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#you know he was SO PROUD of himself for this
arieslost · 1 day
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MIAMI | ln4
summary: lando won for the first time and i have so many emotions i have to write something I’M SO FREAKING HAPPY
word count: 834
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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you feel like you’re in a dream. walking on sunshine. on cloud nine. all the good, amazing things in the world.
lando has won his first ever grand prix. his first career win. right in front of your eyes.
in all honesty, it feels like you’re floating. you can’t imagine how he must be feeling as the team comes rushing out of the garage to meet him as he parks the car in front of the first place banner.
“come with me!” zak says the moment he catches up to you from the pit wall, immediately reaching for your hand so he can help you navigate your way through the crowd. “he needs to see you front and center!”
you don’t think that’s necessarily true, that he would certainly rather see the team and catch up with you afterwards, but you’ve learned not to argue with zak. you just hold on tight and allow him to guide you to the front of the barrier separating everyone from the top three finishers and their cars.
your throat quickly grows hoarse from cheering as he proudly stands atop the car, and you can’t even hear yourself over the cheers of everyone else around you and in the grandstands.
you would happily go deaf in this moment, because the sound of hundreds of thousands of people cheering for your boyfriend would be the last thing ringing in your ears. if you dreamt this moment up, it wouldn’t even sound this good.
you’re quick to take out your phone and record as lando gives himself a running start to leap across the barrier entirely and into the waiting arms of the mclaren team, who immediately swarm around him, hugging him and patting him excitedly. at some point he gets flipped around, everyone’s hands supporting him from below so the world can see the beaming smile on his face.
you don’t know when they started, but you can feel the tears on your cheeks as he’s placed back on his feet on the other side of the barrier. he’s pulled into enthusiastic hugs by a few more team members, and then he starts calling your name, eyes frantically searching for you amongst the sea of papaya.
“lan!” you yell as loudly as you can, pressing yourself right up against the barrier and leaning forward.
he spots you from over zak’s shoulder as they embrace, his smile somehow growing impossibly wider the moment your eyes meet. your happy tears begin to fall even faster after he hugs andrea and immediately makes a beeline for you.
all the words you want to say to him get stuck in your throat as you throw your arms around his neck. he’s sweaty, but so are you, courtesy of the miami heat, and neither of you care. you yelp in surprise when you feel his arms go around your waist and lift.
“what are you doing?!” you laugh, clinging onto him with all your might regardless.
“i’m not gonna have a fucking barrier between us when i do this,” is all he offers as an explanation before he’s kissing you, cupping your face with one hand and holding the other above his head, his pointer finger extended up to the sky.
you don’t see it in the moment, of course, but you’ll see plenty of pictures of it later.
you kiss him back with equal fervor. it’s definitely not the most perfect kiss; you’re crying and he can’t stop smiling so your teeth knock together a couple times, but that doesn’t dim the passion between you both as you hold each other. the crowd chanting his name fades into background noise when you break apart for air and he rests his forehead against yours.
“i love you,” he says, over and over. “i love you, i love you. i’m so glad you’re here with me.”
“lan, i’m so proud of you,” you’re in hysterics, laughing as tears continue to fall down your face even while he gently wipes them away. “you deserve this. every single second.”
“i love you so, so much. thank you for not giving up on me,” he says, his words so sincere that you could fall to the ground right here and now.
“stop making me cry more!” you exclaim, hands covering his as you reach up to wipe your eyes. “don’t you have the top step of a podium to get to?”
“can i bring you with me?”
“absolutely not,” you giggle, pulling him into another tight hug.
“alright, but i told will to get you on his shoulders so i can see you perfectly while i’m up there.”
it doesn’t click in your head why he would bother telling you that until you’re on will’s shoulders and lando is spraying his champagne down at you from the top step with surprising accuracy. and when he finds you after it’s all over and kisses you again, you decide that champagne is your new favorite taste in the whole world.
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note: i don’t even care that i’m posting this late or if this sucks it doesn’t matter it needs to be posted today i am so happy for him i’m still crying oh my gosh I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I’M SO HAPPY LANDO NORRIS IS A GRAND PRIX WINNER
my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai
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kenntolog · 2 days
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𝝑𝝔 an: popular gojo with loser reader because this dynamic is also very cute <33 and ppl seem to love loser reader. masterlist!!
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popular gojo whose sights set on you when you’re paired up for a final project for the semester. he’s kinda bummed that he isn’t with suguru like usual, but all of his displeasure disappears when he meets you gaze from across the room.
you stare at him like a dear caught in the headlights while he just observes you. a small smile stretching on his lips when he notices your cheeks turning red and fingers nervously tugging at your collar.
he gives you a light wave as a greeting and you do the same, face softening, smiling at him shyly. the first thing that comes to his mind at the mention of your name after your introduction is how cute you are when flustered.
you’re also very cute when you’re talking to him; your voice coming out a little weak and stuttery so he has to bend down and ask you to repeat for him. and from the first moments satoru finds himself enamoured by your antics; your shyness, your cute expressions, the way you smile at him and talk to him.
satoru takes a liking to you after a couple of study sessions together, in your cramped dorm room with dimmed lights and soft dialogues. it’s something new for him, something he now feels like he needs because he didn’t know he even needed to decompress from being so loud all the time. and your presence is very calming and soothing so he finds himself appearing at your door for reasons other than your project.
and you accept him with no hesitation. your usual talkativeness dying down while you listen to him rant, complain, be excited about something until he notices that you’re always getting too quiet around him. you seem to not shut up when talking to suguru or shoko, always having something to add and being active in a conversation, but when it’s time to talk with him it’s seems like you’re on the listener mode only. and that he doesn’t really prefer since he loves the sound of your voice.
gojo tries everything he can to open you up more: geto and shoko conveniently leave you both alone to continue the conversations together, he changes the subject of studying to something silly and funny all the time, he procrastinates on his phone and tugs you along with himself — you mostly comply and he feels very content and proud of himself at every bit of progress he notices.
one night he puts his head on your lap arrogantly and looks up at you with curious eyes, “d’you not like me?”
you choke on your spit, sputtering weakly about him being ridiculous until you’re stuttering out a small, barely audible “i really like you, satoru” into the silent air. satoru instantly rises from his laying position and tugs you into a warm and tight hug, showering you with affection while you just take everything he has to give to you.
once you’re officially together, satoru shows you off like you’re his biggest treasure. you absolutely hate it, too unused to going out of your comfort zone, but don’t worry, because satoru is there to reassure you and hold your hand through it.
he wants to erase the thought of not being on the same level as him since for him levels don’t exist and for you they shouldn’t exist either. but he knows the reason why you even care is because of how everyone around you judges his choice, not hiding it in their envious stares and hushed tones.
satoru doesn’t give a shit, though. he feels good when he’s around you and you do the same around him, and that’s what matters to him the most.
and satoru remembers the day you both presented your project very well — it’s one if his favourite memories with you. the way your face turned white when he asked you to continue for him, slowly getting over your fear of talking in front of people, and the way you looked at him like he gave you the world when he held your hand and you bowed together.
it might seem insignificant yet satoru felt like he was on top of the world, ready to thank suguru for basically ditching him on the project to get a better grade with shoko, because the bright beam on your pretty face seemed like the best reward for all the time he spent liking you.
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thef1diary · 1 day
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Happy 2k babes! Can you write a small piece of reader being iron deficient and lando just taking care of her? Reminding her to take the pills and stuff
I am totally gonna use his first win as a plot, also this reminded me to take my own pills cuz ya girl is iron deficient
wc: 600+ (omg I can actually write a blurb?!?!)
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work
You've been standing on your feet during almost the entirety of the race, anxiousness overtaking your emotions, rippling through you as he raced lap by lap in first place.
Throughout the podium celebrations, you cheered so loudly to the point where you felt like you would wake up with a sore throat tomorrow morning. You felt lightheaded, and as the celebrations went on, you were reminded of the fact that you had forgotten to take your iron supplements earlier that day. Telling yourself you'll take them later, you returned to Lando's driver room while he completed his media duties.
You heard Lando's footsteps approaching, entering his room covered in sweat and champagne but still holding onto his trophy. You smiled once you saw him smiling, so wide that it could've competed with Daniel's infamous pearly whites. You mustered all your energy to stand up and greet him, but as you rose from your seat, a sudden rush of dizziness swept over you, causing the room to spin.
Lando's quick reflexes caught you just in time, his strong arms wrapping around you to steady your wobbly stance. "Whoa there, easy now," he said, concern etched in his voice.
You leaned against him, grateful for his support. "I'm okay," you insisted, though the lightheadedness refused to dissipate.
As you sank back onto the sofa, feeling defeated by the sudden onset of weakness, Lando's expression softened with understanding. "I think you might have forgotten to take your iron supplements again, haven't you?" he said gently, his tone more statement than question.
You nodded sheepishly, feeling guilty for neglecting your health in the midst of the celebrations. But Lando didn't scold you or chastise you for your oversight.
Without a word, Lando wandered off further into the room, finding your bag and shuffling through it for the bottle of supplements you always carried. He returned, standing in front of you while holding a bottle of water, "here, take this," he said gently, handing you the pill.
As you swallowed it down, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his thoughtfulness.
Once the room stopped spinning and you felt more steady on the couch, Lando helped you up again, this time with more caution. "Let's take it slow, okay?" he said, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he held you close.
You arched up a brow, "says the fastest guy on the track today." His worry dissipated, replaced by a smug grin, "I won."
"Yes you did, baby, I'm so proud of you." You placed a kiss to his cheek, earning a sound of displeasure rumbling from his throat.
"Gimme a proper kiss, I deserve that today, no?" He looked at you with the sweetest smile, but you shook your head, pushing him away playfully. "You stink, go shower first."
He held his hands up, knowing that he was covered in champagne and sweat, "alright, alright, as long as you don't faint out here while I do."
"The faster you shower, the faster you'll get your kiss, Norris," you stated and held in a chuckle when he fumbled over his two feet to get himself in the shower.
When he returned, you curled up on the couch, Lando wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "Don't forget to take care of yourself, okay? I'm always here to help," he whispered.
With those simple words, Lando reminded you that even in the midst of his own triumphs, he would always be there to support you, to lift you up when you were feeling weak, and to remind you of the importance of prioritizing your own well-being. For true victory, he knew, could only be achieved when both of you were standing strong together, side by side.
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @glitterquadricorn
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cheriladycl01 · 2 days
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Could you do SMAU for Toto Wolff with wife fashion designer!reader? He always goes to her events even though he's busy and she vice versa. Bonus : appearance by their son, Jack Wolff. Just something fluff and romantic. Add something else to it if you want to. Thanks!! :))
Dolce and Gabana vs Wolff vs Versace - Toto Wolff x FashionDesignerWife! Reader
Plot: It's coming to the annual Met Gala and you've got a list of celebrities you are set to dress in your brand, however there's one celebrity your all fighting for. Things are getting busy with that and being not even halfway through the F1 season!
Credit to 44lh for the GIF
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"Baby? Can you ask Lewis round for dinner!" you call and he comes trotting round the stairs your son in his arms.
“Mumma” your son cries opening his arms up for you to take him and you frown not being able to hold him anymore so you walk over to the sofa so he can lay down with you.
“Hello baby” you grin nuzzling his nose with yours making him burst out laughing and hold both sides of your cheeks.
“So, Lewis for dinner?” You grin.
“Yes let me message him darling” he says pulling you in for a kiss before tapping away at his phone.
iMessage:
Toto: Hello Lewis, Y/N wants you to come over for dinner. I suspect it’s to ask you about the Met Gala.
Lewis: Ah, yes when should I come over?
Toto: Anytime that pleases you!
“Lewis!” You squeal in excitement as he walks through the door to your home. You pull him in for a hug. You were currently very pregnant with yours and Totos second child, only a few weeks away from your due date. But you never stopped working as, to you it wasn’t really work, it was a hobby that you got payed very kindly to do.
“Hello beautiful” Lewis smiles kissing your cheek before looking you over.
“God look how big she’s getting!” He smiles looking at your stomach making you smile at hold it happily.
“She’s been kicking a lot, she’s ready to come out and meet her uncle” you grin elbowing him a little before your son comes running in.
“LEW LEW” he screams wrapping himself around his uncles leg. Lewis laughs before picking him up.
“So, will you let me style you for the met gala?” You ask, and he laughs a little.
“Mmm I’ve already had a few people reach out to me…” he says cheekily and you gasp in mock horror.
“WHO! Tell me now!” You demand and he laughs.
“Dolce and Gabana and Donatella Versace” he admits and you gasp even more.
“Oh Lord, I can’t fight for you when I’m pregnant” you sigh knowing it would be hard work considering that Lewis had a brand deal with Dolce and Gabana.
“Y/N, chill i was always going to go with you anyway. I trust no one more than i trust you” he grins and you pull him into a bigger hug, regardless of the struggle.
“I promise your going to look amazing!” You grin and he nods knowing you’d keep that up!
y/user
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Liked by themetgalaofficial zendaya and others
y/user: preparing for the met gala. Such an exciting theme for 2024! Got some of my faves on board already…
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fan1: she’s tagged Lewis, does that mean he’s attending and she’s styling him?
-> fan2: I’m sure of it! She’s married to his team principle so she has those connections!
toto.wolff: I’m so proud of everything you’ve done this year!
-> y/user: thank you my love!
fan3: shes such an icon, everyone and their mum is wearing her right now
lewishamilton: I’m excited to work with you again!
You’d worked hard for the last few months, after you’d given birth you got straight to working on your new summer line of clothing which you decided on two different themes.
You’d been a little more stressed, trying to keep up with work while looking after both the kids. But it was getting too much with Toto often away. You’d asked him many times to come home and help but he was so busy with Mercedes and how rubbish their car was this year.
It took a whole breakdown of you sobbing to Lewis on the phone saying you were thinking you’d have to stop out of the Met Gala because of the stress to get Toto’s attention.
He came home straight away, pulling you into a hug and giving you the time off you needed. You spent time at a spa, relaxing and spending evenings with your husband which you felt like you hadn’t done for months now.
Of course you didn’t end up dropping out of the Gala, and you’d turned down all the rumours that you were. The rumours being that Versase and Dolce and Gabana were going to take on all your celebrity clients.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you more” Toto sighs and he cuddles into you and kisses all over your face and down your jaw and onto your neck.
“It’s okay, I love you so much baby” you sigh into him and the feeling of him being present.
y/userfanpage
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Liked by y/user and others
y/userfanpage: some of Y/N Y/L/N most iconic met gala styles. I saw a thread that was similar on Twitter and thought I’d share my opinion!
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fan1: she is the icon, she is the moment
fan2: we gonna get loads of cool stuff this year, I can feel it!
“Can I have some design input” Toto says as he feeds your son while you feed your daughter.
“What do you mean design input?” You ask suspiciously.
Every time that he’d asked for this it had somehow been a ploy to incorpórate the Mercedes logo into something.
“Well I was thinking if you were styling Lewis you could …” he starts but you immediately shake your head and glare.
“No, no toto I - im not putting a Mercedes Logo on Lewis suit!” You cry with a laugh looking at him.
But Toto knew he had a few months to convince you.
iMessage
Lewis: Is Mercedes plan a go?
Toto: I’m working in it, I’ll get her to cave in soon.
Lewis: it’s gotta look slick okay?
y/user
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Liked by lewishamilton and zendaya
y/user: I loved this years theme! Made some beautiful pieces on some beautiful people!
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lewishamilton: thank you for putting the merc symbols on the white lace, it made myself and toto very happy! ❤️
-> y/user: it took lots of convincing but I’m happy with the results! You looked fab Lewis!
fan1: y/n slayed
zendaya: my beauty, it will never get old getting styled by you - a true legend 🫶🏼❤️
-> y/user: STOP! You rocked it! 🍒
You walked along the red carpet Toto on your arm as you smiled for the cameras.
“Y/N who are you wearing tonight?” One of the paps cheekily calls making you grin in their direction as they snap a picture.
“Myself of course!” You shot back with a massive smile on your face that had Toto’s heart soaring. It was a rare day in which you and Toto were free of the little monsters you guys called your children and you were both lapping up the time with one another.
“Looking fabulous Y/N” another shouts and you are walking down the carpet, greeting everyone who you had dressed before you meet up with Lewis.
“Hello” you smile and he pulls you into a hug.
“Looking radiant as ever” he says spinning you round making you chuckle. Lewis was quite literally a part of yours and Toto’s family at this point and so you always were acting like this.
“Now it’s time to face the crowd!” You smile before entering in for a night at the mets.
y/user
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Liked by toto.wolff and themetgalaofficial
y/user: never felt so close to my family than designing this one of a kind suit for my husband… and having my dress represent me as a person. What a wonderful night!
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fan1: the fact she literally made his a suit to wear … I’m crying 😢
fan2: they are my fav couple fr
toto.wolff: it was an honour to wear you my love ❤️
-> y/user: I love you so much! ❤️
Taglist:
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faetreides · 2 days
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patrick probably whines when you bounce on his cock.
cw: 18+ mdni, au of the ending where patrick wins (no infidelity btw, he and tashi never did anything), implied drug use, car sex mention, riding, afab reader, reader is naked/patrick is fully clothed, lowkey gross & nasty, breeding kink (i’m ovulating rn), unprotected p in v sex, slight degradation, unedited
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You’re just so proud of your boyfriend, you can’t help but jump his bones immediately. You see Patrick running towards after his match, and you race to vault yourself into his arms. He laughs wholeheartedly and spins you around, partly happy because you seem to be so happy for him. He’s still in a state of shock, to be honest. Everything was leading up to Art cementing his place in his career, but Patrick had managed to beat him in the end. No one could believe it, Patrick’s hope had been almost completely gone by that point. But he did it, and maybe now he can leave behind the needles and scrimping pennies.
He still hasn’t processed anything, but your lips and giggles are too good to ignore. You gasp as he picks you up by gripping onto your thighs and hoisting your legs around his waist. You rock your clothed core against his abs for a second, in dire need of a little friction. Patrick makes the kiss messy, pushing more of his spit into the intense lip locking. He flicks away the string of saliva that connects your lips when he ducks back to look at you. You grin, eyes wide and cheeks blazing with heat. It’s a stupid decision, but you throw your body weight around to get Patrick to fall onto the bed with you.
“Fuck!” He shouts, darting his hands around the back of your head and digging his knees into the mattress so he doesn’t fall out. “Couldn’t have waited a little bit, are you a greedy whore all of a sudden?”
You shrug, “Maybe, but you’d like it if I was. Now come here, we have to celebrate.”
With that, you leg your legs fall open and put on your most convincing pout, beckoning your boyfriend to get a move on already. Seeing him sweat in those slutty shorts and hearing him grunt whenever he hit the ball really gets you going, something that you didn’t think was possible until you got an athlete boyfriend. It’s a competition to find out who can be the most insanely horny in the relationship at this point, and if Patrick ever got a hold of your diary, he’d agree that you win by a landslide.
Patrick latches onto your shoulders and spins to lie flat on his back with you on top of him. You adjust your position, jostling your hips until you’re positioned right over his hard bulge. You’re too busy getting lost in a flurry of clothes as you both kind of awkwardly undress on the bed, but eventually his pants are pulled down enough for his cock to spring free while you’re fully naked. You look like a porn star to him, teasingly swiveling your hips in the most seductive way possible.
He smirks and throws his arms behind his head, “I thought you were supposed to be my prize, what happened to making me feel like a winner?”
You bite you rlip, digging your nails into his pecs, “It’s not my fault you’re too keyed up to not cum immediately, savoring this is possible, you know?”
Patrick rolls his eyes and smiles, not picking a fight with you on that. Sometimes you like to get yourself worked up too, with his thick cock gliding in between your folds and mixing your juices together.
You lift your ass and throw a certain look towards him, and he tries not to be too smug as he wraps a large hand around the base of his hard cock. He holds the rigid length upright so all you have to do is hover over it and plop yourself right down on it. He doesn’t pump himself while he waits, he wanted to fuck before the match but you wouldn’t let him. You said it’d be better for him to have all this energy stored up.
You get restless and start to sink down on his cock, the stretch always takes some breath out of you but you were the one that decided to wait until now. Once he’s bottomed out, you’ve given up on teasing him until he breaks you entirely. You lift your hips until the tip of his dick catches on your hole and then slam down, starting off with a realsitically unattainable fast pace.
His fingers dig into the fat of your bouncing ass cheeks, “You’re inflating my ego too much, making me feel like a big shot getting fresh pussy in his hotel room.”
You moan, keeping eye contact as you fuck him into the mattress, “You- You are a big shot, babe. Shit- Just lie back and relax…”
The smell permeating in the room is already so pungent. Patrick’s natural musk intertwining with your own, if anyone else walked in they might faint, but to you two, you could cum from the scent of your sex by now. Being the same kind of freak in that regard brought you both so much closer if anything. You grind your pubes down against his, clenching on his dick on purpose. The friction is delicious for your clit, so you do it again.
He throws his head back, reaching up to curl one of his hands around your throat as you ride him, “Uh huh, that’s my dirty slut, so wet and tight for me.”
His words trail off into a squeaky whine as you speed up, truthfully losing stamina a bit but still determined to celebrate your boyfriend properly. You lean to press your sweaty tits right up against his own, and you whisper in his ear about this being a repeating occurrence.
“Maybe someday we’ll have a baby to put to bed first before we can do this, get them to wave at you from the stands and then pass them off to you when we’d see you after you win.” You lick the shell of his ear as you speed up, ignoring the embarrassing wet smacks of your slick ass against his hip bone. “Wouldn’t it be cute, me with a chubby baby on my hip that looks like you and another one already in my belly?”
“You’re a fuckin’ demon, i swear.” Patrick moans, giving you little whines here and there when you seem to really hit the spot. “Yeah, it’d be cute.”
What better way to celebrate than by having a baby?
He pulls you down by your neck to french kiss you, his tongue twisting around yours. The sheets are soaked by now and you don’t want to even imagine what the staff who have to clean his room will find. Random bits of fluid and the stench of sex heavy in the air, you’ll have to remember to leave some cash for a tip to ease your conscience.
You tighten your walls around him in short bursts until he’s clawing at your ass and smacking it extremely hard as he cums inside you. The stinging is a pleasant catalyst for your own orgasm soon after. You can’t wait to see how dirty you get his car seats.
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bluegiragi · 2 days
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Hi friend!! I've been following you on a couple platforms when it comes to your amazing art!! I know you've talked about ghostprice, but I saw the Price's hand on the back of Kyle's neck and was wondering if you could talk about the relationship between price and gaz? I loved the ghost price one, but I totally understand if you don't have the same write up for these two lol
!!! thank you so much for this ask, because i love thinking about this dynamic in my free time.
lots of reading under the cut!
so, because I like to cherry-pick influences from canon, in the monster au, Gaz and Price met before Gaz got drafted into the 141. Gaz was the harpy escort to a standard military op that got off-track when doing recon, and ended up wrapped up in a territorial dispute with two griffin hybrids. The whole team got stuck sandwiched between the two with neither side willing to let them move, and when Gaz tried to fly above to do some surveillance he got beaten out of the sky by both of them (they don't take kindly to interlopers interfering with griffin disputes). They had to request emergency assistance from the closest party which, by chance, happened to be Price's team.
This all happened after Price lost his wing, and on this mission he collaborated with Gaz to help get (most of) his team out safely without having to rely on his skill of flight. They both made strong impressions on each other then, with Gaz forming the first seeds of a long-term loyalty to Price. When his contract with his current station ended, he was all too happy to get poached for the 141.
Coming from a more interpersonal perspective - Gaz is a harpy, which means he's fiercely independent and bases a lot of his identity on not being reliant on anyone. Price is a dragon, which comes with a lot of pesky hoard instincts that instruct him to 'provide' for his hoard. It means that Gaz dislikes being taken care of and a strong instinctual part of Price is unhappy about that. When they're more intimate, Gaz insists on giving as much as he is getting (if not more) and is always seeking ways to contribute and prove his value to the group. Even though he might be chill by harpy standards, Gaz is still very proud and he gets flustered when forced to accept things without 'earning' it.
(also he might have a little bit of hero worship for price lingering in the recesses of his mind)
Price only having one wing and being essentially grounded also adds an extra layer to their relationship. Harpies put a lot of stock in their flying prowess, so the loss of a wing is truly a world-ending event in their culture and he's extremely uncomfortable broaching the subject with Price even though he'd be happy to talk about it if pushed. He also feels that it is his role to be Price's 'wings' now, which is a sentiment that he hasn't shared to anyone but puts a lot of pressure on himself to live up to. He doesn't think this way out of any sort of pity for Price - his captain has proved time and time again to be the kind of monster worth following - instead, this mentality is him militantly breaking himself down to how useful/valuable he can be to others.
tldr; gaz is bad at accepting care, price wants to take care of him so bad and is slowly figuring out loopholes
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katsukikitten · 1 day
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Mentions of children and a baby, fluffy and then angst. MDNI
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Katsuki wakes up to the sound of laughter, soft giggling before two small bodies crawl into the oversized bed.
"Daddy!" They whisper, or what they call a whisper, having not learned the subtleness of it yet. More of a hushed yell of his title as little hands slap across his bare skin, "Daddy wake up!"
He scoops them to him, pressing them against his scarred chest with a grunt before his eyes flutter open, by the sun alone he can tell it's barely seven am. A glance at his clock confirms it and the kids squeal from how he squeezes them to him. He's barely gotten an hour and a half of sleep and when he glances over his shoulder he sees that you're still in bed, he wonders if it was a late night for you too. You were texting him late last night although that was normal for you, Katsuki still wonders if the newest edition to the family was the cause of your unrest.
Katsuki thinks he can pin his twin boys to him and lull them to sleep for another hour or so, he's done it before but their giggles say otherwise.
"Grandma is comin today to see sissy!" Their hushed yell too loud for Katsuki's liking, at least while you and baby try to sleep. Little hands pressing at his chest and setting off little popping explosions that earn them a fatherly glare although Katsuki was sure yours was sharper than his somehow.
It's befitting that he'd have two little hellions just like himself, a "double curse" his ma has teased about your whole pregnancy but she quietly whispered to Katsuki after she first met the twins, "You were easy to raise."
And the youngest Bakugou, his baby girl, took after you. All of her features a carbon copy of you just as his boys were the spitting image of him.
"We wanna tell her we helped with breakfast!" They're pushing again, although this time without their explosions after the warning glare from their father.
"You'll wake yer mother and yer sister." He grunts, but presses kisses to their faces that they giggle about, "Wait in the kitchen for me yea? But do not touch that stove."
"Okay daddy!" Their "whispers" lost and a full on yell before their eyes widen from their mistake, Katsuki and the boys holding their breath only for the baby to coo and you to let out a sleepy "Hmm?'
Katsuki knows that you can still fall asleep, that you'd have risen if you were more awake so that he could sleep but he's up now and he doesn't mind. He's glad the boys have listened to him that yes, momma is a super woman but that daddy can help them too.
And Katsuki cannot say he isn't proud that the boys love to cook with him.
After the coast is clear he sends them on their way with a playful swat to their butts that they giggle about, always rough housing those two. Encouraged of course by Bakugou but when it comes to the baby their hands shake with a little nervousness asking for gloves because they know their quirk could hurt their baby sister and that they are not in control of their gift yet.
Katsuki rises enough to sit on the side of the bed in nothing but his boxers, chest and half of his face scarred from a tale long ago that his kids beg for the story but he never tells. Not yet anyway. Rubbing his large palms across his handsome features, bromine eyes softened to candied apples thanks to his family. Ash blonde stubble looking more grey and crows feet next to his shining eyes.
He yawns, hears his boys giggle as they try to get the usual stuff for pancakes. One helping the other to climb the counter in order to reach the pancake mix and they're good boys. They don't touch the stove while they wait.
Katsuki rises fully now, grabbing a shirt from the clean hamper and sliding it on. Coming over to your side of the bed to look at you. Sleeping soundly and when he spies the bags under your eyes being kissed by your long lashes, he's more than thankful the boys woke him up instead. He leans over, kisses your temple softly, runs his hand feather light over your arm before his cooing baby girl. Talking to herself softly as she stares up at the ceiling, arms moving here and there but nothing too excitable.
And then she sees her father and her face lights up, pure joy just like when she sees her mom. Not fully Katsuki knows this but maybe it's even better to know that his baby girl still knows that these blurry shapes are him. Her cooing and babble louder now, excited as she reaches up for him and he gives a big smile pulling her up to press her into his arms.
"Good morning sweetheart." He coos back, a kiss to her wispy hairline. Softly shutting the door as he takes her to her room, passing by his boys and shutting the door to each. You insisted they should have separate rooms that you didn't want the twins to feel like one person and although they both had "sleep overs" often, they loved their own space as well.
"Boys you'll have to pick up yer rooms a bit before grams gets here." He says to them as he walks down the hall after baby girl has a fresh diaper and outfit, at least for now.
"Even though she doesn't go in there."
"Yea grams never sees our room unless we show her!'
"Mmhmm even though she doesn't go in there. It's still nice to have a straightened room ain't it?" Katsuki looks to them as they play in the water more than they wash their hands.
The morning is easy somehow and Katsuki is so so thankful he waited as long as he did to have kids. He's much more mellow now, can do more of the gentle parenting shit the baby books talked about. And yes his mother yelled at him often and he knows his ma loves him, he just doesn't want that for his kids. And yea he does yell sometimes, gets frustrated or blows up, they're two six year olds with big ass feelings and little bodies.
But he always apologizes
You taught him that and if you couldn't collect yourself either you always pointed out it isn't kind to yell, apologized and explained your own big feelings. Plus when you had the right partner parenting could be easy, it could be a lot of fucking fun. At least that's what Bakugou has always thought.
He supports you and he listened to his Ma the first time when Mitsuki said you weren't going to ask for help and that Katsuki needed to step up. So he'd take turns before you become exhausted and burned out, he split chores or took on more when you couldn't. And as always you did the same for him.
Now is just one of those weird times where you both are exhausted and trying your best to work with the schedule you have but Katsuki thinks you need a little more rest than him even if you've been home. Even if you can send the boys to grams or your own parents or to their cousins house for a sleepover, you still deserve rest because at the end of the day no matter how much he could step up kids will always want their moms first.
"Katsuki." You call gently from the hall as the boys bounce around while a TV show plays on low, their giggling hushed while Katsuki "spoils" the baby and keeps her held to him.
"Ah did we wake ya?"
"MOM WE HELPED WITH PANCAKES!" They scream excitedly, rushing to their half asleep mom to cling to your legs. Chattering away about how they helped with everything even dishes. How yours is in the microwave and how daddy said he'd heat them up. You respond, brushing your hands over their little skulls, pushing down their hair and they hum on.
"You came home late, you should have woken me up." You say softly, barely enough time to get ready before Mitsuki was due here in less than twenty minutes.
"Haaah? And let you hog all this to yerself?" He gestures to the living room where it looks as if a bomb went off, toys, stuffed animals and blankets scattered about that you and Katsuki would have to sing the clean up song just to have it all put away. Mostly anyway, it'd all come out again as they showed their grams and gramps their collection.
You laugh loudly, god damn does he love that sound. Loves that it echoes in his own chest enough to make him smirk or chuckle. Watches you come closer to kiss the babies forehead from over the back of the couch before kissing him on the lips.
The boys of course erupt in a chorus of EWS before they're getting a look from you both. This was definitely still a lightly teasing household.
"Go get ready. The number one hero can handle this." He leans up for another kiss that you give him of course, your once sharp claws now rounded to soft nails scratch at his scruff.
"Kay."
You're out of the shower and dressed without a second to spare, the doorbell rings. The boys wait impatiently to see if it's okay to answer the door, hopping up and down because they were never allowed to swing it open even if they were expecting someone. When Katsuki confirms on the door bell camera it's his mother, he rises to stand at the door to open it.
Sunlight bleeds in, obstructs the view of his mother for a moment
And then Katsuki wakes up.
His alarm blaring from his bedside table making his heart race with adrenaline, his palm poised and ready. Glowing a deep orange as he collects himself a moment. Growling as he smashes another phone turning to stare at the ceiling. He dares not reach out to your side of the bed even though he knows what he'll find.
Still, his curious, masochist palms reach out to find cool sheets. Sheets on your side of the bed that haven't been warmed for over two years, why would they?
No giggling laughter can be heard in the home, no cooing little girl he can greet with a smile after a hard ass night at work because the four of you made it worth it over and over again.
No visit from his ma on his rare few days off because there was no laughter, no cooing, and there may never be.
There never was because you left him two years ago. Left his sheets cool, the house he bought for his future family frigid in your absence no matter how high he turned up the heat or let the sun bleed into his home.
He couldn't even call it a home, homes were warm, joyful, this?
Well this was just another roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, a fridge to hold milk for his protein shakes.
Nothing for bacon and eggs or pancakes. Nothing for formula in the little bottles that were set out on the grass looking drying rack he'd tell his sons not to play with.
Katsuki rises enough to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing his handsome features with big palms. Fingers lingering over scars from a tale long ago but with no sons to beg for the story.
He hardly has the strength to rise from the bed as he comes to terms that all it ever was and all that his two sons and daughter that he saw so vividly, ever will be
Was a dream.
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yuujispinkhair · 2 days
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-- Sukuna's Camera Roll 📸
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♛ Kuna mostly takes pictures of his loves, which are me, himself, and food ;) He enjoys cooking for us and is really proud of his creations, so he has to document them, of course. His gym selfies are important to him, too, because he likes to send them to his brother (when Yuuji isn't at the gym with him) to bully motivate him. And he sends them to me, too, because he knows I am drooling over them. Other than that, it's pictures of our dates at fancy restaurants or just doing everyday things like taking walks or going grocery shopping. And he is a secret little romantic who snaps pictures of book pages or poetry that remind him of me 💗
Thank you so much to @itadoreyu @vagabond-umlaut @zanarkandskylines for the tag!! This was so much fun!! I feel like most people have already done this but I am tagging:
@sukunastoy @fushigurro @dark-mnjiro @lizarts01 @thefallofruins @sukunasweetheart @nagumoan @blauerregen @thebellearchives + everyone who hasn't done this yet!!
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mysteryshoptls · 14 hours
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SSR Epel Felmier - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines
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When Summoned:  I'm gonna be a supporter for the museum, huh. I'm a little worried whether I can really do it, but... I'ma do mah best!
Summon Line: Art seems pretty difficult to actually do, but... A museum would kinda be fun to look around, I guess? Hope we can enjoy ourselves here today.
Groooovy!!: Almost anyone would want to take a big bite out of a shiny, red apple if they're given one, don'tcha think?
Home: A 100th anniversary, awesome!
Home Idle 1: Apparently the Thorn Fairy covered a whole castle with briars in an instant. I wonder what kind of magic she used... Something to make them grow faster?
Home Idle 2: People who can draw are amazing. I have trouble trying to picture what I want to draw, let alone actual talent.
Home Idle 3: The way Riddle-san was lecturing on the Queen of Hearts was just like how a professor would. Man... I need to study much harder like him...
Home Idle - Login: I ain't know nothin' 'bout paintin', but they's got some hangin' up I's seen b'fore. Oops, uh... This is such a fun museum, wouldn't you say?
Home Idle - Groovy: There's this cafe that Cater-san recommended to me. But it looks way too flashy... Don't think I can bring myself to go alone...
Home Tap 1: Did you buy any souvenirs? I chose a memo stand that looks like the poison apple the Fairest Queen made.
Home Tap 2: The King of Beasts looks so proud and hella cool in every painting they got of him here. One day, I'll be just someone just as amazing...!
Home Tap 3: Looks like Idia-san's really into the Lord of the Underworld. I saw him taking in a painting all serious-like with his arms folded and everything.
Home Tap 4: Jade-san was super engrossed reading the description of the painting showing the potion that the Fairest Queen concocted. He really looked like he was enjoying himself.
Home Tap 5: Huh, am I wearing this outfit wrong!? Oh, you just came over to tell me it looked good on me... Whew, you scared me. Thanks...
Home Tap - Groovy: Was there any specific painting you liked? That one, huh... If I get the chance, I'll go take a closer look at it!
Duo: [EPEL]: Time fer us ta git down 'n do it to it, Cater-san! [CATER]: E-Epel-chan, what did you just say?
Birthday Login Message: Thanks for the birthday present! Oh yeah, let me give you something in return. How about some skin cream? I got some from of my dormmates, but there's no way I can use up all of it... They're all nicely packed in a cardboard box, so I'll swing by Ramshackle later to drop them off. Don't worry about me, just take 'em all!
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Requested by Anonymous.
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konigsblog · 4 hours
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who is the best eating pussy :^(
best at eating pussy?? that's an easy answer... price.
perhaps it's because he's experienced and knows exactly how to please you, but good lord, he leaves you shocked every single time. it feels as if it's the first time he's eaten you out every time, with the pleasurable sensation burning inside of you leaving your pussy swollen and drooling.
your tasty and delicious juices coat his fluffy and scruffy beard, grinding your aroused pussy back and forth against his face while he flicks his tongue between your slit teasingly to rile you up. price isn't bothered about the positions, although he prefers having you seated comfortably on his face, allowing him to roll his pink tongue against your sensitive clit while holding you down against his mouth using his strong, burly arms. his beard reeks of your strong arousal afterwards and he wears the scent like cologne, almost too proud of himself.
price has his own special techniques. he'll bury his thick digits inside your warm sex and will grind his warm and wet tongue against your sensitive clit. he's addicted to the sounds you let out, so noisy and attention-deprived, earning yourself a slap to your thigh or rear and being told to hush, that you're being too loud.
he enjoys bending you over his table as well, semi-public sex where anyone could catch you guys.
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spooky-wisp · 2 days
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"I had to talk to you."
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Repost from other account
2.4k words
CW: Heavy flirtation, canon divergence (S4 end events didn't happen), College Student!Steve, Steve has shit eyesight
October 13th, 1989
Steve sighs, leaning back on the drivers side of his 1983 BMW. Burgundy paint starting to chip on the hood, the car becoming less appealing day by day. Girls passing by not even looking in his direction anymore. He was old news in Hawkins after people found out he had finally started at a college half an hour away in Fort Wayne. Just starting his life like everyone else did 4 years ago just wasn't appealing to most girls.
At least not Hawkins girls.
But at this point he didn't care. He was proud of himself for pulling his life together after all the bullshit he had been put through. With saving an entire town too many god damn times. Cutting his dad off when his parents divorced. Moving out to get a rented house with his best friend Robin. Just what he learned he needed over time.
Getting into a good school by himself with no help was just a cherry on top of the fuck you sundae he graciously served his past problems.
He was satisfied with what he had right now.
Dustin walks out of the new game shop in the newest strip mall to grace Hawkins. Steve looks up, pushing his Ray-Ban sunglasses onto his head.
"You made it out before, Robin. I'm surprised." Dustin glanced at the instrument shop a few doors down, then back to Steve. "You get what Eddie needed?"
"Mostly yeah. She's still getting her trumpet fixed?" Steve shrugs at Dustin's question and slides his sunglasses down in place again.
"She probably got distracted looking at something shiny and new. You know Robins crow brain sometimes." Dustin laughs, looking into his bag, shuffling a few things around inside.
Steve looked over at the liquor store at the end of the strip mall. Looking back at Dustin, he taps the top of the car. His head snapped up, eyes a bit surprised at the sudden noise.
"You want anything?" Steve asks, tilting his head back towards the store.
"Coke? If they got it." Dustin simply replied before getting in the back seat. Steve nods and walks to the liquor store.
The bell chimes over his head as he walks through the door. He takes in the warmth of the store and the radio playing over the speakers on the ceiling. Such a nice contrast to the crisp Autumn air outside.
He turns heading down an isle of assorted liquor bottles and bar accessories before finally stopping at the fridge. Humming along to the song over the radio, mumbling the lyrics to 'I wanna know what love is' absentmindedly.
Sliding his glasses down his nose, he squints at the selection. All the labels are blurry the farther he is, he steps forward rubbing his eyes and sure doesn't help with the florescent lighting blinding him from above.
God I need to get my eyes checked.
Opening the fridge, he grabs the 3 soft drinks and a 6-pack for later when he hears a metal scrapping and whoosh next to him. Followed by a muffled but panicked "Shit!"
Looking over, he sees the back of a squatting woman struggling with a metal shelf slipping out of one of the fridges.
Walking over, he quickly puts his things down and pushes the shelf back in. The metal shelf, cold against his warm skin as he reaches into the fridge, fixing the fasteners back into place.
An issue he's all too familiar with working at Family Video. The fridge racks always got loose and every time it happened he was always made to clean them up. He could only imagine the mess a bunch of glasses and beer would have made.
"Thank you so much!" The woman speaks as Steve stands up, slowly closing the door. Looking back, he finally sees your face. His lips slightly part as you continue talking, he can't hear a word you're saying right now.
All he can hear is the very oddly convenient Foreigner song playing over the store radio as he takes in every detail of your gorgeous face. From your shiny hair to your bright smile. The vibrant colored nail polish on your fingers you're waving as you talk. You're unfamiliar, he's never seen you before, but you're an absolute stunner of a woman.
Steve never thought of himself as a love at first sight kind of guy. But right now he was undoubtedly being proven wrong by the spark he was feeling, not to mention the nervous knot in his stomach.
"But really you're a life saver... Thank you." You stop talking, looking at him. Your face falls as he perks up, realizing he's just been staring like a complete idiot this entire time.
"You're welcome!" He spoke, choking almost over how inappropriately loud he was for a second. Feeling the effect of not talking to women for a while really hit him. You look down at his soon-to-be purchases.
"Full Sail Amber. Good beer." You comment, making him look at the floor and nod.
Crouching down, he grabs his things and stands cracking his head on one of the fridge door handles. His sunglasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He stands up wedging his soft drink between his side and arm. Rubbing his head with a hiss.
"You okay?" You ask with a slight chuckle. Bending down, you grab the sunglasses, Steve moves his hand, grabbing the bottom of the door handle to shield your head from injury.
"Yeah, thanks." Before he gets to put his hand out to take his Ray-Bans back, you slide them on his head with a soft smile.
God she's so fucking pretty.
"You're welcome. And thanks again for... Saving me from paying for a full shelf of beer." She turned down the isle to another part of the store.
Part of Steve wants to follow you and try chatting you up, but the slight embarrassment of hurting his head just keeps him from doing so.
He turns, goes to the front of the store and makes his purchases. Heading outside, he walks to his car, finally seeing Robin in her usual spot, the passenger seat. Opening the driver's door, he slips in.
"There you are!" Robin looked at him, her trumpet case in-between her legs on the floor of the car.
"What's with the face?" Dustin asks, Steve looking at him in the rearview, glaring.
"Shut up Henderson." He hands them their sodas, moving to close his car door when he hears the bell from the liquor store chime.
Out you walk, starting across the parking lot to a top-down red 86' Volkswagen Cabriolet. Steve freezes, staring again. He really can't help but stare.
"Oooh." Robin and Dustin both taunt him, making him sigh. He needs more friends, fewer annoying friends.
"She's pretty." Robin says looking at Dustin.
"Too pretty to talk to, apparently." Dustin adds, laughing as he looks back at Steve.
"I talked to her in the store." Dustin raised his eyebrows, pushing his baseball cap up a bit.
"You asked her out?"
"No." Steve watches you load your bag into the back seat and start pulling the top up on your car.
"Not too late!" Robin smiled, taking a sip of her drink. Dustin looked at her.
"He's not gonna do it."
"No, he's gonna do it."
Steve feels like he has a devil and an angel bickering on his shoulders right now. His foot meets the new asphalt of the parking lot as you open your driver's door.
He's quickly out of the driver's seat.
"Holy shit he's doing it." Dustin comments as he shuts the door on them.
He stops at the bumper of his car, hearing your car engine click over. Music pours out of your open windows before you turn it down quickly.
The universe is screaming at him to talk to you when he starts hearing that familiar Tears for Fears song, 'Head Over Heels'.
Please don't pull away, please don't pull away.
He nearly sprints across the parking lot out of fear of missing his chance. Upon reaching the car, he knocks on the back window, pulling you from looking for something in the console.
"Hi..." He says awkwardly, approaching the window. Leaning on the door, he smiles as you smile back.
"Hi. You need something?" He gets so agitated that you smirk up at him.
'Why'd you have to be so God damn pretty?'
"Sorry if this is weird, but I had to talk to you." He started, finally being able to say something. Your eyes go half shut with a soft nod.
"Talk to me?" He nods, clenching the door frame for a second. "Go ahead then. Talk."
His eyes go wide in surprise at your sudden confidence. Steve stammered for a second.
"Uh... At the risk of sounding crazy or desperate... You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." You can feel your body warm up as he gives the most genuine smile you've seen on a man in a while.
"Mmhm, go on."
"Are you by chance single? Or like... Are you even attracted to men at all?" He asks, sheepishly smiling.
"Yes, and yes." Your smirk slowly turns into a grin as he squats to eye level now, feeling a bit more confident after your answer.
"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington." He smiles again hearing you reply with your name. "Are you new to Hawkins?"
"I am actually. I just moved here from the city and needed to stay nearby for school."
"Where are you going?"
"Trine University." His eyes go wide, the same school he goes to. What are the odds?
"Really? I actually go there too. Education major." You look him up and down. You never pegged him for the teacher type.
"Software Engineering major."
"So you're smart and gorgeous. Good to know." He smirks, finally feeling like himself when talking as your flush finally becomes noticeable. "You like movies?"
"What kind of psychopath doesn't like movies?" He laughs at your response, leaning in closer to the window.
"Lemme be more specific. The new Halloween 5 movie came out today. You interested in seeing it? Maybe with me tonight at the drive-in theater in Lafayette. We can have dinner after. All my treat, of course." He can see the sparkle in your eyes, that spark he felt looking at you before is still lingering around him.
"What's in it for me?" You playfully ask. He cocks his head to the side, leaning it on his arm for a second.
"A fun night out with a gentleman, I promise I'm fun." You chuckle, rolling your eyes, he knows you want to say yes. "Please?"
He'd never said please before when asking a girl out. It didn't feel embarrassing like he thought it would. You turn your attention back to the console looking for something.
Pulling out a napkin and pen, you quickly write down your number and address. Turning back, you hold it out to him as he takes it.
"I'm free at 8. And dress nicely. You're taking me somewhere decent after the movie."
"I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find if that's what you want. I don't care. As long as I get to see you again." You laugh at his bluntness, it's like music to his ears.
"That won't be necessary. I don't need to be spoiled."
"What if I want to spoil you?" That caught you off guard as you didn't respond right away. He let a soft breath escape his mouth. "You like roses?"
"White roses." You reply, he nods, standing up again and folding the napkin, storing it in his back jean pocket for safe keeping.
"I'll be sure to remember that." You two just stare at each other in silence for a minute. No man's ever looked at you like Steve has right now, it makes your heart race from nervousness.
"I'll see you at 8 o'clock then." You look past him for a moment and back to him. "Tell your friends I said hello since they like to stare so much."
Raising an eyebrow, Steve turned his head. He sees Robin poking her head over the roof of the car and Dustin sitting on the rolled down window frame. They quickly hurry back into the car, noticing they've been caught. He should be embarrassed, but he fully expects their behavior from being friends for so long.
"Ignore them." Steve says, sighing as he looks back at you. "I'll see you at 8."
He turned away towards his car, trying to stay as confident as he was before turning his back. Reaching his car, he pops the door open, clutching it for dear life as he silently collects himself. Robin poked her head across the driver's seat to look up at him.
"You good dude?" She asks, concerned but also excited as he just nods.
You pull out of your parking spot, stopping behind his car and honk once to get his attention. Dustin pops his head out the back window as Robin looks out her open door. Steves head snaps up at you as you lean on your window frame, chin on fist with the most shit eating grin on your face.
"See you at 8 sexy~" You called to him. And then you have the balls to blow him a kiss before peeling out of the parking lot.
Steve silently gets in the car. Robin shuts her door as Steve does his. Dustin sits forward looking at Steve, who's just gripping his steering wheel, the adrenaline starting to wear off.
"Dude, she's so into you, into you!" Dustin breaks the silence as Robin nods.
"And I'd say it's the same for Harrington here." Robin grins as a massive smile spreads across Steve's face.
He starts excitedly thrashing frontwards and backwards. Enough to shake the car and look like he's about to rip the steering wheel from it's column. He lets out an excited yell, causing his two friends to laugh at him.
He let out a long breath, looking at them.
"She says hi by the way."
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syoddeye · 2 days
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under the table
gaz x f!reader x price. ~2k words. +18 only. What is this? Who knows. Just wanted to write a little smut. Very loosely based off this. tags: dubcon, manipulation, semi-public fingering
Ten months into your marriage, you give into Kyle’s pestering. No, perhaps that’s an uncharitable way to phrase it. You finally accept one of his many invitations to meet his commanding officer, his Captain. 
(Though, is there any other way to describe Kyle’s incessant requests? When he asks repeatedly over breakfast or on dates, or when he drapes himself over your back mid-fuck, slowing to a teasing grind in an effort to make you change your mind? Think you’d like him, babe, like him almost as much as–)
You tell him it’s weird to bring up his boss while he’s inside you, but he just laughs and wipes the sweat off your brow.
“He’s important to me. He saw my potential. Just like you.” And how can you refuse when he puts it like that?
You tell him one evening after dinner, drying the dishes as he washes. Ceramic meets steel in a clatter as he drops a plate to cage you into the countertop, pressing kisses to your neck. You can feel his big, pleased smile against your skin, the chorus of thank yous. He barely remembers to turn the sink handle before he drags you off to bed, dishes half done.
It’s only drinks at the pub around the corner, and you don’t know why Kyle’s stressing and fussing over your outfit. Not every day does your husband pick your outfit, so you play along. You perch on the end of the bed to judge the dresses he presents and laugh at the fact that he thinks you’re pulling on three-inch heels for a place with tacky floors.
Kyle relishes that you must lean on him the whole way to the pub, the impractical shoes seemingly bent on catching every crack in the walk. His grip around your waist tightens the moment you cross the threshold, his grin a sly crescent.
He settles you into a booth in the corner, stepping away to buy your drinks. Beneath the table, you tug at the hem of the dress he convinced you to wear. It’s a classic black number, short, one of his favorites, and a bit much for your surroundings. But the fact that he pulled it out tells you the end of the evening will be good for you, that you’ll be duly rewarded for finally agreeing to meet his Captain.
A man appears at the table, eyes giving your top half an unabashedly appreciative once-over. Your mouth falls open as he slides onto the curved bench, stammering out a protest.
“Excuse me, I’m–my husband is at the bar, I’m flattered, but I’m–“
“Easy, love, just wanted a moment alone. Get a look at you.” The deep timbre of his voice is practically a purr, his mouth an amused line beneath an imperial beard.
Your brow pinches in annoyance. This sort of thing doesn’t happen often anymore, not with the pretty ring on your hand. You make a point to lay it on the table. “I’m not here on display, so if you’d please fuck off–“
“Captain Price,” Kyle chirps, a pint in each hand. “See you’ve met the missus.”
A hand pinches your knee, and it’s not attached to your husband.
“I did. Spirited, like you said.” The hand retracts as Captain Price exits the booth, exchanging a look with Kyle you don’t quite understand. “Back in a tick.”
You watch the broad-shouldered man head for a drink, then glare at your husband. “‘Spirited’?”
“Aren’t you?” Kyle chuckles, sidling up until his leg is flush with yours. He pushes the lager to the space in front of you and slings his arm over the back of the booth. “Did he scare you, babe? He can be a bit friendly, but he’s harmless.”
You sincerely doubt it. ‘Friendly’ is a loaded word. It’s how you describe Kyle and his hands’ bad habit of wandering. Ask him, and he’ll say he’s simply smitten and proud to have such a cute thing for a wife. Like it is now, his arm practically lives across your shoulders or around your waist when you’re out and about until his hand ‘gets cold’ or ‘lonely’, and he slots it between your legs or rests it on the swell of your ass. ‘Friendly’ is not something you want his boss to be.
Cordial. Polite. ‘Friendly’ in the way bosses are supposed to be, detached and unassuming. 
The older man scoots in close, muttering something about the noise, effectively sandwiching you between him and Kyle. You retreat into your husband’s side as their conversation kicks off, catching up after weeks of leave. A few names you recognize from Kyle’s stories sprinkle in, giving you minimal context. You drink your beer and nod when appropriate, but otherwise, you people-watch. Though, you don’t watch the right people.
Over your head, behind your back, Kyle stares at his Captain, gaze darting down every so often to how the fabric of your dress pulls taut over your sides. The sliver of lace from your brassiere peeking out underneath a dress strap. He watches a man he trusts with his life openly examine his wife’s profile, effortlessly carrying on the conversation without meeting Kyle’s eyes once. 
“Have we bored you to tears, love?” 
You lift your head, pressing against Kyle, when Price plants his forearm on the table to lean closer. “Not at all. I don’t mind listening, Captain.”
“Told you to call me ‘John’.”
“Sorry,” You apologize. “John.”
John hums, musing. “So she can listen.”
The mild condescension leaves a taste in your mouth, but Kyle squeezes your shoulder, soothing.
“She is, sir.” 
John’s gaze is heavy, dropping to your mouth to your cleavage in one swoop before excusing himself to buy the next around.
“Kyle,” You turn, finding him staring at the back of John’s head. “Can we leave soon? I don’t feel well,” you lie, shifting in your seat.
“Really?” His eyes snap down, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You sure? You haven’t even finished your first.”
“Please,” you glance sidelong at John. I–We can skip to the good part at home.” Usually, the offer works. It gets him on his feet quickly, tugging you to the car or along the walk within seconds. But he hesitates, mirroring your quick look at John.
“One more drink,” Kyle insists, tugging you back into place and forcing you to face forward. His breath hits your neck as he dips his head to whisper into your ear. “Think you can handle it? Be good for me?”
The tone of his voice makes you consciously aware of your nipples protruding through the thin material of your bra, instantly rising to attention at the sheer promise behind his words. Without thinking, your knees press together, capturing his attention. You watch his tongue glide over his lip. Surely, he won’t. Not with his boss here.
His arm remains in place, and his free hand inches closer atop the table. 
“Kyle, don’t.”
“Don’t what, babe?” He smirks, looking away as John reclaims his spot.
“Miss anything?” 
“Not at all.”
While they return to their chat, you cannot disconnect as easily as before. Both men press against your sides despite the booth’s available space. Your heart thrums in your chest, ratcheted to a speed that makes you fidget. Twitch. Kyle’s honeyed words repeat in your head, and you subtly squirm, feeling the heat between your legs pulse.
You don’t notice Kyle’s hand slide off the table until his fingers cup your bare knee. You turn your head, lips parting, but he’s not looking at you. You swallow hard when he pulls, opening your legs. His name is on the tip of your tongue, confusion mixing with embarrassment, and it fizzles into a choked silence. Another hand, broader and more calloused, slips over your opposite thigh, searching.
The din of the pub meets the rush of blood in your ears. The edges of your vision blur, your thoughts static, and it isn’t until a finger drags up the gusset of your underwear that you come crashing into consciousness. You jerk, and two bodies of solid muscle keep you in place like bookends.
“Easy,” John purrs, repeating the movement, slower.
“Kyle–”
“It’s okay, babe,” He coos in your ear.
Your eyes fall to your lap, where Kyle’s hand wrenches your dress to your upper thighs, giving his Captain access. Indignation swirls, beating violently against your skull, a swell of shame racing with a rogue wave of want.
“We leave in a week, right? Cap could use a boost. Think you can send him off with something nice?”
“Kyle, I don’t–” Your breath hitches as a second finger joins the first in rubbing gentle circles, pressing into the dampening cotton. Your leg tries to reflexively close, and Kyle’s hand returns to your knee to stop it. Your hands, formerly weighed down by pure shock, reach for John’s forearm, sinking your nails into skin dusted in coarse hair.
“Babe–” Kyle starts sternly.
John tuts, unaffected by the angry marks you impress into his arm. “It’s alright, Gaz, I don’t mind. We’re just warming up, gettin’ used to the idea.” 
No, no, you are not getting used to the idea. You’re not. You’re not letting him, Kyle’s boss, John, touch you like this in a pub where anyone could see if they stare too long. Any second, you’re going to yell. Tear Kyle a new one. Then John’s fingers deftly slide your underwear out of the way, and instead of a scream, a squeak pushes out as a finger pushes in. Kyle’s hand lifts from your shoulder to guide your face toward his for a kiss.
John’s finger dips in, teasing, and you hear him groan while Kyle’s tongue licks into your mouth, keeping you fixed to him until you need air. You suck it in through short pants, eyes glazed over with a cloud of lust. You’re stupefied and trembling, inhaling sharply when the finger sinks to the webbing and curls. 
“How is she?” Kyle asks, pressing kisses to your temple as your chin dips to your chest.
“Warm, fuckin’ soaked,” John chuckles at how it makes you clench.
Your eyes, half-lidded, stare into the shadowed valley between your open legs. The table blocks the dim lamp above, but the slick on John’s digit, as it withdraws, catches the light. The noise of the bar ought to drown it out, and perhaps it does, yet you hear the lurid, wet sound of his finger plunging in.
The men hold their breath as you go offline, mouth opening and shutting several times like a fish dying in too-shallow of a tidepool. The hand continues its work, stoking a heat you want to both smother and feed. 
“Kyle,” You try again, a breathier, whiny pitch to your whisper.
“I know, I know,” He kneads the fat of your thigh, knuckles bumping into his Captain’s. 
The men exchange a few words you can’t make out. Your foggy eyes lift to scan the bar, some lucidity begging you to at least check for an audience. In the corner, there’s nowhere for someone to linger or gawk to catch what’s happening beneath the table. In a distant corner of your mind, it occurs to you that Kyle must’ve planned this. 
A mounting pressure digs your fingertips into John’s arm harder and harder, which he responds to with a quicker, more insistent rhythm. Kyle’s hand grips your thigh, but there’s no need with how wide you spread them yourself. You bury your teeth into your lower lip, then slap a palm over your mouth. The heel of John’s palm grinds into your clit. 
“Lookit you,” John puffs into your ear. “Thought you weren’t on display?” 
You come, whimpering behind your hand, squeezing John’s finger in a vise.
Somewhere in the bar, a glass breaks, and a chorus of drunken voices boo. Two fingers slip out of your heat and pat the ruined cotton against your sopping cunt.
Outside, the temperature dropped considerably, not that you’d feel it with your husband’s arm over your shoulders and his Captain’s hooked around your waist.
The world’s fuzzy, their words clear.
“She’s a good girl, Gaz.”
“You ought to apply, sir. You might get lucky.”
“Why would I do that, when we’ve got her?”
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see-arcane · 3 days
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I am almost fine with people saying he has one brain cell, because I have seen dozens of people make the worse claim that he is "an arrogant, smug, proud of his rationality Victorian who laughs at the locals for their superstitions."
It is such a prevalent assesment that it's now considered a core character trait of his. When today's entry indicates nothing of the sort.
UH OH, YOU’VE ACTIVATED MY TANGENT CARD
(Text Brick Incoming)
Jonathan’s fundamental flaw at this stage does involve looking down on or viewing the locals and their traditions as quaint/idolatrous/ridiculous et al. He uses poor terminology too, owing to the Doylist reason of his author’s knowledge and biases, while the Watsonian reason is easy enough to read as Jonathan 1) Having to rely solely on biased/incomplete knowledge from his homeland’s writings on the place and 2) What I think is him trying to overcompensate as a trained reflex
I’ve always pictured Jonathan and Mina as having not only a lower social and monetary standing, but possibly a hindrance of race. (Case in point, I suspect a certain unique prop Jonathan brandishes later on is something he inherited, not something picked up by happenstance.)
That said—they are poor, they are not the idealized picture of the fair English Citizen…but they are both polite, charming, hardworking, and masters of ~making friends~ as a defense mechanism. And I’d bet money that included relying on what few positive nods their peers allowed.
“You’re so nice! So industrious! Your physiognomy really counters your origins! And you are wise enough to look down on those silly foreigners, aren’t you? Of course you are! You’re one of the good ones.”
Now, regardless of what headcanon is landed on as far as race/ethnicity/other backgrounds go, those last points are key. Because they go towards Being a Good Englishman/woman. Being wiser than to buy into fretting non-English superstitions. Knowing to ogle the people of other lands like curiosities in a zoo. Judging people by their face or the shape of their skull. This is the Norm. This is Good of the Victorian Englishman Abroad.
And we see Jonathan hold to all these stereotypes…to a degree. But we see within these same early entries that his instincts and general good nature chafe against that social training. He’s too much himself to do entirely as a Proper Englishman should.
He went out of his way to study all the limited info he had access to, incomplete or half-informed as it was. He delighted in learning everything he could of the places and people as he traveled, wanting to embrace and be educated on the land. And even when a lifetime of advising against it, of insistence upon derision, tried to take over when the crucifix was offered? He still accepted it. He still wears it even when the old woman departs, whether or not he believes in its importance.
And, vitally, his instincts are very Very awake to the fact that Something is Off. A Proper Englishman (and many an oblivious or stubborn dad in a ghostly horror movie) would shrug this unease off at once. But Jonathan doesn’t. He remains on Dracula’s route only because he has no other choice. All he does is mention quietly that he hopes Mina gets his diary if he happens to die on this journey.
Imagine that. Bracing for and acknowledging the sense that You Might Die on This Little Business Trip and just…having to go along with it. Because what will you tell your boss otherwise? What will you tell your fiancée?
These aren’t the concerns of a well-off stuffy snob of a man. It’s the resignation of someone who understands they live on the lowest rung of the ladder and that they will risk losing what little progress they’ve made if they dare to turn back.
As for sneering at the locals’ superstitions, period, consider: How likely would anyone really be to suddenly believe in monsters after coming out of the background Jonathan has? What could possibly have convinced him of the reality of the situation OTHER THAN SEEING IT IN PERSON? (Note, a key plot point for certain other characters later!)
The point of his being unable to take the supernatural aspect at face value is that, well, Why Would Anyone Immediately Jump to a Supernatural Conclusion in His Place?
What possible context does he have here!? Maybe he should have read Dracula first, ha ha—
Oh wait. He can’t do that. Why?
Because this man has never read Dracula BECAUSE HE IS LIVING AND WRITING THE BOOK DRACULA!!
Anyway.
tl;dr: I am very tired of both the Stuffy Victorian Snobprick and Oblivious Idiotbaby takes on my good friend Jonathan Harker
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anisangeldust · 3 days
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May the fourth be with you 🎀
(Today is my mom’s bday!)
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Imagine that Anakin has been busy all day, never once having the opportunity to dote on his precious girl. Copious training sessions have left him exhausted, and the only thing he’s craving right now is you and your warm cunt. You aren’t force sensitive, sometimes he forgets, and that makes it more difficult, so he reaches out with a phantom force hand until he finds you on your guys’ bed.
The feeling of nothing yet the delicious sensation of hands on your clit makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, Anakin is coming, and you can feel that’s he’s needing you. The feeling is gone as quickly as it came, but the message stuck, Anakin needed you, and that was his way of communicating from so far away.
Anakin had already shed himself of his armor, the clunky metal discarded in the doorway of your shared apartment. He was ridding himself of his shirt, his abs glistened like a glazed donut, and turning a sharp corner to your bed. He’d never been more proud when he saw you in your prettiest lingerie, propped up on your knees and lip jutted in a pout.
“Oh princess, you knew what daddy needed didn’t you?” He cooed, picking you up in his strong arms and played you back down on your back, spreading your legs open and using the force to tease your sensitive clit. “So good for me baby, such an obedient girl for daddy, you know what obedient girls get baby? They get rewards, and daddy is going to reward you.” He murmurs and tugs off your panties, pressing them to his face and inhaling with a ravenous groan. Quickly unbuckling his pants, he pulls out his hard cock and lines up with your puffy hole.
“Sorry I couldn’t prep you today baby, js’ needed you so bad, think you can take it?” He teases and slides his fat tip against your slimy pussy. A small chuckle leaves his chest when you nod frantically and blubber out “yes daddy!” And “I’m your good girl”, he presses one hand on your stomach and slides in, the squelch sound is almost pornographic, and the thrusts he’s giving are heavenly. Anakin pins your hands above your head with the force and uses the power to toy with your sensitive bud, enjoying how he can see the lack of thoughts in your mind.
There was so satisfying about something as sacred as the force being used to make is cockslut of a girlfriend look so beautifully dumb.
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xmalfoyweasleyx · 12 hours
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Tiny shadows - Azriel x reader (blurb)
Summary: your daughter starts showing first signs of her shadow powers when you are on a mission, Azriel is proud but freaks out a little without you there. (fluff)
Word count: 1k
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The woods of the autumn court were foggy. You were on a mission for three days already, eager to go home to your daughter and mate, Azriel. You were picking up your stuff and putting them in your backpack when you felt a little tug in your chest. That’s weird; normally Azriel didn’t ever call you while you’re on a mission. Panic surged through you. Was something amiss? Was it Azriel's panic or your own coursing through the bond?
“Is everything okay, baby?”, you called, receiving no respons. You started to pack faster, ready to winnow home as fast as possible. But then you felt the tug again. "Shadows", his panicked voice echoed through the bond. What did he mean by that?
“What? Is something wrong with your shadows, Az? Are you okay?”. No answer. That was enough. You grabbed your bag and winnowed to your house in Velaris.
Though you observed no immediate threat, Azriel and your daughter stood in the living room, with panicked expressions, both wearing a cooking apron. Azriel was running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. “This isn’t supposed to happen so soon, how is this possible, will she have to be a spy too, will she-", Azriel murmured quietly to himself but stopped when he heard her voice. "Daddy, what’s happening?” your daughter asked him. His worried eyes softened when he heard the shakiness of her voice.
“Hey I’m back, what’s wrong?” you tried to interrupt softly. Your daughter immediately looked your way. “Mommy mommy” she cried, running towards you. “Hey sweetie” you smiled a little while hugging her. But when she looked at you, you saw the tears in her little eyes, the beautiful hazel ones, just like her father’s. “Why are you crying, love?” You asked while stroking her dark curls. “I-I’m.. I’m scared,” she stuttered.
Your mate now stood next to you, with a deep furrow on his handsome face. “I’m like daddy,” she said softly. “What do you mean?” you asked, kneeling down next to her. Azriel knelt beside you, his leg brushing yours, attempting to calm himself. “She.. she has shadows, we were making you a pie for when you returned and… I thought it was my shadow at first. But then I realized it was hers,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know what to do, so… I freaked out a little. I think I scared her,” he said to you, guilt all over his face.
That’s when a tiny shadow appeared between you and your mate, it stroked Azriel’s cheek softly, intertwining with a dark piece of hair that was falling on his forehead. It was your daughters shadow, you then realized. “I’m so sorry daddy” she whispered, lips trembling. “No, no baby, you don’t have to be sorry. Daddy is very proud of you,” he answered with a pained voice. And you knew he wasn’t lying when you saw the proud tears that filled his eyes. “Are you mad at me?“ she asked. “You are just like me, sweet girl, how could I be mad?’, Az answered, his leg trembling a little against yours. “I like being just like you daddy,” your daughter smiled softly. “Now I have your cool shadows and mommy’s pretty face,“ she added proudly. “You certainly are pretty, honey, just like your mother”, Azriel smirked.
“But what now? W-will my friends at school be scared of me?” she stuttered. “I think your shadows are beautiful and sweet, just like your daddies shadows, I already love them. Don’t worry about your friends, they will love them too. I promise,” you smiled, feeling Azriel’s comforting scarred hands on your back. Your daughter’s tiny shadow is now playing with your hair too. “You’ll just have to learn how to control them, luckily your daddy is an expert” Azriel smiled.
An hour later, your little girl was sleeping peacefully in her bed, shadows dancing softly around her, playing with Azriel’s shadows. As you watched her, resting your head on Azriel's shoulder, he confessed, "I didn’t handle that right. It was just scary to think about her future when she has powers just like me”. You nestled your face deeper into his warm neck, closing your eyes in the comfort of it.
“Don’t worry babe, I get it. I didn’t expect her to get the shadows so young either, but you actually are too overprotective sometimes you know” you said. “As long as the boys stay away from her for a while, I’m okay”, he grumbled. “Of course you are, typical Illyrian, you know. Luckily I felt you through the bond”, you sighed with a smile. “What would I be without you,” he smiled back. “Nothing, I guess,” you joked, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “You really think my shadows are beautiful and sweet?” he smirked, accentuating the “sweet” teasingly. He stroked your hair and intertwined his fingers with it, like he always did when he needed your comfort. “Of course I do, they like me a lot, but you know that already you cocky bastard” you laughed.
“I just love hearing you say it” 
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runninriot · 3 days
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written for the @steddiesongfics may prompt
(David Bowie - Absolute Beginners, 1986)
wc: 1986 | rated: t | tags: Steddie in love, newly established relationship, fluff, background characters, Good Uncle Wayne Munson | also on ao3
As long as we’re together, the rest can go to hell
Waking up in Eddie’s arms for the first time feels unreal. Like maybe he’s not really awake after all. Maybe Steve’s still stuck in a beautiful dream and the sound of the other man’s peaceful breathing is just a fragment of his imagination. But he can feel Eddie’s chest rise and fall beneath his head, can feel the comfortable weight of Eddie’s arm on his back, the soothing warmth of his skin.
Maybe it is real.
Maybe they actually, finally got their shit together – as Robin would say.
    God, Robin would be so smug if she could see him right now, nuzzling Eddie’s skin, sinking deeper into the sleeping man’s arms.
She’d known there was something going on, told him so but never pushed. Even before that night Eddie came out to them a few months back. Where Robin told him her secret, too, and Steve didn’t even know he had one of his own to share.
Before Steve realised what that funny feeling was. What it meant to have a riot of butterfly wings create a storm in his stomach, to have his heartbeat set the rhythm to a song he’s never heard before.
Man, she will be so proud of herself when- if they tell her.
They will tell her, right?
They’ll them all – Robin, Nance, the kids...
Dustin.
    Oh God, what will Dustin say if they tell him that they’re-
Together?
Are they together?
Is this- Is this what they are?
It must be, right?
Eddie told him he loves him. Kept repeating the words over and over again between kisses. Said it so many times, Steve had no reason to believe it wasn’t true.
It must be true because Steve wants it to be true.
Eddie is-
This isn’t just a stupid crush, some made-believe infatuation with his high school sweetheart. Steve isn’t a stupidly naive teenager anymore. He knows the difference between simply searching for affection and truly wanting to be with someone.
He is in love with Eddie. That’s a fact. Unshakeable like the fact that water is wet, the sun is hot, and the moon is 238.700 miles away from earth (yes, he does listen to Dustin ramble about his stupid nerd interests sometimes, thank you very much).
He’s in love and although this is all very scary and new, he wants their friends to know about them. Wants them to be happy for them.
But what if they’re not?
What if the fact that he’s in love with another man gives Mike one more reason to hate him? What if Lucas refuses to let Steve coach him because of it? What if it doesn’t work out and Dustin has to choose between him and Eddie? What if-
   “I can hear you think.”
Steve startles when Eddie tightens his arms around him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. And when he looks up at Eddie, Steve finds two sleepy eyes blinking back at him.
   “Morning, baby,” Eddie says through a smile and-
Steve’s heart immediately does that thing again and there’s this familiar feeling in his gut, and Eddie looks so soft in the warm morning light that Steve just can’t not kiss him.
   “Morning,” Steve finally answers when they part – Eddie’s hand still holding his face, beautiful eyes looking right into his soul, and Steve feels like flying.
   “Hm, so that’s not what it’s about, huh?”
Steve’s confused, doesn’t know what Eddie is talking about and it must show on his face because Eddie chuckles before he continues.
   “For a moment I was scared you’ve gotten all nervous and fidgety because you were- I don’t know. That maybe you had doubts. About this?” He moves his free hand between the two of them, pointing at himself and back at Steve.
   “But I guess you kissing me despite my morning breath must mean you-“
Steve shuts him up with another press of lips, morning breath be damned. He won’t give Eddie any reason to even think for another second that he doesn’t want this. Because he does. He wants this, them, together. Probably more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.
He shakes his head, doesn’t know how to express all those things that are rattling his mind. How to tell Eddie what goes on in his head without stumbling over the words, without twisting his tongue, without making a fool of himself because-
They’ve only just woken up and it’s the first time they’re in bed together and instead of just enjoying the moment, instead of being in the here and now, Steve is already like, 238.700 steps ahead.
   “Talk to me, Stevie. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
Steve slowly relaxes into the pleasant feeling of Eddie’s fingers gently scraping along the back of his neck like he’s trying to coax the words out of him, trying to help slow down his racing thoughts. And somehow, it works.
   “I was just-“ Steve takes a deep, grounding breath, “I was just wondering if we should tell the others. About us. A-about us being... boyfriends?”
Steve feels heat spreading in his face, feels the blush creep from his cheeks to his ears.
He didn’t mean to make it sound like a question but they haven’t really defined what they are, yet. They’ve been way too busy making out, kissing, touching – God, how could he not have been completely distracted by the way Eddie kissed him. The way he painted his neck in love-coloured bruises. How he worshipped Steve’s whole body with his lips like he was something special, something worth taking his time with.
And oh, his time he took, that teasing bastard. Made it his mission to kiss every goddamn mole and freckle on Steve’s body. Started counting them with his lips, his tongue, tracing his fingers over every inch of his exposed skin. Kissed him where no one had ever kissed him before, his touch so careful and gentle it only made Steve crazy for more, more, more.
By the time Eddie finally put his mouth on him, Steve was already so far gone that it took not even 30 seconds for him to lose it. But then Eddie didn’t give him a chance to feel embarrassed about it, just kept kissing him, touching him, showering him in sweet little nothings that meant everything to Steve.
   “Steve? You with me?”
    Hm? Oh.
   “S-sorry. What did you say?” Steve smiles apologetically, relieved when Eddie chuckles lightly.
   “I said. Yes, boyfriends. If you want that? And yes to telling people. God, I can’t wait to see Dustin’s stupid little face when he hears that I, Eddie Munson, get to date the hottest guy in Hawkins. Hell, the hottest guy in the entire fucking world!”
Eddie balls his fist and punches the air like he’s just won a competition, and the excitement in his voice is infectious, startles a loud and very unsexy snort out of Steve.
   “Take that, Dustin! So much for teasing me for my lack of success in the dating department. Ha! Oh, but Mike will be devastated. Everyone knows he’s got the biggest crush on you.”
   “What?! Shut up, he does not!” Steve is screeching now, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.
   “You think I’m lying? Ask Lucas! He was the one that told me. Said he doesn’t quite get it but Lucas only has eyes for Max so, of course he doesn’t.”
   “Eddie, stop! I don’t believe it. Mike hates me! Sometimes I could swear he’s doing his best to pretend I don’t even exist.”
   “Tell yourself whatever makes you feel good, baby,” Eddie winks, smiles so bright it’s like he’s the sun himself. Bright like the sun and just as hot.
(How hot is the sun? Dustin will know, he’ll ask him next time he sees him.)
   “Robin will be a tough one, though.”
   “Huh? Robin? She’s literally one of us, Eds. Why should she of all people have any problem with us being together?”
Eddie must sense his concern, because he glides his thumb over Steve’s furrowed brows to smooth out the worry lines, kisses him on the forehead like that’s gonna stop his mind from reeling.
Weirdly enough, it does.
   “Well, duh! She’ll be so happy for you. It’s me I’m worried about.”
Eddie winks at him and that’s when Steve finally catches on. He huffs out a laugh, rolls his eyes in fake-annoyance, can’t not smile when Eddie offers him the saddest, most convincing puppy eyes he’s ever seen.
   “She’s going to kill me if I ever so much as make you mad or, god forbid, sad for whatever reason.”
   “Oh that’s easy to avoid. Just never make me mad or sad and you’ll be fine,” Steve mocks him, knows deep down Eddie would never anyway.
   “What about-“ Steve realises he hasn’t even thought about that before.
They’re at the trailer. Steve heard Wayne come home from his night shift a while ago, knows the man’s still awake, considering the noise coming from the outside Eddie’s bedroom.
   “Do you want to tell Wayne? It’s okay if not. We don’t- We can just pretend nothing has changed. I don’t want him to get mad. Or, or worse.”
Now it’s Eddie’s turn to look worried and Steve gets it. He couldn’t even think about telling his own parents. His father would- No, he’ll just have to keep this from them. Not like they ever really care for what goes on in his life anyway.
   “Come on.”
    What?
Eddie throws back the blanket they shared, leaving them both naked and exposed to the light of the day, the reality of the night before hitting them both with a rush of childish embarrassment, sending a deep blush into both their faces, both not used to being so vulnerably bare in front of each other.
But Eddie seems to regain his composure quickly, untangles from Steve’s arms and jumps out of the bed.
He grabs two pairs of boxers and sweatpants and shirts from his dresser, tossing half of them at Steve who’s still too stunned to speak.
   “Eddie, what-”
   “Hurry up, sweety! I smell coffee.”
Steve follows Eddie, nervously fussing with his hair in a weak attempt to make himself more presentable, less... ‘spent the night making out with your nephew’, hiding behind Eddie when Wayne catches sight of them.
   “Morning boys. Coffee?” The man grumbles, not even batting an eye when Eddie abruptly turns, grabs Steve by the face, and plants a kiss right on his mouth.
   “Yes, please. Me and my boyfriend would love a nice cup of coffee. Don’t we, Stevie?”
Eddie beams at him, a teeth-flashing grin on his face, and Steve wants to kill him. Wants to kiss him even more. Doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Just stands there, frozen in shock, dumbly nodding to answer the question he only vaguely remembers has been asked.
   “I see.” Wayne stands up from the armchair he was sitting in, walks over to them, blank expression on his face.
He exhales deeply and Steve holds his breath, not ready for whatever comes next.
   “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
Eddie shoots his uncle a look, rolls his eyes, scoffs – and Steve feels the weight of a thousand worlds fall off his shoulders.
(How much does one earth weigh? He’ll ask Dustin. Maybe he-)
   “You better treat him right, son. You do not wanna get in trouble with me for hurting him, you hear me?”
Steve’s mouth falls open in disbelief when he realises those words are directed at Eddie and not at him.
That’s what finally cuts the tension. Steve starts laughing, loud and whole-heartedly, feels lighter, better than ever before.
He kisses Eddie again, because he can. They’re in love, and that’s okay.
And as long as they’re together, the rest can go to hell.
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