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#I will never learn how to draw him but this doesn't stop me!
hivemire · 2 months
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evil stick insect
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bluastro-yellow · 8 months
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get it Kim has a lot to unpack do you get it
it's imperfect I'll never polish it just take it as it is
#I don't know how the hell to draw kim#PLEASE gib me feedback#pretend the dialogue is better this is all I can do lol. but you get the gist of it#aaa give me constructive criticism. the other post about kim secretly being a loser made me think about what his apartment would look like#and this popped in my head I had to draw it#is this in character?#there's no eyebrow battle because in my head this happens some time in the future where kim opens up a little more easily#at this point he trust him with his secrets more (but not completely. harry's not touching the blue box today)#but it's a mixture of ''maybe if I tell x he will stop asking for more'' and real trust#but like do you see that happen#it's a secret because he doesn't want other people to learn that insisting can work#like I said in the tags of the other post I think he never lets anyone in to the point of avoiding calling the plumber even if the sink#has been broken for months#addition: fuck I should have putted more machines in there. I couldn't think of anything else other than radio controlled airplane#and a sewing machine. he must have more stuff like the camera.#he'd have some dangerous thing to warm the room#and nerd stuff. I'm not sure if he'd display it or keep it boxed somewhere#disco elysium#that's a convertible couch-bed if you can't tell. half covered with the Pile#pointless microblogging#it's so hard to draw them right they look different in every official thing#believe me I have tried#idk how to put more of the skills here :/#I have achieved peak kimharry brainrot I can't go back
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starleska · 1 year
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If you're still taking writing requests, could you do possessive Wally headcanons?
*cracks knuckles* oh anon, i most certainly can 😈 yandere!Wally fans (me too 😳), this one's for you! (this is less headcanons and more a oneshot... kinda wanna write the whole thing 🙈)
content warnings for possessive behaviour, manipulation, threats, arson, entrapment and kidnapping!
Possessive/Yandere!Wally Darling x Reader headcanons
👁 it all started so well. Wally was a Darling both in name and behaviour, and you fell hard and fast. such an attentive sweetheart, from the moment you moved into the neighbourhood it was as if he were always at your side. anywhere else, you may have been unnerved, but Wally's simple warmth and easy smile dispelled all of your doubts. while you tried to spread your time equally between your kind new neighbours, you somehow always found yourself in Wally's presence, talking to him for hours.
👁 in time, you found yourself becoming bolder. you start returning Wally's curious glances, and soon allow your eyes to linger a touch longer than they should. curiously (and with a little bit of a thrill), you notice that Wally seems incapable of breaking eye contact - no matter how long you stare, he'll always stare right back, unperturbed.
👁 one day, you find yourself closer to Wally than usual. you're half-pressed against one another on your sofa, Wally's cheek nestled in the crook of your shoulder. he's drawing something in his sketchbook: an indistinct, wobbly shape that you can't make heads or tails of. while Wally's right hand scribbles furiously with his pencil, the fingers of his unoccupied left hand spill at your side, reflexively clenching every now and again with the automatic motions of his drawing.
👁 the closeness imbues you with a newfound confidence. you take a breath, steady yourself...and reach across, brushing your fingers lightly across Wally's own. Wally's eyes snap towards you. for a moment, his pupils blow so wide you think they might just swallow you.
👁 the next day, your house catches fire. such an incident is unheard of in this neighbourhood, and all your neighbours are horrified for you. however, Wally is strangely calm. "I'm sorry you lost so much," he says, still smiling. "Would you like to live with me?"
👁 you're shaken - but accept Wally's offer. the shock of the fire takes a few days to wear off, but nothing could be more unsettling than living in close quarters with Wally Darling. existing within the living, breathing (creaking? squeaking) walls of his Home has an atypical effect on the puppet. Wally's voice is lower, and he moves with more purpose, as if he and Home are one and the same: symbiotic entities which exist in tandem with one another.
👁 to add to your creeping sense of dread, Wally flips the script on your personal space. now he is the one letting his fingers slip easily around your waist, and fixing you with uncomfortable, impossible-to-ignore stares. you try to laugh off his behaviour, questioning him openly if he enjoys having you as a guest so much. for once, Wally doesn't smile when he replies, "I love you living with me."
👁 it isn't until a week has passed that you learn all the doors are locked, and Wally never gave you a key. you try wrestling with the door handle, but it doesn't budge. then you try the windows, but they're sealed shut. 'I'm not trapped!' you think to yourself. 'Wally is just being a good neighbour - he wants to keep me safe.' but that still doesn't stop you from panicking, scouring the house for the heaviest thing you can find and trying to smash the window. the glass does not break. Home suddenly groans with the sound of a thousand old floorboards and overloaded pipes - a dreadful, ear-rending noise - causing the glass in the window to triple in height and thickness right before your eyes.
👁 terrified, you scramble backwards to run out of the kitchen - only to run smack into Wally. you collapse to the floor and gaze up at Wally, standing in the doorway with his hands tucked behind his back, that cat's smile of his holds some private amusement.
👁 "did you try to leave Home?" Wally asks. "Silly, silly." he takes a step towards you, and then another - slow and loping steps, his cute puppet form now moving in a way equal parts unnatural and sinister. he crouches next to you, those eyes now whirlpools of void which obscure all but the slight white rim of his scleras. "Try again," Wally whispers. "I'd like that very much."
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luna0713hunter · 8 months
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I'd die for you
Zoro Roronoa x reader
Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.
Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."
You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.
"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"
"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"
You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"
"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."
The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."
You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.
"I'm going!!"
"Good luck with him!"
You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.
It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.
As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.
"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."
"Zoro,its me."
When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.
"...come in."
You take another breath as you finally open the door.
Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.
"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."
Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying
"its not poisoned,is it?"
"i was cooking,what do you think?"
Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily
"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"
"i didnt even say anything."
"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."
You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.
"...give it here."
You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.
"And why would i?"
"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."
And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.
"was that pause really necessary?"
"just give me the damn bowl."
You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.
You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.
"so?how is it?"
Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.
"it's the best soup I've ever had."
There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.
Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.
At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.
"hey,hey. why are you crying?"
You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.
"i almost lost you Zoro..."
"but I'm-"
"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"
When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.
"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."
He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.
Alive and safe
"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."
At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"
"really."
And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.
"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
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They're My Future, You're The Past
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris
Rating: PG
Warnings: Light Angst, fluff
Words: 3.6K
A/N: I can't believe this series is over, I think I've cried 4 times over writing this and I just, wow, the love it got and how patient you all have been waiting for this, I could never thank you enough for the support. Thank you! Peace Out
Our Boy Series Masterlist / Prev: Just Come Home To Us
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The sun's glow casts on your face, warming your cold body. It was customary for you to sit here and watch the people move along the cobblestone. "Would you like some more?" Craning your head, you nod to the waiter, who smiles as they fill your mug with fresh tea. You turn back, watching the people as they pass the cafe. The same restaurant that was the one you met Charles at. Right up the road was where he asked you out, and now you're waiting for your past to catch you.
"You're actually here," The voice behind you sounds out of breath like they ran here, but you knew it was due to the cold. His blonde hair looks like silver strands, and his blue eyes look like bright orbs of stars. "Nico, sit." You open your hand to the chair across from you. Nico shifts his weight from side to side, wondering if he should. "Nico, we're not going to argue, we're not….we'll. I'm not who I used to be. Now, please, sit." You urge, wanting to put this to rest.
You initially didn't want to meet with Nico; you were perfectly fine with just leaving things as they were, not talking. But Elijah wants you to speak to him, having given you his letter, and all it left you with was annoyance and pain. It's been 16 years. Why did your son want you to deal with this now?
"Elijah called me," Nico clears his throat, looking everywhere but you. "He told me Lando was next to him the entire time." It was one of Lando's new rules: no more secrets and Lando wanted to be there when Elijah talked to Nico. He didn't want his boy exposed to whatever hatred Nico had to spill. "I wouldn't trash talk you to our son." You scuff and look into the sun, letting it warm your skin. "My son, he's not yours." You held no anger or venom in those words, more so truth.
"He is, my blood, my," "Nico Rosberg, stop right now." Your voice holds a stern edge that has Nico sitting up straight. "Let me make this clear," You lean onto the table, staring deep into those blue eyes your son mirrors. "Charles and Lando are his father's. You either accept that or will have no part in Elijah's life. And I don't care if Elijah wants to be a part of it; you will respect the two men who stood up and supported me from the moment they knew me." You hiss, keeping your voice low so you don't draw any attention to you two.
"Y/n," Nico huffs, tugging at the once vibrant blonde, now dull with specks of grey lining. "I don't have a problem with them, but that respect needs to go both ways," Nico pleads, but you roll your shoulders back, refusing to back down. "No, Nico, it doesn't. They will be "respectful" in front of Elijah, and I will only stand beside them if you give my husbands any reason to cut ties." Nico and you fall silent, staring each other down.
Nico cuts his eyes away, and you get a little thrill at how you could make Nico Rosberg back down. "Nico, we'll never be what we used to be. You taught me many lessons and some I didn't deserve to learn, yet they landed me two men I should've valued and trusted more. I damaged our relationship because of the lies I carried from us, and I won't do that anymore. I won't carry this hate we both hold into my life." You whisper the last part, fiddling with your tea.
"You're drinking tea?" Nico notices, and you look up, his eyes locking with yours. "Yes," Looking away first and watching a new yacht dock. "That's….good." He smiles at you softly, and you feel your lips curl slightly. "Um, Elijah texted me; he wants to come over and meet Vivian and the girls; is that okay?" Nico seemed happy about his son meeting his daughters and wife. You remember Vivian. She was a wonderful person and always so sweet to you.
"It would be wonderful; Vivian is a wonderful person. I just want Elijah to have another place he can go to. I want him to be welcomed, Nico; he deserves it. Elijah is a wonderful boy," Nico nods and sighs deeply. "I know we'll have to work on our communication, but we're going to the Alpes, and if Elijah wants to come, he can even bring Cecile." Nico smiles brightly at the thought of the two Leclerc-Norris children joining.
"I'm not going to replace Charles or Lando, Y/n. But I want to be a part of my so- of Elijah's life. However much you let me be there, I won't cross any boundaries or parent him, but I will be…..firm." You nod and sip the tea, letting it warm your bones. "We'll figure something out; I must get home now." Nico nods, stands up, and moves to hug you but stops. You smile; you have no ill will toward him; stepping forward, you let him hug you, and all those memories of being in his arms come rushing back.
"Do you think you could do a favor?" You give him a confused look, and Nico looks almost ashamed to ask you this. "Do you think you could talk to Lewis?" You raise an eyebrow, and Nico groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "After what happened to us, we haven't talked in a while." You admit, and your eyes grow wide. "Are you serious? He stopped talking to you because of you and I?" You couldn't believe this.
"Yeah, I didn't really appreciate me hurting you." You have to cover your mouth to stop laughing and sigh. "I'll see what I can do; he's coming over for lunch anyways." Nico nods, and you both stand there, unsure what else you could say. "I'll see you later, Nico." Nico nods and lays down some money, more than enough for the both of you.
"I love Vivian, Y/n, but you were the one thing I regret getting away. But," Nico takes a deep breath and smiles. "I think it was for the better, don't you?" You smile, a genuine smile that made Nico always stop and stare. "It was all worth it,"
"Cece baby, you can't give up just because it's hard," Lando begs, really hating that they're in the stage where if something was hard, Cecile would just stop working on it. "But, I don't understand it, Dad. Can't I just stop?" She whines, and Lando sighs, rubbing his hair. Sometimes, Lando really hates being a dad because he remembers what it was like growing up and how hard things were, but he just takes a deep breath and tries again.
"Cece, sit down. You need to know how to do this for your school. Now, you and I do it, or I get Papa or Uncle Max to help you. Now, which one do you want?" Lando asks, trying hard to keep his stern voice. "You," She whispers and throws herself down into her chair beside him. Chuckling, Lando fixes her hair and kisses her temple. "Math wasn't easy for me either, baby," Cecile whines and shakes her head.
"It's not that, Daddy. All the words get jumbled when I read them." She whispers, casting her head down, and Lando freezes. He tries to wipe off the panic look on his face and clears the knot in his throat. "What do you mean the words get jumbled?" He asks, not wanting to jump straight to his first thought. "I mean, the letters move across the paper, and it doesn't make sense. I try my best, but it makes it harder, and then it gets harder when I get frustrated. What's happening?" Cece turns, eyes wide and filled with tears.
"Nothing is wrong; we just need to schedule an appointment with your doctor. There's nothing wrong with you, Cece; your brain is wired differently, like mine. It's called dyslexia, I have it, and after we talk to your doctor, then I can teach you tricks on how to deal with it?" "Does that mean we can stop with the homework?" Lando chuckles and, kisses her forehead and nods. "Yep, go." Lando smiles as he watches Cecile run off into the house.
Lando sighed and buried his face in his hands and tugged his hair gently, "Shit," Lando didn't want Cecile to be trouble in school; he remembered and still how hard it is for him sometimes to read, but taking a deep breath he leans back in the chair and smiles at the doorway. "How long have you been there?" Charles chuckles and steps into the room, holding a tray of snacks, clearly about to go to waste. "Not long; you think she has dyslexia?" Charles places the tray down, and Lando scoops up an apple slice and munches it.
"Yeah, she said the same words I said when I was her age and finally admitted to having trouble." Charles hums, reaching up and tugging on his husband's signature curls, making him groan from the slight pressure. "You're stressing, stop stressing." He whispers, and Lando chuckles, swallowing down another apple slice. "She's our little girl, Charles. I don't want her to struggle." Charles sighs and sits in Lando's lap, who smiles and pulls him closer.
"Lando, she's not going to struggle, she's got you, me, Elijah, and Y/n. She'll be good." Charles whispers and wraps his arms around his husband's neck, who hums and rests his head on Charles's chest. "How's Elijah? Is he doing okay?" Lando asks, knowing your relationship with Elijah has been challenging since you returned. He's been a little stand-offish with you, something Charles has been trying to fix.
"Fine, he's with Arthur and Mama and wants to spend the night, but I told him he's coming home. I think he's worried that Y/n will be gone again when he comes home." Charles's fingers tangle in those curls he loves so much, and he takes in the hint of lemon in his shampoo. It was a weird scent, but Lando loves his lemon and mint shampoo. "Good, he needs to be home. We can have a movie night or something," Lando's words trail off as you step into the house laughing, and Lando tenses, hearing the familiar laughter of his fellow Brit.
"Be nice," Charles whispers; Lando grumbles and pats Charles's thigh so they can stand as you and Lewis come into view. "Hey guys," Lewis smiles, and Charles happily hugs his old teammate, and Lando stands there glaring. "Lando," Lewis smiles, and Lando bites his tongue but fails. "You knew everything, didn't you?" "Lando!" You and Charles blurt, having wanted lunch first before Lando jumped Lewis.
"What? He's in our house and probably knew where you were and didn't tell us! Why should I be nice?" Lando asks, and Lewis chuckles and lays his coat over the back of the chair. "Lando, let's sit this straight. She is my family, and you and I are friends, but she is my baby sister, and I'll toss everything away between us for her. Understand?" Lewis's eyes narrow at Lando, who stands there, trying to make himself look bigger.
"I don't like that," Lando grumbles, and you roll your eyes and fix your sweatshirt as Charles comes over and kisses you gently. You smile and pray he doesn't notice, but he doesn't and kisses you again. "They're going to kill each other," You whisper, but Charles rolls his eyes at Lando's childish antics. "Lando, I don't give a fuck if you don't like it. She's my sister, fucking deal with it." Lewis rolls his eyes but stops seeing his niece's dirty blonde hair.
"Uncle Lewis!" Cecile screams and comes barreling at him. "Hey, gorgeous." He smiles and picks her up a little bit as she giggles and hugs her uncle tighter. "Guess what?" Cecile asks as Lewis sits her down. You notice him wince, his back still hurting him. "What?" "I'm just like Daddy!" Lando turns and looks at his daughter, and you notice his eyes grow a little shiny.
"Yeah? How are you like Daddy?" Cecile gets the biggest smile on her face as she bounces around. "Daddy and I both see letters moving! How cool is that?" She laughs as Lando turns and clears his throat. "I think that's very cool, gorgeous; you and Lando are very good to each other." Lewis smiles, and Cecile gives a big, toothy grin. "Yeah, I think so too! I'm even going to work for McLaren one day." She smiles up at Lando, who walks over and pulls her close, hugging her.
"Hey! I'm home, Pa!" You smile and turn, greeting Elijah, who stops and stares at you like a deer in headlights. "Hey Ma," Your smile drops slightly, hearing the hesitancy in your boy's voice. "Hi, honey, um, your Uncle Lewis is here." Elijah seems to relax at that. "Sweet, I want his advice about my driving in F4." Elijah brushes past you and eyes Lando and Cecile weirdly. "Why is Dad crying?" "I'm not crying! Lewis stupid ass cologne is burning my eyes!" Lewis scuffs and hugs Elijah as they walk deeper into the house, discussing F4.
"Daddy, can you let go of me now? I'm hungry." Lando sniffles pulls back, and rubs the top of her head. "Yeah, go. I'll join you in the kitchen soon." Cecile nods and stops at you and Charles, kissing your cheeks. The silence around you three grows, and you smile at Charles and Lando.
"So I might've told Nico he can come over later tonight," You blurt, and Charles and Lando whip their heads your way. "Why?" Charles sputters, and you laugh gently and fix the back of his hair. "Elijah wants a relationship with him and his half-sisters; who am I to stop that?" "His mother," Lando groans, sitting down as he knows arguing with you is useless. "Lando, that is Elijah's fat," You stop yourself, knowing calling Nico Elijah's father before Charles and Lando wasn't the wisest thing in the world.
"I think it's a good idea," Lando whips around, staring at his husband in shock, but Charles has a delicate smile. "Of course, if he still comes home to us, yes?" Hearing such vulnerability and raw emotion, your throat tightens, and you waver momentarily. Charles was still scared that you and Elijah would be gone without notice one day. He'd come back from a race, and you're just gone. It's been his nightmare since he's gotten you back. "Yes, Charles, he won't stay the night there." Charles nods, the tension soaking out of his shoulders while Lando turns and scuffs.
"Dad, I want this." Lando turns and sees Elijah standing there, bag in hand, ready to go to Nico's place. Elijah, ducky, I know you do, but it scares me." Lando whispers; Elijah places his bag down and sighs. "I know, Dad, but I'm not a kid anymore. I know my real parents, but I deserve to see the man who could've been my Dad. I get that right, but you, you're the one who raised me, Dad. That's never going to change." Lando rubbed his hair hard, a sign that he was getting anxious. "I don't want you to be hurt." Lando mummers, and Elijah moves closer.
"Come here, old man." Lando chuckles, and Elijah hugs his Dad, kissing his cheek too. You smile, noticing they hug the same way by burrowing their noses in the person's neck. "I love you, not him. You and Pa raised me, my fathers, and that will never change." Lando nods and tightens his arms before dropping them as Elijah steps back. "I got the girls gifts. Nico says they like dress-up, and pink and mint blue are their favorite colors." You giggle, seeing the way Elijah lights up talking about his half-sisters. Elijah's phone buzzes, and he looks at his watch, smiling. "Nico's here. See ya'll later." You wave and walk outside, seeing two little blonde heads run up and hug your boy. Your husband walks out and glares at Nico.
Nico, taking it like a champ, waves and walks toward you. You step forward, and Nico goes, still seeing Lewis step out of the house with Cece. "Ignore them so he can stay as late as he likes, but he's not spending the night. Also, please be careful with nuts; he's allergic." Nico nods, listening intently as Elijah groans, the girls crawling over him. "Sometimes he gets anxious and hides it well, but he pulls his hair or runs his hands through it pretty hard. So if he does get anxious, just ask him to run an errand, and he'll be okay." Nico smiles and stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder.
"I've got it. You have to let me learn. But I'd rather ask him what he needs than hear it from you." You smile and move, hugging Nico back. You take a breath and start to giggle. "God, you still wear that god-awful perfume." Nico begins to laugh, and you shake your head. "Jesus, man, get a better perfume." Nico rolls his eyes and turns to his girls. "Girls, leave your brother alone," Elijah laughs and lifts them up, making them squeal. "Come on, little Rosbergs, in the car." Elijah opens the door, helps them in, and even buckles them in.
Your breath catches as you notice how similar Nico's girls and your boy look alike. "Bye-bye, Eli!" Cece yells from Lewis's side, and Elijah turns, smiling brightly. "Bye-bye, Cece." Elijah laughs and climbs into the car, and Nico smiles and nods at the men behind you and jogs to the vehicle. You hear giggles as the car drives off slowly.
You smile while watching Lando and Charles follow a recipe, something you've been craving from home. You miss how your relationship used to be, but you know you'll never get that back and must embrace the new dynamics in your life. Lando giggles when Charles kisses his nose, and you lean back, barely sipping from your wine glass—something Lewis clocks immediately.
"Y/n, can you show me the new flowers you planted?" You turn and nod, and Charles and Lando smile at you. You leave the wine behind and walk outside into your small private garden. You got lucky in Monaco to build an actual home and have a little bit of land. No one really wanted to live in the mountains anyway. "How far along?" He asks softly, turning you to smile brightly at your best friend.
"For a couple of months, I haven't told them yet," you whisper, touching your stomach and feeling happiness wash over you. "Lando or Charles's?" You laugh and hook your arm with Lewis's, staring at the fading tattoos, remembering all the nights you'd come to his room crying and tracing them as he nursed your broken heart all those years ago. "Charles's," There was no doubt in your voice.
When you returned from Finland, Charles and you were all over each other as Lando had to go to Mercedes headquarters and take the kids with him to visit his parents. You and Charles didn't leave the bed and may have gotten through a pack of condoms and said screw it, laughing as you both didn't care if you had another baby. Your therapist might judge, though.
"Great, just what the world needs, another one of you," Lewis teases, and you giggle, walking up to the gorgeous new butterfly bushes you had planted. "What do they mean?" Lewis asks, and you rock back and forth, sighing. "New beginnings. I think we all deserve a clean slate, don't you?" Lewis smiles, touching the flowers gently, admiring the vibrant purple. "Yeah, I think it's time to forgive the past," Lewis turns, running a hand over his braids before taking back your hand. "So, who'll be the godfather of this one?" You slap his chest, which makes him snicker.
"Nico," "I'll fucking sue!" Lewis barks, and you throw your head back laughing, seeing the smoke coming from his ears. "What happened to forgiving the past?" "Not for him! He's dead to me," Lewis lets go of you and storms inside, and you hear the giggles of Cece and Lewis grumbling as they come back out and head towards the karts. "Be careful!" "We will, Mama!" Cece waves, and you shake your head, like her father, with wild curls.
Stepping inside, you kick off your sandals and enjoy the cool tiles as you enter your open kitchen. The same kitchen you told them about, Cece. The memory makes you get choked up, but you quickly push it down, not wanting to worry the boys. Stepping deeper, you see Lando pull away, smiling as Charles chases him for another kiss and blushes to see you. You move between them and hug Charles, melting into Lando when he presses you into Charles more.
It's silent, and you enjoy it, hearing Charles's calming heartbeat and Lando's hums, which make you shiver. He chuckles, kissing your bare shoulder. "Did you not like the wine?" Lando asks, knowing you usually had a glass as they cooked. "Nah, it doesn't sit well with the baby," Charles chuckles. "Yeah, babies normally don't, wait." He pushes you back, his face filled with joy.
"Wait, what, baby?" You burst out laughing at those exact words said from the beginning. You knew this was the last chapter of your old life, your new one beginning. And you're going to love this new chapter.
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taglist: @thomaslefteyebrow @a-stray-soul @formulas-bitch @mickslover @myescapefromthislife @glow-ish @kittyfluffypaws28 @ryntro @copper-boom @allabouthappiness @jaydaaasworld @christianpulisic10 @lyraleclerc @daddyslittlevillain @dreamerrosie @driveswiftly13 @harrysdimple05 @sueesstuff @why4anne @nataliambc @cwiphswmwasohmm @buckybarnessweetheart @makingmyway-downtown @elijahslover @kapsylia @zeusmyster @adalynneva @babyvinnie @80sloverry @janeholt3 @silscintilla @ersamn @fanboyluvr @erinnorris @shamelesspotatos @roseseraj @champomiel
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polakina · 2 months
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how they fuck you
red dead redemption headcanons #2
hc masterlist // masterlist
on my third playthrough of rdr2 and i cannot bring myself to play low honour. why do i put myself through this?
also this is ridiculously long, got a little carried away but i shall not apologise
rating: explicit
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is always gentle with you at first
delicate touches, lingering kisses, gazing eyes at your every movement or ministration
"what do you want, mi amor? tell me"
loves to hear you beg for him, want him
it just turns him on even more
dirty talk through the ROOF
this man knows how to talk you through it
"fuck you feel amazing, hermosa. yeah, just like that, huh? anything for you"
will eat you out for days if he could
never really tried it before, even when he lived in Mexico, he never really gave it a go
but with you, he wanted to try everything. whatever you wanted, he was up for it
so when you first asked him, he was nervous as hell, but willing to try
he found out he loved it and does it every single fucking time he had you all to himself
buries himself between your thighs like a man starved, his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs to keep you still
his tongue worked fucking wonders on your pussy, knowing exactly where to focus his attention, loving how you always moaned a little softer when his tongue dipped inside your cunt
fucks you slow, savouring the moment when he can
loves to have you riding him. seeing you on top spurs something inside him
his hands grip your waist fiercely, guiding your hips to grind against him, pulling sweet, elicit moans from your throat
loves to cut your clothes from your body with his knife
it's so much more satisfying than just taking them off with his hands
kinda likes quickies. prefers taking his time but there's something about pulling you away for a few minutes to have his way with you behind the protection of a tree or something that he loves
usually happens out on missions, so there's risk of the gang seeing you guys, but what's life without a little risk?
you could be on watch beside your tent while everyone sleeps, and javier will come over to keep you company
but it doesn't take long for his hand to slip into your pants as he whispers all sorts of things in your ear as he sits behind you while you try and continue your watch duty
was terrible at aftercare before, never really understood the in's and out's of it
but learned eventually with you, when you explained it to him
now he's at your beck and call whenever you need it
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wear this man's hat around camp and that's all he needs to pull you to a secluded tent
but wear it while you fuck him? arthur would die happy in that exact moment
likes to call you 'cowgirl' when you ride him. you always roll your eyes at how stupid it sounds, but it doesn't stop him
the two of you don't have all the time in the world. being one of dutch's most trusted members, he's needed away from camp a lot more than anyone else
so you've both learned the art of being fast
and it doesn't take long for him to make you cum
never asks for them, but loves blowjobs
he likes to draw in his tent when he's got time to himself, so when he sees you come in and sink to your knees in between his lap, he can't think of a better sight
the absolute king of praises (have you heard how he talks to his horse?? imagine him talking to a woman oml)
not a fan of degrading, he never saw the appeal, but uses other methods to 'punish' you
"what do you want, darlin?" he'd say as he's fucking you from behind, your face pressed into the pillow to stifle your moans, your ass in the air held up by his hands on your hips. "oh babygirl, you wanna cum, huh? then you can beg me for it, can't you?"
will edge you for days
especially when he knows he's going to be away for a few days afterwards
definitely grabs the headboard
mainly for his own stability to be able to thrust into you harder as you moan his name into the room
has his hands on you at all times
holding your hands above your head by your wrists, holding your face against the mattress with his hand on the back of your neck, curling his fingers in your hair and gently yanking your head back when he pounds into you
when you do get a night away from camp, he wants to make it last the whole night
takes his time with you to the point where he's practically teasing you for hours
takes his time undressing you, kissing every part of your body, touching every part of you until his fingerprints were practically imprinted into your skin
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give this man some guidance or it's like walking through a maze blindfolded
learned a lot with you
figured out really quick what you liked and what you didn't like, what places he could touch you that would send your head spinning
this eventually led him to learn how to be very sneaky in public
he could touch you in such simple places, in such an innocent way that no one else would think anything of it
but you'd know, and you wouldn't stop it
you like the way he touched your neck? he was all over that shit, cupping your cheek, his fingers tickling your neck
you liked his hands in your hair? his fingers tangled at the base of your neck, pulling your hair slightly to tease you
his hand would rest on your thighs, fingers slowly creeping up your thigh while you were all sat around the campfire
you'd always give him a little glare, which he would ignore, a goofy smirk on his face
and the way he fucked you was no different
he had mastered the art of teasing your body and your limits, and put that knowledge in every time he had you alone
"come on, marston. stop teasin' me like this"
he'd always smirk, working his way down your body in a painfully slowly manner
"i'm takin' my time with you, sweetheart. you just lay back and relax. lemme take care of you"
loved to make you feel good before he even thought about himself
but when he was too pent up, he came a lot quicker than he wanted
but he made up for it when tending to you afterwards until you were practically pushing him away, too sensitive for his expert fingers
not the best at going down on you, but makes up with experience
but what he's really good with is his hands
his fingers
they know exactly what they're doing when he pushes them inside your soaked pussy
curling at that devastating spot inside you that makes you crumble to your knees
loves to be on top of you, seeing your face contort when he pushes inside you slowly, deeply
he's basic, a lover of missionary, but seeing your face and watching your body writhe under his grip is really what turns him on
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
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i just had a really cute idea- What about reader after the birth of her baby with Alastor feeling a bit insecure about strech marks ? how does Alastor make her feel loved?
FUCK I LOVE THIS
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Body issues, Suggestive?
Description: ☝️⬆️
At first, Alastor doesn't even notice the insecurities you're having over your body, too busy learning how to be a proper father
No amount of parenting books could prepare him for the overwhelming love he feels for his children
It takes so much effort for him to even put his children down and leave a room- you don't understand
Bedtime is hard for papa too
But little things about you start to tip him off that something has been wrong with you lately
At first, he blames it on lack of sleep, which is something you both are becoming familiar with
Or maybe you're not eating right, too busy looking out for your babies and the hotel
He just knows that you won't hardly let him touch you anymore, something he didn't realize he craved until he was suddenly deprived of it
You're sitting and feeding the babies? He wants to kiss and nuzzle at your neck because the sight is so cute
"Motherhood looks very good on you, darling~"
At first you're receptive to it, tilting your head and sighing happily until his fingers ghost over your stomach
"Actually, can you take over for me? I have to go-do something."
And he's left alone with his just as confused looking children
Then suddenly, there's baby food being thrown at his face and his babies are howling with joy
Lovely
Maybe you're stressed, being a new mother is difficult
So he resolves to take the babies off your hands for the day, something that you're grateful for
And when he manages to put his spawns down for a nap, he even draws you a bath, thinking you two could share it
It's a romantic one, bubbles and candles all around maybe even a flower or two
"Darling, there's a hot bath waiting for you and I if you're interested..?"
You're visibly stiff again, looking uncomfortable and shy like back when you first got together with him
"Could I just have the bath to myself..?"
It wasn't what he was planning, but he could never tell you no
But it is concerning to him when you lock the door behind you
You don't even change in front of him anymore, another little bit of intimacy and trust that he suddenly misses
Then he starts to notice that the mirror in your bedroom has been covered, and new creams have appeared in the bathroom and-
Oh
Carrying babies does tend to change one's body
He's seen what happened with your own but he never thought you would become insecure about it
So Alastor, being the good husband he is, resolves to remedy the situation between you two
He crawls into bed with you one night, waiting until you're nearly asleep to wrap his arms around you
You're jolted awake in an instant, feeling his chest against your back and his hands on your stomach
Touching and stroking your stretch marks
You go to pull away but his grip is firm, keeping you in place, voice light but genuine
"You're never not going to be my beautiful wife..."
You're so thankful for the darkness of the room, you don't want him to see the tears in your eyes or the marks on your stomach
Even though a small part of you knows he can see it anyways, it's less embarrassing for you
Damn these hormones of yours, your body still hasn't fully recovered from your pregnancy
And then he's rolling on top of you, kissing down your neck to your chest, then down to your stomach
His hands push up your pajamas to expose your skin to him, and you can tell that he doesn't need the light to see what's there
He stops you from covering the marks, kissing them instead and gazing at you with eyes full of warmth
"You were so proud of these before..."
You have to look away from him, overcome with emotions so strong that your voice comes out thick with it
"I'm not pregnant anymore."
"As if that makes you any less beautiful, these are just marks of our history together. I love them."
And he's kissing them again, moving back up to kiss you as gentle claws rub over each stretch mark and scar
You eventually can't help but melt into his touch, having missed him more than you realized
It's a good night between you two and you wake up feeling better than you have in awhile
It's still a slow going process accepting your new body, but Alastor is patient, eager to woo his wife all over again
It's almost like you two are back to the start of the relationship
You know that part of him only loves the marks so much because it's proof of what he did for you, how far he would go to make you happy
Also, because he loves you
And soon you start to love them too, associating them with your love for your family
Eventually you two are back to bathing together, changing together, being sickeningly affectionate behind closed doors
Not always behind closed doors
And when they do start to fade you almost miss them, rubbing over the marks in longing
Looking over at your husband playing with the children, a dangerous thought enters your mind
Maybe Alastor wouldn't mind another baby or two?
Maybe more
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I love these asks so much ♥️
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ghouljams · 3 months
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does viking!soap have an arm ring?
just imagining healer!reader somehow in a situation where soap's hand is pressed flat on the surface she's leaning on. totally not eyeing the veins trailing down his arm, they focus instead on the intricate design. maybe it's a remaining family heirloom or a gift after his first voyage... you know definitely not something he's hoped and imagined about passing on to any future children or anything like that
Viking!Soap has integrated into viking culture fairly well since [redacted] of course he has an arm ring. I think he probably got it after his first voyage with the 141, a gift from his new family meant to tie him to something again. I imagine there are very few things Soap was able to keep from his life in Scotland.
You're starting to spend more time than you mean to looking at Mactavish's arms. The thick flexing biceps and veins that trace over his forearms, usually hidden by long sleeves and his cloak, now on full display in the heat of summer. He ties his hair back as well, but that you can handle, it's the new skin you're having trouble with. The skin and the attitude. He seems emboldened by the warm weather, boxing you against doorways, leaning close, murmuring in that delicious low rumble that makes your skin prickle with heat. You've told him to stop, but as usual your wants go unnoticed.
That's really when you notice it: the thick metal band that circles his bicep. You'd caught flashes of it during the winter when it sat tighter, though still loose, around his wrist, hidden under his sleeves. Now it's hard to miss.
Mactavish leans against your table, chattering away, his arms crossed over his chest while you ignore him. It never seems to make him leave. His arm ring draws your eye and you let your eyes trace the silver twists, trying to decipher the heads at the ends while he talks. After a moment Mactavishes fingers find the band and rub over it.
"Huginn and Muninn," he says. You look up at him in confusion and he laughs. He slips the ring down his arm and holds it out to you to look over. "Odin's ravens. The travel the world, learn things, the um-" he pauses, you don't know Mactavish to pause often, "Price gave it to me, after my first expedition. Supposed to keep me comin' home."
You trace your fingers over the metal beaks of the ravens, turning the band over in your hands before handing it back. "It's pretty," you don't know what else to say. Mactavish holds it carefully, looks at it like it's something important. You suppose it must be. To you it's just a nice piece of metal, but you're not a viking.
"Yeah," he says, slipping it back up his arm, "It'll go to my boy one day."
"Oh," you don't know why it makes your stomach drop to hear him talk about his child, "I thought Gaz was thr only one with a child."
Mactavish makes an inquisitive noise, his fingers tight around the band. "He is, but I'd like children some day," you glance up, meet his eye, he tilts his head, "don't you?"
You clench your fists and turn you attention back to your work, tamp down the fluttering in your heart. "No," you tell him firmly, try to push purpose to the edge in your voice, "not here, not with any of you."
Mactavish hums. He does that when you do this, when you show your teeth. You never know what it means, never have the courage to look at him, to try and read what he's feeling. If you did you might see the hurt in his eyes. "I know, Vænn," he tells you quietly, "it's all my fault."
You clench your fists tight, dig your nails into your palms and clench your teeth. It doesn't work. You hatred and grief won't work if he sounds like that, if he pushes off your table and leaves before you can find the courage to snap at him. You hate him. You hate how unsettled your stomach gets at his words, hate the nausea, and the spiderweb feeling in your chest. It is his fault.
So why can't you stand to hear him say it?
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luveline · 5 months
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Hi, I’ve never sent a request before so forgive me if this sounds weird I’m still learning how to use Tumblr lol but what if Eddie and reader go to Roan’s school for parent-teacher conference and her teacher shows them something Roan wrote or made expressing how much she loves her new mom and her new little family🩷 and reader cries from how happy and loved Roan and Eddie make her feel🥹
ty for ur request, it doesn't sound weird at all! eddie and roan —you and eddie attend roan's PT conference, stepmother!reader, 1.2k
You hide from the biting winter wind in Eddie's side. “Is it supposed to be this cold?” you ask. 
“You sound surprised. It's December,” he says, though he puts his arm over your shoulders to cover as much of you as he can. “I told you to wear a coat.” 
“The coat ruins my outfit,” you say. 
“You being cold ruins the outfit.” He nods towards the step up into the school building. “You could say the outfit ruins what's underneath–” 
“What's wrong with you?”  
“An appreciation for my wife?” 
“Stop saying that, you're confusing people. Steve asked me last night if we got married in private–” 
“You're always talking to Steve,” Eddie complains, “he doesn't even call me anymore, he just wants to talk to you.” 
He'd called to ask if he was still babysitting, actually, but Eddie wouldn't know that because he and Roan had been playing monsters at the time, speaking to each other in gruff tones while they made sandwiches for dinner. 
“You have a problem.” 
Eddie can't decide whether to bicker or dote, squeezing you tightly, a promise about new problems lost to the growing ruckus of the elementary school after hours. Some parents have brought their children, but the majority stand chatting in lines to see the teachers. You and Eddie have come through the main entrance of the building rather than the side door where Roan enters, and the walk to Mrs. Lundy's room is longer than usual, though far from unpleasant. Light shines through the windows where a rainbow of creatures have been painted, leaving glowing shapes of apricot, cerulean, and lilac on your skin as you pass. 
“You're like a Christmas tree,” Eddie says. 
“I just need some tinsel.” You point at the decorations hanging from Mrs. Lundy's doorway. “Like that.” 
“You want some tinsel? I'll get you some tinsel, baby, just give me a minute. And maybe distract her.” 
You refuse to help him steal from Mrs. Lundy, and spend your time in line waiting with his hands held firmly in yours to prohibit any theft. Eddie moans about being jailed but is otherwise content. He quite likes it, actually, rearranging your fingers to stroke your knuckles. 
Mrs. Lundy is smiling, happy to see you and brag about your girl. She starts with Roan's general education, her behaviour, her grades, though this young she doesn't have grades so much as milestones. Roan is smart but no wizz kid (not that you care), she's kind (but not always good at sharing), she's loud, and rambunctious, a great artist, and she's very, very happy. 
“She talks about your wedding all the time. Every day. She tells us she's going to be the flower girl, and the best man, and that she has a beautiful dress.” Mrs. Lundy beams. “She's walking on sunshine.” The teacher's smile turns soft, almost wistful. “Well, she's Roan. You know what she's like better than I do.” 
Your cheeks ache with pride. 
“She's a good kid,” Eddie says. 
“Yes!” Mrs. Lundy reaches across the desk for a turquoise-coloured folder. “There was actually something I wanted to share with you both… You know we have creative writing assignments, and obviously we help them with making real sentences, but what she has to say is very much of her own volition.” 
Mrs. Lundy pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and puts it down in front of your hands. “The prompt was what makes you happy,” she says. 
The first sentence is simple. 
My mommy. 
A drawing of you decorates the page above the lines, so clearly you, your smile wide and pink. 
My mommy is kind and I love her. Dad sayd the wedding is speshul becase he loves her, but she will be my mom. She makes me so happy. Mommy says she loves me all of the time, and she brushus my hair. My best part of the day is when Y/N comes home and hugs me. We are so happy, and Lucky gets dinner. I love my dad too, and Uncle Wayn. 
Her spelling errors have been corrected in green pen, and her backwards letters are written forwards for her to copy. You read the entire paragraph in a blur, thinking about how long it must've taken her to get it all down, nearly an entire page in her bubbly handwriting, big letters running off of the page. 
“Needless to say,” Mrs. Lundy says, “that most children write about their families, or their pets, or their toys. But Roan was extremely focused on the word love. She's clearly going home to a loving home every night.” Mrs. Lundy smiles at Eddie. You nearly miss it, reading the paragraph again, and then a third time. 
“Can I take this?” you ask, clearing your throat, tears brewed and bobbing on your waterline, desperate to be shed. “Is that okay?” 
Eddie laughs and elbows you in the arm. “Come on, it's hardly news.” 
You wipe your eyes before you can cry in front of them both. “I'm sorry, just– can I?” 
Mrs. Lundy beams again, emphasising the well-worn smile lines at the corners of her lips and creasing beside her eyes. 
You hold it together well for a little while. Eddie talks over your wobbly silence, a hand on your shoulder, assuring Mrs. Lundy that you're all, in fact, very happy, and he's just glad that Roan is being a good student and friend to her classmates. Mrs. Lundy's kindness and Roan's love letter to you has knocked you entirely off kilter, and you're crying before you've reached the car. They're happy tears. 
“Come on,” Eddie says, taking the paper you've folded carefully from your fingers as they clench. “She's said nicer to you in person.” 
And sure she has. Roan loves hitting you with the saccharine when you're not expecting it. Drying her hair after bath time, totally distracted, she'll kiss your cheek and say, “You're so pretty.” She sprinkles I love you's wherever they'll fit like her dad does, and she shows it with little gifts and cuddles and invitations. Y/N, do you want to have a fashion show with me? Y/N, can we have ice cream in bed? Can I do your hair, please, mommy? 
“It's different. It's different,” you insist, scrambling to find the words. “She's…” You rub your eyes. Your makeup is smudging, but you can't help it. “I don't even know what to say.” 
Eddie shrugs. Lean shoulders, a loving arm behind your back, the car in sight but getting no closer, he comforts you in the middle of the parking lot while the passing headlights kiss your shoes. “You know how much she loves you, babe. This is a good thing, right? You're not upset?” 
“Not upset,” you clarify. 
“Okay, good. Is this a bad time for me to say that I am profoundly jealous right now? I used to get all the drawings and cards, I used to get Mother's day gifts. I have a mother's day card up in the attic… might have to get it out,” —he kisses your cheek— “just to cope.” 
You laugh through a sniffle. “Let's go get it,” you say. 
He presses Roan's assignment back into your hand. “You can keep that one, but don't get it out around me. I'm serious.” 
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impyssadobsessions · 3 months
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I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!
The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.
Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.
There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.
So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.
Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.
Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.
Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.
Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”
Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...
AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.
Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3
Link to prompt
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kimjun · 6 months
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Package | Bat family x reader
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You never stopped to think about being a mother, you are young and it was too early to think. Well, until you meet Bruce Wayne. You met him by accident, really an accident, you ran him over with your bike and then you went out to get to know each other better.
After many meetings, the marriage proposal finally arrived. As said above, you didn't think about being a mother. But marrying Bruce Wayne came with a package.
The first package was Dick.
He was adorable, he was always around you, he bragged to everyone that he had an incredibly beautiful mother. Mom, it was a surprise when you heard that word addressed to you.
It was a Friday, you went to pick Dick up from school because Alfred was on vacation, so you went to Dick's school. You were at the gate waiting, while sending some messages to friends and Bruce, little Dick approaches along with three boys.
—I told you she was beautiful. - Dick points at you, then crosses his arms.
—Wow.- one of the boys says.
—Stop drooling over my mother. –Dick speaks naturally as he gets into the car.
On the other hand, you become paralyzed trying to absorb the new information. When you finally get in the car, Dick hands you a drawing, it's him, you and Bruce.
—You can throw it away if you want. - Dick says, putting on his belt.
You've had this drawing saved for over fifteen years. A memory of the first time you became a mother.
—It's very beautiful, my love, thank you very much.
—Is it okay if I call you mom?
—You are my son, obviously you should call me mother.
Dick is a mama's boy, even at twenty-two he still runs into her arms.
The second package was Jason.
You were already in your pajamas, the calm rain turned into a storm and Bruce was already on his way back. You just didn't expect Bruce Wayne to show up with a boy cowering from the cold.
—Honey.- Bruce looked completely embarrassed. —This is Jason.
The boy looked at you, his beautiful eyes made you sigh with love for your newest baby.
-I am __.
It was a complicated relationship at first, in fact Jason only let you get close to him. He spent time with you at the library, you created a book club that was just the two of you.
It was a trusting relationship, when Jason had nightmares you would always be with him.
—It's okay, love, I'm here.
Jason started calling you mom because Dick did that.
—Are you my mother too? - Jason asked with his mouth covered in chocolate.
—Of course, right, - replies Dick. — If you're my brother, idiot.
He starts calling you mom. And you love the fact that you have two boys. Jason is also a mama's boy. When you learned of Jason's death the world stopped, you fell into a deep depression that you had to hide because Bruce Wayne brought a surprise.
The third package was Tim.
It was a little difficult, it wasn't Tim's fault, you love him, but he came so quickly that you haven't accepted Jason's death yet. The pain is horrible. But Tim needed love and you tried.
Tim heard you lost a son and it was still hard. He saw you crying several times, even though you hid to not show how fragile you are. Then one day, Tim came into the room where you were crying. He climbed onto the bed and hugged you.
—I'm sorry, I didn't want you to feel this pain, mom. - Tim was hugging you.
-Oh my love.
You were healing, Tim was there to help you, he knew you were broken.
-Mother?
-what?
—Nothing, it's cool to call you that.
—How about making cookies? - you smile.
—And coffee?
—You are prohibited from drinking coffee.
Tim is a mama's baby, he's always by your side when you need him, you take care of him with so much love that he just wants to reciprocate.
It is Tim who breaks the news that Jason is alive.
Bruce Wayne doesn't know when to stop and you don't really care.
The fourth package was Damian.
—Are you saying you have a child with another woman?
You need time to understand the situation, when Bruce explains it you still get suspicious. A new kid in the mansion. Harder than Jason as a teenager.
—Damian, it's going to rain, take an umbrella. - you say.
Damian looks at you.
—You're not my mother, you don't command me. - he leaves in a huff, taking the umbrella.
A new member of the book club, Jason was reluctant before accepting that Damian could join the club.
You noticed Damian was slowly approaching. If you are in the kitchen, he will come up to you and ask what you are doing. If you leave, he asks if he can come along. At the market he pushes the cart for you.
-Can I have this? - Damian points to some chocolates. He sighs remembering what Thalia told him.
You pass Damian picking up several bars.
—Yes, you can, my love.
Damian never complained about you calling him baby, living by your side is peaceful because you are a different person than his mother.
Damian wrote you a letter, actually a note.
YOU WANT TO BE MINE MOTHER?
Yes ( ) or no ( )
You thought it was so cute, you squeezed Damian saying yes, you accepted being his mother.
Damian is mommy's little baby to this day, he will always come to you looking for mommy's hugs and kisses.
Bruce Wayne is a big surprise, you love him, you love his children but every time you leave you fear that he will return with another child.
—I love you, but please try to have control, we have too many children. - you laugh.
—I think it's over, don't worry.
-He is sure?
—I think so, I'm going to stop adopting for a bit.
—You need therapy. - you laugh kissing your husband.
—We should have a baby of our own. - Bruce grumbles. You laugh, getting up from the couch.
—We already have too many children. - you scream running to the kitchen.
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 year
Note
Dealer!remus would love to eat his girl out after he smokes. He doesn't know what it is but youe taste after he smokes just gets him going.
You never stop teasing him about the time he made himself cum in his pants just by eating you out
oh my god cw: oral [fem receiving], smut, overstimulation, MDNI, 18+ ONLY
it’s your fault.
that’s what remus tells himself as he snuffs out the butt of his blunt and watches you cross your legs next to him.
your skirt bunches up on your thighs and the more of it he sees, the harder it is to look away.
“dove,” the rasp in his voice makes you turn, legs moving a little and skirt rising higher.
remus is convinced you’re doing this on purpose.
“stop it,” he mumbles, his hands already moving to your thighs making you laugh.
“not again,” you giggle, eyes focused on his your boyfriend’s hands can’t seem to stop trailing over your now full exposed thighs. “remus, last time you didn’t let me move for an hour. and i was sore after.”
you’re always sore after; remus’ motto is, “good girls come at least twice.” there’s never been a day where you’ve only had two orgasms- the man seems incapable of it.
“you started this,” he defends himself poorly, already moving to his stomach and pushing your legs apart.
there’s little resistance on your end and maybe that’s why you enjoy his breathless, ‘f’king ‘ell’ when your thighs fall apart and reveal you’re panty-less.
“dove,” his eyes are barely even hazel anymore and you’d laugh if his nose wasn’t brushing against your inner thighs. “can i?”
like you’d ever say no.
there’s an art to the way remus eats you out.
it’s less, ‘eating’ and more like he’s making out with your cunt.
he drops a kiss to your clit and you swear he murmurs, “hi pretty girl,” to your cunt before his tongue licks up at your sopping entrance.
his technique is all tongue and sucking, laving and spreading your thighs and your lips to get more of your cunt exposed.
“so good,” he groans, nose bumping your clit as his tongue licks at all your arousal.
it’s hard to stay still when he’s making you feel that good and no matter how many times remus eats you out it’s a skill you know you’ll never learn.
“remus,” you mewl, hands reaching down to push his mouth off your clit when his hand comes down heavily to your thigh.
“don’t,” he doesn’t even look up at you. if you look down, you’ll find his eyes closed- like he’s savoring every moment of this.
he is.
when you’ve come twice, like a fool you think that’s it, but then he’s pushing your thighs back and sliding two fingers into you.
“remmy,” you moan, hands reaching for something to grab onto. “fuck baby,” you cry, tears pooling in your eyes as his mouth suctions your clit.
your hand finds his free one, fingers interlocked as you squeeze his digits as he draws two more orgasms from you.
by the time he pulls away from your pussy, your top is soaked with sweat and you can’t stop jolting.
remus has the most smug yet content look about him, face wet with you as he leans up to kiss you.
“thanks dove,” he speaks the words on your lips and all you can do is give him a small smile, body too fucked out to form words.
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gallusrostromegalus · 14 days
Note
My drawing skills suck are very unpracticed but I have a mighty need to create fanart of the garbage tarot. I don't even know anything about the source material but I am in love with these idiots.
Actually... I do a lot more mixed-media than I do drawing........... Hmm...
As a Completely Unrelated Thought, what do you think Zaraki's handwriting would look like?
I'm glad you asked because there's na specific answer for AEIWAM fic! Zaraki!
(Note: in AEIWAM, Kakiyo was Tousen's adopted sister, not an unrequited crush, and she raised money to go to the academy by working as a travelling schoolteacher for a while)
---
The first time Yamamoto gets a report from Zaraki, it genuinely throws him for a loop. Its a thorough if somewhat gruesome report about the 11th dealing with a pack of hollows that had been attacking isolated villages. Nothing Yamamoto was not already used to, but reading descriptions of mutilated villagers is somehow more unsettling when the descriptions look like this:
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(a stylistic example)
Yamamoto takes him to task next meeting.
(continued under the cut)
"I know you're still learning the job Zaraki, but you can't foist your paperwork off on Miss Kusajishi." Yamamoto growls.
"I... Didn't? What?" Zaraki looks extremely confused, but the Captain-General is not fooled.
"You mean to tell me THIS is your handwriting?" Yamamoto snaps, throwing the report on the table, sheets spilling out as it slid down the length of it, so everyone could see the bizarre cutesy hand it was written in.
Zaraki's face darkened, jaw clenched. "Yeah. What about it? You goin' blind as well as senile?" He growled.
"THIS IS THE HANDWRITING OF A LITTLE GIRL, ZARAKI, DO YOU HAVE THE SAME HANDWRITING AS YOUR DAUGHTER?" Yamamoto slammed his hand on the table, temperature sharply increasing around him.
Zaraki began to arch his back and crackle with Reiatsu as well, but was stopped by loud ringing chime and a hand on his arm.
Yamamoto blinked in surprise to see Tousen, of all people , holding the giant back. There was a click as Tousen fully re-sheathed his sword. Suzumushi's chime wouldn't effect either of them, but it redirected their attention very effectively.
"My apologies, Yamamoto-sama." He bowed his head before turning his ear up at Zaraki. "Kakiyo wrote about this to me. You could only afford for one of you to receive schooling, right?"
Zaraki huffed and shook himself before answering. "Yeah, I was a broke-ass bastard before this." He grumbled, scratching his neck in a de-escalation feature. "Yer sister was a fuckin' saint and a genius. Neither of you have any business tellin' the whole world though."
"I think it was an exceptionally brave and difficult thing you did." Tousen shrugged. "Even when she used that method, less than one in a hundred parents actually stuck to it, much less achieved what you have."
Zaraki started looking everywhere but at Tousen, thinking. "... wouldn't call it brave, it was just makin' sure she was doin' good in school." He muttered.
Tousen kept listening intently at Zaraki. May I tell Yamamoto-sama so he doesn't cause another scene?"
"You're going to tell me what you're muttering about whether you like it or not." Yamamoto menaced.
"My sister taught Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi how to read and write." Kaname sighed and took off his goggles to rub the bridge of his nose. "It's extremely common in the Rukongai to have to teach children whose parents have never had any kind of schooling. Many of the parents would like to go to school too, but can only afford to send their children- actually , usually only one child. It's not usually an issue of money, but time- the parents can't afford to miss fishing season, or spare any siblings because they're needed on the farm. But, when you have a parent who is as attentive and caring as Zaraki-"
"Tttch!" Zaraki huffed at Kaname, who pointedly ignored him.
"-You can get around the schooling fees and scheduling problems by telling the student that their homework is to teach their parents what they learned in school that day. The homework you give the students is for their parents to do after they pass the lesson on and grade them on how well they taught their family." Kaname explained, putting his goggles back on. "Kakiyo was in awe of Miss Kusajishi's dedication to teaching you, and immensely proud of your efforts."
Zaraki still refused to look at Tousen, but his ears were bright red.
"...ohhh." Ukitake realized. "Wow, that's... I thought it was impossible to learn how after a certain age, that's - well, I don't think it's something I could have done!"
"What?" Glared Yamamoto.
"Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi have the same handwriting because he learned how to read and write by learning her school lessons from her." Unohana translated. "-An exceptionally difficult way to learn, and commendable for even trying." She continued, arching an eyebrow at him as a warning.
"Yeah and with all due respect Yama-ji? You're not exactly in a position to be complaining about anyone else's handwriting-" added Shunsui. "Zaraki's handwriting is odd, but it's perfectly legible. Nanao-chan framed your last memo because she thought it was an abstract painting."
Yamamoto turned to Shunsui with an aggravated glare.
"I'm afraid I have to second Kyoraku-taicho." Tousen said, without an ounce of chagrin in his voice. "The kido spell on my glasses can translate nearly everyone's hand, but the only person in the ninth who can read your memos to me is third-seat Maegawa, and mostly because she's had several centuries practice."
"Wait, we were supposed to be getting memos?" Mayuri squawked. "Dammit! I thought that squiggly garbage was the fax machine breaking every other week! I disassembled that thing three times trying to fix it!"
"You can all shut up now." Yamamoto snarled, and everyone did, but there were still a lot of pointed looks around the table, and Unohana's eyebrow had not resumed it's usual curvature yet. "Please consider my complaint withdrawn."
Unohana's eyebrow arched further and she cracked her eye open to reveal a coal-black iris, going from Warning to Threat.
"...My apologies, Zaraki-taicho. That was. Inconsiderate of me." Yamamoto muttered.
"Ya gonna shut up about it now?" Zaraki asked, not quite facing Yamamoto, but back still arched.
"I will hold my judgment in check in the future." Yamamoto acquiesced, watching him.
"Sure." Zaraki grunted, shaking his shoulders to drop the subject. "Right, what the fuck were we doing?" He asked, returning to the agenda.
---
After the meeting, Tousen took a minute to stand in the late afternoon sun, exhaling and releasing the tension of the day, when someone grabbed one shoulder and plopped something heavy on the other.
"Yeh didn't have to do that." Zaraki grunted just behind Tousen's ear, his forehead resting on the small man's shoulder, half gratitude, half grumble.
"One of the responsibilities of a captain is to keep the general in check, and I had a particularly good opening to stop that nonsense for good." Kaname hummed, hand reflexively coming up to touch the giant's head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing over the scarred visage and peculiar hairstyle.
"Didn't read that in the employee handbook." Zaraki grunted, grin in his voice.
"Yamamoto wrote those handbooks, and he'd rather we let him do as he pleases. You have to learn how to read between the lines, Zaraki." Kaname teased.
Zaraki gave his strange, low clicking chuckle of amusement and affectionately mock-bit Kaname's ear before standing up, still holding his other shoulder.
"...Thanks. " he muttered, giving his arm a squeeze and stepping away. "Gotta go pick up Sensei, you talk to her if you think I need more tutoring!" Zaraki waved, striding off to collect Yachiru in completely the opposite direction from her school.
"ITS THE OTHER- oh, he'll figure it out." Kaname sighed.
The sun was low in the sky, but it was still warm, and the first Cricket of summer started chirping, startling him. Suzumushi chirped with it, singing her mournful loss of her original wielder, but not so despairing this time.
"Kaname?" Sajin asked, heard before he was felt as usual. The lieutenant's meeting must have wrapped up late.
Kaname smiled and put a finger up, indicating he should listen. Sajin did, helmet tipping slightly to hear.
"Crickets!" Sajin realized, and offered Kaname his gauntlets hand to lead him home. "...I miss Kakiyo too." He sighed.
"You're not really gone if some part of you lives on in someone else." Kaname hummed. "I realized she is not so far gone today."
"Oh?" Sajin asked. "Where does she live on?"
"Have you read any of Zaraki-taocho's reports yet?" Kaname grinned. "His hand is not his hand alone."
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slobber-teeth · 27 days
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[trudges back into the sniper tag] hey guys. have you met my wife
this is lawry (she/he pronouns) i have been cooking up a lot of lore about him lately, mostly just trying to find a balance between canon and fanon sniper + my brain worms. trying to experiment with how i want her to look... (partial to change!)
rambling notes on his design, from top to bottom, left to right:
i think lawry hated getting her hair cut as a kid, to the point that her parents stopped worrying about it looking good and instead just getting it over with as painlessly as possible. as a kid she didn't like being looked at all that much, especially under scrutiny. this is the post-haircut regret of the first time lawry cut his own hair-- he never cut it this short again. lesson learned!
this is probably how she wears her hair during her time with the RED team. he just trims it every once in a while when it starts to annoy him or get in the way of his vision (when he doesn't have it slicked back, that is.) no hair product necessary, her hair is so sweaty and greasy it holds it's shape pretty well when lawry combs it back.
post-canon he lets his hair grow out longer (probably because solly is no longer around to threaten to shave it off, dirty hippie.) her acne gets worse as a result because she's not really used to dealing with so much hair, and isn't about to start caring about washing it daily.
just an extra of lawry's collar. i think he's got more than just this one, and maybe i'll draw them in the future and talk about when and why he wears them.
anyways please feel free to send me asks about her!! some of my answers might come with art!
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erissheiress · 7 months
Text
Lonely Anymore
The Inner Circle x Reader
Warnings: depression, mentions of feeling numb, mention of blood and crying, alcohol, platonic intimacy, mentioned Feyre, Elain and Nesta, reader doesn't like Nesta and Elain bc I dont lol. Repost from my main blog.
Summary: You need your family, and they need you.
Word count: 782
Taglist: 
* * *
The window was wide open, harsh gusts of wind blowing into the room, disrupting papers on the desk and blowing your hair into your face, stinging your skin and making your eyes water.
Yet, you hardly seemed to notice the biting cold that struck your skin, hardly flinching, or moving from where you sat on the armchair, legs folded and arms around your knees, hugging them close to your chest. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands, nearly drawing blood, but again, it attracted none of your attention.
Your eyes were dull, dark bags under your eyes, from exhaustion mostly. Tears had streamed down your cheeks earlier but not anymore, you simply had no tears left to give to the world, nothing more you could offer.
You had given this world your blood, sweat and tears, your love and your dreams, and in return it had given you the one thing you always lacked;
A family.
The Inner Circle.
It had started with Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, and Mor. Then Amren, then Feyre. Nesta and Elain joined then, though you didn't like them very much, but that was possibly because of how they treated your High Lady, and finally baby Nyx, the newest, and your favourite, member of the family.
So the world gave you a family, and a chance of being loved.
But that was never going to be all, was it? It seemed that the world wasn't quite finished with you yet
No, it gave you hate as well as love, fear as well as joy, pain as well as care. 
It caused your dreams to turn to nightmares, your hopes to failures, your youthful innocence to turn to hardened pessimism. 
You're not sure when you stopped feeling like you were part of the family, perhaps it was over Solstice? Solstice where you sat in the corner as Feyre and Rhys cuddled Nyx in front of the fire, as Nesta and Cassian playfully bickered while Azriel and Elain laughed at their banter, as well as Mor who happily danced in the centre of the room, swinging a bottle of wine around like a weapon.
And you.. you just sat there, nursing your own wine, suddenly feeling lonelier than you had ever felt before. As you watched them each be happy in their own ways, a weight settled on your chest, and had stayed there ever since.
You did your job, played an active role as a member of the Night Court, but distanced yourself as well. They didn't seem to notice, only little Nyx, who crawled onto your lap one evening and poked your cheek, a frown on his adorable face.
"Sad"
"I'm not sad, Nyxie."
But he only frowned even more. "sad" before planting a wet kiss on your chin. "Happy."
"Yes darling, your kisses make me very happy."
Babies were so easy to satisfy.
So now you sat alone in your room, on an uncomfortable chair, without warm clothes, while the winter air froze your body, yet not bothering you at all.
You didn't feel anything, just numb.
You didn't feel anything when the window closed suddenly, or when footsteps entered the room. 
You didn't feel anything when strong arms lifted you to your bed, or when calloused hands stroked your hair softly. 
Or when four other figures clambered into the bed with you, three Illyrian males and one female. 
You only felt something when the blonde smoothed your hair out of your face and looked at you with the softest expression you had ever seen on her face.
"We love you, you know that right?" and you felt it all of a sudden, like a wave of emotion. Overwhelming you completely. 
You'd learn later that Azriel lay closest to you, and it was him that carried you to the bed and held you so snugly, that it was Cassian who stroked your hair so softly and it was Rhysand who shut the windows, using his abilities to heat your frigid room. 
You'd learn all this later but for now you let it out like a burst dam, as you sobbed into Azriel's chest, three other pairs of hands comforting you in some way, the best way they could. 
Your family.
A 5th figure, a shorter female slipped in at one point, taking a protective position at the end of the bed, comforting you the only way she knew how, and was appreciated nonetheless. 
You loved Feyre, and Elain and Nesta were part of the circle now too, but for now you needed your first family, and they mentally vowed to spend as much time as possible convincing you that they needed you too. 
That they needed you, that they loved you, that you were important to them, and that they'd always be there for you.
That you didn't have to be lonely anymore.
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
Note
Request: smooth as butter Steve flirting with Eddie while the CC boys watch in shock as their ruthless Eddie turns red(?) and gets all blushy bc he doesn't know how to deal with this STEVE???? making it better:it happens during DND the one time Eddie gets Steve to play & the entire time Steve's human bard character flirting hardcore with Eddie via his NPC's (the kids aren't involved in this one just Steddie & Corroded Coffin boys)
MY LOVEEEEEEE!!!! Okay I have never played. I know. Hush, I know. My best friend wants me to so bad she bought me dice. And like, I probably will, but like Steve, my brain is trying to not only deal with math, but also just how involved it all is. I like games that take about half a brain cell. I'm also super bad at the flirting thing, in real life and when writing. I just cannot do it my friends. But I did my best here and I hope it isn't the worst😂 - Mickala ❤️
--------------------------------------------------
He was doing this for Dustin.
He made a character sheet with Lucas, went over the basics, learned that maybe the math part wouldn’t be so bad.
And then he convinced Eddie to let him do a one shot with the Corroded Coffin guys so he could get a feel for it all without Dustin knowing.
He didn’t get that creative with his character according to Lucas, but he was also supportive and understanding that Steve wasn’t doing this as a regular thing.
Eddie explained to the guys that they needed to be patient, that Steve was genuinely trying to learn.
“Everyone was new once, so I don’t wanna hear anything from any of you about how annoying it is to have to take it so slow and explain everything. He’s trying to do a nice thing for Henderson and we’re going to be nice.”
Everyone groaned, but nodded in agreement.
“Are we talking about your crush on him yet, or is that still off the table?” Gareth had the gall to ask.
“There’s no crush to even have on the table,” Eddie said.
“Sure, dude.”
—--------------
Things were not going well.
Well, okay, they weren’t going bad.
It’s just that Lucas apparently explained to Steve that being in character was very important and Steve failed to mention that his character’s charisma was the highest possible option.
He shouldn’t be surprised by that.
Maybe he’s just surprised with all the blatant flirting.
The guys keep shooting him looks like they know that he’s struggling, that they can see that he is barely able to hold onto the power the DM usually has.
“The guard stops you, but he recognizes you. ‘You’re the one who stole the sword!’ he yells, catching the attention of the other guards. You panic because your party is still hiding in the bush with strict instructions not to be seen unless they draw their weapons on you. How will you respond?”
Steve smirked.
Not good. Run away. Get out, Munson, you’re fucked.
But he couldn’t leave.
He was the DM, and they were barely halfway done with what he had planned.
He had to see this through and he had to give Steve the best possible introduction to this game.
It was for Dustin.
“I’d probably have to insist that it wasn’t me he saw, but that I sure wish I’d seen him before. Maybe wink at him,” Steve said. “Actually, definitely wink at him.”
Steve looked at everyone else, smile silently asking for approval.
Everyone smirked at Eddie before giving him a thumbs up.
Traitors.
He’d be saying something later for sure.
“The guard is still suspicious, but waves the other guards off. He looks you over, circles you, decides to take your only weapon.”
“Not my only weapon. I still have plenty of time to distract him.”
Eddie squints at him, just as suspicious as the guard in their game.
“Roll for-”
“Persuasion, right?” Steve interrupted.
“Sure. Roll for persuasion, Stevie,” Eddie pretended not to be flustered at Steve remembering aspects of the game.
“18!” Steve yelled. “Plus the 13. So that’s…” he held his hand up while he thought about it. “31!”
Everyone at the table cheered except for Eddie.
He knew what was coming.
“I offer to let the guard check me for weapons in private if he’s still suspicious. I tell him it’s better to take all my clothes off where he can do something about it.”
Eddie hated what was happening.
He hated that he could feel how red his face was, and how much Steve was thriving off of putting Eddie off of his own game.
He hated the way the guys were all watching, literally holding their breath for Eddie’s reaction.
“The guard decides to lead you past the gate, but instead of taking you to the entrance to the castle, he leads you down a side road. It leads to a small cottage, and you start to worry that your party won’t find you.”
Steve doesn’t even hesitate.
“I let him lead me where he wants. I can take it.”
Eddie is going to die. Right here.
Steve knows what he’s doing, what he’s saying.
He knows what he is doing to Eddie.
And, okay, maybe they haven’t talked about it, maybe they’ve both been avoiding the very obvious tension between them for months. Maybe Eddie could have taken a chance any of the times they’ve been alone lately to finally talk about it.
Or maybe Steve would just keep flirting with him through this stupid game until Eddie couldn’t even do what he needed to do.
And everyone around them would just get to watch it unfold.
Jeff, his only friend at the moment, cleared his throat and decided to speak up.
“I think the rest of the party should follow. Just in case he needs backup. Guys?”
Thank God for Jeff.
It continues, the rest of the party finds a way to get past the guards, and Eddie admits to himself that he’s making it easier on purpose.
He wants, no, needs this game to end.
And he gets his wish ten minutes later when the phone rings and it’s Dustin, begging for a ride.
Eddie ignores the fact that he called his trailer knowing Steve would be here already, but the rest of the group doesn’t.
While Steve is on the phone, they all quietly tease Eddie.
“If I knew Steve would fluster you this much, I think we would have invited him a long time ago,” Grant said.
“Yeah, we probably would’ve had much easier campaigns if he joined in high school,” Gareth added.
“Yeah? Next time you all get to die, how about that? Terrible, bloody deaths. Gareth gets tortured.”
Before any of them could answer, Steve came into the room, looking a bit sad.
“Sorry about this guys. I couldn’t really come up with a reason that I couldn’t go without giving it away what I was doing. We could pause and come back to it later?”
Eddie knew the guys would be fine with just calling it here; They’d managed to get far enough along that they knew it would have been a good win for them.
“Nah, you did good. Maybe you can join us for real after Dustin’s birthday campaign,” Jeff said.
Steve beamed back at him.
“Maybe, yeah. If you guys are cool with it.”
Was he…shy?
He was just flirting up a storm! Absolutely taking the lead in a game he’d never played before! And now he was being shy?
“Hell yeah!” They all agreed.
Great, Steve was making friends with his friends.
“Alright!” Steve clapped his hands together. “I’m off to get the kid. Thanks guys!”
He started to leave, but stopped by Eddie.
Then his lips were on the top of Eddie’s head.
“Bye guys!” He said as he continued to walk out.
Eddie’s eyes were wide, unblinking. The guys were all staring at him with the same wide, unblinking eyes.
The front door to the trailer closed.
“Uh,” Eddie said.
“Did he-”
“He just-”
“On your head.”
“Uh.”
The front door opened.
Steve was standing in the doorway to the kitchen area, eyes wide, unblinking.
“Did I-”
“Uh huh,” Eddie answered.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that…okay?”
He was looking nervously between the guys and Eddie, like he expected someone to punch him.
“Oh! Yeah. No, they’re good. Um. Did you want to kiss me?”
“Yeah. I kinda…always do?”
“Always?”
“Yes. It’s kind of all I think about.”
Eddie took it all back; This was the best and he had never been happier that Steve wanted to play D&D.
He didn’t even care about the guys watching as he stood from his chair and walked to Steve in the doorway.
“Me too.”
He pulled Steve against him, ignoring the whistles and cheers from the table, and kissed him.
The kiss left them both breathless, despite being barely more than a peck.
“Um, I should go get Dustin,” Steve whispered.
“Yeah. Come back after?”
“Will everyone still be here?” Steve asked nervously.
“Nope, just you and me, sweetheart,” Eddie replied.
“Good. I’ll be back soon, then.”
When Steve left, Eddie turned back to the group, lovestruck grin on his face.
“So it’s off the table now, right?” Gareth asked, smirking.
“Shut up.”
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