#t: grey's anatomy

[amartianonmars]

obligatory Amok time comic that I was gonna post for day 19 of Spocktober

[best-character-named-x-poll]

have you done your daily click

[horsetailcurlers2]

addison montgomery fanfiction recs by pairing

(although i am *relatively* new to the greys fandom, once i finished season three i immediately obsessively scoured the internet for any addison montgomery centric fanfiction i could get my hands on. here are just a few of my favorite ones for each of my addison ships (of which there are many). this is by no means an exhaustive list. my qualifications for this are that i’m cool and have good taste and spend way too much time thinking about fictional people)

ADDEK:

-“The Climbing Way” by winter machine (this is actually probably one of my favorite fanfictions of all time, period. this author is just absolutely brilliant at capturing their dynamic and all of its complexities. the entire thing is actually from derek’s POV which i was surprised how much i enjoyed considering i can sometimes be a derek hater lol but it provides some really good insight into his character without being as forgiving as canon or as bash-y as some fics (if that makes any sort of sense?). it also combines two of my favorite addek tropes: “sad baby backstory” and “traumatic event forces them to actually confront their issues”. it is also a very captivating portrait of derek and mark’s realtionship and has lots and lots of flashbacks. big angst warning especially for the early chapters.)

-“Some Bright Morning” by winter machine (i just can’t get enough of this author. i love any addek fic that heavily features savvy and weiss bc i think they should have made more appearances in canon. or savvy should’ve at least lmao. weiss was kind of a dick. but i like him in this fic! this is a very very interesting AU because it takes place largely outiside of canon settings and features a lot of OCs. it also takes place around early season one so the mark wound is still very fresh. its set entirely on a small island in georgia during savvy’s mother’s funeral so there’s plenty of forced proximity and bed sharing. the original setting and cast of characters are really fleshed out and completely captivating. like, i would read a whole separate story just about this island and its inhabitants. also features lots of background on savvy and addison’s friendship. and plenty of angst of course. you may be sending a pattern with these recommendations)

-“do you think i have forgotten (about you)” by crime_wives (this one legitimately made me sob. like, my body produced actual tears. angsty one shot. not happy-addek. a perfect snapshot of their tragic ending)

- “Unhinged (AddisonandDerekandMark)” by RulerOfAllThatIsEvilChiFlowers (very dark. very twisty. somewhat non linear.)

- “This Hurt Can Teach Us Both” by darlingwrecks (oh my lord this one is so so addek- bittersweet, sexy, nostalgic, painful and delightful all at once. my favorite thing about this writer is the way they write backstory, especially for the Med School Trio. this is also kind of fun because we never got to see how these two dealt with their post divorce logistics. derek was just kind of like “take all the property and fuck off” which is not at all how these things work lol)

MEDDISON:

- “lately she’s undressing for revenge” by emilyprentits (only read this if you want to be driven to tear your own hair out by the emotions this will make you feel. this is one of the fics that fully convinced me to ship meddison. so so so good and it’s like it was written from inside of meredith’s actual brain)

-“i’ll show you every version of yourself tonight” by withpeopleinperson (two words: stripper addison. read it. be forewarned it’s only one chapter and has not been updated in a few years but it’s a GREAT chapter regardless)

-“the seven stages of intoxication” by theprincessdiarist (meredith grey doling out meredith grey levels of emotional dysfunction. featuring loads and loads of delightfully frustrating mutual pining)

-“Sex and Caring in Seattle” by Bluefall (meredith once again having totally normal and regular feeling about her ex boyfriend’s wife. i love this one because they are both just kind of bisexual disasters and derek is just Also There. i love the way this author perfectly captures meredith’s perpetual inability to navigate her own emotions)

*EDIT: i also realized i forgot to add that these last two were recommended to me by @crime-wives !!!

-“open the floodgates up” by SugarsweetRomantic (this has EVERYTHING you could want in a meddison fic: mutual hurt/comfort, bed sharing, friends to lovers, these two being absolute dumbasses about each other. had me crying and also kicking my feet. genuinely)

MADDISON:

-“Make This Go On Forever” by darlingwrecks (i am so in love with this universe. i usually don’t gravitate toward kid/family centric fics but this one is so so much more than that. it’s maddison, if those two had made a real go of things, stayed in new york, and kept the pregnancy. there’s even some background merder eventually (which is not usually my jam but i like in this context). very very fluffy at times, a bit angsty at others, super in character but iirc i think this was written pretty early on in the show so addison and mark’s backgrounds may be a smidge different than in canon. this is the link to the rewritten version (i think?) on ao3. the author had the original up on live journal back in the day and i could have SWORN i read a sequel that i found a link to in the depths of their LJ but i cannot find it anywhere rn)

-“When I Grow Up” by winter machine (another maddison-if-they’d-stayed-in-new-york-and-addison-kept-the-pregnancy, but with a twist that brings them to seattle to see derek, who they haven’t spoken to in seven years. a fantastic plot but also sort of just a brilliant exploration of how mark and addison would be as parents given their own childhoods and how they have pretty much been cut off from the one healthy(ish) family dynamic that either of them have experienced. there’s also background merder in this one and it actually kind of made me like merder which is a major feat)

-“Celery” by winter machine (a fun little one shot featuring Derek Being An Idiot, Drunk Addison, and Mark Crossing Boundaries. a little bit sad and a little bit funny. again, everything by this author is just great)

JADDISON:

- “A Certain Slant of Light” by darlingwrecks (this is for those of us that were weirded out by addison’s convo with amelia in season 18. a more fleshed out exploration of addison’s mental health during the pandemic. it’s a very raw and honest portrayal of depression and anxiety and how someone like addison would navigate it while being a doctor in a global pandemic and raising an 8 year old. it’s not nearly as bleak as it sounds though. lots of fluff, a little smut. also touches on how addison might’ve grieved mark and derek. and archer makes some appearances which i loved (i know he’s an asshole but i really like addison’s brother lol))

-“Diamonds in the Sky” by Ziaaaaa_sdc (there’s so few jaddison fics out there, probably because of how compressed their relationship timeline was as they tried to wrap up the show, but this writer has several and they’re all so good. there definitely aren’t enough fun AUs for them so i was really excited when i first found this. its Ballet School Jaddison and there’s actually only three chapters atm. no idea if it will be updated ever again but it’s still more than worth a read. a smidge angsty so far. also seems to be setting up a little enemies to lovers arc)

CADDISON:

-“Help Me (With The Butterflies)” by BlackRoseMatron (a very sweet one shot. this author is single-handedly keeping the caddison shippers fed and i love it. they also have some really great meddison stuff)

[sunflowerrex]

I’m rewatching greys anatomy (for literally the 800th time) and I can’t get over this cute idea in my head of Eli being an intern and Thrawn being an attending so here’s this SUPER sloppy quick doodle of intern Eli bc I needed to get some of it out of my system

So like Eli isn’t top of his class but he tries SO hard and everyone likes him but he’s not super close w anyone, except like 2 other interns who are assigned to the same resident as him (obvi bad bitch resident Karyn)

And Thrawn is SUPER closed off and no one wants to get close w him bc he scares them

And all the other interns are bat shit TERRIFIED of thrawn but he sees something in Eli and goes out of his way to get Eli on his cases and if you know greys anatomy it’s very Burke and Cristina

If I felt more confident in my writing I would 100% make a fic of this but in the future I’m most def gonna make lil drabbles n stuff bc this makes my heart so happy

[gossipwitchcinematicuniverse]

Selene: Antonio's still in his dark place and he's still not talking. So I turned off my cell in case he wanted to say something, which he didn't. I hate men. They're stupid. Svea: Arthur asked me to have a baby with him this morning. Selene: Really stupid.

[amoripomoea]

related to my last rb i saw someone on tiktok do a spotify wrapped-style presentation of how many times they cried last year and why/where, and from what. so me and my sister are "competing" LMAO. she's got like 14 and i'm still in the single digits

[emmie-tt]

REQUESTS LIST

I updated my Request List, everything on here is the fandoms/people I will write for.

HARRY POTTER

Harry potter

Draco Malfoy

Blaise Zabini

Ronald Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Hermione Granger

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

Mattheo Riddle

Theodore Nott

Tom Riddle

Older Severus Snape (PLATONIC ONLY)

Young Severus Snape

Older Lucius Malfoy (PLATONIC ONLY)

Young Lucius Malfoy

Older Narcissa Malfoy (PLATONIC ONLY)

Young Narcissa Malfoy

Older Bellatrix Lestrange (PLATONIC ONLY)

Young Bellatrix Lestrange

Older Remus Lupin (PLATONIC ONLY)

Young Remus Lupin

Older Sirius Black (PLATONIC ONLY)

Young Sirius Black

Regulus Black

Molly Weasley (PLATONIC ONLY)

Arthur Weasley (PLATONIC ONLY)

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Billy Hargrove

Eleven (PLATONIC ONLY)

Max Mayfeild (PLATONIC ONLY)

Will Byers (PLATONIC ONLY)

Mike Wheeler (PLATONIC ONLY)

Dustin Henderson (PLATONIC ONLY)

Nancy Wheeler

Jim Hopper (PLATONIC ONLY)

Robin Buckley

Chrissy Cuningham

Lucas Sinclair (PLATONIC ONLY)

Johnathan Byers

Erica Sinclair (PLATONIC ONLY)

Joyce Byers (PLATONIC ONLY)

Karen Wheeler (PLATONIC ONLY)

TWILIGHT

Edward Cullen

Jasper Hale

Alice Cullen

Carlisle Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)

Bella Swan

Emmet Cullen

Jacob Black

Rosalie Hale

Esme Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)

Charlie Swan (PLATONIC ONLY)

Renesmee Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)

Leah Clearwater

Sam Uley

Seth Clearwater

AVATAR/AVATAR THE WAY OF WATER

Jake Sully

Neytiri Sully

Ts'utey

Neteyam Sully

Lo'ak Sully

Kiri Sully

Tuk Sully (PLATONIC ONLY)

Tonowari

Ronal

Tsireya

Ao'nung

Roxto

AVENGERS

Tony Stark / Iron Man

Steve Rogers / Captain America 

Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier

Sam Wilson / Falcon

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow 

Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch

Clint Barton / Hawkeye

OUTER BANKS

JJ Maybank

John B. Routledge 

Rafe Cameron 

Sarah Cameron 

Kiara Carrera

Ward Cameron

GREYS ANATOMY

Merideth Grey

Lexi Grey

Derek Shepherd 

Amelia Shepherd 

Mark Sloan

Addison Montgomery 

Callie Torrez

Arizona Robbins 

Alex Karev 

George O'malley

Isabella Stevans 

Jackson Avery

April Kepner

Owen Hunt 

Christina Yang  

SHAMELESS

Fiona Gallagher

Veronica Fisher

Kevin Ball

Carl Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Ian Gallagher (PLATONIC ONLY)

Debbie Gallagher

Jimmy Lishman

Mickey Milkovich

Svetlana Yevgenivna

Mandy Milkovich

Karen Jackson

CRIMINAL MINDS

Aaron Hotchner

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Penelope Garcia

Emily Prentiss

JJ (IDK HOW TO SPELL HER LAST NAME)

MISC. CHARACTERS

Austin!Elvis Presley (Elvis - the movie) 

Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

Anthony Bridgerton (Bridgerton)

Olivia Pope (Scandal)

Fitzgerald Grant (Scandal) 

 MISC. CELEBS/PEOPLE

Elvis Presley 

Kylie Jenner

Kim Kardashian

Khloe Kardashian

Kourtney Kardashian

Kendall Jenner

Megan Fox

Chris Evans 

Sebastian Stan 

Sam Worthington 

RULES

I will write smut, fluff, angst

I wont write about R@pe, Abu$e, Ince$t or Raci$m

All my writing will be fem/GN!reader, I wont go into detail about skin color, body type or really any personal details unless asked to

I want to keep my stories fun so try and keep the requests non boring lol :))

If you have any questions please ask

SMUT RULES

No knife/gun play

No Non/Con

No Age Play

Certain Aspects of BDSM are allowed (i personally am a Sub sooo)

Dom reader is allowed but I prefer Sub

No Pet Play

If I think of anything else i'll add it!

[lildoodlenoodle]

Just saw a man saying that there wasn’t enough gay men/mlm relationships in media compared to lesbian relationships,,, I’m going to need us to be very real and honest with ourselves right now

[vitriolo]

“Make a plan. Set a goal. Work toward it, but every now and then, look around. Drink it in ‘cause this is it. It might all be gone tomorrow.”

Grey’s Anatomy, season 5 (2008).

[transingthoseformers]

Ah, yes.

The Sparkling

[moonstonediaz]

the finale of grey’s anatomy…….ok wow

[mindfairylights]

˚. ❝₊˚ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 ↓↓↓

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Name: Syd

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Age: 20

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Pronouns: She/Her

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Likes: Taylor Swift, NewJeans, SKZ, Anime, 5SOS, Harry Styles, One direction, Horror Games, Esports, The Marauders, David Bowie, Doctor Who, Boy Genius, Daisy Jones and The Six, The Last Of Us, Final Fantasy vii, Criminal Minds, Greys Anatomy, Chappell Roan,Baldur's Gate 3, Dead Poets Society, The Hunger Games, American Horror Story, Station 19

⍣ ೋ 𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 ↓↓

─『 i'm currently making my own Folklore dress for the Eras tour 』─

⍣ ೋ 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 ↓↓

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 4:31

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Clean (Taylor's Version)

⍣ ೋ 𝐁𝐘𝐄 !!

☆Feel free to message me id love to make friends <3

[killjoygem]

Doctor who mention in greys anatomy!!

Despite my excitement I think this episode is gonna be cringey, greys tends to be rubbish at this stuff

Edit: AND A SECOND MENTION. They got a tardis

[supershop-49usa]

Grey`s Anatomy

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Unhappy with Your Product? We'll Take It Back!

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[kentahoe]

a nameless hamzah fic because i said so

srry i can’t NEVER come up with proper names for my fics. THIS PIC OF HIM MAKES ME TWEAKKK

hamzah x reader. female anatomy. friends to lovers sorta >_< .

cw: SEX idk what else to put i’ve never written smth like this before🤕 nothing out of pocket but nothing short of freaky deaky.

He was gentle, an easy smile played across his pretty lips, and his eyes were half-lidded in a way that made you feel casual. In every sense, he was someone you wanted to be around. The low hum of his voice when he told jokes, his cute teeth and calming smell.

Hamzah held himself on the couch very languidly, legs comfortably spread, leaning onto the arm rest, head tilted back ever so slightly so you could see the expanse of his neck.

Sitting up, he tilted his head towards you, smirking easily. “What? You picked this movie and suddenly you don’t like it anymore?”

Of course the one time you indulged; allowed yourself a glance, to drink in his essence next to you, of course that’s when he noticed.

“No, I just spaced out. I like it,” You turned back towards the TV, but you felt his lingering eyes on you. You almost felt like they had lasers, heat washing over you wherever they swept past on your face and body, like you had been zapped.

“What are you thinking about? You were looking right at me.” He still has that easy grin, and you feel your eye twitch in annoyance.

But could you ever really be annoyed at him?

“I don’t even remember.” Shaking your head, you chanced looking over at him, meeting his eyes.

They were deep and warm and pretty. Dark eyelashes that curled slightly, that made him even more beautiful. “I think you do.”

Simple response. Simple enough that you couldn’t come up with an answer. One flutter of his eyes and all the words were stolen from your chest. In your head, you were filing through things to say, and the longer you were quiet, the more stupid you were sure you seemed.

“I…don’t.”

Hamzah inhaled a breath, removing his hand from the side of his face where it was resting. He lifted himself with his arms, shifting in his cross-legged position to face you on the couch. It startled you a bit, because you didn’t know what he could possibly be implying. Well, you did, but there was a nervousness in your gut.

He uncrossed one leg, letting it fall over the edge of the couch, and he looked at you. With intention in his eyes. There was a goal he was working towards, but you weren’t sure what it was, if it wasn’t what you were thinking. His grey t-shirt was wrinkled a bit, and his black basketball shorts were riding up on his thighs, and you could help but exhale a breath looking at him, swallowing.

“I think you look really good,” you somehow found, straightening your back.

Hamzah’s grin grew, like he reached a new achievement. It would almost annoy you if he wasn’t so handsome. And if there wasn’t a heat boiling inside you that made the hoodie you were wearing almost unbearable. You could see his breath pick up, his chest moving.

It was almost a bit awkward, he let out a chuckle—a giggle— and your face heated up. Hamzah had inched closer to you on the couch, crossing over the barrier of his cushion to yours, and you suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

You shifted, thinking maybe you had read the situation wrong. “What? You asked.” You wanted to get defensive, blow the whole thing off and finish watching the movie so you could run away and die.

The giggle stopped, and Hamzah’s voice became very genuine, a comforting, inviting smile on his lips, that you couldn’t help but stare at as he spoke, low and intimate. “No, no. I—thank you, is what I meant.” He paused watching you, “I got nervous.” There was that giggle again.

Uncrossing your arms, you turned to face him again, lowering your voice to match his. “Nervous. In a good way?” Your eyes danced across his face. Although he tried his best to hide it, the shyness creeped up his neck and seeped into his expression. It was cute.

It was hot.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper.

His hand had moved up to his face again, half leaning into it, and half maybe to cover his face from the nervousness he was feeling.

And suddenly you felt very brave.

You scooted towards him, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist and lowering his hand from his face, watching as he chuckled again, leaning closer. “I think you look very good right now.”

Hamzah’s eyelids seemed to lower even more, and he hummed, his face hovering closer to yours, looking into your eyes through his lashes.

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

“You.. I—“ He started weakly.

There wasn’t enough time to process what you had done before you acted, closing the gap, pressing your lips together. You chest jumped at the feeling, and then flipped indefinitely when you realized he was kissing you back, heavily, needy. His large hand had splayed across your thigh, his other wrapping around the back of the couch as he leaned in.

Deciding after a few seconds that there wasn’t enough contact between you two, you moved your hand that was on his wrist up to his shoulder, then his neck, and the base of his jaw, guiding him to deepen the kiss, which he welcomed with fever, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. His hand became restless on your thigh, and he lazily moved it up and down, prompting you to scoot closer, where you eventually ended up on his lap.

For a moment the difference was odd, being slightly taller than him. But the way he looked up at you, god it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. His beckoning hands shyly trailing up your sides.

You wanted to take this moment in. A moment to look at him. You laced your fingers into his curls at the back of his head, leaning down to connect your lips again, where you let out a breath into his mouth you didn’t know you were holding. It came out sounding like a whine, which he clearly didn’t expect, because there was a hesitation at your audible desire. He chanced it and licked into your mouth, which produced a real whine from you, pulling slightly at his hair.

His chest rumbled slightly with each breath, as his hands found their way under your hoodie and to your back. You pressed closer to him, wanting to be in contact with every part of him. You met his tongue with your own, finding your jaw becoming slightly sore.

Pulling back, you breathed heavily, looking at Hamzah, whose eyes were almost closed, also breathing deeply.

You sat up and ran both of your hands over his shoulders and chest from your position straddling him on the couch. Down his chest and over his stomach. You scooted back more, letting your hands roam over his thighs.

And god, they made you more wet. Squeezing them slightly in awe. They were so strong and you always found them incredibly sexy.

“Fuck Hamzah,” You breathed, and Hamzah raised his eyes from your hands on him to your face.

“Hmm?” He was smirking again, though it faltered slightly when your hands ran close to his dick.

“You’re so hot. Can I…I need to.” You let your fingers dance over his growing dick, and he jolted slightly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, please.” It was quick, in one breath, desperate as he made eye contact with you, brows furrowed slightly.

Letting yourself caress him fully, you rubbed your flat hand over his bulge, stroking it between your pointed and middle finger, dancing all of your fingers over him.

Hamzah’s own hands were on your knees, squeezing them in reaction to your touches, his stomach flexing. You moved back more, allowing space to pull at the waistband of his basketball shorts that were probably too small, the way they hugged his ass and thighs. Pulling them down, he kicked them off and spread his legs wider, giving you access to his dick, that was growing hotter and hotter under your hand in his boxers.

His tip was sticky, and you used it when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him up and down. Fuck, he was big. Girthy and heavy, stiff in your hand as you worked him.

The glimmer of sweat was beginning to form on Hamzah’s hairline, and he breathed heavily, still looking up at you. You used your other hand to push his hair back, leaning down to kiss him hard, trying to get more sounds out of him.

It worked, as the sensations seemed to overwhelm him, because he stopped kissing you back after a few seconds, screwing his eyes shut and groaning, leaning his head down and forward. “Fuck, shit.” He breathed, and his hips rolled up into your slick hand.

You stared at him, amazed. “Hamzah,”

You didn’t know why you said his name, maybe it was just acknowledgement in what you were seeing. Him being so pliable and good for you. “You’re so hot, holy shit.”

Even in the middle of getting his dick stroked, he managed to let out a chuckle, not quite used to your praise yet, or how much it excited him.

He was getting dangerously close before he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Hey, hey stop. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

You suddenly remembered your own need. The burning heat that shot straight from your stomach, inflaming your limbs and igniting your core. You didn’t have to hesitate to answer him this time. “Yes, yes.”

And you kissed him again, gentler, letting him take the lead. He did, and he grabbed your waist, and slowly laid you back onto the couch, using both his hands to hold up his weight above you as you hand your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want you, so bad.”

Hamzah knelt between your legs, using his knees to spread them. “You’re so pretty. Your hair…looked really good today.”

The comment made you giggle unexpectedly, and you brushed it behind your ear. You remember dreading hanging out with Hamzah because you thought it was a particularly bad hair day for you. “Thank you, handsome. You are, you know? Really handsome.”

“I think I believe you.” Hamzah says, letting his eyes wander over your body.

You become aware of how hot you are, letting go of Hamzah to wiggle out of your hoodie, throwing it to the side. He grins, letting his hand fall to your hip, brushing his thumb over the material of your sweatpants. You kick them off shortly after, left in your underwear and sports bra. Too bad you weren’t wearing something cuter, but that did not seem to matter to Hamzah, he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen.

“You look good. Look hot.” It was a little awkward coming from his mouth, but it was so cute that it didn’t deter you one bit.

Instead you put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

And he did without another word.

This position, felt so much more real. Hamzah was about to fuck you, and you were wanting it badly.

Hamzah leaned down to kiss you again, connecting his tongue to yours immediately, hands roaming up your waist to your bra, his fingertips slipping under the fabric. You grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand up, lifting your bra and making his hand meet your breast, to which you sighed at, the pressure of his hand feeling euphoric.

Taking your bra off fully, Hamzah pulled back to look at you. Only for a moment, though he was internal freaking out, he told himself he needed to act cool. So, he exhaled and found it in himself let his fingers wander, caressing you gently, firmly. When you let out a whine, he let out what sounded like a surprised cough, “Fuck,”

There seemed to be a lot of that, one word cursing. But it seemed to convey communication well, enough to be able to grasp each others thoughts.

You were kind of tired of it.

“Hamzah, fuck me. If you wanna.” You didn’t know another way to phrase it.

“I do, I will.” A whisper, almost sounding like a threat.

To you, it sounded like a promise.

Finding the waistband of his boxers in the dim lighting, you tugged on them weakly, and after Hamzah had pulled them off, you ran your hands over the curve of his hips and the small of his back, admiring him. God, you could do this all day, you thought, running your nails down his spine.

He shuddered for a second, looking at your underwear before repeating (maybe to himself again), “I will,” With more desperation, an airy voice that made your cunt writhe and stutter. He hooked two fingers at the bottom of the fabric by your leg, sliding them over your smooth legs, dropping them at your feet on the couch, behind him.

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning to kiss you as his hand wandered, searing your body, down your stomach and to your cunt, and the same two fingers grazed your clit, sliding up the folds in an experimental way.

Jolting under him, you lifted your hips in protest. “Hamzah,” you warned, though it came out more like a plea.

Hamzah giggled into your neck, kissing it before moving back to your lips to give them a quick peck. He wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it a couple times, aligning it with your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds and over your clit, you hissed out in pleasure at the contact, it was becoming unbearable not to have his dick in you right now. As soon as he started to push in, you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed, ushering him in faster.

“Okay, okay baby.” He cooed coolly, his other hand grasping at your waist for leverage to thrust in. “Ah, shit…” Once he was fully in, he didn’t have the resolve to wait, and immediately set a thorough, deep pace.

And just as quickly, you couldn’t think straight, restlessly squirming, trying to move in time with Hamzah’s thrusts, beckoning him to go faster. The stretch was mind-bending, you needed more. “Hamzah, harder. Please.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you sighed when he complied, though just as deep as before, the thrust became harder and licked the spot inside you that caused a moan to lurch from your throat.

As some form of gratitude, you kissed him, lacing your fingers back into his hair. It didn’t last long, as Hamzah’s cool demeanor was slowly melting, and his own moans seeped from their trapped place at the back his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed pleasantly when his head leant back. “You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, eyes closed, subconsciously moving faster. “So good.”

Fucked out, is what he looked like. Sweat had accumulated farther down his hairline, and upon his top lip that was glistening, occasionally wetted by his tongue that would flick out on concentration. His eyes were screwed shut, thick eyebrows furrowed.

You moved your hands from the back of his head to the top of his head, pushing his curls back that were almost covering his eyes, wanting him to look at you. “Hamzah, open.” You told him, and though it took a moment, he did, and blinked heavily at you, his brows furrowed even more, and his lips parted in a pant, that could have been mistaken for a lazy chuckle.

“Hey,” He said with faux coolness again, and you snickered.

“Keep going,” you grunted, “like that.” Moving in time with his thrusts became easy and mindless— mindless: like he made you feel about everything— and quickly you were approaching your climax, a red-hot rod shooting up your center from your cunt, to the apples of your cheeks, and you new you were getting close.

The thought made you even more feverish, becoming louder and less concerned about your facial expressions. “I need—Hamzah I’m, ah—” He suddenly bit on you neck, not particularly hard, but the sensation was jarring enough, and it deployed a pang straight to your core, you squeezed around his cock desperately.

“I know, I know, baby. Come here.” Wrapping his hands around your torso and pulling you close to him as the reach of his thrusts increased, stroking your insides over and over again, and you finally teetered over the edge.

Hot magma poured from your center and oozed throughout your limbs, white heat flooding every cell, and you were trembling violently, opening your mouth in a moan and tilting your head back, to which Hamzah connected his mouth with again, giving his own indications that he was on the brink of cumming, too.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I—“

There it was.

“Don’t stop,” you assured when he hesitated.

You were still riding out your high when the heat inside you increased, and Hamzah’s thrust were almost animalistic, nails digging into your waist in a way that made your eyes roll back, and your insides were drowned in his cum, deep and full. Hamzah’s hands immediately traveled up to your chest again, rubbing comfortingly over your breasts, he didn’t pull out for a moment, panting, swimming in the aftershock of his orgasm. You ran your nails up and down his back again, and felt the muscles in his back relax, and he eased into you, pulling out and letting his body weight fall comfortably on top of yours.

You twirled his hair in your fingertips, slightly scratching his scalp as your breaths fell in rhythm, hearts connected, chest to chest, and each others warmth’s joining into one, sleep-inducing flame.

“You okay?” He mumbled into your neck.

“Of course,” You replied, looking down at him. “Are you?”

“I…can’t think.” He admitted sheepishly, smiling and kissing your neck.

“Can you think enough to make it to the shower, handsome?” You smiled at him.

Hamzah grew a grin on his lips. “We’ll see.” And he slowly rolled off of you, throwing his boxers on easily, picking up a blanket for you that was on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you and picking up your clothes, setting it on the couch. “After you,” he gestured in front of him, and you led your way into the bathroom.

second freaky fic i’ve ever written ;-; pls be gracious.

also lmk if u see any typos bc i am NOT proofreading allat😭🙏

[rustedhearts]

keepsakes (boxer!steve harrington x fem librarian!reader)

summary: the heat goes out during an autumnal cold front in your new hawkins home, so you make the most of a cozy day at home.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1995) ✶ the library ✶ ‘tis autumn

✶ roller girl’s pie stand!

tags: pure marshmallow fluff, allusion to smut at the end. akin to old boxer steve from ‘22

hawkins, indiana. october, 1995.

“They said they can’t get out until Tuesday,” Steve huffs, slamming the phone back into the receiver on the kitchen wall.

You groan into the steam furling from the ceramic pot on the stove. “Ugh, come onnnn.”

Steve shuffles into the room with a sigh, thermal-sleeved arms winding their way around your shoulders. They fold together over your chest, guiding you back against him. You let him tuck his mouth into your neck, lips warm, nose cold. You jolt a little when it brushes your skin, giggling when he huffs a harsh breath.

“Mm, I know, angel. But ‘m here to warm ya up,” he mumbles against your throat.

Each of you had enough layers on to keep decently toasty. What you could rummage out of boxes still taped up now sat in a messy pile on your bed upstairs. You hadn’t expected such a cold autumn and thought you had at least a few weeks before you had to break out the winter gear. But now a long sleeve turtleneck sits under a clove-scented 49ers sweatshirt, big and bulky and soft inside like you liked it. Your sweatpants are matching in black color, and you have your hair tied up just like Steve liked it.

He has a white t-shirt under a navy blue thermal that makes his hair seem more chestnut than usual. His sweatpants are grey, the Jimmy’s Gym logo on the top right thigh cracked and faded from wear. You have a pair of his white socks on, and you think it’s adorable that the pair of you have matching feet right now.

Steve presses a noisy kiss to the column of your throat. His hair tickles your chin and makes you laugh again.

“Whatcha got planned today, hmm?”

You stir the wooden spoon through your soup again. “Guess.”

Steve hums thoughtfully, lifting from your neck to squint at the tile. “Hmm, if I had t’ guess, I’d say…reading in that ‘lil window upstairs, pretending you aren’t freezin’ your ass off.”

You scoff, cheeks warming. “N-no…”

“No?” Steve tips his head and kisses your cheek this time. “Saw the book already out. Waitin’ for you. Can’t you hear it calling, baby? All those words you have to read.”

You giggle, squirming in his arms. “Stop, don’t make fun of me.”

You click the gas off and Steve coos, clutching you a little tighter. His cheek is lukewarm when it presses to your temple.

“Aww, my ‘lil nerd. ‘s okay, angel, you know your librarian glasses are so fuckin’ sexy.”

You clutch the handle of the ceramic pot and veer toward the counter, where two mismatched bowls are waiting. Steve gets the hint, matching your steps until you’re moving together. You tip the pot and pour equal amounts of the chicken soup into each bowl, splattering noodle and broth drippings as you go. The window above the sink beside you is beginning to fog with the warmth of the stove. Beyond it, your neighbor’s tree is a vibrant yellow. Shedding pointed leaves across the yard, stuck in the jagged edges of the wooden fence. They gather on Steve’s BMW window, suctioned to the glass with this morning’s rain. The sky’s still a muddled grey, and you have all the lamps and candles lit in the house.

Steve somehow always gets horny in candlelight.

“My librarian glasses? Grab some spoons, please, baby?”

Steve takes one arm from your chest to lean to the left and open the utensil drawer. He gathers two spoons in his hand and nudges it shut, immediately returning to ensure both arms are back in place.

“Yeah. ‘s a good thing, baby, I promise.”

You take the spoons dangling near your collarbone and plop one into each bowl.

“Stevie, can you take ‘em? They’re hot.”

Steve takes a bowl in each hand around your sides and reluctantly pulls away from you. The pair of you whirl around and head for the dining room, a bowl clunking onto a plaid placemat at each assigned seating. Yet as you pull your chair out and go to sit, a pout appears on Steve’s face. He hasn’t even touched his chair.

“What?” you giggle.

“I just…you’re so far away.”

“I’m literally right here.”

“Too far,” he huffs. He swings around and directs his gaze toward the living room. “Let’s go sit on the floor.”

A soft smile touches your face, that glowing warmth gathering in your cheeks again. Oh, something about the cold made Steve so sweet.

“You wanna have a carpet picnic?” You beam.

Steve tips his head back and rolls his eyes. “You and that damn movie—yes, angel, we can have a carpet picnic.”

“Yay, okay! Take the bowls, please.”

He hides his grin against the back of your head when you flounce your way into the living room, forgetting all about the goosebumps and shivers you endured when you woke up to a frozen house this morning. You peel the throw blankets off the back of the couch and lay them on the carpet, smoothing out any wrinkles you know Steve will replace in just a few moments.

The bowls are placed on the coffee table, a folded napkin under each. Steve waits patiently at the corner of the blanket, knowing you’ll let him know when he can join.

The lamplight above you catches and glows on your left hand. On the diamond glimmering on your second smallest finger, haloed with beams of orange. When you lift your hands and pass the flames of the fireplace, amber rays pierce through the crystalline gem.

Steve watches all the while. Watches you move your hands, knowing soon your diamond will rest above a wedding band. In a mere month, just a few short weeks—you’ll be his wife.

The thought alone has Steve sinking to his knees. You whip around to scold him for interrupting your process, but squeak in surprise when he catches your face and kisses you. He smells like cold air and leaves and vaguely of the Marlboro smoked a few hours ago. He smells like Steve.

When he pulls away, you sit back on the blanket and grin. “What on earth was that for?”

Steve assumes the spot across from you, kicking his legs out beside you. He reaches for the soup bowls and carefully places yours near your tucked-in knees.

“What was what for?”

You scrape your teeth over your bottom lip and laugh. “Never mind.”

You turn your attention to the chicken noodle soup and Steve turns back to you. Watches through his lashes as you lift your hands and wipe away wisps of hair on your forehead. Black sleeves curled over your knuckles to keep warm, your fingers appear beneath them in delicate form. He wishes to do nothing but kiss them and stare more at that ring.

“Is it not good?”

Steve blinks, lifting his spoon. Your lips are shiny with broth and oil, eyes rounded in his direction. They catch the fire like your ring and they make Steve swallow hard.

“N-no, baby, ‘s good.” He quickly shovels a spoonful of the soup in his mouth to prove it.

You do a little squirm and smile that makes Steve chuckle. He hunches over his lap to slurp the broth and you wrinkle up your nose.

“Ew, Steven.”

His spoon clinks against the bowl when he drops it.

“Heyyy,” he warns playfully. “Don’t start. There was no attitude at their carpet picnic.”

You giggle. “No, but there was a blowjob if I remember correctly.”

Steve lowers his bowl completely, eyes suddenly alert. “Well, that’s welcome any time.”

Broth bubbles with laughter in your bowl. Steve watches you take small, quiet spoonfuls. When he decides you were only joking and there won’t be an immediate gratification for his Pretty Woman joke, Steve goes back to his soup, too.

Soon the soup is gone and the bowls sit empty on the table. You stretch onto your stomach and place your head on Steve’s lap, allowing his fingers to work over your hair. He pulls it free from its confines and smooths it down. Massages your scalp until your eyes flutter. The flames of the fire rest in dancing orange shimmers on your face.

The rain begins again. It comes with a great howling wind, rushing through the trees and shaking colors loose. The house darkens to near nighttime degree. A grey darkness that turns all the candle flames and lamplight in the room warm.

“Will you read to me, Stevie?” you inquire softly.

Steve’s fingers lag in your hair. He shifts, resting back on his palm.

“Uh…I mean—you sure? Y’ know ‘m not very good at it.”

You let your eyes close and smile to yourself. “I’m sure. I love the sound of your voice.”

Steve smooths his palm over the crown of your head, cupping it. With your eyes closed, he’s free to grin down at you and know it’s just for him. Do you have any idea what you do to him?

“Gonna let me up then?”

You hum. “In a minute.”

“Okay,” he murmurs in agreement.

He holds you there a moment longer, watching the fire warm your face; your socked feet cricketing together at the edge of the blanket contentedly.

“Okay,” you say, pushing yourself up. “Now you can go.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he stands. “Spoiled. What am I getting?”

“You pick. I’m gonna bake some cookies.”

Steve watches you bounce back toward the kitchen with both soup bowls. “Well Jesus, have a little faith in me. I know my way around your shelves.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, setting the bowls in the sink. “You want chocolate or snickerdoo—“

Your words die on your tongue, slipping between Steve’s lips. He pinches your jaw in one hand and holds you still, mouth forced to pucker for his gift. He hums when he nips at your bottom lip, licking at his own when he releases you.

“Somethin’ t’ think about while ‘m gone,” he says, a heavy hand popping across the fat of your asscheek before he turns around.

Steve heads toward the stairs, ascending them while doing his best to crane over the railing and watch your flushed reaction until he no longer can. He immediately walks to your library–much smaller than the one back in California, but somehow it captured the girl he met in this very town better than anything in the sunshine state ever could—and directs his attention to your stuffed shelves.

He has absolutely no idea what he’s looking for, and stands for a while just staring aimlessly at the spines with his hands on his hips. He hears you clink and clang around in the kitchen. The beep of the oven. The slam of the oven door. It’s much colder in the library, and Steve swears there’s a draft in your window seat.

He turns to inspect it, pressing one hand firmly on the cold, foggy glass. As he leans over the plaid fabric of your window seat, his thigh nudges the corner of a leather-bound journal. He recognizes it immediately as the same journal always kept on the bedside table and in the bottom of your purse. It's always next to you so long as you can help it.

When he spins it with his finger, the Polaroid used to keep your last page inches its way to the edge. Steve slowly and carefully pulls it from the pages.

He sinks into the window seat when he's met with his own face.

Six years old now, the photograph is still as perfectly intact as the day it was taken. The flash collects in a younger Steve's eyes, making them appear darker than they really are. The film softens the emerald and violet bruise kissing his left cheek that Steve vividly remembers taking weeks to disappear completely.

He knows immediately where he's standing, where the photograph was taken by the color of the wall alone. The soft ballerina pink, the edges of rosebuds from now-outdated wallpaper. The arched mirror of your vanity rests just behind his shoulders, stretched and puffed broadly with the flex of his arms. Though the muscles are concealed beneath a heavy black sweatshirt, embroidered with his recent champion title.

And in the glossy white border just below his stomach where the photograph completes, remains your handwriting.

My boyfriend husband ♡

"Steeeve? Did you find one?"

Steve quickly clambers to his feet, shoving the Polaroid back into its place in the journal. He grabs the book you had sitting on your rumpled blanket on the cushion.

"Yeah, coming!"

His footsteps clunk down the stairs, and he's met with the scent of warm cinnamon when he finds you in the kitchen, wiping down the counter.

You spin with the rag in hand and a small grin. “Hey, did you find one?”

Steve sets the book on the counter gently. Your eyes turn to inspect the cover, surprised to see one of your “stuffiest” options waiting. Steve hates Dracula, and he hates attempting to read anything written before 1950.

Before you can question his choice, Steve takes a slow step toward you.

“How long do the cookies have?” he asks.

You glance at the timer. “Um…ten minutes, why?”

His hands smooth over your waist, thumbs pressing into your stomach. He grips you firmly, stepping until he can fit his head in your neck again. His response comes in the form of his mouth on your throat—latching on with his hot, wet suction. You gasp, hands flying to touch him: one gripping the front of his shirt and the other tangling in his hair.

He hums, releasing your skin to kiss it gently. He moves down, dragging his nose over your skin. His suction returns to the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the tendons are soft and waiting to be bitten. You jolt with a quiet squeak, grip tightening on his collar.

“St-Steve—“

“Shhh.” He moves one hand from your waist to your chin and tips it away to make room for his head on the other side of your throat. “‘s nine minutes now, angel. Come lay down f’ me so we can make the most of it.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the living room again, and you follow silently. Nearly hypnotized by his softness, tongue swollen dumbly in your mouth.

He takes both your hands to lower you down to the station of your carpet picnic. You thump to your knees, and he follows suit only to lay you on your back with his hand supporting the back of your head. When you’re flat, you blink up at him with bated breaths.

Steve smiles, fingers curling into the elastic band of your sweatpants. The house seems hotter than ever, a flaming warmth coating your body as his touch drags down your thighs with your clothing.

“Don’t worry. Your husband’s gonna take care o’ you, angel.”