crash, angst, miscommunication (it gets solved dw), swearing, maybe a little bit of awkwardness, fluff. also feel like it drops off towards the end so i might have to come back and edit it at some point

word count: 9.7k

Since the crash it felt as though you’d been holding your breath. Right from when the camera on the straight seemed to jolt from an unexpected impact; on the way to the medical centre; in the car to the hospital. In fact, it only felt like you’d released that breath when Lando had given you the key to his hotel room and you’d shut it behind you.

Then, and only then, it felt like you could breathe.

Your head thudded against the door, the view of The Strip visible even from where you were stood – the neon lights were difficult to miss in the night, even more so when the entire room was still shrouded in darkness. You inhaled through your nose, ensuring to fill your lungs with some much needed air, before breathing it out through your mouth.

Your heart was still racing, something squeezing in your chest, and the exhaustion seemed to blanket you in that very moment, your brain constantly replaying the sounds and the mangled sight of his car. It seemed intent, however, on showing you flickers of his face as he’d climbed out of the Medical Car, trying not to wince at the ache in his bones as his Dad pressed him into a hug or as any part of him made contact with the hospital bed. 

In all honesty, you didn’t think you’d ever been so anxious before. Those paralysing seconds where the only thing heard on the radio was static just seemed to have occurred so long ago, but that one moment seemed to cement the dread poured into your chest from then on.

Until now, until he’d given you the key to his room, until your eyes seemed to find all the McLaren paraphernalia and kit thrown carelessly over the back of chairs, on hooks, folded neatly inside a suitcase. Then all of the tension you’d harboured, not wanting to overstep or interrupt the medical exams just to ask him if he was okay, to hold his hand – you weren’t even sure if the latter was for his sake or yours.

You sighed, pushing yourself off the door and flicking on the lights. The mess was even worse in the light, and it wasn’t just limited to McLaren merch – there were undies and socks (it was unclear if they were clean, and you weren’t about to figure that out) scattered about, random pairings of t-shirts and joggers near the open suitcase, but not in it.

You rolled your eyes, putting your bag on the desk, and reaching for the TV remote to switch on the F1 TV channel as background noise. You didn’t really know why he’d given you his key, but you supposed it could have had something to do with the look on your face, or how your hands had been a little shaky, or how you’d barely spoken a word to him – not for lack of him trying or anything: Lando had actively tried to ask you questions, but with all the medical staff and McLaren members surrounding him, that task had been a little difficult.

And the first thing that had sprung to mind when you’d stepped into the lift up to his room was to run him a bath because after that rather bruising session, it was probably the best soother, but now that you’d been faced with this absolute calamity (you’d seen teenage boys’ rooms tidier than this), you weren’t entirely sure how you could not at least help him pack – to an extent. 

Clearing the space off the floors and making sure he slept in a bed not made out of his own clothes was a start.

You shrugged off your jacket and hung it on the back of the door before stepping over some clothes and opening the bathroom door. You’d prepared to be met with more remnants of a burgled wardrobe, but contrary to the living space, there was nothing in the bathroom except a Spider-Man wash bag – potions and lotions neatly stacked inside. 

There were some bottles in the corner shelf in the tub, the hotel logo branded on the front, and after running the tap until the water started to get warmer, you put in the plug and poured in some foam before returning back to the living space.

Your eyes immediately seemed to zip to the TV above the desk, Ted Kravitz wandering down the paddock talking to someone holding a framed photo of…Valterri’s bum. You blinked, automatically moving to the kettle and flicking the switch on.

Coffee was a must for you to stay awake longer.

And it was then that you started to pick up some clothing off his floor, collating the articles on top of his bed and you’d made it through three quarters of the entire pile when the buzzer for the lock on the door went off. 

It was Lando. Decked in a jacket definitely not his own, with the way it seemed to dwarf him: the sleeves had been haphazardly pushed up his forearms, probably to make use of his hands, and the body of the jacket hung past his hips. 

When he turned to face the room after locking the door behind him, his eyes seemed to stick first on the empty floor before trailing to you, something soft. He had bags under his eyes, and you could tell he’d been wearing headphones in the meeting because his hair had flattened slightly in the middle.

You didn’t move from where you’d sat, but from the unreadable expression on his face and the way he seemed to hesitate, it had you questioning whether he’d intended for you to still be in his room when he came back – but then he wouldn’t have given you the key, surely?

His lips twitched, and that second-guessing seemed to vanish completely at his lame attempt to smile for you – even though it was clearly forced with the entire whirlwind of the entire race, but there was a hint of authenticity because of the softness in his eyes, and without even meaning to, you felt a smile begin to creep on your own face.

At that, he seemed to gain movement in his legs, and made his way to the desk, head snapping up to the TV for a brief second, before shedding the jacket and putting his key down.

It was his sluggish movements that seemed to have that knot of anxiety punching its way through your stomach once more (it had dwindled somewhat when he’d walked through the door), and you inhaled somewhat sharply, “Are you okay?”

It was the first word you’d spoken out loud, and the roughness of your voice seemed to shock both of you, because you blinked, and he spun on his heel, eyebrows raising. You felt yourself wince, and you swallowed out of instinct–

“Just a bit achy–Can you stand up a second, I just–” He sighed, cutting himself off and stepping forwards.

You furrowed your brows, placing the shirt in your hands on the bed, and doing as he said, and it was barely a second when–

Oh.

He’d almost instantly tugged you into him, his arms settling across your shoulders,  his chin tucked against your temple. He was warm and soft, even despite the hard ridges you knew existed under his fireproof shirt. Something felt off, though, and it was with a hurried hum that you realised you hadn’t reciprocated it.

It was a bit of a shock, being hugged by Lando so tightly, so close. Even more so because neither of you had ever really touched before; there’d been the odd shoulder brush when you’d been standing next to each other, the odd purposeful hand touch when one of you had slapped the other’s out of the way – but it had never been this: his chin touching your temple and his hands strong across your back and shoulders, pulling you as close to him as he could manage.

And then you seemed to regain sense in your arms because you automatically seemed to reach one arm across his back and the other slung across his waist, head tilting a little upwards to somewhat nestle itself into the crook of his neck.

If you were being honest, hugs weren’t usually your kind of thing, but you could tolerate (a tad of an understatement) it from Lando, even in his post-three-lap-stint and slight stench of sweat. 

You stayed like that for a while, the knot in your chest easing gradually now you’d got your hands on him, and by the time he spoke up, disrupting the peace that you’d managed to find, you felt like you had to blink yourself awake, “Feel better now. I’m sorry I ruined your first race.” He mumbled, stomach tensing as he spoke.

You took a moment, “You didn’t ruin it–”

“I did.”

You pulled yourself away from him, but almost like he’d practised it, his hands clasped onto yours, preventing you from moving too far away, and he brought them up to around shoulder height between you both, his fingers twiddling with yours to distract himself, “Well, then, I forgive you.” You shrugged.

His hands were slightly rough to touch, and a little colder than yours, and you tried not to let the absentminded way he was playing with your hands cloud your brain because it was distracting, especially with the way his thumb seemed intent on stroking repetitive patterns across the back of your hand. Not to mention the way his eyes seemed to flit between your mouth and your eyes, as though he wanted to watch you speak and commit it to his memory, as you spoke.

It sent your blood thrumming a little.

He nodded slowly, as though he was digesting your words, but he took too long to say something else so you said the other thing that had been on the tip of your tongue, “I’d have lost interest in it anyway, ‘cos you weren’t driving.”

He smirked at that, “No you wouldn’t have.”

He was right – to an extent. The only positive about the Vegas track was that the drivers were racing in the Championship and sport you’d been following closely for years. But other than the investment in the championship, that was about where your interest in that specific race ended – with Lando’s crash. 

“Well, I’d have rather gone with you than sit in your garage without you on-site.” You admitted, honesty dripping from every word, “Especially because I probably wouldn’t have known if you were okay if I stayed.”

He swallowed, your eyes unconsciously watching his throat bob, “How come?”

You pulled your joined hands down, shrugging and avoiding eye contact in order to actually gain the courage to say what had immediately come to mind. 

Why was it so difficult for you to actually say what you felt? God forbid you actually want to let him know what he meant.

“You’re important and I care about you.” You rushed out, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously. 

When he didn’t say anything you pulled your hands out of his and were about to change the entire conversation back to the bath you’d run him when his eyes crinkled out of the corner of your eyes. He had one of those cheeky smiles on his face, like he was aware he probably shouldn’t have been smiling like that at that moment in time, but thinking that only seemed to make him worse. And when you fully turned to look at him again, you were struck with the thought that you’d never known anyone to smile with their entire being like Lando Norris seemed to do unfailingly and everyday.

His happiness was just so infectious that it was part of the reason you liked him so much – but it also made you want to…protect it, you guessed. And when he stopped smiling earlier, after you’d been told to meet him in the medical centre, the world seemed to shake, because he was very rarely ever smiling.

He didn’t stop smiling, even when you looked straight at him, not impressed with his silence in the slightest and huffing to let him know.

“What?” You asked, one eyebrow raised and slightly self-conscious of what you were doing and wearing and what you probably looked like after the day you’d had.

He shrugged, shaking his head, smile never drooping one bit, “You care about me.” 

It wasn’t a question, more so a statement of shock – repetition to drill it into his head.

You nodded, swallowing, slightly embarrassed at having to say it again, “Yeah.”

He nodded this time, pushing himself onto his tiptoes for a second, “I care about you too. You’re important to me.”

You won’t deny that your heart did a little skip at his words, or that your cheeks threatened to blossom with heat, or that hearing him say those words to you didn’t send your pulse spiralling a little out of control.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, being this vulnerable to someone not related to you. It was weird, but because of who it was and because of the circumstances, it felt oddly right.

“That’s nice.” You muttered, crossing your arms and avoiding looking at him.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. It wasn’t as though he’d confessed his undying love for you or anything, but it was nice to hear. You knew where you stood with him.

“It is.” He agreed.

There was a beat of silence, and you took the liberty of changing the subject before it could get too awkward too quickly, “I ran you a hot bath, by the way. It felt like the right thing to do after….”

“Thank you.” His tone was a little sombre, but still every bit sincere. A cloud seemed to hang over the both of you for a second, “Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you when everything went–”

“You don’t have to keep apologising.” You breathed, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and resuming some folding to give yourself something to do.

“But I do–”

“Shut the fuck up.” You laughed a little, immediately dropping your expression to correct yourself, “With respect.”

Lando smiled a little at that, “If you insist, but–” You groaned, rolling your eyes, “I just want to check in and make sure I didn’t scare you, y’know, would you still come to another race?”

You blinked, “Course I would.” 

There wasn’t really a doubt about it. The scare of the day had worn off in the span of your conversation, it was just that period of not knowing, and the fact that a TV screen didn’t do the cars justice in the speed. They went so much faster than you initially expected.

“Good.” Then, “Are you okay, though?”

“Yeah, it was just a lot, that’s all. Like, the impact, the broken car, then you were talking about everything that hurt but somehow you weren’t injured? I don’t know.” You sighed in resignation, “Do you ever get scared in the car?”

He seemed to think about it for a moment, “The day I get scared is the day I stop driving. Fear in the car makes you crazy.”

“What about when you lose control and you know you’re gonna crash out?”

You watched him closely as his throat bobbed and he slowly stepped over to the bathroom doorframe, leaning against it to look at you thoughtfully, “There’s definitely a moment where my heart sort of skips a beat, kind of like when you miss a step on the stairs, but the adrenalin doesn’t really let me get scared at that moment. It’s scary when I watch it back and realise if I’d have been a metre or so closer I might not be here. But I don’t like thinking about it if it doesn’t happen.”

You paused the folding, “When you said your heart does that skip, can you think or is your mind just blank?”

“Blank. It happens so fast. I know I have to move my hands, though, but I think that’s partly just instinct driven into us from when we were kids. I don’t really have to think about that, but–” He pulled a face, running a hand over his chest and huffing a laugh, “If it’s fast I’m thinking ‘fuck, this is gonna hurt’.”

That made you laugh.

Then he looked over his shoulder and you stood up, taking the hint.

“Wai–What’re you doing?” He stood up straight, watching as you made your way over to the desk to pick up your bag.

You pulled a face, pointing to the door, “I’m gonna go, and you’re gonna have a bath.”

“No.” He shook his head defiantly, walking over to you with a frown on his face.

You blinked, “Yes.”

“No.”

“I didn’t realise that when bathtime was mentioned that you’d stomp your foot and pout at me.” You smothered a smile behind your hand, eyes sparkling with amusement as Lando went to defend himself, only to realise that he had in fact reverted to pouting (as far as an adult man could when sulking).

“No.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I thought you might stay over tonight?”

You froze. Then promptly unfroze, “Why?”

“For a sleepover, I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think—” You halted, taking in the way his face seemed to fall slightly, “Do you want me to stay?”

You didn’t not want to. You’d admit that much to yourself. The idea of sharing a bed with someone you trusted platonically and had a crush on was about as appealing as the guaranteed night of uninterrupted sleep (that didn’t run the risk of being crushed, someone breathing heavily in your ear, or someone talking in their sleep). 

The corner of his mouth twitched as he tilted his head, “I’d like for you to stay, but I want you to say you want to stay because you want to, not just because I want you to and you feel obligated to stay.”

You took another step forward, about to say yes, before he interrupted again.

“Um–” His voice was slightly high in pitch, a sure sign that he’d begun to panic slightly, but before you let him succumb to (clear) disappointment (it did wonders for your ego) and potentially embarrass himself, you cut over him.

“I’m gonna go get my PJ’s–” he grinned, “and then I’ll come back here–” began taking off the legs of his racing suit, “for a sleepover, or whatever, sound good?”

“Sounds incredible, darling.” He winked, throwing you a charming smirk that had you standing in the doorway (for longer than what was probably deemed appropriate to gather yourself), and he turned into the bathroom, disappearing from sight. 

***

Walking back into Lando’s room with wet hair, a clean face, the PJ’s you’d packed (not expecting a sleepover), your current book, and a hotel robe, all felt very intimate. It might have had something to do with the fact that you knew he’d also be freshly washed with wet hair and wearing his PJ’s and in bed — waiting for you.

And when you rounded the corner after buzzing yourself in, Lando was sitting against the headboard, one arm slung over the top of his head and his other hand clutching his phone. He must have been anticipating your arrival if the way he threw his phone further down the covers was any indication, and the way he smiled at you, dimples on show and everything, had you turning to avoid looking at him and hanging the robe over the back of the bathroom door.

The boy is too cute.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He grinned, unconsciously rubbing a palm down his arm and still maintaining a mischievous smile. 

“It’s almost like we planned it.” You threw over your shoulder before climbing onto the bed.

He breathed a laugh, “Almost. Cute PJ’s, by the way.” He trailed his eyes meaningfully down your figure as you threw the duvet over yourself, getting comfy.

You’d not packed sexy PJ’s by any means. In fact, you hardly owned a proper pair of pyjamas, and rather just threw on a random t-shirt with whatever bottoms were comfiest and warmest, hence the fact you’d packed a pair of faux-boxer shorts and were wearing a Quadrant Bleach tee that Ria had given you a while ago.

“Rumour has it you couldn’t decide what merch to give me so Ria took it into her own hands.” You gestured to your shirt, smiling rather pointedly in his direction. He squirmed a little, and it was then, as he curled in on himself slightly, that the duvet fell around his torso from where it had been pulled right up to his chin to keep a draught out. 

He was fucking shirtless. And when that seemed to register in your head and through your eyes, you were squirming. His pecs, bronze skin and moles were on view and you suddenly had no clue how to act.

Luckily for you, Lando seemed to have the same problem for whatever reason.

“Yeah. I had one of pretty much everything lined up for you, but it wouldn’t have been ‘financially viable’ apparently.”

Oh. You felt your brows shoot up in pleasant surprise.

“I didn’t know that.” 

“That was the point.” Lando said, rather self-deprecating, “It looks good on you, though.”

A ‘thank you’ was on the tip of your tongue, but before it could slip out, your brain seemed to take on another direction, one much bolder than what was characteristic of you, “I don’t know, I think LN4 stuff’d look nicer.”

It shocked him as much as it shocked you — that much you could tell by the way that his eyebrows seemed to disappear under the damp curls that had hung across his forehead from where he’d clearly initially combed them backwards. His mouth seemed to drop a little, and his cheeks reddened.

But you barely had time to school your own face into one of confidence to fully own what you just said before he was spurting words out himself.

“Wanna test that theory?” 

And he was climbing out of bed before you could even utter a word of protest.

You’d never been so thankful that he didn’t have eyes at the back of his head because when he took a step away from the bed, clad in nothing but black boxer briefs that clung almost maddeningly to his thighs, you practically had a heart attack. It was hard to rip your eyes away, if you were being honest.

But the very second he turned back to face you, throwing a long-sleeved tee in your direction, you somehow managed to look at him without even a smidge of blush on your face or without wearing an expression that assembled one of sheer awe.

Then you blinked and the t-shirt was hitting you in the face. It was a black 100 Race one.

A new one.

And because it hit you in the face the first thing you noticed was the smell. Now, Lando Norris was not a smelly person, at all. In fact, that t-shirt smelled so unfairly divine that you wanted to eat it. Melt it into a smoothie and drink it. In a normal way.

You had it in your hands and were looking pointedly at Lando for about seven seconds until he got the hint to turn around and close his eyes.

In return for his previous goodwill, you threw the Quadrant shirt at his back and climbed out of bed to assess it in the mirror. It was a slightly smaller fit than the other t-shirt, so it didn’t hang past your hips, or over your hands like you’d expected.

Oddly enough, it was almost a perfect fit.

Lando walked into the background of the mirror, catching your eye as he nodded appreciatively.

“Better than Bleach?” You asked, pushing the sleeves up to your elbow before climbing back under the covers.

His answer was him folding the Bleach t-shirt neatly and placing it on the desk.

“Way better.” 

There wasn’t anything said for a while after that. Lando got back under the covers, snuggling down into his pillow and browsing through his phone, while you opened your book and kept your bedside light on to read for a while.

Until Lando seemingly couldn’t take the silence and turned his phone off, rolling towards the middle of the bed on his front and looking up at you.

He was content on letting you read for a while, eyes fluttering shut every now and again as though he was trying to fight sleep, when he muttered something under his breath.

“Sorry?” You bent your head, finishing reading the sentence before turning to see him blinking slowly, lashes kissing his cheeks as he rested his face against his elbow.

“Do you read every night?” He repeated, not in the least bit offended you weren’t paying him attention.

You hummed, nodding, slouching further into the mattress.

“How come?” He asked, fingers stretching to gently twiddle a small section of your hair before dropping it.

“I have trouble sleeping sometimes, and reading helps.”

“How?”

You shrugged, “It gets my brain to shut up.”

“Does anything else help?” He mumbled, eyebrow twitching.

You wanted to say yes. That some other things could help, but for one, you didn’t have the results to back up that claim, and two, you weren’t about to suggest trying it to Lando.

“I don’t think so.” 

Lando hummed and didn’t say anything else, giving you the opportunity to switch off your bedside lamp, shrouding the whole room in darkness. Despite the coolness of the Vegas nights, the heat of another body under a duvet was enough to send your skin tingling with goosebumps and bury yourself deeper under the covers.

A gentle tugging on your hair once you’d settled was what had your eyes opening.

You hadn’t really been trying to sleep, per se, but Lando hadn’t so much as moved a muscle since you’d switched off the light, and his silence had you assuming he’d been trying to sleep, at least until his fingers had delicately begun twisting your damp hair.

If you hadn’t found it so shocking, it would have been soothing.

It took a while for your eyes to adjust, but once they did, all you could make out was the faint outline of Lando’s head and the gleam of his eyes from the light from The Strip.

Your eyes immediately scrunched shut, unable to tell if he thought you were asleep.

Then—“pretty” he breathed, your heart stuttering wildly in your chest.

He thought you were sleeping.

And he stopped twirling your hair, nestling his cheek into the pillow.

***

You woke up early and with Lando’s arm slung lazily across your waist, one of his legs stuck across yours. You froze momentarily, not having any recollection of exactly when you’d both ended up with him half draped over you, but considering you couldn’t remember much after hearing his whisper, you assumed you must have just gone right to sleep.

Which meant this happened in the night.

You tilted your head fractionally, eyes slipping over to where Lando was now on his stomach, cheek squished right into the pillow and a crease between his brows. 

And then that short moment was interrupted by something uncomfortably occurring in your chest.

Your free hand (the other was sandwiched between your hip and Lando’s, nicely toasty of you did say so yourself) blindly reached for your bedside table, scrabbling at an uncomfortable angle until you found your phone. It took a while to manage to slide it across the wood for you to pick it up, and you groaned at the time displayed on the screen.

08:31.

You didn’t need to leave for the airport for another twelve hours, and had already mostly packed in your room. The only issue apart from your current predicament was the rumbling of your stomach, prompting some encouragement to get out of bed.

Which you absolutely did not want to do.

It was warm and you were being cuddled by a sleepy Lando, you weren’t about to risk waking him up. Even though it was your first race, you knew how exhausted he usually was the day after.

So you opted for scrolling on your phone, not before removing your hand from between you both and instead using it to hold the forearm he’d thrown over your waist.

The hotel corridors started to get a little noisier, doors shutting and opening, footsteps thumping, at around half nine/ten o’clock.

It must have been the neighbouring slam of the door that had Lando jolting awake — jumping as though he’d been thrown down the stairs in a dream. You stifled a laugh, trying not to smile at his rapid blinking, until his eyes settled on you, brows accusatory when he realised you were on the brink of laughing at him.

He groaned, slamming his face back onto the pillow and yawning, his arm briefly tensing as he stretched.

“How long have you been awake?” He mumbled, tilting his head so as to not muffle his words against the pillow.

“About an hour.” 

He frowned, removing his arm from your hold and flipping himself onto his back, yawning, “How come you didn’t wake me up?”

You blinked, “Because it was half eight and you were asleep.”

He nodded, scratching the back of his head, “You hungry?”

“Yeah. You want to get breakfast downstairs, or–”

“Room service is good with me.” 

Lando turned to hide his smile as he reached for the phone. Selfishly he wanted to stay in bed longer – the outside world was chilly – and there was the added bonus that you were there. Obviously he’d want more time with just the two of you, because outside this room, you guys barely got time for a conversation without being interrupted.

That was excluding the scheduled takeaways you both had every time he was back in town (it had started out as a joke because you were both so busy and no one seemed to be able to decide on specific dates, so you’d taken it into your own hands and…here you were), and he suspected that was when the more serious feelings started.

So, no, he’d rather not go downstairs where other people would interrupt and he’d barely get to talk to you.

“D’you know what you–What’re you doing?” He furrowed his brows,, about to hand you the menu when he stopped short of everything and watched you wander over to the front of the room.

Out of bed. Wearing his shirt.

Looking fucking incredible.

And he was thinking he could probably get used to this.

But his brain was going haywire because he didn’t want you to leave.

You said nothing, which did virtually nothing to ease his sense of panic, until you held up the TV remote, running a tired hand through your hair before tiptoeing back to the bed and sliding back under the covers like you belonged there.

“No.” You hummed, taking the menu from him and simultaneously flicking through the TV guide for something to watch.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” He found himself asking, noting the still-sleepy look about you – but not necessarily the bad kind of sleepy. You looked well-rested with rosy cheeks and bright eyes.

Pretty.

“Yeah. It was cosy.” You flashed him a warm smile, eye contact brief before going back to the menu, “What about you?”

“I’ll probably just have pancakes–”

“No,” you breathed a laugh, “Did you sleep well?”

Oh. He could feel his cheeks redden at the mistake, and nodded. In truth, he didn’t think he’d ever slept so well, even despite being a small bundle of nerves from the mere knowledge that you’d actually changed your mind and said yes to a sleepover, and the fact that you were less than three feet away. That was ignoring when he’d woken up to find out you’d been awake for so long and not wanted to wake him up or move him from where he’d (rather sheepishly) managed to hug you in his sleep.

“Cosy.” Was all he said, taking the menu back from you, “What’ll it be for you?”

“Pancakes, too, please.” You grinned at him, turning back to the TV.

He nodded, numbly reaching for the phone on his bedside table and rattling off the order, making sure to add in a glasses of milk and orange juice to accompany it.

When he’d finished and turned back to the TV, to you, there was a question written on your face as you pointed to the TV.

The Hangover.

“When in Vegas, right?” You asked, raising a brow and awaiting his answer.

He’d seen that movie a million times, had even watched it on Thursday (he’d never tell you that), but there was something about the hope and excitement written on your face that had him nodding along, not wanting to disappoint you this early in the morning.

God, he felt so bad when he crashed yesterday. 

Not only had he ruined the race experience for you, but he’d worried you. You hadn’t even needed to say anything after the whole debacle (he hadn’t actually given you a real answer when you’d asked him why he wanted you to come with him to the hospital and whatever) for him to read it on your face. 

He’d had every intention of whispering reassurances and holding your hand or doing something to have you closer than the edges of a constant small crowd, but he’d been strapped down and people had been talking over each other, and he just hadn’t had the chance.

Until the car ride back to the paddock. Sure, Jon was sitting next to him, but he’d kindly and rather respectfully chosen to ring Zak and give him an update, and then Lando took that brief moment of opportunity to hold your hand. He didn’t say anything, but almost as soon as his hand had touched yours he felt better – lighter. And he noticed that the weight on your shoulders and the crease between your brow lessened.

He sighed wistfully, tuning back into the film, but it was barely five minutes later when there was a knock on the door.

Room service.

He stopped you from moving, taking it upon himself to answer the door (he couldn’t tell if he was imagining it or not, but he swore he could feel your eyes on him as he walked past the end of the bed).

He cracked the door open, eyes on the floor where he expected the tray to be, only to look down and see a pair of trainers that most definitely belonged to Max.

His eyes shot up, and he hid himself behind the door, careful of you back around the corner, but wanting to shield himself from any passerbyers in the corridor – a photo of him answering the door in nothing but his undies would be pretty embarrassing – and glared at his friend, confusion clearly evident on his face.

Max was grinning like a madman, trying and failing to sneak a look behind Lando, “So?” He whispered, and Lando felt himself already getting irritated at the clear insinuation of that one singular word.

“No.” He answered, closing his eyes briefly and resting his temple against the door.

Max was quiet, “No.” He repeated, an element of disbelief etched on his face.

“No.” Lando groaned quietly, “Is that all?”

“No.” Max hissed, “Why not?”

Lando felt himself shrug, “Didn’t come up.”

Max blinked, rather frustrated, “You were supposed to make it come up.”

“Well I didn’t.”

“Clearly.” Max folded his arms across his chest and Lando rolled his eyes, “How come you’re only wearing your boxers?”

Lando looked down, brows furrowing, “What’s wrong with boxers?”

“The lack of other clothes? You always wear PJ’s.” Lando watched as the penny dropped in Max’s head, his eyes widening and his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. Then he frowned, “Show off.”

Lando shook his head, “And what about it? I just wanted to be sure.”

“And are you?”

Lando chose not to say anything, just threw a cautious look behind his shoulder – one which prompted Max to jump to his reassurances.

“She does, okay?” He whispered softly, a pitiful look on his face, “I know that because of the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. She cares about you, man.” There was a pause, and Lando was too nervous to even look straight at Max, so he chose to focus on a spot above his head, completely missing the way Max hesitated, “She told P.”

Lando felt his neck practically snap to look at Max, nervousness completely abolished. His heart started thrumming with anticipation and the only thing he was capable of doing was staring so hard at Max the man’s skin prickled, “What?” Lando breathed, hoping he hadn’t just heard things in a mad craze.

Max screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t be telling you this–”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Hagrid, but the situation is kinda dire here.” Lando cut in.

Max rolled his eyes, “Yeah, it’s kinda hard not to notice you’re a fucking chicken.”

“I’m on the brink of an anxiety attack.” 

“Get a grip.” Max glared, half wanting to smack some sense into Lando and the other half wanting to laugh at the petrified look on his face.

“I can’t.” Lando threw the door open a little further out of frustration, hands going to grip Max’s shoulders in desperation.

Max breathed. He blinked. And then Lando thought he made an expression that looked as though he’d just suffered the most painful bout of trapped gas, “Don’t tell anyone–”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

“But P told me that they had a girls night with Ria, and they got to talking about guys, and P asked her if she had her eye on anyone and she got all blushy–”

“Get on with it.” Lando clenched his jaw, eyes darting down the corridor.

“I’m getting to it. Can she hear us? Actually, it doesn’t matter – but she got blushy and quiet and it turns out she’s liked you since we all went out for dinner the day after Silverstone, y’know, because she couldn’t go to the race, and you guys sat next to each other and she just liked you.” 

(You could hear every word of what was being said.)

Lando felt his lips part in shock. Silverstone was towards the start of the season and there was one race left of the season.

July, August, September, October, November. You’d liked him for five months and hidden it from him that well? Since July? You guys could have been together-together since July? 

Lando could feel his brain start to explode. His thoughts were getting louder–since July?–and Max’s face wasn’t doing anything to help it. If anything his big eyes were making it worse. 

“Yeah, I know, it’s hard to believe.” Max muttered, and it seemed to snap Lando out of his shock-induced reverie.

“Oi.” Lando defended, “Did she say what made her like me?” He slowly took his hands off his friends shoulders.

Max nodded, “You talked to her the whole night. You were kind, funny, endearing, cute, nice to the waiter. Apparently she felt kind of bad you didn’t talk much to anyone else–”

“I didn’t talk to anyone else because I really liked her already.” Lando whispered, trying not to smile.

Max smirked, “Well, you need to tell her that, not me.”

Lando nodded, “Yeah. Bye.” And shut the door in Max’s face, taking a second to breathe and plant a small, non-suspicious-granting smile on his face before bounding around the corner to his side of the bed, flashing you a wider grin as he threw himself on the bed.

You swallowed, anxiety twirling in your stomach. You knew that telling P that stuff was likely to get back to Max, and then there was a chance that Max had told Lando – but you were shocked to find that Max had just chosen to hold onto that information out of loyalty to you. It warmed you, knowing you’d got a friend in Max, but it was also a little frustrating because you’d specifically been counting on P telling Max telling Lando. Maybe put a few feelers out.

And there was nothing reported back, so you just assumed Lando didn’t like you like that.

But he apparently did?

It was a tough thing to accept (a good thing to accept, you guessed), but not at all what you expected. You’d been planning for heartbreak (not that you'd planned to tell him), but now within the span of a two minute conversation, you had liberty to not expect disappointment.

And that was a little intimidating.

But Lando hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d put himself back on the bed, not bothering to get back under the covers considering it had been Max at the door, not room service–

“Who was it?” You asked, wanting to keep up the pretence of not having heard every word of their private conversation.

Lando hummed, one arm draped over his hair as he ripped his eyes away from the screen, “Sorry?”

He was looking at your mouth when you spoke, “Who was at the door?” 

Then his eyes zipped to yours, “Just Max, he wanted to know if we were having breakfast downstairs. Sent him on his way.”

You nodded.

You could mention what you just heard, ask him if he remembered the dinner out. No, not subtle enough. He’d clock onto it immediately.

But you couldn’t just not say something.

Your hands darted out to fiddle with the edge of the duvet, where it was tucked around your torso. You weren’t even paying attention to the film anymore. You don’t know how long you let your mind run rings around your anxiety, but it was Lando’s hand creeping closer towards yours out of the corner of your eyes that had your head quietening. You watched him push his hand across the covers until it got within a centimetre of yours.

You could feel the warmth from his hand radiating on your skin, and his hesitation was clearly an opportunity for you to pull your hand away.

So you placed your palm on top of his upturned one. And he closed his fingers over your knuckles.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

You couldn’t look at him, but you could feel his concerned gaze burn against your cheek, “Yeah, just thinking.” You took a breath, looking up at him, “Do you ever wish we could have met earlier?”

He was nodding before you’d even finished talking, his entire face sincere in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen, “All the time. I think meeting you earlier would have just made my life a lot easier.”

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand as you felt some colour rush to your cheeks, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, “You make me feel calm, like, I look at you and I just feel better.”

He was looking at you like he was expecting you to say something back immediately, but your mind had gone blank. 

So blank.

And then you felt his hand slowly slipping from your grip, his shoulders moving back to the centre of the bed from he’d leaned across to hold your hand, and you squeezed his hand, not wanting him to move away. You just needed a second to gather your thoughts.

“I need t–”

A knock at the door sounded.

Lando’s eyes darted from you to the door, back and forth, clearly torn. It wasn’t exactly a secret that you were about to say something serious – something that would change the entire dynamic of your relationship – but the interruption…

And at the thought of cold food after your stomach had been growling for the past hour, you made the decision for him. You unlaced your hands, pushing yourself off the bed and opening the door before you could change your mind or look at his face.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of breakfast, and nothing but an awkward, tense silence seemed to envelope the room. 

The next time you saw him was when the group had decided to go for a last minute stroll, one of the stops being the shopping centre in the Venetian. Lando was walking with Max,;Ria with you behind them, and the rest of the group were trailing behind, occasionally laughing loudly. They were pretty raucous, and you and Ria were far enough behind Max and Lando that they couldn’t hear what you were talking about.

Ria had linked your arms, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she pulled you closer after Lando had thrown another anxious glance over his shoulder to check on you, “Lando keeps checking you out.” She whispered.

You shook your head, momentarily biting the inside of your cheek, “He’s making sure I don’t run off.”

She frowned, looking back at Lando, who seemed to spin quickly after getting caught, “Why would you run off?”

You shrugged, trying not to think too much about it, “I overheard him and Max talking this morning about him liking me, and then Max told him about that night when we slept over at P’s place–”

“Yeah, because you wanted P to tell Max to tell Lando–” Ria nodded along.

“Exactly. Anyway, it turns out Max never told Lando, so since July, Lando’s been clueless about it all, and we had sort of a chat when he came back, and I was going to tell him–” Ria shot you a look, “I was, because if i didn’t tell him then, I never would’ve.” You groaned, “But then room service came and we haven’t talked since. But I think he knew I was going to say something, but–I don’t know.”

Ria seemed to think about it for a second, “He probably thinks you changed your mind.” She muttered.

You nodded, “I know, that’s the thing. I chickened out of telling him and then I thought he’d think I changed my mind, and then my brain seems to want to tell me that because he thinks I don’t like him anymore he won’t like me anymore, even though he’s not like that. At all. But now I can’t tell him because there’s people everywhere.”

Ria patted your arm, pulling out her phone, “Do you know what you’re gonna say to him?”

“No, I’m hoping it’ll come to me in the moment.” Even the thought of it sent a knot of anxiety plummeting in your stomach.

“Okay, this is what’s gonna happen: when we get to the shopping centre, everyone will want to go to the craziest shop they see first, okay? You say you want to get a drink first, and Max’ll get Lando to go with you.”

You nodded, “Okay.”

“I’ll text Max. You have to promise you’ll do it, though. Everyone needs to be put out of their misery.” 

You raised a sceptical brow, “Everyone?”

She nodded, “Neither of you are subtle.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

As it happened, Ria’s theory was right. About seven people made an immediate beeline for the nearest shop with lights in the front and an array of weird things in the window (in all honesty, you were too nervous to even pay attention to what it was, it could have just been any high street shop).

You turned to Ria, “I’m gonna go get a coffee, I’ll meet you back here?” 

She nodded, finding Max, who seemed to be on the lookout for her, and winked.

You took a deep breath, already beginning to walk away from the group. You’d all craned over a map on the way in so you knew vaguely which direction you were heading in, and when a hurried pair of footsteps jogged closer, your nerves seemed to only get worse. 

Then Lando stepped next to you, and oddly enough, the anxiety you’d been holding onto all morning seemed to evaporate. And then it seemed to come crashing back in when you actually took in the expression on his face. 

There was a slight downwards curve to his mouth, and his eyes were wide, brows furrowed. He looked a little frantic. And sad.

You wanted to drag your hand down his face and wipe it off.

In fact, you hated it so much that you stopped mid-step and grabbed his forearm without even thinking about it, “Is everything oka–”

“Are we still friends?” He breathed, eyes darting around your face.

You blinked, mouth parting at the loaded question. If you said yes you’d basically be rejecting him and that was the last thing you wanted to do; if you said no, you didn’t know what would happen. He could take it the wrong way and assume you didn’t want to be anything at all, but you were going to tell him – you had to, you promised Ria.

Even if it meant breaking his heart a little bit first, it’d have the best outcome.

You turned back around briefly, eyes scanning for a more private alcove, and dragged him to the nearest corridor, out of any possible stray eyes. It was a bit busy today, with the race last night–

You pushed him against the wall gently, hands wringing together. He slumped, clearly trying not to get too defeated by your silence after he’d spoken. But then his eyes dropped to your hands and he straightened, something unreadable on his face.

“I don’t want to still be friends.” You said, sighing and crossing your arms.

It was his turn to speak now. You seemed incapable of saying anything else at that moment.

He swallowed, brows furrowing. His face looked less despondent, so you took that as a win. He seemed to have been expecting you to say something like that (that was why he phrased the question in such a way!) because he pushed himself off the wall a little, “In what way?”

You rolled your eyes, “In an I like you way.”

“Romantically?” He took another step closer, a cheeky smile starting to curve at his mouth, and you said nothing at him.

Only this time it was of your own will.

He huffed a laugh, “I just need to hear you say it.”

“Romantically.” 

It felt like a relief getting those words off your chest to the person you needed to say them to.

He seemed to think so too, because he grinned. Wider than he had before – like he had done last night, when he’d smiled with his entire being. His eyes crinkled in that way you adored, and his smile seemed ot reach his ears, “Thank fuck.” He breathed.

Then that was all he said.

You raised your brow, “Dude.” You encouraged, gesturing to him to go on.

He pulled a face, “Don’t ‘dude’ me.”

“You haven’t given me a reason not to ‘dude’ you.”

“I like you too, dickhead.” He grumbled, “A little less than before you called me ‘dude’, though.”

“I’m liking you less by the second.” You stated, trying not to laugh at the situation, “Romantically?” You checked, echoing his earlier question and also mocking it slightly.

“Romantically.” He clarified. 

You both went silent, just drinking each other up in a way you hadn’t been able to five minutes ago. He looked gorgeous, as per usual. His hair was a little messier than it usually would be, probably a combination of the last-second plans and the fact that he wasn’t going to be showing his face on international TV. His face looked less restrained, like because he knew he didn’t have to hold back from looking at you everywhere, it was a weight lifted from his chest. His eyes were still smiling, glimmering a little, and his smile was softer – more secretive. His hands were flexing at his sides, as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

His hoodie hugged his shoulders, practically begging you to run your hands over them – but you didn’t. He looked snug, again, and before you could restrain yourself, you reached out and took one of his hands. His response was immediate, clasping his hand around yours and looking at you with a burning intensity. Only, you used your other hand to pull up his sleeve.

His forearm was tanned beautifully, veins completely visible. You’d never been allowed to just twist his arm around to your desire and simply look. You swallowed, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he caught it with his teeth. 

You nudged your head closer, his nose softly bumping against your cheek.

Blood seemed to pump through your veins even faster than it already was. You could feel where you’d both stepped into each other, where his legs were pressed against yours, where your hands were still gripping, your other hand slipping off his forearm.

You could feel his breath tickle your cheek and your eyes fluttered shut briefly before snapping open. He was still looking at you, and in that split second he used the leverage of your conjoined hands to pull you even closer. You stumbled a little into him, tripping over his trainers, chests colliding. Your free hand slapped out to stop your falling, landing directly on top of his shoulder to brace yourself.

If anything, his little pull seemed to work because you were closer than before. All you had to do was lean closer–

“I want to kiss you but I want to take you on a date first.” He whispered, sucking the inside of his cheek nervously.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “Because you’re a gentleman.”

He nodded, leaning closer despite his words. His eyes seemed to be zeroed in on your lips, and your mouth curved into a smile almost instantly at that observation. Then he smiled, nodding, your foreheads touching, “Yeah.”

“What kind of gentleman would you be if I wanted you to kiss me but you said no?” You breathed.

“Not a very good one.”

Lando’s lips were softer than you imagined, but there was a soul-crushing desperation behind it – a need, maybe the thought that someone could walk past the end of the corridor at any second and ruin this little pocket of relief, so he needed to make it last. You were eager, meeting him with an equal force that seemed to knock the air out of your lungs and weaken your knees – but his hold on you, he was touching you everywhere: one hand was on your cheek and laced in your hair, the other holding your back and pushing him against you – and you were practically leaning on him.

You didn’t know if it was the culmination of pent up feeling being released, or the fact that you were kissing him, but it felt euphoric; the way you seemed to move together was almost as if it had been rehearsed – which was insane, if you really thought about it. But you couldn’t, because he was practically kissing the breath out of your lungs, and you don’t know when it happened but you were pressing against him roughly, one hand on the back of his neck and the other wound in his hair.

And then you pulled away, breathing heavily. Your pulse was hammering and your blood was singing. You knew your cheeks would be red and your lips would be swollen, hair messy, but in that moment you couldn’t honestly find it within yourself to care.

And then he smirked, taking in your appearance. 

His hair was practically everywhere. It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed after a deep sleep on one side of his face, and his cheeks were flushed, as were the tips of his ears and the slither of chest you could see from where his hoodie had slipped and been tugged. 

Then you smacked him on the arm – not very hard. More of a light tap. He hissed nonetheless, smirk dropping but eyes still glazed over and watching you with what you now knew was lovesick intrigue.

“You’re a fucking chicken.” You pointed at him, “We could have been doing that last night.”

His expression dropped, eyes refocusing, “No, we could have been doing that since July.”

You tilted your head, “Maybe August, because I would have had to actually make sure I liked you.”

His expression dropped a little, an inquisitive smile still on his face, “Did you hear that entire conversation with Max?”

“It was hard to miss.”

“Oh.” He nodded, a smile on his face as he looped one hand around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You thought he was pulling you in for another kiss, your hand pressed comfortably against his chest, and he was an eyelash-length away from it when he stopped.

You were about to groan.

“What do you mean you had to make sure you liked me?” His brow was arched, but his tone wasn’t malicious or suspicious in any way. If anything it was coated with a thinly veiled layer of curiosity.

You shrugged, “Crushes go away. This kind of seemed to stick.”

“Lucky for me.” He kissed you, hands pressed against your cheeks in a display of faux passion and drama, before letting you go, hands not leaving you or letting you stray too far.

“So you never said when you started to like me.” You murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head and avoiding eye contact.

“Now is not the time to get shy on me.” You breathed, a hand going to hold his sleeve.

“I’m not shy, I just—” He shook his head, self-deprecation evident, “If I had to say, probably May.”

You stalled, not able to say much, “Monaco?”

“Yeah.” 

Then something warm seemed to bloom in your chest and you felt your eyes soften and a small smile creep in your face at the admission, “When we met?”

He inhaled sharply, “Pretty much. I think the crush started when you offered to help me take my helmet photos.” 

You laughed, “Those photos were pretty funny.”

 He nodded, eyes darting again to the end of the corridor, “We can talk about all that later—”

“Agreed—”

“But I just wanna kiss you again.”

You just pulled him in.

#lando norris oneshot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

[mandarinmoons]

Spencer was lying on his couch completely motionless, cradling a book into his chest, the same book that you had gifted him. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and a lack of sleep, it had been nearly two weeks since you passed, two weeks since he hadn’t been able to save you.

It was quiet in the apartment, usually the ticking sound of the grandfather clock could be heard in the background, but it hadn’t been wound in a good while and Spencer hadn’t noticed it. His mind was too busy playing back the last scenes of seeing you alive, a vicious cycle that he had no control over.

Sometimes Spencer swore that he heard your voice when he closed his eyes, it felt so lifelike that his eyes shot open and he frantically looked from side to side hoping, praying that all the events that took place were a horrible dream and that you were safe and still with him. However, when the silence was the only thing to be heard and he noticed that he was still wearing your cardigan, the hope came crashing down and his head hit the pillow again in a thud, it wasn’t real, it was his mind playing tricks on him again.

When his body gave in and Spencer finally fell asleep, his dreams were all filled with you. The two of you sitting at a table in a cafe, soft music playing in the background and the smell of the freshly brewed drinks filling your noses.

Spencer would slide his arm over the table to take your hand in his, but your hand would feel cold. The only time he was able to hold it was when he ran toward your lifeless body and took your hand in his to feel for a pulse that wasn’t there anymore.

Spencer would feel his chest tighten in his dream, but the image of you in his mind wouldn’t let him associate your passing with the last moments of seeing you alive. The dream version of you was determined to remind him of all the joyous times spent together instead, all the time spent sending each other letters, which later turned to phone calls. Spencer still remembers the first time he heard your laugh and how he knew that it would become one of his favorite sounds.

As time went on Spencer felt your hand getting warmer and the hold you had on him felt stronger. Spencer didn’t know what was going on, but the dream no longer felt like a dream, but as if it was a moment in real life. Your face was no longer hazy and he could clearly make out all of your features. He knew that this could be his final time seeing you and he wanted to treasure it as much as he could.

Eventually he woke up and saw that hours had passed, it was his first time having a proper sleep in weeks and he finally felt a bit lighter. What had happened made absolutely no sense to Spencer, it could’ve been his brain protecting him from any further emotional pain, or, maybe it was you coming to him in his dreams to tell him that you’re alright, whatever it was, he was thankful for it.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid x gn! reader #spencer reid au #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[starryeyedjanai]

one hand gripping the wheel

steddie pwp | explicit | 2k

read on AO3

Eddie's driving, and he's got one hand on Steve's thigh. It's right after his concert just ended, so Eddie's still pretty hyped up and keeps running his hand up and down Steve's thigh.

Steve has already said something along the lines of, "if you keep that up..." to which Eddie stilled his hand, but kept his fingertips tucked into the warmth of the space between Steve's thighs.

Eddie doesn't even realize that he's started up again until Steve's hand is covering his on his thigh.

He sheepishly opens his mouth to apologize, but the only thing that comes out is a squeak because Steve's moving his hand further up his thigh to cover his half-hard dick.

He glances over, just a quick look down to where his hand is on Steve's cock, separated by just a few layers of clothing. He licks his lips and turns his attention back to the road.

Steve's hand is still covering his, keeping it there, letting him feel how hard he got him just from rubbing his thigh a little.

Eddie feels a little lightheaded about it.

"Steve," he whispers into the silence of the van. He doesn't remember there not being music on in the background. Did one of them turn it off?

"Yeah?" Steve sighs out, almost a moan, putting more pressure on Eddie's hand in his lap.

Eddie wants to look over again so badly, but he has to focus on the road.

"Stevie, you gotta stop. I'm driving," he says, his hand betraying his words, curling his fingers around the shape of Steve in his pants. His left hand is gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"'S'okay. I'll do all the work," Steve says, rolling his hips up into Eddie's hand.

"Oh, that is so not fair," Eddie whines, pressing his hand against him more firmly.

Steve hips jerk up against his hand and he makes the prettiest sound as he uses Eddie's hand to play with himself.

The road is so much less interesting than whatever the hell is happening in the passenger seat, but Eddie can't look over there right now.

Steve makes another noise, high in his throat, and Eddie pulls his hand away.

He says, "Unbutton your goddamn pants."

Steve huffs out a laugh and when Eddie quickly glances over at him, his cheeks are flushed red. This is so not fair. Eddie wants to put his mouth on him.

Steve does it, undoes his belt and undoes his pants, shifts around until he's got them pulled down a little. Eddie can only see him in his periphery - he can't look over there again because he'll crash the fucking van if he does.

"Now what?" Steve asks, looking at him.

Eddie hadn't thought this far ahead. His brain is currently out of order, no thoughts, head empty and buzzing.

He puts his hand back on Steve's thigh, where his jeans are bunched up, where the teeth of his zipper dig into Eddie's hand.

Steve guides his hand to his lap and Eddie groans out loud at the feeling of skin, only skin under his fingertips. His hand is directly on Steve's cock. It's hard and velvety against his palm.

"Did you really go commando to my show?" Eddie asks, letting out a shaky breath.

"Mhm," Steve hums, settling back into the seat, his hand still operating Eddie's, moving it slowly against him.

Eddie says, "Jesus fucking christ," trying not to let all his thoughts be consumed by that one detail.

It's just- Steve's whispered it in his ear before, after a show, that he got hard because of Eddie performing. That seeing Eddie on stage really gets him going.

And the thought of Steve coming to a show with no fucking underwear on, his dick pressed hard into the zipper of his pants as he stood there and watched Eddie perform- that's making Eddie a little insane right now. And it's making his cock twitch in his pants.

He moves to grip him properly and rubs the head with his thumb. His thumb gets wet with the precome that's leaking from the tip. He licks his lips again, his mouth suddenly so dry. He wants to taste him.

He doesn't have the dexterity or the ability to multitask enough to jerk Steve off while he's literally driving, so he says, "Thought you were gonna do all the work."

Steve wraps his fist around Eddie's and moves it for him, starting up a languid rhythm, nice and slow. "I did say that," Steve says and Eddie doesn't have to look over to know he's grinning.

They're only a couple minutes away from home. Eddie can do this. He can get them home in one piece while his fist is wrapped around Steve's dripping cock.

He stops at a stop sign and gives into the urge to look over at him. Sees Steve looking right back at him, a devilish smile on his face.

He tightens his grip, just shy of too tight, just a little mean, to see that smile melt away as Steve moans for him. He jerks him fast and rough, the air filling with Steve's groans and the smell of sex.

A car honking behind them pulls Eddie out of the moment, reminding him where they are. He steps on the gas and lets Steve take over the pace of his hand on him again.

Steve keeps his hand around Eddie's the whole rest of the way home, moving it for him, stroking himself with Eddie's hand, filling the car with his moans and his soft, whiny exhales.

Eddie's entire body is tingling and he's breathing heavy like he's the one getting touched right now. The air in the car is muggy and hot and he's sweating even though he has the air on.

Eddie pulls into the parking garage of their apartment building, thanking the universe, god, whoever, that the light near his parking spot is still out.

He can't even turn the car off with his hand on Steve's dick, but he reaches over with his left hand to put it in park before turning his full attention on Steve.

He pulls his hand back and spits into his palm, the sound loud in the sudden quiet of the car.

"You're trouble, you know that?" he says, returning his spit-wet hand to his cock.

"Just for you," Steve says, a smile dancing on his lips before his mouth falls open around a silent moan, just the air sharply escaping his lungs as Eddie digs his thumb into the slit of his dick.

With his head tilted back and resting against the headrest, mouth open in a whine, Eddie thinks he's never looked better.

He's wearing one of Eddie's shirts, pulled tight across his chest and Eddie wants to put his mouth all over him, set his teeth in him and bite until he bruises. He wants to pin him to the fucking ground and rut against him while he leaves teeth marks indented in his skin. He wants to lean down now and take him in his mouth, wants to gag on him until Steve loses control and fucks up into his mouth over and over until he comes.

He's going to do all that. Not- not right now, not all at once. But he gets to do those things now and it's still so insane to him.

With his fist wrapped tight around Steve's cock, pulling desperate sounds from his mouth that Eddie wants to eat, he's still in awe that Steve lets him have this, lets him have him.

He gets to touch him like this, gets to wake up with him in his bed in the apartment they share together. Gets to imagine a future with him, gets to imagine growing old with him.

It's not new, this thing. They've been together for over a year now, have been living together since Eddie's old lease ran out a few months ago. So it's not new. But every fucking moment he gets to have with Steve is precious. Every touch he gets is something he cherishes. And marvels at.

Because who the hell would have thought the two of them could be something real? Who could have thought that the two of them could have something like this? He sure didn't.

But Steve was never unsure about him, it seems. From the moment they kissed, he was all in. Ready to share a life with Eddie in a way that Eddie could never have expected. He never could have expected this, expected him.

But he gets to have this, gets to put his hands all over him because Steve allows it, because Steve wants it.

He gets to spend his life loving him.

And what a fucking time to realize it, that he loves him, when he's got his hand on his cock in the parking garage of their building. When a neighbor who happens to be out this late could potentially walk by and see Eddie's love for him.

Hell of a time for a revelation.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to Steve's flushed, sweaty neck, unable to help himself from showering Steve in his love.

"Eddie," Steve whispers and Eddie leans back to look at him. He bites the corner of his lip, drawing Eddie's attention to his mouth where a smile is starting to form, practically begging Eddie to kiss him.

Eddie dives in for the kill, his mouth landing right on Steve's smile. His left hand comes up to grip Steve's neck as he kisses him. He presses kisses on his lips, pecking him over and over as his hand continues to work Steve's cock.

They should get out of the car and go inside. He should stop touching him so they can get inside.

He doesn't want to.

He wants Steve to make a mess of himself right here, all because Eddie wants him to.

So he ramps up the speed of his hand instead, kissing him harder, tilting his head to slide into the kiss deeper. He fucks his tongue in and out of his mouth like he wants to be fucking him with his cock, like he will be whenever they get inside their apartment.

The sound of his hand working Steve's dick is obscene. The slick, wet sounds are loud with no other sounds in the car. They get even louder when Eddie grinds his palm against the head of Steve's cock to get his hand even wetter than before. The amount of precome that's leaking from the tip is absurd.

Steve is whining into the kiss, tiny sounds escaping the side of his mouth as Eddie licks inside, tongue stroking along Steve's, tasting the beer he had at the venue, tasting him underneath it all.

He pulls back from the kiss with a slick noise and leans his forehead against Steve's, looking down at his cock.

"You gonna come all over yourself for me, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah," Steve chokes out. "Yes, yes."

He digs his thumb into the slit of Steve's cock to hear him moan so pretty in his ear before speeding up again. His hand is a blur on Steve's dick, jerking him tight and fast, and it's only another minute before Steve's hips are thrusting up and he's coming all over Eddie's hand, all over Eddie's shirt that he's wearing.

He slows his fist down, but keeps moving, milking the last bits of come from his cock, drawing overstimulated little gasps from Steve's mouth. It's so dark in the car, but Eddie swears he can see the shine of the come on Steve's dick as he gentles his touch.

"Stop," Steve whines after a minute of squirming through the feeling of Eddie's touch being just a little bit too-much-too-soon.

Eddie lets go of him and leans back in his seat, watching Steve try to catch his breath. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licks at the come painting his fingertips, and is treated to another groan falling from Steve's mouth as he looks at him with heat in his eyes.

"That's so unfair," Steve says, reaching down with shaky hands to tuck himself away, his cock still wet with his come. Eddie's gonna bully Steve right into the shower as soon as they get inside.

"Darling, you're the one who started it," Eddie says in a sing-song voice, before pushing his tongue through the vee of his index and middle finger where some of Steve's come has gathered.

Steve huffs out a breath. "You're a lying liar. You were the one stroking my thigh for twenty straight minutes."

"There's nothing straight about that, babe."

Steve looks at him for a beat and then rolls his eyes. "I'm getting out of the car now."

#steddie #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie pwp #eddie munson #steve harrington #janai.doc

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Them reacting to reader using their vision in weird ways

Characters: Ayaka / Furina x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none

a/n: When I updated my masterlist yesterday, I noticed that I hadn’t written for Ayaka in a long time, so I decided to use my 3 brain cells and think of something to write for her. Why is Furina here as well? Easy, since I love her and want to dig myself into an even deeper hole for when it inevitably turns out I got her whole personality wrong once Fontaine comes out in a few days.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Ayaka

Crossing paths with you while walking around the Kamisato Estate was as common as seeing a bird fly over the horizon. You were everywhere, from filling out paperwork in the garden, running errands for her brother or sneaking off to pet whatever pet you had laid eyes on to rushing past everyone to fetch Thoma before he could waste more of his time trying to fulfill one of Ayato’s impossible assignments. And although you seemed to be in a hurry most of the time, you always made sure to stop and chat with Ayaka whenever she passed you.

Your conversations were brief, but that didn’t mean that the young Kamisato didn’t appreciate them, making sure to keep an eye out for you whenever she could, so when she finally spotted you while talking to another resident of the estate, her eyes immediately began following you, not wanting to lose track of you before she had the opportunity to at least greet you. Something that had to wait until her current conversation was over.

Your face was as red as it could be, not that she held it against you. It was a scorching hot day and Ayaka was lucky enough to have her fan with her whenever she felt it became too unbearable. You however, having both of your hands full with paperwork you were presumably carrying to her brother’s office, weren’t so lucky. But just as she thought about offering you her fan, you carefully put your chin on top of the papers, pressing them between it and your right hand before quickly grabbing your anemo vision with the other and creating a wind as an impromptu fan.

“Miss Kamisato?”, her conversation partner called out her name in a worried manner, probably noticing her space out when she failed to answer a question, causing Ayaka to snap back to reality as a small blush formed on her cheeks, quickly apologizing. Luckily, the other person didn’t seem to care too much, asking the question again.

“So, about your order…” However, their voice quickly faded into the background as her attention once again shifted towards you, your previous stunt seemingly having caused a few papers to fall to the ground, leading to you silently staring at them, probably thinking about what to do next. 

Instead of bending down and picking them up however, you once again used your vision to create a breeze that caused them to fly just high enough for you to catch them without having to move an extra muscle, smiling to yourself as you put them back on top of the other papers before your gaze met hers.

Before Ayaka knew it, you were waving and smiling at her, your vision still in hand , and before she managed to stop herself, she was waving back, only to be dragged back to the present once again when she saw her conversation partners confused look, causing her face to grow even redder than last time, especially when she heard a snicker escape your mouth.

Furina

Furina had hoped for a million different things to spice these mind bogglingly boring days up, a sudden mysterious criminal causing chaos while evading police and setting off an intriguing investigation, a comet filled with alien lifeforms crashing into the surrounding area, a judge pronouncing a word embarrassingly wrong… ANYTHING.

So when she noticed a person throwing their pyro vision into a pot of water to heat it, she couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, continuing to watch them with rising interest as it became increasingly clear the water had gotten too hot for the vision to be fished out, her smile only growing larger with each bubble that rose to the water's surface.

“You need something or are you just here to watch and smile?”, you eventually asked as you turned your head towards her, your face portraying a miffed expression, one bringing her even more amusement. Meeting a stand owner that was accidentally more entertaining than most shows she visited in the last couple of weeks wasn’t exactly on her bingo sheet for that day, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.

“No, I’m just watching”, she stated, not even attempting to hide her amusement. Only for you to look back down at the pot with an increasingly worried expression.

“You got a cryo vision or something that I could throw in to cool it?”

Your question earned you nothing but a deadpan expression, only for the silence between the two of you to suddenly cause it to shatter within an instance, Furina breaking out in laughter as it became increasingly clear that you were being serious, eventually ending up in her having to wipe away her tears, stopping her laugh several times to look at you with a face nearly begging you to say you were joking before continuing even more uncontrollably.

“If you intend on continuing to laugh instead of helping, then please go away”, you eventually stated, your face withholding any emotions as you stared at her, only for her to finally calm down enough to speak.

“Just pour out the water”, she managed to say between her laughs, causing you to shake your head.

“Great, and where do I quickly get new water from then?”, you asked sarcastically.

“Hello? You’re talking to the Hydro Archon here, water should be the least of your concerns”, she wheezed. Only to immediately stop when she heard a laugh coming from you, her expression darkening as it was your turn to laugh at her.

“Yeah right, good one. Let me help you find your parents, I’m sure they must start to get worried about you”, you laughed and laughed until you buckled over holding your stomach, not able to stop for even a second.

It took Furina all of her willpower not to take the boiling pot and pour it over you, the only thing stopping her being the knowledge that doing so would rob her of one of the few entertaining people in her country.

#ayaka x you #ayaka x reader #kamisato ayaka x reader #ayaka x y/n #kamisato ayaka #furina #furina x you #furina x reader #furina x y/n #focalors x reader #focalors #focalors x y/n #focalors x you

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 18

You all weren't supposed to get this until Monday, but to celebrate being released from the shadow ban! Have at it! Chapter 15 when on Ao3, MasterpostWC: 2353

Danny left the lecture with a smile on his face. It wasn’t that the lecture had been particularly enjoyable or anything, no, Danny just had been smiling more often than not the last few weeks. It was hard not to when he thought about Jason and the fact that they were dating.

He had a boyfriend. A very hot, very sweet boyfriend who was amazing at planning dates. Aside from the museum, they had also gone back to the beach and the little city near it, and kept up with their normal meals and exploring the city. It all really made Danny realize how much the two of them had been practically dating before their actual date. It was a nice realization. It meant much hadn’t had to change other than being able to hold hands… and take advantage of kissing Jason. Those were changes Danny was very much enjoying.

The next proper date was Danny’s to plan (he had insisted) and different ideas were filling up his head. He wanted to make it as special as the dates Jason had planned for him. The museum had been perfect, after all. It was a lot to live up to. Today, though, was just going over to Jason’s for a meal and to watch something. He pulled out his phone and gave Jason a call to see what food he should pick up.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Fish, hi, um, can I— no you cannot!” Jason answered, sounding like he had turned his face away from the phone. Someone in the background answered back. “No, do not—”

There was the rustling and muffled words before silence. And then— “Hey little fish!” Whoever had just taken over the call was much more chipper sounding.

“Hello,” Danny replied, bemused.

Whoever it was let out a sudden meep as obvious sounds of scuffling filled the background of the call. “So, I'm Jason's brother, Dick.“

“Give me back my phone you fucker!” Jason shouted, his words slightly muffled.

“Hello, Dick.”

An exhaled oof of air was followed by a loud crash and what Danny was pretty sure was one of them kicking the other.

“You can't keep him from me forever!” Dick cried. “Anyways, I'm at Jason's.”

Danny could help but grin at the antics. “I gathered.”

“Right— back off Jaybird— want to come over for lunch? Since I’m, oh shi—”

Danny winced at the sound of the phone hitting the floor. They were really going at it now. He’d give them props for creative cussing. As he listened to the sounds of the fight, he made his way to the subway stop.

Finally, a slightly breathless Jason reclaimed the phone. “Sorry about him.”

“It's fine. Want to put in an order at the Malaysian place for us and I'll pick it up? I'm already on my way over.”

“No,” Jason said (whined, really, though Danny knew he’d deny it). “Don't give into his demands.”

“Victory!” came a strangled cry. From the winded sound, Danny would bet Jason had his brother pinned, maybe even in a choke hold.

“I don't think he's really going to give up,” Danny pointed out. Jason was quiet. Quiet enough that Danny started to backtrack. “Hey, if you don't want me to meet your family—”

“No! It's not… I'll put in an order. It will be under your name. I'm making Dick pay though.”

“Still won!“ Came the shout from Dick before Jason hung up.

-

“I’ve got it!” a voice that wasn’t Jason called out from inside of the apartment.

Danny did his best to resist the urge to fidget.

Now that he was standing outside of the apartment the reality that Danny was about to meet someone from Jason’s family hit home. And Jason’s family were Waynes. He took a deep breath and tried not to panic. That, of course, meant his brain had time to run through a dozen worst case scenarios by the time the door swung open.

The Dick Grayson that stood in the door was every bit the male model that society pages liked to claim. His smile was even more blinding in person and maybe even a little infectious. Danny found he couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was a little wan and nervous.

“Oh my- Jaybird!” Dick called over his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me how adorable he was!”

Danny felt his cheeks flush red.

Dick spun back to Danny. “Are you a hugger?”

“I— yes?”

There was barely time for Danny to squeak out the words before Dick had scooped him up in a crushing hug. Oh. Okay, that was nice. Danny hadn’t been hugged like that since Jazz left for college and his parents stopped remembering he existed.

“Please stop smothering my boyfriend,” Jason called out as he came over.

“Hi Jason. Food,” Danny said, his words muffled against Dick’s chest. He blindly held out the bag of food in Jason’s direction, keeping the cardboard tray of drinks in his other hand.

“Hey, fish,” Jason said. Danny felt the food be lifted from his hand. “Do I need to get the jaws of life?”

“Oh shut up, Jayce,” Dick said cheerily. He squeezed Danny one last time before he let him go.

Danny took the opportunity to suck in a deep breath.

“Hi, I’m Dick,” Dick said, still grinning and offering his hand like a normal person.

“Don’t tell him!” Jason called out from the kitchen.

Danny leaned around Dick, absently shaking his hand as he did so. “What?”

“Don’t tell him your name,” Jason explained.

“He’s just been calling you ‘fish’ this whole time.”

“It’s driving him insane.” Jason sounded viciously gleeful.

“No,” Dick whined, drawing out the word to an absurd length. “I’m finally meeting you! You’re right here! I have to get to know your name now! I can’t keep calling you ‘fish’.”

“I mean,” Danny said innocently as he finally stepped in the apartment and closed the door behind him. “I like fish. Jason has been very creative with the name. It’s actually a little impressive.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at Danny. “I’m starting to see how you fit with Jason.”

Jason cackled from the kitchen. He set plates and utensils down on the table before coming over and wrapping his hands around Danny’s waist from behind. “My boyfriend, my side.”

Danny smiled innocently and leaned back into the hold.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dick said with a roll of his eyes, but he was still grinning happily. He started towards the table. “Come and eat or I’ll take all the roti for myself.”

“No, not the roti!” Danny gasped dramatically.

“Don’t worry, I got extra,” Jason assured everyone as he nudged Danny in the right direction.

“This must be yours,” Danny said, handing over one of the two blindingly pink cups of sirap bandung over to Dick. “Which tells me you are a man of refined tastes.”

“Just because you two have a sweet tooth—”

“Refined tastes indeed, well met,” Dick said over Jason with a fake British accent that would make Alfred wince.

“Indeed. Drink your longan juice, Jason,” Danny said, handing over the third cup to Jason, who just rolled his eyes.

They popped open all the various containers of food, sticking spoons or forks in them almost haphazardly. It became a jumble of hands for a bit as everyone got the first rounds they wanted on their plates. The table was quiet as everyone happily tore into the curries, rendang, and satay skewers.

-

“So, ‘fish’, if that is your real name, tell me about yourself,” Dick said after he had staved off the worst of his hunger.

“Um,” Fish (he couldn’t believe he had to call the guy fish in his own head) stalled badly as he completely blanked on what to say. Dick had the horrible feeling that people didn’t usually listen to what Fish had to say. “I moved to Gotham for school.”

“Gotham U? Or one of the lib arts colleges?”

Fish’s nose wrinkled adorably up at that. “Gotham U, I’m a total STEM. I’ll leave the books to Jason.”

“He’s a literature heathen,” Jason bemoaned. “But surprisingly dedicated to finding bizarre Jane Austen interpretations for me to watch.”

“You liked ‘the Lizzie Bennet Diaries,” Fish said, pointing at Jason with a skewer.

Jason stole the skewer to Fish’s indignant squawk. “I did, but ‘Persuasion’ was a mistake in every way.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fair,” Fish said, stealing a piece of tofu from Jason’s plate in retribution. (Oh shit, Jason was letting Fish steal his food!) “Not everything I find can be a winner.”

“Okay, but it sounds like you try at least! That counts for something. Got it though, science not books for the fish,” Dick said. “What do you like to do then?”

“Right now life is just a lot of studying and projects and papers,” Fish sighed. “But when I have time I like to play video games. And Jason has been showing me around Gotham and New Jersey.”

“So you swam in from out of state then?”

“Bus from Illinois,” Fish said. “It’s been a change for sure.”

“But you’re liking it?”

“I am, actually. I didn’t know if I would and there’s some things I don’t like— it’s always so… loud here, but the variety of stuff to see and eat is amazing. Like, I never had Malaysian food before moving here and now I don’t know how I would live without good roti just a call away. And, I don’t know, there’s just something about Gotham?”

“The city has a way of sinking into your bones,” Dick agreed.

“You aren’t from here either, right?”

“Nope! But I’ve been here for over half my life now. It’s weird and fucked up but it’s home and I love it,” Dick said with a shrug. “Think you’ll stay?”

Years of training kept Dick from flinching when Jason kicked him under the table.

The fish glanced at Jason for a moment. “Um, well, I guess that depends on if I can find a job or not. But I think I’d like to, if I can.”

“Sorry,” Dick said with a laugh. “You’re probably just worried about your next test at the moment. So exploring Gotham, school, video games— have you faced off against Jason in Mario Kart or Smash yet?”

“No,” Fish said, drawing the word out as he turned to Jason. “I am betrayed. Wounded. You didn’t tell me you played video games!”

Oh yeah, Dick liked Jason’s aquatic boyfriend.

“Just those two really.”

“And Animal Crossing. Our sister Cass got him totally hooked on Animal Crossing,” Dick said, bracing for another kick. Yep, there it was. “You should get him to show you his island. It has a miniature golf course and everything.”

Danny grinned. “Oh you are so showing me that later.”

The tip of Jason’s ears were bright red. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Tonight though! Tonight we have an epic brother versus brother versus fish racing battle,” Dick crowed.

“Oh you’re just lucky it’s not Smash, you might actually have a chance,” Danny said with a slightly feral smile.

“It’s on.”

It was indeed on.

The races were fierce battles and the fish was no guppy, but Dick had been trained against other superheros and set after set came away with the crown.

Several sets in, Fish’s phone went off, making him jolt. “Oh, shit, that’s my alarm to catch the subway home. I better run.”

“I can give you a ride home if you want?” Dick offered, putting his own controller down.

“No, it’s fine! I know it’s still early, I’ve just got this paper to get finished up in the next few days and I’m making myself work on it some each night,” Fish said, leaning over the back of the couch to reach for his bag.

Jason reached out to steady Fish by holding onto the back of his hoodie.

Dick stole Fish’s phone from the gesturing arm. “I’m putting my number in.”

“What? Oh, yeah, sure,” Fish said, lunging forward suddenly. When Jason yanked him back, Fish had his backpack in hand.

Jason clutched Fish to his chest and sighed. “Fish—”

“I’m fine, you got me,” Fish said, grinning up at Jason.

Jason clearly tried to look stern for a moment before he sighed; his whole face softened with the act. He curled around Fish slightly, just enough to brush a kiss to Fish’s temple. “Course I do.”

Since he still had it in hand, Dick snapped a picture with Fish’s phone. He figured the two didn’t have a lot of photos as a couple yet, and they looked precious at the moment. It was clear how much adoration Jason had for Fish— and how happy Jason made Fish. Dick was glad they had found each other.

“Don’t forget your phone.”

“Thanks! It was nice meeting you,” Fish said, climbing out of Jason’s arms and grabbing his phone. “I’ll kick your ass next time!”

“You’re welcome to try,” Dick said cheerfully. “If only fish had more than a three second memory maybe you could get good.”

Fish rolled his eyes, but distracted himself by giving Jason a quick kiss. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Course, send me the plans. And text when you’re home safe.”

“Stop worrying,” Fish said as he swung on his backpack. “But I will. Have a good night you two!”

Both brothers bid Fish goodbye as he rushed out the door.

Dick waited till Jason had locked the door before, “Oh my god, Jaybird, you two are so adorable!”

“Dickhead,” Jason warned.

“No, I get to have this. My little brother has a boyfriend and is adorable with him! Did he send you the photo I took? Ask him to send you the photo I took and you’ll see too.”

Jason sighed, shaking his head as he came back to sit on the couch.

Dick leaned over to knock their shoulders together. “Hey, I’m happy for you. He seems like a really good guy. I’m glad you met him.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, that soft smile back on his face. “I’m glad too.”

-----

AN: And one of the Bats finally meets Danny! Or, well, Fish. That seemed to go well, right? Surely everything will be happy now. Are there enough fish puns/jokes? If not, feel free to suggest some! Much love to Moku for giving this an early read over when I was doubting the chapter.

Also I'm craving Malaysian food so badly now ;-;

Due to being shadow banned (they said glitch, but I still believe I got auto flagged for tagging too many people), I am no longer tagging for updates. It wasn't going to be doable in the new post editor anyways! To be notified, subscribe to this post instead!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do #danny fenton/jason todd #danny fenton x jason todd

[lustkillers]

hi! I absolutely love your stories! would you mind writing some Gabriel (Columbus) or Clyde (Elecktrick Children) fluff (or smut?)? maybe something fluffy that ends up steamy please? thank you! 🫶🫶

NOTHING THE MATTER WITH A KISS!

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - who knew he was head over heels for you?

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit, unprotected sex, overstimulation, fingering, softdom!clyde, sub!reader, standing sex?? fluff & bad writing im sorry </3 ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - clyde x fem!reader

⊹₊ ⋆ note - this request twisted knobs in my brain RAHHHHH but i hope i did this justice!! this is also a short one, i'm so sorry!! the 13 going on 30 roman fic will be published soon (hopefully) !! not proofread. my inbox is open for requests, so feel free to drop anything!

CLYDE watched you as your hips swayed to the music playing in the background of the apartment you both shared, his lips tugging into a smile.

The music was loud, a bluetooth speaker emitting tunes that had become your favorite over the last year, despite neither of you knowing where it wilfully came from. It suddenly struck him how truly happy he was in this moment - with you.

He stood up and walked closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his chin atop your shoulder. You could feel the subtle heat of his breath on your neck, sending a tingle down your back. He could tell that was pleased with being held by him as he felt you sink into his embrace.

He noticed the way your eyes sparkled when he approached you, and a feeling of contentment surged through his veins. He wanted this moment to last forever, he never wanted it to end.

You swayed against him with a smile, a heat traveling to your cheeks as you allowed yourself to melt into the space that seemed so perfectly crafted for both of you. He took his hand and placed it gently on your chin, turning your face towards his before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. The sudden electricity of the kiss caused both of you to stiffen momentarily in surprise before melting into one another again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you locked your lips together in a moment of unspoken tenderness.

However, it got heated. His lips explored yours with a newfound hunger that had been unfulfilled till then. You felt your heart skip a beat, and couldn't help but return his intensity as you two lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Clyde’s veiny hands found its way to your soaking pussy as you softly moaned into his mouth. His hands were gentle but dominant, and before you knew it you found yourself pushing your hips against his touch, giving in to the strong craving within. He could feel your eagerness and responded with more intensity as he inserted a finger inside of you while he continued exploring your lips with deep kisses.

You gasped at the sudden pleasure as he explored different angles, sending a wave of warmth and bliss throughout your entire body. His fingers gradually increased in speed and intensity as you started feeling yourself getting closer to climax.

His thumb circled your clit, causing you to cry out in pleasure as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

"Fuck, Clyde!" You cried out, "C-Can I please cum...?" You asked him desperately, your voice shaking with lust.

Clyde felt your body start to tense up and he smiled in satisfaction, giving you one last long kiss before pulling away. With a mischievous smirk on his face, he replied, "Let go f’me.."

And with those words you could feel yourself start to come undone as the waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out in bliss, letting go of all your worries and concerns as the orgasm took hold of your entire body.

Your back now found itself laid on the couch, your breathing labored as you looked up at Clyde in admiration.

His blue eyes looked down at you with love, his hands stripping you both of any clothing you had. His lips trailed down your body, setting off fireworks within you as he made his way to pleasure you even more.

He guided his aching, hard cock to your entrance, pushing himself inch by inch into your tightness. You moaned in pleasure, clutching onto his shoulders as he moved slowly but firmly inside of you. He kissed you passionately, which made the sensations more intense with every thrust and moan that escaped from your lips.

Clyde was panting in your ear, his breath hot and heavy as pleasure cascaded through you both.

"Good girl..." He kept on chanting into your ear, the syllables heightening the moment even further as you felt your orgasm reach its pinnacle.

His thrusts were becoming erratic, the sounds of his hips colliding with yours filling the air.

"S-Shit... Cum with me," He groaned, pushing himself deeper into you as the pleasure came to its climax.

You held onto him tightly as you both shuddered in pleasure simultaneously, breathing heavily and crying out to one another. As the intensity of the moment died down, Clyde looked into your eyes with love and kissed you passionately.

Both your bodies were sweaty, sticking to each other as he laid on top of you.

"I love you," He whispered softly, his arms wrapping around your waist as you both held onto each other in solemn bliss.

You hummed, "I love you."

Maybe you should dance more often.

#rory culkin x reader #clyde x reader #electrick children #electrick children clyde #rory culkin #clyde electrick children #rory culkin smut #smut #rory culkin x y/n #clyde x y/n #need him biblically

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Sex on the Beach

Pairing(s): Shawn Mendes x male reader

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: bottom male reader, top Shawn Mendes, Shawn fucks like a feral animal, spanking, some dirty talk, ass eating, and beach sex 

Summary: You and Shawn have steamy sex at a private beach. 

Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I’m not dead! I just lose motivation quickly. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this!

XxXxXxX

You sigh in comfort, laying down on your stomach as you feel the sun beam down upon half of your body, the other half underneath the shade of an umbrella, and the wind cooling your body as you lay on the soft blanket that covers the hot sand. You could hear seagulls squawking in the background. 

Those creatures are most likely fighting over food. 

Loud ocean waves crash against the nearby rock formations, and the gentle waves crash against the beach sand. 

It was an amazing day to go to the beach. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your boyfriend coming close. “M/n!” 

You turn your head to the right as you see Shawn wearing nothing but his swimming shorts. You couldn’t help but admire his body. 

His lean-muscular body had some hair around his pecs and abs. His body glowed in the sunlight. He looked like he came out of a beach scene from a romance movie. You unconsciously licked your lips. 

“You like what you see?” Shawn said as he noticed your long stare. Your face turned red as Shawn chuckled before taking his place next to you. 

“You know, you need sunscreen to protect yourself from the sun! Here, let me help you.” Shawn said, pulling out the cream from the container near the umbrella. 

Shawn squirted some before getting behind you. You could feel his hands and long fingers massaging the cream over your back. 

You moan as Shawn continues massaging the cream, but that changes as you feel Shawn press his crotch against your ass. Smirking deviously, you begin to grind against his crotch. Feeling his cock getting hard.

Shawn freezes as he feels your bubble butt. He growls as his hands move down and grab your ass and knead it like it was dough. You whimpered but continued to tease him. 

“So, you wanna tease me with his fat ass?” Shawn pulls your shorts and begins to slap your ass. He smirks at the recoil and the red hand marks. You moan loudly as Shawn continues his attacks on your ass. 

Suddenly, you felt your lower half pulled up, your ass now in front of Shawn’s mouth. Shawn was salivating at the sight and dived into the canyon. You gripped the blanket tightly as Shawn’s tongue penetrated your hole.

Shawn ravaged your ass like a wild animal. Spreading your asscheeks apart and slapping them. One of his hands slowly begins to stroke your aching cock, already leaking pre-cum from the head. 

Your mind was getting foggy and it felt like your brain was turning into mush as Shawn continued to stroke your cock and eat your ass. Then, Shawn heard a loud moan when his tongue hit a certain part inside you.

‘So, that’s his prostate?’ With the new knowledge, Shawn repeatedly assaulted your prostate. Soon, you were a moaning mess as your cock throbbed in pain, needing a release. Shawn could sense you were close and began to stroke faster.

“Ahh⁓” You moan as your cock throbbed before shooting it load all over Shawn’s hand and the blanket. You were allowed to calm down for a moment before Shawn flipped you over onto your backside. 

Shawn pulled down his shorts along with his striped boxers to reveal his throbbing cock. You were mentally drooling at the sight of the thing.

His cock looked to be 6 inches (15.52cm) with some thickness as well. A prominent vein running down the center along smaller ones, nicely trimmed pubic hair, and nice egg size melons. (Melons - balls.)

“See what you do to me, baby?” He then proceeds to slap his cock against your already hard one. Shawn positions himself right in the middle, putting both of your legs to the side of his waist. 

“Are you ready for me, baby?” Shawn says, aiming his cock to your entrance. You nodded your head. Shawn slowly pushed his cock inside you. His eyes and head rolled back in pleasure as your tight heat swallowed him whole. 

“Shawny⁓” you moaned, gripping the blanket harder and arching your back. You slowly pushed back until swallowing his entire cock. Biting your lips, feeling the large cock throbbing inside. 

“F-fuck…” His nails dug into your hips as he could feel your ass clenching around him. Shawn leaned down to your neck, leaving kisses and hickies. “Fuck me like an animal.” you whispered into his ear. 

Shawn growls before pulling back, leaving only the head, then gives one big thrust. You moaned at the top of your lungs as if all the oxygen was knocked out. Shawn kept repeating the action, his cock always hitting your prostate. 

Your brain was turning into mush, the surrounding area becoming blurry. The constant abuse of your prostate was sending so many signals through your nerve system as if it was about to go into overdrive. 

It felt like you two were the only ones there, it was a private beach so of course you’re gonna be the only ones. You could hear both loud moans and groans along with the wet squelching sound of Shawn pounding your ass like an animal in heat, and skin slapping skin.

Both of your orgasms were close as Shawn thrust harder into you. You could see a small stomach bulge appearing. “I-I’m… close…” Shawn said, pulling and bringing your whole body closer to him.

“Me too!” wrapping your arms around Shawn’s neck. After a few more aggressive thrusts, Shawn gave one final thrust, flooding your insides with white. Cock throbbing inside your tight heat, kept spurting more. 

You also came to an orgasm, your cock spurting load after load onto Shawn’s abdomen, balls tightening and throbbing. 

“We should do this more often.”

THE END

A/N: It's been so long since I’ve written smut! I hope this fic was good! Bye, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

#x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine #male reader smut #x male reader smut #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x male reader #shawn mendes x reader

[nathanielzalexandria]

Fannon Steve Harrington is such a "you never asked so I never explicitly said (because I thought it was a known fact/obvious and I wasn't hiding it and I did mention it)" girlie and I appreciate it...

So here's some rambly angst.

The fall of 1984 was an absolute fucking nightmare for Steve. He had no friends, no girlfriend and no parents and the upside-down returned. To be fair, by simply choosing to be and stay with Nancy after last year was the main reason why most of his friendships by virtue of Steve pulling away. Nancy cheating on him and then leaving him for Byers crushed his soul and self-esteem but he should have seen it coming when he returned to school after missing a week to attend his parents funeral and she didn't acknowledge any of that, only focusing on the guilt eating at her from hiding Barbs death from her parents. It had crossed his mind to bring it up to Nancy what was going on in his life but... when they died in that accident it was all over the news and he had told her he was going to Italy to bury his parents.

His father Aidan Harrington, an Irish Hawkins born, was a famous international operatic tenor. It was during the production of La Traviata that his father met his mother Emilia and their romance and careers grew from there. They eventually got married and had their baby Stefano Harrington. So for the first few years of life he travelled with them to different productions until they eventually settled down into semi retirement until he turned 14.

It was Steve that pushed his parents to get back into opera once he entered high school. He was old enough to take care of himself and he had a phone so he could call every night. So when they died in a car accident on their way from the Opera house in Italy, Steve in that moment couldn't help but blame himself for their death. The crash was plastered over screens and the papers as the music community mourned heir loss and the funeral in Italy doubly so -now with his face attached. And for that week, he didn't cry

He had expected when he returned some acknowledgement of the event but, other than one band geek with the curly hair, that did not happen. So he did what he did best, ignore it and go to a party with Nancy on Halloween. Then everything with the upside down unfolded and there was no time.

By the time he returned from the hospital to his empty home, he broke down. He was now completely alone with no support system. Its probably why he reached out to Owens for a therapist. If it wasn't for Dr Kelly... Steve wasn't sure if he might have stayed around long enough to meet Robin and he certainly would not be around to save Eddie...

Which is how he ended up here.

In the hospital.

In a hospital bed and the rest of the party stuffed into the room.

El and her group had arrived at the hospital half an hour before and were exchanging stories from the past few days. Apparently, El was kidnapped, had regained her powers and was able to stop Vecna with the help of the guy with the amazing silky hair. Steve just watched them from the bed, trying not to move too much

"Xiomaro Argyle. But I prefer Argyle, dude" the man with the long silky hair introduced himself to Steve. somewhere in the background, Steve hears someone say, "his name is Xiomaro?"

"Stefano Harrington, but everyone calls me Steve," he replied. One of the kids echoed Stefano.

He hadn't expected Argyle's response. "Wait -like that opera couple my yaya always listens too? What were they called?"He paused as he racked his brain before snapping. "Adrian and Emilia, right? My grandma was crushed when they died in that car crash. She light's a candle for them every Dios de los Muertos. Sorry about that bro."

And at that, Steve's world froze, because this was the first person other than his parents to say those words to him. He quickly wiped the tear from his eye before the other's could see. He hadn't realised that the room had quieted.

"YOU'RE PARENTS ARE DEAD?" Dustin yelled.

Steve barely had the chance to speak when Nancy cut in, angry, for some reason.

"When did this happen and why didn't you say anything? Jesus H Christ, you're always hiding from your feelings like some macho idiot and you neve confront anything!"

Nancy had continued to berate him but Steve zoned out. Chest feeling tight with the boiling anger growing behind his sternum.

"I. did." He interrupted simply.

"No you didn't."

"I did because

You were still my fucking girlfriend at that time and it would be shitty of me not to tell you

I had to go to Italy to bury them at my mother's family cemetery according to their will. It would be wrong if I didn't tell my girlfriend I was going to be missing a week of school and why. Which I did the night I learnt about their death and I came by your house."

Nancy faltered a bit at that, losing some of her righteous fury, but she pressed on. "I would remember something like that, Steven"

"No you wouldn't. The same way you can't seem to remember that my name is Stephano and not Steven even though I told you that and it was all over my stuff home."

Her mouth clicked shut at that and an embarrassed blush covered her face. On a normal day, he would have stopped there and maybe vent to his therapist but he was still raw from the past few days and Nancy toying with his emotions only to forget about him once Johnathan came back.

"Okay, let's say I didn't tell you. My parents' death was everywhere including their funeral and you didn't see it although you always read the papers. I was not in the country for a week, which meant I was not at home for a week, and thus not in school for a week and you didn't notice that I your then-boyfriend just disappeared? You didn't think to question where I was, if you did notice, when I got back?"

There was no answer. He couldn't stop the bitter laugh from bubbling up

"Fuck. You really weren't paying attention to me? I just thought you were feeling guilty about barb and trying to fix things for her parents which is why you didn't say anything. Not just that I registered so low on your list of importance that my words just flowed into one ear and out the other."

He was getting worked up and his therapist would be disappointed that he didn't stop there. "And what about the rest of you? You saw my parents and just what? Assumed they abandoned me or something?"

The silence was now suffocating, and Steve could not stand their ashamed looks at each other.

"And none of you asked me any questions about it?

"You know what? Fuck you, Nancy! You're standing there on your pedestal, calling me a "macho idiot" that I'm hiding from my feelings as if I would have had anyone to talk to seeing that you and Johnathan avoided me once you started dating. Newsflash! That's why I have a fucking government therapist I see every Wednesday since 84!"

He let the last statement hang heavy in the air like the sword of Damocles over the group before deflating and flopping back In his hospital bed, emotionally spent. Eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Everyone, just... just leave."

He waited until he thought he heard everyone leave and looked back down, startled when he saw that Eddie was still in the room.

"Don't be too hard on the shitheads for too long. For all their collective intelligence they are still a pack of idiots too sure of themselves to not consider that surface-level Steve is all that exist."

Steve said nothing to that, already feeling shitty for blowing up on the kids, and a little less shitty about blowing up on Nancy.

"Anyway, you also seem to forget that I wished you condolences that week so maybe yoy should not be too hard on them."

At that, Steve focused on Eddie, wracking his brain and being confused with its results.

"You were a band kid?" Steve asked incredulously

Eddie lazily shrugged, "It was a phase. Now, seeing that it seems that you have it on your chest heavy enough that just hearing their names almost made you cry; tell me about your parents, Stevie."

In Steve's chest, he felt something... Flutter.

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

This one got away from me, but this is all I have. This is slightly inspired by a post I saw from piratefishmama about Steve having good parents and everyone just assumed they were bad people even though they never asked him any questions (it's deleted; don't look for it). And don't ask me why they are opera singers my brain just latched onto that being their profession and why their death was everywhere.

#this is the moment Steve falls in love with Eddie #outside the room Johnathan is trying to get back into argyle's good graces because argyly isn't happy Johnathan was such a bad friend #Nancy is reassessing her relationship with Steve and is catatonic #Robin and the party are trying to figure out what to do to make it up to steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #just thoughts

[ddejavvu]

hii! i'm absolutely OBSESSED with your fairy!reader x hotch fic and i'd like to request a sequel?? perhaps where her house gets properly destroyed and he has to take her home with him so he can make her a new one? and she helps him around the house and he starts to realise he really likes her and doesn't want her to leave?? idk whatever you want to write but i just adore the fairy au so much ugh <3 <3

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

thanks so much! i love it too <3 I couldn't fit all of that in one blurb but I've gotten many more requests for another part so I'll use one of those for the next part :) / part 1

--

The unsub doesn't come easily. Even with backup, Morgan, JJ, and Blake all surrounding him, he fires one last shot into the forest, triggering everyone else's instincts to shoot. He gets shuffled into an ambulance with a guard, bleeding from his right leg.

Hotch's brain is fuzzy, like it always is after taking down an unsub. Call it a post-adrenaline crash, call it fatigue, call it the fairy he'd seen on the way in, but whatever it was, he trudges back the way he'd come with drooping shoulders and a foggy head.

Then his foot crunches on something that isn't a stick, and he looks down curiously.

It's wood. It's wood with a bullet hole in it, splintered away from other panels. Oh shit, it's your house.

Fear pricks at his heart. Five minutes after he'd met a fairy, and you're dead? But there's no fairy guts that he can see, no pink shimmery blood smeared over the wood, so he looks wildly around at the trees nearby.

"Hotch?" Morgan calls, a few steps ahead, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hotch pants, a gust of air from his chest that feels tight at your disappearance, "Nothing, I think I dropped my badge in the scuffle. Go ahead, I'll catch up."

He makes back towards the scene of the shooting, and Morgan knows better than to disobey orders, even if he wants to.

Aaron stumbles through the wooded ground, waiting until the voices of his teammates fade into the background. He casts one wary glance behind him, but Morgan is nowhere to be found, and he heads back for your tree. It's easy to find now that there's broken wood around, but you're not.

"Hey," He calls into the woods, voice soft enough so that you can hear it from a nearby tree, but no one else can.

"Hey, are you there?"

He hears a vague sniffle up and to his left, and he turns his whole body with the clumsy vigor of a toddler.

His neck aches as he cranes it up into the tree he'd heard you in. Sure enough, your small, glowing face is peering out from behind a thick branch, arms wrapped desperately around the limb while you grieve your fallen home.

"It's broken," You whimper, and Hotch is surprised he can hear your quiet voice, "I was just getting new bedding, 'cause mine got blown away when my house got knocked down. But then I heard that awful noise, and- and it's gone!"

"I know," Hotch murmurs, voice like silky sympathy, "I'm sorry. I- I can't- there's nothing I can do to fix it. All I have is my gun."

"I don't like those," You blubber, wiping a shimmering teardrop from your eye, "Please don't use that."

"I won't." He promises, "Where will you live?"

"I don't know," You gush, raw emotion shaking your voice like an earthquake, "A little boy made that for me years ago, he was the only other person I've ever talked to. But now- now he's gone, and he can't make me a new one, and all the good hidey holes are already occupied, and-!"

You burst into sobs, and Aaron eyes the lower branches of your tree with apprehension. Slowly, but surely, he grabs hold of a higher limb, testing his weight on the lowest bough.

It brings him just below your level, and you peer down at him through teary, curious eyes.

"Come with me," He offers, after quick deliberation. He holds one hand out, the other tightening around the tree branch as he offers you his palm.

"What?" You rub at one of your eyes, voice pitiful, "Where?"

"Back to my house." He puts his hand even closer to your feet, "A little boy lives with me. My son. He can make you a new house."

"Really?" You peer at him with a hopeful shimmer in your eyes, wings fluttering slightly, "You'd let me come home with you?"

"It's the least I can do," Aaron reasons, "And I'm sure my son will love having a fairy in the house."

That's what earns him the soft pitter-patter of your feet in his palm, then the way you softly flump down into a cross-legged sit there. He lowers you to his chest, keeping his hand pressed there as he then lowers himself. Once his feet are back on the ground, he wonders where to put you. But you've thought ahead, apparently, because you slip between his kevlar vest and his shirt, nestling yourself snugly in his chest pocket.

You're a little squished, but you grin up at him with red-rimmed, grateful eyes.

"Thank you," You lean your head against his chest, and Aaron can barely feel it, "I'm glad I talked to you earlier."

"Me too," Aaron bites back a smile, trudging back towards the rest of his team, once-foggy brain now occupied with the thought: And not just for the directions you gave me.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner au #fairy!reader #aaron hotchner x fairy!reader #ddejavvu’s multiverse mondays #multiverse mondays

[2frosty4you]

omg ah thank u so much for doing my request i loved it!! so much so that id like to send in another!

the mercs finding reader napping on the couch with the stray cat she took in sleeping atop of her chest?:3 maybe with soldier itd be with one of his raccoons, and with medic itd be archimedes:)

Finding you asleep with a cat [Drabbles]

All mercs x fem!reader | 813 words | masterlist | Ask/Request Hey I'm glad you loved your last request, it was nice to write smth for all the mercs! :DD

╔═════════════════╗

Scout:

Coming back to base after a contracted mission scout was drained mentally and physically. With bandages covering parts of his body and small specs of blood seeping through them.

He opened the door and was met with you laying on his bed with a small orange kitten resting on top of your chest. Which rose and fell slowing telling him you were asleep.

His brain shut down from the sight, then he quietly (as quiet as scout can) moved towards the bed and cooed at the kitten. Its purring loud against his hand as it stretched.

"awwwwwwww"

He pet the kitten as you stirred awake and he laughed.

Soldier:

Soldier always keeps track of his raccoons, and when one. Being Lieutenant bites, was missing he was on a destructive mission to find the mammal.

Crashing through doors, ripping lids from crates and shouting

"LIEUTENTANT!?"

At every dark spot in the base until through his train of destruction he stopped and saw you.

Bites was laid on your stomach, your hand resting on the raccoons head as the two of you slept through his search.

Pyro:

Pyro came bounding through the door, a skip in their step as their feet stalled and eyes focused on you. Laying on the couch on your stomach with a large gray cat laying on your back stretched out and purring softly.

"MHf!"

They gasped, shuffling over as their hand came to the cat's face. Carefully scratching its fur up top its head. With muffled glee they pet the cat and listened to your soft snores.

Demoman:

"aye, lass are you here-"

Demo stopped his sentence short as his eye saw you curled up on the sofa with the smallest kitten he had ever seen laid curled up within your sleeping figure.

Coming closer he chuckled, finding the view just adorable. petting the cat's body softly as it yawned and a soft purr echoed from it.

Heavy:

The large Russia had found you asleep with two extremely fluffy cats which sat up top of your chest and stomach.

Covering you in pure fluff as you slept on the couch of the base. Not waking when scout came over and tried to touch the cats, which both hissed at him.

Heavy sat down on the other end of the couch, conflicted as he rose a hand to move hair from your face and the cats both stared deep into his soul.

They watched him as heavy's fingers moved hair from your mouth and then touched the gray cat on your stomach. They happily purred loudly as scout complained in the background with medic cursing at him.

Engineer:

Turning his head to speak he paused, eyebrows furrowed as he saw you snoozing on the lounge chair he placed in the workshop for you.

Not confused from you sleeping, but from the white cat which was curled up on your lap. its eyes closed as it purred.

"Ain't that a sight"

He smiled, moving his goggles off his eyes to crouch down to the cat's level and pat it with his flesh hand. Then went back to work, but was careful to not use any of his machinery until you woke again.

Medic:

The 'doctor' had left quickly to fix up soldier after soldier had decided to blow his legs off. When he came back he saw you with your head resting on your hands on his desk. With Archimedes nested into your hair. Cooing proudly as the bird had moved it's body into your hair causing it to look as if it swallowed him up.

"Archimedies!?"

He exclaimed, rushing over cooing at the sight. Moving your hair from your face as you snored softly into your arms.

Making the doctor smile and the bird nested into your hair make a purr like noise.

Sniper:

He had left you for 5 minutes alone in his trailer and you had both managed to find a scraggy looking brown cat AND to fall asleep with the cat curled up on the crook of your neck.

Sniper felt his heart jump a little, confused on the cat but the view made him walk closer. Quietly for both you and the cat. Grabbing a blanket to cover you and moving hair from your face softly.

The aussie left you to sleep and just cleaned his refile with a smile

Spy:

He watched you take the cat from outside, the small thing was shaking and pathetic before you grabbed it and nuzzled your face into it.

It was a small black short hair and when spy saw you curled up with in on the couch he couldn't take the feeling of his chest tightening as he sighed and covered you and the cat with a blanket and quickly snapped a photo.

Smiling he placed the polaroid in his suit and left you and the cat to sleep.

╚═════════════════╝

#↪⋆GhosyFrost #↪⋆GhostyWrites #↪⋆GhostyDrabbles #↪⋆Tf2 #↪⋆Requests #Sniper #sniper x reader #tf2 #tf2 x reader #reader x tf2 #fem reader #tf2 heavy #tf2xreader #tf2 spy #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 soldier #x reader #team fortress 2 #medic x reader #spy x reader #heavy x reader #pyro x reader #engineer x reader #demoman x reader #soldier x reader #team fortress #team fortress two x reader #scout

[hordraomin]

Krita tutorial the way I know it.

Basics: What is where.

Gimmicks.

Specific advice on specific tools.

Basics: What is where.

Upon opening the program this is what you're met with. First of all, must comment: The layout is HEAVILY editable so you can just drag menus anywhere you want, even leave them floating amidst the sheet you're drawing on.

You can create custom art templates, I have two o'mine here as both have my signature background color.

As well, you can edit the custom document settings, as in what size you want it, what resolution, even the initial content of the image. As well you can create from clipboard: Just copy some image from your browser and Krita will recognize it (useful for making meme edits lol).

Now, once you have your file, I will show you what is where.

Brushes:

Brushes are easy to edit and there are tons of free bundles to download online. I myself only got one bundle, Jackpack (bit hard to find now due to original source being lost, it is still available but bit tricky to come by).

There. Are. Tons.

Some of these are my custom brushes for calligraphy in neography, you might even guess which ones. You can edit existing brushes, make new ones from the ones you've edited without changing the original, and all sorts of stuff (more below in the third chapter).

There are numerous packages of brushes once you enter Krita, but only one/two are available when you first open it. To unlock them all, click here:

And make sure all bundles are dark gray in color (example of both dark and light below).

Now Tools Options: those will pop up depending on what tool you're using.

Symmetry: Fun stuff. You can drag the lines depending on how you need them and then center them back to the center of the screen if needed.

Gradients and Textures also have their tools options, you can play with those to get the feeling what they can do (more in third chapter).

The Filters tab is useful too. Blurring, motion blurring, color mapping, artistic filters and all that: Quite fun.

Gimmicks.

Krita allows you to customize your workspace freely. Floating menus, tabs, anything you want. It has quite many drivers at that-

To access the workspace templates, go to Window and choose Workspace.

Krita allows for copy-pasting any image onto the sheet. Though, for me it sometimes crashes if I accidentally copy-paste text into it without choosing the Text tool first.

The software allows for both raster and vector work. It is basically Photoshop sharpened to be used by artists primarily.

There are some interesting mechanics regarding the Eraser (default bind E).

You can use it with any brush, allowing for textured erasure/quick work. Good for sketching.

You can use it on gradients (given there's a transparent point on the gradient preset).

There's a Multibrush tool:

People say Krita is good for animation but my brain can't wrap around it yet honestly @~@.

The keybinds:

B - Brush tool.

E - Erase tool option.

M - Mirror (useful for checking accuracy from a new angle).

Ctrl - Color pick (when used with brush or other color-using tools).

Shift+L.Mouse+drag - Changes the size of the brush by dragging left and right.

Ctrl+E - Merge layer with the one below.

Ctrl+G - Group selected layers.

Ctrl+A - Select whole sheet.

Ctrl+Shift+A - Deselect everything.

F - Bucket tool.

G - Gradient tool.

Ctrl+S - Save document.

Ctrl+Shift+S - Save As document.

Ctrl+N - New document.

Ctrl+O - Open document (will be seen in a new tab on top of the sheet).

Ctrl+C - Copy selected layer or selection.

Ctrl+X - Cut selected layer or selection.

Ctrl+V - Paste copied/cut layer or selection.

Q - Multibrush tool.

R.Mouse - Interesting thing: Opens up a quick selector for brushes and colors you've already used in the piece.

1 - Zoom 100%.

2 - Zoom to fit the piece vertically.

3 - Zoom to fit the piece horizontally.

4, 5, 6 - Turn 15 degrees (4 and 6) or undo the turning whatsoever (5).

Ctrl+I - Negative filter applied to layer.

Ctrl+U - Color editing on the layer.

Ctrl+Y - Soft proofing mode (for color mistakes and stuff like that, mostly annoying for me tbh).

Ctrl+T - Transform selection/layer.

Ctrl+R - Square select tool.

Ctrl+J - Lasso select tool.

Honestly you can just hover your mouse over tools and see their shortcut binds, as well. Or edit them in Settings.

Specific advice on specific tools.

Brush:

Brush editor is a great tool for making custom brushes, and it even has a sratchpad to test them out. Lots of settings, but no need to be afraid; Most of them you might never use on purpose.

Use Brush Smoothing for great and pretty lines in lining pieces or making calligraphy.

Gradient:

The four icons to the right top are:

Mirror gradient.

Arrange by lightness value.

Arrange by color value.

Space the stops evenly.

Click the gradient to add a new stop. The three things to the left are:

Make the stop use Primary Color.

Make the stop use Secondary Color.

Make the stop use a fixed color.

#krita #krita tutorial #art #art tutorial #tutorial #hordraomin

[munsonfamilyband]

So, since my last post kind of popped off, I decided to continue it. Here’s part 2 of the Different Meeting AU:

Robin knew within a week of that first hangout that Steve was interested in someone. She ambushed him at their new job, demanding he fill her in. What follows is a very awkward coming out on Steve’s part (“Why didn’t you say anything when I came out to you??” “I was still drugged! I forgot!”) and then an even more awkward explanation of who he is interested in and how they met. Robin was unsurprisingly supportive and helps wingman from the background, which mostly consists of getting Steve in progressively tinier clothes for his and Eddie’s now biweekly smoke sessions.

When they finally do get together, Steve clears it with Eddie before telling her the next day at work. She jumps up and down from excitement and demands to meet him. And just like that, Steve had two best friends who also get along, and one of them was also his crazy hot boyfriend. The next six months pass in a haze of happiness, until it pops on a particular Saturday morning in late March.

Spring break has just started, and Steve is only a little grumpy. Eddie had called Family Video yesterday around lunch time to tell Steve he wouldn’t be able to come over right after the game that night because he had a client coming over. This didn’t upset Steve, what left him so grumpy was that Eddie had said he would call after the client left and he never did. Steve isn’t insecure, after 6 months he is very secure in his relationship. No, Steve isn’t insecure, but he is clingy so he always gets a little cranky when he hasn’t seen Eddie in a bit.

Robin picks up on his mood as soon as he picks her up, because of course she does, and she spends the next couple hours joking with him to try to bring up his mood. It actually starts working a bit before his mood crashes back down when he tunes into the news playing on the TV. On the screen, grainy as it is, is a trailer he knows just as well as his own house, with a very familiar van parker outside it. The words “murder” and “Hawkins High student” sink into his brain and the panic starts to set it.

“Robin.” Steve calls her name, but she’s still busy sorting movies, so he calls her name a couple more times before reaching out to grab her wrist without taking his eyes off the screen. “Robin, I need-“ The panic leaking into his tone finally gets her attention and she spins around to look at the TV just in time to hear the reporter say that Eddie is currently missing.

“Oh shit- okay, Steve, I need you to take a deep breath for me. Come on, deep breath.” She turns him toward her, holding his face between her hands. “They said he’s missing, so he might be okay, we don’t know right now-“

“But he might be hurt, whoever did this, they could have taken him-“

“Steve, you need to breathe-“ Her attempts at calming him are interrupted by the bell above the door, getting them both to turn around and face Dustin and Max. The four of them stare at each other for a beat before Dustin speaks.

“How many phones do you have?”

“What?” Steve manages to snap himself out of his panic in the face of Dustin’s own fear.

“How many phones do you have?”

“Uh, Two I think? Why-“ Steve is cut off by Dustin throwing his bag over the counter and leaping over it, knocking tapes onto the floor. “Hey, dude, no! My tapes! Can you explain why you need our phones?”

“I don’t have time for this, Max, could you..?” Max rolls her eyes but turns to Steve and Robin to explain.

“Last night I saw Eddie Munson come home with Chrissy Cunningham, and then 15 minutes later I heard screaming and I saw Eddie run like hell out of his trailer. I was able to see inside this morning and Chrissy was laying on the floor with her eyes sucked out of her head. Now, we’re trying to find Eddie.”

Steve feels like his stomach has disappeared, replaced entirely with a solid ball of fear. He thanks whatever is out there for Robin, because she speaks up before he has to try.

“You don’t think- is this another mall situation?” Steve can feel his knees shaking and Robin grabs his hand tightly to support him.

“I don’t know, but it seems like it might be.”

Steve takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and pull his shit together before speaking up.

“Dustin, grab your shit, let’s go.” Without even waiting for an answer, he grabs his keys and starts walking for the door. As he’s walking he turns to walk backwards, seeing no one moving. “Let’s go! Do you want to find Eddie or not?” Continuing his path out the doors he hears Dustin yelling questions at him, but he can also hear him scrambling to get his stuff together. By the time Steve reaches his car everyone has nearly reached him and he doesn’t hesitate when getting in his car, starting it as everyone gets inside.

Robin sits in the passenger’s seat and keeps shooting his worried glances. Dustin and Max keep asking questions, but Steve ignores them, only listening to Robin.

“Are you sure you know where he is?”

“Yeah, we’ve been here a bunch lately. Rick’s in prison right now so no one comes around the house but us.”

“Okay, if you’re sure, then I’ll trust you.”

“The only other place I can think he would go would be mine, but he would have shown up last night-“

“I’m sorry, do you and Eddie KNOW each other???” Dustin’s words manage to finally pierce the wall of focus in Steve’s head, but Max responds before he can answer.

“Duh, Steve is at Eddie’s all the time.” Dustin stares at Steve like he’s grown another head.

“And no one said anything, why???”

“It was funny.”

“It was FUNNY?!?! What the hell, Steve?!”

“Language, Henderson.”

“Oh my god, now is not the time-“ Steve pulls into the driveway of Reefer Rick’s house, slamming the car into park.

“Shut up, we’re here. If you’re coming, then get out.” Without waiting for any answers, Steve climbs out of the car, rushing over to the front door. “Eddie? Eddie, are you here?” Peering through the windows Steve can see the remnants of the picnic they had at the house the weekend before, but no sign of Eddie. Dustin, as tactful as ever, starts banging on the door and yelling. “Dude! He’s in hiding, be quiet!”

“He needs to know it’s us!” Steve groans, leaning against the siding of the house.

“Hey guys, look!” Max yells over from her spot in the driveway, and Steve suddenly remembers the other part of the property.

“The boat house, how did I forget the boat house.” Their group run over to the boat house, pushing inside with Dustin calling out Eddie’s name. Steve grabs an oar, carefully walking around the boat house. Knowing Eddie, he would be terrified and when he’s spooked he gets aggressive. With this knowledge, Steve should have been more prepared when Eddie jumps out of the boat and shoves Steve up against the wall, broken bottle held to his neck.

Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flit across his face, watches the recognition down across his features and he watches as Dustin’s words sink into Eddie’s head. Steve just grins shyly at Eddie with his head tilted back to avoid to sharp glass.

“Usually I wouldn’t be opposed to this, but there are children here.” His joke does what Steve had hoped, making Eddie huff a laugh and stumble backwards to sit down.

“What are you doing here?” Steve feels his heart crack at the fear still lacing Eddie’s voice, and he carefully slides over to Eddie’s side. He holds a hand out to stop Dustin as Steve settle in next to Eddie, prying the bottle out of his hand and gently laces their fingers together.

“I saw the news this morning, and then Henderson showed up at Family Video looking to find you. I figured that I could save us some time and just come right here.” Eddie manages to tilt one side of his mouth up in a small grin, clearly happy to see Steve despite the anxiety of this whole situation. “Eddie, what happened last night? You said you had work, what happened?”

Eddie grips Steve’s hand a little tighter, his other hand coming up to rest on the back of Steve’s neck and takes a deep breath to speak, but because he has no filter, Dustin interrupts him.

“Okay, what is happening right now? Before today I didn’t know you guys even knew each other, and now you’re holding hands? Why are you guys sitting like that? How do you even know each other? Why did Steve know you would be here?” They both glance at each other, making meaningful eye contact before coming to the same conclusion. Eddie simply shrugs.

“Me or you?” They had thankfully discussed this before, and Eddie worked some gay couples into his campaigns to see how the kids would react. They all seemed okay with it, so they weren’t terribly worried about telling the truth.

“Who do you think he’ll be more mad at?”

“You, probably.”

“Fair, you should say it then.” Eddie grins and turns to Dustin to speak.

“I’m dating your babysitter, surprise. Now can we get back to the cheerleader in my trailer?”

“Yes-“

“No! You’re DATING??!?! And you never said ANYTHING?”

“Dustin, now isn’t the time-“

“Henderson, we have a much bigger potential problem and we need to figure out if that is what’s happening.” Steve levels Dustin with a glare, which seems to knock some sense into him.

“Fine, but we are discussing this later.”

“Thank you. Go ahead, Eddie.” Eddie leans his forehead against Steve’s temple briefly to stabilize himself before he launches into his explanation of the previous night’s events. As he tells the story the dawning horror in Steve’s gut grows stronger, knowing with awful understanding that the upside down was, in fact, back, and the one person he wanted to protect was now part of it.

“Okay, Eds, remember how you asked about my nightmares and I told you that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you?” Steve can see Eddie beginning to put the dots together, the same fear Steve feels being reflected back at him now.

“Yeah, and I told you I would always believe you.”

“Well, I’m gonna hold you to that now. It all started on November 6th, 1983, the night Will Byers disappeared.”

————————

I do have more ideas about this so if you want more, let me know.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #Different Meeting AU #that last part became my most popular post in like a day so heres more lol

[cyraclove]

Happy Sunday, have a little hellcheer thing that I needed to evict from my brain:

Eddie is ten years old. He wakes up around the same time he usually does on Saturday mornings and shuffles into the bathroom, bleary-eyed and barefooted.

It’s quiet this morning. There’s no coffee maker gurgling, no newspaper rustling. He doesn’t hear the muffled sound of a newscaster droning on about the weather. That’s weird.

As he runs his toothbrush under the faucet, Eddie thinks back to the night before. His dad had come home late, tearing through the house looking for something. His words were slushy as he stumbled around, muttering something about a suitcase.

Eddie had watched him for a while until he tired himself out and slumped into his armchair like he usually did. He’d still be there in the morning, wearing the same clothes as the night before.

He isn’t, though. Not this morning.

Furrowing his brow, Eddie pokes his head into his father’s room. The bed’s empty, still made.

“Dad?”

There’s no answer, just the soft clink and whir of the ceiling fan above him.

Eddie walks out and into the kitchen, a strange tightness in his chest. Sunlight streams in through the window above the kitchen sink, but there’s not a single light on. Nearly all of the cabinet doors have been left open.

A rusted, red Folgers coffee can lays toppled over on the counter. There are two quarters on the floor right beneath it. Fifty cents, Eddie thinks to himself. Two more and he’d have a whole dollar.

The front door creaks open and Eddie startles, whipping his head toward the sound.

“Dad?”

It’s not his dad. A tall, graying man with a sad, weary smile stands in the doorway. Eddie recognizes him from pictures and a couple of Christmases. He looks older than the last time he’d seen him.

“Uncle Wayne?”

Wayne sighs as he crosses the room toward Eddie. His eyes are wet as he looks down at him. “Hey, kiddo,” he says softly. “Still in your jammies, huh?”

Something icky gurgles in the pit of Eddie’s stomach, the same feeling he gets when he knows he’s done something to make his father mad. This isn’t right.

“Where’s dad?”

Eddie sees Wayne wince, swallowing hard. He pauses, like he’s not sure what to say. “Listen, Ed—“

Before Wayne can finish, Eddie darts past him and all but crashes into the screen door, running out onto the deck. The wood is gritty and wet from the rain the night before. His father’s truck is gone.

Eddie’s face is hot and his eyes sting as he looks around. There’s no one outside but him.

“Dad?”

The wind whines through the trees.

“Dad?”

A dog barks from behind the fence next door.

“Dad?”

Eddie swivels toward the unfamiliar voice, gentle and kind. Machines beep and hum in the background as he stands next to a hospital bed, his clammy hand wrapped tightly around the plastic bedrail.

A nurse in a papery yellow gown smiles up at him as she cradles a snugly swaddled, ruddy-faced newborn.

Eddie’s throat is thick. His voice sounds all croaky when he speaks. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” the nurse chuckles. “You ready to meet your boy?”

The air leaves Eddie’s lungs when the baby is placed gently in his arms, a wiggly, fussy little thing that can’t possibly weigh any more than a dictionary. He’s soft and warm and staring right up at Eddie with big, pale blue eyes.

Eddie turns to Chrissy, laying in the hospital bed looking breathless and beautiful. She’s sweaty and starlit and beaming at him, her lashes glittery and damp.

“A boy?” he asks her. They’d waited to find out. “Did she say boy?”

Chrissy nods, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Yesterday’s mascara smears her cheek as she gives him a sniffly smile.

The mattress dips as Eddie gingerly sits on the edge of the bed next to Chrissy, her hand resting on his thigh. She’s all wires and medical tape and hospital bracelets. She’s amazing.

He stares down at the little boy nestled into the crook of his arm, at their son. Chrissy leans her head on his shoulder and his heart feels too big for his ribcage.

“Hey, kiddo,” he murmurs. “Happy birthday.”

#hellcheer #cyraclove writes #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddissy #i couldn’t help myself #writers on tumblr #eddie x chrissy