#when i said it was short i wasn’t kidding
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Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs
For @astrangersummer prompt 'short shorts'
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)
Rating: Teen (swearing)
W/C - 848
Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering
Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.
___
Eddie was suffering.
Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.
No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.
They were going to kill him.
Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…
The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…
A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.
Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.
“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.
“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”
Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.
“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”
“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”
Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”
“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.
“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”
“Thank you.”
Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.
And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.
Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…
“Eddie?”
Fuck.
“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.
“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”
Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…
Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.
“And then after that, you can do my back.”
He fucking winked.
Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.
“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.
“Shut up.”
Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.
As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.
He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.
Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.
It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.
Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.
Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.
Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…
When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.
Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.
The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.
Eddie was fucked.
___
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Give and Take (Kind of Love We Make) [Mini Verstappen Series]
Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.
Warning(s): 18+, Implied sexual content, okay maybe it's more than implied.
A/N: Thank you Anon for your request. I hope you like it! It's a little more than steamy but I couldn't help myself as I was working on it.
Title from the song I Get Off by Halestorm
Words: 2.8k
Previous Part → Next Part
Mini Verstappen Masterlist
Nico would be spending the night at Lando’s since he and Y/N were having date night tonight. He was in the process of dropping Nico off before going back home.
"Nico," Max said while Lando was in the other room. Nico had run over to Max and hugged his legs.
"Take care of Uncle Lando." Max wasn't concerned about Nico spending time with Lando. He was concerned that Lando wouldn't know what to do with Nico aside from letting him eat junk food and watch cartoons past his bedtime.
"Max," Lando started to say walking out from the guest room in his apartment. "He'll be fine. I'll make sure that the kid is in bed by midnight."
Max gave Lando a knowing glare.
"10 o'clock?"
Max made sure to look him right in the eyes this time. He and Y/N never let Nico stay up past 9 on a weekend.
"Fine, 9." Lando looked slightly defeated.
Max kissed Nico on his forehead, "Mama and I will pick you up in the morning."
Nico gave a quick nod back.
“No sugar after 8 Lando,” He warned. Lando just nodded and smiled at him. The Brit was going to regret not listening to him.
It only took Max half an hour to drive home. As he walked through the front door of the house, he could hear Y/N from her office that was on the far end of the living room. Probably on the phone with a client or one of her co-workers. He glanced down to his watch, to see that it was only 4:45, and they didn’t have to be at the restaurant until 8.
Max had made his way downstairs to the master bedroom to take a quick shower. If Y/N wasn’t out of her office by the time he was out he could get on the sim for a while, or play Call of Duty online until he had to get dressed.
He was quick about his shower, washing his hair and body. When he got out of the shower he considered shaving but then decided not too. His facial hair looked like it was turning into a full beard if he let it grow out a little more. He discarded his towel into the hamper, walking to his closet to rummage through his drawers for clean underwear, shorts and a shirt. As he was sliding his shorts over his legs he could hear footsteps coming down the stairs.
He poked his head out of the closet to see Y/N walking into the room with her phone in her hand before dropping it onto the sheets of the bed.
“How was dropping Nico off?” She asked.
“Lando didn’t listen when I told him about Nico’s schedule.”
“Then he can deal with the consequences of him not going to bed.” She had slipped into her closet while Max moved to the other doorway that connected to the bathroom.
“How much do you want to bet he’ll call Daniel if he has trouble?” Max knew that Lando would need help.
“I don’t think you give him enough credit.” Max knew right away that she was just saying that to rile him up a bit.
“A bet then?” He asked.
“Pick up duty next week?” He would take that bet.
That seemed fair. He knew that Y/N had to work late next week, so if Lando didn’t need help with Nico, Max could take care of picking up Nico next week.
“And what do I get if I win?” He asked. She only looked at his eyes and he knew that if he was right, it would only be a matter of when he wanted something, not what it would be.
“Deal.” Max kisses her, pulling her into his chest, her hands settling at his sides before he slowly moved away from her. He left her standing there until he heard the shower turn on.
He left the bathroom and made the short walk to the room where his racing sim was. He set up iracing for a quick session. By the time the session would end, he could log off and get dressed and would still be ready to leave before Y/N.
Gianni and Enzo were online and they ran through a quick session. As they were all finishing out the session Max looked at the time on the corner of one of the screens on his sim to see it say 6:28. He was quick about saying bye to the guys, but not quick enough that he didn’t catch Gianni teasing him about his dinner plans before he logged off.
His bare feet against the hardwood floors carried him back to the bedroom, to Y/N sitting on the bed with her hair and makeup already done. She had her robe on, one sleeve was sliding down her arm as she was checking her phone.
Max’s eyes moved up her arm to her exposed neck for a few moments. His eyes moved up her face momentarily seeing her lips covered in red lipstick. The sound of the clang of something against the nightstand made him blink. He caught her eyes, and the small smile that spread over her lips.
Max was quick to disappear into his closet, pulling out black slacks, a white button up, and black dress shoes. As he was getting dressed he kept catching little peeks of Y/N as she pulled on her clothes. Taking hangers out to look at clothes before he saw her settle on a dark blue dress that complimented her skin. He had just shoved his wallet into his pants when he could hear her footsteps against the marble floor.
“Maxy, can you zip me up?” She asked. He looked up to see her standing there in a form fitting dress that hugged her perfectly.
He gave her a nod, and she turned around to see that she had managed to pull the zipper up some of the way. He pulled it up the rest of the way before kissing the back of her neck, where the necklace she was wearing was clasped together.
He could feel her melt under him for a moment, “We have reservations at 8.” She hummed.
“I know,” He whispered into her ear. “I made them.”
It would have been easy to persuade her out of the dress and to just order dinner, but he wanted to take her out. There was a foreplay-like aspect about sitting in a crowded restaurant, and having to wait it out until they got home.
Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.
She turned around in his arms, kissing him with her hands now in his hair, and he could feel that she was trying to push him up against the closest wall to get her way.
“Mijn leeuwin,” He started to maul against her lips. His hand moved low, finding the slit that was cut in her dress. His hand started to move up, slowly caressing her skin with his fingers. He kept his feet grounded in the marble flooring before forcing their lips apart.
He looked at her to see her pupils blown wide, and her lipstick a small mess. “After dinner.” He muttered. He knew what she was trying to do and it wouldn’t work on him.
He pecked her on the lips quickly before disappearing into his closet to put clothes on. He could hear her let out a frustrated huff from the bathroom, before he heard the clicking of heels against the marble.
It didn’t take Max that long to change. When he had walked out of the bathroom, Y/N’s makeup looked perfect, like he hadn’t kissed her and wrecked her lipstick just because she let him. They had left the house before 7, and Max had his hand on her thigh the entire time he was driving. The restaurant was a 45 minute drive, and by the time they were a few minutes away Max let his hand venture up a bit high on her leg. He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his eyes on the road.
He wanted her to do her best to force him out of the restaurant after they ate while he acted as the perfect gentleman.
When they pulled up to the restaurant, Max got out of the car first before walking over and opening her door to help her out of the car.
Once they were inside, the hostess saw them and took them to a table that was closed off to most of the restaurant. Max let Y/N sit first before a waiter pulled out his chair for him so he was sitting next to her.
They ordered drinks quickly, Max with his normal Gin & Tonic, and Y/N with her usual. Conversation was light before their drinks came. They were quick to thank the waiter.
“Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen.” The waiter said with a half nod.
Max reached over kissing the back of Y/N’s hand, and saw the sparkle of her diamond ring reflected in the candle on their table.
“I’m still getting used to being called that.” She said to him after the waiter left.
“I’ll make sure to call you that more often,” No one that they knew really called her that. Pierre would throw it out there every once in a while.
They had been looking over the menus, and Max’s eyes had fallen to the appetizers when he felt something smooth press into the leg of his dress pants. It was probably the side of her shoe running up and down his calf. Max looked past his menu to see Y/N had a small smile on her face with her eyes running over the menu, she must think she was being clever.
“Kitten, that won’t work.” He managed to get out before the waiter came back. Their eyes met before shifting over to the waiter.
He asked if they were ready to order, and Max was just about to answer when Y/N had dropped her hand into his lap and gave his upper thigh a squeeze.
“Give us another moment to look at the menu.” She cooly said while Max gave the waiter a tight smile. Max had half a mind to leave a hundred on the table, take her hand and leave.
Max waited until the waiter left again giving both of them a curt nod. Max placed the menu down before dropping his hand under the table, and ran his fingers over her thigh before finding the slit in her dress once again.
He leaned towards her, running his nose over the shell of her ear, and moving his hand closer to her core. He could feel her slightly shudder against his hand.
“If you don’t stop, I will take you home.” He promised through gritted teeth. He quickly moved his hand away after.
He gave it another 10 minutes before she tried reaching towards his waist. After that Max made a quick move for his wallet, leaving a hundred dollar bill on the table and grabbing Y/N’s hand. Too bad for her that she would have to suffer through the car ride back to the house.
They were rushing out of the restaurant after paying the bill. Max gave the valet a 20 dollar tip before collecting the key to his Aston Martin. The drive back to the house would have felt quick if it wasn’t for Y/N’s hand on his thigh running over the fabric of his slacks.
He tried to keep his focus on the road, and was grateful when he finally got to the gate to the house. Y/N was quick to get out of the car once it was parked, walking in front of him with a distinct sway of her hips before making her way through the side door.
Max got out of the car and followed her through the door before he saw her place her shoes to the side in the entryway. He tossed his keys onto the console with his jacket falling over them. He pushed his shoes off letting them pile up under it.
His eyes fell to Y/N’s bag ended up on top of his jacket. She stepped close to him, his hands went to her waist. Her hands slowly moved towards him, settling in the middle of his chest. He dropped his head just a bit letting their lips meet.
He tightened his grip, crushing the delicate fabric in his hands. Her hands slowly moved up and quickly settled in his hair. He started to search for the zipper that he knew was on the back of the dress, getting frustrated when he couldn’t find it, and let a whine slip past his lips.
He felt one of her hands drop from his hair, and took his hand in hers to show him where the zipper was. He pulled away from her letting their lips fall away before opening his eyes to look into hers. The zipper was easy to undo, but he couldn’t look away from her.
“It took you over an hour to get ready just for me to take it all off of you.” He teased.
He saw a light flush reach her cheeks before the dress fell from her frame and pooled around her feet.
She stood there in black lingerie and diamonds. From there Max made quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt, and she even helped him undo the last few, as laughter fell from both their lips before the shirt ended up on the growing pile of clothes.
Their feet led them into the living room, in a mess of lips, tangled limbs and moans that double paned glass couldn’t muffle. Max let out an audible hiss feeling her nails pressing lines down his back as they moved as one.
Max couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled her outside with him until he was sitting on the couch, and had her sit in front of him. She melted against the side of his chest, and reached for the waist of his pants, undoing the button and zipper before forcing them down his legs the best she could. He kicked them off. He felt her lips on his neck right after and he couldn’t help but reach for her, fully pulling her into his lap.
“You always get like this.” He said, rolling his hips into hers.
“That’s because I need you.” She muttered, pulling away from his neck looking into his eyes. “Always.”
Their lips met once more, and it wasn’t long before the last of their clothes ended up discarded by the couch. The night sky being the only thing that shielded them from the rest of the world.
A while later, Max laid there with his back against the cushion of the couch that was in the backyard. Y/N was curled up against his chest with her leg thrown over his hip, and his right hand settled on her left thigh. He laid a kiss on her forehead, and tried not to groan at the feeling of his back hurting from where she had dug her fingernails into his back. He knew that when he woke up in the morning the red lines would still be there to remind him.
“Maxy,” She said with her head tucked under his chin.
He hummed into her hair as a response as he mindlessly traced random shapes into the bare skin of her back.
“Thank you for taking me out for dinner.” She said tucking a sweaty piece of his hair away from his forehead.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Verstappen.” He whispered into her ear. She was quick to pull him into another kiss before shifting in his lap. Max had followed her with his left hand on her lower back, feeling her sit up, and let out a groan that was building up in the bottom of his throat as she pulled away from him reaching for something.
He didn’t want her shifting in his lap while he was still inside of her. He opened his eyes to her, shifting her hips down, opening a blanket and settling it over both of them.
“Thought I was going somewhere?” She asked. He just nodded.
He didn’t want to move from where they were on the couch but he had gained quite an appetite. Eventually, they pulled away from each other long enough for him to walk back inside for her phone and order pizza from the Italian place that closed at midnight. They vegged outside while eating, splitting the pizza and a tiramisu feeding each other bits and pieces.
Max placed the blanket that was over them on her shoulders and took her hand, walking through the backyard to the french doors that led to the master bedroom.
They ended up entangled around one another, not caring about their lack of clothing, with the sheets kicked off towards the edge of the bed by the early hours of the morning.
Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen
#mini verstappen series#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#mv1 imagine#mv33 x reader#mv1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine
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Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)
wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares
Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling
Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon.
But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!
“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.
“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.
Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.
... But not really.
Like, at all.
He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.
Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.
So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.
It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.
It’s just a shirt.
A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.
One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.
It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.
They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.
He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.
The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!
And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.
Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.
The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.
It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.
Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.
He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.
“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.
“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”
He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.
The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.
He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.
“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.
“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”
He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.
And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.
“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.
Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.
He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.
And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.
It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.
It’s perfect.
Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.
Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.
And kissed.
And kissed some more.
Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.
It’s just the he –
“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and –
His eyes blow wide in an instant.
And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.
Steve loves him?
Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.
All because of one perfect t-shirt.
Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.
“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.
He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.
Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.
They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.
Like it is already worn in and loved.
He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.
But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.
“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.
He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.
Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.
He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.
But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.
“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”
“You do?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.
And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.
They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.
“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.
Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.
“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.
He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.
Relaxed.
Loved.
Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.
But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.
It’s good like this.
Calm. Warm.
Soft.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#healing steddie#stranger things s4#lily writes a fic#fluff and angst#cw injury#steddie fanfiction
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here’s my background story… growing up i was always very skinny. i remember one day riding on the school bus & noticing that my calves were so much bigger than the other daycare kids which is weird since i was like 4 & what 4 year old do yk thinks like this.. but anyways years went by & i was always bigger than other 4th graders. my thighs were always more bigger but i never really let it bother me. in 7th grade i moved states & obviously had to attend a new school & at this school the girls were more heavyset than i so they always called me skinny. looking at those 7th grade pictures of myself now i was so fat & idk what those girls were talking about. i was never really huge but i was definitely the friend with the most weight. i let all this go until my mom started constantly pointing out things i never even noticed. it’s not all her fault but junior year is when i started starving myself. i remember how motivated & easy it was but i also remember how sick, tired, weak, & angry i was. it was always so hard for me to be at work because i was always so weak & could barely stand but i didn’t care since that meant i was getting skinny. people who are not familiar with the painful yet euphoric feeling of starving will never understand. everyday that i starved myself i knew i was getting skinner. i used to be so happy to see my uniform pants become loose. After a few days i ate & i mean i ATE. i remember being so hungry that i ate a tripple patty burger from wendy’s & i was so sick after since i hadn’t ate in a few days. after this i tried purging & decided that it was not for me. time went by & i decided that starving would never be a thing for me again but it wasn’t short until i started again. i failed everytime i tried & one time even threw up from binging so much after i hadn’t eaten. during the beginning of march i succeeded & lost a few pounds but fell back into eating again. so with all that being said im trying ana again & im serious this time.
#🕯️as a feather#th1n$pø#starv1ng#th1gh g@p#i wanna lose weight#low cal restriction#tw ed sheeran#@n@ buddy#@na rules#light as a feather#@tw edd#tw ed but not sheeran#ed relapse#i need to lose so much weight#bonespø#thinspø#water diet#weight loss diet#tw purge#purg1ng#urge to purge#i want to purge#to the bone#ana c0ach#ana calories#ana content#calories#rice cakes#small waist#skinnyyy
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ta dah
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41040336/chapters/102949689#main
(Rather) short chapter 2
#legend of zelda#twilight princess#true form midna#midlink#writing from the floor#true form au#ao3 link#I wasn’t kidding when I said it was short#anyways next chapter will be out sometime next week probably maybe
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kms i hate my hands
#i wasn’t insecure about them until i was like 11#when this kid who abused me (/not joking) said like “why are your fingers so short”#and i never noticed it before then but now i notice it all the time#and now i have like eczema?? and its all red and nasty looking on the back of my hands#i hate it#buffporcupine
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Remembering how last year at my nightmarish school the kids thought they had a “gotcha!” because they’d “accidentally call me sir” bc they thought I’d be offended when in reality it was very gender confirming
#meows#and mind you they said this bc 1.#I’m fat so not ~traditionally feminine ~#and 2. bc I had short hair??#I don’t like all masc terms and I don’t hate all feminine terms#don’t mind being called sir or ma’am tbh#those kids really thought they had a gotcha#when in reality all they did was boost me#and no it wasn’t like in a ‘sir yes sir!’ military way#like in a joking ‘I’m going to do whatever you say’ way
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Back off,kid.
Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : (Teen)Gojo is jealous over (kid) Fushiguro having a crush on you.
Fushiguro Megumi always wonders if he made the right choice every time a white-haired sunglass wearing teenager walks into the house.
The tall older boy would grin as his hands form a salute. “You doing good Megumi and Tsumiki?”
He was as useful as the indoor plants. Fushiguro thought.
Gojo wasn’t much good at cooking and neither helped with cleaning, probably because of his rich background—but he did spoil them with lots of food and pocket money but he wouldn’t ever admit that.
As much as Fushiguro would love to throw insults at Gojo, he holds back his tongue each time; Tsumiki would send sharp glare and nag him if he did.
The first friend he brought to visit them was a girl; it was after Gojo went missing for a while and when Tsumiki inquired about it ,he simply said one of his dear friend went cray-cray as his finger twirls at the temple of his head.
The girl had short, brown hair with a distinct smell of cigarette; her name was Shoko Ieiri. She wore an impressed look when she entered the house as she looked over to Gojo. “Heh— The place is pretty neat,Gojo.”
Fushiguro looked to Gojo who placed some groceries on the counter top with a proud smile on his face. “I know right!” Gojo replies.
The young boy frowns. “It’s Tsumiki who keeps the place clean.” Shoko gives Gojo a stare before she cackles.
A week later when Tsumiki was still in school with club activities, another person makes an appearance ,you. He could faintly hear conversations between you and Gojo through the front door on how you’d actually wanted to visit them sooner but was bombarded with mission before it swings open.
The first thing Fushiguro noticed was how Gojo seemed to make you enter first— other times he barges in without a care for Shoko— his hands near your back with a slight space, without touching it. Why was Gojo being nice?
You blink at the dark haired boy. “Fushiguro Megumi, right?” Gojo peers from behind as you smile. “Did you eat?”
“Not yet. Waiting for Tsumiki to get home.” Fushiguro thinks you’re the first person who is kind of decent.
You nod take plastic bag from Gojo’s hands and lift up it, your smile widen. “I’ll make you some good stuff then.”
“I want to eat your cooking too,y/n.” Gojo chirps in only to be ignored. And to your credit, it was actually good. He didn’t remember the last time he had something this good home made.
After that, your visits seemed to increase which Fushiguro Megumi did not mind, in fact he was getting fond of your presence. You helped with food, cleaning which lessened the load on Tsumiki plus you also helped him with his studies.
“You seemed to get it now, Megumi.” Poor kid, blushes a bit hearing your compliment. “Practice this set of questions and I think you’ll do pretty well on your tests.” You smile.
Fushiguro nods as he does as you say, face still heated up. He looks up at you, who was reading a book. Your hair slightly in your face, lips slightly parted with eyes focused. You were extremely beautiful and as much as he wouldn’t admit it , he had a big fat kid crush on you.
“Megumi-chan.” Suddenly he is shoved to the side as a body makes way in between you and him. It was Gojo who sat in between. “Move over~ This seat is mine.”
The boy frowns and so did you, not liking Gojo’s action. “Don’t interrupt the kid, who is studying.” Kid? Ouch…You huff as your move over, despite you complaining you make space for him, focus back on your book.
Fushiguro watched as Gojo leans closer to you, almost resting his head on your neck as he looked over to your book; after a while eyes slowly moved over to you, his expression softens.
Gojo smiles as he tugs a piece of hair behind your hair, to which you don’t react as if it was normal. Thee older man then turns his head to Fushiguro—oops,he got caught staring.
The white haired boy then grins, a condescending one in fact as he mouths out the following words.
‘y/n-is-mine.” Fushiguro huffs. ‘back-off.”
·:*¨༺ Part 2༻¨*:·
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo imagines#gojo imagine#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro imagine
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“babe. baaaabe. babe!”
“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap.
he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”
“yes,” you answer quickly.
you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.”
“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk.
“what? i wasn’t your first?!”
“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”
“am i though?”
“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”
behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”
you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction.
but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.
“yaga said you wanted to see me?”
cue overreaction.
“you had a crush on— on him?”
nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek.
“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”
nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”
“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?”
your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically.
“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.”
even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that.
you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”
“you wouldn’t have been—”
“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”
_____
“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.
“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”
you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”
he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?”
“you do look very handsome.”
“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”
he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”
you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.”
he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”
“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”
“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i���ve ever needed…is you.”
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my mom called me my fathers son at the wake and then just didn’t correct herself shit was crazyyyyyyyyyy
#personal#cannot emphasize how much of that was just pure exhaustion and grief but like cmon that’s crazyyyyyyy#made up most my speech on the spot. said dad wasn’t kind. but like in a loving way.#oh fuck me i have to get the flowers out of my car.#i’m glad his sisters are leaving tomorrow#they have been nothing short or lovely or helpful but i kinda need them to leave so i canS#you#know#i just kinda gave up trying to interact this visit i just stuck to my room mostly - i apologized but they assured me it was fine#gg went to the service with me and im really glad#i gave her like an hours notice bc i didn’t think to invite anyone#but i’m glad#and my brothers childhood friends were there and it was sweet and helped#my eldest brother was crying like a little kid and just tucked in when i hugged him.#like he was a dick but it was impossible to upset with him at all
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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
#cromernet#wonderlandnet#cultofdionysusnet#pirateeznet#ateez#ateez x reader#song mingi smut#mingi x reader#mingi reactions#mingi imagines#mingi smut#mingi fluff#mingi angst#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez fluff#ateez smut
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meeting robin
the justice league is happy that batman is socializing, but they're worried that he doesn't seem to notice when robin is switched out every few years
warnings and tags: miscommunication but it's funny, alien invasion, mentioned violence
“Batman,” Clark said slowly, “why do you have a second heartbeat?”
Instead of responding, Batman grunted.
“A second heartbeat?” Barry questioned, zipping over. “How would that even work?”
Another grunt from Batman.
“Batman?”
“I don’t.”
“But I can hear a second heartbeat coming from you.” Clark said, confused.
“It’s not mine.”
Barry choked. “Huh? Who is it then?”
“Robin’s.”
Clark frowned. “Who’s Robin?”
Batman grunted again, and Barry groaned.
“Come on, man!”
Then, Batman’s cape, which hid his entire body, shifted. Clark heard a small giggle. A child popped out, beaming.
“I’m Robin!” he exclaimed, clearly excited to be there. Barry was startled and jumped back a bit.
“What the f-” he stopped short when Batman glared at him. “Fudge?”
“Batman, what is…who is this?” Clark asked.
“This is Robin.” Batman said, like it explained anything.
“We got that. Why is he here?”
Robin bounced. “I’m gonna help!” he said, and Clark caught an accent he couldn’t quite place.
“Help?”
This got him a nod. “Yeah. B said I was ready to meet the Justice League!”
“Who’s B?”
Robin squinted at Barry’s question. Then pointed up at Batman. “B.”
“Batman, where’s Robin?” Diana asked, surprised the young vigilante wasn’t with Batman.
“He’s busy. Couldn’t come.” Batman said, and Diana got the sense that there was something that Batman wasn’t saying to her, but she decided to leave it be.
“I see. Is he alright?”
“Fine. Work.” Batman seemed to be giving short answers again, something he’d stopped doing after Robin had shown up.
“Well, tell him we all missed him, please.”
Batman grunted.
“Batman, what happened to Robin?” Barry questioned, staring at the small boy that had replaced the teen they’d watched grow up. This one seemed shy, half hidden behind Batman.
“Nothing.”
“Well something had to have happened, Robin was a lot taller last time we saw him.” Clark said, also watching the boy. “That’s not the same person.”
“No.” Batman said in an almost growl.
“Huh?” Barry said, confused.
“That’s not the Robin we know. That’s someone else.” Clark said.
“We’re ready to start.” Diana said from behind Batman and Robin, the latter of which startled by her.
Clark heard a quiet ‘woah’ from the boy and smiled. He must be a fan of Wonder Woman.
The Justice League and Robin shuffled into the meeting room, Robin sitting in a chair very close to Batman.
For the entire meeting, he sat quietly, mostly watching Diana with obvious wonder across his face.
Afterwards, Diana approached him, kneeling down to his level.
“Hello. My name is Diana.”
“H-hi.”
“How long have you been Robin?” she asked gently.
“Uh,” he looked up at Batman, who nodded encouragingly to the small boy. “A few months.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
Robin nodded. “Yeah. It’s fun and we get ta help people.'' This boy had an accent as well, though it was quite different from the first Robin’s.
“That’s wonderful.” Diana said. “We’re excited to work with you, Robin.” the kid beamed, looking like he was having the best day of his life.
“Batman, what the fuck?” Barry exclaimed, ignoring the various looks he got at the curse. “Why did Robin get smaller again?”
“Because I’m a different person.” Robin said.
“But he just replaced the first one like, two years ago!”
“Four, actually.”
“Batman? Could you explain, please?” Diana asked.
They got a grunt in response.
Clark sighed. “Batman, please, can you explain this?”
Robin scoffed. “Are you stupid?”
“Robin.” Batman’s tone had a warning in it.
“There’s nothing to explain.”
A grunt.
“Batman, Robin is a girl.” Hal said, confused and done with the entire thing.
“Is that a problem, fuckface?” The entire League took a step back, surprised by this Robin’s language.
“No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Hal said, trying to recover.
Robin huffed before turning back to Batman.
“Language, Robin.” was Batman’s response.
“Oh, come on, I coulda said a whole lot worse.” Her accent reminded Clark of the second Robin’s accent, though more pronounced.
“Tell that to Agent A.”
Robin gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
Batman grunted, though this sounded like one of his amused grunts.
“Fiiine.” She turned to Hal. “I'm sorry for calling you a fuckface.” that got a sigh from Batman.
She turned back to Batman. “Happy?”
Batman grunted again, and while Robin seemed content, Clark and the rest of the league had no idea what it meant.
“Oh my god, this one has a sword!” Hal screeched, running into the meeting room.
“Who does?” Diana asked, standing.
“Robin! Batman got a new one and he has a sword! He tried to stab me!”
“If I had tried to stab you, you would have been stabbed.” a small voice said from the doorway.
Everyone looked over to find Robin, scowling and glaring at all of them.
“He looks just like Batman.” Barry whispered, and Clark agreed. The boy in front of them had an uncanny similarity to Batman.
“Of course I look like him, I’m his son.” Robin snapped, and there were various gasps around the room.
“His son?” Barry’s pitch was high enough that Clark winced.
“Yes.”
“Robin.” Batman appeared behind Robin, frowning at the small boy and looking more annoyed then concerned. “Please don’t stab them. They are our allies, not our enemies.”
Robin looked annoyed, glaring at the Justice League. “Fine.”
“Go sit.” Batman said, nudging the boy towards a chair.
Clark looked up when the computer whirred to life.
“Recognized, Nightwing, B-0-1. Recognized, Red Robin, B-0-3. Recognized, Spoiler, B-0-4. Recognized, Robin, B-0-5.”
Clark stood and walked over to the zeta tube, staring at the four people that stepped out.
“Hey, Supes!”
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
“We’re-” the one in black and blue started, but was interrupted by the one in red.
“We’re looking for Batman. It’s an emergency.” he stated, matter of fact. “Where is he?”
Clark hesitated. He didn’t know these people or how they got into the tower to begin with, but he wasn’t keen on taking them to Batman.
He didn’t have time to make a decision before the zeta tube started again.
“Recognized, Red Hood, B-0-2.”
He knew that Red Hood was a crime lord, how was the computer recognizing him?
“Where’s B?” Hood asked as soon as he was through.
“We’re still working on that.”
Hood groaned. “What part of ‘emergency’ did you not understand?”
The person dressed in purple scoffed. “We just got here and Superman is in the way. You wanna fight Superman?”
Hood looked over at Clark. “Hi.”
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“We need Batman. Got a bit of an emergency.”
Clark frowned and looked down at Robin. “Robin, what is going on? Who are these people?”
Robin scoffed. “Hood and Red Robin both informed you of what is going on, Superman. I didn’t know you were that dense.”
At least he knew the name of one of the new ones.
“Alright. Just, stay here, okay?”
“Fine.” Robin snapped, looking annoyed.
Clark went over to the chair he’d been in and hit the intercom. “Batman, you’re needed by the zeta tubes.”
A few minutes later, Batman appeared. When he saw the assortment of vigilantes, he sighed loudly.
“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired.
“We are being attacked by aliens.” the one in purple said.
Clark frowned and Batman shook his head.
“So you came up here to tell me instead of using the coms? Why?”
“Well, the com lines are down.” Hood said. “So yes, we came up here.”
“B, we really need to go take care of the aliens. Can we go?” the one in black and blue asked.
“Yes. Go, I’ll be down in a minute.” Batman said, still just sounding mildly inconvenienced instead of like someone who was just informed of an alien invasion.
As soon as they were all gone, Clark rounded on Batman. “What the hell? Who are they?”
Batman grunted. “Notify the rest of the League, then get down there.” he walked away, and left through the zeta tube.
Clark sighed and did as Batman had asked.
“Will you explain this now?” Clark asked, waving at the group of vigilantes that all said they worked with Batman, despite the League only knowing about Robin.
Batman just grunted and Clark was about to lose it, but then Batman said, “Robin.”
Clark stopped. “Huh?”
“Nightwing was the first Robin, Hood the second, Red Robin the third, and Spoiler the fourth. Orphan was never Robin, but she was Batgirl. Signal is new and has only ever been Signal.
“What the fuck?” Barry exclaimed. “I thought they all died!”
Hood raised his hand. “I did die.”
Batman sighed at that.
“Did he really?” Clark asked.
“Yes. But he’s fine now.”
“Am I?”
Batman groaned.
#batfam#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#stephanie brown#justice league#miscommunication#humor#fluff#my work
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Of Oblivious Minds (3)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst
a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
~~
Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind.
A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine.
He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.
He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for.
Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself.
So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now.
He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches.
Not that you would reciprocate either.
You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why.
His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything.
But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since.
“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?”
“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?”
Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—”
“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?”
Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.”
Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week.
“When can I leave?”
Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?”
Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.”
“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast.
“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip.
You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?”
“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.”
A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.
He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound.
He committed it to memory.
“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?”
Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip.
Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze.
“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response.
“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?”
His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.”
Azriel had had enough of distance.
He nodded his head all the same.
And then, despite all odds, you looked at him.
You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation.
Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay.
“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling.
“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster.
And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.
It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt.
“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.”
“Of course.”
“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.”
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?”
Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?”
Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance.
“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.”
“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm.
Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.”
“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be.
He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet.
He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more.
There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship.
Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins.
Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you.
And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted.
The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.
Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you.
And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew.
He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice.
He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you.
The bond had only cemented his foolishness.
He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped.
“Late night then, Az?”
You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night.
Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times.
It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”
The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain.
The months following were different.
Everything was different.
But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest.
Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.
That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached.
And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it.
“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness.
The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight.
“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.”
“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.”
The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—”
“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.
“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—”
“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—”
Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands.
“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering.
The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked.
“I think forever.”
Part 4
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel angst
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“Psst! Old Geezer!”
“The fuck did you just call me–!” Dick Grayson was a lot of things–cop, detective, vigilante, handsome beyond mortal comprehension–but he wasn’t old! Twenty-three was not old! When he got his hands on that brat– “Oh, it’s you. You need to knock it off, kid.”
The kid in question had become something of a legend to the Central Bloodhaven Police Department. Detective O’Mallery had dubbed the kid “Stalky,” but Dick thought Lurky was a more accurate name; the kid lurked outside murder scenes, often showing up before the press… and sometimes, before the cops. Lurky was a short kid, easily half Dick’s height, and pale. He practically glowed, lighting up the alley Dick was guarding. He wore a black overcoat that swamped his tiny body, with the sleeves and hem cut to fit the child’s frame and a stiff gothic collar that reached his ears. Lurky’s black hair and blue eyes uncomfortably reminded Dick of—
“Nah, i don’t think i will,” the kid dismissed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “‘Sides, you can’t do anything to stop me.”
“I can arrest you,” Dick said, completely serious. “You’re interfering with a crime scene, again. I’d be well within my rights to do so.” The kid looked unimpressed.
“Okay, boomer.”
Dick resisted the urge to murder a child. Barely.
“Besides,” Lurky continued, “I just wanted to do my civic duty and inform you of the bloody knife three alleys over. Pretty sure it could help solve the crime scene there.” He gestured towards the apartment building behind Dick. “Andrew Grant-Williams, age 36, apartment 214. Right?”
“How the hell did you know that?”
“What, that thing with the knife? I looked for it, obviously.”
“No, about the suspect!” Dick glared at Lurky. “There’s no way you could have pinpointed who in the apartment died; did you steal a police radio!?” If he did, then Dick would actually have to arrest the kid.
“No, I didn’t steal a police radio. Yet.” Dick tried really hard to ignore that last part. He’d done far worse things as Robin, after all. “His wife told me.”
Andrew Grant’s wife, Patrisa, died four years ago in a mugging gone wrong. Before Dick could question Lurky further, Dick blinked and Lurky vanished just like Batman.
Even worse? Dick bothered checking the dumpster three alleys over and found, underneath a bag of kitchen scraps, a hunting knife, still bloody.
#constantine jr au#dick grayson v parenthood#dc x dp#dp x dc#dp crossover#dc crossover#c: danny fenton#c: dick grayson#de aged danny#not sure where to go from here but i have a few ideas#this is a teaser for when I publish on friday
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toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.
“don’t start.”
you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.
“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.
it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.
megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”
you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;
“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”
you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.
“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.
megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;
“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.
you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.
“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.
“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.
“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,
you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.
“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”
megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.
you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.
and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.
#ෆ : parenting 101.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#toji x you#jjk x you#jjk fluff#toji fluff
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Unfamiliar Waters
Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral.
Content: Bathing, kissing, hair washing, fluff, comfort, slight conflict that gets resolved immediately, no sex, minor mention of torture. 1500 Words.
Summary: You were in dire need of a bath after a harrowing fight outside the inn you were staying at. Unfortunately you find the tub already occupied by Astarion. In an attempt to bond with and get him out of there, you offer to wash his hair.
Another short Astarion fic I started a while ago. Wanted to do something fluffy and intimate without any sex. Thanks again to Suri for edits and help with lines and the title!
You flung open the wooden doors, uncaring as wood chipped against lavender painted walls. Just as you were halfway through discarding your shirt, an indignant cry caught you off guard.
“What in the sweet hells, do you mind?!” The towel and toiletries fell from your hands. You’d never been very perceptive and today was no exception. Already fully submerged in the tub was Astarion; chest bare slumped over the side, a dripping copy of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette in hand.
“Astarion?! I haven’t seen you in hours, is this where you’ve been?” You spluttered. “We really could have used your help. There was a fight right outside the inn. There’s absolutely no way you didn’t hear the commotion.”
“Some of us take pride in our appearances and besides, I needed time away from that festering group of ingrates.” As if to emphasise his point he shuddered. “You know, you could all learn a lot from me, starting with regular bathing.”
“And how exactly are any of us meant to bathe when you’re in the bathroom four hours every day?”
“Oh I don’t know, Baldur’s Gate has plenty of scenic rivers and lakes. I’m sure the bear has no problem leading each of you to nature’s finest bathhouse.”
You rubbed your temples with a freehand. As much as you loved this man, he could really start to grate on your nerves after a while. You scooped up your belongings and made your way over to him, arranging your towel neatly on the floor beside you.
He looked up from the paper disinterestedly. “As much as I love your company, dear, I hope you’re not planning on joining me. I hardly think this,” he gestured disapprovingly at the tub, “can fit us both.”
“Astarion, if there’s anything I can do to cut this exceedingly long bath short, I would be more than happy to assist.”
His eyes widened momentarily. How stupid of you, you hadn’t considered the implications of what you’d said.
“No, no, that's quite alright. I’ve still got my hair to wash and that’ll take at least another half an hour.”
Perching yourself on the edge of the tub beside him, you began rolling up your sleeves.
“Then allow me.” You smirked.
He flung the sodden paper to the floor and stared at you dumbfounded. “You mean you- wash my hair. I’m sitting here naked, dripping and gorgeous and all you want to do is ‘wash my hair’?”
“Couples do things for each other. Things outside of sex and combat, I might add,” you sniped back. Using your fingers, you began combing through his dampened locks.
“Without the sex, I suppose that leaves only the one thing we do together then.”
“That’s true.” His body tensed. “No, no wait- '' Flustered, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against the back of his head. A feeble gesture, intended to soothe him and buy you enough time to explain.
“Just kidding,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t genuine.
“I like doing other things with you,” you mumbled into his curls. “I don’t care about the sex.” You relaxed your hold, allowing him to turn around to face you. Delicately, you reached out and wiped a stray piece of hair from his forehead. As you did so, his unnaturally pale cheeks took on a darker hue, perhaps from the heat or from your touch, you weren’t sure.
He cleared his throat and turned away again. “I see then. Well, this is as good a time as any to try something new.”
“Really?!” your head perked up. “I’m so excited, haven’t washed anyone else's hair since I left home.” You began swirling a hand in the tepid water, carefully choosing a spot faraway from where Astarion sat. “Did you and your siblings ever do this for each other? Like my family did,” you asked without thinking.
He shot you an incredulous glare, which soon contorted into sarcastic glee. “Oh, of course we did! And then in between our torture sessions we’d paint each others’ nails! What good fun it was.” His smile dropped and he fell backwards into the bath, splashing you in the process.
You scratched the back of your head. “Sorry I-”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave it, my love. No use dwelling on all that now.” You nodded your head in agreement, not that he could see you. “Come now, we don’t have all day.”
You hummed in agreement, looking over the various bottles that sat on a shelf beside the bath. Astarion was a very particular man and you didn’t wish to upset him by, god’s forbid, using the wrong fragrance. You gestured towards the selection of shampoo. “What’s your poison?”
“Hmm, I think today I‘m in the mood for jasmine- no wait- night orchid and ginseng- actually, that honey shampoo sounds positively delicious.”
“Might net you some unwanted attention from our camp bear,” you joked, hands sifting through the knots in his hair.
“Fair point. Alright then, I think I’d like to try that raspberry one, the one you got from that dear little market stall.”
The same one you liked to use.
With a gentle firmness you cupped the sides of his head. You hoped it was enough to stop him from turning around and seeing the pure glee etched onto your face.
“Alright, I need to get it wet, lean back,” you instructed, as you scooped up a handful of water.
He did as he was told and reclined backwards, eyes closed and squinted, anticipating the stream of water. Doing this for your brothers and sisters had been easy. Hells, you could get away with lobbing them in the river and they’d be just fine. Astarion, on the other hand, required a more delicate touch (even if he’d never admit to it) and you were more than happy to cater towards him.
With slow precision you poured the cooling water over his scalp, immediately pushing back any stray drops that threatened to drip down into his eyes.
Gods, how was it possible for such a man to be so beautiful and how was it that such a man had chosen you as his partner? Your hands stopped and your gaze lingered, as you took in his picturesque features.
An eyelash heavy with steam peeled open, giving you an inquisitive look.
“Enjoying the show, darling?” A thick, humid heat bloomed across your cheeks. “By all means, keep admiring me.”
“Shut up and close your eyes!” You grabbed the bottle from the side and began lathering it in your hands. The familiar fragrance filled your nostrils and despite having grown accustomed to having it as your own scent, you were looking forward to how it smelt on him.
You rubbed the foam through your fingers, fully enveloping his hair in a thick mousse. As your nails dragged across his scalp you heard him moan.
“That feels positively wonderful.”
“Oh yeah, like this?” you asked, repeating the same motions as before. He mmm-ed softly, sinking further into your hold. You paused for a second, this might be the most satisfied sound you’d ever heard coming from his lips, not a bad thing of course, given his past experiences.
His eyes were open again, staring up at you, face awash with bliss.
“Itching for a taste are we?” he goaded lightly.
There was no use dignifying that with a response. You brought your lips down upon his, his head still clasped in your hands. It was brief and sweet, reminiscent of those first kisses you’d once shared with young lovers. Unthinkable that such innocent yearning could be reclaimed so late in life.
Reluctantly you broke the kiss and pulled away.
“I do rather like that, you know…”
“I know and so do I.” You beamed. “Okay now can you please hurry up so I can have a bath,” you pleaded, peppering his mouth with more kisses.
“Always so demanding,” came his curt reply (the audacity). Nonetheless, he complied and finished up.
A deep sigh of relief escaped your lips after finally lowering yourself into freshly ran water. About halfway through wetting your hair, a freezing pair of hands on your shoulders caught you off guard.
“Astarion!” you shrieked. The little rogue had snuck up behind you.
“Oh, do be quiet, and don’t splash me. Wouldn’t do to get me wet again.” You watched as he rifled through the shampoo bottles disapprovingly. “We must go to the market together again soon, darling, just the two of us. I know just the product that’s perfect for your hair type, might do something about that helmet musk too.”
You opted to ignore that last dig, instead choosing to relish in the satisfaction of a warm bath and your lover threading his fingers through your hair. “I’d like that,” you hummed happily.
A contented silence descended over the room. You felt at peace and when you saw him hovering above you with that serene grin on his face, you knew he felt the same.
#astarion#astarion ancunin#tav x astarion#astarion x tav#reader x astarion#astarion x reader#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate#my fic#bg3 fic#fanfic#vampire
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