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hitlikehammers · 15 days ago

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PART FOUR: wherein regular-guy!Eddie is ✨finally✨ reunited with his soulmate famous!Steve

He doesn’t remember reaching, but everything’s a little bit hazy. ⭐ 💛

<<< back to the charity soirée // back to the beginning

But then Eddie’s catching sparkling eyes, and his pounding heart-in-his-throat jolts like an electrical storm’s striking in all its chambers at once but at different angles, so he’s dizzy, he’s faint, he’s not just tasting his heart, he’s holding it whole in his goddamn mouth, ready to cough it out into his hands on the coattails of ozone from the lighting seizing it up, the lifeblood pooling in it fit to fucking burst, he’s—

"We've met."

Those eyes are everything he remembers. That voice is the only thing he dreams of every night, but now, it’s like it’s his dreams and recollections were the knockoff version—though what that makes the advertisements, then, Eddie can’t even begin to guess—but the genuine article, living and breathing in front of Eddie now puts all the memories he’s been clinging to to fucking shame, because…

Eddie’s maybe died. Probably that makes the most sense. Definitely he is now dead. He slipped looking for Chrissy, hit his head. He had an unexpected allergic reaction to one of the actually-really-simple hors d'oeuvres. Tasting his heart in his throat in the first place was more serious than originally supposed.

And now, at the end of everything: he gets Steve. The real deal.

Which is so much better as an afterlife than he ever expected.

“Remember when I did that charity thing in Indianapolis?” Steve is turning away and Eddie doesn’t like that, this is his afterlife and he wants the totality of Steve’s attention and affection and adoration and—

“Like I forgot a whole three months ago—” and wait.

Wait, because that’s Buckley, and she shouldn’t be in Eddie’s afterlife. It makes sense that Steve would turn to talk to someone, but why would he be talking to anyone in Eddie’s afterlife, and Eddie’s hand goes automatically to his own hip and pinches hard enough to split skin, he’s sure, and it fucking hurts and he can still taste his heart in his throat because it’s still pounding and why is it pounding in Eddie’s afterlife—

“It was you?” Eddie rasps, and Steve turns on a dime, his attention zeroing immediately in on Eddie but…Eddie hadn’t quite weighed the glaze of distance in those eyes compared to what they’d been that night, that morning; he hadn’t clocked it wholly: they were always bright but something was missing, now, and Eddie notices it best when it’s gone and all the shine is there again, but it’s shifting to a sharp kind of intensity as that gaze takes in Eddie’s whole person and seems to find…cause for concern, if the slightest downturn in those lips, the little furrow between those brows is anything to go by.

“It,” Eddie swallows hard when Steve makes a half-aborted step in his direction, moves the littlest bit closer and that’s the right cologne, that’s the right glistening pool of subtle shade-shifts in those irises—and fuck.

Hooooly fuck.

There’s just the slightest curls of chest hair peaking above where his shirt’s unbuttoned only the littlest bit. Tantalizing. Perfect.

Goddamn…perfect.

“It is you?” Eddie whispers, the moment, the impossible gift it’s promising feeling too precious, too…delicate, to push, lest it disappear. Lest Eddie drop it and lose…more. Again.

He doesn’t remember reaching, but everything’s a little bit hazy, he thinks he can hear the spark that makes his heartbeats, he knows he can hear the blood surging in his veins, he feels stupidly alive inside the hope he’s breathing in and then—

Then there’s a hand that meets his own. And Eddie knows it’s shape. Everything in him recognizes the weight, the texture, the warmth.

His pulse stumbles at the contact, like something slipping into place where it’s been barely connected, a cable for his very being having been hanging half-outside the power socket all this time and now: there. Like the circuit’s complete.

Eddie stretches his fingers on instinct, needy, and when Steve responds by slotting their fingers and locking his around Eddie’s hand, steady and sure, Eddie’s whole fucking body lights up, all sizzling, magnetic wonder.

“Steve,” he marvels at this man, because it is this man, and Eddie’s chest feels buoyant and his heart’s a balloon full of helium knocking wild against the ceiling of his ribcage but all it knows how to do is rise, rise, rise.

“Steve,” Eddie exhales again, reaching his other hand—like fuck he’s letting go with the one already wrapped safe in Steve’s grasp—to graze Steve’s cheek ever-so-slightly, needing one more proof of reality against all the wishful daydreams he’s been tormenting himself with.

“I thought I was losing my mind seeing you everywhere,” Eddie knows he’s gaping, like a man in a desert with a mirage, and he cares not-one-fucking-bit; “but I was actually seeing you, it wasn’t just me being lovesick and pathetic,” he’s a little breathy, kinda gasping and he can’t see entirely straight but, but…

What if—

“Lovesick, you say?”

Eddie feels the way he blushes so fucking hard. He can’t even try to hide it.

He’s not solid enough in his own skin just now to even try.

“Umm,” he clears his throat, then makes himself make full-on eye contact.

“Yes,” he admits a little bashful, but Steve’s eyes just dance and fuck, Eddie will humiliate himself in any way necessary in order to earn that look. No hesitation, all in.

“Underscore pathetic, please. Make sure that’s front and center.”

He does need to make sure that part is really clear.

“What if I find it endearing, though?” Steve says like he really means it, not like he’s just trying to cushion Eddie’s ego from the burn of his honesty; “and not at all pathetic?”

Before he can process it fully, let alone think of a response, Eddie feels a hand on his arm that not Steve’s, and glances dumbly around to see Robin bustling them pointedly but unobtrusively, with no eyes on them but Steve’s on Eddie and Eddie’s fixed on Steve, shit she’s good, and Eddie recognizes where they end up, just a side meeting room, a little table with chairs, nothing special.

Except Steve is in this room. And Eddie cannot think of a more special thing. At all. Anywhere.

Ever.

“You really didn’t know?”

Eddie blinks, because he’d kind of been mooning and he needs to snap back to the now, so he makes his eyes focus on Steve’s face, Steve’s words, rather than getting lost in the all-encompassing spell of him.

Which is hard, for the record. But Eddie perseveres.

It takes him a couple seconds to reorient—just the two of them, Robin is fucking skilled—and then to put together what Steve must mean.

Like: almost definitely the fact that he was always the guy on the billboards.

So Eddie just shakes his head, and tries not to get sidetracked by how extra fucking insane and unheard of this all is, with the superstar element tacked on.

“You were the most beautiful human being I’d ever seen,” Eddie’s barely breathes the words, airy and light and not wholly there but honestly he’s pretty impressed he manages that much; “and you bought me a drink.” He laughs, shaking his head:

“Did I think you were movie-star gorgeous and then some? Duh,” because seriously: duh. “But I didn’t know, god, didn’t even notice until after you left, and before that? I wasn’t gonna blab that shit, open my mouth and make you think twice, scare you right off.”

Steve’s studying him, like he’s a puzzle when Eddie’s never felt more like an open book in his life, raw and unvarnished and heartsick over it all, and wanting so bad, tender with the suggestion the universe is offering just now that maybe he’s allowed. Maybe he can even…maybe he has a chance to have.

“Kinda remember your mouth doing anything but,” Steve shoots back wryly, leaning back on the table before dimming a little:

“You never texted me.”

And Eddie isn’t proud of the little whine he gives for the pout, the resignation in Steve’s posture; he’s not proud, but fuck if he’s ashamed.

“I started to by like mid-afternoon the same day, absolutely zero chill,” Eddie tries to steep every syllable in earnestness, in the heartfelt truth of it all; “my phone didn’t save your number.”

Steve doesn’t seem to be expecting that one.

“Seriously?” he blinks, edges softening a little as he chuckles humorlessly. “I thought you’d figured all this out,” he gestures beyond the closed door; “and that was why.”

Eddie would like very much to be able to grab that thought out of Steve’s head and crush it under the heel of his Docs. Like, not shattered, just pulverized into a stain on the ground. Unrecognizable and insignificant and easily forgotten as all absurd notions should be.

“Sweetheart, I’ve created my own dry spell out of sheer misery, over having missed that chance,” Eddie states it plain, lays it out on main between them.

And Steve? Steve just stares some more, a deeper version of the calculating look he’s had on and off since they locked eyes again, against all fucking odds.

Like maybe Eddie’s been right the whole time. That they’re something other, like something fated. That this really looks like it is the great love of his life, and everything in him knew it.

Which: fuck. Of course Eddie was right. He didn’t actually doubt it—couldn’t, not when he felt like something had died, too big to even mourn.

Until right fucking now. When it feels like he’s breathing with both lungs for the first time in months.

Then Steve’s eyeing him up and down, worrying his lip before he says, almost quips save for the way his hand seems to nervously brush back through that gorgeous fucking hair:

“Would you like another?”

Eddie takes a second to trace back to what he last said: chances. Missed ones.

Would he like—

“What?”

It cannot be that simple.

(Please be that simple.)

“Wanna know a secret?”

Eddie’s still tongue tied, brain firing randomly and out of any particular pattern to follow, just giddy disbelief and the urge to start fucking bawling for emotional overload and the implications that he might just be entitled here to feel sheer relief: the way Steve tips himself toward Eddie a little from the waist, just enough to notice him closer, does absolutely nothing to make Eddie more inclined to coherence.

He just nods frenetically, like a goddamn bobble head.

“Been in kinda a funk of my own, thinking about you, moping pathetically,” he emphasizes with feeling, and a raised brow to boot; “about how you never called, according to my best friend,” he cocks his head behind himself again, no doubt indicating Robin and, and…

Is it too good to be true?

Fuck if it is; Eddie’s not letting this go again.

“Let me make it up to you?” he blurts out, and watches Steve’s eyes widen and…wait.

“Wait, wait, fuck,” Eddie says all breathless, because he’s taking liberties, isn’t he; he wants this, whatever it is and all it can be but Steve’s, Steve is—

Eddie just propositioned a movie star. His very-likely star crossed lover, but, Eddie can’t just assume that they’re both on the same—

“Name the date.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. Steve doesn’t hesitate.

If this isn’t real, if Eddie’s reading it all wrong…

Eddie isn’t brave, like, that’s a categorical fact. But there’s a primal sense of purpose, not to mention self-preservation, in leaping at this and grabbing with both hands, with his whole heart.

“Tomorrow?” he asks, hopeful as hell, but that’s when he sees it: Steve’s eyes hadn’t widened in surprise. His pupils had dilated.

His eyes are more black than anything, now, when he says with absolute definitive certainty:

“Done.”

Eddie can’t help but stare, can’t tame the childlike dizzy joy bubbling over in him as he asks, wondering:

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Steve smiles small, emanating like a banked fire on a cold night; “you’re something special, Eddie,” and he tilts his head, looks up through his lashes and holy fuck, but if Eddie is lucky enough to be the target of that look for any time at all beyond this encounter, here and now?

It would be the most incredible way to fall apart on the goddamn daily.

“We spent one night together,” Eddie feels himself mouth, just, baffled in the brightest way that this can possibly be happening for real, that for all the certainty he’s felt in the face of every logical voice of sense, he’s known and now the other half of his equation is standing here, like maybe he knows too.

“And a lovely morning,” Steve leans into his space before his gaze changes, not in a bad way, exactly, but whatever the right word for how it changes is?

Eddie doesn’t like it.

“You feel differently?”

And that would be why he didn’t like it.

“Fuck no,” Eddie hisses, aghast at the notion. “Just,” and he licks his lips, tries to straighten out his thoughts; “you are,” and, hey: looks like he sucks at straightening out his thoughts, wow, okay—so he just grabs a clump of hair to hide behind a little, but more like a tether than a shield, and he resigns himself to just…spilling his words all clumsy as shit, willy-fucking-nilly.

“Even if I agreed with you about being special, if I was, then I don’t have a word for how out of my fucking league you are.”

He drops his hair when there’s no reply for a few beats, and he makes himself look up at Steve properly.

Steve, who is watching him with curiosity, and warmth, and with no small amount of genuine fucking affection, the kind that threatens to make Eddie’s heart try to escape out through his mouth again, only this time he’d really be aiming for it to land in Steve’s hands.

Or Steve’s chest, if he was bold enough to hope at being that lucky, after all of this already.

“Did you play sports?” Steve asks, weirdly casual, the kind of tone you’d expect from someone looking wholly bored as they stared to the side into the distance, which is the opposite of what Steve’s doing, tipping his chin the way Eddie remembers from the bar. Considering, but somehow inviting for it. Wholly contradictory.

Fascinating.

“Like in school?” Eddie asks, only a little bewildered, and whole-ass snorts when Steve nods.

“Do I look like the jock type?”

“Then how about you leave the league thinking to me,” he lifts his palm to Eddie’s waist and pulls him a little closer, and Eddie is suddenly very aware of just how much he missed being in a close enough orbit to this man to be able to feel when he breathes; “and take me out tomorrow,” and Steve, because he’s otherworldly and spectacular and shit, reaches up to tuck Eddie’s hair behind his ear and hell if Eddie doesn’t shiver from the base of his neck straight down for the featherlight, fragile little gesture’s quiet intimacy, good god.

But then he’s pulling back, and Eddie feels his eyes widen and his jaw drop because no, no, that’s not right, that—

“And you let me put my number in your phone right now,” Steve gestures very close to the clear shape of said phone in Eddie’s back pocket, like he wants to grab it himself but isn’t sure where they stand yet, or maybe because they are still ‘in public’ no matter how much Robin must be making sure they’re not bothered in this side room, but then Steve grins, and it’s so soft and it’s molten in his eyes and Eddie thinks he gets it.

Steve’s hands have been more than his on Eddie ass before, but.

This is gonna retrace some of the steps they had to skip, for circumstance’s sake. Eddie doesn’t hate that.

Watching Steve’s eyes darken as his lips quirk a little higher, yeah. Yeah: Eddie doesn’t hate that at all.

He hands Steve his phone wordlessly, maybe a little desperately as Steve flicks his thumb and starts to type, grinning as he does while he speaks a little sly:

“So we can both maybe do something about the cases of blue balls it sounds like we’ve been fighting?”

Eddie chokes on something dangerously close to a giggle. “Does it count as blue balls if I’ve been jacking off more in the last twelve weeks than I have since high school?”

And god, Eddie lights up like fucking chandelier when Steve cackles, and shoves Eddie’s bicep, as easy as that morning in the kitchen had been.

Just like that.

“I think it counts if we were only able to jack off,” Steve raises a brow with a smirk as he passes Eddie’s phone back to him, and Eddie only glances away to look down at the screen when it vibrates right after Steve hands it back, just to see the contact S.H.😘, with a simple message below:

fuck ‘missed chances’

“You can take that both ways, just so you know,” Steve says softly, not pushing, but definitely sure. Presumptuous because he can read it seeping out of Eddie’s pores, not because he expects it as a matter of course.

Which is really fucking hot, basically. Like.

Really fucking hot.

“How do you feel about Italian?” Eddie asks before he can’t think any further, can stumble when his heart’s doing all the stumbling necessary for the moment, and in truth: Eddie isn’t at all unsure.

Like: not even a little.

Plus, with the way Steve smiles?

Worth all the fluttering happening in his chest, fucking twenty-fold.

💛💛💛

<<< back to the charity soirée // part three ✨or✨ on to date night // part five >>>

for @pearynice 🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @sadisticaltarts @bumblebeecuttlefishes @shrimply-a-menace @wheneverfeasible @1-tehe-1 @themoonagainstmers @dreamercec @ravenfrog @live-laugh-love-dietrich @stealthysteveharrington @tinyplanet95 @theohohmoment @samsoble

divider credit here

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #famous!steve/regular-guy!eddie #fluff #one-night stand #(except definitely not a one night stand at all not even from the very start)#(maybe that's a spoiler but I do not care one little bit at all)#idiots fall into bed then fall in love #you know: tale as old as time #stranger things #gift fic #pearynice #hitlikehammers' hobbit-birthday prompt fest #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes

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the-offside-rule · 10 months ago

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Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Shouldn't Have Happened

Requested: yes

Prompts: 4) "You deserve better." 15) "You're a wonderful person and don't you ever forget that." 28) "Have you been drinking?"

Warnings: drunk max

The streets of Monaco were quiet other than the distant echoes of laughing and cars fading into the night. Y/n Leclerc walked through the cobbled alleys, her steps echoing in the silence. She had chosen to bot drink too much tonight, watching over her friends who had indulged a bit too much in the celebration. As she rounded a corner, she stumbled upon an unexpected sight—a figure sprawled in a flower bed. She scoffed before she continued walking and only to see a familiar face. Max Verstappen. Concerned, Y/n approached him, gently shaking his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

Max stirred, groaning slightly. "I'm fine... just needed a moment with the flowers." He slurred, sounding very....drunk.

"A flower bed in Monaco." Y/n muttered somewhat amused. "Are you hurt?" Max sat up slowly, rubbing his temple. "Just my pride, I think." Y/n noticed the faint scent of alcohol clinging to him. "And you've been drinking?" Max laughed, his gaze shifting from the starry sky to Y/n Leclerc in a red dress, holding her heels as though they were a handbag. "Yeah, too much, I guess." He replied, sitting up, denying Y/n to help him. "Why?" Y/n asked, curiosity and concern mingling in her voice. Max hesitated before confessing. "My girlfriend um- she cheated on me. My friends convinced me to go out looking for a rebound, but I ended up feeling like shit and getting sad again."

"I'm not trying to be insincere but it was very obvious she would do this." Max looked at her, his eyes turning into one of anger. "Think About it Max. She never went to your races and whenever she did, she either paraded herself around or was glued to her phone. It was so obvious she was using you and cheating." Max groaned, nearly falling back into the flower bed. "Okay, just-" Y/n hoisted Max'sarm over her shoulder and began walking up the steep hill. "Jesus, I thought you guys liked to stay light." Y/n mumbled. "Did you just call me fat?" Max blabbered. "Oh shut up. Charles is the same." Max didn't speak. He couldn't and he didn't want to. "You deserve better." Y/n said firmly, her eyes reflecting sincerity. Max down, meeting her gaze. "Do I, though?"

"You do." Y/n insisted. "You're a wonderful person, and don't you ever forget that." As she got to the top of the hill, Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a swab for the apartment complex front door. As Max struggled to get the swab to work, Y/n took it and opened it for him. "I'll come up with you just just you can open your actual door." She mumbled. "Oh, Y/n. I didn't know you cared." He teased before Y/n slapped his chest. "Shut up! Get inside!" She began giggling upon seeing Max laughing hysterically at his own joke. "I'm serious! Come on before Charles calls me to see where I am!"

Finally, Y/n opened the front door, letting Max fall in and stumble to the kitchen. Y/n looked around in awe. This looked nothing like her brothers apartment. As a matter of fact, it could possibly be much nicer. "Drink?" She turned to see Max opening up a huge liquor cabinet. "I think I should get going." Max shrugged. "If you have to. I mean, I have two glasses here and one is going to be very lonely without the other." He sang, pouring both glasses. Y/n eyed them for a moment before she gave in. "Okay, just one."

-----------------

"When did you and your girlfriend break up?" Y/n asked as Max poured another glass. "In like-" Max thought for a moment. "September? I just couldn't let loose and drink like I can now so I have been bottling everything up and now I'm here drinking with the littlest of the Leclerc's." Y/n and Max toasted before she downed the drink yet again. "You seem to need that vodka. Need something stronger?" She shook her head. "No, but maybe a red wine?" Max turned, grabbed a brand new bottle and placed it in front of Y/n. "I have and its my most expensive one." Y/n looked between Max and the bottle. "Well don't give me the expensive one." Max shook his head, opening the bottle. "No, no. Drink the good wine on a bad day because on a good day, all wine tastes good." Y/n smiled. "My mother always says that."

She poured herself a glass before taking a sip. "So, why are you so down?" Max asked. "University. Its getting to be too much and I'm honestly thinking of dropping out and becoming a hairdresser like Mama." Max sighed. "Well, I think you would be great in whatever you want to do. I actually think you'd be a really good therapist." Y/n smiled. "I'm in university to be a sport psychologist actually." Max nodded. "Very good. I'll come to you about all my problems from now on." Max chuckled. "Maybe that would stop me from thinking of looking for a rebound."

They sat in silence for a moment, simply looking between eachothers eyes and lips. "You're not the rebound type, Max. That's not who you are as a person." She whispered, her words resonating in the night air. "How do you know what kind of a person I am?" Max mumbled, sipping his whiskey. "Charles talks about you sometimes. And you forget I bumped into you I a club on my birthday last year." Max looked at her yet again. He felt safe with her. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or her aura but he felt safe. "And you figured me out that quick?" Y/n shook her head. "No, but I'd like to figure you out. You seem lovely."

As the night wore on, Max's shoulders seemed lighter, his smile more genuine. And as they walked back to Y/n's apartment, the air crackled with an unspoken tension. "Have you had a rebound? Have you had anyone since her?" Y/n asked as Max drank his wine and Y/n looked up at him intently. Max hesitated, his gaze flickering uncertainly. "No. Too busy, but Im hoping now with the off-season, I could get a chance to explore new possibilities and people." He replied. "New people. Does this mean men are included?" Max shook his head, nearly spitting out his drink. "No, Jesus. No. I like women. I'm a big fan of the breasts." As Y/n and Maxs laughing quietened down, they could feel the electricity in the air, their hearts pounding in their chests. They leaned in closer to one another, slowly. "Are you going to just stare at me or-" And then, in a moment of boldness, Max leaned in and kissed her.

Y/n's heart fluttered, her head spinning with a whirlwind of emotions. Max deepened the kiss as Y/n's hands flew up to the back of his head, pulling him as close as he could possibly go. Their pants and puffs filled the room, knocking over glasses as Max hoisted Y/n up onto the countertop. It was then Y/n pushed him away. "Wait. No. This is so, so wrong on so many levels." Y/n whispered to herself. "What do you mean?" Max asked. "I mean, I am not going to be your rebound because its just so fucking wrong. I haven't Eve done that kind of stuff before. Jesus!" Y/n hopped down off the counter, muttering to herself in French as Max grabbed her back for her. "Who said you were my rebound?" Max asked.

"Max! Regardless, I don't think I could do this. You race my brother, you just got cheated on and you've told me multiple times you just want a rebound. Well, I'm sorry, but that's not what I'm looking for." As she turned to head for the door, Max pulled her back. "Listen, I don't want you as a rebound. I'm not doing this because I'm drunk, I'm doing this because I genuinely like you and I'd like to get to know you better." Y/n's chest rose and fell quickly as she took deep breathes to try and control herself. "Then take me out for food or something first at least." She replied. "Okay." Max took out his phone and handed it to Y/n. She looked up it skeptically. "Put your number in. I'll text you in the morning and we can go for breakfast. Better yet, I'll bring you for lunch on my yacht." She scoffed. "Yachts don't impress me, Max."

"Maybe not, but it would give me a chance to actually get to know you." She typed her number in it and added a heart for good measure. "How's that?" She asked. Max smiled. "Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow."

-----------

Y/n groaned, her head pounding as she stumbled into the kitchen to the sound of her mother's concerned voice. Whilst she had done her hair up and changed into more respectable clothes than the night before, there was no denying that she probably felt like she was dying. Arthur and Charles exchanged mischievous grins, eying her with curiosity. Her mother, worried, placed a bowl of cereal in front of her. "Are you okay, dear?" Pascale asked, rubbing her daughter's head. "No." Y/n replied miserably. "There is some pills in the cabinet to help your headache. I just need to go go the bathroom and I'll get them for you." Pascale said, heading towards the bathroom.

Before Y/n could respond, Arthur and Charles jumped in with sly grins. "So, how was your night, Y/n?" Arthur asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Y/n felt her cheeks flush as she recalled the events of the evening—the chance encounter, the heartfelt conversations, the stolen kiss...and everything that happened after that. "It was great." She replied, her voice quiet and shy with a tone of embarrassment. "You definitely stayed at a guys house last night. Admit it!" Charles chuckled. "No! I'm back here, aren't I?" She defended herself. "Yes, but I heard you open the door at nearly 5 this morning." Charles and Arthur laughed. "I do have friends you know. Plus, there wasn't even a guy last night. It was just me and my friends." Y/n replied, trying to disguise the fact that she was in fact talking to a guy. "So, care to explain the mysterious hill-walking we saw on TikTok?" Charles asked, shoving his phone in her face. Sure enough, there it was; Y/n and a mysterious man walking up a steep hill as they argued.

Y/n sighed, realizing her night out had become the latest family gossip. "It's not what it looks like," she mumbled, bracing herself for the interrogation from her cheeky brothers. "I- That's not me. Im-" She paused when she heard her phone buzz. She quickly answered it and her heart skipped a beat upon seeing the message.

Max🧡

I'm in Cafe de Paris. Unless you decided you don't want to join me

She smiled to herself before she pocketed her phone and headed towards the door, now a bounce in her step. "Well, as much as I'd like to answer you and your false accusations, boys. I have a Cafe to head to and a person to meet so, au revoir, á bientot, et bisous." She smiled, closing the door behind her and leaving her brothers curious.

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader

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capseycartwright · 8 months ago

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for my fellow merli girlies - do you remember the whole “all roads lead to bruno” line from the sequel series? well, i thought about that too hard and it caused this. enjoy!

all roads lead to eddie diaz

Eddie inclined his head slightly. “He is,” he hummed in response. “But it sounds more like you’re wanting to pick a fight here than discuss our mutual appreciation for how great a person Buck is.”

Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.”

or - eddie and tommy have a revelatory conversation about the buck of it all.

ao3 link

The thing is, Eddie doesn’t intend to say what he does. He blames Frank, in all honesty, because if Eddie was less in touch with his own emotions, perhaps he wouldn’t have said it at all – but Frank had worked hard to make Eddie a more open version of himself, a more confident version of himself, and Eddie blames the confidence for how it happens.

It’s a family barbecue. Eddie loves their 118 family barbecues. They’re chaotic, in the nicest way, Bobby and Athena’s garden full of children of all ages, teenagers gathered in the corner, pouring over whatever the latest game they have for their consoles is, Jee-Yun holding court with the littlest of their gang, enough toys to rival an actual toy store gathered around them. Bobby was grilling, Buck standing at his side, the two of them looking altogether very serious as they discussed whether or not the burgers were done yet.

Eddie loved their family barbecues – the way everyone had a role to play amongst the chaos. Eddie’s was to stay far away from the food – though he felt he had long-since redeemed himself on the culinary front – and so he was usually sitting with a beer in hand, observing. Maybe once upon a time it was in an ‘outside looking in’ kind of way, but now it was in more of an appreciative way – Eddie loved this family he had built for himself, the people he had found and the people who had helped him find himself. He liked to watch, drink it all in – because one day, Eddie Diaz would be old and grey (and it was a revelation in itself to want to grow old) and these will have been the good old days, and he’ll miss them, so he likes to observe, and try and commit it all to memory.

Eddie’s attention was drawn by a bright laugh from Buck, and he couldn’t help the way he smiled as he watched his best friend.

“He’s brilliant, isn’t he?” Tommy said, siding up to Eddie. Normally, it wouldn’t be unusual for Eddie and Tommy to discuss how wonderful Buck was – it had long since become a key bonding point of their friendship – but there was an edge to Tommy’s voice that surprised Eddie. Tommy was a fairly calm and collected guy.

Tommy, at least, looked slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he admitted. “The way you feel about him.”

Eddie was quiet, for a minute. “Because I was good at hiding it,” he admitted. “Even from myself. I hid it for so long that I think people started to assume they were wrong to think I had ever felt that way about him.”

“But you do? Feel that way about him?”

Eddie shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like you want to know the answer to that.”

Tommy sighed. “I’m asking you – as a friend.”

“Then the answer is yes,” Eddie said. It still surprised him, how easily the words came now. It had taken so long for him to get to the point of being able to say it, the words coming out in a panicked rush during a session with Frank. It had felt like the most immense task he had ever undertaken, in that moment, but the words had started to come easier, since – when he’d told Hen, and Karen, over a bottle of pinot grigio, the words punctuated by some sad tears. He’d thought it had been too late, then, and Hen had gently reassured him that it would never be too late, not for him and Buck.

Still – it was the wrong time. Buck was with Tommy, and they’d been together for close to five months now, and Buck was happy. Liberated, even, free, and comfortable in himself in a way that Eddie had never seen before. His bisexuality had been the thing Buck had searched for his whole life, and who was Eddie to deny him the joy of discovering his queerness with a relatively attractive man who was kind to him? Eddie was in love with Buck, and in some ways, that love was what allowed him to take a more selfless approach to the whole situation. Eddie was proud of that.

Tommy’s face was doing something entirely complicated.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Eddie asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t want this to affect his friendship with Tommy – really, he didn’t. Eddie knew that if this all went the way he would like it to go, there would be hurt, but he’d sort of been hoping that Buck and Tommy’s relationship would come to its natural end and that hurt would only be momentary, the result of the strangeness that Tommy would feel if his ex-boyfriend started to date their mutual friend. But despite that, Eddie didn’t want to lose Tommy, and he knew Buck wouldn’t want to lose him either.

“Is it going to be a problem for you?” Tommy questioned, in lieu of a response.

Eddie shrugged. “No.”

Tommy’s face got even more complicated, confusion the clear emotion. “How – how is it not a problem for you?”

And this – this is where Eddie probably should have kept his mouth shut. In hindsight, he should have feigned some sort of migraine, and ran away, but he didn’t. Eddie let his newfound confidence get the better of him, and that was a very shiny, new problem for him.

There were lots of reasons it wasn’t a problem, but it all boiled down to one simple thing -

“I know he’ll chose me.”

The words were out, before Eddie could stop himself, and he couldn’t help but internally wince as he looked at Tommy’s face, the confusion turning to hurt, and then, well – annoyance. It wouldn’t be a nice thing to hear, Eddie knew, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt in saying it.

Eddie Diaz knew several different things to be true. The sky was blue, and he loved Christopher with every particle of his being. He was a damn good firefighter – and Evan Buckley would always choose him, over anyone else in the world.

Buck just didn’t know he was an option, yet.

“You sound very sure of that,” Tommy’s jaw was set in a hard line, his annoyance clear.

“I am,” Eddie said. “I want him to be happy, with you. I’m not going to try and ruin what you have. But Buck and I – we’ve been going somewhere for a long time, now, and neither of us were ready before. We’re not ready now, arguably. But I know we will be, one day, and so I know he’ll chose me.”

“All roads lead to Eddie Diaz, huh?”

“Something like that.”

Tommy was quiet. “I’m not going to fight you for him.”

“I’m not going to start a fight,” Eddie retorted. “It’s his decision.”

“Right.” Tommy looked as though he didn’t quite know what to say. “I am – I’m going to go and get another drink.”

Eddie watched as the other man walked away, and although it wasn’t particularly nice of him, he couldn’t help but smirk into the rim of his beer bottle.

The sky was blue, and Eddie was a happy man, now – and Buck would always choose him. He was sure of it.

He was looking forward to it.

#in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911fic

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wickedsmille · 12 days ago

Text

batman, robin, sentient super suits, oh my! part 2

Here's Part 1 and somehow there's going to be a part 3 too because I'm apparently incapable of doing anything short. Just ain't made for it. I've become resigned to my fate. But, hey, here's part 2! ;3

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“What is going on with this thing tonight,” Tim murmurs harshly with an irritated huff.

Jason would like to know, too, since Tim’s comms patched into his private line without Jason’s say so. It could’ve been the Red Hood fucking with him again but the suit has been tame. Well, okay, as tame as his suit gets. Which is suspicious all on its own but that’s a problem for a later time. Right now, he has an unsuspecting Tim on the line.

“Come on you stupid piece of shit,” Tim whispers like a man at the end of his rope.

“Woah, woah, language there, RR,” Jason chides him because he can.

Tim makes a noise somewhere between a squeak and a grunt which would normally have Jason laughing except Tim chokes off the sound and mutters, “Uh oh.”

He’s never liked uh oh’s.

“What?” he demands, feigning annoyance but honestly a little worried.

“So,” Tim starts hesitantly. The rest of the words spill out of him in a rush when he says, “I was trying to get a hold of Batgirl because I’m on a stake out that isn’t a stake out anymore and I’m currently hiding from about thirty heavily armed and trained mercenaries but all the exits are covered so I can’t exactly sneak out.”

Tim trails off while Jason’s stomach churns. “You’re what?” Jason responds, this time truly annoyed.

“If I have to repeat myself and I give away my position,” Tim warns him absently. There’s another pause and Jason much prefers Tim’s word vomit to the ominous sound of Tim’s measured breathing and the growing din in the background. “Uh oh” Tim says but with more feeling this time.

“Don’t you fucking uh oh me. Where are you?”

“It’s the home goods warehouse southeast of the docks. 1334 Har-." Tim doesn’t get a chance to finish rattling off the address. If Jason has to guess, he would say it has something to do with the sudden sound of gunfire.

This is not happening. He got butt dialed into a backup call and now the littlest bird is a sitting duck in a den of lions. With only Jason to lean on. Who isn’t even sure where he is. It’s not like the actual contents of Gotham’s warehouses isn’t ever shifting between legitimate goods and illicit ones or anything. Property rights and leases exchanging hands between asset management teams and gangs. Money is money after all. The area around the docks is all warehousing and logistics so, over all, Tim has been completely unhelpful.

He knows better than to divide Tim’s attention when he’s in the middle of a serious fight. One wrong word and Jason could be the reason Tim gets a bullet to the brain or pushed off a two story catwalk. It doesn’t exactly leave him with very many options other than immediately changing his trajectory to take him over to the industrial center by the docks. It’s a quiet night. He should be able to hear the gunshots.

Turns out, he doesn’t have to waste valuable time playing Where’s The Fire Fight? because Red Hood has it handled. Or Tim finally made use of one of the many panic buttons he’s sure are sewn all over his less-than-stellar, non-magical-mystical-whatever suit. No matter how, Jason gets a ping on his HUD and a map of Gotham pulls up into the corner with a neat little red dot for Tim’s location. Now knowing where he’s going, Jason pushes himself to hurry the fuck up.

Getting back to his bike is a blur but he’s ripping down Gotham’s streets as soon as he gets the engine started and kickstand up. One irate cab driver has the audacity to honk at him when he blows through a red light so Jason gives him the middle finger and few choice words. The guy must be new to the city if he doesn’t know to look both ways for high speed vigilantes. Jason would be more than happy to teach him the lesson if he didn’t have places to be and things to do.

Thanks to his incredible driving skills and his innate ability to not turn himself into a pavement pancake, Jason gets to the warehouse in record time. If only Guinness had been watching. He would’ve gotten a medal or whatever it is they do when someone breaks one of the many, many pointless world records the books have immortalized.

Since all the doors and exterior windows do appear to be fortified and armed, Jason grapples himself to the roof and is delighted to see the unsecured skylight. Whoever these guys are, they must be from out of town too. Any Gotham-ized gangster, goon, villain or otherwise knows to board those up first. Out of towners, he swears. No problem, the cab driver got him primed for a teaching moment so he’s about to take these motherfuckers to school.

Handling Vigilantes 101:

-Never leave your skylights or exterior vents unattended.

-Before engaging in criminal activity, make sure you have active health insurance.

-Prepare to get your ass pounded into paste by some douchebags in tight leather (and not in the fun way).

In true Bat-fashion, Jason makes his dramatic entrance via ziplining through the skylight after cracking the glass with the steel-toe of his boot. He’s already got a gun out by the time his feet touch down with a jarring thud. The total amateurs, by Gotham standards, startle enough Jason has ample time to start putting them down. A flash of red and black from the corner of his eye lets him know Tim has darted out to either pull some shifty, sneaky shit or find better coverage than the shot to hell crates he’d been keeping between himself and a .22 to the dome.

Even when the mercs gather up their wits and retaliate against the new threat, the Red Hood does its job. About a minute of getting shot at, knowing he’ll be sporting a myriad of bruises from it but trusting his suit to keep anything fatal at bay, and the idiots start second guessing their current line of attack.

What’s a bruise or two for the ghost tales that’ll get spread around about the Red Hood being impervious? Jason may be all too human but the Red Hood allows him to pose himself as something more, something greater. Obviously unnerved, the shooting stops as the guys start back pedaling. Too bad Red Robin is there to greet them when they turn tail to make a run for it.

Jason watches as Tim neatly dispatches the leftovers. He might not have been able to properly appreciate it before, but Tim really is good with that stick of his. Liquid grace in motion, slipping under the mercenaries’ guards easily and transitioning from one opponent to another with a little flair and a lot of skill. Bits and pieces of it Jason can recognize from his own training regimens as Robin, some of it from a couple people he’s run into as Red Hood and can’t help but wonder how Tim met them. The weird amalgamation is all Tim though in the way he takes the best from what he’s learned then takes the discordant moves and shapes them into a symphony of movement. And pain cause, hot damn, Tim isn’t playing. Jason swears he sees one guy's molars get smacked right out of his head.

One of the assholes groans from where he fell at Jason’s feet after getting hit with a couple rubber bullets point blank so he kicks him in the head to shut him up. Jason is appraising his ally’s fighting skills, thanks. People can be so rude sometimes.

Tim downs the last merc and, with a satisfied smirk that has Jason’s gut twisting, he leans against his staff with his hip cocked. The tight fabric of his suit is clinging to him like a second skin. Enough so to make Selina and Dick proud. His cape falls in a wave at his back, held in place by the bandoliers crossing his chest. The damn things make Tim’s tiny waist painfully obvious. Small mercies Tim decided to ditch the cowl a few months back. The elegant fall of his too long hair suits the whole Red Robin look a lot better than the gimp cowl.

“Are you going to help secure them?” Tim asks, frowning and looking over his shoulder at Jason as he zipties one of the guys starting to wriggle around.

Jason’s higher thinking kicks back in. Tim does make a good point. They should probably truss up the trash before they’ve got another scuffle on their hands. He hadn’t even realized he drifted off a little bit there. Weird but it has been a long, strange night. Brushing it off, Jason crouches down to start hog tying the mercenaries closest to him.

Nothing, nothing, will ever beat the hilarity that is criminals awake and wriggling while they’re literally hog tied. Tim may not have approved while he was doing it but, standing next to each other on an adjacent roof to make sure the GCPD carts them off as they should, Tim isn’t saying a bad word about it. In fact, his lips are pinched together like he’s trying to hold back a snicker. One of the mercenaries jolts awake when an officer takes their arm to start hauling them away. The man startles hard and starts grunting and thrashing.

Tim loses it and, man, Jason has never heard him laugh. Like really laugh. It’s a good look on Tim.

“I’m not saying you should’ve,” Tim pushes out past a couple more chuckles.

“I’m sensing a but,” Jason says, his grin all charm and completely wasted since Tim can’t see his face because of the helmet.

“But,” Tim parrots, “that was pretty funny.”

Jason bows with a flourish which has Tim laughing anew though it is softer, quieter this time. In the middle of drinking up the delicate lines of Tim’s face and the curve of his smile, Jason’s HUD goes dark. Totally dead. There’s a couple emergency lights built inside since small, dark places don’t mix well with him anymore. Otherwise, nothing is working.

The Red Hood isn’t subtle one goddamn bit and the stupid suit is lucky he bothered with slapping a domino on before he went out tonight. Quickly undoing the security panels on the underside of his jaw, Jason pulls the helmet off. He shakes out his hair and swipes at the sweat beaded along his brow. A couple strands are stuck to his head and refuse to move so Jason reaches up and musses his hair in an attempt to not feel grungy and gross.

When he looks up, Tim is staring at him so, without the barrier of the helmet, he whips back out the ol’ Jason Todd charm, smiling wolfishly. Then Tim sort of, freezes up. Jason looks over his shoulder to make sure some new big bad isn’t lurking nearby that they missed. But, nope, nothing there. As he turns his head to meet Tim’s gaze again, he’s back to normal. Tim’s approximation of normal at least.

He’s tapping a hand against his thigh and looking off towards the cityscape of downtown Gotham. His other hand is settled firmly on his waist while he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Alright, well, thanks for the backup. Talk about a happy accident,” Tim says after clearing his throat a couple times.

“Don’t mention,” Jason tells him. “But really, don’t mention it. I don’t want all the Bats breathing down my neck.”

They’re a give an inch, take a mile bunch. If he green lights as a solid reach out for back up, the next thing he knows he’ll be on the main comms listening to inane chatter. Probably have a shadow or two trailing him on patrols like he needs help running his happy, shitty section of the city. Invitations to the Cave will shift to dinners and movie nights. As pleasant as that all sounds, he’d like to avoid it at all costs.

Tim nods easily and readies his grapple. “Fair. Well. Have a good night?” The awkwardness of Tim’s polite goodbye has Jason laughing and shaking his head. Tim bristles as he shoots off his line. “Or not, whatever,” Tim mutters.

“Yeah, alright, awkward bird,” Jason calls out to him as Tim swings away.

Next time, it’s Jason reaching out to Tim. Not even Red Hood calling out to Red Robin. He’s literally phoning Tim's personal cell on one of his burners and asking for a favor. There’s a little cell of nasty drug traffickers from down south with their sights set on Gotham. Although he could wait for them to make the egregious mistake of coming onto his stomping grounds, Jason has decided to gift them the honor of a house call given the sheer viciousness they’ve been using to move their product.

Problem is, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be undercover snuffing them out and Crime Alley rarely rests even with the Red Hood’s impressive shadow looming over it. If he goes dark for more than a week all hell breaks loose. Usually Roy will step in for him and his suit has been accommodating to the temporary trade off in wearer. That’s not an option this time with Roy otherwise occupied. As are his second and third options so he’s had no choice but to ask for help from the Bat he can best stand.

He didn’t even need to threaten or bribe Tim after promising a rubber bullets only policy would be fine. The agreement may have come readily but Tim did sound distracted. A niggle of doubt has him pacing his apartment as he waits for Tim to show up. For all he knows, Tim might’ve been less present in the conversation than he thought and not show up at all.

The knock at his window comes as a mild surprise. Twisting his head around, hand twitching towards the gun he has lying on the counter next to him, Jason relaxes when he sees Tim standing on his fire escape clad in dark clothes with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up. Tim waves at him and gestures to the window with a raised brow.

Jason doesn’t scramble to open it but he might do it a little too eagerly. Thankfully, Tim doesn’t comment on it as Jason steps back to let Tim in.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Tim asks dubiously once he’s standing in the middle of Jason’s living room with his hands jammed in his pouch pocket.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Jason responds without actually being sure. The Red Hood could always reject Tim. Only one way to find out though. “Follow me,” Jason says as he gestures Tim down the hall to his bedroom where he keeps his suit stored.

“Alright. Sorry I’m late, by the way. My suit has been giving me issues lately.”

“Like what?” Jason asks curiously as he pushes open the door to his room and goes to unearth the Red Hood.

Tim shrugs and absently looks around Jason’s room. It’s uncomfortable to have Tim here, for him to see where Jason lives. He does his best to ignore it as he spreads the suit out on his bed. Approaching slowly, Tim takes his hands out of his pocket so he can run a finger down the chestplate. The whole thing does a little shimmy shake. Jason has a bad feeling about this.

“I’m not exactly your size,” Tim drawls, looking Jason up and down.

A spark of molten heat sparks deep in his core so Jason smothers it with extreme prejudice. “If you’re not lookin’ like a kid in daddy’s clothes then we’ll be fine. It’ll adjust. If it likes you.”

“If it likes me,” Tim murmurs.

There’s a sad, bitter edge to Tim’s expression as he stares down at the suit. Once more, Jason realizes he has stepped on a sore spot for Tim. The same one even. Let no one ever accuse him of being great at interpersonal relationships.

Tim banishes whatever he has going through his mind with a shake of his head. His face shifts to one of determination as he shucks off his sweatshirt. And his shirt. Then he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants.

“Enjoying the show?” Tim questions sarcastically.

Right. Right, he was staring. When he shouldn’t have been.

“I want a refund,” Jason throws out to cover his folly. Tim snorts so Jason takes it as a win. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if the suit gives you a hard time. It’ll listen to me sometimes.”

“Sometimes. That’s comforting.”

“I try. Now get your tiny ass in it.”

Jason excuses himself from the room, shutting the door, before making his way to the kitchen where his open duffel bag is already stuffed with the essentials. To keep himself busy, Jason checks over the contents. Then double checking and tossing a couple other things in the bag. Once satisfied, he zips it up and pats the thick canvas of the bag. When he looks up from his distraction, Tim is there in the hallway.

I fucked up, Jason bemoans internally.

Not because the Red Hood is being antagonistic and obstinate in letting Tim help. The stupid suit must not have a single qualm with letting Tim wear it. Everything fits so damn well. There’s only so much reshaping the suit can usually do given the difference in size between himself and others but whatever bullshit gives the suits a brain has pulled out all the stops to make it work.

Tim looks good in it. Still short although the heels on the boots are higher. The extra armoring pads Tim’s form, making him look bulkier than he is but the suit nips in at the waist. He’s pretty damn sure the tac pants aren’t supposed to be that tight, either. Tim tosses the helmet from hand to hand under Jason’s scrutinizing eyes before popping it on.

“Wow, okay, I want one of these,” Tim says through the voice modulator. The mechanical growl has a shiver running down Jason’s spine. Because he keeps his apartment cool and there’s a draft somewhere he hasn’t fixed yet, of course. “The tech in this thing.”

“Great for concussion prevention, too.”

“I’m hoping to not put that to the test.”

“Yeah, try not to. You’re still smaller than me, shrimp, so keep moving and maybe nobody will notice.”

Pulling the hood off, Tim glares at him. “I’m not that much smaller.”

“You’re like, what, a buck forty soaking wet?”

Huffing, Tim puts the helmet on again. “Excuse me while I prove that doesn’t matter.”

“Go off,” Jason cheers flatly.

Tim flicks him off while he walks back towards the window. “Just getting in character,” he says as he gracefully slides back out onto the fire escape.

I am so very, very fucked, Jason thinks with no small amount of dismay. There’s only so much a mantra of ‘Don’t stress, repress’ can do and it’s getting really hard to ignore the way he’s been responding to Tim. Doesn’t mean he’s not going to keep trying to savagely squash what he’s starting to suspect may be the beginnings of attraction.

It all comes to a head when Tim asks him to partner up on a counterfeiting case. The request shouldn’t have surprised him. After Tim successfully patrolled Park Row as Red Hood, reporting no issues, they’ve been crossing paths more often. On one occasion, the tracker Jason stuck to a mobster’s car brought him to Tim instead. By some stroke of luck, Tim was tailing the same guy so, aside from the momentary hiccup, the takedown went smoothly. Then Tim’s grapple jammed when they were set to part ways another night after running into one another. Jason ended the night red faced and unable to think of anything but Tim’s arms wrapped tightly around his neck, hanging on for dear life, as he flew them back to Tim’s bike.

A few weeks ago, he’d ended up battered, bruised and bleeding in some dark, dank alley in the East End. Willingly, Jason hailed Tim for an assist. Tim got him to a safe house and patched him up efficiently. The weird thing is, Tim’s cape was being weird. Sure, that makes him sound slightly insane and maybe a civilian would think so but Jason has been a mask for what seems like half of forever now. He knows these suits. So, the way Tim’s cape had fallen around them, stretching itself so it covered the both of them to create a safe, quiet space all their own, was suspicious. Then it got really suspicious when Tim tried brushing it aside to get some better lighting while doing the stitches but the cape kept somehow slipping over his back to go back to embracing the both of them.

There isn’t a single doubt in Jason’s mind that Red Robin was a plain,ol’ regular mass of fabric when Jason got it. None. He’s starting to suspect that isn’t the case anymore which is only cemented when they walk into the hotel room they booked for the night to serve as a base of operations in New York while they follow a trail of counterfeit money.

See, Jason was right next to Tim in the car when he called the hotel and made the booking. He personally heard Tim ask for a room with twin beds and the front desk agent confirm there was one available. Then Tim had tossed his phone into his bag, the same one with his spare clothes and suit, and they’d blared hyper pop and grunge on the radio without a second thought. Jason vividly remembers pulling into the hotel parking lot and Tim grabbing his bag, fishing his phone out and frowning thoughtfully that the screen was on with his email open. After a cursory check, he’d shrugged it off and they got out to settle in.

Getting comfortable is going to be a Herculean challenge for Jason since there’s only one queen bed in the room.

Tim pauses in the entryway and blinks before glancing down at his key card, backing up to look at the room number and back down at the card again. “They must’ve made a mistake,” he says blankly.

Before Jason can put his two cents in, Tim shoves his bag into Jason’s arms and snatches up Jason’s key card. Tim books it back down the hall towards the front desk. Which, okay, that’s fine. All’s the better because Jason will literally go insane if he has to share a bed with Tim. Years of freezing on the streets taught him to gravitate towards whatever heat source possible. Including people he trusts in his general vicinity when he’s sleeping. He simply won’t survive waking up with Tim as his personal teddy bear.

Storming into the room, Jason throws Tim’s bag onto the bed and yanks it open. He opens the hidden pocket where Red Robin is neatly folded and glares down at it.

“I don’t know what your game is, but cut that shit out,” Jason hisses at the suit. It doesn’t move but Jason gets the distinct impression it’s smug. Or he could be projecting. Can regular suits gain consciousness? Is that a thing? Doesn’t matter, not like anyone is around to judge him for talking to a maybe, maybe-not inanimate costume. “Seriously. I brought you into this world, I can take you out of it.”

Jason doesn’t get the opportunity to further threaten the Red Robin costume. A harried looking Tim pops back into the room, two key cards in hand. When he looks at Jason, he seems a little lost.

“This was the only room they had left,” Tim tells him, tone carefully calm and even. “There’s some business conference going on.”

He swallows hard and nods, remembering a couple news articles he’d read through on it before leaving. “Okay, yeah, no problem.” There’s no couch either. Just a dresser, nightstand, bed, desk and one of those armchairs with cushions hard enough to use as a bludgeoning weapon. “I’ll take the floor?”

Tim doesn’t look at him but his face pinches in distaste at the idea. “No, it’s fine. We can share, right?”

“Nah, it’s alright, I’ll take the floor,” Jason insists.

Now Tim looks him in the eye and the steely determination takes Jason by surprise. “I can’t even fathom what the stains on this carpet are and there’s no padding. You’ll wake up an aching mess and be useless on the mission tomorrow. We can share the bed,” he says firmly.

Well, what is Jason supposed to say to that other than, “Good point. Bedfellows it is.”

The time they spend organizing their things and then getting ready to lie down is just as awkward as Jason thought it would be. On no fewer than five occasions, Jason nearly calls the whole thing off. There were other hotels in the area, right? Not all of them could possibly be full from the corporate HR consulting conference being held in town. Anything would be better than the fragile silence between them.

He doesn’t though. The thought of backing out like a yellow bellied coward had his gut souring and his mood shifting from placid dread to irritation. Each time the impulse comes up, he kicks it to the recesses of his mind along with every budding fantasy of what the night may bring. It’s getting pretty cluttered in that dark corner of his mind.

Tim doesn’t appear to be quite as affected. Some of his movements are stilted and he’s giving Jason a wider berth than normal but otherwise he does his own thing while Jason does his. If Jason weren’t harboring an incredibly inconvenient crush, he’d even say things were companionable. But he is, so suffocatingly uncomfortable atmosphere for him. Woe is his life, seriously.

Those feelings of giddy anticipation and mounting horror go sharply into focus as he and Tim, dressed down for bed in sleep shirts and comfortable pants, stare at one another from either side of the bed. Tim has a corner of the blanket in his hand, fiddling with a loose thread on the side of it. Otherwise, he’s completely still and everything he’s thinking is locked up tight behind the pale blue of his eyes. Jason can’t help but fidget too, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he feels a prickle of embarrassment slithering down the back of his neck. This is the weirdest game of semi-gay chicken he’s ever engaged in.

Jason breaks first if only to end the game. Grabbing the edge of his blanket, Jason tosses it back before flinging himself onto the bed. After a brief shuffle, he gets himself covered up to the chin with the blanket and his back facing Tim. Carefully, slowly, Tim crawls in beside him with much less flair and flourish. The blanket tugs for a second before settling again. While the bed is a good size, Jason isn’t exactly your average guy. Despite his best efforts to get as far away as he can, he can still feel Tim’s warmth brushing against his back like a phantom caress.

Man, sleep isn’t happening. He may as well get up and do some more research on the case or something. Screwing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, Jason wrestles with himself on if he should ditch the idea of sharing the bed and how he can get out of it without being overtly disrespectful.

#tim drake #jason todd #dc comics #jaytim #dc #timjay #red hood #red robin #wicked writes #or at least tries to #i'm doing my bestest #imagine the poor tumblrians here for the elf on the shelf joke and they find this

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lavender-jukebox · 1 year ago

Note

How about parental decepticon stuff? I like the episodes where Tarantulas and Starscream end up as mentor figures

I love this idea...I hope I did it right-

Characters are Starscream, Soundwave, Tarantulas, Shockwave, Breakdown

(Reader is human btw-)

Enjoy!

Starscream

Will gladly answer any questions you have about himself or about the history of Cybertron

He's protective of you weither you're bot or human.

he'll take you for flights in his cockpit when you've had a bad day and let's you vent whatever you need to.

He tries his best to be a role model for you but thinks because he was a decepticon he isn't good at it

You two have deep talks about the past and listen to eachother

Seems like he doesn't care for platonic cuddles but actually loves them

Likes to praise you for things you've done

Gives headpats

If you ever do anything that could involve you getting hurt, get ready for a stern lecture and a shit tone of scolds when you explain your reasoning

He just wants you to be safe and happy :)

Soundwave

Probably the most parental decepticon out of them all

NEVER let's you out of his sight and insists you either stay beside him or sit on his shoulder

Gets a little worried if you and Frenzy ever rough house (cause you is a fleshie)

If you wanted, he would teach you how to hack

Has unlimited patience and you test this. All the damn time.

He always knows when's somethings up, but won't force you to tell him if you don't want to

If you want any affection he'll give it to you

VERY PROTECTIVE and will kick someone's ass if they lay a atom on you

He can be stern in more serious situations but doesn't intend to make you upset

If you're ever hurt he goes into mom mode and patches your injuries no matter what size

Likes it when you sit on his shoulder and blabber nonsense. He's all ears to hear what you have to say, no matter how stupid it seems

Tarantulas

Questions himself how he "adopted" a human but goes with it

Always keeps you within a distance where he can pluck you up if he senses danger

If you're energetic he'll let you climb and swing from his extra limbs

Some days you can convince him to play hide and seek

If he sense someone coming, he has a tiny burrow hole your size and hides you in there

A little paranoid if you leave the lab that G.H.O.S.T might find you so you have a little living space

Likes to poke you with his extra legs to make you giggle

Will teach you new things and walk you through whatever inventions he's making

Is happy if you offer to help him

More than happy to comfort you in a situation and has many limbs to hug you better

Shockwave

He's like the strict dad who has eyes on the back of his head

Ironic for someone with only one eye but-

When you try and sneak out the lab or go for a walk, he'll ask where you're going or what you're doing without even turning

If you give him sass, he'll sass you back and you guys have a lot of playful bickers

Basically "home schools" you but not really

Just teaches you something new every day

Seems like he hates affection but will hold you in his hand or let you fall asleep on him as he works in the lab

Listens to every word you say and gives suggestions to help

You stump him all the time with shower thoughts

He makes sure you're healthy and makes you drink 8 cups of water a day as well as eating meals

Does not take no for an answer

Doesn't matter if you're 10 or a grown ass adult, he'll put you in a corner for time out

Oh he knows you're too old he just does it cause he's petty like that

Breakdown

Not the best influence but definitely one of the more fun ones

He'll take you on energon runs as he explains to you not to turn out like him

Takes you to an empty street or raceway to absolutely speed

He cracks dad jokes all the time.

If you have a bad day he'll try to make you laugh by jokes or something

He's protective of you to the point where when he knows the littlest thing of G.H.O.S.T in the area, yall are gone

Teaches you how to fight in case of an event where he cannot be there for you

Doesn't mind carrying you or letting you sit on his shoulder

He might be a douche sometimes and moves the shoulder you're on to catch you off guard

Laughs when you swear

I wouldn't say he's like a parent but more so a parent / big brother type of guy

=========================

#earthspark #tf earthspark #transformers earthspark #starscream #starscream x reader #earthspark starscream #soundwave #soundwave x reader #earthspark soundwave #tarantulas #tarantulas x reader #earthspark tarantulas #shockwave #shockwave x reader #earthspark shockwave #breakdown #breakdown x reader #earthspark breakdown

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skittles-secrets · 11 days ago

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his (adoptive) brother's best friend - jason todd x afab reader (he's your roommate/frenemy)

what to do when dinner

one week later…

you and jason had been.. weird lately. usually, it would be him making fun of your little grammar mistakes, or you making fun of how he talks, or you being absolutely and utterly afraid of him most of the time. that was the normal you.

he hasn’t made fun of you in a good week. when did it change? when you called him for a ride? why would that even change anything. maybe it wasn’t, and you were just looking into something that didn’t have to be looked into like you always did when there was even the littlest thing you didn’t understand.

either way, tonight, you’re on dinner duty. that would be great and all, but… you don’t have any food. it was your turn to shop for groceries, but you hadn’t because you had been so busy and broke lately that none of that was even an option. you stared into the empty fridge with a frown.

you looked around. jason was sitting comfortably on the couch. “don’t hear any movement in there, what’s the holdup?” he asked. he said it in a stern way, but you knew he was only joking.

“uhh.. funny story… no food?’ you said, quizzically even though you knew exactly what you were talking about.

you heard a sigh, but then clothed footsteps padding towards you in your aid. he was always very heavy-footed, so you always knew when he was coming to you. it was a weird way to think, but he really had always been doing that ever since his death and moving in with you.

his death.. such a heavy topic. you knew he could joke about it now, but you also knew how much it must hurt him to talk about something so serious so casually. he must be such a strong man, to be okay with going through all that stuff and still having some kind of normalcy in his life.

“what do you mean no food? there’s literally frozen pizza right there.” he pointed out, opening the freezer door. you grumbled a little. you mumbled and groaned about it as you took the box out of the freezer.

“urghhh, but i don’t even like this kind, it’s like all sauce, it’s nasty..” you said dramatically. jason rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t planning on forcing you to eat something you didn’t want. he knew you weren’t typically picky, so if this was bad enough for you to groan about, it must be up there on your top hated foods.

he put your movements to a halt with a hand on the box. he took it from your fingers and threw it away. “oh.. okay, that’s one way to make me starve..” you said lightheartedly. you figured he must have a plan because no-plan jason wouldn’t ever pass up on pizza, even the gross, all-sauce, frozen one.

“no, don’t be like that, what about bagel pizzas?” he asked. so clever. leave it up to the guy that had to scramble for food to come up with pleasing suggestions. you nodded, ready to help. you got out everything that was needed; bagels, sauce (the bad kind from a can but its still better than the bad kind from the freezer), and shredded cheese.

jason’s muscles got to work when he brought out the toaster oven. you guys haven’t used that like.. ever. “okay, you know what you’re doing now, cupcake?” he used the nickname mockingly rather than nicely, as per usual. you agreed because it was your turn to make dinner, anyways. jason was so innovative.

the ingredients needed were basically the last of what you had left, unless you consider three-day-old fast food leftovers from your outings with your best friend, dick, good food. you tried your best to make it as good as possible.

you messed up the sauce on one of the bagels slightly, putting significantly too little on it. you gave jason the good one. your brain figured that he deserved it after his bright ideas and quick thinking saved the night and since he didn’t let you starve. safe to say, you both ate nice fulfilling bagel meals for dinner that night.

m.list | prev. part | next part (thank you so much for 50 followers)

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tylersocaskblog · 2 years ago

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Oc askblog

There are main OC’s you can ask and secondary, however ill only list a few with descriptions then leave the rest just with names and you can still leave asks for them just there personalities will be more unknown.

Main

Tammy: he is very random, often having mood swings and uncontrollable emotions. He is sensitive to noise and is diagnosed with adhd and autism. He is playful and silly most of the time and weird as well. He has an anger problem and breaks things too but he always apologizes.

Calvin: hes arrogant and often thinks of himself, he wishes to be better but he doesnt know where to start. He often argues with friends but never with his mother though. He likes to act tuff but often cries when alone, he needs others. He is aswell an extravert, socializing when given the chance.

Laurence: he was homeless when younger but now stays with Calvin, he doesnt consider them family and barely even friends, hes cold but shy, easily getting embarrassed by the littlest of things, hes kind to strangers but harsher to friends especially during DnD. He thinks first even if being a little too harsh for his own good. Hes introverted and doesnt like to talk, he instead writes of a whiteboard.

Oscar: he feels replaced but he acts kind to nearly all, besides Tammy and Calvin, he gets along well with Laurence and they often talk amongst themselves of random things such as world domination. Hes strong and hardly ever cries, he brags of his wealth to poorer classmates and often steals when given the chance.

Secondary

Ryder: He is Oscars bestest friend, he’s loud and dirty(physically)… but is of course dirty minded too. He trashes on smaller kids but stays clear on taller and bigger ones. He likes to decorate the school with graffiti(and other places too) and it pains the janitors to have to clean it.

Zander: formally being a man who was in shapes of mostly triangles adjusting to being ‘human’ has been tough for him, he may have had a human form beforehand but it was always untouched. When at home he returns to his more triangular side to rest. He is serious but so incredibly kindhearted its hard not to like the rich man.

Alistair: Alistair is Zander’s bestest friend and hes been assisting Zander with his human form. Alistair is also Zander’s gaurdian angel and it took the two a bit to adjust as Zander has never met a ‘dead’ person before. Alistair is sweet and a big fan of romance, he wonders if he’ll ever find the one he’ll love most but he already has, poor guy doesn’t even know it.

Others

Faris

Myles

Penelope

Stanley

Shawn

Candice

Chester

Felix

Ron

Gladwin

Humphrey

Philip

Spot

Reef

FunSun(and friends)

Tim

Tom

Racso

Billy the silly

#oc tag #ocs #oc art #oc ask blog #tammysocblog

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avam · 2 years ago

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We sat on my floor. I was glad to have swept while he was out on call. He told me about finding out that his ex-wife was dating, how he struggled with jealousy, how it helped when they actually talked about it. He'd mentioned that the guy lived in the States, but when he said it was Alabama, I started laughing.

"So she's dating a..."

"A hillbilly! A Trump voter. Baby, she's dating a _swamp person_" I tipped backwards, stared up at the ceiling. "She voluntarily traveled to Birmingham, Alabama, to date a redneck."

"She didn't tell me why, at first. Like she told me she wanted to live a single life, and the first time she went she had this story, that one of her friends had a house down there, but the second time, I was like, 'Don't you want to go to Europe or something?'"

"To be fair, Birmingham is the Europe of north-central Alabama."

It felt good to make him laugh.

Then he said that he was working up the courage to ask me about what I was looking for, and we waded in. Some of it was rehashing, but we got bolder with what we shared. I told him about how I'd decided I wanted to date a woman, and how, lonely and sad, I ended up checking the "man" box on Hinge, and how I wasn't seeing anyone else right now but was having a hard time with the idea of getting into something serious with another man and letting that plan languish. We talked about polyamory. He told me the woman he'd been seeing in the fall was 46. He told me he'd started talking to someone else on another platform around the same time as me, and that he'd planned to reconnect with her towards the end of the month, and didn't know if he should reach out, and my heart dropped.

"I think I made some assumptions about what you wanted, based on how things have gone so far," I said, keeping my voice steady. No idea about my face.

"Well, I think that's one of the reasons we should have this conversation, to make sure our assumptions align with reality. So what did you assume?" (As an aside--I love that he goes to therapy, and that it shows.)

I worked very hard not to let it come out as a squeak, dropped my larynx. "I think I assumed that you'd want to date me long-term."

"Well, you assumed right, I do see that potential here. I would like to date you long-term, but I don't want to rush it."

My face twisted wryly. "Just a quick, uh, semantics note. I don't think you can rush that, I don't think that's how time works."

He laughed. "I just don't want to ask you to make any promises to me, not right away."

"No, but to be fair, I think a long-term relationship with me would look very different from your last long-term relationship. Like I'm not sure what those promises would even be?"

"It's true, and I definitely don't want to get in another long-term relationship like my last one! The thought of, you know, merging like that is very unappealing to me. I liked what you said about creating your own space, inviting people into that space. I think we're probably compatible in that way."

After, I shook out my shoulders, glanced at him quickly, decided.

"Ach, that was scary. That was a scary conversation. My heart just..."

"Do you want a hug?"

With my head nestled against his shoulder, he asked, "What were you feeling?"

"I mean, when you were talking about whether you were going to message that other girl or not, I just... You know, I want to work on feeling jealousy and possessiveness, and it just--OK. Have you ever been to Traffic Town at Parc Lafontaine? They set up this little former parking lot with like tiny stop signs and crosswalks and it's for little kids to learn about road safety, so they drive around in their little balance bikes or Cozy Coupes and practice stopping and being safe. And it was like that, like the smallest little challenge, the littlest test for jealousy and I just failed completely."

"You had a feeling of jealousy? Where in your body?"

"My abdomen, like my heart just fell into my stomach."

He named the region. "I feel it there, too. The gut-punch, right? But you're saying you failed because you had a feeling?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think it's failing to feel an emotion."

I poured myself some water. "Mmm, I'm pretty sure it's bad to have emotions, actually, Alex."

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fuckmymunson · 2 years ago

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Special thanks to @littlest-dark-age who brainstormed with me, shared their controversial yet brave opinions and is my bby Batty ♡. Go follow them!!! Or else.... 🔪

Virgin!Eddie because I want to fuck the shit out of him and make him blush♡. Basically pure dialogue, gonna make a longer fic later♡(〃ω〃)

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

"What?" Eddie frowns, with faux confusion. "Do I have something on my face?" He asks the table, who is looking at him with wide eyes, and judging by their reactions, he might as well grew up two heads.

"Very funny, Eds." Jeff snorts, poking his sandwich. "Don't expect us to believe you that easily."

"Don't know what'cha talking 'bout, dude." Eddie shrugs.

The bastard had the audacity.

For starters, his long wavy hair was tied up, and he never ties up his hair, less in a messy bun like he as rocking in that moment. His hellfire shirt was a couple sizes bigger, so the V line was lower, exposing some of his tattoos, and of course, along with his neck, the stars of the show.

A bunch of hickeys, bites, and what appear to be scratches, every here and there.

"Don't try to play us dumb, dude." Gareth laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. "You? Getting laid?"

"What?" Eddie now is actually pissed. "Excuse me?"

"Dude, we are the freaks, do you really expect us to believe you aren't a virgin anymore? And a fleshlight doesn't count."

"What's a fleshlight?" Dustin asks, tilting his hand and lowering his orange juice. Mike rolls his eyes and whispers something in his ear. "Ew! Eddie please tell me you don't have one of those."

"Yeah, toys don't count." Jeff adds. "And to get laid, you need to actually talk to girls, and you know girls don't even look at our direction."

"I beg your pardon?" Eddie places a dramatic ringed hand on his chest. "Not that's anyone's business, but I do have a girlfriend!"

The whole table bursts out laughing, so loudly that a few tables looked at them, confused and a bit annoyed. Eddie is furious now. Was it that hard to believe?

"Sorry, I didn't knew I was a comedian." His tone is dead serious. He crosses his arms over his chest pouting. "For your information, I do get laid, in fact, my fucking first time was better than whatever you'll ever experience in your pathetic lives."

"It's true!" Eddie chirps.

"Can we please have one lunch without fighting?" Mike complains and Eddie shows him his middle finger.

"You're just jealous I was the first one who's not a virgin anymore." Eddie opens his lunchbox, where he keeps his goodies, a few pens and an eraser, and a bag of cookies. "She is the prettiest woman in the whole school— In the world! And goddamn it she was wild and unstoppable, I swear I couldn't feel my legs..." He has the sudden urge to brag about it, even if he was nervous the whole time and you had to lead him through the whole experience. "She kept touching me, she's basically obsessed with me, you know, babes love me, I'm irresistible."

"C'mon dude, we believe you." Gareth says, which is an obvious lie, they weren't even trying to hide their mocking. "Sure, I'm sure your girl is really pretty."

"This girlfriend you're talking about, is in this room with us?" Jeff teases, making the whole table laugh again.

"You know what? Fuck off." Eddie rolls his eyes, of course they wouldn't get it, they still were a weak group of virgins. He stands up violently, his back colliding with someone behind him.

"Hey!" You say, frowning. "Watch it, Munson."

"Shit!" He exclaims, helping you get on your feet. "Sorry princess, wasn't paying attention."

"Whatever." You reply, smiling. "Here." You hand him a hello kitty lunchbox, bright and pink. "I brought you lunch, I know you never eat."

"Thanks, peaches." Eddie smirks and kisses your cheek, wrapping and arm around your waist lovingly.

"Guys." He raises his voice, pleased at the starstruck faces of the rest of the hellfire club. "This is my girlfriend. Friends, girlfriend. Girlfriend, friends." Eddie kisses your cheek, making you giggle.

"Hi." You wave at them, smiling. "Eddie talks about you all the time!"

"So, you're really his girlfriend? Like, he asked you and all? Like, for real? A couple?" Jeff asks, and Gareth nods.

"Thank god the toy thing isn't real." Dustin sighs in relief.

"What toy?" You ask, looking at Eddie who just blushes and brushes it off.

"Nothin' babe, don't worry 'bout it. Yes, my fellow comrades, this beautiful woman right here is my girlfriend! My passionate lover, and the one who made me a man last night, if you know what I mean." Eddie winks and hooks a finger under his shirt, pulling it down, exposing even more hickeys and love bites. You gasp and smack him in the shoulder.

"Eddie! Shut up!"

"Now, I think someone owes me an apology..."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #virgin!eddie #eddie by omel!#eddie bittie babie #omenhel's little drabbles!

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channiesposts · 2 years ago

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bang chan nsfw alphabet

felt like i wanted to do smth like this bc i’m stressed and sad abt life and i think writing helps me not think abt the bad things in life <3 lmk if you want this w other members, bad things are constantly happening so i’ll have enough inspiration lmaoo <3333

don’t think i’m gonna add a warning but obvi mdni!! thank u <3

a - aftercare

chan is such a softie, i am too just for him. no matter how rough he gets, he’ll make sure you’re properly cleaned up, hydrated, and calm before letting you go to sleep. this guy is the sweetest person ever, his aftercare will be reflective of that.

b - body part (their face body part of theirs & their partners)

his favorite body part of his is probably his arms or abs. he works hard on them, he’s proud of them. his fave body part on his partner would probably be…everything. idk man, i think he wouldn’t be able to choose just one part he likes about you. if anything, he’d probably say your eyes. or your ass.

c - cum (anything to do with cum)

i’m glad that everyone here makes things abt chan having a breeding kink bc that is it! i feel as if he doesn’t really care much about cum. his own, specifically. he’ll cum anywhere. and he won’t mind if he’s just cum inside you or in your mouth. he’ll still eat you out / kiss you.

d - dirty secrets

i feel like his biggest dirty “secret” is his breeding kink. he knows that it’s smth not a lot of people enjoy. i think his biggest “secret” though is that he has a special little photo album of pictures of you that he jerks off to. he’s also a big pillow guy iykyk

e - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i saw someone say that he isn’t necessarily experienced but i think he has a good amount of experience. not tooooo much, but he has enough experience to know what he’s doing. he’s a quick learner as well, so he’ll experiment doing something once and get the hang of it. he fs knows what he’s doing.

f - favorite position

missionary. he loves doing other positions as well, but he’ll always somehow come back to missionary. he loves just looking at you, especially when he’s fucking you just how he likes. he also does like it when you’re on top, especially in the studio.

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment or are they more humorous)

chan has his moments. since sex is such an intimate experience, and considering how rough he can get, it’ll mostly be a bit more serious, but there are times where it’s a little more giggly.

h - hair (how well groomed are they?)

fuck it if i knew, he doesn’t really care about hair ig.

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? romantic aspect)

this man has had casual one night stands and i stand by that! but, he does like it to be a little more romantic. he’d prefer to have an actual connection w someone but a man’s got needs.

j - jack off

busy busy people have to rely on themselves sometimes. he does it a moderate amount, especially when you’re not around.

k - kink (one or more of their kinks) ((all giving))

we’ve got the breeding kink down. feel like he’s into choking, perhaps sadism (very very slightly). feel like he’s into a bit of humiliation. he’s got a vvv dirty mouth. idk, these are the first ones to come to mind.

l - location (favorite places to do the deed)

in your apartment. he likes to take his time w u most times, so he’ll want to do it somewhere more private, where he can’t actually take his time.

m - motivation (what turns them on and gets them going?)

anything you do turns him on. i saw a post once about how chan loves manicures and painted nails and i think that’s smth that needs to be talked about more. he sees you got a manicure and immediately, no matter how ashamed he is of that though, thinks abt how your manicured hands would look around his cock. he also loves seeing you in crop tops. honestly, he gets turned on by the littlest things you do. you can look at him and he’ll want to fuck you into next week.

n - NO (something they wouldn’t do, ever)

don’t think he’s that into piss stuff. idk the name for it but we know what i mean. tbh, besides that, i don’t think there’s not much he wouldn’t be willing to try at least once. he’ll try it once, decide it’s not for him, and move on.

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

prefers giving. he just love seeing what his mouth can do for you. he loves receiving, he loves seeing you on your knees for him, having him just the way you can. but there’s smth abt having you lay there while he’s pleasuring you. seeing your face, seeing the way you squirm, the way you chant his name over and over again. saw somebody once say he’s a pleasure dom and i will die on that hill as well.

p - pace (are they fast or rough? slow and sensual?)

he can be both. he has those days where he will be rougher, will make you call him daddy, will edge you for hours. but he also has days where he just wants to show you that he loves you. he’ll be much more gentle, constantly kissing your face, holding you, and telling you he loves you whenever he catches his breath.

q - quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

busy busy people have to rely on quickies sometimes. he’s always so consumed with work and the way they’ve been working, it doesn’t allow him to spend as much time with you as he would like. i don’t think he’s that into public sex, etc but he will drag you into the nearest closet or bathroom and take out his frustrations that way.

r - risks (will they experiment? do they take risks?)

definitely experiments. definitely takes risks. it def takes a couple of times to get him to fully take risks but once he gets there, he will make you dizzy w all the suggestions he has.

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he’s learned to control himself so he can cum with you, after he edged you for hours. he can last a long long time. it depends on his mood, when it comes to how many rounds he can go. some days, he’s down for one, two rounds. some days, he can go for what seems like hours and hours and hours.

t - toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

don’t think he has any toys he uses himself. but if you have toys, he’ll be more than happy to use them on you. won’t do a lot with them but will definitely bring them out once in a while.

u - unfair (how much they like to tease)

i live and breathe the bang chan being a tease agenda. he teases on his lives, who’s to say it doesn’t bleed into his actual life? he teases a LOTTT. sometimes it’ll be for what feels like hours, bc it probably has been. he loves edging you and will continue his teasing until he feels like you’ve had enough. or when he’s had enough and he needs to find his own release.

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

i don’t think he’ll be the loudest person but you’ll definitely hear him groan and moan a handful of times in one night. usually just heavy breathes. he knows it drives you insane when he groans right in your ear so, position permitting, he will definitely lean down to let out the loudest grown right by your ear.

w - wild card

jealousy sex with chan. i will not explain any further.

no but he isn’t the type to get jealous but the days that he does see somebody get a bit too close to you or whatever else, he will fs show you exactly how he feels during the night.

he’ll make sure you wear that pretty little butt plug while he viciously pounding into you. he’ll be saying all sorts of things under his breath before he flips you over. will take one look at you like that, spreading you apart and looking at what is his. a breathy laugh leaves his mouth.

“you really are my cockslut, aren’t you? letting me use all your holes, knowing you love every bit of it”

x - xtra piece of imagination

dirty talk with him gets a hell of a lot dirtier when he’s about to cum. will be saying all sorts of things.

“want me to fuck you full, yeah? gonna take every single bit of me. fuck, look at this baby. look at how you’re taking me in.”

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he’s in his mid 20’s so it’s calmed down a lot but it’s hard to be around you, see you looking like that, and not want to do something with you.

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep after)

my insomnia twin 🙌🏼 jk but i think he’d fall asleep after you fall asleep. he makes sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about sleep. in the meantime though, he is rubbing your back and making sure you’re at ease, hydrated, and just feel good.

edit : x is originally x ray but i didn’t feel comfortable with saying how “big” he is and all that. ik my blog is all about talking abt how much of a whore i am for bang chan but i personally have a limit and i think it’s talking about how big he is. i’ve written stuff about him fucking you into next week but i really do draw the line at like “oh how big is he” or “how many veins”. i’ll talk about him being “big” when it comes to a lil drabble but other than that, nope. idk if this boundary is reasonable or not but i just can’t see myself writing about it. sorry if this disappointed you :,(

#bang chan #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #bang chan hard hours #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan smut

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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

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dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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spaceskam · 3 years ago

Text

woke me up from the longest dream

Summary: Alex and Michael follow up on a lead and find something powerful.

Tags: canon compliant (for the most part), visions, road trips, my deep sky still sucks agenda

ao3

"Why is it so fucking cold?"

"Welcome to Montana," Alex said dryly.

Michael made a face and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was doing his best to be mature about Alex inviting him on this trip. It was another loose lead he found and he was irritated that he didn't find it until after he came back home. Michael had offered to help after a grueling time in self-induced misery and Alex had agreed and he had planned to use this time to show Alex how much he'd grown.

However, there was something about being alone with Alex that made him feel a little like he hadn’t.

"Are you not cold?"

"Didn't we deduce that your species is from a really cold planet due to your body temperature and the clothing Tripp described they were wearing?" Alex asked back.

Michael was used to a vaguely snarky Alex, it was in his genetic makeup. This was a different level though. Alex was in one of the worst moods Michael had ever seen him in that didn't result in a fight, instead it was all icy silence and irritated answers. Michael wasn't sure if it was because of his breakup with Forrest or if it was something else entirely. Maybe it was the fact that Michael was here at all.

He decided to keep quiet.

"You got me," Michael said, taking slightly bigger strides to keep up with Alex.

They were in a small town that served as a hub for a few even smaller towns that surrounded it. It had one small stretch of road with all the local businesses in it, a shabby hotel, a diner, and a farmer's market being the three biggest options. There were a couple others buildings, but Michael couldn't say what they were by just looking at them from the outside.

Alex seemed to know where he was headed though and he waltzed up to a building that was only identifiable by a sign that was meant to say CORRIE'S but was missing a few letters and said CORE instead. He pushed the door open and Michael followed. The inside had the heater blasting in a way that immediately smothered him, but he managed to keep his face even. It looked like a convenience store with only three rows of shelves in the middle. A sign at the back door read GAS PUMP IN BACK. Michael thought that was bad advertising.

"Hello," an older woman at the counter greeted. She seemed to be the only one here.

"Hey," Alex said, approaching her and turning on an easy smile. Logically Michael just knew he was being charming to get what he came here for. Illogically, it felt like Alex could be nice to everyone but him.

How many times could he tell himself to grow up?

"What can I help you two with?" she asked.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this place is owned by someone who used to live in Fort Belknap?" Alex said, not even beating around the bush to charm her more. That was the only thing to convince him it wasn't just him.

The woman stared at him, face unchanging.

"Who's asking?"

"Holt," Alex said, smiling and tilting his head a little bit, "Carla Holt, to be more specific."

She breathed in and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them a few moments later.

"Their timing has always been impeccable," she said, gesturing towards a door behind her, "Come."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael whispered to him as they followed. Alex grabbed his arm and squeezed, nearly causing Michael to fully trip over air.

"Just follow my lead. Stay quiet," Alex explained quietly, "I'll tell you later."

And Michael did as he said.

"You must be the littlest Manes boy," the woman said as she led them into a little office. It was cluttered and didn't really seem like the top secret place Michael was imagining.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Corrie," she corrected, "I never did like the sound of ma'am."

"Alright," Alex said, laughing lightly even though didn't reach his eyes, "My mother told me the same thing."

"I bet so," Corrie said, digging through messy drawers of a desk. She sat down heavily into the beat up chair and started digging through a file cabinet. "I kept telling myself it'll eventually come and bite me in the ass, carrying secrets for someone I only hear from once every few years, but you never know what you're getting yourself into until after you're stuck."

"Yeah, I know how that feels," Alex sighed. Michael's eyes drifted to him. He avoided eye contact completely.

"I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting you. Your brother, maybe. Part of me expected your father to bust down my door more than anyone," she went on. Corrie pulled out a small box and opened it, looking in and making a face before closing it and tossing it over her shoulder.

"Guess I'm the sucker who agreed to clean up duty."

Corrie laughed.

Truly, Michael expected more danger and more difficulty. He expected a fight or at least tension. Instead, Alex and Corrie made small talk about their shitty affiliations while Corrie dug through decades worth of clutter. Eventually, she pulled out a box and opened it and took a deep breath. She closed it again before giving it to Alex and Alex didn't reopen it so Michael had no idea what was in it. All he knew was that it went into Alex's bag.

"Thank you "

"Keep it safe," Corrie said, "Keep yourself safe." Then for the first time her eyes drifted to Michael. "You too. There aren't many of you left."

It was hot in the building, but somehow Michael felt like he'd jumped in ice water.

"Thank you."

"Mhm. Now get the hell out of my store before somebody follows you."

"Of course. Thank you again," Alex said politely and then he did as she said, turning on his heel and walking away. Michael wanted to stay and ask more–if she knew what he was, maybe she knew things he didn't and they could get rid of Mr. Jones–but Michael simply followed Alex's lead.

"Alex," Michael said, nearly having to jog to keep up. Alex opened the door of the store and a blast of cold hit Michael in the face, colder than before due to the extreme warmth inside. It took him a moment to reboot his mind enough to finish what he was saying. "Alex, what's in the box?"

Alex managed to close his eyes and shake his head in disapproval without slowing his pace.

"Can you wait until we get to the hotel?" Alex asked, cold again. Michael nodded despite the fact Alex couldn't see him, deciding that a verbal answer probably would be annoying in itself.

The problem with silence was that it was a sure way to get Michael to spiral. He had discovered very recently that being alone when he wanted to be alone the most was the worst idea. Now, he didn't want to be alone as much as he wanted answers. Walking in silence down a street while wondering what was in Alex's bag, who Carla Holt was, why Alex was angry, etc, etc, etc, was only making his mind race.

By the time they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, Michael was sure that Alex had just borrowed a bomb from an old lady and he was going to explode himself and whoever Carla Holt was was going to hunt Michael down in revenge. He of course didn't say that. Instead, he tapped his foot as Alex requested a room with two queens and didn't realized that the worker snorted because he was assuming they were two queens until after they were already heading to the room.

"Should I go spit in his drink?" Michael asked when he realized.

"No," Alex said, "You'd probably make it taste too sweet."

Michael again found himself stumbling over nothing and he looked at Alex, wondering what the hell was he talking about. But it was the nicest thing he'd said to him the whole trip and Michael decided to take it very personally.

"You sayin' I'm sweet?" Michael asked, grinning. A smile pulled at Alex's mouth that he very quickly schooled, slowing as he came to their room.

"I'm saying your saliva, and probably your other bodily fluids, have a higher concentration of a glucose-like chemical," Alex said, "As proved by Kyle and Liz when we got drunk."

"You guys drunkenly tested our saliva's glucose levels?" Michael asked, laughing a little. Alex finally speaking to him made his brain stop wandering as much. Not completely–he was still wondering about that box–but enough.

"We were talking," Alex said, unlocking the door with the keycard, "And noticed we all thought you three tasted sweeter than other people we'd kissed and, well, you know. So we did some tests."

"That's... Interesting," Michael said, letting the door close behind them.

Alex walked over to the bed closest to the door and carefully sat his bag down. Michael watched him, staying near the door. He was still unsure about where they stood. He knew Alex cared about him and he knew Alex didn't hate him, but he was also still holding him at arm's length. And then there was that box. He didn't want to push.

But Michael wasn't known for his patience.

"Alex," Michael said, "What's in that box?"

Alex swallowed and looked up at him for a moment before patting the bed beside him. An invitation. One that made Michael's stomach drop and twist in 11 knots. But he walked closer, sitting beside Alex. Alex stared at him, his features slowly loosening up to betray his feelings. His eyebrows pulled together in that kind of worry that meant he felt like he was drowning, scrambling to pull himself to the surface and never able to get a good grip. Which would explain the coldness, he supposed.

"You know you can trust me, right? I'm... I'm working on not being so self-destructive, and, like, knowing I'm helping you out kinda helps when I feel shitty," Michael said. Alex huffed a small laugh and shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment. When he looked Michael in the eye again, he was back to being serious.

"I did something stupid," Alex said, softly like it was a secret, "I agreed to something without knowing what I was getting myself into. And I'm kind of stuck right now."

"Stuck? What do you mean stuck?" Michael said, following his lead and whispering.

"I'm figuring it out, alright? Don't worry. I'll tell you later," Alex said, reaching out to squeeze his arm before dropping it back to the bed, "And I checked before we even left that I wasn't bugged and I've kept my eye out to know that we aren't being followed. And my computer definitely isn't. We're good. They're tracking me, but only to the extent I'm letting them. It's okay."

"That doesn't sound okay," Michael said.

"Trust me like I trust you, alright?" He said. Michael reluctantly nodded. "I need you to hold something for me."

Michael blinked. "The box."

"Yeah."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael asked. Alex smiled softly

"It's not a who, it's a what. It's a code from my mom's side of things. She knows more about the alien shit than she let on," Alex sighed, "I didn't stand a fucking chance not being involved with this shit. My dad, my mom, you. So, you know, if you ever feel bad about that, it's my fucking destiny."

Michael swallowed and nodded, feeling more eager by the second to know what was in that box. Needed to keep hearing Alex say how fated they were to know each other. Needed Alex to touch his arm again and smile.

"Okay," Michael said, trying to stay in his own space, "So we're fated. Cosmic connection. Called it."

Alex broke into a wide smile, genuine and welcoming as he shoved Michael's shoulder gently. "Shut up."

"Show me," Michael said instead. Alex's smile faded just a little.

"Do me a favor and double check our surroundings," Alex said. Michael nodded and tilted his head, sending a chair to lodge itself under the doorknob and pressed the curtains tightly to the wall. His eyes slid closed as he did a mental sweep of the building, not noticing anything out of order. When he opened his eyes again, Alex seemed to be closer. "Thanks."

"Show me."

Alex sighed and nodded, hesitantly reaching into his bag and pulling out the box. It was clear now that it was made of really nice wood, intricate carvings covering it. Alex handled it with an extreme care that Corrie didn't have with it. His eyes flickered between the box and Michael a few dozen times before he hesitantly opened it and Michael leaned closer to see.

"It's just a ring," Michael said, almost disappointed. It looked like a normal, silver band that was old and unpolished after years of being tucked away.

"Not just a ring," Alex said, he kept his fingers very precise as he picked it up. Michael didn't miss the way it seemed to ripple at his touch.

"Something alien," Michael acknowledged.

"Something alien," Alex confirmed, "Most of the glass and even the rocks that you've had so far all seem to be crafted and at least heavily altered by your people to be as useful as they are. This... This was passed down as a pure substance that was mined and cut into a wedding band to mimic human customs." Alex looked at him. "It pre-dates your mother landing here, Michael."

Michael let out a shaky breath, eager and hungry for knowledge for the first time in a long time. He'd poured over Tripp's journal over and over, poured over Caulfield and Project Shepard records, all of it painful and sickening with an unhappy ending. And now there was something new– old –that might actually give him something more. Proof that aliens were here before his mother, proof that there was a reason they came to Earth of all places. More secrets he craved to uncover. He missed the feeling.

"It's powerful and, as far as I can tell, the last of it left. The rest was probably destroyed with your planet. But it's old and... and sentimental. One of the older women on the reservation told me the sentimentality powered it more. Because it's not just a ring that symbolizes love or a bond between two people, but it's a new start. Blending the past they chose to leave behind together with something new and different. Safer and secure. Together," Alex said. Michael swallowed, eyes unable to break away from Alex's. Alex cleared his throat and looked back down at it. "That's what she said anyway. There was probably two at one point, but I'm sure the other is lost to time."

"Yeah, okay. Okay," Michael said, agreeing without hesitation, "I'll take care of it and keep it safe."

He went to grab it, but Alex pulled it out of his reach.

"Michael," he said, "When I say it's powerful, I mean the moment you put it on, something's going to… happen."

Michael hadn't really intended to put it on, but it seemed Alex knew him well enough to know that eventually he would.

"What kind of something?"

"I don't know, Michael. I just know legend says it has unspeakable levels of power. So, please, be careful with it. I'd prefer you do it with someone around in case it overloads you or something," Alex said. Michael didn't point out what Isobel had before–he was the only one who didn't have a limit.

"Why not just put it on right now?" Michael said, "We're in the clear and you're here. Why not?"

Alex breathed in and out, staring at him with that same worried, downing look. Michael selfishly enjoyed it for a few moments–enjoying that he cared that much. So he smirked and held out his left hand, feeling confident.

"Go ahead, Alex. Put a ring on it," he said. A smile pulled at Alex's lips that he fought, but he relaxed his shoulders and grabbed Michael's hand with his empty one.

Alex's hand was warm. Michael was sort of obsessed with the feeling of it. Why hadn't they been holding hands this entire time?

"I'm right here, okay? So if you need me to take it off or if you feel like you're going to lose control, let me know. Try not to throw me," Alex said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit how much power I have injected into me, I'm not going to hurt you," Michael said. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Physically. Come on now, cut me some slack."

"Maybe," Alex said, putting the ring closer. Michael could feel it now that it was millimeters away from his skin, the power of it overwhelming. And Michael was intrigued. "Ready?"

"Always."

Alex slid the ring onto his ring finger.

The wave of power hit him instantly and, before he could adjust, sent him into a mindscape. Or–he thought it was. The room was damp and dark, unwelcoming. Michael looked around for something, someone, but he was alone. It was crowded with things, though, inventions and technological structures. It looked like his own lair but significantly less familiar, less comforting.

“Michael?”

Michael turned towards the voice and saw Alex at the top of a ladder, staring down at him with a face that said he was doing everything to stay calm. He had red stains on his clothes. Michael stared at him, unsure what to do. Alex was down the ladder and centimeters away from him so quickly that it could only be achieved by him seeing something that wasn’t happening just yet.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, instinctually, “Where are we? What is this place?”

Alex looked around the room, his face betraying his pain before he met Michael’s eyes again. Then his hand was on Michael’s cheek with a warm and grounding presence. Michael’s heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“My research,” he sighed, “Half of it’s destroyed anyway. Let’s go.” Michael didn’t really think that sounded right. This didn’t feel like Alex’s space. He’d been in enough of Alex’s spaces before to know what they felt like. This wasn’t it.

“Your research?” he said. Alex gave him a look and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Stop that,” Michael said, his voice sounding more irritated than he meant. He could feel the anger in his body, but he didn’t know the source. “Stop not telling me things. You keep doing that. You need to tell me.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed, swallowing, “But we need to get out of here. I swear I’ll tell you once we get in the car. But we need to get out of here.”

“You promise you’ll tell me in the car?” Michael said. Alex nodded.

“I promise.”

They were upstairs just as fast as Alex had been downstairs. Michael saw blood. He turned his head to find the source, but Alex’s hand was back on his neck to stop him.

“Don’t look. Let’s just go to the car.”

“What, you tryna baby me?” Michael asked, “You know I’ve seen some shit.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex said, still leading him towards the door as his thumb dug slightly into the muscle on his neck, “Doesn’t mean I have to show you more.”

Michael sucked in a breath and he was thrown back into his body, the power from the ring still thrumming through him and teasing a possible second surge. It was old and unused and desperate to stretch out some of it's pent up energy.

Alex was there, staring at him and holding onto him. He was so close, so real, and so was that memory that was just in the opposite direction. Michael stared at him, taking him in.

"What happened?" Alex asked, hands squeezing his biceps. His hand started to slide up, but stopped at his shoulder. "Hey, you with me?"

"Yeah," Michael said, "I'm okay."

"What happened?"

"I think, uh," Michael breathed, swallowing. His throat felt dry again. The heat of the hotel seemed to work with the heat inside him; he was on fire in the best way. "I got, like, That's So Raven'd."

Alex blinked a couple times, his thumb moving in slow circles against his collarbone not too far from where it’d been moments ago in his vision. Michael wanted to let his eyes roll back into his head and just sink into the bed with Alex beside him and let this undeniable strength course through him.

"You saw the future?" he said, "Like one of Maria's visions?"

"I think so," Michael confirmed, "Only… mine wasn't of something bad. I mean, not really, anyway."

"What was it?" Alex asked.

Michael licked his lips, studying Alex for a moment. The ring on his finger fit perfectly as if it was made for him. The power it gave settled nicely in him, pulsing and eager to be used just a little bit more, but in a childish, playful way. It wanted to stretch after too many years being cooped up.

"Hey, I'm going to try to see something else," Michael said. Alex's eyes went wide as saucers.

"What? Tell me what you saw the first time," Alex pressed, his hand shifting just enough to cup the side of his neck. Michael layered his hand over his, feeling bold and unperturbed. At some point, they were going to get there. He was sure of that more now than ever.

And he wanted to see more.

" Michael ," Alex said, but Michael closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the power in the ring take him somewhere else.

And he was somewhere else.

He was standing at the end of a driveway. He looked around and tried to grab some sort of identifier, but all he saw was a house behind him and then a school bus headed towards him. It stopped in front of him, a kid stepping off and running towards him with a backpack almost as big as she was.

"Daddy!" the kid yelled and Michael tried his damnedest to act like he was meant to be here as the little body slammed against his legs for a welcoming hug. "Is Dad home yet? Can you tell him to get ice cream? I think we need ice cream."

"Oh, you think we need it?" Michael asked, walking with the kid towards the house. It felt natural, oddly enough.

"Yes," the kid said simply, running towards the door. She threw it open and Michael laughed and jogged the rest of the way. He could hear her already telling a story about school and he was trying to stay close enough to follow.

He walked into a foyer, pictures lining the wall. Family portraits.

Him and Alex. The three of them.

When Michael came back to his senses, Alex was right there again and staring at him without faltering. The ring was still alive, but it was at a sated hum now that it had been used a few times. He wondered how it would feel doing something he understood. He couldn’t wait to try.

“Hey,” Alex said, soft and comforting as he welcomed his weight. The vision he had was definitely not what he was looking for, he wanted to know more about Alex’s research and why it all felt so wrong and where the hell they were, but the second one…

“Hi,” Michael said, breathing and his eyes drifting down to his lips. Michael had experienced a lot of urges to kiss Alex before. Somehow this felt more dire.

“Please don’t do that again,” Alex said, “Maybe we should take it off.”

Michael shook his head carefully, eyes scanning him, “No, it feels fine now. It just needed to be used after being in a little box for decades. It’s good. Feels good.”

“Okay,” Alex said, still clearly hesitant. His fingers played with the hair at the back of Michael’s neck. There were two beds, but Michael was trying to figure out how to convince him to share one. They could fit. They’d shared smaller. “What’d you see?”

Michael breathed deep, wanting to get closer. He kept his hands to himself no matter how much he wanted to touch. He was being good. To get to where those visions said he was headed, he had to be good. Good for himself and Alex.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Michael said softly, “What are you researching? Who are you working with?”

Alex blinked once, twice before dropping his hand off of Michael. Which definitely hurt, but the fact that Alex didn’t move away definitely helped.

“What did you see?” Alex asked again, more pressing, “I know you saw that I’m researching something.”

Michael shrugged. He technically did, but he didn’t see anything identifiable. He didn’t know what it was. He would like to. Then again, he’d always wanted to know everything about Alex Manes.

“I didn’t see what,” Michael said, “I just saw that someone’s going to fuck with it. I think. I don’t know, we were in this basement looking thing and it felt really off and, and not like you, but you said your stuff was in it. And you had blood on you and when we went upstairs, there was more blood. But you said not to look. I don’t know what you did or what happened, but, like, if you told me, maybe we can prevent it getting that extreme.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment.

“You saw that both times?” Alex asked softly. Michael hesitated before shaking his head. “What else did you see, then?”

“Um,” Michael breathed, trying to think of the right words to say, “Uh. I don’t think, um…”

“ Michael.”

“Family portraits,” he said carefully, figuring that was easier to start with than a whole person who called them dad, “Like, ours. Um. I know we don’t belong in suburbia, but I guess we fucking get it anyway.”

He laughed. It wasn’t funny, but it was easier to say it like it was a joke. Alex looked at him, face confused.

“Suburbia? Like. White picket fence kinda thing?” Alex asked. Michael took a slow breath.

“I, uh, I didn’t see a fence, I was too focused on the‒” he stopped, licking his lips. Michael rubbed his thumb over the ring. It seemed to purr at the attention. Michael couldn’t wait to get back home and see what he could really do.

“On the what?” Alex prodded, reaching out to rest his hand on his leg and reigniting the contact. It felt so good. Michael really liked when he was touchy, it was his favorite thing about Alex.

“Um,” Michael breathed, feeling drunk off the attention and the ring all at once. He thought about lying, maybe that they were babysitting because that was close enough, but he was so tired of lies and half-truths and I’ll-tell-you-laters. “On the kid.”

Alex froze for a moment, “The kid?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, shrugging softly, “I, uh, I guess she was ours. She was calling us dad. Do we have any water? My throat is super dry.”

“I… I don’t think you’re seeing the future then, I’m never having kids. Do you realize how awful of a parent I would be? Awful. Neglectful. That’s not… And after I clearly fucking hurt people?”

“Maybe not,” Michael said, not about to argue right now. He was too busy feeling good. Alex kept his hand on his knee. “But whatever it was, it was good.”

Alex stared at him, quiet and clearly thinking things through. Michael let him. It was easier to give him space and time now. He’d gotten better at it before his visions, but they solidified to him that they were on a good path. It felt like they were making good choices and taking good steps. This was just a part of it.

Alex eventually took a deep breath, looked him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you what I’m doing, but you have to promise you’re going to stay out of it and trust me,” Alex said, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“And you’re gonna promise to be honest with me?” Alex said, “And stay safe. Like, seriously. Don’t be reckless just because. I know you.”

I know you.

“Yeah. I’m doing better now,” Michael said, stretching his hand out, “I am. But I’m… I’m tired of not doing shit together. Doing stuff separately always gets us in shitty situations, Alex, I wanna be a team. Can I be on your team?”

Alex swallowed and moved his hand up, tucking Michael’s hair behind his ear.

“Yeah. Be on my team. Let’s be a team,” Alex said. He shifted and Michael waited patiently, watching him. “Okay, so. Deep Sky. It’s… it’s got some good people, I think, but it’s overall fucked. I don’t trust anyone in there, but it’s where I’m doing my research. Sort of. So I’ll tell you.”

It almost felt too good to be true to hear, but he didn’t need the ring to know that Alex was being honest. It showed him anyway. Truthfulness radiated off of him in vibrant blues and whites. He didn’t even need to get in his mindscape to be sure of it. It was strange to feel like that was unnecessary, like his body didn’t need confirmation because it already knew. It didn’t feel like he was stepping off a ledge. He hoped Alex had the same confidence, wondered what would happen if he put the ring on him.

If Alex still felt like he was stepping off the ledge, he was going to be sure to catch every inch of him this time. No piece would hit the ground like all the times before.

He was going to make this work.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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writertitan · 4 years ago

Note

have you eve done the fluff alphabet before? They can be kind of long but I'd love to hear your thoughts on Levi!

this is so cute, i’ve never done a fluff alphabet! this is the one i’ve seen go around by @snk-warriors (so cute thank u for sharing)

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I think Levi is the type of partner who starts up a new hobby with a partner as a way of bonding with them. Like, the two of you just get super into candle-making together lmao. I think he’d want to spend most of his free time with his partner, even if it’s just in comfortable silence. He really appreciates feeling safe with his person and relishes in the mundane.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

I’ll say it before and I’ll say it again. Levi doesn’t really have a physical type. He really pays attention to people’s character first. He would really admire how his partner is constantly trying to be their best self, and admires their strength, and he thinks it’s beautiful that they can see the good in life, because it helps him see the good in life too. He would absolutely love the most random parts of your body, though. Maybe it’s your cheekbones, maybe it’s the shape of your hands. Something that he thinks is so unique to you.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Levi is not a man of many words a lot of the time, but he is a man of action. If his partner is feeling down in any way, he’s there physically to help you through it. Over time, he makes little mental notes of what seems to help and what doesn’t, so that he can continue doing the things that help you and stop doing the things that don’t. If you prefer just being held for a while, no talking, he catches on quickly and offers himself up. If you need to talk, he listens and makes sure you know you’re the only thing in the world he’s paying attention to at that moment. He’ll know how you’ve calmed yourself down in the past, before he was in the picture, and takes up that ritual himself. Did you make yourself some mac and cheese to cheer yourself up in the past? He knows the recipe now, too. Very action-based man.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Levi, especially canon Levi, has trouble envisioning any sort of long-term future for himself. He’s just living his life one day at a time and pushing through. However, with a partner in his life, he indulges himself with little visions of the future. Things like marriage, children, are blurry wishes to him tbh, not out of the question but things that he won’t allow himself to indulge in. They’re kind of a given if you’re serious, and that’s enough to satisfy him. But near-future things are things he often thinks about. He wants to live with his partner, wants to think about how they’ll spend their next anniversary, he often thinks about what you both will be doing together for the holidays. Those futures comfort him immensely.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I think it is actually rather equal with Levi. He has so much baggage of his own, that a partner willing to share the load would make him feel really safe. But, I think he’d subconsciously be more of the dominant figure. He dedicates himself to his loved ones, and would do anything for them, and his partner would feel that tenfold.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Levi definitely is an, “I’m too old for this shit” type of guy when it comes to fights with his partner lmfao. He’s not about the dramatics of fighting. I don’t think he’d really ever yell at his partner or vice versa. The fights would have a snarky energy - I can see him snapping at his partner sometimes, or making an infamous sarcastic remark when he’s irritated - but Levi would honestly rather just discuss the problem bluntly and get it out of the way. But my god, the man wouldn’t back down until it was all cleared up.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. I think Levi would be so thankful to have his partner in his life. He knows he’s a tough nut to crack, so having someone finally get through to him is scary but wonderful. He sees everything you do for him and I think he’d honestly be so emotional about even the littlest things, because he’s so used to taking care of everyone else. It’s almost uncomfortable for him to know that someone is unconditionally loving him, but he’s grateful he has that love. Never takes it for granted.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Per the above, Levi is a tough nut to crack, and I think it would take a really, really long time to fully open him up. Like, a really long time. Honestly, he may not ever completely open up about his past because it can be so dark, but that doesn’t mean that he would actively keep secrets from you. If anything, his partner would know him the best out of everyone. While he may keep some stuff about his past in the dark, everything else is no secret. He’ll tell you about his day, about what’s going on with his friends, all that good stuff.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think Levi with a partner would be a little softer, and a little more optimistic. I also think a big thing that Levi would change would be his ability to compromise (because I think it’s hard for him to compromise). He’d definitely be a lot happier and kinder to himself with a partner around. And, in private, he’d allow himself to be more vulnerable and actually show his emotions. Levi is a pretty level-headed person as well, and I think he would pass that trait on to his partner.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Levi is not a jealous person, but he’s very protective of his partner!! This is the hill I die on!!! He is always looking out for you, so if someone does hit on you, he watches to see how you react. If it’s funny to you, it’s funny to him, but if it’s creepy to you, then he’s already cracking his knuckles.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

I don’t want to roast this lovely man but I don’t think he’d be a great kisser at first LMAO. He’s so not used to being loved. Levi is touch-starved, confirmed on Tanny’s blog. I think the first kiss is okay at best, definitely awkward, and Levi definitely doesn’t really know what to do. He’s a quick learner, though. He’s a good kisser in no time, after learning how you like to be kissed, and after finally getting him to believe it’s okay to be affectionate.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

I picture it as word vomit (Levi’s version of word vomit tho, which is like, a couple of sentences). He’d confess his feelings for you once he just can’t physically keep the words in anymore. He’d definitely fight against it for a while but then the word vomit happens. I think, specifically, his first “I love you” would be quite intimate and very quiet, just a whisper in your ear when he finally realizes it. Realizing he loves you would be much easier for him than realizing he has feelings for you, so he wouldn’t even hesitate with saying it first, the sweet boi.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

I don’t think Levi had ever considered marriage before meeting you. But after meeting you, that would likely change if you wanted to get married. He’d want to spend his life with his partner, and whether that means marriage or not, it doesn’t quite matter to him. Just the promise of being together is good enough for him. If the two of you do decide to get married, it’s no frills. Tbh, there’s no elaborate proposal from Levi, but he makes sure that he formally asks you and that it’s special to the two of you. Maybe he’d ask you at the place you first met/kissed/etc. The marriage itself would be just as lovely and peaceful as the relationship with him beforehand. Not much changes, except both you and Levi acknowledge there’s an added commitment as spouses. I think both of you would really cherish your new titles as spouses.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Levi doesn’t strike me as the type to give their S/O nicknames like babe, baby, etc. but I’m sure he’d have a specific nickname that only he uses for you. Other than that, just calling his partner by their name is enough.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Levi’s quite the stoic man, so while he presents that way to the rest of the world, his loved ones can actually see the difference between an “in love” Levi vs. a “not in love” Levi. It’s not that it’s a huge difference, he’s just softer somehow, and there’s more peace within his eyes, and he even smiles more. Levi’s not a huge fan of PDA, so he’s not prone to showing a lot of affection in front of others. In private, it’s a different story. Once he gets comfortable with affection, he’s more receptive and more giving. In front of others, he’s more comfortable holding hands or putting his hand on your back. He may not be a fan of PDA, but his eyes are on you frequently, and anyone who catches him looking at you can see how much he loves his partner.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Like I said above, not a fan of PDA. Doesn’t mean Levi’s secretive about his relationship at all. He’s proud to have his partner and proud to talk about his partner when the topic comes up. He’d be quite shy/uncomfortable kissing in front of others. Maybe not a fan of kisses on the lips, but he’d be more okay with forehead kisses, cheek kisses, etc.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Levi is so protective over his partner don’t @ me, and it just also means he’s naturally more attentive. He’d notice if your mood changes, he’d notice if something was “off” with you, he’d definitely remember you mentioning wanting something in passing and then gift it for your birthday/Christmas/a random Tuesday like MONTHS later. Memory of an elephant and more tuned into emotions than people give him credit for.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Again, not overtly romantic. Levi is a straightforward person, very practical, and very simple. But he’d give his partner the moon if he could. He believes in making things special, though, so I think he would actually put some thought/creativity in romantic actions rather than going for something cliché.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Oh absolutely. Levi is so supportive of his S/O and is happy to help with achieving any goal. He truly believes you can do whatever you put your mind to. You could lean on Levi for help with anything. He’s not one to make fun of your dreams. He’d just give his best advice and help you get a move on.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Levi definitely prefers routine. He’s a simple man with simple pleasures, and his whole life has been quite unpredictable, so he really loves the simple things in your relationship. Loves your morning routine, your night routine, loves weekly date nights. Of course, he’d enjoy trying new things with his partner, but he legitimately can’t get enough of what other might see as “mundane” parts of a relationship, because he thought he’d never get to experience that.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Levi knows his S/O like the back of his hand. He wants to know everything about them but is also respectful if it takes time for you to open up. He can be empathetic, but it takes time for him to get there tbh. He would be uncomfortable with blatant emotional conversations at first, just give him time. He just wants you to be comfortable with him at the end of the day and vice versa.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Levi’s S/O is so goddamn lucky tbh. He would never, ever take his partner for granted. He’s slow to get the hang of a serious relationship, that’s true, but he’s always trying his hardest to make the relationship be as good as it is. The best part is that Levi doesn’t lose himself in a relationship, however. He values his partner and prioritizes them, but you’d never catch yourself in a codependent relationship with this man. He wants you to be your own person and he wants that for himself, too. You’re one of his most important relationships, if not the most important one, but he understands that you are your own person and he is his own person.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Levi wears a ring with your initials carved on the inside.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In public, again, not the most blatantly affectionate. In private, he’s more into it. He loves having his arms around you or vice versa. He just likes having the warmth of his partner there, doesn’t need to be something very sexual or very physical.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Levi would be more irritable if he’s without his S/O for some time imo. Have a week long trip you have to go on? He misses you more and more with each passing day, and he gets bitchier with each passing day. He does take it out on everyone else (poor fellas). If he’s not pissy, he’s otherwise quiet and just focuses on his own stuff until he sees you again.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Levi is extremely protective of his S/O and would literally put his life on the line for them. He’s kind of dramatic in that way, but he would rather suffer in your place any day. He would do anything for his partner.

#levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi headcanons #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk #levi hc #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman hcs #aot hcs #aot headcanons #snk headcanons #snk hcs #sweet cherub anon

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odetothestars · 4 years ago

Text

Sirius Black Headcanons

Has the most beautiful hair you will ever see. Thick, shiny, raven coloured waves. It's about chin length so not really long but not short. He takes really good care of it so it's never greasy or flat. Often ties the top half of it back in a little itty bitty bun.

Loves when his close friends play with his hair. Will have Lily put little braids in it sometimes. Often just lays his head in Remus' lap without saying anything, and Remus will just run his hands through Sirius' hair for hours at a time.

Cuts his hair a bit at the beginning of summer, I have a thing for shorter haired Sirius. Like not short short though.

He's tall! (Honestly doesn't matter but in my head he's pretty tall. I know a lot of people argue over this but please don't yell at me about it if you don't agree! This is just my personal view! The whole argument about height is so ridiculous because it DOESN'T MATTER)

The CHEEKBONES and jawline that this boy has wow

Eyelashes EYELASHES. Super dark, full, and long! Also very pretty light grey eyes.

Only touchy with the people he's closest too. Like super physically affectionate with his loved ones, likes to being touching one of them at all times. Loved hugs, kisses, holding hands, snuggles of any kind but only with people he really trusts. Otherwise he does NOT like being touched, strangers or acquaintances touching him is a nono. Really affects his anxiety.

His body language is super expressive, he doesn't often use words to express how he's feeling but his emotions are more obvious in the way he holds himself. Sometimes Remus will notice that he's feeling really down so he'll just grab him and hug him without saying anything. James notices too and will (dramatically) recite an ever-growing list of everything thing loves about Sirius.

Super academically inclined, like very intelligent. However, common sense is at 0. He's a genius but also an idiot.

LOVES animals so much! Takes a walk in the Forbidden Forest and has full blown conversations with any animals he sees. Sometimes after chatting with smaller creatures, he'll smuggle them into the castle, then he has to try to convince Remus that he "just HAD to take the animal in out of the cold" and promises to take good care of it in the dorm. "Look how cute Re, we have to keep him" "Sirius NO" "But he'll be cold outside *puppy dog eyes*" "...Fine"

Also brings back little gifts for Remus and James. Little rocks, or leaves, or even twigs that looked cool. "This leaf is kinda the same colour of your eye! It reminded me of you so here ya go!" Remus keeps every single one.

Sometimes forgets that he's not actual a dog...like will sometimes lick his Remus on the cheek insteaded of kissing him? Likes being pet of the head? Gets so excited about the littlest things, like will smile and pant like a puppy when someone mentions walks or treats. Also Jumps on people when he's happy to see them. Will chase balls and sticks in human form?

"Pads, fetch!" "YES! Wait-" *Cue James losing it laughing*

"Sirius want a treat?" "YOU BET I DO" "Ok, Sit" *Sirius sits and Remus drops a piece of chocolate in his mouth*

HATES being called "Mr. Black". Mcgonagall knows this and always calls him "Sirius" instead.

Loud noises are a NO. People raising their voice at him will trigger panic attack. Thunder storms are also really bad.

Despite common misconception, he is not a player. Doesn't sleep with tons of random people because intimacy is a very serious and scary thing for him. Also guessing that he never got proper Sex Ed growing up, not knowing what something is can be very nerve racking. He's also been in love with Remus since he was 11 so ya know

Existential crisis at like 4 in the morning at least once a week! "GUYS WHY ARE WE HERE? WHAT IS THE POINT OF LIFE" "Pads-" "NO WAIT! There has to be an infinite amount of universes right? Because if they end then everything would be nothing and nothing would be everything, which would be happening all the time but also never because time and space wouldn't be real! So what else is out there? Do you think there's an alternate Sirius? What do you think aliens look like?" "...Well he's got a point"

Him and Regulus stay very close! They hang out a lot and bicker like typical brothers, it's sweet. The Potters take them both in.

Loyal to a fault! Would do absolutely anything for his friends, and would defend them endlessly! Has hexed people for making fun of Remus' scars and Lily's muggle parents.

Bad liar! Can not lie to his friends! Super bad at it!

Remus' parents love him

Very clean and neat. His part of the dorm is always the tidiest. "JAMES PICK UP YOUR SOCKS". Will fold Remus' clothes for him.

Detail oriented, remembers the littlest things about people! Like how they take their tea, their favourite sweet, little trinkets they mentioned they liked in passing.

Generous, buys his friends gifts for no reason at all

Wakes up early

Is absolutely whipped for Remus Lupin, head over heels in love.

Doesn't really like being drunk because he hates the feeling of being out of control

Helps first years find their way around the castle. Also tutors younger students.

Wears black on black, leather or black denim jackets, band t-shirts, ripped jeans! Looks very intimidating but is ridiculously soft and sweet.

Cries at sad movies. Hides behind Remus during horror movies.

Cried happy tears when James and Lily got engaged, as well as at the wedding. Also cried when Harry was born. Is an amazing godfather. Absolutely worships that kid.

This ended up being really long oops! But here are some of my thoughts on my favourite boy! Yes I did project myself a little heheh

#sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #james potter #regulus black #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders headcanon #harry potter #lily evans

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