#mia fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashydez · 2 months ago

Text

like a phoenix. (2.7k words)

what if phoenix- instead of being virtually indestructible, actually wasnt? what if he was actually incredibly prone to death, but he just… never stayed dead?

(trigger warning for a multitude of causes of deaths!! some in detail and some not. other tw’s include implied suicide attempts, implied child neglect, derealisation and thinking one is already dead. be warned! take care of yourself!)

at 9, he wakes in his bed after having a high fever and his mom ships him off to school hours after it began. he finds it odd, because last he’d checked his temperature (that morning, when he told his mom he felt like he was going to die and his mom had left to go run errands, barely sparing him a glance), his temperature had been at 107 degrees farenheit. that was definitely high, but after he slipped into unconsciousness, writhing and restless and in a lot of pain, he woke up to his mother checking his temperature and saying he was fine to head off to school. he didnt feel fine, but his temperature had gone down significantly enough that his mother felt like he had no excuse not to go. hes glad he went to school though, even as he shivered, sneezed and sniffled, because there he found a friend in a boy with a funny bowtie and a heart made of gold.

he crunches and chokes on glass shards and poison but doesnt die. the doctors dont find anything wrong with him, aside from feeling a bit ill, so he goes back into the courtroom and dollie is convicted of murder. hes happy his roommate is away for some theatre troupe thing, because the sickness eventually catches up to him and he throws up shards of glass, acid and blood. it cuts into his throat and burns his eyes and he swears, he swears he dies right then and there, freezing and shaking and everything hurts. but when he wakes up hours later, the sun having set and the only light source in his dingy dormroom the moon outside, hes amazed to not feel sick anymore. but the puddle of sludge is drying beside his face and he considers himself lucky, or maybe unlucky, because unlike dahlia’s other victims, he actually lives to tell the tale.

phoenix arrives early to the office, having been in the public library nearby reading a book on reincarnation. he enters the office and promptly has his skull caved into his brain. he does not see his assailant, but when he wakes, theres an oddly dressed girl crying, crouched over his boss’ cold body. he doesn’t think about the drying blood in the back of his head, or how cold mia’s body is (and why he can even tell, considering the fact he has not touched her corpse) or the chapter in the book he’d been reading that talked about quantum immortality— all he thinks of is proving maya fey’s innocence.

as it turns out, being constantly anxious and terrified of mortal peril actually has its perks. maybe the fact he’s a lawyer whose only ever dealt with homicide cases definitely wasn’t benefiting his mental wellbeing either. in any case, its that fear of literally everything and constant feeling of impending doom that makes his body react before his mind does. taser! danger! maya! so, he gets tasered. and it fucking HURTS, but he feels more relieved than frightened as the searing pain shoots through him, because he’d been able to push maya away before von karma got to them both. wasnt a symptom of death by electrocution an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and imminent death? maybe he was going crazy. when he comes back though, its to his head in the lap of a crying spirit medium, so maybe a psychotic break isnt too bad if it means everyone else gets to escape with no damage to their own psyche.

its only after she stops screaming in terror- oh my god, nicks a zombie!! kyahh!!!- and nearly beating him with her bulky magatama necklace, that she tells him what she saw. (“like, there was a sudden bright light and then i realised it was coming from you! but when i tried to touch your glowing skin,” she says it like its the most absurd thing she’d ever seen, which really said something considering the fact she was from a family of people who could channelthe dead “it was HOT! like, japanifornia summer hot! blazing! i was only able to check your pulse after you cooled down a bit…”). maybe its this that makes him less alarmed by the way his skin glowed in the dark of his trashed bedroom, after drinking himself to death following a certain phone call from a terribly sad, newly bossless detective. he doesnt think he can bear the taste alcohol ever again, after that.

maybe the number of times he’s died of blunt force trauma to the head should be a cause for concern, even more so when he wakes up without any of his memories. he’s terrified, and doesnt even knows who he is, until he does, and is able to prove maggey byrde innocent. fun times! he should probably watch out to make sure his next death wasn’t to the head, lest he be as mentally impaired as a number of people liked to say he was… (and he should probably also be concerned by the fact he was already thinking of the next time he’d die, but ah well, blame it on the concussion).

as it turns out, getting whipped to death was not on his list of ways he thought he’d die next, but life liked to mess with him like that, it seemed. still, dragging his delirious self to the bathroom of his office to try and save the infected wounds from killing him wasn’t all that fun, and he’s immediately reminded of his first death, slow and painful, alone and scared of what came next. he feels bad for feeling relieved when maya shows up and screams upon seeing the state he and the bathroom (that’d he’d accidentally trashed when his legs gave out after he opened the door, a number of bottles fallen to the floor beside him) were in. he stops her from calling the police- there was no point, he didn’t have much time left. but when she asks what she could do, he goes quiet. (…just… stay here? i dont- he coughs up a distinctly red shade of spit. maya makes a noise between a choked cry and a whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. but phoenix was shivering worse now, and hugs himself tigher. i dont want to die alone.) so she stays with him, on the cold bathroom floor, as his labored breathing eventually slows. when he awakens, he finds maya asleep leaning against him, and promises to get her burgers as a thank you.

who knew death by a monkey throwing a giant bronze bust of max galactica at you could happen? at this point, he’s almost glad he was basically immortal, because there was no way in hell he’d allow his autopsy report to say ‘cause of death: monkey manslaughter’! edgeworth would laugh himself to tears if he saw! not that he could see. or cry, because he was dead. and not coming back. damn.

so edgeworth isnt dead! yippee? he thought it was his thing to get reanimated after death, not edgeworths. when he saw him, standing in the middle of the police department, alive and breathing and very much not dead, he nearly started laughing. he must’ve finally gone insane! curse the amount of times he’d died of brain related injuries, not that he knew how many of them there were at this point. he might actually have laughed a bit, because pearls was looking at him like he was losing it (he was) but he couldnt really bring himself to care as he had more pressing issues at hand, like saving his best friend from a crazy serial killer holding her hostage, and punching his other best friend in the face for faking his own death (because really, dying was his thing! not edgeworths!). and if he pulls edgeworth into a hug immediately after, throwing caution in the wind (you only live once, right?), the warmth- a normal, human temperature, unlike his burning hot when he came back from death- is enough to stabilise his harried mind for just a moment, before he has to return to his guilty client and his hopeless situation.

by some crazy turn of events, he actually doesnt die from having boiling hot coffee thrown at his face. it burns, and maya screams when she sees the boils on his face after that first trial with godot, but after throwing a wet towel over his face and putting him in timeout on the sofa for 12-hours, the burns go away as if they were never there. he fell asleep at some point, and after alot of back and forth debate, they eventually came to the conclusion that 1. his body heat rising to burning levels when he dies must have caused his body has to grow immune to heat and 2. since sleep was like a ‘temporary death’, a ‘temporary wound’ would just heal like it did when he died of normal wounds, right? he didn’t want to dwell on it too much, because maya was looking at him like she wanted to test that theory for real, so he quickly changes topics before things got out of hand.

so their theory on the immunity to heat thing was correct! …almost. larry had tried to stop him, but it was fire and he was basically immune to heat, right? nope! his skin burned and boiled but he didn’t die as he tried to run across the burning bridge. even so, nothing hurt more than falling through one of the burnt planks and slamming onto the surface of the freezing cold rushing stream below. luckily the death was near immediate, but unfortunately he came to while in the water still, so he swallowed a sizeable amount of water before paramedics arrived. he hears the doctors find his survival miraculous, despite the scorching hot fever he was now under. he blacks out again, and comes to in the hospital, feeling absolutely terrible.

the horribleness feels familiar though, and when edgeworth walks in, he realises what it must be, when the man presses the back of his hand to his temple and quickly pulls his hand away as if burned. (oh. he thinks, tearing up despite himself. it must be the fever. i’m going to die like this again.) his internal monologue must’ve been external though, because edgeworth balks (‘again?!’). but phoenix was crying in hiccups and sobs, feeling terrible and like he was nine years old again, wishing his mother were there to nurse him back to health like she’d never done before. he faintly hears edgeworth sitting down on his bed and reaches out, gripping the mans waist like it was a lifeline. in a sense, it was. “don’t go.” he whispers, gripping the man tighter like he’d disappear into thin air (again). “please, please don’t go.” in his delirium, he nearly wails in despair when he feels edgeworth move, but he was only moving to readjust himself so he’s lying next to him, their bodies so close that it must burn, but the only sign edgeworth shows that he’s in pain is a wince and the crease of his brow. he allows himself to be cried on, curling a protective arm over phoenix’s burning body. “i- i dont know what’s going on, wright, but i’m not, i’m not going anywhere, okay?” he seems to be attempting exasperation, but it comes out terrified and concerned, but phoenix is fading quickly, so it might just be his waning mind making up things that don’t exist. “i am terrified. your body is life threateningly hot and— wright? wright!”

he comes to with nurses surrounding him, and a distressed edgeworth swearing on his life that that man was dead, his body was seizing and on fire and- and his heart stopped beating! but phoenix couldn’t dwell on it, because the mention of fire immediately brought him back to why he was in the hospital at all. and plus, it gave him the chance to use his best friends sensitive treatment of him afterwards to convince him to play defense attorney, so that was nice. still, he feels like he dies when he finds out dahlia had actually been iris and that godot was actually his dead mentors apparently not dead boyfriend. oh, and he was also a murderer. he also feels like he dies when dahlia- actual, serial killer and dead by execution dahlia, was exorcised from maya’s body. but that had more to do with his soul leaving his body in terror rather than actually dying, so that was a nice change of pace… probably.

later, he’d had to have a conversation with edgeworth to give him an explanation on just what the hell he’d witnessed in that hospital room. although, apparently his re-aliving symptoms must’ve started becoming more dramatic, because miles describes it as his whole body glowing as bright as the sun, and then his eyes opening for a moment to reveal nothing but white, glowing eyeballs with no irises. phoenix has to convince him to still board his flight the day after, that he was okay… probably. maybe not safe, but definitely okay. (still, edgeworth stays the night at his, and they hold eachother close, basking in the shared warmth of two alive bodies in heat equilibrium, listening to eachothers breathing and rhythmic heartbeats, no signs of impending mortality in sight, save for, what did the french call it? la petite morte? most of all, phoenix basks in the promise miles makes to him. “i’m not going anywhere,” he repeats, over and over like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was phoenix. “i’m not going anywhere, i promise.”)

and when he loses his badge, he thinks he really does die, permanent and definitively. he feels far away from his body when the forger is called to the witness stand. feels like a ghost when the council walks out the room and past him, making no eye contact and answering the unanswered question on the tip of his tongue. feels his life crumble to pieces when a blonde man with a pleasent, almost saintly smile gives him the most maddeningly sympathetic look and tells him he is sorry for his loss, as if there really was someone dead. only, the only one dead must’ve been him, because there was no one else there who had just lost their life. he couldn’t even hear himself as he laughed, which turned into sobs, as he excused himself and fleed to his bicycle. not one pedestrian bats an eye at the state he is in, so he must really be a ghost, cycling past speeding cars and large trucks and buses as if it couldn’t kill him, because he wasn’t there, he was already dead. when he reaches his office, freezing and quiet and dreadfully void of any human life, he passes by the window his boss had died at and sees his reflection, unkempt and red faced and badgeless. he wants to scream, but he couldn’t because no one would hear a ghost scream, so instead he just sits down in the spot his mentor had lost her life in, and mourns.

when two weeks later a warm, incredible alive life falls into his hands in the shape of a little girl with a too big tophat and a joy for being alive that he’d lost years ago, well, maybe he is glad that he couldn’t die for real, if only to be able to wake up to that beaming grin as his little girl tries to pull her daddy out of bed because she’d made breakfast, and it only smells burnt because of the magic something she’d added as a special ingredient. he eats it, char and all, because he can’t taste the burnt-ness of it anyway, but he could taste the love and care put into it, and that was more than enough to take his mind away readying himself for his next death. instead, he thinks of his daughter’s next performance at the wonder bar, and their next trip to kurain, and miles’ next visit. for once, he thinks of living.

202 notes · View notes

ladymochimochi · 6 months ago

Text

✦♡✦ Rainy Mornings ✦♡✦

Katakuri x Fem!Reader [AO3 Link] Description: On a cozy, rainy morning, you and Katakuri spend some time together in bed. Tags: Morning sex, Sleepy sex, Quickie, Hand job, Kata & Reader are married, Size difference (Reader is slightly sized up to better fit Kata), 18+ MDNI Words: 751 ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

A distant rumble of thunder brought you out of your sleep this morning. As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you could hear the sound of rain outside. It made you not want to get out of bed and just stay nice and cozy but there were things do be done. You started to sit up to get out of bed when large arms wrapped around you, dragging you to the massive, warm form of your husband.

“Not yet.” You heard Katakuri grumble above you and it seemed like he had the same thought as you. You snuggled your face into his chest, the two of you now laying on your sides towards each other. Being in his arms on a rainy morning like this was absolutely perfect.

Maybe you could wait a little longer to get the day started.

He gripped you tighter so your bodies pressed together more and you felt his arousal against you.

Perhaps you could wait quite a while longer to get the day started.

You pulled slightly away from him to trace your fingers along the lines of his tattoos. He sighed contently at your touch and your fingers followed those pink lines down to waistband of his sweat pants. Using one hand to tug down the front of his sweat pants, you started to stroke his large shaft using the other.

He choked out a gasp at your actions and it only fueled you to keep going. Your hand went up and down his cock, earning soft groans from your husband. You looked up at him and could see him staring down at you, a blush on his face, his eyebrows knitted together, panting slightly.

Seeing him like this made pressure start to build in your lower stomach. It was a favorite sight of yours - your big, strong husband a whimpering, blushing mess and all because of you.

After a few more minutes of stroking him, you pulled your hand away to then put it on his hip. You pulled him towards you as you rolled onto your back and he followed your lead. Katakuri was now hovering above you, your legs lazily wrapped around his hips. One hand braced near your head resting on the pillows, he used his other to take off his pants. You pulled your nightie over your head, the two of you now fully naked together.

Katakuri dipped his head down to kiss you gently. The two of you long ago had found a way to kiss without his fangs harming you and you adored kissing this man. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you deepened the kiss as he lined himself up with your entrance.

As he slowly entered you, you gasped against his lips and his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned around his tongue and the two of you sloppily made out as he thrusted into you, stretching your pussy around his large cock. The stretch quickly turned from slight discomfort into pleasure as he lazily rocked his hips.

While you loved how fast and passionate your usual sex with him was, this slow, sleepy sex was just right for this rainy morning.

He reached his hand in between the two of you and rubbed his thumb against your clit. You broke away from the kiss to throw your head back and moan loudly. Katakuri moved his lips down to your neck to begin kissing and gently nipping there, still slightly hovering above your body so he didn’t crush you.

His attention all over you had you panting and clawing at his back.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You breathily moaned, already feeling your orgasm building. With your nails digging into his back and you trying to rock your hips to match his pace, Katakuri knew you were close.

“Come for me, baby.” He whispered against your neck. The soft command made you come undone and you arched your back, letting out a cry as your orgasm ripped through you. Your moans rang through your bedroom and Katakuri was not far behind you. With a few more thrusts, he groaned loudly and he filled you up with his cum.

The two of you laid there in silence for a moment, just trying to catch your breaths. You released your nails from his back and moved your hands to caress the back of his head and neck. He sighed softly against the skin of your neck and gave you another gentle kiss.

Yeah, the day could definitely wait.

#happy friday!#been kinda mia cause of family visiting these past few weeks but now i'm back!#also i do intend to write some katakuri smut with reader being normal human size one day but i'm still building myself up to it!!#my fanfics #katakuri smut #katakuri x reader #katakuri one piece #charlotte katakuri #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines

299 notes · View notes

saeclipse · 2 months ago

Text

nurse ᥫ᭡ a.ness

alexis ness gets injured from soccer. kaiser taking him home, he spends the day under your care

𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐍��𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 fill the room, the soccer player has yet to get comfortable on his couch. His right leg propped up after suffering a terrible injury. Kaiser just stands there, staring at his misery, bouncing his leg up and down impatiently.

“When are they gonna come?” The blue haired man asked, “Waiting all day isn’t exactly my specialty, Alexis.”

The shorter man quickly comes to your defense. Forgetting his injury, he abruptly gets up, but he then almost screams in pain with the stress on his knee. Keys then fiddle with the door outside, prompting Kaiser to dash to the location. You sprint pass the tall man to get to (your favorite) German. Kneeling in front of the couch, you examine his knee with concern.

“Are you okay? I heard a noise from outside.” You question your lover.

He grunts for a moment but responds with that sweet voice of his, “Of course, meine hübsche.” (my pretty)

You give a small chuckle as you stare at his leg more intently, using your experience as a nurse to tend to your boyfriend. You ask the normal questions; did you take your medicine, how’s the pain 1-10, etc. After caring for your partner, you notice a tall figure still standing in front of the door.

“This is disgusting, I’m leaving.” Is all Kaiser said before he makes his departure. You have no idea how your angel of a boyfriend ever even liked that demon. Not trying to toot your own horn here but… you like to say you take much better care of him than Kaiser ever will.

“You okay, beautiful?” Ness asked, it only melts your heart more. This guy could literally beat up a person and you would just stare with big red hearts as eyes, it was so cartoonish your love for him. What was even more silly was his love for you. He would turn the world upside down, left and right, and end it if you gave him the word. It truly came out of a fairytale – his everlasting love for you. Some called it like a dog and master, but it was much more. If it truly was dog and master, you would be the unconditional loving dog who worshiped Ness, you would do just as crazy a thing for him just as he would for you. It was a mutual insane obsession, some might call it unhealthy, you guys called it love.

You only smile at him and give a chaste kiss to his cute forehead, making sure to get straight in the middle. You travel over to your kitchen – one that you rarely used when Ness is over as he always suggested going on a date to a fancy restaurant, but now here you are making your best to imitate the cuisine from his favorite German restaurant. If Ness was gonna spend the next couple weeks on your couch, isolated from the world, he was gonna get the best food he got since his birth.

You sang delightfully in tune with the song, Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana del Rey played on the speaker. Cooking some meat, Ness layed there, staring at the most ethereal person attempt to cook him a five star meal (you would fail but he wouldn’t tell you). God he wish he could capture this moment on his camera so he could keep a physical copy, but he supposes a phone will do.

After eating a sweet treat for dessert (which ended up being ice cream because somehow you fucked up the original dessert). You hold Ness on your shoulder, traveling to your room so you have easier access to him in the middle of the night. Unsurprisingly being extremely heavy, it takes a while before you settle your boyfriend on the bed.

“Wait here, I have to get the kit.” You state before heading to the restroom. It only takes a few seconds but you come back with gauze and other materials to rebandage the injury. No words are said as you focus on his knee, with the silence saying everything that's needed. Ness once again oogles at your focused state, making him question if he should visit you at work more often. Phantom hearts fill his eyes, thoughts of you caring for him, this time with a ring on your finger flood his mind. He wonders if he should start getting injured more – but then you would have to worry more and he doesn’t want that. However, seeing you here, with the soft orange light from the lamp capturing your features beautifully. He feels like home here, maybe he will move in with you next month. After all, no house is a home without your presence to warm it.

Putting the kit back, you come back to bed with pajamas. You guys set your TV on a show, and although you don’t particularly find it entertaining, hearing Ness laugh next to you is a more than good enough reason to keep it running.

And when the lights go off, when it’s just you two in the dark in your bed – that's when most of the memories happen, the talks, the jokes, the moments of adoration of the other, where one could stare at the other’s resting figure and recollect the day. Where you two laugh at Ness’s new lockscreen of you cooking peacefully in the kitchen.

@lakeside-paradise @tofumiarchives @rini-rushed @shrii-kk

#✮ mia’s writing #alexis ness #alexis ness x reader #alexis ness x gn reader #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #bllk fic #bllk x reader #drabble

185 notes · View notes

harryforvogue · 6 months ago

Text

inspired by this request (thank you @ftdtkatie and welcome back queen). harry and mia post wedding reception. smut but it's not really detailed innit. 2.7k words. more harry and mia here

***

When Harry finally untangles himself from her, Mia steps into the hotel room, twirling the key around her finger. “Wow,” she murmurs, reaching for the light switch. “This is … wow.”

Harry’s back to nuzzling against her neck, arms around her again. “Only the best for you.”

Mia suppresses her shudder, tossing the keys onto the entrance table. She lets Harry turn her around and press her against the door, his mouth on hers before she can squint up at him.

“Wife,” he says again, softly, against her mouth. “My wife.”

Her fingers grip his shirt. The blazer is long gone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show his strong arms, tattoos, and watch. The soft overhead light above accentuates the shine of the ring on her finger. She wiggles her fingers and Harry laughs softly, covering her left hand with his own.

“Are you happy, Mia?” he whispers, using his other hand to pull her chin up. “Was everything perfect today?”

Mia leans her head back on the door and stares up at him. The glow of the candles to the right of him illuminates half of his handsome face. He’s smiling down at her, dimples on either side of his cheek, breathing softly. His lips are slightly swollen from all the kisses they’ve exchanged today.

“I have never been happier,” Mia says so quietly that it’s nearly inaudible. “And you?”

Harry ducks his head down and kisses her fully, holding her head against the door. “You’ve no idea, Mia,” he whispers. “I don’t think you’ll ever know.”

She breaks her hand out of his and loops her arms around his shoulder. Harry’s eyes shine when he pulls back from the kiss, cheeks a gentle pink. He leans down and picks her up from under her knees, cradling her against his torso. Mia laughs and holds onto him tighter. Harry walks them further into the room, giving her a tour of the place with careless motions. “That’s the dining. The bathrooms. The bar. The fridge.”

Then he stops at the bed, carefully toeing off his shoes and climbing into it on his knees. He swings her carefully and then lays her in the middle of the bed.

Mia stretches cat-like, back sinking into the mattress. “Oh, that’s so nice.”

Harry smiles, sitting down, leaning on his outstretched palm. His eyes twinkle with amusement, watching her stretch her arms out above her head. “Isn’t it? My back’s been hurting something fierce too.”

She shakes her ankles out, catching Harry’s attention. “Try walking around in these.”

“You’re right.” He catches one of her ankles and starts to undo the buckle. “Torture devices.”

“Now you’re understanding.”

Harry drops the shoe and works on the other one. He massages her heel gently, forcing a groan of relief out of Mia who stares up at the ceiling. When Harry’s hand starts trailing upwards and under her dress, she grins and raises her head, pushing up onto her ankles. “What are you doing?”

Harry bends down to kiss her calves and knees, warm hands holding her as if she’ll break. “Sit up, baby. Let’s get your hair down.”

Mia does so, with help from Harry tugging on her hands, and then he sits behind her with his own tie undone and shirt halfway unbuttoned. For the reception, she kept her hair braided and up, so it’s unsurprising that by the time Harry’s done unleashing her hair, there are at least 25 pins sitting in her lap. His nimble fingers run through her hair to get rid of any hairspray, the soft hidden strands from within her bun falling in loose waves around her face. Harry holds her chin as he kisses her again. “So pretty,” he murmurs, lips sliding down to her neck. “Wanna get out of the dress?”

“Mhmm.”

He undoes the zipper and pats her thigh to get her to stand. The dress falls to her feet. Harry leans back on his palms again, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. “You are so pretty, Mia.”

It’s stupid how Mia suddenly feels nervous. She’s not supposed to feel this way – she’s had sex with Harry likely a thousand times now. But there’s something about the way she stands before him in the – very meticulously picked out, thank you very much – bra and underwear set, his eyes drinking her in, though his smile really only widens when he sees the emotion in her eyes.

With his hand outstretched, he beckons her forward. As if a puppet on a string, she shuffles back to him, sitting in his lap.

He kisses her again and again, sighing and licking into her mouth with a surprising amount of gentleness that makes Mia’s throat close.

“Are you tired? Sleepy? Hungry?”

Mia kisses him back, gripping the back of his neck. “I’ve got other things on my mind.”

He hums, drawing back to look at her face. “I’ll order food now so it’s ready by the time we’re done.”

Her fingers walk down his collarbones, lips pursed. “Done with what?” she says innocently, because even though she’s nervous, that won’t stop her from being annoying. “What do you think we’re about to do, mister?””

Harry kisses her once more. “You know damn well what we’re going to do.” Then he leans over and grabs the phone, balancing her into his lap as he does. “What do you think you’ll be in the mood for?”

Mia rests her head on his shoulder, pressing her hips against his. He takes a shuddering breath that makes her smile. “A burger.”

“Fries?”

“Nah.”

“Anything else? Dessert?”

“No cake, please. I’ve had too much today.”

“Alright, baby.”

She listens to him dial and wait for the desk to answer. His voice rumbles under her ear. He finishes his list of late night dining food with “...and if you could, a bowl of strawberries for dessert. Thanks.”

Mia lifts her head to grin at him when he puts the phone down. “So romantic.”

“Should have made them chocolate covered,” Harry says with a frown.

She kisses him, throwing all her might into it, which effectively catches Harry off guard. Instead of catching her, he falls onto his back, his hair in his face as she swings a leg over his waist and straddles him. The undone tie comes off first, flying behind her, and Harry’s laughing as she works on the rest of his buttons.

“What do we have – T-minus twenty minutes?”

“Thirty, likely.”

“Enough time, I’d say.”

Harry reaches up and squishes her cheeks together. “Oh yeah?” he mimics. “What do you think we’re about to do, huh?”

Mia tries to bat his hands away but he only squishes harder. She crosses her arms over her barely dressed torso and says, “You’re being horny. I’m being practical. Don’t you know that a lack of consummation is grounds for annulment?”

Harry throws his head back and snorts. “There’s absolutely no way you just said consummation.”

“It’s a real thing.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve consummated our relationship to keep us afloat for a good decade.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you want an annulment?”

Harry bites on his inner cheek. “It’s a bit early for divorce jokes, no?”

“Annulment, not divorce.”

“Whatever.” He raises his head and smiles up at her. “Mia.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you shaking?” His hands come up around her, yanking her down with him so she lays flat on his chest. He rubs her arms, but the shivering doesn’t stop. “Baby.”

“Is it stupid that I’m actually, you know, nervous-excited?”

“Excited, I understand. Being nervous, though, is interesting.”

“You’re not nervous?”

“To..to have sex?” Harry asks, slightly bewildered. “Not really.”

Mia rolls her eyes. “I don’t think it’s the sex that's making me nervous. I don’t know what it is. Just all the excitement and all of today, maybe. I think I’m having a sugar crash. Yeah, that’s what this feels like. But I also don’t want the day to end because I’m having so much fun. It’s surreal, but I’m also in the moment. It’s weird. I don’t know.”

She knows she’s rambling a bit, but it’s hard to stop once she’s started and Harry’s looking at her with just a fond smile, she’s not sure if he’s actually listening or just admiring her face.

“I know it’s a lot to process,” Harry says once he’s done staring at her. “Honestly, my love, if you just wanna crash for the night, we can do that. Like I said, we’ve consummated enough times–”

“I’m really starting to dislike the way you say that word–”

“--so we can just get our clothes off and go to sleep.”

Mia frowns deeply. “No way I’m sleeping without banging you within an inch of your life, Harry.”

“Romantic.” He sits up and brings her along. “Mia.” He waits for her to look at him. “You’re in charge tonight. Whatever you want goes.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

A look of determination slots onto her face. “Alright.”

The kiss is gentle, but there’s an underlying urgency in it. The way she presses her hips to his again suggests she’s done with the chatter, and when his large hands grab her waist and pull on her, she softly sighs into his mouth.

Harry – to be plain – has been hard since the moment Mia looked at him at the reception half an hour ago and said it’s time to leave. He’d been waiting for her signal, and now they’re here, Mia sprawled on top of him, thighs around his waist, and her mouth hot on his. Her hands push off his shirt, tossing it aside just as Harry’s fingers twist off the clasp of her bra.

She shivers as the straps fall from her shoulders, and Harry leans in to pepper kisses to her chest. She holds him close, cradling his head, and throwing her own head back with a satisfied hum. His lips find the column of her throat next, the back of her ear, her temple, her nose. He twists them over so that he lays on top of her, and she gives in to his heady kisses.

His hands slide down her sides, fingers catching onto the band of her underwear, and he pulls away to look at her. It’s always been what he does, Mia thinks, as his eyes search for visible agreement. She nods at him, raising her hips to help him. His dimples return and the last of her garment is tossed away.

“Not fair,” Mia murmurs, dragging her nails down his abs. He tightens the muscles to prevent being tickless. “Take yours off too.”

Harry works on his belt while Mia watches with heavy eyes. Once his trousers are gone, he fits himself between her legs and sighs at the contact of their skin.

She loves the weight of him on top of her, just shy of crushing her lungs. His soft skin against hers, simply absorbing heat.

“Nothing else,” Mia says, getting comfortable under him. “We can do the other stuff later. Just want you inside of me right now.”

Harry smiles. “You know me too well.”

“I can tell by that evil look that you’re about to use your mouth, but I mean it,” Mia giggles, and he kisses her neck as his hands slowly part her legs. His fingers slide through, gently pressing one finger at her entrance. He pushes in and listens to her whimper before adding another. And when she whimpers again, he kisses her so he can swallow the noises and savor them.

“Harry, ah please just – yeah. Just… yes. Yes.”

He lines himself up and carefully begins to enter her. It’s always this way, no matter if they’ve previously decided to be rough. He watches her face contort with pleasure, her mangled whine blending in with his deep groan. The feel of her walls invites him, warm and comforting.

“I love you,” Harry murmurs against her mouth, arms braced beside her head. Her eyes flicker up at him, a beginning of a flush blossoming on her face. “You are everything. Do you understand? Everything.”

His thrusts are shallow at first, but once he hears her throaty moan, he pulls her closer to him and presses deeper. She makes the prettiest sounds as he quickens his pace, eyes never leaving hers.

“Wife,” he marvels, causing Mia to whine and throw her arms around him. Her sharp nails dig into his shoulders. “I love you. I love you.”

All of Mia’s nervousness, or whatever you would call it, melts away. Instead, she looks up at her husband in awe. Only the two of them know how far they’ve come. Nobody else but Mia sees the way Harry’s eyes take her in, how his heart beats to the syllables of her name, how his hands cup her face as if she’s the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

And in his most vulnerable moment too. Nobody sees Harry the way he is now, spread out and bare in front of her, broken down to the point where she can see every molecule of him. His fears, his fierce way of loving, his stubbornness, his protectiveness.

It’s all hers.

She holds him closer, emotion in her throat causing her to moan lowly, nails still pressing into his skin.

It doesn’t take long for either of them to announce their impending orgasm, but Harry goes first, and then, with the help of his thumb against her clit, she follows, hot pleasure running down her spine like electricity. He’s holding her in his arms when she’s coming down from that high, mumbles soft words against her hair.

“I love you,” Mia whispers, and that doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Harry’s lips twist into a smile and he runs his palms over her eyes. “I love you.”

“I’m crying?”

“A little, my love.”

His own eyes are looking misty again.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I’d be crying right now.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.” He starts sliding down her body, and she only realizes what he’s doing when his head is between her legs and his tongue is darting out to give her a gentle lick.

Mia hisses, yanking on his hair. “Give me a bloody minute, would you?”

He rests his head on her thigh and waits exactly one minute before he returns to his spot and licks into her.

Despite the lack of rest, Mia’s riding out another orgasm on his tongue within minutes, the tears in her eyes now from oversensitivity. She’s pushing him away frantically, trembling when he emerges while wiping the corners of his mouth, grinning. His hair is a mess, curtains around his brows, and his eyes filled with delight.

He’s so fucking handsome.

“You just can’t help yourself,” Mia says, barely able to manage a whisper.

“You taste so good, I really can’t.”

Before he returns to lay next to her, he finds his white shirt and helps her into it. She’s shivering again, still from excitement it seems, and when he finds his place beside her, she immediately snuggles into him. Mia takes exaggerated inhales to breathe in his scent, and Harry simply cards his clean fingers through her hair.

It’s nearing two in the morning now, but unlike before, Mia’s wide awake. Harry’s eyes are closed, she sees when she glances at him, but he doesn't seem to be asleep. She presses even closer to him, throwing the blanket over his lower half to keep him from getting cold.

When the food arrives, it’s Mia that wraps her robe around herself and takes it in while Harry yawns and struggles to sit up. They go for the strawberries first, both of them sitting in white robes on the edge of the bed, shoulders brushing against one another. He pours her some champagne and blinks at her when she tells him she’s barely had a sip of water today.

And when Harry wipes the strawberry residue from Mia’s mouth and drags her in for a deep kiss, Mia’s heart just about explodes with happiness. Harry smiles into the kiss and holds her tighter.

She leans into his strong frame, breathing him in again.

Everything is good.

#harry and mia #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff

344 notes · View notes

exaltedfuzz · 5 months ago

Text

Wrote something...

Bonus sketch:

#art #my art #ace attorney #exaltedfuzz #artists on tumblr #digital art #lana skye #artist #ace attorney fanart #mia fey #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #lanamia

201 notes · View notes

threewaywithdelusion · 2 years ago

Text

You Me Her

Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here

Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington.

By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him.

Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched.

But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin.

And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet.

Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her.

Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock.

Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down.

Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry.

Robin blushed.

Tammy turned back around.

Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence.

Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt.

Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”

Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak.

Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth.

“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”

“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”

“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”

“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”

She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew.

Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense.

“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”

***

But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school.

“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night.

They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars.

“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar.

Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”

“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked.

Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”

“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely.

“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched.

One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”

The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement.

“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin.

Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington.

But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him.

“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”

Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”

Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”

Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa.

“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked.

Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool.

“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked.

Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”

Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”

“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out.

But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while.

Robin sighed, loud and long.

“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”

Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy.

Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”

“I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”

“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised.

Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting.

Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real.

Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space.

“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”

“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?

“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”

***

Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend.

“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye.

“Hi?” Robin answered.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”

Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?

“What?” Robin asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley.

“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?

But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?

Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”

Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow.

“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”

He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him.

“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”

Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”

“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”

“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Carol asked.

“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said.

Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question.

Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”

Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted.

Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?

“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step.

Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock.

That was fair. Robin was shocked too.

Was Steve defending her?

Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.

“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”

“Robin is great,” Steve insisted.

Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”

With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.

Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat.

“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic.

Robin hated him.

“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve.

She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed.

***

Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again.

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”

“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy.

Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”

“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?

Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.

“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?” Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again.

Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think.

“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”

So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell.

And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with.

Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her.

Steve Harrington was ruining everything.

***

“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything.

Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”

A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway.

“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.

“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”

Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”

“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”

“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny.

“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”

Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?

“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her.

“It’s not about me,” Robin said.

“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”

The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar.

“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to.

He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut.

She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it.

***

The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy.

Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut.

Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke.

Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this.

After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again.

She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other.

At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast.

Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile.

“Robin! Did you see that!”

Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness.

“I did,” she said.

“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist.

“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”

***

The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down.

It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?

***

A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool.

“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”

Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her.

“You’re going?” Robin asked dully.

“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”

***

Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there.

By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard.

Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention.

Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room.

Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers.

That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.

Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”

“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile.

“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment.

“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”

“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson.

The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers.

“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”

She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda.

“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.

Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers.

Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side.

Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare.

“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tommy said.

Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”

Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”

Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward.

From there, they kept going around the circle.

Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”

Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink.

“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”

Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be.

Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet.

Then it was Tammy’s turn.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes.

A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”

Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s.

Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly.

“Okay,” Tammy said.

Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her.

It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand.

Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face.

“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”

Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing.

She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her.

“Truth,” Robin said.

Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”

Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with.

But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”

“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.

Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”

It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker.

Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side.

Robin felt like she was going to throw up.

Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”

The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her.

Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side.

Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”

Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?

She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again.

Robin didn’t really believe it.

She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in.

“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever.

Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”

Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her.

Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce.

She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian.

Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her.

“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”

Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her.

Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her.

He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”

Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl.

Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester.

Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up.

She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it.

Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips.

Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing.

But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other.

Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss.

Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.

And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?

Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.

Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this.

She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss.

He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.

After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth.

He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression.

He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference.

Someone wolf-whistled.

Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.

Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him.

“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”

“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said.

Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for.

Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe.

As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss.

This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy.

“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock.

She kind of wanted to know more about him.

She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand.

In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them.

Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain.

“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had.

“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side.

Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?

Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.

Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss.

“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said.

Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle.

Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real.

She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.

“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”

***

On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school.

His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes.

Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”

Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”

“I like them better this way,” Steve said.

Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”

“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before.

She was dying to know why he’d done it.

“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased.

“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”

“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird.

But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”

“Yo, Harrington,” called a basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”

“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough.

The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”

Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said.

“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”

“You’re not going to basketball?”

“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”

“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.

Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”

“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”

“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”

Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”

DM? Was that some Hellfire term?

Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.

“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”

“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said.

Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”

Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”

He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend.

Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ao3 #because ao3 is down #robin buckley #Steve harrington #carol perkins #stobin #platonic stobin #time travel fanfiction #mia writes fanfic

1K notes · View notes

miaqc1 · 3 months ago

Text

They already knows [Rebuild of Evangelion, Ayanami Rei/Shikinami Asuka Langley]

Read on Ao3

Read on Squidgeworld

Read here on tumblr:

I'm Asuka. I've been Rei's partner for years. I'm madly in love with her but I haven't told her I'm non-binary. I'm afraid it would put an end to our relationship. Yet I can't hide it from her forever. So, over a meal, I plan to tell her my gender identity but Rei interrupts me.

“I already know, dear Asuka. I am also non-binary.”

“HOW?”

I couldn't help but raise my voice. I've been worried about losing sie all this time and hir is non-binary! Then I started laughing.

“Is everything all right?” My lover asks.

“Yes, yes, everything's ok. It's just... ironic, don't you think so?”

Rei laughs as well. The rest of the meal is spent in good spirits.

2 notes · View notes

im-yn-suckers · 5 months ago

Text

࿐‧₊◜·°˖˚♡ idol bf niki x gf reader ‧₊·°˖˚ warnings; skinship, biting, erm being tired and js cutesy yn and niki ‧₊·°˖˚genre; fluff and ig comfort idk ‧₊·°˖˚ mia says; im getting more inspo. let me cook ‧₊·°˖˚

niki arrived a little later, non unusual, because he has dance today or had. once he arrived he greeted you quickly and excused himself to shower.

while he was in there you fixed some tea. you notice he takes a little longer than usual in the shower-something he does when hes sore-and immediately you know hes sore.

once he comes out in sweats and a shirt you lead him to sit on the floor on front of the couch. you sit on the couch behind him and massage the nape of his neck

he sighs in relief and melts under your touch you giggle when he sighs bc who wouldnt. 'whatre you giggling about'

'nothing' 'you sure?' 'mhmm' of course, he doesnt believe you but shrugs it off, used to your silliness

you massage his shoulder down to his bicep, leaning forward and chomping on it. 'what was that for?' 'uhm scientific research' 'oh really? what science' 'uhh-natomy' 'anatomy?' 'anatomy!' 'ok and why is this necessary?' 'good question' he laughs and turns his attention to the tv in front of you guys, sipping the tea you previously made.

once you finish he joins you on the sofa, holding you close and stroking your hair. he presses a light kiss to the crown of your head 'feeling better baby?' 'definitely' you giggle and smile back at him, playing with his free hand.

you fall asleep on the couch together and theres two cups of unfinished tea on the coffee table

792 notes · View notes

gothamite-rambler · 24 days ago

Text

Speedy (Mia Dearden) one of Green Arrow's sidekicks not so stealthy walked over to Jason Todd. She smiled, looking the man up and down then gripped his hand tightly.

Mia: You're my friend now, we're having fish tacos together!

Jason: What? What? I want fish tacos, but what's happening?

Mia: I'm taking your friend boy, Roy! We'll return later!

Mia kept walking with a confused Jason who reluctantly went off with her while Roy watched unsure of how to react for a few seconds, but quickly ran after them while Lian ate her ice cream sundae.

Roy: Hey! Hey, he's my friend!

Lian: I'll eat the rest of the ice cream, dad!

107 notes · View notes

phantomstatistician · 11 days ago

Text

Fandom: Ace Attorney

Character: Godot

Sample Size: 698 stories

Source: AO3

#godot #mia fey #phoenix wright #luke atmey #maya fey #kristoph gavin #ron delite #miles edgeworth #simon blackquill #dahlia hawthorne #ace attorney #fanfiction #ao3 #statistics #phantom statistician

63 notes · View notes

donttxtathebeach · 12 days ago

Text

HOLLYWOOD

Drew Starkey x Actress!reader

smau & Real Life

This series is a mix of angst, fluff, and feels, with a healthy dose of swoon-worthy moments that will have you rooting for Y/N and Drew

Disclaimer: For how I wrote it, Jonathan Nolan is divorced; it will make sense. I promise I have a vision.

BEHIND THE SCENES:

Y/N Nolan, 25-year-old actress and daughter of Jonathan NolanBritish-American screenwriter and film producer; she spent the last seven years dominating the horror genre, earning her the title of Hollywood’s “queen of horror.” But for the first time in her career, she steps outside her comfort zone to take on the role of Ani in Anora, a raw, emotionally charged drama that forces her to confront parts of herself she’s long buried. The role is transformative—but also terrifying. Drew Starkey, the 31-year-old actor whose kindness and calm demeanor started to shift Y/N’s world after their viral Actors on Actors interview. Their easy banter sparks rumors online, but their connection runs far deeper behind the scenes. Drew becomes Y/N’s rock as she navigates the intense emotional toll of her new role and the pressure of being Hollywood’s “it girl.” Follow their journey as Drew helps Y/N process the weight of her career and the vulnerabilities that come with it, even though she grew up in this industry. Whether it’s late-night talks at his apartment, quiet moments of comfort after emotional breakdowns, or the steady way he supports her without ever pushing her boundaries, Drew becomes the safe space Y/N didn’t know she needed. From friends to lovers. The media is obsessed with their every move, and fans are shipping them left and right, but Y/N and Drew are just taking things slow—learning how to lean on each other in a world that’s constantly watching. From private movie screenings to heartfelt confessions, Hollywood explores the beauty of falling in love when life feels overwhelming and finding someone who reminds you of who you are underneath it all.

MEET & GREET

Y/N NOLAN

( FC for smau's Mikey Madison & occasional Mia Goth)

Y/N grew up in the picturesque town of Nantucket, a world away from Hollywood’s glitz yet tethered to it through her father, the visionary director of Interstellar. Her childhood was shaped by both beauty and heartbreak; at the tender age of five, her mother left, leaving her father to raise her alone. A devoted parent, he stepped back from directing to focus on being there for her, driving her to ballet classes and movie sets, ensuring she felt supported in every aspect of her young life. The industry was always a part of Y/N’s world. By the time she turned 13, her father resumed his directing career, and she was old enough to understand the passion and dedication that filmmaking required. It wasn’t long before she began forging her own path in the industry, debuting with her first role in the haunting A24 horror film The Blackcoat’s Daughter (2017). Her chilling performance captured attention, but it was her work in X and its prequel, Pearl, that earned her the title of “queen of horror.” Her ability to balance vulnerability, terror, and raw humanity in each role made her a standout talent in the genre. The momentum didn’t stop there. Y/N starred in Infinity Pool, a surreal and provocative exploration of morality and identity, followed by the highly anticipated Maxxxine, the final chapter in Ti West’s celebrated trilogy. Each film reinforced her reputation as a fearless actress who thrived in the dark, twisted corners of storytelling. Though she’s now recognized as Hollywood’s “it girl,” Y/N has stayed true to her roots, continuing to reside in Nantucket. The serene coastal town provides her a haven away from the chaos of her rising stardom. Her lifelong best friend, Elle Fanning, has been by her side through it all. The two met as children on the set of a movie her father was directing—Elle was five, Y/N was four—and have been inseparable ever since. Their friendship has been a constant source of strength and joy, with Elle always cheering Y/N on as she conquers new challenges in her career. Now 25, Y/N is taking on her most emotionally demanding role yet in Anora, stepping out of the horror genre to prove her versatility as an actress. As she navigates her meteoric rise, she’s also building a budding romance with actor Drew Starkey, whose quiet, grounding presence has become an unexpected anchor in her life. Through it all, Y/N remains a beacon of humility and resilience, embracing every challenge and triumph with the grace of someone who knows where they come from—and where they’re headed.

DREW STARKEY

Drew Starkey, a Southern charmer from North Carolina, grew up far removed from the Hollywood spotlight. Raised in a close-knit family, Drew’s upbringing was humble and grounded, with strong values instilled by his parents. Though he initially pursued a more traditional path, attending college with the idea of pursuing business or law, his love for storytelling eventually won out, and he began acting in local theater productions. Drew’s big break came in 2018 when he landed the role of Rafe Cameron in Netflix’s Outer Banks. His portrayal of the deeply flawed, troubled character earned him critical acclaim and put him on the map as a versatile actor who could bring layers of complexity to even the most unlikable characters. With his piercing blue eyes and natural charisma, Drew quickly became a fan favorite and a rising star in the industry. Drew has consistently sought out roles that challenge him as an actor. From independent films to supporting roles in major projects, he has steadily built a career defined by thoughtful choices and quiet intensity. Despite his success, Drew has managed to stay grounded, attributing his level-headedness to the support of his family and his love for the outdoors, which he often retreats to whenever he needs a break from Hollywood. At 31, Drew is entering a new chapter in his career and personal life. His professional chemistry with Y/N began during their Actors on Actors interview for Variety, where the pair immediately connected over their shared passion for storytelling and mutual respect for each other’s work. What started as lighthearted banter soon turned into something deeper. Drew’s admiration for Y/N goes far beyond her professional accolades. He’s drawn to her down-to-earth nature and the way she values her roots, a quality that resonates with his own upbringing. While their relationship is still in its early stages, Drew’s actions speak volumes—whether it’s rearranging his schedule to support her at events or organizing thoughtful gestures to celebrate her achievements, his affection for her is clear. As Drew continues to evolve as an actor and a person, his partnership with Y/N feels like a natural extension of his journey. For Drew, being with Y/N isn’t just about finding love—it’s about finding someone who sees him for who he truly is.

ELLE FANNING

Background on Elle Fanning for Hollywood

Elle Fanning, a true Hollywood prodigy, was practically born into the industry. As the younger sister of Dakota Fanning, she began acting at the tender age of two, often playing younger versions of her sister’s characters. But Elle quickly proved herself as a star in her own right, earning critical acclaim for her breakout performance in Somewhere (2010), directed by Sofia Coppola. From there, she cemented her place as one of Hollywood’s most talented and versatile actresses, seamlessly transitioning from child star to leading lady. While her career blossomed, Elle also cultivated a deep and enduring friendship with Y/N. The two met as children on the set of a movie directed by Y/N’s father when Elle was five and Y/N was four. Despite their young age, their connection was immediate and unwavering. Growing up together in the often isolating world of Hollywood, they became each other’s anchor, navigating the pressures of fame, auditions, and red carpets side by side. Now in her late 20s, Elle has developed a reputation as one of the industry’s most beloved stars, known for her grace, warmth, and transformative performances in films like The Great, The Neon Demon, and Maleficent. Despite her successes, she has always prioritized her friendship with Y/N, often describing her as her “chosen sister.” Elle’s role in Hollywood reflects her steadfast support for Y/N during a pivotal time in her career. Whether it’s cheering her on at premieres, hyping her up on social media, or simply being a comforting presence during moments of doubt, Elle is the epitome of a loyal best friend. Their bond goes far beyond the glitz and glamour of the industry. From spontaneous trips to Nantucket, where Y/N still reside, to quiet nights reminiscing about their childhood adventures, Elle and Y/N share a connection that is both rare and enduring. For Elle, supporting Y/N isn’t just about friendship—it’s about celebrating the person who has been by her side through every triumph and trial, proving that true sisterhood knows no bounds.

ABBIE’S CORNER

welcome to Hollywood, I honestly have had this storyline written in my notes since Anora came out, so I'm excited for it! was having such a big writers block for my Rafe story, because although I love Rafe, I love writing for Drew a lot more!

73 notes · View notes

rainflower-writes · 7 days ago

Text

—HYUNG! [PT.1]

────────────

"Hyung" is a Korean term used by males to refer to an older male, typically an older brother or close male friend. It expresses respect, affection, and a sense of closeness.

────────────

Kim Dokja stood at the entrance of the school, a deep frown creasing his forehead as he observed the other kids his age laughing and chatting merrily as they hurried inside.

The sound of their cheerful voices echoed around him, making his heart sink even further. He felt a mix of frustration and apprehension surge within him, and his small hands tightened around his older brother's arm, gripping it as if it were a lifeline.

His older brother, a comforting presence, didn’t seem to notice the tension radiating from him; he was too busy glancing at his watch, eager for the day to begin.

Dokja's backpack, worn and slightly frayed at the edges, hung heavily from his shoulder, a constant reminder of the burden he felt about attending school.

The weight of both the bag and his worries pressed down on him, making him feel even smaller among the throng of confident, carefree children.

He shifted his feet nervously, dreading the thought of the long day ahead and the interactions that awaited him inside those walls.

"Dokja, Hyung need to go now," [Name] said softly, kneeling down in front of the younger boy.

A gentle smile curved on his lips, trying to convey comfort in an overwhelming moment.

"I wanna go home," Dokja replied, his small hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of [Name]'s shirt, his expressive eyes wide with uncertainty.

“Dokja…” [Name] sighed, a note of concern creeping into his voice as he noticed the stubbornness in the younger boy’s posture. It was clear he didn’t want to let go.

Today marked Dokja's first day as an Elementary student, a milestone that should have been joyful.

However, reality had hit him hard, and he found himself feeling lost and anxious.

Meanwhile, [Name] was already navigating the challenges of Middle School, stepping into a new phase of life that felt worlds apart from Dokja’s.

The stark contrast was daunting for the little boy, leaving him clinging to the comfort of the familiar.

"How about this," [Name] suggested gently, kneeling down to meet Dokja’s gaze, "when school ends, Hyung will be right here waiting for you, okay?" His voice was soft, laced with warmth, hoping to coax a smile from the boy.

Dokja pouted, his small hands clutching the fabric of [Name]'s uniform with a hesitant grip, as if letting go would mean losing something precious.

There was a flicker of reluctance in his wide eyes, mirroring the battle within him.

"Hyung will read you three bedtime stories," [Name] continued, raising a playful brow and offering a reassuring smile as he extended his pinky finger, the universal sign of a promise. The promise seemed to hang in the air, a lifeline connecting them despite the distance that would soon separate them.

Dokja’s pout deepened, and he sighed dramatically, but eventually, he relented, linking his pinky with [Name]'s.

Their thumbs pressed together, a bond firm for now.

"Three bedtime stories!" he repeated, a hint of determination in his voice as he tried to mask the bubbling excitement underneath his grumpiness.

"I promise," [Name] chuckled softly, a fond smile spreading across his face as he lovingly adjusted Dokja's uniform, smoothing out the wrinkles.

The simple act made them both feel closer, even though the inevitable goodbye loomed.

With one last lingering look, Dokja turned toward the school entrance, his face scrunching up in a mix of determination and melancholy as he watched the distance grow between him and his Hyung.

The world around him felt larger and somehow emptier, but the promise of three enchanting bedtime stories filled him with a flicker of hope as he stepped inside.

School can't be that bad isn't it?

────────────

The bicycle came to a swift halt, tires skidding slightly on the pavement as he patiently awaited the swarm of children emerging from the school grounds.

The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, but his attention was suddenly grabbed by a familiar figure darting toward him from his peripheral vision.

A smile crept onto his face as he turned to see his little brother, Dokja, sprinting up with wild, unkempt hair and cheeks flushed with what appeared to be a mix of exertion and distress.

He couldn’t help but suppress a chuckle at the sight of Dokja’s disheveled appearance and the unmistakable frown etched on his face.

“Hyung! I don’t wanna go to school anymore!” Dokja declared dramatically as he leaped onto the back of [Name]'s bicycle, his voice a blend of frustration and defeat.

He slumped against his brother, launching into a grumble about his horrible day, the words spilling out in a rush as he vented all the little injustices that had piled up throughout his day.

"And they actually have tomatoes for lunch! Who in their right mind eats tomatoes for lunch?!" Dokja exclaimed, [Name] shook his head, a mix of disbelief and amusement evident as he shook his head at Dokja.

They had just rounded the corner and were approaching the familiar sight of their home, the sun casting a warm glow over the quaint building.

With a playful grin, [Name] added, "Well, I eat tomatoes for lunch!"

His declaration was met with an exaggerated shudder from Dokja, who scrunched up his face in mock horror, clearly finding the idea repulsive.

The lighthearted banter between them softened the afternoon, making their routine stroll home feel all the more enjoyable.

They burst into laughter as they hopped off the bicycle, the warm afternoon sun casting playful shadows on the ground.

[Name] effortlessly pushed the bike to the side of the house, leaning it against the weathered wood where it could rest safely.

With joyful energy, they made their way to the front door, both of them exchanging playful nudges and bumps, their laughter ringing through the air.

In a moment that almost sent Dokja tumbling, he teetered dangerously close to his mother’s carefully tended flower pot, vibrant blossoms swaying precariously.

Just in the nick of time, [Name] reached out and caught him, steadying his balance and preventing a floral disaster, their giggles filling the space around them.

Their lighthearted bickering was cut short by the sudden sound of a loud crash, the noise reverberating through the stillness of the quiet neighborhood.

[Name]’s heart dropped as a sharp cry of pain, unmistakably his mother’s, tore through the air.

Without hesitation, he pushed Dokja behind him, his movements deliberate and protective.

Slowly, he cracked the door open, his breath shallow, peering into the dim room with cautious eyes.

Behind him, Dokja clung to his waist like a lifeline.

His small hands, balled into trembling fists, twisted the fabric of [Name]’s uniform, leaving crumpled creases in its wake.

His fear was palpable, his grip tight, his knuckles pale.

“Hyung...” Dokja’s voice quivered with barely contained terror, his wide, watery eyes fixed on [Name]’s tense expression.

[Name] turned and offered a weak, reassuring smile, though it faltered under the weight of the situation.

He reached down to ruffle Dokja’s hair, a silent promise that everything would be fine—even if he wasn’t sure it would be.

The room beyond was a chaotic mess. Empty bottles of alcohol were scattered haphazardly on the floor, their contents pooling in sticky puddles on the worn carpet.

The acrid stench of spilled liquor mixed with the stale air, assaulting their senses and making both brothers wrinkle their noses in unison.

Another shout echoed from the kitchen, this one louder and angrier. The sound made them both flinch, but [Name] recovered quickly, his protective instincts taking over.

He crouched down to Dokja’s level, his hands firm but gentle on the boy’s shoulders.

“Stay here,” he whispered, his tone low and commanding. His gaze was sharp yet full of warmth as he guided Dokja toward the nearest room.

Dokja hesitated, his lips pursed and his brows knitted with worry, but he obeyed.

He shuffled into the small room, casting one last glance at [Name]. The door clicked shut, leaving him alone with his growing fear.

He pressed his ear to the door, his small frame trembling as he tried to make sense of the muffled chaos outside.

The sound of shattering glass made him jump, his breath hitching as [Name]’s voice rang out—louder and sharper than Dokja had ever heard before.

[Name] never shouted.

He was always the calm one, the gentle one.

Hearing his raised voice now, tinged with both fury and desperation, filled Dokja with a cold, creeping terror.

Time dragged on, each second heavy and suffocating.

Dokja slid down the wall, curling into himself as he waited. The silence that eventually followed was almost worse than the noise.

The doorknob rattled, and the door creaked open. Dokja’s head snapped up, his heart pounding.

“Dokja...” [Name]’s voice was soft but strained, like a thread stretched too thin.

He stepped into the room, his figure silhouetted against the dim light from the hallway.

His face was a patchwork of cuts and bruises, the fresh wounds stark against his pale skin.

Purple and blue bruises were already forming, blooming like grotesque flowers along his jaw and cheekbone.

His uniform was wrinkled and slightly disheveled, the fabric damp in places from sweat or something more unsettling.

A faint smear of blood marred his collar, though he seemed unfazed by it.

“Are you hungry?” he asked quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Yet even in his battered state, there was a gentleness in his tone, an unwavering warmth meant to shield Dokja from the harsh reality clawing at the edges of their lives.

Dokja didn’t answer right away. His lips quivered as his wide eyes filled with tears. He could see it—the exhaustion weighing on [Name], the pain he carried not just in his body but in his heart.

Yet [Name] stood there, steady and unyielding, as if determined to bear the weight of the world alone.

He nodded silently, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

[Name] knelt down, pulling him into a firm yet tender embrace.

The scent of blood and sweat lingered on him, but Dokja didn’t pull away. He buried his face in [Name]’s chest, clutching at his rumpled uniform as though it were his anchor.

[Name] closed his eyes, resting his chin atop Dokja’s head. He knew Dokja understood more than he let on.

The boy wasn’t oblivious to the harsh reality of their home.

But [Name] had vowed long ago to protect him from the worst of it, to shield him from the darkness that loomed over their family.

To Kim [Name], Kim Dokja was everything—his light, his hope, his reason to endure.

And no matter how cruel the world became, no matter how much it tried to break them, [Name] would never allow it to touch his precious little brother.

────────────

56 notes · View notes