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willthewise7 · 1 year ago

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Henry Creel and Patty Newby

As requested by many, I will be detailing in the form of a long analysis the relationship and, at first, the friendship that Henry and Patty had. Again, if you do not wish to have spoilers, please do not read on!

Firstly, Henry was misunderstood by his whole family. Alice said that it was "not Henry" that was in the house, just a random boy. Virginia was terrified of Henry, especially after the incident that occurred in Nevada that contributed to them moving to Hawkins for a fresh start. Finally, his father, Victor, was very oblivious to many different things and was generally absent. On his first day of school he was pretty much called weird and not listened to by any of his classmates. The only person who he connects with is Patty Newby.

They form an instant emotional bond with each other. You can feel the chemistry between the two of them. The dynamic has been likened by many to that of Mike and El when they first met. However, I do tend to disagree with this statement. Mainly, due to the fact that, Henry and Patty seemed to form an instant and deep emotional connection. They both were on the same wavelength. Patty is convinced that Henry is good and keeps reassuring him of that throughout the play. I'll get to his powers further on in this post.

After they first meet at school by the locker room, they form an instant bond. Henry talks about his Spyglass that he has and how he likes Superman. He even does the Superman pose and nerds out to that. Patty finds this funny and mentions how she loves Wonder Woman. They both bond over these topics. Before they leave the locker room they say an awkward goodbye and Henry walks off annoyed with himself that he made himself look weird and awkward in front of Patty.

The next time they meet is at a rehearsal for Joyce's play that she is organising. She is desperate to leave Hawkins and therefore she plans to do so through a scholarship. However, the play has to be successful for that to happen. Anyway, back to the story. As Patty is auditioning for the lead role and starts to sing, Henry jumps in out of nowhere and tries to help her gain confidence. He has a go at singing, not to an amazing ability, and everyone in the audience laughs at him. Again, you can see the bond as Henry is trying to help her and genuinely has feelings for her. They have further moments in the play where Henry helps her to calm down and sing, which leads us to the next scene they have together.

It's church day, where everyone goes and attends. The Creel family arrive and Henry hides in the backroom of the church. At the back he finds Patty doing the same thing. Patty is nervous to go out on stage and Henry tries to calm her down. They give confessions and Henry says how that he is not right and there is something wrong with him, he has some sort of power. Patty again tells Henry that he's good and maybe he can use his powers for good. Following that, Henry creates a vision for them both where the church turns into a dance. Patty has the lead role of singing and is adored by everyone who reacts warmly to her performance. During the vision Henry tries to put his arm around Patty to try and get closer to her, but Patty gets caught up in the positive chaos of the vision. Henry gives her confidence through his powers, demonstrating that he can use them for good purposes. He is not inherently bad.

They spend literally everyday together, they really have a strong bond. Not only was it romantic love, they had a true friendship. Their next crucial scene together was during a date that they had at Melvalds. This is where Henry reveals to Patty that he can read people's minds and see what they're really thinking. He tells Patty that Karen thinks Ted is an idiot and Ted is afraid of Karen. Also, that most of them in the place were pretending to like it, really they were bored. Patty is astonished by this and also laughs. Shortly after this, Patty and Henry share their first kiss together.

Unfortunately, the next part is where things start going downhill for their relationship. It's mainly all because of what was going on with the Mindflayer, plus everyone else not being accepting of them being together. When I say not being accepting, I don't mean due to it being a race issue. It was simply that they were not approved of being together by some. Particularly Brenner who wanted Henry for himself, he saw Patty as an obstacle to controlling Henry. After Henry broke out of the HNL, due to Virginia contacting Brenner to take him there, Brenner wanted to find him again. One way was through finding where Patty was as he knew Henry would go for her.

Anyways, let's get back to the story again. Patty convinces Henry to look for her biological mother and Henry is not keen. He knows this could go wrong if the Mindflayer possessed him. They meet up and go to Henry's attic to start the search her mother. Patty mentions how it is cold in the attic, which Henry says that he likes it cold, which is what Will says in Season 2. He manages to find her performing and singing. Patty is so happy to hear this news. However, like Henry feared, the Mindflayer managed to take him over whilst he was in the void looking for Patty's biological mother. Patty gets frightened when Henry tells her to leave so that she doesn't get hurt. Patty's father, Principal Newby, finds them in the attic. To give context to this, Victor Creel goes to speak to Mr. Newby after he mentions how he should know that Henry and Patty are dating. He therefore decides to come over as he is not happy with this. So Mr. Newby walks into the attic at the wrong time. He tries to get Patty away from Henry which leads to him being attacked and almost killed. He is lifted up into the air. Patty manages to encourage Henry to take back control and beat the Mindflayer by telling him she loves him. Henry manages to break through the barrier and tell her that he loves her too. This stops the situation and saves Patty's father. However, he suffered the consequences of the attack by falling through the attic floor when he was dropped, alongside being blinded and seriously injured from the fall.

When we see Mr. Newby lying on a hospital bed, he suddenly wakes up after being visited by Patty. He tells her that he was attacked by a monster and that he saw it. He goes on to describe how Henry saved him from the monster. He proceeds to draw an image of what the Mindflayer looks like, detailing the shape of a spider looking dark shadowy creature. He hands this drawing over to Patty.

After these events, this is when Virginia sends Henry away to the HNL with Brenner. Later on after Patty learns that Henry did in fact save her father, she returns to the Creel house to try and find Henry. She calls out for him and manages to communicate with him. Henry contacts her through the void and they both are able to speak to each other. Patty tries to convince him that he's still good and she believes in him. She encourages him to return home and to play alongside her, as they auditioned to do so, in Joyce's play. He commits to this and decides to return, leaving the HNL. He rejects Brenner's attempt to try and make him kill another man and leaves the lab. Brenner tries to stop him and suffers the consequences of nearly being killed.

Brenner has a significant influence over Virginia Creel during the play and provides her with medication throughout, in the form of tranquillisers. He convinces her that Henry needs help. He goes to Virginia after Henry breaks out of the lab and tells her that he escaped. Virginia is immediately worried that he is a threat. Brenner reassures her that he can control him but needs to find out where he could be. He suspects that someone is holding Henry back and asks Virginia about this and she tells him. Although before we get to this point, we need to mention the Creel massacre. This occurs before Henry sets off for the play and to see Patty. When he returns home, he reads his family's mind and sees that Virginia has been contacting Brenner and talking about how Henry has never been good and is willing to give him up for good. He does so through seeing her memories. During this moment, Henry is very angry which allows the Mindflayer to take over. During emotions of hate and fear, this is when he loses control. We can visually see Henry having some sort of fit inside his mind. On the stage of the play we see two versions of Henry to demonstrate that he is stuck in his own mind. Meanwhile, the Mindflayer is controlling his physical body and can be seen hovering over the room. After which, Virginia and Alice are killed. Henry then leaves for Hawkins High to see Patty, hoping to get there before Brenner finds him and her.

Before finding Patty, Henry runs into Joyce. who voices her suspicion that Victor is dangerous and was behind the animal killings in Hawkins. It could be argued therefore that this gave Henry the idea to frame his father. Before she explains who she is suspicious about, Henry is worried she is on to him. So the Mindflayer starts briefly coming through until she reveals that it's Victor. Due to this, Henry calms down and he takes back control.

Moving on now, Henry finds Patty on stage but is momentarily joined by Brenner. Brenner attempts to convince Henry that Patty is the thing that's holding him back from his true potential. Patty tries to convince Henry to not listen to what Brenner is saying to him. Brenner also tries convincing Patty that Henry is a killer and is dangerous, that he killed his family. Henry tries dismissing these claims but he starts to get mad and angry at Brenner. Brenner knows what he is doing and is trying to incite this anger to get him to cause a reaction. Brenner is so deranged that he wanted Henry to keep killing to get stronger powers. The Mindflayer therefore starts to takeover and Henry does his best to try and stop it. Unfortunately, it does not work and he loses control. Patty falls from the rafters after the Mindflayer forces him to push her.

Henry basically is now back at the HNL and appears to try and contact Patty through the void. This is where we then see a scene where Patty finds her mother. So she did survive, this is where it's unclear whether she tried to find Henry again or not. Maybe she can help end this story.

#byler #stranger things 5 #henry creel #patty newby #stranger things the first shadow #tfs spoilers #hentty

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chaos-is-beautifvl · 2 years ago

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𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐩

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie has never put much thought into who your dad is and why he’s never met him until one evening when he wishes he never knew || inspired by daughter of a cop - tv girl

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: hopper!reader, fluff, getting caught, tickling (think that needs a warning), hopper being overprotective, eddie being scared for his life, mike being a little shit as always

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2075

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thinking of writing a part 2 where hop talks to joyce like he did w/ mike. i have a lot of ideas for this story that i didn’t include so this might be a little mini series if you guys are interested feedback is golden & i’d love to hear you what you think! feel free to send a request, guidelines here!

part two preview! part two here!

buy me a coffee ☕️!

Three things set off Hopper’s dad alert when he got home.

First was the van parked in his driveway. Now, this wasn’t a big deal. His kids always had someone new around. After the fourth person, he stopped keeping track.

Second was the repeated calls of your name to see if you were home, followed by him walking through the house to your room. He was slightly surprised to see that your bedroom door closed. Not that the rule necessarily applied to you, but you always had your door ajar due to you constantly listening to music.

That led to the third thing that activated his protective papa bear instincts. Not only was the music louder than usual, but the metal banging playing inside your room was definitely not your music.

So, when adding each thing together, the outcome was not a good one.

He didn’t allow himself to think about what was going on behind the door before he barged in. What he found was neither what he expected nor wanted to see.

A little before

The two of you were introduced through the kids and instantly hit it off. After much pining from the both of you and unabashed flirting on Eddie’s part, a date came. Then another. Then another. Then another until you were spending most of your time, both free and at school, with the eccentric brunet.

You convinced Eddie to really try at his studies this semester. He kept mentioning how ‘86 was his year, but as you so kindly reminded him, it wouldn’t be his year if he didn’t do his work.

So, like a good friend, you offered to help him study. That resulted in an exaggerated groan from Eddie, who fell to the ground, acting as if he had died. Nevertheless, the brunet gave in, and the two of you made your merry way to your house in his van.

No one was home, and Eddie never paid much attention to why he hadn’t met your dad or how anytime he came over, no one was there. Truthfully, you were saving Eddie by not introducing the two just yet.

You mentioned before that your dad was a bit crazy, and of course, Eddie laughed you off, saying no one was crazier than him. Oh, how wrong he was.

Eddie was listening to you explain the chemistry homework with an apparent disinterest when he suddenly stood. You halted your talking, staring at him quizzically.

“You look so comfortable sitting there,” Eddie said, a smile surfacing on his face. You let out a confused chuckle, “Thanks...?”

He squinted, bending into a crouching position. You narrowed your eyes in realization.

“Eddie…” He slowly crept over to you, a wicked smile on his face. “Edward Munson, don’t you dare—” You squealed as the brunet stuck his tongue out before pouncing on you. His hands found their way to your sides, fingers dancing across your skin.

“E-Eddie!” You squirmed around, messing up your previously made bed as you attempted to free his torture.

Now, contrary to what others might think, Eddie is a sweetheart. A big softie. You have always thought positively of him until this very moment when you think he’s a bit of a monster.

Your uncontrollable fits of laughter turned into pleas. Though you admired Eddie’s agile fingers while they strummed on his guitar, they were now the cause of your despair.

“I’ll stop on one condition,” Eddie said, pausing so you could speak. You told him you would do anything if he stopped. He grinned devilishly, “I’ll stop if you say ‘Eddie Munson is the freakiest of all freaks’.”

You snickered, brows raising - this time not because he was tickling you but because you were amused. “Seriously?”

“No? Okay, then.” Before you had a chance to say anything, Eddie was back to his torture. That continued for a few more seconds until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay!” You squeezed out in between laughs. “Eddie M-Munson is the freak—” His fingers ran across your exposed ribcage, and you squirmed, attempting to get the rest of your words out in one go. “Freakiest of all freaks!”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You looked up to see Eddie grinning as he hovered over you. You weakly slapped at his arm, panting. “You’re a menace, Munson.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he stared down at you. “And you’re really pretty.”

Your face flushed. Not that Eddie hadn’t complimented you before, but you weren’t expecting it, especially after he had just finished torturing you only moments prior.

“So are you,” was your breathy reply. He really was.

A hand came into view, and you thought Eddie would tickle you again until it rested on your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

You swore he could feel the warmth rushing to your previously flushed face and hear your heart beating out of your chest at his question.

Before you could give him an obvious answer of “yes”, your bedroom door flung open. You almost didn’t hear it over Eddie’s loud music playing from your cassette player.

You barely had time to react when you heard the words: Get. Off. My. Daughter.

Eddie was quick to hop off of you, stumbling over a fallen pillow in the process. Once you finished adjusting yourself, you turned to your dad, heart beating out of your chest - but not in the pleasant way Eddie had.

The brunet standing next to you looked equally terrified as Hopper stared you down. You reached for his hand to calm him. Hopper watched your movements like a hawk.

When he started speaking, he was eerily calm. That made you worry more. “Who are you, and why are you in my daughter’s room?”

Eddie glanced at you, and you squeezed his hand reassuringly. “We weren’t doing anything, Dad. He was just tickling-”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Okay, not much you could do there. It was Eddie’s turn.

“My name’s Eddie.” His hold on your hand tightened. “And like she said, we weren’t doing anything, you know?”

Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose as if to push off an impending headache. He breathed in sharply. “No, I don’t know, Eddie. And it didn’t seem like nothing when you’re in my daughter’s room, on top of her with her shirt pulled up.” He took a step closer, and Eddie backed up.

“So, you tell me, punk…” Hopper’s eyes widened as he poked Eddie in the chest. “Why the hell are you in my daughter’s room?”

“Um- I-” Eddie tried to form a response that wouldn’t further anger the man in front of him. He winced, his explanation more of a question than a statement. “We were studying…?”

Hopper turned around, his back facing you. Eddie sent you a wide-eyed gaze, mouthing something like: ‘this is your dad?!’ You could only shrug, offering him a sympathetic look. You leaned over and whispered, “I told you you wouldn’t want to meet him.”

You were so right about that, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Eddie couldn’t help laughing. It was short - a chortle or a snicker at most. Your eyes widened as Eddie slapped his free hand over his mouth.

Your dad cackled as he tapped his foot, hands on his hips. Just as you were about to call out to him, he turned around and lunged at Eddie, who let go of your hand to dodge his attack.

It was your turn to look shocked. You quickly recovered as Hopper tripped over the same pillow Eddie had when he lunged again.

“Eddie,” you called. “I think you should go. Like now.”

Eddie was already snatching up his lunchbox. If your dad was this worked up over simple tickling, he didn’t want to know what he would be like if he found out that Eddie dealt drugs.

“Great idea, Y/N! Already thinking of it!” As he turned to dash out of your room, Hopper got up and chased after him. He reminded you of an angry bear, which was something you’d laugh about after the fact. You followed after, hoping you wouldn’t have to take Eddie to the hospital after this.

Eddie ran outside, fumbling with his keys. He was too busy trying to run for his life that he hadn’t noticed the kids standing in his path.

An arm shot out, stopping Eddie from bumping into them. “Woah, man,” Mike said. “What the hell are you doing?”

El clung to Mike’s other arm, and you tried to tame the wild animal that was your dad from killing your boyfriend. Eddie planted his feet and pointed to the burly man charging at him like a bull.

“That! That’s what I’m doing, Wheeler. Running from that!”

Again, if this were a different situation, you would be laughing your ass off, but now wasn’t the time if you wanted Eddie to stay alive. And, you really wanted him to stay alive.

“Wait, what? Why is Hopper-” While Mike could be annoying as shit at times and pretty oblivious most of the time, he caught on surprisingly quick. He glanced at Eddie, then Hopper, then you - then back, and Mike knew what happened. A laugh escaped him, jolting his body, and El looked at him in confusion.

“You and Y/N,” he sputtered out more laughter, and honestly, it wasn’t that funny. “Oh, man, this is gold.”

“Yeah, yeah, Wheeler, laugh it up. Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie had dropped his keys from fumbling hands for the umpteenth time. He was visibly sweating, and you felt sorry for him.

“How long has this-”

Mike was cut short by a frustrated growl as Hopper struggled to rise from the ground after you knocked him over with a pillow. “I’ll call Joyce if you put one finger on him.”

That seemed to knock a little sense into the man. Keyword: a little. But it did give Eddie more time to sort out his predicament. An ecstatic “aha!” came from the brunet as he finally found the correct key and hopped into his van.

The engine roared to life and ironically got Hopper started again. He jumped to his feet, not even worrying about the dirt on his clothes, and ran towards the van.

Thankfully, he didn’t make it in time because what Eddie did once he knew he was safe was a little risky, even for him. As he pulled out of the driveway, he stuck his head out the window. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N’s dad! Maybe next time you won’t try to kill me! Bye!”

Now, this time you did laugh. Eddie was living up to that menace title. Hopper disrupted the small amount of peace when he turned to you with a livid look. He reminded you of a cartoon character - you were sure there was smoke billowing from his nose and ears.

“Inside, now!”

You rolled your eyes at him, letting the previous events settle in. When you didn’t move, he snapped his fingers. “Now, Y/N!”

“Fine!” You followed him inside, shutting the door to keep Mike’s nosy ears out of your conversation, not that it would help any. Before he could open his mouth, you quickly voiced your grievances.

“Dad, what the hell was that?”

Hopper turned to you with a wild look. The only time you had remotely seen him like that was when Mike was getting on his nerves with the amount of time he spent with El that one summer.

“Oh, ho, missy. You don’t get to say anything.”

“But, Dad,” you huffed frustratedly. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“No buts!” He stalked over to your door, yanking it open. “And from now on, keep the door open three inches!”

“I’m not a little kid.” Maybe not the best thing to say, but you were upset. He had misread the entire situation, scared away the first and only guy you were interested in, and was now trying to make you follow some bullshit rule that he gave El when she and Mike were sucking each other’s faces off.

“Okay, then. You’re right.” You nodded, satisfied until he opened his mouth again.

“Three feet! This door stays open three feet. How’s that for not being a little kid.”

Hopper left you standing in the hallway with your mouth agape and your eyebrows furrowed. Welp... That’s what you get for being a daughter of a cop.

#this was so fun to write #chaos-is-beautifvl #chaos.writes 🖋#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x hopper!reader

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crappymixtape · 2 years ago

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lost in you

lucas and max talk about their nightmares | ( 1.5k, fluff, talk of nightmares, trauma, angst, lucas x max )

L O S T I N Y O U 🎶 heliotrope, runnner

"Dammit!" Lucas' voice broke through the buzz of everyone else laughing and roughhousing around the living room. The music coming from the tv mocked him, bringing out a frustrated growl as he chucked the NES controller to the carpeted floor – dead. Again.

"You're cut off, Sinclair," Steve sniped from the couch, getting up to grab the discarded controller, "What is that like, the tenth time you've died? Everyone knows the goomba shows up there."

The look Lucas gave Steve from where he sat on the floor said plenty and he punctuated it with a mumbled, Asshole. Grumbling he shoved himself up off the ground and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl Dustin was holding on his way to the kitchen for a Coke.

It was Friday night, the best night of the week, weekend shining on the horizon as school and homework and early morning alarms faded with the potential of the next two days. Dustin, Mike, El, and Robin had started the night with a full bowl of popcorn until Dustin decided to throw kernels one at a time across the room at Eddie. The older boy then proceeded to make it full on war, the others following suit without needing much convincing.

“Okay, Henderson, that’s how you wanna play it??” rushing forward, Eddie grabbed the younger curly-haired boy in a headlock with a grunt.

“HEY. That’s not fair! Eddie, you can’t–– Mike help!” Dustin yelped, arms flailing, both of them laughing so hard their sides hurt as the bowl of popcorn popped out of Dustin’s hands and hit the floor, an explosion of little white puffs.

“No way, I don’t want another wedgie,” Mike quipped back before covering his head preemptively, El floating popcorn off the floor and over her boyfriend’s head. With a flick of her wrist it dropped out of the air and bounced off of his hair as she giggled.

Lucas could still hear playful bickering as he stooped down, opening the fridge to grab the last can of soda off the top rack. Cracking it with a satisfied pshhh he took a drink and leaned back against the counter.

The peals of laughter that filtered into the kitchen sounded normal. Made it feel like it was just another Friday night. Feel like it did before everything. Before Vecna. Before he’d held Max in his arms, begging and pleading with her not to die as she laid broken and bleeding on the floor.

He could still hear her voice, could still feel the way his hands held onto hers as if they were a lifeline, as if they were the only thing keeping her alive.

His eyes flicked up to look through the kitchen doorway, glimpsing her shock of red hair that was messily twisted into braids. Sweeping a hand across the carpet, Robin grabbed what popcorn she could and hucked it over the couch into Max’s face.

“Oh real mature,” Max sniped, but her lips were curled up in a grin as she ducked to run away from Robin and into the kitchen.

“Hey, stalker,” Max said so casually, so unbothered, as she came into the kitchen, moving to gently poke at Lucas’ ribs to get him to move away from the fridge.

“Hey,” his tone was flat and sounded far away. He tried his best to give her a smile, but it only half reached his lips and she straightened, abandoning her search for whatever she’d thought was in the fridge.

“What is it?” fridge door slipping shut as she took the half step to stand directly in front of Lucas, Max stooped a bit to try and catch his gaze that was aimed at the floor.

“What? N-nothing. It’s nothing, we should get back–” he shoved off the counter to walk past her, but her hands caught him at the chest and held him back.

“It’s not nothing,” Max knew better than that, she could read Lucas like a book and something was clearly bothering him.

He heaved a sigh from his lungs and shook his head, abandoning his can of Coke on the kitchen counter. If he told her what was really bothering him, what kept him up in the wee hours of the morning staring into the inky black of his room. Had him covered in a cold sweat, heart hammering in his chest. If he told her it would bring everything hurtling back into their lives.

“Lucas…” Max’s hands were gently taking his hands then into hers, tangling their fingers together in a rare show of empathy that was saved only for quiet moments alone like this.

Her touch grounded him, pulled him out of his head, and when he lifted his gaze his deep brown eyes met her bright blue ones. He clicked his tongue and bit into his lower lip, considering, but the way she was looking at him he wouldn’t last. “The nightmares,” he finally offered, voice quiet and smaller than normal, “They’re back.”

Max’s brows pulled together, hands giving his a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “I’m here,” she said simply, one of her hands releasing his to rest upon the line of his jaw, “I’m here.”

“I know, but you’re not. Not when it’s just me. Not when it’s in here,” his free hand moved to point a finger to his head, pulse fluttering in his neck as his heart constricted like it was being squeezed in a vice.

“Hey, hey,” she lifted her other hand then, both of them resting on either side of his face, pulling him down to softly bring their foreheads together.

“Henderson! I’m going to kick your ass!” Steve’s voice cut through into the kitchen as Dustin squealed in the living room.

Rolling her eyes Max wasted no time in grabbing Lucas’ hand and dragging him out of the kitchen. “C’mon,” pulling him out into the hallway she led him down to his room, “Idiots.” She didn’t bother flicking the light on as she closed the door behind them, the laughing and yelling in the other room blunted as it clicked shut.

“C’mere,” still holding his hand she led him over to his bed and gently pushed him to sit, taking up the space next to him as she tucked her legs into her chest.

She studied him for a minute, his face half lit from the street lamps outside his window and half in the shadows that crept up from the floor. Max wasn’t going to push him or tell him what to do, he would say something when he was ready, but what she did know was that he needed this. Needed quiet.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Max dropped her gaze to her knees, a scab forming there from when she’d fucked up an ollie earlier in the week. She let out a small huff and looked back up at Lucas. “I still get them too,” she said simply, her jaw set as she paused, thinking. “He’s not really gone. Not here, or here,” she said, first gesturing around them and then at her head just like Lucas had.

Turning to face her fully, Lucas left one leg dangling over the edge of the bed, but slipped the other one alongside Max. He didn’t say anything, but took her hands again, his thumb brushing softly over the bumps of her knuckles. “I’m sorry I can’t fix it,” his eyes lifted to look into hers again. They were sad, heavy, carrying the weight of things no teenager should ever have to shoulder.

Max’s brows furrowed and she shook her head. Keeping one leg tucked she looped the other over the top of his leg that was dangling over the edge of the bed. “You can’t be sorry for things you can’t fix,” she said, tone firm, but gentle at the same time, “So don’t be.”

Looping her arms around his neck she felt him cave, kicking his legs up onto to the bed and turning so he could put his head in her lap. “It’s bullshit,” he said against her stomach, voice muffled in the fabric of her shirt.

A small, dark laugh escaped her and she shook her head. “Yeah. It is,” her hands smoothed across his back, up and down his arms, over the back of his neck. “We’ll be okay,” she said softly, not really believing it, but hoping that by saying it aloud in the dark of his room maybe it would come true.

Lucas sighed against her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. They sat in silence again, listening to the sounds of Steve’s pool next door humming up through the open window, crickets singing their late night serenade to the moon.

Neither of them knew what was going to happen to Hawkins. To them. But for now felt normal. Felt okay. And that would be enough.

crappymixtape™ • stranger things masterlist // steve harrington masterlist

#lumax fanfiction #lumax fic #lumax fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #angst #lumaxedit #max x lucas #lucas x max #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things lucas #stranger things max #stranger things lumax

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miekasa · 4 years ago

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call me (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: fluff, humor? you can be the judge of that i suppose, levi is quiet and often practical, but you cannot convince that there’s not a small part of him that doesn’t enjoy having shit to hold over people lol

↯ notes: this is also cross-posted from another blog, but i tweaked it a bit to fit levi and rewrote/edited parts i wish the world had never seen </3 also i’m reposting bc i was an idiot who accidentally deleted it on mobile rip

↯ word count: 1.3k

↯ summary: drunk you is not amused by the man who keeps trying to coerce you into his apartment; even if that man is your boyfriend and that apartment is his apartment.

“Alright mister, I’m trusting you for now because you’re Erwinnie’s friend, and Erwinnie is my best friend,” you hiccup, wagging your pointer finger as threateningly as you can in your current state, “So if he says you’re a good person, you’re probably a good person. Or good enough.”

Levi holds back a knowing smirk, and loops his arm through yours to steady your balance. He doesn’t know how or why Erwin let you get this drunk, but he’s at least glad the blonde was sober enough to call him to pick you up instead of letting you get in a cab; or worse, attempt to take the bus.

“I’m so very glad you trust me,” he says, voice flat as your wrap your other arm around his bicep. You hum back, a little spacey and like you maybe didn’t hear what he said.

You’re honestly pretty cute when you’re drunk. It’s not something he gets to see often, as you don’t allow yourself to let go frequently; nor do you usually have the time to. And it’s not that he particularly wishes for you to be drunk to the point where you can barely stand, or remember his name, but all things considered, Levi is happy that your general drunk disposition is happy, too.

He waves Mike goodbye as he wrangles Erwin into his car, not holding back his smile this time as you wave over-excitedly at the blonde in the passenger seat, calling his name loudly to tell him goodnight and that you’ll miss him, like you hadn’t already told him goodnight three minutes ago, or spent the last three hours with him drinking. Yeah, you’re cute.

Thankfully, Levi doesn’t live too far from the restaurant you and Erwin were at, so the both of you are home after a twenty minute walk—what should have been fifteen minutes, but was prolonged by your drunken fascination with a squirrel on a public bench.

You start to wobble more when Levi unlaces your arms to get his keys out of his pocket, and he moves his right hand to rest against the small of your back so you don’t fall. However, drunk you is not so entertained by the idea of his hands anywhere near your waist as sober you would have been.

“Hey, hey, hey—hold it right there, mister!” you stutter, words a bit too loud for the confined space of Levi’s hallway at three in the morning, “I am not going in—into that suspicious apartment with you.”

You stumble as you try to remove Levi’s hand from your waist, and he tries to steady your balance again, but push him away more forcefully, staggering into the wall behind you.

“Ah, bitch,” you curse, holding your head and groaning. The pain clearly isn’t enough to stop your accusations against Levi, as you’re back to wagging your finger at him, even hunched over from your drunken stupor, “See, this is your fault.”

Levi sighs. He doesn’t know why you’re holding your head, because you hit your back, and from what he can tell, you shouldn’t have hurt yourself that badly. He’ll take a closer look at you once you’re inside. That’s if he could get you inside to begin with.

He can’t wrangle you and open the door at the same time, so he goes for the latter, finally pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock his apartment door, then attempts to move you inside. Keyword: attempts; because anytime he puts his hands remotely near you, you slap them away.

“Come on, we have to go inside,” he grunts, trying again to get a hold of your arm, but you whack him away harshly. For a drunk person, you seem to have the strength and dexterity of a pro-athlete all of a sudden. Where was all this coordination when he was trying to get you up the stairs five minutes ago?

“No!” you growl—once again, too loudly for the time and place. “Haven’t you heard of the saying no means no, mister? I might be drunk, but this is not my apartment, and I am not going in there to have sex with you!”

“I’m trying to help you go to bed. I’m not going to try and have sex with you.” Levi takes a deep breath. This could sound really bad if anyone else woke up and heard the two of you.

But you’re not having it, crossing your arms and turning your body so that you’re now facing the wall, your back towards a less-than-impressed Levi. “Well, I don’t believe you. I’m going to call Erwinnie tell him you’re being a bad friend, and then Erwinnie is going to call my boyfriend and he’s going to come and pick me up.”

“Oh yeah?” Levi drawls, leaning against his door frame, watching your silhouette as you clumsily search for your phone in your pockets, “Why don’t you just call your boyfriend then?”

You turn on your heels as best you can, and muster up your most menacing glare. It’s not menacing in the slightest, and it actually makes Levi crack a smile, which you do not take lightly; but that only makes him smile further, because sober you doesn’t like it when he’s not fazed by your self-proclaimed intimidation tactics, either.

“Fine,” you huff, finally putting your phone to your ear, “But you’re going to be sorry, because Levi is going to come here and kick your ass.”

Levi chuckles, feeling his own phone ring in his back pocket, “I bet he is.”

“He is,” you insist, stomping your foot for dramatic effect, “He might not be that tall, but he’s strong as hell, plus he’s handsome, and he doesn’t let people fuck around with me, so say your prayers, mister.”

The following afternoon is far less than pleasant. You feel groggy, tired, and like everything is moving in slow motion. Piece by piece, your memories of your night out with Erwin start to come back to you, but you can’t seem to recall anything beyond your fifth margarita.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Levi calls, sarcastically, upon entering the bedroom.

His voice and presence surprises you, but then the realization washes over you that you’re in his apartment and not your own. You’re not sure why yet, but you could probably take a guess.

“Did you take me home last night?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement, nodding his head towards the bedside table, where you find a bottle of water. Levi watches you as you move to hang your legs off the side of the bed and reach for the bottle, groaning in the process. He mentally notes that he should make you breakfast—or, well, at this point, brunch—after you go shower, so that you can take an Advil for the pain.

He moves across the room to sit beside you on the bed, careful to not disrupt too much as to make you spill the water on the sheets. “You know, for someone who’s so happy-go-lucky when they’re drunk, you put up quite the fight yesterday.”

“I did?” you turn to him, capping the bottle, eyes wide with surprise, “You were probably sleeping and you had wake up and come deal with me, I’m sorry, Levi.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures you, an almost uncharacteristic and sly smile playing on his lips, “You always say something interesting that keeps me entertained. It makes up for it.”

“Dear god, what was it this time?” you groan, throwing your head back, “I didn’t confess my feelings for you again did I? This is, what, like the sixth time since we’ve been dating? I’m such an embarrassing drunk.”

“Not a confession this time,” he chuckles, “The opposite. Maybe worse.”

Levi fishes his phone from his pocket, and pulls up his voicemails before handing it to you. Curious—and a little bit scared—to find out what could possibly be worse than confessing to your boyfriend of almost four years that you’re in love with him and sad that you’re not dating him? You’re not sure that it could get more embarrassing than that until you click on Levi’s most recent voicemail and hear your own voice crackling through the speaker of his phone.

“—What, hey, fuck off, mister! I don’t want to go into your scrubby apartment! I am happily dating Levi Ackerman, and when he gets here he is going to grand slam your sorry ass into the ground!”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

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4ng3l-0n-34rth · 3 years ago

Text

Intimidated: Part 2 // a Steve Harrington x Dustin's sibling! reader

a/n: Heyyyyy once again this is a part in a series, and the other parts will be linked below so please read those beforehand! Apologies for this part taking so long i wanted to make sure the way i was taking this story was perfect for all of you lovely readers!

warnings: mild swearing, minors using substances (CONTAINS SEASON 4 CHARACTERS BUT NO SPOILERS)

summary: continuation of the previous parts! Steve just dropped you off and he figures out a way to keep you around for just a little longer.

and as always,

enjoy!!

2,124 words

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As Dustin stayed back in the car, you couldn't help but try and figure out what was going on. With Lucas by your side the both of you discreetly watched the conversation go down through a window facing your drive way. "What do you think they're talking about? Dustin looks so.... serious, and with Steve of all people I don't think I've ever seen him wear a straight face in the vicinity of him." You ask Lucas, but never peel your gaze from the window.

"Wait, wait, wait. He's smiling now! Did something change?" You prodded at Lucas again, and with no response you look to the boy, a little confused. When you notice an expression of fear on his face you follow where he's looking and realize your mom had pulled in front of the house, since the driveway was full with you and Steves car's parked there. "SHIT!" you blurt out, leaping from the window and running to the door.

As your mother got out of the car, she immediately walked up to Steve's car and knocked on the passenger side window, where Dustin was still seated. He jumped at the sound of the knock, and Steve just stared at the woman. Your mothers attention was immediately diverted to you when she heard you slam the front door. "Dustin! I told you to not hold him up and come inside!" You shouted to your brother, trying to play off the fact they were both still in the car in your driveway.

Although you all knew no harm was done during your little outing, your mother was constantly worried sick about your wellbeing, so knowing you went out without telling her where you were going, put you and Dustin both on the chopping block. "Oh hi Mom! So glad you're home, I'm just trying to get the kids ready to go to the Wheeler's when Steve stopped by, and you know Dustin, he loves the guy!" You laughed, hoping she wouldn't see through this 'mere coincidence.' Steve and Dustin both got out of the car, and Dustin hugged your mom before running inside.

"Oh , Steve! How have you been my boy!" The woman cheered, waltzing over to Steve to give him a tight hug. "What brings you over so late?" She asked. At this point Steve panicked a bit, unsure of what to say, until it finally hit him. This was his chance to take you out, and there was no way you could pass him up, because if not it meant she may not believe your little fib. "You were actually just the woman I was hoping to speak with!" He smiled. "You see, I would love to take your daughter to a movie tonight, theres a night showing of The Breakfast Club at this new theatre. It's a grand opening type thing since the old one burned down with the mall." He spoke smoothly, as if he had used this lie time and time again.

You looked at him confused, but let him continue. "What a gentleman," Your mother smiled and pinched his cheeks. "Oh Y/N dear, what do you say? It sounds like the two of you would have fun!" She grinned from ear to ear, getting excited by the thought her 'baby' may finally get themself a boyfriend. "If you'd let me, I'd love too, but someone still needs to take the boys to Mike's" you smile nervously, still baffled by what Steve had just convinced your mother. "Don't worry about them dear, I have them covered, you two just have fun!" She cheered, and went into the house to get Dustin and Lucas.

"You'd love to take me out? Really, thats your master plan Harrington?" you giggled, and moved closer to him. "Well I don't see your mother questioning anything," he shrugged, and headed back to his car. "Well, are you coming or not?" He glances over to you, and pats the top of his car. "You, Steve Harrington, are going to take me to a late showing of The Breakfast Club?" you asked. "Well I actually have no idea what's showing tonight, but I do know theres a party tonight." He smirked, but it morphed into a frown, when he was met with your deadpan stare. "Yeah, sorry Steve, but I don't think your little parties are really my kind of scene." You admit, and although you weren't opposed to hanging out with him, going to a party full of all the people you went to school with, all the people that talked behind your back, didn't necessarily sound ideal. "Oh, c'mon Henderson! It'll be fun, I'm sure you'll find a crowd somewhere!" He pleaded, and with a quite audible sigh, you nodded your head and got in the car.

The drive there was particularly fast, since you lived in a pretty central area, and nothing in Hawkins was ever very far from one place to another. As Steve parked around the block, since just about every park-able space was already taken, you could already hear the music blaring. Looking out the side mirror you could see the house in the background, people littered all over the front lawn, almost flooding out of the big house the party was being held in. Just seeing the crowd made you nervous, and you were prepared to just go home. "Hey, trust me the minute you get in there you're going to be so worried about the music draining out your thoughts, you wont even acknowledge half the people that are there." You could tell he was trying his best to be comforting, due to his tone, and it actually did make you feel a little better. You got this Y/N just tune everyone out and focus on the shitty music.

As you got out of the car you took a deep breath, and without another word walked over to the party house, and Steve just followed close behind you. The closer you got the more the bubblegum pop music rang though your ears, and you could feel yourself settle a little. Walking inside you realized no one was was really paying attention to who was where, and they were just trying their best to enjoy the night, however they saw themselves doing so. You eyed the kitchen and immediately swapped your route to make a straight shot for the countertop stacked with liquor and booze these students most likely stole from their parents cabinets. You grabbed a plastic cup and poured in whichever cheaply labeled clear liquor was closest to you into it. Then before taking a sip you mixed it with whatever punch was in the bowl beside the glass bottles.

"Woah there partner, you just got here don't go crazy on me." Steve laughed, getting himself a glass of punch as well. To your dismay, you figured out the punch was already heavily spiked, and didn't realize that til you already filled a cup full of it. "Don't worry about me Harrington, I can handle myself in a crowd just fine, and this is to loosen me up partner," you giggled waving your cup up when you referenced your drink, then took another, somewhat large, sip.

"What's going on in the backyard?" you asked, looking out the windows. "Well when it gets all noisy, people are probably doing keg stands or jumping into the pool from the roof..." he tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, "but since theres no crazy screaming, I can only assume it's mostly the stoners." He finished and took a sip of his drink. Something in that statement peaked your interest, so you immediately darted for the backyard, Steve tailing you, so you didn't get lost in the crowd. "Ahhh, now this is more like it," you sigh and survey the surroundings. It was way more calm then it was inside. People just hanging out in respective corners of the yard, smoking who knows what, and one group with their own boombox peaked your interest, since the music they were playing was much better than whatever was on inside.

You decide to walk up to them, if you were at a party, you may as well befriend some of the guests, and these guests specifically seemed like they'd be your kind of people. You sat down on the grass mid conversation, not speaking since they were. Soon enough they stopped speaking though since Steve was standing behind you, almost looming over you and the rest of the group. "Hey we don't want any trouble man." One of them said, and Steve just laughed. "Not here to cause any man, just looking after this one." He pointed to you and you waved, smiling big. "Hi! I'm Y/N and I like your music!" you were quite giddy, which was an expression Steve would liked to get used too. You went to take a sip of your drink, and the next thing you knew it was empty and you looked up to the man standing over you holding your cup out. "You don't think you could top me off, could you Harrington? I can handle myself with these kind gentlemen." You smiled, and didn't move your hand until Steve took the cup from you. Not without an eye roll and a scoff though.

"So boy's what's goin on over here?" you ask, trying to join in whatever the topic of discussion was. "Hey, you're Y/N right?" one asked you. After looking at him for a moment it hit you. You knew him as well. "OMG! You're.. Gareth? You're in my study hall!" You reach your hand forward to shake his, but instead he fist bumps you. "Yeah that's me!" He then introduces you to the rest of his group, but of course one man needed no introduction. You knew him because he's been a Senior since you were a Sophomore, 'something Munson' you thought. "Didn't really see this as your kinda scene," you admit, looking around the group. "Well Henderson, I didn't expect to see you here either," The Munson kid, or I suppose adult, snapped right back.

"Your beverage M'lady," Steve said handing you your drink back, now full of the same punch you had earlier, although after taking a sip it was minus the extra whatever you had added in. "Thank you Stevie, now take a seat I like these guys." You pat a spot on the grass next to you and he complies. "Hey Munson, you don't happen to have weed on ya by any chance, do you?" you asked, honestly a little surprised by your own words. Sure drinking and smoking wasn't new to you, but it definitely was to do it in front of so many people. You were a senior, so obviously you came by these things from time to time, but it was always something you did by yourself, kept to yourself. "Who would I be if I didn't," was al he said, before pulling out a little container, filled with pre-roll's. Steve was beyond shocked by your behavior, especially knowing your family this was a reach for you, or at least he thought it was. You aren't really the readable type so even if this was your casual Saturday night, he would've had no idea.

You smiled widely and reached over to take one, but looking up to the curly haired man for the okay before actually taking it. As you pressed it between your lips, you asked a question while fishing through your pockets for a lighter. "Hey, Munson. Don't think I caught a first name." You stated, still fishing for a lighter. "Well it's Eddie, and don't worry doll, I gotcha." He took a lighter out of his jacket pocket and lit the tip of the joint in your mouth. Steve was baffled, awestruck, not once in his life did he think he would be sitting here with you. Looking at his expression made you laugh, and with the laugh came some coughing from the smoke you were yet to exhale. You immediately chugged the rest of your drink to ease the burn. "Hey chill out big guy, you think it's weird that i know how to relax outside of babysitting my brother?" He nodded blankly. "Y-yeah a little.." you lifted up the joint to him, "Just let yourself calm down Steve," you plead. "Oh no I'm alright with one drink, I'm driving you home." you pout and lean a little closer. "We could always walk! I live not too far, just crash at my place so you don't need to go all the way home, it'll be fun!"

"Fun huh?" Steve asked. "I guess I could have a little fun."

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#stranger things #stranger things x y/n #stranger things 4 #st #st4 #st fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dustins sister #stranger things netflix #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #stranger things steve #steve harrington x henderson reader

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80s4life · 3 years ago

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Little Dove*

Word Count: 3,949

Status: Not Requested!

A/N: Had a thought lol

Fandom: Karate Kid 1985

Relationship: John Kreese x Student!Female Reader

Summary: You had stayed around throughout all of his bullshit. Throughout the beginning of a forever-long battle with Daniel LaRusso, throughout losing all of his Cobra Kais, going through crippling debt, and now, more than ever, as he tries to put himself together. You’ve been there, the whole time. So why is it, that when a random man from his past appears, all of his problems are fixed without a glance your way? What does this Terry Silver have that you don’t (besides endless money and a history)? It’s unfair. It’s selfish. It’s Kreese.

Taglist: @intersellars-the-alien-of-human @snapessecretdiary

Warnings: smut, teasing, jealousy, age-gap paring, language, Terry being an overprotective cockblock, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight dubcon, daddy/little girl kink, degrading kink

Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist

{not my gif, credits belong to @atmostories}

I just love how innocent he looks here lol ^

Staring into the window of his office, you make no attempt in engaging in the conversation your peers were having, the people on the other side of the glass proving to be more interesting at the moment. Besides, it’s the same conversation over and over again, “Terry’s so great,” “The money,” “The brawn,” “The elegance,” you snort. All that Terry was anyway was trouble with enough money to pay off his stupidity.

The other man, however, was different. He did not become as fortunate as his younger companion. He went through many hardships that Terry would simply never understand. The proof: you. You had been there, through thick and thin. You can still remember the fights, injuries, and brokenness of a man like a slideshow constantly playing in your head, haunting your dreams. You should’ve left a long time ago, but you didn’t. There were points in your life that made you consider dropping him and everything he was in contact with at one point. But, yet again, you never did. All you did was forgive and forget, most of the time without apologies.

But no matter how much you’ve tried, there was always one outlier that couldn’t be erased.

Holding onto your brothers shoulder, you congratulate him on how well he’d done. He lost the tournament, but it was his heart that shined through it. Johnny was the one who handed LaRusso his trophy even as they were beating each other senseless moments ago. Pulling him in tightly, you whisper, “You did good, Blondie. We’ll get ‘em next year.”

He smiles broadly at this, returning the favor, “You didn’t do too bad yourself, Tiny. Hell, maybe next year, you’ll be the one to beat his ass for me... That, or you’ll be the same height as him,” he ruffles your hair.

“Shut up!” you swat his hands playfully, shouldering his side, then making your way over to the man of the hour. “Congratulations,” you outstretch your hand, “You were tough to beat! I’ll get ya one day though!” you point to him smiling as Johnny pulls you out of the arena with him.

“Thanks...Oh, and I’ll hold you to it!” he yells back, lifting his trophy high above his head. You leave with a sly smirk and playful roll of the eyes, not bad LaRusso.

Walking outside, you smile at Kreese nervously, knowing that he wasn’t going to take the loss lightly. Ignoring you completely, he snatches your brother from your grasp within moments, pinning him the the nearest car in the parking lot. With Johnny under the weight of Kreese, you try to yank him off, no longer in fear of your actions but what could happen if you don’t act fast. Shoving you out of the way with a hard jab of his elbow to your eye, Kreese goes back to harming your brother, switching positions as he goes to tighten his arm around Johnny’s neck.

Tommy, fearing for his life, stands still, on the verge of passing out. Dutch goes to help you up, pulling you away from Kreese’s proximity, but not for long. Full of anger and disappointment, you tear you body away from Dutch’s, giving him a stern look that he acknowledges and respects, stepping back. You run towards Kreese once more, putting more force into your pushes and shoves. He catches your eyes for a moment, anger glazing over his own as he gets a good look at the utter helplessness and determination within your own. He doesn’t loosen up though, tightening his hold even more so as if to test you.

Lunging once more, he blocks you from him and counters with a hard blow to your face. You fall again at Kreese’s feet, Johnny’s purpling face looking down at yours in fear and worry. As you go to make a final attempt, your prayers are answered, a man about your height grabbing Kreese’s fist in a vice grip. In a daze, Johnny is able to slip from his hold to the ground beneath him, falling into your outstretched arms as you lunge, again, to protect his head. Kreese, now turning his fury onto the short man, goes for a punch, missing and smashing the glass beside his target.

As the fight starts to get worse, Dutch gets a hold of Johnny, taking his weight off of yours and dragging him to safety. Jimmy and Bobby, going to help Dutch, leaves Tommy to help you up. Taking his hand gratefully, you are able to see Kreese’s demise clearly, a burning crimson decorating his now busted fists, no doubt shredded and in need of medical care. You turn back just in time for him to look your way, grief washing over your figure as you feel a sense of uncertainty.

The boys get into Johnny’s car quickly, pulling out of the car lot. Tommy, silently turning his calming body to yours, questions you with his eyes. Shaking your head lightly, you signal for him to go with them, your head hazy with the brute force of numerous blows previously clashing with your face. He nods knowingly, smiling weakly, as if questioning your motives or even why you were considering the choice you’d made up. Johnny looks back at you too, but is reassured as the short man, Mr. Miyagi, places a hand on your shoulder. As they peel out of the lot, you sigh and all the strength you’d conjured dropped instantly.

“You need checkup,” the older man states, looking you over.

“Yeah, but I need to take care of him first,” you point at the man.

“Ah. Good heart always forgives. You come by dojo sometime.”

“I’ll think about it,” you answer, kindly excusing yourself as LaRusso runs over to Miyagi, leaving just you and Kreese left in the parking lot.

Slowly, you pace yourself as to not speed too closely, too quickly to the man, walking lightly and quietly. Upon entering a close proximity, he looks up, neutral expression catching you off guard. Blinking once, he looks back down at his continuously bleeding hands, acknowledging your presence but not daring to step the line of communication. He never does.

“Do you...Do you n- ...?” you start, at a loss for words as you try to rephrase the question in a way to still make him feel superior without appearing weak to himself, “Do you want my help?”

He doesn’t say anything as an answer, just simply stares at the reddening hands.

So, following his chosen behavior, you adopt it and act the same. Slowly, you take off your fleece sweater, soft and warm to the touch, and move closer to Kreese. As you move into his personal space, you don’t dare look him in the eyes, and go to rip a piece of the sweater in half. Silently, you carefully take one of his hands in your own, them swallowing yours in turn. Wrapping the now torn cloth around his fists, you slightly tighten the material around the injury to prevent further bleeding, tying off the ends to keep the sweater where you want it. Turning to do the same for the other hand, Kreese never winces, or sucks in a breath, or even grunts in anguish.

As you finish your duty, you step back, parts of your hands and some of your pants now coated in differing amounts of blood from the constant dripping mess he’d left it in for a while. Taking in a deep breath, you look at him directly for the first time of the night, “Get in the car.”

That was the first of many nightmares that litter your mind. You grew into a tough, headstrong, and independent woman not only physically, but mentally as well. You were no longer the child looked down from the tip of Kreese’s nose, and despite your height not making much of a difference, you had filled into your body, soul, and mind. You were a woman nonetheless.

You were understood by Johnny, but to an extent. As you had continued to serve Kreese, it was only right that Johnny distanced himself from him, and with that, came you as well. You accepted this, and knew that you were not at war with him, settling for calls and texts when you missed him most. Johnny still allowed you the time to talk about your problems like you did in high school, and even let you rant about the newest situation with Kreese. Everyday, he worried for you, but he knew that this was what you wanted.

He knew you fell for him before you even had.

After that night, you went through phases with Kreese: sometimes he was happy and nice to you, other times was full of anger, arguments, and nonstop screaming at one another. You were like an old married couple without the ring, matrimony, and age. You didn’t pay any mind to it, the mixture of feelings for him stronger than the will to leave as you’d wanted to in your youth.

But overall was the feeling of betrayal, or at least a form of it. For 4 years, after the night of the failed tournament, you were with Kreese, and finally, when things started to clear themselves out, another problem arose. Although shit out of luck, Kreese was ready to give up the dojo, give it to the owner, and move on in hopes of wiping the slate clean. You were ready to forgive him. And then, Terry Silver, unable to let the past be the past, convinced Kreese to give it a second try.

Now as you sit in a circle with Dennis, Mike, and Snake on the mat of the dojo, doing some stretches before training starts, you couldn’t help but look at the men excluding you from something you had tried to keep alive as long as they had. Longer than Terry at least.

Snapping sounds through your frustrated haze, knocking you back into reality by Snake’s fingers. Scrunching your nose in confusion, you look at him, anger now turned towards him instead. “You keep drooling like that and we’ll all be slipping around and breaking shit. Then how would we be at the tournament?”

“Fuck you, Snake,” you get up, stomping to the office without another word. He just turns a mock-offended expression to the boys who give confused ones in return.

Storming into the small cubicle deemed an office, you turn to the men standing side-by-side. “Aw, what’s the matter sweetheart? The boys not playing fair?” Terry teases, trying to push your buttons.

Face now reddened with anger, you spit, “We don’t pay for you to sit around in your office and play with each other’s dicks. You can do that on your own time.”

“You don’t pay period as far as I’m concerned. And last time I checked, you weren’t of much use here anyways, Shortcake,” Terry rebuttals.

“And last time I checked, you're just here to tie your hair back, paint your nails, torture a kid half your age and an man even older than you.”

“Why you-!”

“Terry!” Kreese warns, a hand placed on his comrades’ chest, “It’s not worth your time, just go get the boys readied up for practice.”

“Sure...sure Johnny, I can do that,” he says eagerly, leaving the room with a side glance your way and elbow to the shoulder as he passes by.

Getting up from the back of the desk, Kreese loops around to close the office door, going back to where he was previously. “Wow, you really have that dog under wraps huh? Ready to bark when you say ‘bark’ or growl when you say ‘growl’?”

“Y/N, not now. You better cut this shit out now or I’ll kick you out,” he warns.

“Oh, so now your protecting him?! You’re going to sit here, right now, and threaten me for what? Because he served with you? Because you saved him?! What a load of shit!”

“Watch your mouth! You have no right to raise your voice to me! What I do with this dojo is none of your damn business, and will certainly never concern you. Ever.”

“Oh yeah! For sure! What did he even do, huh? What’s so great about him that is worth protecting his ass for when he’s never had to do anything in return?! I was there John! I was! I dealt with your shit for 4 years! Not 1! Not 2! Not even fucking 3!”

“I never told you to! No one was stopping you from walking out that damn door when everyone else had! I would’ve done perfectly fine without your ‘help’ when all it did was provide extra shit to take care of!”

“Really?! That’s what it was? Nothing? I dealt with your anger issues, your screaming! The god damn punches, kicks, spits, screams, hell anything you wanted to do in order to harm someone else to make you feel better! But that wasn’t me... No... Of course it wasn’t, right?”

“I’ve got no time for this. Stay in this fucking room and don’t move. You even dare come out into that dojo and you’re out. I have a winner to make and not some little girl to argue with.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, tears pooling at the bottom of your eyelids as the door hides you from view.

For hours, you sit in boredom, listening to the repetitive “hut” or “ah” as blow after blow is thrown into the dummies and punching bags. If only they could do that to me, take me out of my misery for fuck’s sake. But, despite the utter pissed state you were in, you did not move from the desk, even deciding to take a nap. It wasn’t until Dennis’ unusually loud laugh is echoed within the whole dojo do you finally wake back up. Looking through the blinds, you see the boys getting packed up. Doing the same, you walk out of the office just in time for Terry to leave with the boys a few moments later.

Speeding across the length of the mats, you take long strides in order to storm as fast as possible out of the cage that holds the biggest chains around your neck. Going for the door, you are unable to catch yourself as Kreese grabs your hand and flips you onto your back, splaying your body on the mats beneath you.

Groaning, you move to sit up, watching as he goes to lock the door to the dojo, throwing the keys somewhere and closing the blinds of the big glass panes adorning the front wall. Getting up, the harbored anger floods your being once more, “I’m done with your bullshit Kreese. Let me the fuck out so I can leave this place once and for all. You seem to be doing ‘perfectly fine’ with your boyfriend, so let me go!”

Without answering, he grabs you by the neck firmly, but not enough to choke you. The memories of Johnny instantly flood your mind, causing you to grab his hand just as tight, eyes peering straight into his. Noticing your change in demeanor, he loosens his hold a little and pushes your back up against the closest wall to your back. As your back collides with the wall, his lips clasp yours.

Whining in surprise, you go to pull back only for him to pull you closer by the neck. Realization dawns on you after a moment, and within seconds, your leaning into his touch absentmindedly. You only break apart once your lungs beg for more air. “There. Is that what you wanted?” he asks you, voice gravelly.

Ignoring his comment, you grab him by the nape of his neck, pulling him into you once again, tongue battling his own. Your tongue dances around, observing every crevice and tasting every bit of his mouth, grazing his teeth, biting his lips, and even tangling it with his. Taking control back, he shoves your body back into the wall, separating your mouth from his, a trail of saliva the only thing connecting your bodies.

His hand, long forgotten and hanging loose on your neck, tightens the grip back up firmly once again and moves his other to pin your arms above your head. Now basking in dominance, he kisses you once more, pinning his knee between your legs in the most delicious way. Taking advantage of the placement, you attempt to grind your core against his thigh to relieve some tension.

“Ah. Ah. Ah,” he warns, pulling his knee away and moving to unbuckle his belt instead, “On your knees, Slut.”

Obeying instantly, you do as he says and place yourself on your knees. Finally undoing the tie of his gi, he pulls his pants, alongside his underwear, down just enough to let his dick spring free. Gulping in admiration, you take in the view of his girth and length, precum oozing at the tip.

“Looks like your happy to see me,” you joke, loosening your tension in your shoulders.

Stepping closer, Kreese edges closer to your mouth, and, taking the hint, you wrap one hand around the base of his shaft. Your other hand, deciding teasing is the best get-back, wraps itself closer to the tip, thumb grazing the slit. Earning a shudder of pleasure from the man, he goes to move in closer again. Pulling your head away, you squeeze the tip loosely, staring up at Kreese.

At your locked gaze, his cheeks burn bright pink, enabling you to give the man what he wants now that he’s at a loss for words and flustered for you. Taking him into your mouth little by little, you stop just before the barricade of choking. Eyes locked onto his, you place your hands on either side of his hips for support, then take him in as fully as physically possible. Instantly, you are met by struggling moans of relief.

Swirling your tongue around and lapping at his veiny member, he struggles to control himself, the undying need for more consuming him. Pulling away just enough to keep the tip in your mouth, you nod at him, giving him the okay to do as he pleases. That was all he needed to start going, pulling your mouth around his cock again, and tangling his hands in your hair for a better grip. Thrusting into your mouth now, you try your best to breathe as you feel him start twitching, knowing you will be fine in a few minutes.

The closer he gets to ecstasy, the louder he gets, hips thrusting in any possible direction as his pleasure threatens to bubble over. “Look at me,” he orders, looking you in the eyes. Slightly confused, you do as told, looking at him through your eyelashes as he continuously uses your mouth. “That’s it, Good Girl.”

Without warning, he unleashes his load into your mouth, the hot and sticky cum shooting to the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow. Licking up the remains, you make a show of swallowing the contents as well, getting back onto your feet with a help of his hand. Pulling your body into his, he kisses you deeply, tasting himself.

You whine as you are still left in uncomfortable need for him, having not gotten your share just yet, the feeling of being filled a painful reminder. “Don’t worry, Daddy’ll take care of you.” And that, he does, getting to work on untying your gi and throwing the long-sleeved shirt over you head. Doing the same to him, you match his enthusiasm, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the room.

Playing with your clothed breasts, Kreese slips a hand under your bra to pinch your nipples, twisting them between his middle and fore fingers. Moaning, you pull him into your chest nibbling his ear. Gliding his hands down your sides and to your waist, he slowly edges his fingers slightly underneath your pants, pushing them down with your panties. As he busies himself with your clothes, you move your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, breasts springing free and instantly hardening at the new temperature of the room.

Fingers, teasing your entrance, catches you off-guard, moaning again at the first shocks of pleasure. “Kreese,” you start breathlessly, “Enough is enough. Mgh... Stop teasing me,” you try to order, impatient and horny.

“As you wish, Princess.”

Lifting up one of your legs and wrapping it around his hipbone, he lines himself up with your entrance, entering slowly. Together, you sigh in ease simultaneously. Nodding once, you lean your forehead underneath his chin, starting to thrust slowly. Knowing this isn’t the pace he prefers, and body adjusting to his shape, you pull him in closer, whispering in his ear, “Faster, Daddy.”

Jolting at the name, he fastens the pace, grinding in rougher strokes, rubbing every part of you body in the best way possible. No one’s ever filled you the way he is now, and it leaves you stunned in a trance of utter euphoria. Tapping your other leg, you hop up to warp both legs around Kreese. At the new angle, he thrusts upwards, the overstimulation causing you to shake in a new sensation.

Squeezing his dick tightly, you try to hold your orgasm off for as long as possible, but the building want of release causes you to topple over the edge quickly, spilling all over the body still within your own. Without faltering, Kreese continues his assault on your body, causing you to scream out in the fury of pleasure being all too much for you. Shaking harder, you struggle to keep yourself around his body for long.

Seeing this, Kreese keeps himself sheathed in your cunt, laying you on your back against the mats of the flooring. Grabbing your legs, Kreese bends them until your thighs meet your chest. Then, thrusting at the same pace as before, Kreese is able to fuck you senseless without further issues. Moaning screams of ecstasy echo throughout the dojo, the combination of yourself and the slapping of skin being the only noises in the room.

As quickly as you’d built up the previous time, your orgasm and need of release forms again, your pussy throbbing in anticipation. “Kreese..” is all you manage, the older man quickly teetering towards the edge with you. Thrusting the hardest he had the whole night, he manages only a few more before you both come at the same time, screaming as you pull him down by the neck and into your chest, your name falling from his tongue in multiples.

Sucking in as much air as possible, Kreese and you stay in the same position panting before he unsheathes himself and collapses next to you. Catching your breath, you cuddle into his side in a naked heap of sweat and satisfaction. “Are you still jealous of Terry now?”

“It depends, am I still as useless as before?”

“I don’t believe so,” Kreese giggles, “but if you pull another crazy stunt like that, I will really have to give you a good beating. Huh, Babydoll?”

“I like the sound of that,” you say, going to straddle his hips as he lays on his back, “How about round two and I’ll consider not ripping his throat out?”

“Deal.”

#john kreese x reader #john kreese imagine #john kreese #martin kove #martin kove x reader #martin kove imagine #terry silver #tig #thomas ian griffith #mike barnes #sean kanan #kk3 #kk1 #kk #karate kid #karate kid imagine #karate kid 1 #karate kid 3

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lesbian-in-leather · 3 years ago

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This might be too niche but I really want a Goes Wrong Show / BBC Ghosts crossover episode

Because like. IMAGINE

The Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society go to film a special at Button House

Pat can NOT handle the lack of organisation and is really trying to fix it. Kitty keeps telling him to keep quiet but he can't just sit ideally by and let all these safety violations go unchecked - after all, he earned his tech safety badge after only 18 attempts and 3 injuries

Thomas is immediately infatuated with Sandra, and is absolutely convinced she can see him because whenever she does her signiture look into the camera he just happenes to be standing right there

Julian decides Robert reminds him of someone from the opposition and so decides to fuck with literally every single prop he has. Robert blames Chris

Robin decides Trevor is his new best friend and genuinely tries to help with the lights and sound. He electrocutes Trevor

Kitty is really really invested in Max, and keeps cheering him on whenever he appears. She tries really hard to make him notice her, and is actually super invested in the play. She doesn't notice any of the things that go wrong, and is convinced that was all part of "the magic of theatre"

Captain takes it upon himself to make Dennis learn his lines. Captain does not in fact know the lines, but he feels like he gets the gist. Dennis can somehow hear Cap about 40% of the time and repeats the lines he tells him, much to the befuddlement of the other actors who have no idea where he got that bloody line from but it's still wrong. Dennis is convinced he heard someone tell him that was his line

Mary is convinced Annie's a witch and keeps following her around - Annie keeps smelling burning and freaking out because either this house is haunted or she's been electrocuted again

Vanessa is playing a Great Lady in the play, and Lady B follows her around telling Alison she should be more like her. Alison is trying desperately not to respond and ruin the performance. When Vanessa's character's scandelous dealings are revealed, Lady B is shocked and appalled and she certainly never approved of her for one minute, Alison, whatever do you mean? I was certain something was wrong with her from the moment she walked in here - I can always tell, you know

Humphrey's head is just vibing with Chris. He's really engaged, and is just trying to give him some pointers, however Alison keeps seeing him there and freaking out

Humphrey's body just wanders around the set, annoying the ghosts that want to watch the play and also freaking out Alison

Joanathon was locked in the basement with the plague ghosts within minutes of arriving. No one knows where he is, but they all have bigger problems. The lights are off, but the ghosts enjoy his company anyway

Annie and Vanessa are both convinced that Button House is haunted. Chris and Robert actually believe it, but refuse to admit it. Sandra is slowly convinced when weirder and weirder things start happening

The actors all believe that either a) Alison is a ghost, b) she knows about the ghosts or c) she's secretly a spy sent to ruin the play (that one's just Robert)

Mike is convinced that everything going wrong is entirely down to the ghosts. Whenever he tries to complain to Alison, though, that specific thing was just Regular Cornley Antics

Bonus:

Alison could see ghosts because she died and was brought back, right? Well since most of Cornley haven't actually died, they can't properly see ghosts like she can, but most of them have had near death experiances so...

Annie can feel the ghosts because she was electrocuted and almost died (if a ghost touches her, she gets the same feeling that they get if someone walks through them)

Vanessa can see them but only out of the corner of her eye, which only makes her even more jumpy

Dennis can kind of hear them, but only if they yell right in his ear (and even then it sounds like they're far away)

Robert and Chris can kind of sense when they're there, in the way that you can feel someone standing behind you. They're both convinced the other is messing with them, and refuse to reveal that they're scared

Jonathan can fully see ghosts. He can't hear them though, so being in the basement with the lights off doesn't really affect him until he's finally let out, and sees Jermima. He refuses to comment on her, because realistically what else do you do when you see a little girl ghost. No one realises he can see them until he says a hurried and fearful goodbye to Lady B as he leaves

#the goes wrong show #bbc ghosts #tgws

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flusteredloser · 4 years ago

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subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny. now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour.

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics. mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep. you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together. but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further. speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later.

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.”

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.” you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory.

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket.

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall.

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door.

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.”

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.”

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature.

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev.

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you... absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her.

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys.

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself.

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers.

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering?

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile.

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected.

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach.

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings.

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer.

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?”

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often.

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev.

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair.

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window?

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time.

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side, placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

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navalcriminalimagines · 4 years ago

Note

Going to the beach with Gibbs+ him seeing reader in a bikini for the first time

i’m sorry this took me that much time! i hope you’ll enjoy it!

warnings : smut

Mexico

you met Leyla and Amira when Leyla’s mother tried to get them back. You immediately hit off with Leyla, talking about difference things, mostly personal. Amira loves you and it didn’t take her long to call you Aunt Y/N. When she asked if you were Uncle Gibbs’ lover, Leyla saw something in your eyes, and she knew.

She is now the only one that knows, or actually the only one you talked about it with. Ever since they went back to Mexico, Leyla keeps telling you to visit them. Seeing the man you love flirting with some lawyer lady, you thought it was the right time to take some time off.

One night, before going home, you gave Gibbs a paper, “What’s this?” he asked, barely looking at the paper.

“I need you to sign it,” you said. “I’m taking a week off, now that our case is over,” Gibbs hummed in answer, and quickly signed the paper, before handed it to you. “Thanks,” you said and you were gone.

The flight didn’t take that much time, you couldn’t wait to get there. Leyla welcomed you with a hug at the airport without Leyla, “so good to see you, Y/N,”

The weather was amazing. Hot and sunny, it took you two days to get tanned. You were having fun with the girls and Mike Franks. The man probably knows something’s up, he keeps teasing you about Gibbs. “I thought he was coming with you,” “He sure is missing something,” he said when he saw you in your bikini.

“Shut up, Franks,” you just answered, with a smile. How do you wish Gibbs was there.

“He’s probably screwing over with that lawyer,” you told Leyla, on the third day. You two were on the beach at night, enjoying the beautiful view and the warm weather.

“I’m convinced he feels things for you,” Leyla told you. “Mike is too,”

Indeed, Mike does think so. That’s why he did everything he could to bring Gibbs to Mexico. On the fifth day, a friday, Franks went to the city and came back two hours later, with Gibbs. You were playing in the ocean with Amira while Leyla was making dinner.

“Gibbs, I’m glad you came,” she hugged him.

“Nice to see you, Leyla,” he smiled. “Where’s my goddaughter?”

“Beach with Y/N,” she winked at him.

Gibbs dropped his bag in one of the bedroom, figuring out just now it was where you were sleeping. There’s no other room in the house. Is he going to share a bed with you? He can’t do that and not making a move. He’s going to sleep on the couch.

He made his way to the beach, seeing barely your head and Amira’s heads out of the water. He saw her jumping on you, trying to drown you playfully. Neither you or Amira saw him coming, until he had his feet on the water. He only had a beach shorts on and sunglasses. Your heart almost stopped when you realized it was him. “Uncle Gibbs,” Amira shouted. He smiled. She tried to run in the water to get to him, he grabbed her and made her spin before hugging and kissing her, “Hey sweetheart! You having fun with aunt Y/N?”

“Yes, i’m trying to drown her! can you help me?” she asked with a big grin.

“I’m waiting for her to greet me first,” he spoke up, making sure you heard it. Your body was still underwater. You stood up slowly, reveling your perfect shaped body, and glowing skin. Gibbs’s heart sunk at this very moment. He watched you walking up to him, Amira still in his arms. He lost all his strength as he stared at you, he had to put the little girl down.

“Hey you,” you said when you were standing right in front of him. “Isn’t that a surprise?”

“H-Hi there,” he managed to say. “Mike invited me. Hope you don’t mind,” he did his best not to look at you from head to toes. You were so beautiful. Your bikini was only hiding what it has to hide. You didn’t have big boobs but it was perfectly shaped for your body. Gibbs imagined for a second what it would be like to touch, hold, caress and kiss them.

“Uncle Gibbs, are you coming in the water or are we going to just stand there?” Leyla said.

He smiled and grabbed you by the waist, putting you over his shoulder like a potato bag. One of his hands softly brushed your firm ass, sending shivers in your spine. “Gibbs! Not my h—“ he threw you in the water. Which was the worst idea. When you got back on your feet, you rise from water like the most beautiful mermaid. “You’ll pay for this,” you said playfully, Amira was still laughing. You looked at her and tried to grab her but Gibbs protected her from you, putting his arm around your chest. You had your back against his chest, skin to skin. You loved it. “Come on sweetie,” he invited Amira to drown you.

The three of you played until Mike called out for you. Dinner was ready, Franks offered a glass of bourbon to Gibbs and a beer to you. You had a really nice dinner all together. Amira quickly fell asleep in your arms, exhausting from playing all day.

Sun was going down, you had a little summer dress, with your bikini still on. The dress didn’t cover much more, Gibbs was enjoying the view. Leyla and Franks agreed to go back inside, leaving you two alone. “Are you having nice vacations?” he asked.

“Amazing. I understand why you wanted to retire here years ago. It’s beautiful and peaceful,” you said, like at the sea and the yellow-orange sky.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming. Mike had been bothering me since monday,” he told you, “I’m leaving on sunday and you can stay a few more days if you want,”

“I’d love to, but it has to stay occasional. Otherwise, I won’t enjoy it as much as I am now,”

A silence built itself between you. As you watched the sea, you thought about a midnight bath with him. How wonderful would it be? Your naked bodies in the water, touching each other, kissing, making out, making love... You were sad he put a t-shirt back on. You loved the early sight on your bare chest, haired as you imagined, strong and shaped like you love. Should you make a move? Is Leyla right? Is he interested? You looked at him from time to time. You noticed he was looking too.

“Water is at the perfect temperature at this hour,” you let him know.

He looked again at you and chuckled. “Need to check that by myself,” he stood up, and offered his hand. You took it and you and Gibbs walked to the sea, hand in hand. He watched taking off your dress, reveling your body again. He needs to get into water before you saw him getting hard. He followed your lead and the two of you got into water.

“It’s not midnight yet but feels like a midnight bath,” you said.

“We aren’t naked,” he answered.

“Yet,” you murmured but he heard and smiled. A short moment after, he showed off his shorts “I am,” he said.

This was no or never. “Give me a hand?” you turned your back at him. Your hair were tied in a messy bun, Gibbs softly went for your bikini’s knot. He undone the first on your neck and the second in your back. You felt his fingers brushing your skin. You felt like you were missing air. You held on your top for a moment, before letting it go on the water. You still had your back to him, and you took off your bottom. “I am, too,” you said.

Neither of you knew what to do for a long moment. Although he couldn’t see it, knowing you were naked made Gibbs semi hard. “You are beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered. You took a step back so your body was against his. it didn’t matter for the water. You felt his cock against your ass. You wanted him more than you ever did. Gibbs gently kissed your neck, shoulder and collarbone. You hummed in content. He made you spin around so you were facing him, he didn’t even looked at your breast, he immediately went to kiss you deeply.

You let access to his tongue in your mouth. One of your hand was in his hair and the other on his chest, while his hands were rubbing your back and ended on your ass. As he grabbed your ass’ cheeks, you moaned in his mouth which made him smile. Gibbs was getting fully hard, his cock slid between your legs. “Don’t want to ruin the mood but I don’t want our first time to be a quickie in the sea,” you said.

“Me neither,” he answered but stopping kissing and touching you was impossible for Gibbs. He grabbed your legs to make them around his waist. He started to walk out off water, until you both became self aware you were completely naked on the beach. The waves took your clothes to opposite sides. You laughed and Gibbs followed you.

After you recollected your things, you put your dress on and told Gibbs to wait for you. You ran to the house, took a blanket and went back to him. You grabbed his hand as you were running, not giving him time to realize he had to run too.

There was a hidden spot further on the beach. You put the blanket on the sand and took off your dress again. Gibbs didn’t give you another second, he picked you up again before laying you down, kissing you passionately.

His erection came back as quickly. “you sure about this?” he asked.

“More than anything,” you kissed him.

His hands were traveling your body. He grabbed one of your breast and caressed it for a moment before moving to the other. Then his mouth found its way to it, and you moaned. He loved the sounds you were making. While he sucked on your nipple, his right hand moved to your pussy, softly touching your bottom lips. He could feel how wet you were, “So wet already,” he smiled against your skin.

“Don’t want—teasing, Jethro. I need you inside of me,” you whispered to his ear.

“Let me enjoy the view first,” he got on his knees, in front of you. He looked for a moment at your naked body, laying there just for him. It was the most beautiful sight he ever saw. Your body was perfect in every way. And the way you looked at him was making him melt. You had love and desire in your eyes. So did he.

“FYI, I’m on birth control,” you let him know. With your hand, you reached for his hard cock but he didn’t let you.

“No teasing you said,” he intertwined his fingers with yours and lined himself with your center. He stoked his cock against your clit a few times before sliding inside of you. The contact made you both growled from pleasure. He laid on you, kissed you and started to thrust. Slow and deeply. He kept the pace for a moment, stopped at a moment when he was at the deepest inside you. You both stared deep in each other eyes, and he went back at it. You were out of words, the feeling was too much. Gibbs was making love to you. He started to go faster, and faster until he felt you were getting close. So was he but there’s no was he was coming before you did.

“I’m gonna cum, J,” you let him know.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said. Gibbs was fucking you as fast as you could until he felt your body tensed against his, your pussy tighten around his cock, and you were telling how much you were loving it, how good he was. That feeling and your words made him cum too. He whispered your name as he came inside of you.

Gibbs stayed for a moment on top of you, both of you catching your breath. He looked at you for a moment, before kissing you. He slid off you and lay to your side. You moved to rest your head on his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat. “Don’t want this to stay in Mexico,” you said.

“Me neither,” he answered.

You and Gibbs were in a such a happy state, you almost fell asleep naked on the beach.

#agent gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs imagine #gibbs #ncis reader insert #ncis imagines #ncis fiction

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fickle-tiction · 4 years ago

Text

Gotham’s Ticklish Prince

This started out as a headcanon, and then it spiraled out of control. You’re welcome.

One day Bruce Wayne makes headlines. This isn’t surprising, or even noteworthy. He’s always making headlines for some silly nonsense he does as Bruce, to draw attention away from Batman. What is surprising is when he walks into the Hall of Justice and sees his face smiling back at him from about 10 different magazines strewn all over the meeting table.

Specifically, he sees himself curling inwards, eyes crinkled, nose scrunched, mouth stretched into a wide surprised smile as Mike, his date to last night’s gala, stands behind him. Thankfully, Mike’s hands are out of frame so no one can tell from the picture that he’s squeezing Bruce’s sides from behind.

“Oh look.” Arthur says, coming out of nowhere with a shit eating grin on his face. “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince decided to show his face.”

If Bruce didn’t have years of training and self discipline under his belt he would have flushed.

A Different magazine comes flying at him and smacks him in the stomach before he can even blink. Bruce catches it on reflex and looks down, only to be met with the headline “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince Has A New Squeeze” and, to his internal horror, it shows a picture snapped about two seconds after the first one. Bruce is clearly laughing in delight as Mike squeezes his sides, in full view of the camera. Several smaller pictures are beneath it, catching Bruce as he latches onto Mikes hands, turns and leans in close to tell him to stop. He didn’t have to flip to page 4, where the story apparently continued, to know what other pictures they surely got. Mike hadn’t stopped after one squeeze, and Bruce was too into character, and for once too unaware of any paparazzo nearby, to make him stop.

He knew he should have skipped the gala last night. Getting only 3 hours of sleep over the course of 4 nights and then slipping into his Bruce persona was always risky. Normally the two whiskies he had wouldn’t affect him at all, but the exhaustion plus the fact that he liked this Mike guy and was feeling comfortable and loose, clearly created a perfect storm. He remembered Mike sneaking up on him, he remember his guard being down just enough for it to catch him unawares and cause a reaction. He remembered how good it felt, but he won’t be letting himself go there. No. No thank you.

What he didn’t remember was the paparazzi being right there.

Or what would happen when those pictures surfaced at HQ.

Bruce finally looked up from the front cover of the Gotham Globe and was met with identical smirks from Arthur and Clark. Well, that explained the newspaper smacking him in the stomach earlier.

“It’s a character.” Bruce said, voice flat as he tossed the magazine onto the conference table. It wouldn’t help his situation if he tried to throw it out or look like he was hiding something.

“Right.” Clark didn’t sound like he was buying it at all. “So you knew you were being recorded. That’s why you put on such a convincing act.”

Recorded?

Recorded?!

Again, Bruce didn’t outwardly react at the news, but inside he was curling into a ball, ready to wither and die at any second. They fucking got that on video?

Naturally, the huge screen on the wall clicks on at the moment, showing a video of Bruce doing something on his phone. He had actually been playing some asinine game as he waited for Mike to come back from the bathroom. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be caught doing anything more than slicing up fruit on his phone, after all.

“I see Victor’s here.” Bruce says dryly, as though his eyes aren’t glued to the screen. His face remains impassive, but inside he’s once again screaming for his past self to turn around as Mike comes into frame behind him. He’s so busy watching Mike smirk and start sneaking up behind him (and, really, how did he not notice this last night? The guy is being so damn obvious about it.) that he doesn’t notice Clark and Arthur inching closer to him on either side.

Bruce feels a hand latch onto either of his sides just as Mike reaches forward and does the same on camera. Thankfully, Bruce’s guard has been up since he first saw his goofy face smiling back at himself when he walked into the room, so he does nothing more than cock an eyebrow and look at first Arthur, and then Clark.

“It’s a character.” He repeats, ignoring the staccato squeezing at one of his worst spots.

“I’m not going to react like he does, even though this tickles like hell. Bruce Wayne is an airheaded goof ball. Batman might be ticklish, but he doesn’t let it show--what the fuck?!” Bruce looked down to see a glittering gold rope wrapped innocently around his ankle. “Diana! What the hell?! I’m going to--” He cut off, clamping his mouth shut as he felt words trying to spill out. Words he most definitely did not want to say in the present company.

“Going to what, Brucie?” Diana asked, smirking as she held the lasso of truth in her hand. Bruce glared daggers at her, lips clamped tightly even as the squeezing on his sides turned to wiggling fingers and, to his horror, he felt his resolve breaking.

“I’m--” Bruce huffed, biting his lower lip to keep from both speaking and laughing. “--I’m going--” His mouth was trying to curve into a smile, but Bruce was nothing if not stubborn and refused to let it happen.

“We’ve almost got him.” Arthur smirked, venturing a little lower and pinching just above Bruce’s hipbone.

Clark noticed the jolt that caused and immediately followed suit on his side.

“I’m-Going-To-Pretend-To-Hate-all-of-you-to-keep-up-my-image.” Bruce was forced to say, as he finally caved and latched onto Arthur and Clark’s hands. Not that it did him any good. He might be The Batman, but outside of his suit he didn’t stand a chance against Superman, Aquaman and Wonder Woman, if she decided to get more hands on.

“You don’t actually hate it, do you.” Clark marveled, giving that spot above his hipbone another gentle pinch. Thank God for his super hearing, because without it he probably would have missed the squeak Bruce let out.

“I-” Again, Bruce was trying to clamp his mouth shut, but it wasn’t very effective since his mouth was stretched into a wide grin. “I have an image to maintain!” It was supposed to come out as a growl, but instead it sounded more like a whine as Bruce’s dam broke and laughter started pouring out of him.

“Well, if you’re trying to maintain the Ticklish Prince of Gotham image, you’re doing a fantastic job.” Arthur mocked him, now fluttering his fingers up and down Bruce’s side rapidly.

Bruce was lost to the laughter, something that hasn’t happened to him since he was a kid. He began backing up, trying to back away from the tickling fingers flying furiously up and down both sides of his body. Absently, he noted that Diana must have let him go because he didn’t trip over the lasso as he tried to get away. He did, however, back himself into the wall without realizing it since his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to contain the wild laughter pouring out of him.

“Fahahahack!” Bruce cursed himself as Clark and Arthur boxed him in, each still tickling away. Clark was now experimenting with Bruce’s stomach while Arthur, the bastard, was worming his way under Bruce’s arm.

They let him try to defend himself for a minute, wordlessly taunting him as they both danced around his arms with half-hearted attempts to get at his armpits. Finally, Arthur spoke up. “Clark, do you mind doing something about these?” He asked, tracing his fingertips gently up and down Bruce’s forearms. Bruce was well and truly gone if even that tickled like hell.

“Wha-” Bruce asked, laughter starting to die down as he got a short break. He cracked his eyes open, realizing for the first time he had been hunched in on himself, arms clamped down tightly, trying to protect as much of his sides as he could.

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure.” Clark grinned. Lightening fast, he grabbed up Bruce’s wrists in one strong hand and pinned them to the wall above his head. Bruce’s eyes widened comically, too far gone to have any hope of controlling his facial features.

“Hey now.” He said, voice breathy as caught his breath. “You’ve had your fun.” Instead of the gravely voice they’d come to expect, Bruce’s voice was closer to that of his alter ego Bruce Wayne’s now. Nearly high pitched, and just short of panicky as he flexed his arms against the steel grip they were in.

“Tell me Bruce,” Arthur started, fingers slowly crawling up his ribs towards their destination. Bruce’s nerves immediately jumped to attention because they were already so worked up. “Are your armpits ticklish?”

Bruce tried to glare at him, even as his muscles twitched beneath Arthur’s fingers and his mouth started curving into another grin.

“Diana left.” Clark added, grinning at the man he had pinned to the wall. “And she took her lasso with her. I guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves.”

“Fuck.” Was the last coherent thing Bruce said for quite a while.

When Clark and Arthur finally let him go, he slumps to the floor in an exhausted heap and marvels at the last time he laughed that much (The answer: never.) or the last time he felt this exhausted without getting his ass whooped, or whooping someone else’s.

Once he’s regained some of his dignity, Bruce goes to the security feed with the intention of deleting the last hour of footage. He surprised to find it’s already gone, the tapes spliced seamlessly, with only a minor blip to show anything is missing.

Victor, naturally, saved the entire thing to his personal servers. Just in case.

#ticklish!batman #ticklish!brucewayne #tickling #fanfiction #tickling fanfiction #ticklish!dcu #superman #aquaman #batman #wonder woman #cyborg

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troop-scoop · 4 years ago

Text

Youth II

Chapter Two - Common Interest

Word count: 2.9k

Series Summary: On a family trip to your dad’s home town of Hawkins, Indiana, you make a series of decisions that result in you ending up in the year 1983 with more questions than there are answers presently available.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader ( slow burn )

Chapter Summary: With the disappearance of Will Byers, you lend a helping hand to try an find the missing 12 year old boy.

A/n: forgive me for posting a second chapter on the same day as the first. I just need to get this one out before I lose my mind.

⟛⟛

You’d spent plenty of time staring off into space with your thoughts racing, you’d done it plenty at school, but this wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right and you hated it. Sure, you had plenty of odd experiences growing up, things you used to think were normal for other people, but apparently, they weren’t. And when you’d realized that, you kept them to yourself. But this wasn’t just something you were seeing, this was real, and you knew it, and everything else paled in comparison to this level of oddness.

Why was it always small towns? When you hear about missing people or cold cases that seem to throw police and detectives for a loop it always took place in small towns, quiet ones that people described as great to raise your kids in, places people settled down in to get away from the big cities.

When you’d been getting things together to leave for the day, you’d briefly heard about a missing kid, but hadn’t heard the name before you were slamming the motel door behind you to get to school, hopping down the walkway to the stairs trying to get your shoes on.

It wasn’t right, you would have known about this. Wouldn’t you? Sure, your dad never really talked much about his home town unless it was fond memories with his childhood friends, your uncles, but this was huge, something that should have at least been mentioned.

You had zoned out of the conversation happening next to you, ignoring every detail about the party Steve was throwing that night. You’d already declined on going to, much to both Steve and Carol’s disappointment. Carol mentioned how she was desperate to have another girl in their friend group, while Steve didn’t have much to say, just saying to come with him to find Nancy Wheeler.

“Oh, God, that’s depressing.”

Steve’s tone wasn’t what you would consider empathetic, it was rather that of someone who didn’t want to see what was happening.

Tommy, Barbara, Nancy, Steve, and Carol all looked to the subject of your staring, their eyes all landing on Jonathan Byers using a thumbtack to put a missing person flyer on the bulletin board near the front office.

“Should we say something?” Nancy questioned.

“I don’t think he speaks.”

“How much you want to bet he killed him?” At that, you turned your head and glared at Tommy, as Steve hit his chest a friendly yet serious “Shut up.” being said before you turned back to look at Jonathan.

Nancy walked towards him, leaving the rest of you to stand and wait. The only real thing you could think about was how when you were 11, you had been with your parents, uncle, aunt and cousins, helping your uncle and aunt pack things to move to a new house, and when you’d been left alone, you’d found a box full of old things and you’d dug through it, curiosity getting the best of you. You’d gotten to an old yearbook, labeled ‘1984-1985.’ and before you could ever flip through half of it, your uncle had snatched it away from you, and without saying a word, he’d grabbed the box and left the room.

“You alright?” Barabara asked you, reaching out to hold your shoulder, it brought the other three’s attention to you as well. You didn’t really know Barbara, but you knew she had good grades, and sometimes tutored students in the library after school.

“Yeah, peachy.” was your response, turning your attention back to the conversation Nancy was having with Jonathan, everything being said completely unknown to all of you with the distance.

The bell rang, and students began to frantically move, like cockroaches when you turned a light on. Scattering as quick as they could, but Barabara kept a hand on your shoulder, and in your peripheral vision you could make out her concerned look. Watching as Nancy came back over to the group of students Barbara took her hand off of your shoulder, everyone turning to walk down the hall once Nancy was there. But you were stalling, taking slow uneasy steps, barely keeping your eyes off of Jonathan, but when you knew that the group of students wouldn’t notice you weren’t with them, you turned back around, to see Jonathan heading for the doors.

“Jonathan!” You called out, jogging after him, seeing him stop just as he reached the metal and glass door. Catching up you placed your hands on your hips, trying to think of what to say. “Where we going?”

“What?” Jonathan questioned, brows furrowed as he looked at you, both his hands on the push bar of the door.

“Where we going? Wanna hear it French? Ou Allons nous?”

“We are not going anywhere. You have to go to. . .” Jonathan looked at the small notebook you held between two fingers, reading the angry red scribble on the front that said ‘Math’ “Mr. Swann’s?”

You breathed out through your nose, dropping your notebook. “Not anymore. Where are we going? This is about your brother, right? I wanna help.”

Jonathan sighed a bit, looking down at the linoleum floor before back up at you. “Why?”

“Common interest.” You told him.

“Our English project doesn’t have anything to do with-”

“This isn’t about Romeo and Juliet, moron. This is about your brother. Listen I just. . . everything about this, makes my stomach churn, I need to see him come back home alive. See? Common interest.”

Jonathan gave an absent-minded nod, the look on his face telling you he knew that feeling. “Indianapolis.” He told you, opening the door and barely stepping out, with you hot on his heels. But he stopped suddenly, turning back to you, holding a finger up. “But you stay out of it, Lonnie isn’t too friendly, and I've seen him angry. If I tell you to go back to the car, you go, understand?”

“You’re not my dad, if I see things start going south, I’m getting both of us out of there.” You told him. “Teamwork makes the dream work, now go before I stomp on your shoes, and there’s no guarantee that I won’t give you a flat tire on the way to the car.”

⟛⟛

Sitting in the passenger seat, you looked to the radio, eyes on the station number as the familiar intro to a song began on the radio. The first time you remembered hearing the song, you were four and had woken up from a nap to the smell of macaroni and cheese, and the sound of your newborn baby brother sneezing in his sleep in the crib on the other side of the room. The music was being played from the living room stereo, loudly. But one thing about being raised by your dads was that you had to adapt to loud music being played. Even Daniel had adapted to it at a few weeks old. You’d gotten out of bed and gotten to the living room, where the stereo was on, and your dad in the kitchen, putting some of the macaroni in one of your bowls and one of his own.

The last time you remembered listening to that song was when your cousins had convinced you to go with them into town, Torrey being the one with the idea, and with her speaker, playing a random playlist. You remembered that she skipped the song halfway through.

Torrey never had a good track record, that was for sure, she was always in trouble, much to your uncle Mike’s dismay. But you and James were always the more reasonable ones out of all of you. But Torrey was the oldest, and as a result, like the older sister, and everyone wanted to be like their cool older sister. So whatever she suggested the lot of you do, you did it.

That always resulted in trouble. The only one who could ever reason with all of you was Uncle Dustin, of course, it had to be the uncle who didn’t have kids. It annoyed Mike, Lucas, and your dad to no end that when with Torrey, they couldn’t get through to any of you.

But, Torrey wasn’t technically your oldest cousin. No, that was Rob. Your uncle’s oldest son. But he was a bit over a decade older than you, so you didn’t really know him all too well. Torrey was almost a decade older, just short two years.

“This the place?” you asked, looking past Jonathan trying to see through the foggy window, rain pouring down onto the pavement outside, and tapping gently on the windows and roof of the car. The fogged-up window told you it was cold out there, and warmer inside.

“Yeah. . .”

“Lonnie’s. . . Who is Lonnie, exactly?” You questioned, unbuckling the seatbelt as Jonathan did the same.

“Our dad,” Jonathan answered, opening his car door and getting out. You reached into the backseat, grabbing your coat as a sudden and startling cool gust of wind hit you, sending goosebumps up your neck and arms. Jumping a bit you looked to the door, seeing that Jonathan had gotten it for you. “Come on.” he rushed you.

You didn’t know if you wanted to go up to the house that the teenage boy was eyeing, you knew that if you’d never heard about Lonnie before, it was for a reason. Likely a good one.

Stepping out of the car, you pulled your jacket on just as Jonathan closed the passenger door for you, heading to the run-down home across the street. You followed shortly after, feeling your ankles begin to get wet as drops of rain-soaked through the canvas material of your shoes.

Standing under the overhang of the front porch you watched as Jonathan looked through the glass of the front door, music from either a television or stereo being hear from outside, over the rain. Jonathan knocked on the door. “Hello?” He shouted.

“Maybe he’s not home?”

Jonathan gave a bitter scoff as he continued to bang on the door insistently before you heard a woman’s voice yell out something indistinct. And before you could process it, the front door was opened.

“Can I help you?” She demanded.

“Yeah, is Lonnie around?” Jonathan asked, his body language giving off just as much attitude as her but his voice remaining calm.

“Yeah, he’s out back. What do you want?”

“To look around.” and with that, Jonathan stepped past her into the house, with you following right behind.

The living area had warm lighting from the lamps, with the absence of an overhead light. And the tv that was small by your standards had M.TV on. It was a mess, with things seemingly tossed around, it felt like the beginning of a hoarder’s home before it got worse and it was filmed for a stupid television show.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Hey!” The woman yelled after the two of you. You were hot on Jonathan’s heels, keeping in mind what he said about his father. You’d rather stick close.

“We’ll be fast, promise!” you told her.

“Hey, Will?” Jonathan questioned, going down the hallway, looking into doorways, calling out his younger brother’s name in a more urgent tone while you gave a longer look into each room.

Jonathan turned around from the last room, shaking his head and looking at you, going to walk back out of the hall. But just as he came to the end, a man slammed Jonathan against the wall, holding the collar of his sherpa jean jacket. You jumped back, just before Jonathan shoved who you were now assuming was Lonnie. “Get off!”

“Damn, you’ve gotten stronger.” The older man gave a shove to Jonathan’s shoulder, looking past the two males you saw the woman from the front door.

“Will someone please explain what the hell is going on?”

Lonnie looked at her, then back at Jonathan and then to you, before doing the opposite. “Jonathan, Cynthia. Cynthia this is Jonathan. My oldest. I don’t know who this little lady is.”

Lonnie shoved Jonathan’s shoulder again before pulling him into a hug. “Get off me, man.” Jonathan pushed him off.

The look on Lonnie’s face was that of pure cluelessness as if he didn’t understand why Jonathan would shove him away like that. But with how Jonathan had briefly spoken about him and how he had just acted, you knew the relationship wasn’t what you’d expect of a father and son.

Lonnie turned his gaze to you, “Who’s she?” He asked, looking to Jonathan again.

“A friend,” you responded. Sure, you and Jonathan weren’t all that close, but in this situation, you were sure he needed one, and even if you weren’t technically ‘friends’ he would know he had someone in his corner. “We’re looking for Will.”

“I already talked to the cops. He’s not here and he never has been.”

“Right, well, I think everyone gets a little nervous when they see and talk to cops, if Will’s here I doubt he would have come out when police were here.”

Lonnie looked as though he was trying to process what you had said. “If it makes you two feel better you can look around.”

“Hm, gladly,” you responded.

Jonathan and you spent a few moments in the rundown house, and once the rain had let up, Jonathan went outside, with you and Lonnie both trailing behind.

“Take a look at this beaut. Should’ve seen it when I got it. Took me a year, but it’s almost done.” Lonnie spoke about the car Jonathan was headed toward, opening the trunk once he reached the back. “Really? Do you want to check up my ass, too? I told you the same thing I told those cops, he’s not here and he never has been.”

“Then why didn’t you call Mom back?”

“I don’t know, I just. . . I assumed she forgot where he was. You know, he was lost or something. That boy was never very good at taking care of himself.”

“This isn’t some joke, all right? There are search parties, reporters. . .”

The way Lonnie was treating the situation made you uncomfortable. He didn’t care. It was clear he didn’t with the new information that Jonathan’s mother had called him, and he never answered or called back, how he lived a two-hour drive away and seemed to be talking about anything else but Will.

“Hopper’s not still chief, is he? Tell your mother she’s gotta get you out of that hellhole. Come out here to the city. People are more real here, you know? And then I could see you more.”

“If you wanted to see them more you wouldn’t have made the choice to live so far away.” You interrupted. You knew full well that had your parents ever split in an ugly way like it seemed Lonnie and Joyce had, neither of your fathers would move so far away that it felt like two different worlds. They’d stay close together so both you and your brother still had both of them. “Sounds like shitty parenting on your part, not her’s.”

Lonnie looked at you and tilted his head. “What? You think I don’t want to see my boys?”

“It’s kinda obvious that you don’t.” You responded, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Has Jonathan let you be around his mother? Because you sound just like her. Speaking of her, does she even know you’re here?” Lonnie turned back to Jonathan. You didn’t even know the answer to that, but Jonathan’s silence was an answer. “Great. So one kid goes missing, the other one runs wild? Some real fine parenting right there. Look, all I’m saying is, maybe I’m not the asshole, all right?”

Though Lonie couldn’t see it, you were glaring at him, but Jonathan could, and he gave you a look before reaching into his shoulder bag, pulling out a poster. A copy of the one he’d put up at school. “In case you forgot what he looks like,” Jonathan grumbled, shoving the poster into Lonnie’s chest as he walked away. Gesturing for you to follow.

The two of you walked around the house instead of through it, with small water droplets coming down once again as you crossed the street to the car.

“He’s a prick.” You mumbled as you passed Jonathan to get to the passenger side. Jonathan stared at you for a second.

“Y/n.”

You had grabbed onto the handle of the car door when he said your name, catching your attention. “Yeah?”

“Why do you care? You’re new in Hawkins, you’ve only been there for a few months, and you care about this more than people who have known me and Will since were kids. You’ve never even seen Will.”

You looked down at the pavement beneath you. The smell of rain invading your nose, calming you down just a bit. “Common interest.” You repeated what you had said before.

He didn’t look convinced with how his face seemed to harden and become far more serious. “Look,” You started, letting go of the handle resting your hands on the roof of the car. “Will’s alive, he has to be. I know he is. If I told you how I know, you’d call me crazy. I care about you, your brother and your mom. Lonnie? Not so much. . . Just. . . trust me, okay?”

Jonathan didn’t say anything or even do anything else in response. He opened the driver’s door and got in his seat, tossing his bag into the back as you did the same, buckling yourself in and looking out the window.

⟛⟛

Add yourself to the taglist!

@stonersteve @ilovebucketbarnes

#steve x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction

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infernwetrust · 4 years ago

Text

Hands On [Michael Langdon x Jim Mason x Fem Reader] Pt 1.

Summary: The one where you attempt to teach Michael how to use his hands rather than his powers, but things get a little out of hand.

Warnings: some smut, mentions of smut, swearing, some violence, fluff, emotional, brief mention of drug use

WC: 4.0k

A/N: The next chapter is allllll smut up until about the end. This one came to me randomly today and I had to get my ideas down before I lost them forever. Part 1 of a 2 part series. Thank you for reading! -Juno

He stood there in his boxing gear that you had got him the same time you had got yours. He watched as you effortlessly took jabs at the punching bag he had gotten you for Christmas last year, not all really interested in your technique more than how invested he was in your body. The way your training bra fit you perfectly. The way your shorts pointed out all your features. You glistened as the sweat rolled off your body.

You've been doing this with him for the past 2 weeks after months of trying to convince him. The two of you had to talk it over. You let him know that sometimes he didn't always have to snap someone's neck when he was angry. Aside from being the fucking anti-christ, you wanted him to have a normal life as much as possible. You wanted to give him the things he never had when he was younger and of course he was grateful for that. And while snapping their necks was his favorite thing to do, he let his guard down and allowed for you to teach him how to box.

"Okay." you said, taking a moment to pause and catch your breath. "Ready to show me what we've been working on?"

"Remind me as to why I can't just continue to use my magic?" Michael questioned, using his glove to scratch the back of his head.

"Because I'm going to show you how much fun it is to be more hands on."

"It's messy, Y/N. You know I never like to be messy when it comes to my work. I don't like to leave evidence behind."

"But you're sooooo good at it."

And he was. A quick learner, he too, was damn near flawless in front of this punching bag. It was an outlet for all the anger he's been keeping in since he was small and when he got into it, he was really into it. He would go for hours and hours on end and you'd had to do some strong convincing for him to stop and come have dinner. He thought of everything he went through growing up, letting the energy flow through him.

"Plus it'll be your exercise for the day." you added.

"I already get that in the bedroom every other night, my love." he retorted, giving you a smirk.

"Haha. Very funny, Michael."

"But if you insist, so I shall."

He took a deep breath, stepping in front of the punching bag, peering around it to stare at his and your other partner, Jim, who also liked to box, but his fighting style was more MMA. He loved to use both his hands and feet whether he was just sparing or actually fighting. He watched the boy, who was sweating profusely, jab after jab after jab on his new punching bag that you had bought him, his very first birthday he spent with the two of you instead of his sister. Michael loved to watch the two of you pursue a common hobby. He loved how tight Jim kept his boxing shorts. He was on full display and Michael eye's always drifted across his body, especially the bulge between his legs. When Jim got in front of his punching bag, everyone in the room disappeared. He zoned completely out. It was just him, his kicks and punches, and most importantly, his music. You and Michael warn him every time that he isn't going to be able to hear when he gets into his 50s, but Jim's always been hard headed.

You were already married to Michael for 2 years when the two of you found Jim, but he didn't care, he still loves the both of you the same. It's been a year since then. All 3 of you met at a bar, Michael pointing him out to you. He was shy at first and reserved, but a few drinks loosened him up and he was telling the two of you everything. You learned about his parents divorce, his substance abuse, his anger, and fear of abandonment over the course of a 2 week period and why he left Palos Verdes and moved to LA. Michael was the first to fall for Jim and he fell hard, you following shortly behind. Behind all his anger, he was so sweet, so caring, and so passionate. He made love to you and Michael and was rough when he needed to be, but he preferred to be gentle. Him and Michael occasionally exchanged roles in the bedroom. Jim's favorite after a long day of surfing was having Michael ride him while you sit on his face, the two of you making out above him. Or when you would come home after an extremely stressful day of work, venting to the both of them, Jim and Michael both would take turns loving you, filling you up until you felt like you had enough. This was followed by cuddles and kisses all night long until Jim fell asleep, Michael already sleeping like a baby. Or the nights when Jim would hear Michael yelling at one of his cooperative members either over the phone or video call, and especially the meetings he had in house. The in house ones Jim loved. Michael would be furious, storming into the bedroom to Jim sitting in the middle of their California king, shirtless, in those soft blue boxers Michael adored, reading a comic book. Jim would instantly look up, his soft eyes, meeting Michael's hard gaze and he'd shoot him a reassuring smile before motioning him to come here. Jim would give Michael whatever he wanted and a sucker for his boy, Michael was gentle.

Jim was always overwhelmed with excitement when Michael let him know that he was the full dom for the night. He'd absolutely destroy you and Michael, loving hearing the screams of his name come off your lips, especially. Whether it was you begging for him not to stop, or Michael desperately begging to be choked harder, Jim out performed himself every time.

There was nothing you enjoyed more than watching your two men together. When you come home from work to find them cuddled up on the couch, just laughing at random things or when they're both cooking and snap their heads up at the same time once they hear your voice. It's both of them being able to be the voice of reason for different situations. It's Michael arguing with Jim over the small stuff. It's Jim purposefully fucking up Michael's work, so that he would give the two of you some attention. Everyday the both of them never fail to remind you why you love them so much.

"Actually." Michael said, holding onto the punching bag in front of him. "I want to spar with Jim."

"You really think Jim is going to let you spar with him?" you questioned. "He doesn't play spar like we do, Michael. He wouldn't even spar with me, experienced as I am." Feeling pairs of eyes on him, Jim looked up, still punching, glancing between the two of you. He stopped, holding onto the punching bag until it stilled.

"What?" he questioned, taking his one of his ear buds.

"Michael wants to spar with you."

"No." Jim immediately said, running his hands through his drenched hair, walking over to one of the shelves for his water bottle. "2 weeks with you and only has ever done MMA once with me when you were sick. I won't even spare with you, Y/N, let alone the inexperienced."

"That almost hurts my feelings." Michael said, giving his best pouty face. He walked over to Jim, leaning against his punching bag as he watched him gulp his water down.

"Told you." you said, glancing between the two of them.

"Come on, Jim Jam." Michael said, playfully taking a jab at him, which Jim dodged of course, still drinking from his water bottle.

"No, Michael."

"You're wasting your time, Mike. He's not going to lay his hands on you." Michael took another jab at Jim, this time, causing him to drop his water bottle on the floor.

"Michael, come on, seriously. I don't want to hurt you. I don't "play" spar. If I start throwing punches, I'm going to throw them like I'm in the ring."

"Let's get in the ring then. That's what I renovated this house for. Got that brand new ring in the middle of our gym, just for you and Y/N. Put it to use, yes?"

"I have been using it. A couple buddies come over every other weekend, but you're too caught up in your cooperative bullshit to come socialize. They are the only ones I spar with."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I don't want to hurt you. That is my only reason. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish up here. You might be the anti-christ, but you're still human."

"Plus.." he continued, mumbling. "I can't fuck up that pretty face of yours."

"Sweet." Michael said, grinning. "But I'll let you know if you're hurting me. Don't I always?"

"Michael." Jim groaned. "Why do you never take no for an answer?"

"This man hasn't been told no for most of his life."

"So spoiled." Jim sighed, popping his ear buds back in, cracking his knuckles to return back to his objective. He pulled his fist all the way back and was about to strike, when Michael appeared directly in front of him, causing him to halt immediately.

"For fuck sakes."

"Spar with me."

"NO. Now MOVE." Michael appeared behind Jim, giving him a jab in his back.

"Spar with me." You watched amused, folding your arms over your chest, wanting to see exactly how this would play out.

"Michael, I swear-," Another jab connected with Jim's side. "Fucker."

"Spar with me." Jim turned around to glare at Michael who had that stupid grin on his face again. Without even thinking and completely catching Michael off guard, Jim picked him up by the back of his thighs, Michael naturally wrapping them around his waist. He was a dom that wasn't afraid to be a sub for his babies. And then Jim slammed him down to the mat in front of him, knocking all the wind out of him, Michael grunting loud as his back hit the floor. He coughed vigorously as Jim hovered over him, jaw clenched in a semi-angry gaze.

"Jim!" you yelped.

"Safe word." Jim said, jaw clenched tighter.

"Safe word for what-,"

"Safe word!" Jim barked at him. Michael cocked his head to the side, confused. And while the safe word was normally used for sexual connotation, Jim had started using them for when his spars got over the limit serious.

"Hands..." Michael said. Jim quickly hopped off of him, grabbing his hand and yanking him up off the mat. What was special about the ring that Michael got installed in the house was that he got special gloves made for them as well and all for Jim. When Jim wasn't on the beach surfing, he was always practicing and learning how to defend himself. These gloves were only activated once you stepped in the side the ring. They were designed to register critical hits to the body, thus administering points on an electronic score board.

"Change your gloves." Jim said, sounding agitated as he took his practice ones off to put on the special ones. "And get a mouth guard on."

"Jim you're really gonna-," you were gonna question him, but he cut you off.

"Daddy wants to spar right? So Jim is gonna spar with daddy." You grabbed him by his arm, pulling him closer to you to whisper in his ear while Michael got ready.

"He's no where near ready for something like that."

"He doesn't seem to care." Jim whispered back. "And you know Mike gets what he wants or he loses his mind." You sighed, resting your forehead against Jim's, feeling him lighten. "I most likely won't go overboard. I really can't bare to hurt him. You remember how I felt after I accidentally burnt him one time and now he wants me to put my hands on him."

"Just be careful please."

"I wish you two would stop worrying so much." he said.

"And I wish you would stop reading our thoughts."

"Habit." he chuckled, putting his long hair into a neat bun. "Come on Jim Jam." Michael stepped in the ring first, it immediately recognizing him.

Welcome, Michael.

Jim sighed, stepping in after him.

Welcome, Jim.

Jim walked over to Michael, wanting to convince him to change his mind because he knew once he got in the zone it would be hard for him to stop. He had a soft spot for the both of you.

"No I don't want to change my mind." Michael said as Jim approached him, but that didn't stop Jim from getting any closer. He grabbed Michael by the back of his neck, pressing his lips roughly against his in a heated kiss.

"I'm sorry..." Jim said, pulling away breathlessly. "If I do anything to hurt you." He touched gloves with Michael before returning to his corner. "Y/N, you know the drill." You got in the ring with the both of them, giving them the cue.

"Are you ready?" you asked Michael, him giving you a quick nod. You looked at Jim. "Are you ready." He gave you the same quick nod in return.

"Fight!" you said, throwing your arm up in the air and immediately getting out of the way. You watched as they both shuffled around, getting closer to each other. Michael started with baby jabs, jabs that Jim easily slapped away as the two continued to shuffle around. Jim noticed how quick Michael was on his feet and was going to have to change up his strategy. Michael knew better than to use his magic for an advantage. He wanted this to be fair. Jim took the first real jab, Michael softly grunting as it connected with his side. He backed away slightly from Jim, still shuffling on his feet, but Jim wasn't having it. The more Michael tried to back up, the closer Jim got.

"Remember to not let your opponent corner you." you reminded Michael, knowing that if Jim got him in that corner, it would be over. Michael quickly glanced over at you, Jim taking the opportunity to throw another punch, but Michael deflected that one, hitting Jim in his jaw with a counter, but Jim still didn't stand down. He wanted to box Michael in. Jim grabbed him, the two immediately entering a grapple, Jim's cheek pressed up against Michael's shoulder as he attempted to knee him on the side of his leg.

Michael attempted to switch positions, wanting Jim to be facing away from him, but still wrapped in his arms, but Jim knows that move all too well, so he went stiff as a board, not allowing Michael to move him. Instead, he swept Michael off his feet, slamming him to the ground, wanting to go for the submission early. He wrapped his leg around Michael's throat, pulling his arm all the way back, to the point where Michael thought his shoulder was going to rip out it's socket. Full of energy, he quickly broke that submission, now on his back, but Jim was quick, making his way on top of Michael.

Michael held his hands up, knowing to defend his face as the punches from Jim came. He could deflect them all day and as soon as he felt the energy change in Jim's body, kicked him in his chest so that he would stumble over, attempting a submission of his own. He had seen this one on tv. The triangle choke. He tried to grab of Jim's arms, but Jim scrambled to his feet and so did Michael.

"No one submits me." Jim said. "Ever."

"But you submitted to me last night in my office?" Michael questioned as he shuffled around in circles, forcing Jim to do the same. "My cock looked pretty good in the back of your throat." And that made Jim, angry. And before Michael knew it, Jim's foot had connected with the side of his thigh, making him lose his footing immediately, slamming down into the floor, giving Jim the opportunity to get back on top of him. The punches came too fast for Michael to block, so he flipped over onto his stomach instead, getting on his knees so that Jim would fall off of him. And when he got back up, Jim did too.

"Jim, calm down, remember who-," you began to say, but he had already tuned everything out. It was just him and Michael in the room now. Whack. Another kick came, but this time it was in Michael's side, completely knocking the wind out of him for the second time today. He screamed, falling to the ground, rolling around in pain, but that didn't stop Jim. That didn't signal the end of the match. He walked over to Michael, breathing hard, his tongue pressed up against his bottom lip as he focused on what he was about to do. He was going to do the triangle choke. He kneeled down beside Michael who was still groaning, in pain.

"Jim, stop!" you yelled. "I think he's actually." But Jim didn't seem to hear you. He grabbed Michael's arm, pulling it over his head, causing him to scream again, pain radiating all throughout his side. He wrapped his leg around Michael's neck and shoulder, placing his other leg around his opposite ankle. He squeezed. He squeezed his like his life depended on it, Michael's own arm and Jim's legs, now applying so much pressure to his neck, Michael got light headed. Jim knew he would have to tap or he would pass out in a matter of seconds. "Jim no!" You got in the ring, trying to get Jim off of Michael, but he was determined to get Michael to submit to him.

"Hands..." Michael said, barely above a whisper, so ever lightly tapping Jim's leg, causing Jim to immediately let him go, Michael choking on his own spit, gasping for air, in pain, due to his side. Jim stood up, throwing his gloves off, running out of the ring, hands in his hair as he stormed out of the room.

"Michael." you said, placing your hand on his chest, wanting him to stay still. "Calm down baby, breathe. In 3...2...1. Out 3...2...1."

"My side." he breathed out. You looked at it and the giant bruise waisted no time forming. Michael's eyes went black for a few moments, him scanning over his own body to make sure nothing was broken. He blinked a few times, his eyes returning back to that ocean blue. "This is going to suck for the next couple of days. Where's Jim?"

"He stormed off." you said, fighting back your own tears. "Why can't you just listen?! What if you got seriously hurt."

"Y/N, I'm fine." Michael said sternly.

"He said he didn't want to hurt you, but you made him anyways, Michael." Michael fell silent, knowing good and well that this was his fault. He sighed, groaning as he laid his head back down against the floor, holding onto his side.

In their bedroom, Jim was a teary-eyed mess as he paced back and forth, pulling at his own hair as his cheeks puffed in and out. He had hurt Michael. He knew he did and that's exactly what he didn't want to do. He heard his scream when he fell to the ground. He heard the tear of his muscle as he pulled his arm back over his head and he still didn't stop.

"Fuck." he said to himself as he peeled his shorts off, heading into their bathroom. Their shower, big enough to have a small party in, wall seats, he stepped into, making the water all the way hot. He stood under the water, rinsing the first layer of sweat off, letting his tears fully flow. Not wanting to hear himself cry, he turned on the shower stereo, blasting music as the water changed different colors due to the stereo lights. He rested his head against the shower wall, reaching for the bottle of shampoo when he heard the shower door open.

"Y/N.." he called out. "Is... is... is he okay?"

"No." a voice said, that wasn't yours. "But he will be." Jim bit down on his lip hard as the tears continued to flow.

"Michael I'm so sorry.. I didn't want to. I told you..."

"Sssh." Michael said, limping over to Jim who happened to be by one of the wall seats. He sat down, still holding onto his side. "I pushed you too far, Jim. You did nothing wrong, okay?" Jim looked over at Michael and noticed the large bruise that his so desperately tried to hide.

"I did that, didn't I?" Jim asked, getting riled up again.

"Jim, no, no. It's okay. I promise."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Michael. I- I- I- did that to you!"

"Accidents happen Jim! I know you didn't mean to. I provoked you. I will deal with the consequences of my actions."

"You know, you're not so easy to fucking deal with." Jim said, pacing back and forth in front of Michael.

"I know." Michael groaned as he shifted in his seat, getting some if the hot water on him. He moaned softly as the pulsating jets soothed a small amount of pain in his side "C'mere." Jim stepped directly in front of Michael, getting down on his knees to wedge his way in between his legs. "I appreciate the gesture, but I want you to sit next to me." He listened, carefully getting up as to not slip and fall and joined Michael. He placed his hand softly on Jim's thigh, rubbing it with his thumb.

"Do you know why I fell in love with you, Jim?" Michael asked, staring at his lover.

"No, honestly." Jim answered. "I'm just some fucked up kid from Palos Verdes."

"Jim Mason, don't you ever say that to me again."

"Well it's true."

"I fell in love with you because your soul is still so pure. You have a lot of heart Jim that goes beyond just loving Y/N and I. You're passionate about things. Don't look at this bruise as an attack on me. This is a remind that no one should ever fuck with Jim Mason, right?" Jim stayed silent, tears still running down his face, causing Michael to squeeze his thigh, probing for an answer. "Right?"

"Right." Jim said back, knowing that Michael doesn't like to wait for answers. He took his hand from Jim's thigh, patting his lap. "I don't wanna-,"

"I didn't ask you whether or not you wanted to hurt me. I asked you to sit in my lap." Jim, slowly made his way over to Michael's lap. Michael groaning as Jim sat back again him.

"I can get up." Jim said, but Michael firmly wrapped his arm around his waist.

"There's no need for that." Michael placed soft kisses along his back, causing Jim to shiver despite being warm from the water. "So precious. My Jim."

"Your Jim." Jim confirmed, causing Michael to smile against his back. "Please don't make me do that again."

"I won't." Michael grabbed Jim's throat, tilting his head back so that their blue eyes met each other's. "But what I will do, Jim Mason, is fuck you senseless in this shower." Jim whined, not only from the pressure his neck, but from the seriousness in Michael's voice and the feel of his growing erection against his bare ass. "You tease me all the time with those little MMA shorts you wear, so tight against your skin, basically begging for one of us to humiliate you."

"Are you guys really about to have fun without me?" you asked, pouting as you opened the shower door, immediately wet by the sight. Michael chuckled softly against Jim's neck, tongue gracing over his jugular, causing Jim's breathing to speed up.

"And look who has made it just in time. Do you still want to show me how fun it is to be hands on?"

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid

#cody fern #cody fern imagine #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon smut #jim mason #jim mason imagine #jim mason smut #jim mason x reader #michael langdon x reader #tribes of palos verdes #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #outpost michael

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 5 years ago

Note

81 and 82 + reddie for the smut prompts please darling? 💖✨

81 “We’re just friends” & 82 “Friends don’t do this kind of shit.”

Hey Di, sorry for the wait! I’m throwing both of these prompts together! You can also read it on AO3

NSFW

"Rich, you need to stop."

Richie jerked back, studying Eddie's face for any sign of discomfort. He was sure Eddie was enjoying the way Richie was kissing and biting his neck, if the little gasps he was letting out were any indication.

"You don't like that?"

"What?" Eddie asked, blinking his eyes into focus. For a moment he seemed genuinely confused that Richie wasn't kissing him anymore, then he snapped out of it and pulled Richie back in. "No, not that. I like that, keep doing that. I mean. You need to stop giving me those looks."

"What looks?" Richie asked, picking up where he left off and sucking a hickey on Eddie's throat. He let out a happy sigh.

"You know." He said, his fingers tangling in Richie's hair. "The 'I've seen you naked looks' you were giving me."

"But I've seen you naked, Eds." Richie replied with a smug smile, even if Eddie couldn't see it.

He gave a sharp tug to his curls. "Yes, but our friends don't know that." He said, giving them another tug just because he knew how much Richie liked it. "And we don't want them to find out, remember? Not yet."

Richie shrugged, he couldn't care less if their friends found out the truth, but Eddie insisted that they kept it quiet for now. Richie had to admit he enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, but he was also dying to tell everyone that Eddie and him were together and he wanted to give Eddie as many adoring, and yes, maybe a little sexy, looks as he pleased.

Richie didn't even realize he was looking at Eddie like that. He thought he was giving him friendly 'we haven't touched each other's dicks' looks while they watched a movie with their friends in Stan and Richie's dorm room. He thought the way Eddie was squirming in his seat was due to the horror movie Bev had picked. And when Eddie abruptly jumped to his feet, claiming he needed to get his special neck pillow from his room across the hall, Richie thought it was just an excuse to get a break from the movie.

Then Eddie grabbed his hand on the way out and dragged him through the door with him. Richie figured he didn't want to go alone and went willingly. He was surprised when Eddie pushed him against the door of the room he shared with Bill and proceeded to shove his tongue down Richie's throat. He recovered quickly, manhandling Eddie until he had him pressed against the desk and returning the kiss with matching intensity.

He was only realizing now that it was the look he gave Eddie, albeit unknowingly, that ended up with Eddie propped up on the desk with his legs wrapped around Richie's waist while he sucked on his neck. Why would Richie want to stop looking at him like that?

"So you don't want me to look at you?" He asked, biting down on Eddie's jaw and enjoying how it made his breath hitch. "Do you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you already?"

Eddie let out a snort. Richie jumped when his hand wiggled between them and squeezed the obvious tent in his pants. "I know just how hard it is." He whispered, his voice low and husky in a way that made Richie’s cock twitch against Eddie's hand.

Richie swallowed thickly when he squeezed again. "Ah! Eds gets off a good one."

"Hmm." Eddie hummed distractedly, using his other hand, still tangled in Richie's hair, to bring their lips together. "Now take off your pants so we can both get one off."

Richie let out a strangled laugh. "God you're perfect." He blurted out, giving him a surprisingly chaste kiss before unzipping his pants. Eddie gave him a fond smile while working on his own zipper.

They knew they were in a hurry, if they didn't go back to their friends soon they might come looking for them. So they didn't even bother to take off their pants completely, just enough so they could get their dicks out. They were both fully hard after a very intense make out session and some mild grinding. Eddie's dick was already leaking, wetness gathering at the tip. That alone made Richie forget about their limited time and drop to his knees, taking Eddie in his mouth.

"Fuck Richie!" He gasped, bringing his hand up to his mouth to bite on his knuckles. He kept the other one in Richie's hair to guide him up and down his length.

Richie hollowed his cheeks, drawing a choked whimper from Eddie. That sound went straight to his own dick and he took it in his hand, timing his strokes with the movements of his mouth.

He was ready to make Eddie come like this and jerk himself off after he came down his throat. He picked up the pace when Eddie's thighs started to shake, knowing he was close, but before he came, Eddie was pulling at his hair and shoulders, dragging Richie to his feet.

He stumbled into the space between Eddie's legs. "I want to kiss you." He groaned, arching up so he could lick into Richie's mouth. Their lips parted with a soft, wet sound. "I'm close, Rich."

"I've got you, baby." Richie said, going along with the change of plans. He let go of his dick to wrap his fingers around Eddie. He didn't have to miss the friction in his own dick for long, Eddie took over, his fingers expertly stroking Richie.

They weren't kissing anymore so much as panting into each other's mouths as they both neared the edge. "Rich, I'm gonna come." Eddie moaned. "My shirt- don't let it get on my- Oh my god!"

Eddie came with a loud moan. Richie, who somehow understood his broken words, managed to keep his come from getting on his shirt, like the thoughtful boyfriend he was.

He planted feather light kisses on the soft skin of Eddie's neck while he came down, keeping his come covered hand away from them and using the other one to tilt Eddie's head to the side.

"You're so fucking hot, Eds." He whispered into his ear and Eddie gave him a lazy smile in return.

"Are you close?" He asked Richie, picking up the pace with his hand the way he liked.

"Hmm." Richie let out a strangled sound and nodded, pushing his cock into Eddie's fist.

Eddie kissed him, sucking on his tongue and expertly twisting his wrist until Richie followed him over the edge, a broken 'Eddie' falling from his lips.

Richie dropped his head against Eddie's shoulder, trying to catch his breath. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you those looks anymore?" He pulled back to smile giddily at Eddie.

His lips twitched into a smile, then something else registered because he wrinkled his nose. "Right now all I want you to give me is a tissue. My hand is covered in come."

Richie threw his head back with a laugh. "I'm on it, babe." With his pants threatening to fall from his hips, he picked up a box of tissues from the floor, giving one to Eddie and using another to clean his own hand.

He had just tossed them both towards the trash can when they heard someone bang on the door, followed by the rattle of the doorknob. Richie barely had time to step in front of Eddie, still sitting on the desk with his dick out, before the door flung open.

He was facing in the opposite direction and he couldn't see the door, but he saw Eddie's mortified expression and he heard Bev shriek, which was enough to get the picture.

Then, "I fucking knew it." Stan said, and Richie thought he heard Ben mutter, "Is Richie wearing My Little Pony boxers?" He could've sworn it was Mike who answered him, but he didn't hear what he said.

Richie grimaced. "Fuck, is it all of them?" He asked Eddie.

He got his answer when Bill groaned, "Seriously? On my fucking desk?"

Which confirmed to Richie that it was all of their friends who had just walked in on them. So Richie did what he did best to lighten up awkward situations. He made a joke. "Don't worry Bill, we will use your bed next time."

Eddie slapped his arm and Richie instinctively moved back, before realizing his body was the only thing hiding Eddie's lower half from their friends. He looked over his shoulder at them, crowded next to the very open door.

"Do you guys mind closing that? Five people walking in on us is more than fucking enough." He muttered. "A bigger audience and I might start charging."

The door clicked shut and after a couple of very awkward moments, Bev cleared her throat, "So are you two dating?" She asked, completely casual, like she didn't just walk in on two of her friends after they had sex.

Richie wanted to laugh, this was fucking weird, but Eddie was giving him a warning look that made him change tactics. "What?" He asked, playing dumb. "No way, no. Eduardo and I- we're- just friends."

It sounded convincing to his own ears, but based on the way Eddie looked at him and mouthed 'seriously?' it probably wasn't.

Richie shrugged his shoulders to say 'well, what did you want me to say?'

Someone snorted- Stan? Mike?

"Friends don't do this kind of shit." Definitely Stan.

He tried again. "Just because you and I don't do it Stanothy, it doesn't mean that-"

"Rich." Eddie interrupted, the first time he spoke since getting walked in on. He gave Richie a little shake of his head that told him that yeah, they got caught and they couldn't lie their way out of this, but his mouth was curled up in a way that told Richie that maybe Eddie didn't mind that much.

Richie felt his face break into a grin. He never intended for them to get caught, honestly. But he was glad they did, because now he could do this- press his lips against Eddie's while their friends watched.

"Does that answer your question, Bev?" Richie asked, kissing him again just because he could. He heard Bev giggle. "Now, can my boyfriend and I get a little privacy or do you want me to turn around and show you why everyone calls me Big Dick Tozier?"

"Literally no one calls you that." Stan said, probably while rolling his eyes.

Richie ignored him. "One." He counted out loud. "Two." But he never got to three. He heard the door open, shuffling footsteps and Bill say, "I'm going to burn that desk," before it shut again.

Eddie sighed loudly. "Guess the cat is out of the bag."

Richie snickered, tipping his head to look down at them, at their undone pants. "More like- the dick is out of the bag."

Eddie scrunched up his nose, but despite himself, he laughed. Loud and happy, right before he pulled Richie in to give him another kiss.

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @losers-gotta-stick-together @tinyarmedtrex @richiefuckfacetozier @sam-i-am2468 @stylesmelon @s-s-georgie @thelazyeye @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @hammockrichie@jesuschristsupruvestar @reddie4diaster @purplepoisonedgem @pan-ini @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @trashmouthnick @multi-fandom-wby @wheezyeds @nancynwheeler @madi-personal @reddie-tozibrak @that-weird-girls-blog @appojoos @castielwinovak @twoidiotsinl0ve @rebecca-the-queen @juhavs @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @soooobr @purebloodqueen @call-me-bread @wickedlyweasley @derpyanimatesstuff @braverthanyathink @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @typewrxter

#reddie #two idiots trying to keep their relationship a secret #and failing #notsfw #monse writes #di tag

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irwinkitten · 5 years ago

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a bet’s a bet | poly!cashton

notes: so, been apart of the collab writers event for this and it was so much fun! it was also the most difficult damn thing to write lmao. but i had fun and this is the tiresome result! (it would’ve been a meagre 133 words however, with the help of @softbabiestan, @spicycal and @sexgodashton, the fic really pulled together. thank u babies for helping me.) warnings: none word count: 3.6k

prompt line: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing, I almost never do.”

find every piece of the writers collab event here

donate to my ko-fi

It was only years of friendship with Luke that stopped you from walking back out of the room, a scowl set upon your features.

“You want me to... what?” The last word was hissed dangerously and you felt a slim tug of satisfaction as the baby blue eyes widened, fear prominent as he backtracked over his words, trying to appease the anger he’d clearly ignited.

“Just, let me get you out on a date!” The words were hasty and Luke froze before groaning, his fingers running through his blonde curls before he turned his pleading eyes to you.

“What, go out on a date with you? Luke, I’m confused.” Your words made him pause for a second before rolling his eyes with a huff.

“You know I don’t share. Neither does Sierra. No, what I meant to say was let me set you up on a date. Just one, and then I’ll let it go.” The plea gave you a moment to think, eyeing him carefully as you thought over his words.

“Why?”

“Because you’re shutting everyone out.” Luke snapped, taking in a steadying breath. “Wait—it’s not that you’re shutting everyone out, but you’re not giving yourself a chance. Every person you’ve gone on a date with has burned you ruthlessly and if you keep this up, you’ll give up entirely. I know you. I know that giving up on something like the chance to be loved would hurt you. Badly. I can’t see you break your own heart like that.” His words were quieter as his hand had reached out to take yours.

You couldn’t fault Luke for his worry. You’d pulled away, unwilling to go out on nights out to see everyone coupled up, leaving you the odd person out. It stung and Luke truly knew you far too well.

“You promise that you won’t hurt me?” A small part in your mind hated how small, unsure you sounded. But after being hurt so many times, you were wary. And Luke knew that.

“After the last disastrous attempt at a relationship, I know better now. I have an idea that might work but you need to keep an open mind for me.” His arms had pulled you in for a hug and you allowed your head to rest on his collarbone, taking in a slow deep breath before pulling away.

“Alright.”

The smile that Luke gave you in return made you sigh exasperatedly before leaning up to kiss his cheek, a fond smile on your lips.

Luke used his advantage of you being wrapped up by him to push you towards the conservatory where you knew that Sierra had been waiting for the games night the three of you shared. Sometimes with other people but more often than not it was the three of you.

“He managed to convince you, then?” At her question, you groaned once he let you go so that you could sit down, taking his own spot next to his girlfriend and kissing her cheek in greeting.

“I take it this is a plan concocted between the two of you?” Came your reply in way of answering.

Sierra just laughed and dealt out the cards. It seemed that it was going to be poker tonight.

After two games, Luke had brought out the wine to be shared between the three of you. Just before the fifth game, he paused Sierra in her shuffling of the cards. This earned curious looks from the two of you, both of you sharing a look before turning to Luke.

“Blind date. Let me set you up on a blind date.” You eyed him carefully at his words.

“Does this include the date you want to set me up on or is it separate?” Your words made him roll his eyes at you. You held back from outright grinning at his reaction.

“Fucking Slytherin.” He muttered. “It would be included in the date I want to set you up on. One date.”

It took you a few moments, weighing up his words before realising that there was hardly any harm in letting him do this.

“Fine.” You bit out and his grin turned almost predatory, a look you’d never associated with Luke before.

“How about we make a bet? It’ll be a literal blind date, blindfolds and everything. However, you can’t take the blindfold off at all. Neither can they.”

“How about we play a game of poker to decide if this bet goes ahead or not?” And the grin turned into a smirk, the dawning realisation that this had been his goal. You glared at him.

“If I win, then the bet is in play. If I lose, we don’t and I won’t try anything like this for six months.” You could feel yourself rising to his challenge, to his bait. But you were stubborn and proud. And with the victory of the last two games in your corner, you felt confident.

“Deal. Sierra is the dealer, so you don’t get any ideas to cheat a win.” That made Luke laugh as he stuck out his hand and you sighed before shaking it. “And you call me a Slytherin. Asshole.”

Luke only grinned at your words as he settled back smugly, allowing Sierra to deal the deck without getting in her way.

“Where would this date be? Public?” You asked after taking a sip of your drink and Luke hesitated for only a moment, but you saw it.

“No. It’ll be dinner here. The less publicity, the better.” This made you raise an eyebrow at him. He grinned back.

“So I take it that having sex on the dinner table would be off the cards?” You’d timed it deliberately as he took a sip of his drink, clearly not expecting that response from you as he spluttered wine over himself in an attempt to stop it from spraying further. He scowled at you as you smirked.

“Fucking menace. It’ll be here so that you’re all comfortable and a rumour mill won’t start.” He grumbled as he stood up to head back towards the kitchen. You glanced at Sierra who shrugged as she held the cards, waiting for Luke to return.

“Don’t look at me like that, he’s doing it to protect your reputation. You’re close enough to him without actually dating him and so people are gonna be interested in how to get close. You know what he’s like.” And this made you relax a little about it.

You’d known Luke since you were kids. When he made it big in the music industry with his solo career, you’d followed him to LA barely a year later. You’d never been seen away from him and people had immediately assumed.

The assumptions had long since died, although the rumours still existed, there wasn’t any truth to them. But he’d been almost ruthlessly protective of you and your reputation from then on, so you never argued when he told you about a decision for something like this. It made you more determined to beat him, so you wouldn’t have to subject yourself to the date.

When he returned with a napkin, blotting away the excess wine and cleaning up, he took his seat and Sierra dealt out the cards. He held your gaze for a moment before picking up his cards and you did the same.

“Ready to lose, Hemmings?” You took a steadying breath to stop the smirk from spreading.

He had no such trouble in hiding his smirk as he replied.

“Bring it on.”

—

“Okay are you really going this far?” You complained good naturedly as you stepped out of the car once you’d arrived at Luke’s, to find the man himself stood there, a smirk in place with a black satin tie in his hand.

“You agreed to it. You’re the last one to arrive.” You sighed before turning so that your back was facing Luke and he chuckled as the satin tie covered your eyes.

For a solid second you felt a sliver of fear run down your spine but you knew that was down to the Criminal Minds marathon you were currently in the middle of. The second that Luke’s hands were on your shoulders, turning you slowly, your body relaxed.

“Start putting one front in front of the other, I’ll keep you on course.” His voice was soft, gentle, reassuring. Your stomach was twisting knots now and you stopped for a second to quell the panic that was threatening to overcome you.

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy now. You trust me right?” It felt disorientating, knowing he was behind you but he was moving as well without lifting his hands from your shoulders.

“Yes. I’m just—nervous. And maybe a little bit scared.” You admitted to your friend. You heard Luke sigh before his arms came around you and pulled you into a strong hug, one that reminded you that he wouldn’t put you in any kind of danger and that he was there, for both reassurance and comfort.

“I made Mike force a promise out of them to be on best behaviour.” You felt your stomach do another turn, but you weren’t too sure if it was from excitement or nerves. Them. There were at least two of them.

“Okay.” You let out a deep breath before pulling away. This time, Luke took your hands and his footsteps were slow as he guided you the last bit into the house.

“Right. I’ve got my two step porch and then it’s flat till the front door. First step. Good, there we go. And now the second step. Nearly there.”

By the time you were in the house, your nerves had vanished, replaced with annoyance to Luke and his bet. But you kept quiet. You'd promised not to complain too much, which meant only complaining to your date. Or dates. You tried to hold back the noise of frustration as you were guided into the house.

Curiosity overrode your annoyance once you were seated. You could hear breathing to your left and right so you tried to steady the bundle of nerves that had settled.

“Right, have fun and both Michael and I promise that the food will be easy for you guys to eat, no need to for cutlery. Much.”

“Luke.” You snapped but he simply laughed, the laughter getting quieter before a door shut and it vanished. You held back a sigh.

“The fact that Luke blindfolded us before we even got to the door is frustrating. And I’m gonna get Mike back for this.” The person on your right muttered, his voice almost smooth like honey. There was a nagging feeling in your mind which was telling you that you’d heard the voice before.

“Well, they might know what’s going on but I have no idea what I’m doing or letting myself in for.” You murmured gently and there was a laugh to your left this time whilst the one on your right snorted.

“Feeling is absolutely mutual. How about you give us a name?” The smooth honeyed voice asked quietly and you felt your eyes roll back before remembering they couldn’t see the motion.

“You two give me yours and I’ll give you mine.” There was a choked laugh from the hallway and you sighed. “Names, nothing more... yet.”

The one to your left chuckled.

“Feisty. Nice to meet ya’. I’m Calum.” You had your head turned in his direction, his words slow and quiet.

You turned your head to the right, if only to tamper down your own embarrassment at the feeling of just talking to two strangers without looking—well, turning—in their direction.

“And you are?” You drew out the third word, making Calum snicker. You could hear muffled laughter in the hallway too.

“I’m Ashton. What about you? All is fair in love and war, and we deserve your name at least, don’t we?” You smirked.

“Ah, so you both know each other already?” At this, Calum groaned before Ashton snorted.

“Quick on that one were you?” You kept quiet at Ashton’s question before he sighed. “Yeah, we know each other.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” It was a playful taunt, but you couldn’t help yourself. Eventually you murmured your name, both men testing it on their lips. You were almost grateful for the blindfolds being able to hide the delight in your face from their eyes.

It fell into an awkward silence, and you could hear something crash in the kitchen, despite the muffled sound and finally you broke the silence with a giggle. It didn’t take Ashton or Calum long to chuckle.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing, I almost never do.” You finally murmured. “So I’m just gonna ask the most basic question, how do you both know Luke?”

There was a pause and Ashton finally responded.

“We first met him when he released the single that shot him straight into the charts. He was very different back then, but we stayed in touch and as we got older, we became friends. Calum introduced him to Michael, the one who’s helping him apparently, and they’ve worked on a couple of tracks together.” The names were familiar and you kept trying to place them before it struck you.

“Wait, Ashton Irwin and Calum Hood, right? Radio show hosts? So that means Mike is the DJ, Michael Clifford?” Calum laughed.

“I told you that they’d know who we are, Ash.” You tried not to let the grin overtake your lips as you relaxed into the chair. You’d heard enough about them that you weren’t so nervous about this.

“Yeah, yeah. And what about our mysterious blind date, huh? We don’t know much about you.” You shrugged before mentally smacking yourself as you remembered that they weren’t going to see a shrug.

“Luke is my best friend. We grew up together and he’s kind of stuck with me for life.” Despite knowing who these people were, it didn't lessen your suspicions.

Before either of them could reply, a noise broke the silence as the door into the dining room opened.

“And for the first food item of the night, we have a very huge pizza that we totally did not order from the local pizza place.” Luke’s voice seemed to hold his accent a bit more as he put on the airs. You could hear someone behind him laughing.

“For drinks, it’s water because since you all drove and Luke is a dumbass, there’s no other non alcoholic beverage apart from coffee and tea and that’s not something you’re supposed to drink on a first date.” You’d not heard this voice before, but you could only assume that it was Michael.

“The dish is in front of you and there are napkins to the left of your plate. Enjoy!” And just as quickly as they’d arrived they were gone again with the slam of the door. You laughed along with Calum and Ashton.

You carefully patted around the plate to find the napkin before gently tapping your fingers against the table top, moving further inwards until you hit the hot pizza crust. Just as you found the pizza crust, Ashton made a noise of disgust.

“Should’ve thought that the actual topping of the pizza would feel disgusting.” He muttered, making both you and Calum laugh as you tore your piece away, going back for a second once you’d put it on your plate.

Warm fingers brushed the back of your hand and you pulled it away sharply, wondering if this really was the best idea.

“Sorry.” Calum hummed and you could only make a noise of acknowledgement in return as you settled on just eating the one piece you had, ignoring the goosebumps that had risen at his touch.

It was quiet between the three of you for a few moments, your mind settling on the fact that going on this date with both of them wasn’t half bad. But you knew you were never going to admit that to Luke, otherwise you’d definitely never hear the end of it from him.

It pushed onto questions of your job, seemingly switching between the three of you.

“So have you two, like, dated together before or?” You felt bold asking that question. The last slice of pizza had gone and you were certainly feeling more comfortable with them both.

“I mean, we never really dated. It was just a fling I guess?” Calum answered, the question in his tone clearly for Ashton.

“It was more of something that kind of happened by accident. At a work Christmas party, there was a game of spin the bottle.” Ashton hesitated before continuing, “I knew it was going to happen, but we went with it when the bottle landed on Calum. Hour or so later, we’d fully reverted to teenage years and played seven minutes in heaven.”

This earned a breathless laugh from Calum.

“If I remember correctly, you muttered about finding out if the rumours about my mouth were true or not.” Another laugh followed his statement and Ashton cleared his throat.

“Yeah well, you truly put those rumours to shame. Ever since, we just existed I guess? We weren’t officially a thing, but I wouldn’t say no when Cal turned up with a couple of beers and a smirk on his lips. It’s only recently that we kinda branched out.” Ashton finished with his explanation and you could feel how flustered you felt at his words.

“And what have you found from branching out?” You quietly asked. Calum responded this time.

“That we might have something we really want to try.” And you hummed in appreciation at his honesty.

“Do you two share everything then?” Your words were playful, teasing. Ashton caught his breath as he took a sip if the sputtering was anything to go by.

The dynamic duo that the three of you had dubbed Luke and Michael broke the moment, before they could give you an answer.

“Desserts! That totally isn’t store bought at all. Not us. Never.” Michael cried out and you found yourself rolling your eyes behind the blindfold.

“At least you two are good for one thing.” You fired back cheekily, earning a few laughs from them. Luke one upped you.

“Getting the three of you together, we know. We’ll be back and don’t fuck on my dining room table!” He yelled once the dishes were set on the table and beat a hasty retreat.

“They’re gonna be smug insufferable bastards for the rest of the year.” Calum muttered as they heard the laughter die down once the door had shut once more.

“Just, don’t take your fuckin’ blindfolds off. I am not losing another bet to Luke.” You muttered sharply and Ashton chuckled.

“Oh we already told them that we’d be keeping the silk ties that they’ve used as blindfolds. However, it’s up to you if you’d let us use them.” And you could feel your heart thundering in your chest as you took in a sharp gasp at Ashton’s words.

“Depends on how you plan to use them, since we have three of them.” You fired back after only a moment of hesitation. Calum laughed.

“Oh baby, you got two hands don’t you?” The tease didn’t hide the implication in his voice and you felt your breath catch for a second time in as many minutes.

Part of you wondered if they were goading you to take the blindfold off, to lose the bet if only to get out of the house quicker with them. But your competitive nature held you in place.

“I like the sound of where this is going. So the question would be, who’s place would we go to, since I really doubt that Luke would want us to try anything in his home.”

“Too fucking right!” Was the muffled response behind the door and Ashton snickered before Calum answered.

“How about we book a hotel for the night? It’s neutral ground, and not to mention, no need to really clean up any mess we make. And believe me, there will be a lot of mess eventually.”

Calum’s plan seemed to be easy for you. And you could feel the blood rushing around your body as your mind wandered to thoughts of the night ahead.

“Are we allowed to leave yet Luke?” You called, loud enough to be heard over the muffled laughter. It took a few moments before he came in and groaned.

“Let us get these two knuckleheads out and then I’ll come back for you. Looks like you won that side of the bet.” You laughed at his petulant tone, listening patiently as the chairs scraped against the floor before their footsteps got quieter.

Another set of footsteps returned and you leaned into Luke for a moment once you were up, surprising him with a hug.

“Thanks Lu.” You murmured and he chuckled softly as he guided you back out of his house.

“If you need anything, just give me a call. Are you taking your car or-”

“They can ride with us.” Calum’s voice cut Luke’s question off. You smiled.

“It’s fine Lu. I’ll pick my car up tomorrow.”

The blindfold dropped and you had to take a few minutes to adjust from the sudden light before glancing around. Luke had already retreated indoors, the door slamming just seconds later. Your eyes studied the two men in front of you, and your mind finally connected the dots between them.

Calum stood there with a grin, holding the blindfolds in his hands, his skin glowing in the setting sun. You noticed that both of them had dressed up as you glanced at Ashton, his own attire being dress pants and a white button down, the top few buttons undone.

Pictures that you’d seen of them truly did not do them justice as Calum reached his free hand out to you as he spoke.

“Ready to find out if we really share everything?”

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@sexgodashton, @goth5sos, @calumsmermaid, @empathycth, @wildflowergrae, @calpops, @rosecolouredash, @cal-puddies, @clockwork124, @loveroflrh, @stellar5sosrecs, @ashtoniwir, @cthla, @liketheydidwithyou, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer, @bluehairedtracii, @drummerboy794, @feliznavidaddycal, @ukulelecal, @thecurlsofgod, @converse-luke, @madbomb, @ccnicole02 @youngblood199456, @megz1985, @lukesidentitycrisis, @snapback-irwie, @neonweeknds, @666yourwitchyfriend666, @readyplayermike, @cashtonasfuck, @ashtaway, @conquerwhatliesahead92, @itjustkindahappenedreally, @kchillout, @damselindistressanu, @colormekaykay, @findingliam-o, @sublimehood, @sugarcoated-pain, @singt0mecalum, @singledadharrington, @calumspeachy, @colourfulcalum, @lostincalum, @burncrashbromance, @asht0ns-world, @flusteredcliffo, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave, @fangirl-everythang, @lashtondaddies, @calumssunshine, @ambskiwi, @abundant-stars, @myescapefromthislife, @lmao5sosimagines, @beyoncesdragon, @jae-writes-fanfiction, @cxddlyash, @tresfandom, @utterly-u-n-p-e-r-f-e-c-t, @niallisworld, @lietomevalntyn, @babylon-corgis, @monochrome44, @behind-my-hazeleyes27, @ghost0fy0u, @lyllibug, @bloodmoonashton, @ghostofmashton, @summerellaz, @a-little-less-sixteen, @cashworthy, @smokeinherlungs, @longlastingdaydream, @h0tsos, @sweetcherrymike, @5sosnsfw, @sugar-nico, @sunnysidesblog @angel-cal, @samros95, @maluminspace, @lukeinblue, @cakesunflower, @allamerican-betch, @britnicole11, @gigglyirwin, @everyscarisahealingplace, @loverofcashton, @iovehemmings, @g-l-pierce, @jannimoeller3, @wildmichaelflower, @lukeskisses, @5sossstan, @youngbloodchild, @abb-lan-5sos, @calumsbub, @flameraine, @here-for-the-uproars, @mateisit-balsamic, @ilovelukey, @kiwijulia, @musiclover1263, @alloutofcashton, @tobefalling, @sarahshepherdblog, @cassie-sos, @banditocth, @cthwldflwr, @possesedperson, @treatallwithkindness, @softbabiestan, @spicycal, @thesubtweeter, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles, @punkrockpreferences, @mysticalhood, @mermaidcashton, @koalacal, @shal-pal, @kingcals, @calumcest, @adoringlrh

#5sos writing collab #calum hood fic #ashton irwin fic #cashton fic #5sos fic #5sos fics #calum hood fics #ashton irwin fics #calum hood blurbs #calum hood blurb #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #my writing #new writing

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