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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 5 months

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Overnight - LN

Summary: Lando hooks up with a fellow party-goer for the Abu Dhabi race, but Lando is stuck on her.

Lando doesn't usually drink much, but sometimes he finds celebrating the end of the season is pretty damn fun with some alcohol involved. Plus Max V has put him on a couple good drinks that don't taste as disgusting as some alcohol he's tried to drink.

And through that, he wakes up with another body in his bed. Which for once isn't just Max F having drunkenly passed out there.

"Morning." Lando greets making her look up from her phone where she had focused her gaze so hard that he brows were scrunched up and her eyes had narrowed.

She's looking about as rough as Lando feels, which means Lando probably doesn't look all that great.

"Hi. Sorry for still being here, I'm trying to locate where the hell my friends are. Then I'll be out your hair." She states as he notices she's wearing a McLaren branded top as she stands up from the sheets looking slightly unsteady and wobbly on her legs.

She's moving around picking up her clothes from the night before while Lando remains silent just admiring her. Admittedly she seems almost timid compared to his usual type, but from what he remembers last night she was more of a wild card. But alcohol is called liquid courage for a reason, although equally it could just be the hangover making her quieter and more eager to leave quickly.

"You don't have to rush off." Lando states feeling the need to reassure her that he's not kicking her out when she's in such a rough state.

"As nice as that is of you to offer. I've got a flight to Italy with the girls. If I haven't already missed the flight since I don't know what time the flight is." Y/n sighs shaking her head as she pulls off the papaya top and reveals her body in all it's glory before beginning to put her clothes back on.

"Can I at least get a last name?" Lando asks making her look at him for a moment then smiling.

"Y/l/n."

"And if I want to find you again for another night?"

"If the universe thinks that's a good idea. I'm sure you'll find me." Y/n states earning a small nod from the driver. "I did have a great time, so I sort of hope that's the case."

Lando smirks a little feeling some hope might be there. Even if it's just another casual hook up.

It took all of a minute for y/n to leave and Lando to find her Instagram, on a burner account because he's not silly. But her account isn't on private and it shows that she's not really anyone special. As harsh as it sounds, she's not famous or even got that many followers. Her follow count is under 1000 and she's pretty active. Documenting her travels with the girls.

She seems to be travelling constantly which makes Lando feel like he's finding even more appeal in her.

According to her Instagram story she missed her flight and the girls left her stranded. Not for the first time if her story highlights say anything, but they've apparently all been left to catch up on a later flight.

Lando ends up going home to Monaco with Max joining him,.

"So you're obsessed with a hook up. You realise that she probably doesn't even realise who you are." Max points out much to his friend's annoyance.

Not that he's bothered about her not knowing who he is, but the idea that he's somehow so hooked on her while she is so unbothered and just moving on with her life because to her it's no big deal that she slept with a stranger who is essentially a nobody.

"Stop stalking her social medias and maybe just do something on your main account so she knows who you are."

"So I look like a creep? No." Lando scoffs as he locks his phone and tosses it away.

Turns out that Lando didn't have to follow her because actually he noticed over the next couple days she'd started following him. Not on his burner account, which he's still using to stalk her. But on his actual official account, it's came up that she's following him in her short list of following.

But what really shocks him is when he goes back over to Woking and sees her walking down the street as he drives back to his house.

So either she's stalking him, or this is the universe. Either way, he's about to let her know he's there. Pulling over and parking up further down the road then walking back up and nearing her.

"Y/n?" He questions making her turn from where she looked to be about to cross the road.

"Lando...fancy seeing you here." Y/n smiles before she laughs and offers a hug, clearly not being one to shy from physical contact. "How have you been? What are you doing here of all places?"

"My headquarters for my work is here. What are you doing here?"

"One of the girls I travel with is from here. We all make an effort to drop by to one of our home towns at least every few months." Y/n smiles with a shrug then sighing. "It's good seeing you again."

"It's good seeing you too...If you aren't familiar with the area. I could give you a drive around. Out of the rain." Lando states as fat drops begin to fall making y/n look up.

"I quite like the rain." She teases before she nods a little. "Sounds good though. I could use a beacon of knowledge on the area to show me around."

"My car is just over here." Lando nods as the rain starts to get heavier and he guides her over to his McLaren then opening the passenger door and closing it behind her.

Once he's seated in too, he starts the engine and pulls away.

"So how have you been? How was Italy?"

"Oh god, so amazing. I could've stayed there forever, the history, the people, just the architecture." Y/n sighs dreamily. "Certainly not Woking..."

"No. I mean I don't think I'd be coming here of choice if I didn't have work here."

"Yeah...you never mentioned what you did. Would've been nice to know I was in bed with a millionaire."

"Would that have changed anything?"

"I might've lied and said I charge quite a lot by the hour for sex." Y/n jokes then grinning while Lando shakes his head and laughs at her for having the confidence to make a joke like that. "My friends told me off for being such an idiot. But I mean I have watched a bit of F1 out of curiosity and I have to say, it's pretty good to watch."

"If I'm not your favourite, I'll never forgive you." Lando states hearing her laugh quite hard.

"I mean I'm watching everything out of order, but you seem pretty talented if I do say so only as a new admirer of the sport."

"Thank you."

The two continue talking before an idea that Lando had thought up long before now. He offers her a new location to travel to and explore, free of cost.

"You know, I'm heading back to Monaco. You should come with me."

"Back to Monaco? Do you work there too?"

So she hasn't done her research as much as Lando has done on her, well as much as he can from stalking the 8 years her social media accounts go back to.

"I live in Monaco."

"Oh my god." Y/n whispers to herself clearly in disbelief of the situation she's in right now before she turns and looks at him proving she never put on her seatbelt when she sat down. "Lando...what is happening right now? I need you to spell it out for me. Because if I'm getting the wrong impression, I'd rather know now."

"I'm inviting you to come home with me...I live on my own and my family live in England so worry." Lando states while she continues to look at him in distress. "Have you ever been to Monaco?"

"No."

"I think you'd like it."

The silence shows her hesitation but she softens slightly and slumps back again.

"You know, I'm not the type to really stalk someone. But my friends are. F1 drivers date models and social media influencers or other athletes." Y/n murmurs then swallowing. "I just don't know if whatever you have in mind with me is going to be something I live up to."

"It's not as if it's a clause in our contracts that we only date people with a big following." Lando murmurs almost regretting it. Not that he can hold it against her but it still sucks that this conversation is happening at all. "I just think we had a good time...good sex...I think you're an interesting person. I'm on a winter break for work right now, but I travel of work so if things worked out then you could travel with me to really cool places."

Y/n can't hide her smile before she tilts her head a little.

"Have you been stalking my instagram?" Y/n asks making Lando's face flush suddenly as his grip tightens on the wheel. "Just there was this new account I'd never seen before watching all my stories, didn't like any of my posts or anything but definitely has been watching my stories like it's a religion and the account has no followers, not posts...just very empty for such an active account."

"I may...have an account that isn't my main account which I use to just look around. But I couldn't stop myself from being interested in seeing what sort of life you lead." Lando smiles as he turns a corner.

"Thank you."

Lando's feelings for y/n seemed to grow over night from the party they met and from there she's been a constant in his mind with Christmas and New Year having been and gone but she's just been lingering in his mind through it all.

"Maybe we focus on the here and now?" Y/n offers since talking about travelling together when the season is still over a month away.

"Would you like to come to see my house that I have here in Woking?" Lando offers earning a grin from her and a small laugh. "It's a cool house."

"I mean I would hope so." Y/n jokes before smile at him.

Again overnight things change. But only because y/n goes from spending the night to ending up spending a week with Lando and then messaging the girls to say she's being flew to Monaco by the f1 driver she had a one night stand with.

"This is the coolest thing ever." Y/n gasps looking around the private jet like an excited toddler. Touching everything while Lando smiles in amusement over something he's grown accustom to and doesn't think anything of.

Y/n eventually sits down on Lando's lap kissing him, which is actually something new that he's slowly been getting used to.

"Thank you. This is already the coolest way of travelling I'd never be able to afford otherwise." Y/n states while Lando just continues smiles at her. He really never thought it would feel this good to bring someone home with him to Monaco but there's definitely no regrets about it.

When they land in Nice, they get a ride to Monaco and y/n can hardly sit still in the car as they drive through Monte Carlo. Her eyes looking every which way.

Then they arrive at his apartment and she looks around, shameless inspecting his belongings and his choice of decoration. Not that he's done much to decorate. But she seems to love it all, big eyes widened as if they were trying to take everything in at once.

"You know I think I see why you travel so much." Lando comments making her turn and frown a little. "It's not a bad thing."

"Why do you think I travel so much?"

"Because you want to see everything."

"I guess I do sort of want to see everything...you do have one of the nicest apartments I've ever seen though." Y/n murmurs while Lando smiles and moves over giving her a hug and kissing her forehead. "Alright, lover. I am sort of tired, can we just have a quick shower and go to bed?"

"Yeah, I'm sure you've got plenty of things you need to see tomorrow and I want to make sure Im there to see it all with you."

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steddiealltheway · 6 months

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Happy Halloween everyone!! Here is some type of no upside down AU fic :)

Eddie drums his hands on the cafeteria table and looks around at his friends. "Alright gentlemen, what are we doing for Halloween?"

He instantly gets a sense that something is off when Jeff and Gareth exchange a guilty look. Eddie leans forward and props his chin up on his hand. "Want to share with the class?"

Gareth sighs and looks at the table for a moment before bursting out, "Well, my sister and Jeff's brother really wanted to go out trick-or-treating this year, and you know how they've gotten close. And the deal was that either Jeff and I would stay at our houses manning the candy bowl, or we would go out with the kids."

Eddie huffs out, "And let me guess, you chose free candy, torturous walking, and a cutesy group costume."

Jeff smiles guiltily. "You're looking at Shaggy and Scooby-Doo."

"Adorable," Eddie says with a big fake smile before turning to Frank. "You're not leaving me high and dry though, isn't that right, Frank?"

Only, Frank seems to be just as guilty-looking as the others.

"Frank... Don't do this to me, man," Eddie pleads.

Frank sighs, "I told my mom I would do a Halloween horror movie night with her. Sorry, Eddie."

Eddie looks between all his friends, wondering if they're pulling a prank on him and fulfilling the trick part of trick-or-treat. But he slowly realizes that they're not. "Shit," he whispers, "I guess I needed to book you guys early," Eddie jokes, trying not to feel too let down.

Jeff pats his hand and says, "Hey, you can come with us. We need a bad guy in a mask."

Eddie scrunches up his nose. "Willingly walking miles and dealing with kids on an endless sugar high? No thanks. But... I appreciate the thought." He sits back and picks up a few of his pretzels before dropping them back in the bag. What is he going to do? He has always loved Halloween, his friends know this. But what's the point in celebrating if he's alone?

"You could go to Harrington's infamous ball," Frank suggests. Gareth and Jeff immediately start laughing loudly. Eddie just glares at Frank, but he doesn't seem to be joking as he defends himself, "I'm not kidding! Come on, free beer and witnessing a bunch of shit drama."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, because I would be so welcomed there."

"It's not like people will really notice. I hear his place is jam-packed with random people every year. Plus, you could wear your bat masquerade mask," Jeff interjects.

Eddie sighs and puts his head in his hands. "You're not seriously trying to convince me to go, right?"

"I mean... we're not not trying to convince you," Gareth supplies unhelpfully. There's an oof sound that Eddie's sure is the result of Jeff elbowing him in the side. "But seriously, you can wear the mask so no one will recognize you and your slutty vampire outfit-"

"It's not slutty."

"It has a tight leather lace-up vest, it's a little slutty," Jeff stage whispers to Eddie.

Eddie groans and dramatically thuds his head down on the table before quickly looking up. "Let me get this right. You want me to go to Steve Harrington's Halloween party in a mask as a Cinderella-type vampire because you guys are ditching me?"

"Precisely. Except the part where we ditched you because we clearly invited you-"

"Okay! Okay!" Eddie cuts Jeff off waving his hands.

"And hey, we all know that you would love to get some one-on-one time with Harrington, and what's a better time to do this than undercover?" Jeff asks.

Eddie dramatically shushes him and whispers, "I told you guys that secret while entirely way too high, you cannot hold that information against me right now."

"He's right," Frank says, "You can finally find out if Harrington truly isn't an asshole."

"And see if he has the hots for you while you're wearing your-"

"I swear, Gareth, if you call the costume slutty again..."

"Okay, but are you wearing it with your leather pants?" Jeff asks, eyebrows raised.

Eddie sighs and looks down at his lunchbox. "Maybe," he begrudgingly admits.

"Slutty!" Frank loudly says, and Gareth and Jeff immediately burst out laughing.

Eddie covers his face in his hands before joining in on their laughter. "Maybe it's a little slutty," he admits.

As the boys celebrate their win, Eddie feels someone staring over at him. He glances toward Harrington's table where he's sitting next to his ex and her new boyfriend and finds him staring directly at him. Eddie's heart beats a little harder when Steve slightly smiles at him before redirecting his attention to Jonathan.

"Jesus Christ, he looked at me again," Eddie mutters.

"Dude, you always say this, but we never see him do it," Frank groans.

"Yeah, because you don't obsessively check out his table," Gareth says with a laugh before he suddenly frowns and turns to Eddie. "No offense."

"None taken," Eddie replies as he chews on his bottom lip, thinking deeply. If he goes to the party, he can finally confront his crush on the guy he's never truly interacted with unless you count all the times they catch each other's eye then... they would be interacting somewhat often.

He can also finally figure out if it's all in his head or not.

"Okay. I'm going to the Harrington party," Eddie announces.

"Seriously?" Jeff asks incredulously.

"You guys are just so convincing," Eddie says with his hands over his heart.

"Bullshit," Frank says, "You're just going for a chance to maybe say two words to him."

Eddie crosses his arms and asks, "And what would those two words be?"

"'Slutty vampire' in response to 'What are you dressed as?'" Jeff quickly jokes, earning a shriek of laughter from Gareth and Frank.

Eddie thanks whatever entity is responsible for making the bell ring to announce lunch is over. "I need new friends," Eddie lies as he gathers his stuff up.

As Gareth and Frank rush off, Jeff lays a hand on Eddie's arm and says, "Hey, we can do a Halloween slasher night if you want to this weekend. Also, don't hesitate to call if you need help getting ready or need a second pair of eyes to make sure Harrington will approve."

Eddie gives him a genuine small smile and squeezes his shoulder, "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it," Jeff says as he walks off with a bright smile.

As Eddie watches him walk away, he catches Harrington staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but as soon as he glances over, he looks away looking... angry? Eddie just sighs and shakes his head. He needs to stop thinking that Harrington in any way has thoughts dedicated to him.

Maybe this party will be good for Eddie.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie stares at his reflection in the mirror and twists and turns. Maybe the leather is slutty, but he thinks the plain black cape does well to soften the look a bit. He stares at his hair and all the glossy individually finger-curled strands making his hair look a little more tame than usual. But hell, his arms and fingers ache. He just hopes it's all worth it.

He puts on the bat mask and frowns before taking it off and digging around for his eyeliner pencil he knows he has somewhere in the bathroom. He quickly finds it in a random basket and applies it before smudging it a bit. He puts the mask back on and smiles. He likes the way it has an elegant almost lace-looking quality to the plastic that offsets the leather of his costume.

He wishes he could call Jeff for a final look, but he doesn't want to take any precious time away from him and his brother although they're probably done trick-or-treating by now. Plus, he knows that Jeff would tell him that he looks great and not to overthink it. So, that's exactly what he's going to do.

He grabs the bright orange flyer he found on the floor at school for the Harrington Halloween House Party and cringes at the alliteration. He's pretty sure it's been the same thing for the past three years though, so it's not like Harrington has an option of changing it.

Gosh, he needs to stop stalling and finally leave for the party. He glances at his watch and sees that it's almost eleven, so people should be finally arriving an hour fashionably late. Better to be a part of that crowd to not draw much attention.

He drives over quickly, parking a little down the road when he starts seeing other cars, not wanting to get stuck if he wants to leave early. He takes a deep breath before glancing in the mirror again. He's not recognizable... right? Right.

He gets out of his van and quickly starts walking toward the intimidatingly large house. He's glad to find a group of people rushing inside and even more people outside on the front lawn who aren't sparing him a second glance. Usually, he would come to one of these things with his infamous lunchbox and upsell his stash, but he knew it would give him away tonight. Plus, it's nice to not be on edge the whole time, wondering who is approaching him for drugs and who is approaching him with a slur.

As he makes his way inside, he grimaces at the loud pop music people are wildly dancing to and the smell of alcohol that permeates the house. It's only a few minutes before someone is shoving a cup of mysteriously bright red liquid in Eddie's hand. He takes a tentative sip and shrugs. It's not horrible especially since Eddie likes terribly sweet things, but he definitely isn't going to waste time getting a second cup.

He's on a mission. And his mission is to find Steve and hope that he's not somewhere with his tongue down some random girl's throat. Eddie tries to shove away the thoughts telling him that he shouldn't expect Steve Harrington to not be doing exactly that at his party. Plus, why would he spare time to talk to Eddie of all people?

Eddie takes another sip of his drink and makes his way through the crowd, not finding a single glimpse of that Harrington mane that's usually easy to spot. He goes outside the backdoor and frowns at all the people making out in the pool before heading back inside.

He glances around a few more times before settling back in a corner, downing the rest of his drink before giving up on his search and settling on people watching. But god it’s boring.

These people are boring.

It’s just the same situation over and over again. A couple getting uncomfortably handsy with each other, or a guy and girl eyeing each other up across the room as their friends hype them up in a way that’s either grotesque or filled with squeals.

And the room is hot. So unbearably hot that his leather pants are starting to cling to Eddie in an uncomfortable way that makes him want to rip them off.

Instead, he settles on climbing the stairs and going to find whatever bathroom he can to splash some cold water in his face and hopefully get a moment to himself.

He looks at all the closed doors, pressing his ear against them before quickly backing away whenever he hears something gross. But then his ear settles on one door and there’s the distinct sound of nothing on the other side that puts him at ease.

He twists the knob and walks into the room, freezing when he realizes that, one, this is not a bathroom, and, two, someone with Steve Harrington's distinctive hair swoop is sitting in the room.

The man turns and makes eye contact with Eddie who instantly dies a little inside as he realizes it is Steve. "Sorry. I didn't mean to barge in."

Steve gives him a small smile and says, "I don't mind."

Eddie doesn't know what to do other than hover in the doorway of the dark room. Steve continues to stare at him and eventually asks, "Want to join me?"

Yes. Hell yes, he does. But also, Eddie has the distinct feeling that this either has to be a dream or a prank. But he still nods.

"Do you mind locking the door behind you? I just... don't want anyone trying to use this room as a place to hook up or something."

Now this definitely sets off a few alarms in Eddie's head, but there's a weird air of sadness surrounding Steve that makes it seem... genuine. So Eddie closes the door and locks it behind him, slowly making his way over to Steve. As he gets closer, some of the light trailing in through his blinds catches on the glittering crown that he's holding in his hands.

Eddie gestures toward it. "King Steve?"

Steve smiles sadly and looks down at the crown. "Something like that."

Eddie carefully sits next to Steve, trying to keep a respectable distance between them on the bed. His eyes trace over Steve's costume, a clearly expensive, gorgeous prince or king costume. "So, what are you supposed to be?"

"Prince Charming," Steve answers easily. He glances over at Eddie and shrugs. "Nancy thought that it would be funny because of my 'Harrington charm' mixed with King Steve, but I don't know. I kind of hate that nickname." He shakes his head and changes the subject. "What are you supposed to be?"

"Slutty vampire," Eddie says almost automatically, startling a laugh out of Steve as Eddie curses under his breath and puts his hands over his face. As his fingers press into the mask on his face, he's startled by the realization that Steve doesn't know who he is. "Sorry, my friends kept saying that, and I insisted it wasn't what I was going for. But they won that argument in the end I guess." God, he can't believe he actually said that.

"You look maybe a little slutty but in a good way," Steve rushes to say the last part. He runs a hand through his hair, getting a bit flustered. "I mean you look nice."

"So do you," Eddie admits honestly.

Steve holds his hand out to him. "Steve."

Eddie takes his hand and says, "Cinderella."

Steve laughs again. "Really?"

"I got the mask and everything," Eddie explains, not yet wanting to ruin things when Steve finds out who he really is.

"Cinderella then," Steve says with a smile that makes Eddie feel a little weak in the knees. Thank god he's sitting down.

"So, what are you doing in here in the dark all by yourself, Prince Charming?"

"I'm not by myself, I'm with you," Steve easily deflects.

Eddie raises his eyebrows although he's pretty sure the mask partially covers them.

Steve looks down at the crown again and raises it up. "I just wanted to not be this for a little bit tonight. Plus, the music was giving me a headache - too many concussions." He pauses before turning to Eddie. "And what were you doing escaping from things?"

"Looking for some quiet," Eddie says and looks down at his unnaturally bare hands. He wishes he would've kept on his rings so he could fidget with them. "I was thinking about leaving, but I wanted to stay in case I found you."

Steve shifts a little on the bed, moving to face him. "And now that you've found me?"

Eddie glances up at him and considers it for a moment. "I hadn't really thought that far."

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "Well, I hope I'm not too disappointing."

"Not at all," Eddie insists, "Actually I thought you'd be-"

"An asshole?" Steve interjects quickly, his expression becoming oddly stoic.

Eddie shakes his head. "Preoccupied with someone else. Anyone other than me really."

Steve face softens and he leans in closer, eyes tracing over Eddie's face as if trying to figure out what's under the mask covering most of the upper half of his face. "You know you can tell me your real name, right?"

Eddie swallows and shakes his head. "Maybe I'll just leave a clue behind or something. Not my shoe though. I always hated that plot line."

Steve smiles brightly. "If it fit perfectly then why did it fall off?"

"Exactly!" Eddie says clapping his hands together excitedly. "Plus, with all that dancing, I just know that shoe did not smell good."

Steve throws his head back and laughs, and Eddie just watches him, filled with pride at being able to pull that reaction out of him. As his laughter dies down, Steve glances back down at the crown.

"You should put it on," Eddie blurts out. Steve looks up at him with his eyebrows raised. "I want to see the whole costume."

Steve reluctantly places the crown on his head and glances toward Eddie. It's strange, how it fits him so perfectly at first glance, but he can see how it personally affects Steve, as if it adds a weight to his entire demeanor.

"You look good, but I think I prefer you without," Eddie admits.

Steve quickly takes it off his head and places it behind him. "Yeah, that's because it messes up my best feature."

"That's strange, I didn't see it mess with your eyes, or your smile, or your nose, or your-"

Eddie's suddenly cut off when Steve leans in and kisses him. He just as quickly pulls away and says, "Sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've asked before I just-"

"Steve," Eddie says, laying a hand over Steve's.

Steve looks up at him nervously.

"Please do that again," Eddie says.

Steve sighs in relief and instantly closes the distance between them again, but Eddie is able to prepare for it, properly cupping his face and kissing him back. He feels like he's in a dream again as Steve deepens the kiss and runs his hands through the curls Eddie took so long to perfect. But he doesn't care at all.

There's a sudden loud ringing of a grandfather clock that pierces through the house causing the two of them to jump apart. "Jesus, I forgot that I told them they could play that creepy recording at midnight," Steve says and freezes. "Wait, it's midnight."

"And?"

"You're Cinderella."

Eddie tries to swallow down the pain of once again realizing that to Steve, he's just some random guy that he doesn't know. But Eddie smiles and says, "Well, lucky for you, the magic doesn't run out until one or two in the morning."

Steve smiles back and says, "Lucky me." But instead of kissing Eddie, he surprises him by asking, "Tell me something about yourself."

Eddie shrugs, trying to think of something that won't give him away. "I play the guitar."

"Oh, is that why you wear the..." Steve trails off, eyes flickering down to his neck before looking away. "Forget I said that. I thought I saw something."

Eddie's brows furrow, but he doesn't press him on it. "What about you? Tell me something most people don't know."

Steve thinks for a moment before smiling. "I almost didn't show up to this tonight. I was going to go trick-or-treating with some of the kids I sort of babysit. But Dustin told me they didn't need a babysitter tonight, so I ended up here."

The story twists at Eddie's heart a bit. Even with his disillusioned crush on Steve, he would've never guessed there was a group of kids he cared for so much.

Eddie reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Steve's. "I'm sure they miss you."

"I don't know. They were going in custom-made costumes for these characters they play as in D and D or something. They seemed really excited about it, so they've probably forgotten about me by now."

Eddie swallows down the entire spiel he wants to make about Hellfire Club and asking who the kids are so he might be able to recruit them and instead says, "Well, you're pretty unforgettable."

Steve smiles and opens his mouth to respond when there's a sudden loud knock on the door. Steve frowns and loudly says, "Occupied!"

A voice on the other side of the door loudly says, "I think your neighbors down the way ratted us out! Someone said the police are on their way."

"Shit," Steve mutters and runs his hands over his face. "I'll be right there! Just get rid of all the alcohol you can find and turn off the music. Party is over." He stands up and turns to Eddie offering his hand which Eddie takes.

They both stand up and Eddie realizes he's never stood directly next to him and is surprised that they seem to be the same height. God, it's so nice to be at eye level with him.

"I guess this is goodbye, Cinderella," Steve says sadly and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. "Will you leave me with at least a kiss?"

"You're too charming to say no to," Eddie jokes before he leans in and kisses Steve again, lingering in the kiss for as long as he can before they both pull away as there's another loud knock on the door.

Steve squeezes Eddie's shoulder one last time and says, "I promise to find you." He rushes out the door quickly after and Eddie is left standing in Steve's room alone. He takes a deep breath before he leaves slowly, distancing the time they were seen with each other.

Luckily, things are in a bit of a frenzy as he leaves so he doubts anyone noticed him slipping out of the same room as Steve. But on his drive home, Eddie realizes he gave Steve absolutely nothing to identify him with. He curses and debates turning back until he sees Hopper's police car pass him.

Steve's never going to find him.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The entire weekend, Eddie's friends have the pleasure of hearing him share the story over and over again while simultaneously complaining about not leaving something equivalent to a shoe behind.

"Well, it sounds like you at least left him with a lot of your saliva," Gareth says one time, and Eddie has to get Jeff to hold him back.

Monday morning is the worst when he realizes he has to see Steve and pretend like nothing happened. Because there's no way he's going to tell Steve that he's Cinderella and expect him to not punch him in the face.

Okay, Steve doesn't seem the type to do that, but there's no way he would be excited to hear that Eddie's the guy he swapped spit with - god, he really needs to get Gareth's words out of his head. But Eddie thinks he'll be able to deal with Steve never knowing than Steve rejecting him.

He sees Steve here and there in the hall but is luckily able to divert his path so Steve never directly sees him. Unfortunately, Eddie knows Steve will be at the same table as always at lunch which is right in his line of sight.

When he sits down, his friends are already nudging him and cracking jokes about Prince Charming and whatnot that pisses Eddie off. It makes things worse when he sees Steve sitting with his back to him, which he's never done before. At one point, Eddie just snaps, gets up, and leaves the cafeteria saying he needs a minute. He rushes off to his locker, digging around for his spare pack of cigarettes when he hears a pair of footsteps to his left.

He sighs and closes the locker door, expecting to see a teacher who has followed him, expecting him to do something suspicious. Instead, he gets the shock of his life when he sees Steve walking right up to him.

As Steve approaches, Eddie dumbly says, "Are you looking to buy something?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "No, I'm not, Cinderella."

Eddie's eyes widen. There's no way...

"Did you really think I didn't know who you were?" Steve asks, and Eddie can't get a read on him, but he seems... upset.

"I'm sorry?"

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair again. “Eddie, I know it was you, and I want to know why you've been avoiding me all day. Like did it really mean nothing to you? Is that why you didn't tell me your name?"

Eddie's head spins a little too fast at the revelation, so he clarifies, "Wait, you knew it was me the whole time?"

"Yes. I thought you were just really pretending to be in character or something, but today you were icing me out. And I know we haven't really talked before Friday night, but I thought I was clear about wanting to change that."

"Then why did you face with your back toward me in the cafeteria?" Eddie blurts out without thinking.

"There was something on my chair," Steve answers easily.

"Oh." Okay, maybe Eddie is an idiot but, "Wait, you really knew who I was and still, "he lowers his voice and leans in, "...kissed me?"

A look of realization crosses over Steve's face before he smiles. "Eddie, I've been staring at you for weeks now, and I just hadn't gotten the courage to talk to you yet. You're pretty intimidating."

"Me? I'm intimidating? You're literally called 'King Steve.'" Steve frowns at the title, but Eddie continues, "I never thought I had a shot with you without the mask on - or even with the mask on. I was avoiding you today because I didn't want you to realize it was me and reject me."

"I thought you called yourself Cinderella because I was dressed as Prince Charming," Steve laughs.

"I didn't even realize that was Cinderella's prince!" Eddie nearly shrieks, laughing loudly along with Steve. "We're a disaster," he says through his laughter.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to kill his laughter a little to say, "I think we should start over a little and go on a date. This time without fake names and the police showing up."

"No promises about the second one," Eddie says with a big smile.

Steve smiles and looks at him as if waiting for something.

"What?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs anxiously. "Is that a yes to the date?"

"Oh! Christ. Yes! Yes, it is. Sorry," Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face, noting the way his hands don't catch on a mask this time. Steve Harrington is fine with him being Cinderella - more than fine with it really. He narrows his eyes at Steve. "And this isn't a trick?"

"I thought it would be more of a treat," Steve jokes.

Eddie rolls his eyes and simultaneously laughs at the horrible pun. "Did you know that you're really charming?"

Another laugh is startled out of Steve who quickly tries to hide it. He looks down at the ground and says, "I'm having a hard time thinking of a joke about a slutty vampire."

Eddie groans, "Don't remind me."

"I wouldn't mind if you reminded me," Steve flirts.

"Christ," Eddie says, feeling a blush quickly rise on his cheeks.

The bell for lunch rings again, and this time Eddie wants to curse the entity responsible for it.

"I'll slip you my number later so you can call me later, Cinderella" Steve announces, walking back to the cafeteria where he left his stuff.

"I'm charmed," Eddie replies with a wink that has Steve getting slightly flustered.

As he rounds the corner and gets out of sight, Eddie can't help but think about how Steve really kept his promise about finding him. He also can't wait to have proof that all his friends were wrong, except maybe he was a little bit of a slutty vampire... But it definitely paid off.

And it definitely was a very happy Halloween.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #happy halloween

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seventeenpins · 9 months

Note

Can we perhaps have something where stepdad Joel makes reader squirt-😗

alskdfjal yes of course this is so perfect :))) thank u for the prompt 💕

practice makes perfect

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: follow-up to bad girl. your mom decides to go out one night, leaving you and your stepdad at home alone together. feeling hurt and petty in response to his wife's cheating, he has no qualms with fucking you in your mom's bedroom. you make a mess.

warnings: okay lets go, a lot of fucking (so much fucking), stepcest, infidelity, oral sex (mentioned), unsafe piv, SQUIRTING, dirty talk, fingering, daddy kink, age difference (reader is late 20s, joel is mid-40s), a bit of dom/sub vibes, multiple orgasms, creampie -- let me know if i missed anything?

a/n: i am so completely blown away by the response to my first stepdad!joel fic -- thank you all so much for the comments and reblogs and messages, i fuckin cherish them all. as always, pls feel free to reach out. i hope you enjoy this instalment!

for the first week after joel walked in on you, you were half convinced your entire experience with him had been a fever dream. you hadn't seen all that much of him on account of a big project he's been grumbling about, something about a delayed material delivery that pushed him closer to a deadline than he'd prefer. you were busy yourself, too, going out with friends and spending long hours on some of your freelance work.

there were moments, though, that you'd catch one another and there'd be a glint of something in his eye.

one night, you, your mom, and joel are all sat at the table for a family dinner. your mom has drained her wine glass twice already, and is reaching for the bottle again as she tells you both, "i'm afraid i can't stay for long tonight, i just got a text from vera. sounds like she's having a bad night and needs a friend."

joel makes a sound like a snort that he follows up with a cough. "poor vera," he says, "she's been havin' an awful rough time lately, hasn't she? it's like she's inconsolable every other day."

"yes," your mom says, "she has been going through so much."

joel stares at her for a moment and you almost expect him to challenge her on it, but then he lets out a breath and smiles.

"you're such a good friend, baby," he tells her and she grins before turning back to her glass of wine and taking a big gulp. joel fixes you with a knowing stare and smirks. you both know she's not going to vera's.

after she finishes picking at her plate, she announces that she needs to get ready and dips out of the room.

"so, vera, huh?" you ask and joel snorts.

"can't believe your momma forgot she made me follow that woman on instagram months ago. according to her recent posts, she's currently travelling through iceland."

you roll your eyes and laugh, "seriously?" you ask, and joel nods.

"you'd think she'd be a better liar by this point," you say, and joel smiles but winces a little too.

it's not a game. you know it's not a game. just because you're used to your mother's antics doesn't mean it isn't new to joel, and he's only known for certain for a week that she's been unfaithful to him and that's gotta hurt. despite whatever's going on between you two, you know joel's heart is aching.

you're pretty sure you've just poured salt in the wound.

"i'm sorry, joel," you say, suddenly embarrassed, "i didn't mean to- i don't know. i didn't mean to make fun of it. i know you're dealing with... a lot."

joel shrugs and relaxes, "ah, it's alright sweetheart. just something i need to deal with. but you've done nothing wrong."

"okay," you say, and it's only then that you realise how close you've been leaning towards one another. at the sound of your mother's heels on the stairs, joel clears his throat and the two of you put more distance between yourselves.

your mother's voice carries down the hallway. "will you two be alright without me? i know you haven't had a chance to spend much time together."

"i'm sure we'll manage." you say, and joel smirks.

"she's a real good girl," he says, "'m lovin these opportunities to get to know her better."

"i'm glad to hear it," your mom says, and smiles between the two of you as you do your best not to choke.

"ya look great, baby," joel says, eyebrows raised as he looks your mom up and down. "cute dress. that makeup's gonna get ruined with your face masks, though, huh?"

she blushes and waves him off, "you know i like to get all get dolled up for my girls night," she says, "i can wipe the makeup off later."

"i'm sure you will," he says, and though you can hear the edge to it, you don't think your mom can. he presses a kiss to her cheek.

"i might be home late," she tells you both, "don't wait up!"

"no worries, baby," joel says, "in fact, if vera's having such a hard time, maybe you should make it a sleepover"

your mom grins and it's dazzling and heartbreaking. it's moments like this that you can see exactly why so many men have fallen in love with her. "that's a great idea, honey," she says, "i think i'll do just that! i'll see you both in the morning."

with a swish of her hair, your mom has left through the front door. joel groans, folding forward and resting his head in his hands, letting out a low "fucking jesus" before he sits back and composes himself. he lets out a deep sigh and then turns to look at you and shakes his head, closing his eyes, resigned.

you're not sure what's appropriate. you nearly reach out to deliver a comforting pat to his hand, but change your mind at the last moment, instead batting your hand out like a cat's paw and then recoiling.

joel's eyes weren't, apparently, closed. he sees your indecisive gesture, frowns, and gives you a look, before laughing. "you're okay, sweetheart," he says, his voice still tinged with the rumble of laughter, "it's all a lot to deal with. but i'm managing. and guess what?"

"what?" you ask.

"we've got a whole night to ourselves. just the two of us."

"oh yeah?" you ask, and you suddenly feel hot all over. joel's staring at you with such a darkness in his eyes that you're certain you're already wet.

"'f that's something you'd like, that is." joel smiles and it's almost unexpected the way he checks in with you, that he still has the capacity to focus on your needs. in his position, you might just be out to take what you could get, wholly and selfishly.

he's so... considerate. fuck he turns you on.

"i've got an idea," you say, and you take him by the hand and lead him upstairs.

you can feel his body stiffen when you stand in the doorway to your mother's bedroom. "you want me to fuck you in here?" he asks, and you can't parse his tone.

you're worried that you've gone too far, that despite the filthy way he fucked you only a few days ago, you've hit a barrier you should never have crossed, but you nod. before you can ask is it too much? he's growling "yes" and dragging you into the room.

he pulls you into a kiss, frenzied and feral, his teeth biting at you, nipping at your lips and cheeks, laving kisses down your throat. before you know it, you're both fully naked, clothes littered all over the floor of the room and joel's teeth are gently biting down on one of your nipples as he rocks his hips against yours.

"are you gonna let me take care of you? gonna let daddy take care of you?" he asks, "use your words."

"yes, daddy," you tell him.

"ya know," he tells you, running a hand down your sternum and resting between your breasts, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing, "there have been a few times i've gotten home late these past few days, and when i walked past your bedroom door i could swear i heard the sweetest little moans."

you blush and look away from him.

"uh-uh," he says, tipping your chin up, making you look at him, "were you thinkin' bout me?"

you nod. "yes daddy" it's the truth, after all.

"good girl," he smiles, "thank you for being honest with me. now i already know you're a dirty girl, what with all your naughty videos. and i know you're a fuckin' slut the way you spread your legs so easily for me."

"yes daddy," you echo.

"but what i don't know," he says, and his voice is velvet and dangerous, his pupils blown with hunger, "is just how many surfaces in this room i can bend you over and fuck you till you're so cock drunk you can't speak."

your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops.

"i ain't even started with you, honey," he smiles, and he drops to his knees.

it's a fucking marathon.

he eats you out at the foot of your mothers bed till you're panting, his lips glistening with your slick and he makes you feel so good you're certain you're gonna die.

then, your positions are reversed, joel trying his best to plant his feet into the carpet so he doesn't melt off the bed altogether, while you kneel before him. he fucks up into your throat, delighting in every vibration your moans and swallows provide.

soon, you're pressed up against the dresser, your fingers gripping onto the drawer handles as he fucks into your pussy from behind.

then against the bookshelf. the closet doors. there's a moment where joel gets closer than he'd like to coming and he has you grab onto the floor lamp as he eats your pussy again on bended knee, only this time you're standing up and trying your best not to crumple onto him when he makes you come a fourth and a fifth time.

you're starting to get overstimulated. no, you are overstimulated, but it's in the most oddly delicious way. joel has you folded over the foot of your mom's bed, your knees on an ottoman, the rest of you pressed against the mattress, fists groping at sheets, holding on for dear life.

it's a good angle, hell, it's the perfect angle. not only does it feel incredible, it helps prop your ass up to a height that allows joel's huge cock to fuck you deeper without too much more effort, gripping your hips as he pounds into you. the best part, though, is that you're both at the perfect angle to see yourselves in the full length mirror.

"jesus christ, baby," joel is saying, "you see how deep i am? feel how deep i am? pussy's so tight around this cock. can almost feel myself in here," he says, and presses two fingers against your tummy.

you moan, using every ounce of strength you have left to keep your ass in the air and take joel's cock so nicely.

"it feels so good, daddy," you sob, "it's so big, making me come so many times. fuck, i can feel it building- it feels so good, you make me feel so good-"

"yes, baby," he growls, "let go for me, let me feel you come stretched so pretty 'round daddy's dick."

"fuck, daddy," you whine, because you realise it's a different sensation that's been building and even though you know what it is, you've never quite reached an orgasm like this before. "i'm gonna come, daddy! i'm gonna fuckin come-"

"shit, baby," he says as he starts to feel hot wet spurts of liquid splashing out of you, "oh fuck, you gonna wet my cock with your cum?"

you're screaming now, so fucked out and overstimulated

"oh, shit honey, yes-" joel shouts, a man possessed, as he pulls his cock out from you and rubs furiously at your clit, moaning loudly as you gush all over his hand. "oh, i'm gonna need more of that," he groans, and you can't find words to argue. he fucks back into you, hitting that same spot, finding that same pressure.

"could fuckin drink this, baby," he says, "comin' all over my cock like the fuckin whore you are. look at us, baby, look in the mirror and don't you dare close your fucking eyes."

you obey. it's a struggle to get your eyes to even focus, but when you do, you're sent over the edge again and again and again.

the two of you look so fucking good, the jiggle of your ass, the angles of your bodies and the way you slot together, the tan of joel's arms, his muscles, his control, the silver of his hair.

his breathless mantra "good girl, good girl, fuckin' take it, such a good girl-," as you take everything he gives you and more.

he finds a rhythm for fucking every last drop out of you. he'll give you a few harsh, deep thrusts and then pull out and rub your pussy till you aren't gushing around him anymore. then he'll slap your pussy with the head of his cock, making you shudder before he stuffs it back in and builds you up again.

your thighs are drenched and the wetness down your legs is cooling. you've lost count of the number of times he's made you come like this, but finally, you're shaking so hard you can't bear it and his thrusts are getting staggered.

he's breathless when he manages to ask, "you want me to fill up this lil pussy? fill it full of daddy's cum?"

"yes, yes, yeesss-" you beg, and you watch your reflection as joel's hips stutter a final time and he lets out a strangled groan as he loses control and fucks his release into you.

the second after he comes, he collapses onto you but you're so weak and fuck-drunk you collapse, too. joel rolls off of you so you can breathe, but then both of you are laughing. you're disgusting, covered in sweat and spit and squirt and cum, but joel dips a finger into your pussy and then licks up the combination of juices.

seeing your awed expression, joel shrugs and then smiles, a little embarrassed. "just needed to taste ya like this," he says, and it's incredibly endearing.

after a few more minutes of laying around in messy, sticky comfort, joel gets up. and then- "shit".

"what's wrong?" you ask as you look up at him and he's- laughing?

you look down at what he's looking at -- the ottoman. you've drenched it entirely. it's at least three shades darker than it was to begin with, and reeks of sex.

"well," you say, "that's not ideal."

"guess i'll have to buy your momma a new one," he says, rubbing against his temples and barking out a short laugh. then he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, and one to your forehead.

"you go have a shower," he tells you, "i'll take care of this mess, and then let's get some snacks," he winks, and you smile.

he starts to back out of the room when you call to him, "so, mom's gonna be gone all night-" you start to say, tentative.

"you already askin' for round two?" he asks, incredulous.

"if we're calling all of that-" you gesture around the room, "round one? then yeah. i'm asking for round two."

"dirty girl," he laughs, "you're fuckin insatiable!"

"that's not a no-" you point out.

"no, it's not a no," he says. "let's refuel. rehydrate. and get right back to it."

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x f!reader

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gildedkrone · 7 months

Text

I'm the boy next door, let me come in🔞

Part 2 to this fic

Relationships: Ghost x verse!Male Reader Synopsis: You meet him years later and he still can't forget you. Master List

Simon doesn't text back anymore. You aren't so much surprised as disappointed to know it would end this way. He has a wife to go home to, and your next client wouldn't wait for you to get over the very one-sided heartbreak.

The chat ended on a single message from Simon.

["Take care, luv. Hope this helps you with your dream."]

A transfer of ten thousand pounds into your bank account. You don't want to know how he acquired said information, given he is a military man, you wouldn't put it pass him to have used his clearence to search you up. Would it have killed him to do it in person? No. But anything, is better than nothing from a man you should have never gotten attached to.

It's a bittersweet end and the end of your "relationship" with the man.

---

A cigarette between his lips and his moment of peace was interrupted by his secretary entering his office after two knocks.

"Mr Riley, you have an upcoming meeting at two with the Mr Decartes, should I arrange for him to wait in the conference room?"

He flicks two fingers (yes) and snuffs out the cigarette. The Riley family always had a name in the military business, and the newly retired lieutenant returned home to Manchester to hold the reins to his family empire. Post military life is mundane, he supposed. There's no threat of being knived or shot when out bumbling about the streets of the city and most people give him a wide berth of space, if nothing but fear of his size. The skull mask is gone, replaced by a simple black mask concealing the bottom part of his face.

---

The train to Edinburgh is packed to the brim and per his request, the entire business coach is booked out to give him some semblance of privacy. The online meeting is rotting his brain with the incessant business partners and their multitude of requests. Eventually, the meeting ends not before the train is slowing to stop.

"Dear ladies and gentlemen, due to a railway signalling fault, we are unable to proceed to Edinburgh and the train will be stopping at Carlisle. Please speak to a train attendant if you have questions about transfers and continuing your journey."

Fuckin' hell and now even the train is conspiring against him. The attendant is apologetic and informs him of his choices. Return to Manchester on the train in three hours or wait for an unspecified time for the next train to Edinburgh. Either way, he isn't reaching his destination within the same day.

---

He has hours to burn, and he begins with getting coffee. Carlisle isn't a big city and he spends some time walking about the place and looking at things. Whatever British people did for fun. His mindless walk brings him to a flower shop and before his mind could object, he was pushing past the doors and the sweet chime into the cool and empty shop. There is nobody at the counter and he rings the bell.

"Coming!"

Sounds of shuffling as a man returns from the rear of the shop and you stop behind the counter.

"Hey, is there anything I can do for you?" You flash him a smile and he is taken back by the sight. It's the man he's had a fling with five years ago but there is no recognition in your eyes. Was it the mask?

"I'm looking for something for a business deal."

"Oh, do you know what arrangement you would like?" He looks confused and you continue. "We can make it in different sizes and shapes if you have any in mind?"

"Not really. Do you have pictures?"

"Sure do." You grab the folder of pictures and flipped to the business section. When you looked up, the man has an unfathomable look on his face. He takes his time reviewing through the photos and asks several questions about the shop. How did it come to be etc. You tell him about the ten thousand dollars a man left for you once and he knows, confirms it is you.

"So I moved from London up north here to settle down and open my shop. Business is doing well and I've just received a giant order for a wedding. Might need to hire some people to help me out there."

He doesn't know what his traitorous mind was on when he mouth blurts out how willing he is to help. He is dressed in some formal attire and clearly not a contract worker but he is insistent, so you relent and tell him to meet you after dinner. Especially knowing how difficult and costly it is to hire rush work.

---

Edinburgh is the last thing on his mind when he shows up to your shop at eight in the evening. He opted for a large hoodie and some sweats and you usher him into the back of the store where the greenhouse is. His mask is still on and the hoodie is drawn over his head and you crack a joke about dressing correctly since it's cold in the greenhouse.

You make the first of many bouqets and he examines the shape and quantity of flowers in it. The silence is amiable and the man is a fast worker. Precise and controlled, his first bouqet is beautiful and well made. You disappeared into greenhouse to get more flowers and he follows you back in. Midway through the gathering of some flowers and he speaks.

"You don't remember me."

You give him a puzzled look and set the flowers back down. Did you know him?

He sighs and pulls back his hoodie and removes the mask on his face. It's him. It's Simon.

---

"What are you doing here, Simon?"

He sips his coffee and the both of you are seated behind the counter.

"The train broke down and 'm was exploring the city. Stumbled upon your shop and …"

"Are you no longer in the military?"

"Left the job. Had to go home and run the business."

He is still an absolute looker even five years later and his fingers gently brush against yours where it stays.

"Simon, your wife--"

"We're divorced. She's no longer my wife." He elaborates something along the lines of a falling out between the two families over business.

"Oh."

His hands are rough and calloused, and they hold yours.

"It wasn't a possibility then, but … I--"

"Simon, we can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Did you really love me? We had a fling, not a real relationship. I am past the age of flings and I want a real relationship."

"I can give yer that. Only if you would let me."

"Si--" And the rest of the sentence was stolen by his lips against yours. He is insistent and all of the walls you imagined comes crashing down at the taste of him and the hand on your thigh.

"Luv, fuck, missed yer fuckin' lips." And your moan is breathy as his touch crept up your thighs.

---

You weren't sure how it happened, but the kiss ends with you and him in the greenhouse and his hands in your pants. He is pleasure incarnate and his hands move with an urgency to feel you. They roam across expanses of skin before digging into flesh and unbuttoning your jeans. Your mind is drunk on the pleasure and your dick is aching to be touched, with the way it bobs up and down.

The touches are something clandestine, and you used to be his illicit affairs. Now, you are his partner? Lover? The definition is irrelevant as he turns you around to face him before pushing you into the wall. His dick is freed from his joggers where they tented the garment obscenely and he hands rest at your hips.

"If yer asking how serious I am, 'm fuckin' serious about this." The whispers of past encounters are strong and he gives your dick a few strokes before he hugs you tight and your dick pokes against his ass.

"Fuck, Simon, you sure about this?" His response is a sloppy kiss and a muffled yes.

"Have you done this--"

"Nobody. There's nobody after you." Fuck, if that doesn't send your desires higher to know he saved himself for you all these years.

You finger him gently to loosen his rear and gently slide into him until he is moaning and spasming around your dick. He is impatient and tugs your hand but you refuse to fully bottom out, knowing this is likely foreign to him and unwilling to hurt him. Tight, warm heat hungrily swallows your length and you fight off the urge to slam your hips into him—to show him who controls his pleasure. Gruff and gravelly moans get louder with each thrust and with eyes lidded in pleasure, he takes dick so beautifully and you reward him with kisses and bites to his neck. He chokes at the feeling of skin breaking when you leave a hickey. The sudden imagery of domming him and making him beg to cum is fire in your veins and you slow your thrusts.

"C'mon, fuck, yer heathen, stop teasin'." He gets another kiss and he whines.

The great Simon whining like a pup and trying to get himself off on your dick after years of abstinence is making your head all muddy. His hips squirm and he grumbles when you pull out of him only to turn him around to face the wall. The smack of his hands against the wall is loud when you enter him without warning and he is practically clawing at the walls to remain standing under the onslaught of pleasure.

"Fuck, not gonna last if you keep doin' this," and true to his word, his greedy hole tightens around you as he tipped his head back into a moan. Your hand guides him through his orgasm as the wall is coated with pent up ball batter and you are finishing in him with a whine and whimper.

He felt as divine as ever, even when he is below you and twitching from the aftershocks of an orgasm. Mercifully, he doesn't fight your attempts to clean him up even if a clench of his core meant more of your cum is dripping down his thighs. Your dick jumps at the creamy sight but Simon is fully sated and you are content to wait.

Here in the shop, everything feels right. Hearts aligned in a bow drawn taut towards love are yours and his.

---

"Simon, the dog is fighting the mailman again."

"Fuckin', luvvie, its your decision to get a dog."

"You didn't say no when we were at the shelter."

He groans when you shift on his lap while keeping him warm and cozy as the dick in your ass pokes against your prostate. Pre spills from your dick and he swipes a finger through the milky substance for a taste.

"This is, all your damn fault," you choke out between pants when his dick juts into further into you.

"Can't blame a man for wantin' more, sweetheart. Now sing for me," and those hips are determined to be the death of you. Ah, the joy of pleasure and to die from it, you think you could die happy in the lap of your man.

Raspy growls and a man possessed to chase and seek pleasure after years of draught is a dangerous combination. Your head rests against his shoulder amdist thrusts jostling your body.

"Fuck it, he can deal with that damned dog while I make you cum, darling."

#fanfic #cod mw2 #male reader #x male reader #x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x male reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x male reader #ghost fanfiction #cod x male reader

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drdemonprince · 6 days

Note

The article regarding about annoying queer people sparked a by now long forgotten memory.

When I went to my first pride I snuck out secretly and thus was there after the parade. Most people were already some form of drunk or high(didn't know that at the time, I was 15 and naive beyond hope)

That was also the first time I saw puppies ever. In retrospect I must have stared and seemed like one of those annoying "no kink at pride" puriteens. They probably just wanted to allow themselves a small joke but what happened in praxis was, that a grown, white man in only puppy mask and boxers crawled up to me, stood up, started sniffing my breasts and when I started panicking and running away he run after me and everyone else watched and laughed. I think I screamed for help or cryed to please leave me be and was ignored but I can't remember much past the fear.

To them it was probably a small joke but to me it set me back for years. I didn't go to pride in that city ever again and took years to move past "no kink at pride" opinions, an opinion I didn't even have before that.

I felt incredibly isolated and wearing a small rainbow bracelet and cutting my hair took so much bravery. And it earned a lot of backlash too?

So often I see coloured hair and pins as this cutesy cringe thing of no consequence, but for me it resulted in hours upon of arguments and insults. It was worth it, because it helped me built my own identity apart from my families bigotry, but it sure wasn't fun or cutesy. Ultimately it led me to becoming brave enough to actually discover who I am and start making connections with the wider queer community.

Thankfully I had no social media accounts or I would have had some truly stupid arguments.

What I'm saying is, yes young queers can be annoying and it can be tiring to deal with them but being an asshole and vilifying them isn't the solution.

Making fun of teenagers doesn't make yourself more valid and doesn't give you the status of being an old experienced queer.

I'm saying teenagers here but the fun thing about queer people is that we can discover ourselves at any point in time. So it's less teenagers and more people newly discovering themselves as queer.

I get how annoying they can be very well now, doing voluntary work at pride does that.

Do many of those we consider annoying queers hold some harmful opinions? Yeah sure. (The amount of white queers, teens or adults, not dealing with systemic oppression beyond their own is staggering and they more than deserve to be called out. Just to be very clear, when I talk about annoying behaviour I do NOT mean microagressions or discrimination in any way)

But annoying behaviour is not synonymous to that and maybe we should all just start being less mean in public spaces? I get how satisfying it can be to get a hit tweet via a bitchy twitter reply now, but quite honestly I am more ashamed of that now than when I was running around in hoodies and short hair being painfully naive.

Because then I wasn't being mean to anyone. I had some stupid takes sure but no outlet. On twitter I was making fun of people to validate my own queer-ness. (Personally I think I was covering up for the fact that I was afraid the queer people I worked so hard to be part of wouldn't consider me one of their own. So I worked hard to show how I'm not one of "those queers".)

Either way, thanks for reading all this and thank you for sharing the article because it is something I strongly agree with. Just let people be annoying without making fun of them for it. It doesn't need to be a big deal.

Thank you for this wonderful, vulnerable, honest message about your slow path to self-acceptance in the face of a lot of barriers, anon. I'm glad that despite everything you've found your way.

Yeah, I think queer people have many reasons to feel terrified at the rising "no kink at pride" discourse, but sometimes when we lash out at puriteens we sound a bit like the childfree people who say that they hate kids?? Like, we're blaming literal children for an ideology of protecting "The Family" that has been foisted upon us.

I'm guilty of it. I was HAUNTED by the social pressure to get married and pregnant and raise a bunch of kids. It caused me massive dysphoria and didn't jibe with my queer identity. But I rebelled against it for far too long by saying that I hated kids.

It was not the kids' fault! It was the ideological specter of The Family as an institution that isolates and attacks all nonconformity and 'deviant' sexuality! Me being an asshole to children was not gonna set me free, kids were even more disinfranchised than I was!! I don't think I was ever overtly cruel to children, just kind of aloof and freaked out by them, but I definitely *did* say some numbskulled shit to my friends with kids a few times. Completely missing how disempowered mothers (and it was usually mothers) are in society BECAUSE of these same forces .

And I think something similar is going on here. Queer people are tired of having "Family Friendliness" shoved down our throats by corporations and conservatives, and so then we lash out... at young queer people. it's fine to have 18+ areas and events; It's very, very important to me that spaces like Furfest have them. But that's not the same thing as claiming young people have no space in our community as a whole. And I do think we need to erode the barriers between the adult and child worlds in a whole lot of ways, and reorient our attitudes toward nudity, sexuality, roleplaying, etc in public life. but that also doesn't mean a pup should run you out of a pride parade actually fucking sexually harassing you.

It feels great to be able to talk about this stuff! Thanks for your message.

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ashtavula · 2 months

Note

Hi hi!! So, I’ve got an idea:

ace, deuce, epel and jack with an s/o who showers them with affection after a big game or race? I recently got ace’s basketball card so the thought has been plaguing my mind since :’)

Gotta give some love to our sporty boys!

Showing affection to Ace, Deuce, Epel, and Jack after a game/race

Ace:

-Ace is nearly knocked off his feet when you tackle him in a hug. He's quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders, and you kiss him. His already flushed face grows a few shades darker, but he plays it off with a cocky grin. "Heh, I won the game! I deserve more than just one kiss, doll."

-Honestly, your affection is one of the best types of rewards for him. Hearing you cheer for him in the stands, and having you look at him like he's the only person that matters means a lot to him. It only makes him work twice as hard on the court, even if your loud cheering makes him feel more flustered than he'd like to admit.

Deuce:

-He actually doesn't notice you running up to him at first. All he can think about is how much his muscles burn, and then you crash into him. You almost knock him right over, but he's able to steady the both of you as you start to kiss him, overjoyed by his win. Deuce blushes, and gives you the sweetest smile. "T-Thanks, angel! I just know I can keep winning if you're cheering for me!"

-Deuce always looks for you when he's about to start, hoping to catch a glance of your face. It's really motivating for him to know that you're watching, and he'll do his absolute best to be the sort of boyfriend that you're proud of. He initially gets a bit embarrassed by the pda after a successful sprint, but he quickly forgets about that when you're giving him such earnest praise.

Epel:

-Man, he's tired. Using so much energy, both physical and magical, always leaves him feeling drained. Still, he welcomes you with open arms when you rush over, all excited by his success on the spelldrive field. He beams at you as you fawn over him. "Next time, I'll make sure the team scores even more points! Just wait and see!"

-Epel hyperfocuses on the game, so he never notices if you're in the crowd. Still, he loves knowing that you're out there screaming his name. It makes him feel more masculine, and he'll gladly puff out his chest to hear you say you're proud of him. He also likes to gloat about your relationship to his fellow team mates, just to see their faces twist when Epel reminds them that he managed to score such a supportive partner.

Jack:

-He hears you coming long before he sees you, ears perking up at the sound of you calling his name. His tail wags as you tug him down for a kiss, but he's quick to put you at arm's length, even as his tail starts swaying faster. "I'm all sweaty right now. Besides, I was just doing what I'm supposed to. No need for all of this."

-He likes to act like your support isn't that big of a deal, but he always looks for you before he runs. Your support means the world to him. He might not be the most affectionate right after, but it's just because he gets flustered by all the attention. Plus, he really doesn't want you to get grossed out by how sweaty he is. Once he's showered and you're both somewhere more private, feel free to gush over his successes, and watch his tail go wild as he blushes.

#ace trappola #ace x reader #deuce spade #deuce x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #jack howl #jack x reader #twisted wonderland #twst reader insert #twst x reader #twst

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eamour · 7 months

Text

making the first step.

manifesting, as we know it, means to deal with reality the way you want it. it means to accept things you like and to dismiss things you dislike. manifesting is all about what you choose to be aware of. in this post, i want to highlight the importance of knowing what you want and deciding to manifest your desire.

knowing what you want.

this is gonna sound like a hard pillow to swallow but believe me, been there, done that: just because you can have, be and do everything you want it doesn't mean that you are already having, being and doing these things — eventually, you need to know what you want in life. you need to have an image (not literally) what you want to experience. you need to know what you want for yourself. this goes for pretty much everybody and any desire you want to manifest.

things you don't want.

another important point i want to mention is the issue with making the wrong decision. no worries, you can and you are most definitely allowed to make decisions that turn out to be the wrong ones for you. sometimes, it's even necessary to do so. my point is that the moment you make the wrong choice and realise that this isn't want you want — EVEN if you have consciously manifested it from a state of once wanting it — you still have the right to un-want and to un-manifest it. essentially, doing something you dislike for too long will make you feel like you are rotting from the inside... and you really don't need to endure that.

feelings of being lost.

you cannot yield towards a goal you don't know. you cannot have something you cannot properly label. you cannot arrive with no destination. you can, surely, have an idea of something you want and get it regardless — but if you're uncertain, if you keep wavering between a handful of options and find it hard to make a decision, you will remain as you are. not knowing what you want for yourself, especially long-term, will be reflected to you in one way or another. and admittedly, it can be so tiring to know that you want to enter a new chapter in your life notwithstanding that you don't even know what it's gonna look like.

to decide means to change.

making a decision implies making a change within yourself. it doesn't matter how big or small that decision is going to be, how significant or unimportant the things are that you want for yourself — making a decision means to declare that you want something and that you are willing to move towards it. and since self has to be expressed and there is only self to change, you will reflect those changes once you shift from within.

knowing who you are.

you know that you change once you know WHAT you want to change. however, it doesn't just end there. finally knowing what you want for yourself and being able to see yourself have those wonderful desires of yours also means to understand who YOU are. it means to get to know your inner man and the things he likes. and once you do, once you are aiming for the things you GENUINELY want, you will never experience a day of uncertainty again.

deciding to manifest.

you see how much of a relevance it is to simply decide? so many people don't take their time to go within themselves and to actually get to know their deepest desires. so, what i want you to do is to make up your mind. pretend i'm your mom or your virtual manifestation assistant who tells you do to your chores. i don't really mind if it takes you a lot of time or if it makes you feel uncomfortable. whatever you want, you can have it 100%. and all those feelings of irritation and fear are all just created by you. act as if the outer world doesn't exist for a minute. as if there are no rules in the world that could get between you and your desire.

with love, ella.

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daydreamingqueen1 · 6 months

Text

Puppy eyes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader (can be seen as platonic too)

Warnings: none. fluff, spencer being a bit of a germaphobe, no y/n, pretty sure is gn reader too

Summary: Spencer Reid vs puppy, need I say more

Word count: 1.3k

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It's the best day ever.

Your day had started pretty normal to be honest, you would even say it was kind of shitty since you had missed the subway you usually took for your daily commute to the BAU.

But, as wiser people say: Everything happens for a reason.

Because as you are making your way to work, your ears catch the soft sound of a creature whimpering. Trying to find the source, you give a couple tentative steps with your head turning from left to right like you are a hunting hound.

Ironically, behind the decorative bushes that surround the FBI building entrance, you find the origin of the sound.

It's not a hound but it's close enough. It's a puppy.

A beautiful, chocolate spotted puppy.

"Oh my god, sweetie, come here!" you gush automatically, your hand extending gently to reach for the animal currently crying between the bushes and the wall.

The adorable puppy looks up at you a bit hesitant at first, big brown eyes meeting yours. It gives a sniff to the air, checking the scent of your palm from afar, you almost squeal from how cute it looks.

Then it wags its tail.

You make kissy noises to coax him closer, your voice getting two tones higher, "Come here puppy!"

It works because soon enough it walks out of its hiding spot and nuzzles into your palm eagerly, tail wagging from side to side.

You practically lunge to grab the poor thing, "Look at you! You are so cute!"

The puppy doesn't seem to mind your cuteness aggression though, its fluffy body melting on your arms when you scratch behind its long ears, "You're coming home with me."

Best day ever.

But you can't just ignore your responsibilities and walk back home to stay with it, and it wouldn't be sensible to leave such a young puppy alone in your apartment either.

So you do the next most reasonable thing.

Your smile almost takes up your whole face when you walk out of the elevator with the puppy in your arms.

Penelope spots you first, immediately dropping the files on her hands on a random desk to come rushing to you, "Oh my god! Oh my god! It's that a puppy my eyes are seeing?!"

You giggle, pretty much vibrating with joy at this point, "Yes, isn't it the cutest thing ever?"

"Aww, my heart can't deal with this!" she cries, hands fanning herself dramatically.

"Where did you get it?" Prentiss chirps in, hers and almost every other head in the bullpen looking up from their desk to look at you. Well, at the puppy.

You keep walking into the office with Garcia looming all over you, "It was crying outside. This little thing was all alone in the bushes."

A hoard of agents are suddenly surrounding you, eager to get a closer look.

"You'll have to look if it belongs to someone," Morgan says, which makes you instantly pout.

"It doesn't have a collar, idiot," Emily argues quickly, "Such a profiler you are."

"I wanna keep it," you smile brightly, "I think it's a boy."

You turn the puppy onto it's back.

"Yep, definitely a boy," Morgan chuckles, he attempts to pet its head but the creature recoils in your arms, clearly overwhelmed at the amount of people.

Noticing the puppy is a bit scared, you pull back from the crowd, only then you notice a certain agent who remains seated on his desk.

“Don't you want to see it, Spencer?” you ask eagerly.

He shakes his head, his body leaning away slightly, “I can see it from right here, don't worry.”

“Oh, come on Reid, don't tell me you are afraid of dogs,” Derek never loses a chance to tease him.

Spencer gives him a flat look, “I'm not scared of dogs, I’m just aware of the amount of diseases they can transmit to humans.”

You tsk your tongue. “But he's so cute, and it doesn't look like it has rabies or anything,” you look down at the dog while approaching his desk, talking directly at it with a baby voice, “Tell me, do you have rabies, little puppy?”

It just stares blankly at you. Proof enough. “See?”

Spencer, ever the statistics expert, begins his rant, “Well, actually, rabies is not the most common disease dogs can carry, nor the only one. Illnesses that pass between animals and humans are known as zoonotic diseases and a 2007 study based in Finland shows that noroviruses are one of the leading causes of diarrheal diseases among people of all age groups and that these can survive in dogs and be passed along to– Please don't get that thing any closer.”

You chuckle at the panic look Spencer gives you when you reach his side. Truthfully, you aren't going to make him touch the puppy if he's uncomfortable with it, but a little bit of teasing is at the order of the day, “Oh, really? Come on, holding it for a second won't kill you.”

You pull the puppy up next to your face and give him your best puppy eyes, mimicking talking as the puppy, “Please? Am I not cute enough to pet?”

Spencer gives you a long look, “Yes, very cute.”

Forcing down your blush, you extend the puppy to him, “Then pet it.”

He presses his lips in a line, his hands coming up defensively as he rolls backwards on his office chair, “I think I'll pass.”

You chuckle and are about to back off when the puppy squirms in your arms, leaping out from your hands.

The scene unfolds in front of your eyes almost in slow motion. You watch how the pup flies in the air, its short body extended as a superhero.

Spencer catches it, thank god.

“Oh, no,” he squeaks when he realizes what he's done, holding the puppy as if it were about to explode, panickedly starting to name every possible disease, “Pasteurella, Salmonella, Brucella, Yersinia enterocolitica, Leptospira–”

His alarmed ramble gets interrupted by the enthusiastic puppy licking up his cheek.

You freeze for a moment, expecting him to die from a heart attack.

Spencer giggles.

“It's giving me kisses,” his face scrunches up adorably at the onslaught of affection, “It tickles, buddy.”

You can't help the relieved laugh that escapes your lips, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm going to have to wash my face with antibacterial soap though,” he chuckles as he puts the puppy down on his lap, away from further kisses.

Oh, and you've just fucked up so bad because your heart gets squeezed inside your chest at the endering sight of Spencer and the puppy staring at each other.

“You are right, he's cute,” Spencer turns to smile at you, the animal's tail wagging incessantly.

You fucked up good.

“Aww, look at you two,” Penelope says excitedly, “It even looks like you, Reid!”

Your gaze shifts back and forth from your coworker to the creature on his lap. Penelope has a point, you can kind of see the resemblance. The puppy has long ears with soft, brown curls covering them that look similar to Spencer's long hair. The cute, hazel puppy dog eyes go without saying.

Morgan snorts, “Babygirl, you are right, it kind of looks like the kid.”

You pick up the puppy and smile, “Seems like I got myself my own mini Doctor Reid,”

Spencer is about to say something back when Hotch’s office opens, both him and Rossi entering the bullpen.

“Agent, please tell me that's not a dog you have there.” Hotch gives you a stern look.

“It is not, sir,” you answer, smiling apologetically and holding the puppy closer against your chest.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Everyone to the meeting room, we've got a case.”

The puppy lets out a tiny bark, and you make your way to the meeting room before Hotch can tell you anything else.

Spencer sits next to you on the round table and whispers against your ear as everyone is filling in, “I'll help you take care of little Doc here if you decide to keep him.”

Not even the gruesome details of the case are enough to sour your mood.

Best day ever.

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yep, this was inspired by all of the MGG pictures with puppies. I am weak.

leave me a prompt if you want!

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

My masterlist

#spencerreid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #criminal minds #bau team #derek morgan #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #drabble #spencer reid blurb

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such-expensive-mistakes · 6 months

Text

Superpham AU (part 5)

Masterpost

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This is more of an interlude, but I figured I would get it posted for WIP Wednesday. Enjoy!

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Ellie lost her phone somewhere between San Diego and Vancouver. Normally, that's not a big deal; she loses or breaks a phone every few months, and each time she just gets another of those cheap pay-as-you-go phones to replace it. She has Danny's number memorized, and that's the important one.

Except that Danny hasn't answered his phone for the past week.

For the first few days, she assumed he'd broken it in a ghost fight and Tucker hadn't got around to fixing it yet. But it's day six and Danny still hasn't answered. At first, Ellie planned to go to Amity Park, but before she's halfway there she thinks better of it. Danny's stronger than her, and if something bad happened to him, she wants to be prepared.

So instead, she's invisibly flying around the campus of UPenn, looking for Jazz and kicking herself for not memorizing which dorm the older girl is living in. There are a lot of people, and a surprising amount of them are tall redheads.

Eventually, she spots Jazz leaving one of the lecture halls. There are dark circles under the other girl's eyes, and she seems to be ignoring all the people around her.

Ellie slips around a corner to a spot no one is watching and lands, turning visible. Then she runs to catch up.

"Jazz!" she calls.

Jazz whirls around, eyes wide. "Ellie? What are you doing here?"

Ellie is taken aback at her sharp tone. "Just leaving, I guess."

"No, wait!" Jazz grabs her wrist before Ellie can slip away. And sure, she can always go intangible to escape, but she doesn't need to just yet.

"It's not safe for you here," Jazz says. "Let's go back to my room."

She's quiet as she leads Ellie back to her dorm. They get stopped in the hallway by a few other students, but Jazz extricates herself from the conversation by introducing Ellie as her "little cousin" and saying she's going to show Ellie around.

Finally, they arrive in Jazz's dorm room. It's roughly the size of a closet, and with two beds, two dressers and two desks, there's hardly any room left to stand in. It's easy to tell which side belongs to Jazz; it's the one that's actually organized.

Oh, and the picture of Jazz and Danny taped to the wall are also a dead giveaway.

"My roommate has class til four," Jazz says. "So that gives us some time." She sits on her bed, and Ellie perches on the nearby desk.

"Danny isn't answering his phone," Ellie says.

"Danny is missing."

The fear that Ellie has been trying to ignore sets in.

"Missing, like…" she trails off. Maybe "missing" just means he's dealing with Vlad, or with something in the Ghost Zone.

"Mom and Dad are dead. Their portal was destroyed. Sam and Tucker said it was the GIW. And no one has seen Danny since." Jazz sounds close to tears. "The GIW is still looking for Phantom, so we don't think they have him, but I don't know where he is. Tucker thinks he might have made it through the portal, but we don't have a way to check."

"I can check," Ellie says. "I can use Vlad's portal."

"Are you sure?" Jazz's voice is gentle, like she thinks Ellie might break. And yeah, Ellie hates Vlad and his stupid lab and his stupid house, but anything is better than sitting around and waiting for answers.

"I'm sure."

#superpham au #dpxdc #dcxdp #wip Wednesday

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vorthosjay · 28 days

Note

Hi Jay. Not wanting to sound mean, but I really think it must be commented and that there's no softer way of doing that: the company's statement of Thunder Junction being an inhabitated plane prior to MoM is not a honest way of capitalizing on a sellable trope without touching its uncomfortable issues. It's even disrespectful. They have done it in a less flagrant way with Kaladesh and both Ixalan iterations, but now they've gotten too far with Thunder Junction. Colonialism is too big an issue to simply being put under the carpet as it never existed and we could just enjoy the sunny part of the history. I really hope Hasbro as a company acknowledges this and changes its way of dealing with the theme. Thanks for letting me pointing this.

Look, you caught me on a bad day, so I'm going to be as polite as possible but let's start with the foundation that this is not a complaint to direct at me. I have no control over any of this. Mark Rosewater exists and takes feedback on Tumblr.

But, let's talk about it, because I've seen some folks take this to extremes.

First off, I've seen a lot of well meaning folks speaking up on behalf of hypothetical indigenous americans, but I'd love to get takes from folks this actually impacts. I'd love for Wizards to post something about their work with cultural consultants, for sure. But the only actual thing I've seen so far is a great story from Magic's first indigenous american author. And when you're speaking on someone else's behalf, you tend to miss things. Like, Kaladesh is not the great representation of south asian culture that you might think when you jumped to it, and it's okay if you didn't know that, but it sort of proves the point that it's very difficult to actually protest on someone else's behalf. And I just haven't heard from anyone who has also mentioned they speak from authority or are impacted by this. That doesn't mean you're wrong, necessarily.

But here's the thing. Thunder Junction isn't history. It takes cues from the American West, sure, but it's a fake world. And sometimes it's okay for a fake world to ignore the bad things that happens in real life and create something more aspirational. Magic does this all the time. Magic doesn't have homophobia, but that isn't really realistic or representative of the real world, is it?

No one, and I mean literally no one, came to me and said that people of color needed to be ostracized and not allowed to work alongside the white people in the demon mob families of New Capenna. That racism was real, it was systemic, and it was violent. But did it need to be tackled in a fantasy crime drama based on america in the 20s? Should it have been? I don't think anyone would have enjoyed it as much. Sometimes it's just fun to play gangster.

Similarly, the colonization and manifest destiny that was the reality of the American West was tragic, but does that need to be our only depiction of indigenous peoples - being colonized? If they were erased completely from the narrative, that would be awful, but can't they just have fun being cool thunder slingers? The Atiin were developed with a consultant, and if you want answers ask Wizards to talk about it.

There's a reason the Oltec were depicted as being sealed off from the Immortal Sun drama that had happened on the surface. To have an aspirational mesoamerican culture that wasn't affected by the Dusk Legion and Azor and all that.

To put it in another perspective, does every period piece featuring black americans need to feature systemic racism to be respectful? Is Bridgerton disrespectful (I mean probably but not for that reason)?

The reason I've framed a lot of this as questions is because I don't necessarily think I know the right answer, especially not for a fantasy card game. I've worked with tribal governments in my emergency management career and spent a week on the Navajo Nation, and talked a lot about perspective on things, and I would not presume to know what the right answer to all of this is.

Edit: to be clear, Could it have been handled better? Probably. I will never deny that. But also it’s a complicated and fraught topic and I’d love to hear from the people wizards contracted who actually know what they’re talking about.

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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

Text

Sweeten the Deal

Kinktober Day 4- Femdom

warnings: batgirl!reader, afab!reader, bondage, canon typical violence, implied batman x reader, degradation, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, spit as lube, unprotected sex, fade to black sex scene, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

kinktober masterlist

when you take the bag off of crane’s head, he is already conscious. he grins, though it’s lazy and dazed with his eyes unfocused.

“batgirl,” he drawls in that sickly sweet voice of his.

“crane,” you reply bitterly.

you had chased him down the streets of gotham in the rain. he had gotten some hits in, but your injuries were nothing compared to the uncomfortable squelching in your suit. when you finally caught up with him, you hit him in the back of the head with a rusty pipe and he was out. it’s not your most tactful capture, but it worked.

“i have to say, i’m a little offended they sent you after me instead of daddy. i guess i’m not as big of a bad guy as i used to be,” he smirks.

it’s a dig at your power, strength, and a slightly misogynistic one at that. you narrow your eyes at him. he can talk all the shit he wants, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s bound to a chair bolted to the floor.

crane looks around the warehouse he’s being held in, taking in the sight of the tall ceiling, dim lighting, and seeming lack of exit.

"this doesn't seem like the interrogation room they usually take me to," he notes.

you roll your eyes. "No, it isn't."

"have you bat-people finally taken over and judge and jury now, too?" crane looks far too smug for someone who is ultimately at your mercy.

"this isn't your typical trial, crane." you step closer to him. "you have information i need, so in return for your cooperation, i won't turn you in to the police."

crane leans his head back as much as he can due to the high back of his chair and raises his eyebrows at you. "you think you're doing me a favor by not turning me in? you turn me in and i'll just escape again, just like i did the last time, and the time before that. seems like those arkham employees really don't have their heads on straight," he smirks.

you pause for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal. sure, crane has a phd, but you didn't think he'd be able to figure you out so quickly.

"how about we made a deal, then, crane?"

he looks at you with an unimpressed stare. "what, i tell you what you want to know and you stop torturing me?" he adjusts in his seat. "no offense, but a little girl in a costume doesn't really scare me." before you can respond, he's talking again. "besides, there is nothing you can do to me that i haven't already done to myself."

after that, he grins. it's unsettling, maniacal, and it reminds you that you're not just dealing with a guy who wears a costume and runs around the city. this guy is fucking crazy.

you exhale through your nose, resolving yourself to using a different interrogation method. you're not proud of it, but like crane said, there isn't any way to hurt or scare him. he already thinks you're only good for using your feminine wiles to distract enemies. what do you have to lose by confirming his suspicions?

"no, i'm not going to hurt you."

"oh, good. i have to say, i was getting pretty tired of batman breaking my ribs."

"i have something to offer you at batman can't," you say. you walk right up to his chair, almost standing between his bound legs. "sex appeal."

crane laughs, and the sound makes you feel slimy. "you must be one of those blind bats, or maybe batman really is your father." you furrow your brows behind your mask.

"but i can offer you something much more comfortable than what he would."

crane looks your body up and down, not trying to hide ogling in the slightest. "i see... so why don't you get on with it and take off that ridiculous suit."

"that's not how this works. you talk first," you say.

"how do i know you're not going to take my information and leave me here?"

you slip your leg over his hip and hold onto the back of the chair, lowering yourself onto his lap. he raises his eyebrows, looking up at you with a slight smirk on his lips.

"how about i give you some, you give me some?" he asks.

"fine. you go first," you say, not bothering to hide the annoyance from your voice. "tell me what you know."

"i know a lot of things. i'm a doctor, after all. i doubt most of it would be of any interest to you, though."

you sigh heavily. "tell me what you know about the drug supplier for arkham."

"hm, i'm not sure that rings a bell," he looks up at you with a devilish look in his eyes. you clench your jaw as you reach towards the base of your throat to grasp at the zipper to your suit. you drag it down slightly, revealing some of your cleavage.

"don't play dumb with me, crane."

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"the original drug supplier for the asylum got bought out by some no-name company with no public records or anything."

"and why do you think this has something to do with me?"

you narrow your eyes. "because a week before the merger, the old ceo checked into arkham after a psychotic break. that has scarecrow written all over it."

crane chuckles. "it wasn't my idea. i was simply following orders."

"who's orders?"

"i don't know. i got back to my temporary residence and there was an unmarked envelope with my name on it. thirty-thousand dollars cash up front. the letter said they'd give me the rest upon completion of the job."

"so you did this without even knowing why? he was an innocent man," you say, voice almost a growl.

crane laughs mockingly. "oh, you precious thing. men like that are rarely innocent. he could've been corrupt, or an infidel, or a sexual predator. everyone is guilty of something. even batman, even you."

ignoring his bait for a reaction, you continue with your questions. "they gave you cash up front. why didn't you just take the money and run?"

"steal from a mysterious organization who knows my identity and where i'm hiding out?" crane scoffs.

"so you're-"

"if you want anything else, you better show some more skin," he interrupts.

glaring at him, you unzip your suit all the way but leave it on to show off the rest of your cleavage and down your stomach. his eyes trail over your skin hungrily.

"so you're just a hitman for hire now?" you ask.

"why, are you in the market?"

"have you done any other jobs?" you ask instead of answering his ridiculous question.

"maybe i have. maybe your precious batman is screaming and crying for you to come save him. wouldn't that be a sight? your mentor needing to be rescued from his bad dreams by you."

his voice is almost hypnotic, but you know better than to fall for his tricks. he's trying to persuade you to give into your baser urges, your jealousy, your need to be useful. fucking psychopath.

you reach around his head and twist your fingers in his hair, yanking it back causing it to knock against the metal back of the chair. he winces a bit, but it does nothing to quell the wild look in his eyes.

"shut up, crane."

"feisty," he remarks. "i did a few jobs outside the city, but those aren't in your jurisdiction."

unfortunately, he's right. outside of the city is too vague to track anyone down and connect crane to crimes.

"how did you do it?"

"do what?" he asks, looking at your tits instead of your eyes.

"do whatever it is you did to that guy."

"you want the dirty details, batgirl?" he smirks. "of how i strapped him down and injected him with my chemical that put the fear of god in him?" his hips thrust up, jostling you on his lap and making you grab onto his shoulder for support. he looks up at you with a sick smile. "he screamed and screamed, begging for mercy, for death to take him. he ripped out his hair and scratched his skin bloody. i think he was imagining spiders from what i could gather, but in my professional opinion, he just seems like your regular nutcase."

recounting his crime clearly feeds into some sick fantasy he has, but by playing into it, you're getting the information you need. you look down to see his cock straining in his pants.

"jesus, you're crazy," you say in disbelief, though you shouldn't be surprised.

"yet you still decided to crawl into my lap. you're just as crazy as i am, you're just afraid to get your hands dirty."

you can handle crane doubting your strength, your intelligence, your capability, and your worthiness to wear the bat symbol, but you refuse to let him compare the two of you.

"we are nothing alike," you hiss. "i don't torment people for my own enjoyment."

"what are you doing to me now?" he says, looking down at where your hips have shifted closer to his erection.

without thinking, you reach forward and harshly grab his cock through his pants. he winces and squirms, trying to get away from your touch or wanting more of it, you're unsure.

"you sick fucking bastard," you spit. "talking about your attempted murder got you this hard?"

"it was mostly the slut on my lap."

"you want me to hold up my end of the deal, crane? well it's going to be on my terms."

you climb off his lap and take off your suit, leaving you in your undergarments and mask. his eyes study you intently, making you feel more like a test subject than sexy.

when you step back over to him, you yank open the fly of crane's pants and take out his cock. he's hard and average sized; nothing impressive but enough to satisfy you.

standing in front of him, you spit into your hand and bring your wet fingertips down to your pussy. you open yourself up while he watches, unable to do anything else.

once you deep yourself open enough, you sit back on his lap and hold onto his dick, positioning his tip at your entrance.

"ask me for more," you say. "beg me for my pussy."

"this wasn't part of the deal," crane says, smug.

"i won't give you anything if you don't play by my rules. you're my prisoner right now."

crane rolls his eyes but resolves himself. "please give me your pussy," he says unenthusiastically.

"you can do better than that."

"please bless me with your fucking cunt, batgirl. i want you to use me." his tone could use some improvement, but the words were good enough to satisfy you.

you sink down on his length slowly to adjust to the size. by the time you're fully seated, crane is having a much more difficult time keeping his composure. his breathing is faster and small whines occasionally escape his mouth.

"how's that, crane?" you ask, voice breathy in his ear. "everything you thought it'd be?"

"looser than i expected. guess daddy treats you well," he chuckles, though it trails off into a moan.

you roll your hips a bit, gripping his shoulders tightly. perhaps you're holding on tighter than you need to, but pain clearly isn't a problem for crane.

"now you can tell all your freak friends- joker, harley, the riddler, whoever else you run with these days- that you got fucked by batgirl. i bet you'll spin it like you got me begging on my knees for you, but we'll know the truth. we know that you whimpered for my pussy like a little bitch."

“they don’t give a shit about you. but they’ll love to hear that i fucked batman’s bitch. does he know that you’re stepping out on him tonight?” he asks with a grin.

no, bruce doesn’t know what you’re up to tonight, and when you tell him, he’ll get the abridged version.

“stop fucking talking about him,” you hiss in his ear. “keep his name out of your disgusting mouth.”

crane moans at that. a genuine, low moan.

“i would’ve let myself get caught sooner if i’d known you were so easy to give it up.”

you’re riding him now, bouncing on his lap and using your grip on his shoulders as leverage. he watches as your tits jiggle in his face, staring shamelessly like the pig he is.

this doesn’t seem like much of a punishment for him, but fucking yourself on his cock is too enjoyable to care. besides, as soon as you finish, you will be promptly sending him back to arkham where he’ll be held in a much more secure wing.

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #nolanverse #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane fanfiction

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lalacliffthorne · 5 months

Text

christmas with the modern!batboys!roommates - as headcanons 💕

because there's way too much I wanna talk about to just put it into a meek lil drabble!!! and I actually can't wait for christmas now. 🎄

merry christmas ya filthy animals 🎀

it's about halfway through November when you decide on spending your Christmas at the flat

reason is the fact that all of your three roommates will, for once, also be staying for the holidays

usually, Rhys is forced into an awkward, stilted celebration with his father that mostly consists of very tense dinners, coffees and him trying to flee to his room for as much time as possible

Azriel always visits his mother, and Cassian usually either stays at the flat or visits the orphanage he spent half of his childhood in to help with the kids

but this year, Rhys' father isn't even in the country because of some business deal

Rhys jumps at the opportunity to avoid one awful holiday and decides to not go with him and instead spend christmas at the flat

Azriel's mother is seeing someone new who invited her to spend the holidays in the mountains

Az really doesn't want to be third-wheeling, so he, too, decides to stay home

(you're a bit surprised he's so unbothered about his mother dating someone new

he is quite protective of her

but then again, Az is quicker than even Mor at stalking someone on the internet

and out of all of you, has probably the best intuition when it comes to people

which means the new guy seems to have passed all the first hurdles)

Cassian doesn't let it show too much bc he doesn't want them to feel bad about how things usual go

but you can tell he's beyond happy to have them there

Mor's also staying in town and will be over for Christmas Eve

you usually always go home for the holidays

but sometimes, it´s time for new traditions, right?

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

Your voice rises over the sound of the movie, and with a curious look, Rhys turns it on mute before looking your way, Cassian, lounging in one of the armchairs, doing the same when you worm yourself out of Azriel's arms where you have been curled up for the past half an hour, barely paying any attention to the TV.

You can feel Azriel's eyes on the side of your face when you grin sheepishly.

"I - I think I'm gonna stay here as well for Christmas."

Cass crunches his brows in surprise. "What about your family, don't you go home usually?"

"Yeah." Rhys grins. "Won't you be missed?"

You huff at him.

"They might come here for a few days during the holidays, but -" You shrug and grin at them. "I don't know, I feel like I want to stay here this year." You frown in thought. "Would be weird to just leave you all here."

Cassian starts grinning toothily, and just that would have convinced you that this is definitely the right decision. But then you turn your head and find Azriel staring at you, the golden spots in his eyes seeming to twinkle in the warm light, and your heart does a flip.

Yep. Definitely worth it.

and with that and the knowledge that all of you will be spending Christmas at the flat together - you decide on going all in.

everything starts with the flat.

it's your home, your place to be after all

and it deserves to be spruced up and decked to completion

which is why it becomes first thing on your big Christmas list

because the boys usually don't spend the holidays at the flat, there aren't really any decorations in storage down in the basement

so the next Saturday, you and Rhys hit the high street and every place in town needed for the perfectly decorated flat

you get fir garlands and fairylights, together with an unholy amount of candles

in a concept store next to the café where you take a much needed break around lunchtime, you find funky glass baubles

(you make sure you take the black camera and one of the motorcycles)

in another store, you find big stars made out of thick paper for the windows, even light up ones, along with stockings and some candleholders for the big dining table in the living room

(because of course there will be a ridiculous amount of food, if the way Rhys has been buried in cookbooks for the past few days is any indication)

you even get a new set of dishware

on the market, you score some big wreaths

Rhys buys mistletoe; so much, you're wondering whether he wants to plaster the whole house

you get ribbons and wrapping paper, festive cookie cutters, trinkets and more candles -

then, the next morning, Rhys turns up the Christmas music, and you get to decorating

because Cassian is tallest, he is tasked with anything that involves hanging things up the second he steps through the front door

fastening garlands and fairylights to the doorways, putting up the light up stars you got for the windows and the one for your room that fits its colorscheme

and hanging up the mistletoe

you place garlands over the mantle of the fireplace, together with fairy lights and candles

the window sills get the same treatment, while outside, Rhys fights with a long string of tangled lights to wrap around the balustrade of the balcony and the bushes

for safety reasons, the stockings are hanging underneath one of the windows and not above the fireplace

(you don't want any accidents involving burning stockings)

you found some pillow cases and a cozy blanket for the couches that fit the theme, and the coffee table is decorated with more candles and a wreath with bows you tied meticulously

you even set up the big dining table in the living room, with more garlands and candles and some of the baubles, and the new dishware

(you rarely use that table because you always eat in the kitchen anyway, so it can stay like that until the holidays)

the bookcases get covered in fairylights and little trinkets, the mirror gets a stole of fir

you're hanging up the biggest of the wreaths with a big red bow at the front door of the flat when Azriel comes home

the corner of his mouth kicks up when he sees you, some glitter on your face, a black bow in your hair and beaming at him

and his eyes actually twinkle a little when he sees the decorated flat

Cassian is positively buzzing with happiness when he hangs up the final wreath in the kitchen window

Rhys has hung some fir branches over the table, with some baubles and ornaments dangling from them and candles sitting on the wooden tabletop

every room smells like pine and firewood and it makes your heart skip with happiness

Rhys smirks and drops his arm onto your shoulder

"not bad, darling. not bad at all."

and with that, the festive time between decorating and the actual holidays begin

and you plan to enjoy every second

one of the first days of December, all of you embark on the most important mission of all:

finding the perfect tree

there's a pop up outdoor place selling trees a little walk away from the flat

Rhys, extravagant as usual, wants to take the huge fir tree right at the entrance

you manage to convince him that even though your apartment does have very nice high ceilings, a tree the width of both Cassian and Azriel combined would be just a little over the top

Cassian votes for a slightly crooked specimen that's about two feet taller than him

("it's got character.")

in the end, Azriel is the one who finds the perfect one

"What about that one?"

Turning at the sound of Azriel's deep, calm voice, you slip past a bickering Rhys and Cassian, and Az looks down at you when you shiver happily and slide your cold hand into his pocket, curling yourself into his side.

It's gotten really freaking cold.

Squinting, you look up at the tree you're standing in front of. It's probably a foot taller than Cass, it's branches thick and close together and it's top just the tiniest bit crooked.

"Huh." You feel a smile slowly spreading over your face, turning your head without looking away from the tree. "Hey, dumb and dumber."

Azriel snorts softly.

"Who's who?" Cassian appears next to you, crunching his nose to suppress a sneeze as he offers you his elbow to hide your freezing hand in.

"If you gotta ask,", Rhys mumbles from Azriel's other side before dodging Cassian trying to kick his shin, his nearly violet eyes twinkling when he smirks.

Not you, you mouth up at Cass and earn yourself a wide grin and a wink.

"What about that one?" Azriel threads his fingers through yours in his pocket, nodding towards the tree in front of you.

Both Cassian and Rhys cock their heads to the side in unison.

"Hm." Rhys doesn't sound opposed like with every other tree that has crossed your way so far.

"It's big, but not too big, it's got character -" You shrug and look back and forth between them. "I think it's perfect."

"Let's check." Cassian lets go of you, and you're about to look up at him with a confused frown when strong arms wrap around your waist and lift you off your feet.

You squeak and sway and feel a deep chuckle against your back. You look up to find yourself face to face with the tree top, then you get slid back to your feet.

"Yup." Cassian straightens and pats your head. "Perfect height."

You scowl up at him.

"I mean, it's not as perfect as the first one -" Rhys gets cut off by three groans and snickers.

"But it's pretty close, so -"

"Thank God,", Azriel mumbles into your hair, and you giggle.

you go home with the tree and a white amaryllis that'll hopefully be in bloom by Christmas and that you want to use as centerpiece for the dining table

Cassian carries the tree like it's not a foot taller than him and probably just as heavy

that weekend, you put it up

Rhys and you bicker about the best way to detangle the ball of fairylights

by the time you're finished and turn towards the tree, Azriel holds up one end of the neatly laid out fairylights with a deadpan look

it takes some more bickering about the perfect way of wrapping the lights around the tree until the huge fir tree is twinkling from every angle

and then little by little, you distribute all the the baubles and ornaments evenly

Cassian is responsible for the top branches and you, begrudgingly, for all the ones at the bottom

the whole slightly chaotic endeavour is accompanied by the sound of Christmas music, hot chocolate and the crackling fireplace

when you're almost finished, Cassian lifts you up, completely ignoring your soft squeak, and Rhys hands you the tree topper

the golden star goes right on the top, and then you're done

that evening, you all just sit and stare at the tree

it's magnificent and slightly chaotic

really mirrors living in the flat, you think

and with the tree up, all the festive activities can truly begin

you bake gingerbread cookies, happy to huddle up in the warm kitchen as it progressively gets colder outside

you go gift shopping with Feyre and Mor, who get along like a house on fire

when Feyre drops you off at home after and helps you carry your bags upstairs, Rhys opens the door

you're pretty sure the blush in Feyre's cheeks does not stem from the cold

even as she huffs at Rhys' blatant flirting

you get dragged out for another round of gift shopping with Cassian a few days after

it ends with the two of you buying a dutch oven for Rhys and almost forgetting it on the Christmas market when you stop for mulled wine and food on the way home

since Feyre is going home for the holidays, you have a little celebration the second weekend of December

you kick the boys out of the flat for the evening

the two of you make a whole small roast, dancing around the kitchen to Christmas music and have dinner in the living room

the tree is lit, and the first presents have found their way under it, all wrapped up more or less craftfully

you watch classic christmas movies and eat on the couch

when the boys get back later that night, the both of you are so full and happy, Feyre actually beams at Rhys in passing

you think he might faint

after saying goodbye to Feyre at the door, you turn, and he still stands in the hall, looking a little dazed

when he glares at you like a silent "not a word", you grin and tackle him in a hug

he's adorable

the day after (probably in an act of revenge on Rhys' side), the both of you engage in a gingerbread house building competition in your kitchen

there's Christmas music, hot chocolate and containers and bowls with icing and dozens and dozens of different decorations spread all over the counter while you set up camp at the kitchen table

when Cass and Azriel come back from the gym and their own Christmas shopping in the late afternoon, the kitchen is absolute chaos

and Rhys and you have switched from hot chocolate to mulled wine and are slightly tipsy

both Cass and Azriel lean into the doorframe, staring at Rhys and you as you giggle and bicker, trying to kick at each other under the table

you're a little dishevelled, wearing a pair of wide pyjama pants, fuzzy socks and a loose t-shirt, your hair a mess and specks of icing all over your nose

Rhys looks equally unkempt for once, slightly flushed and violet eyes twinkling as he grins, icing on his dark t-shirt

when evening rolls around, you're completely exhausted

but both of your houses are standing

they are a bit wonky

but very pretty

complete with white icing, windows made from melted candy, roof tiles and cotton candy for smoke rising from the chimneys

Mor, who drops by that evening, acts as impartial judge and rules a tie

neither you nor Rhys really are too bothered by it

you're mostly proud they've not collapsed into heaps yet

Rhys smushes your face between his sticky hands and leaves a smacking kiss on your forehead that ends the competition before calling dibs on the first shower

and Azriel decides, when you crawl onto the couch where he's already sprawled out on the cushions and bury yourself in his chest, your body aching and feeling sticky

that even though he doesn't really care for sweets

you smelling like gingerbread and icing could make him come around to it

he doesn't say it, but when he wraps his arms around you and drags you up his body, curling around you to bury his face in your t-shirt and humming, you decide that this is definitely becoming a tradition

(even tho the next few days, Rhys and you get nauseous at just the sight of anything sweet)

the closer you get to Christmas, the more giddy you get

Azriel takes every chance he gets to crowd you under one of the many twigs of mistletoe Rhys has snuck into every possible spot in the flat and kiss you until your heart nearly gives out and your knees are jello and you can feel his lips curve against yours

to be fair, the other two don't really hold back either

Cassian has the time of his life leaving smacking kisses on the cheeks and foreheads of whoever ends up under a sprig of mistletoe next to him

it's cause to different stages of crunched noses and huffs

from amused (Rhys) to fits of giggling (you and Mor) to grumbling (Azriel)

and Rhys likes to dramatically pretend he's about to smooch the shit out of you, sweeping you up and dipping you back and everything, causing you to break into fits of snickers and Azriel to roll his eyes

you're pretty sure to see his lips twitch tho

you go to the Christmas market a few more times

with Rhys, because he wants to sample every food that's sold there and you would never pass up a chance to eat and gossip

then with all the boys and Mor, on an icy cold evening, to look at the decorations all over the shops and drink mulled cider

it's so cold you're permantely glued to Azriel's side, your fingers laced with his in his pocket, your arm wrapped around his elbow

he lets you slide into his coat as far as possible when you're waiting for the hot beverages, his chin resting on your head when you bury your face in his chest, his lips pressing against your forehead when you peak up at him, nose pink from the cold

the way he's staring down at you makes your heart hop and swerve, and Azriel's lips twitch

then, a few days before Christmas, Mor turns up and takes you ice skating

it ends in giggles, the two of you holding onto each other and singing aloud to the Christmas music from the speakers

you get waffles and hot chocolate after and Mor drags you with her into several clothing stores because she still doesn't have an outfit for the celebrations

it's when you decide she's gonna sleep over on Christmas Eve

because the thought of her going home in the evening and then coming back on Christmas Morning is just ridiculous

and when you promise she can sleep in your bed, all by herself, Mor beams

"okay!"

(you'd be sleeping in Azriel's room anyway)

the boys don't mind

quite the opposite

Rhys actually huffs bc he didn't think of it earlier

you have Christmas movie nights, with snacks and gingerbread and hot chocolate, the tree glittering and the smell of pine making your heart skip happily

gingerbread decorating competitions

and evenings where the fire is crackling and you are curled up against Azriel on the couch, reading with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and lips absentmindedly pressing against your temple

and then the afternoon before Christmas Eve, you take advantage of having the flat all to yourself and lock yourself in your room to wrap all your presents

in the end, you're sitting on the floor, surrounded by paperscraps and bows, with sticky tape on your forehead and a small heap of presents in front of you

wrapped to the best of your abilities and carefully labelled

they go onto the growing pile of presents under the tree, and you award yourself with a bubble bath

(wrapping gifts is hard, okay?)

you got the Dutch Oven you bought for Rhys with Cassian, along with a pair of purple fuzzy socks (mostly so he stops stealing yours) and fancy pickles

the guy has weird interests

Cassian's boxing gloves have seen better days, so you and Mor got him a new pair, with his name embroidered in deep red stitching at the wrist

you also bought him a set of hair care, after he once accidentally used yours and was in awe about how soft it made his hair for a solid three days

for Mor, you found a small shop on etsy that makes custom jewellery with recycled materials

you got her a necklace with a little charm with a little deep red stone and a matching bracelet, both dainty and slim

as well as a kit for a fancy bubble bath

as for Feyre, she already got her present a few days before and now lugs it home with her

you and Mor bought her a set of fancy oil paints

you also got her two mugs

one says coffee

the other paint water

you hope it means she stops accidentally poisoning herself

as for Azriel

his gift makes your heart hop with nerves

on Christmas Eve, Mor comes over, and Rhys whips up a three course dinner

you eat in the kitchen, Mor and you occupying the couch and giggling into your wine glasses

then you move to the living room and watch Home Alone

at 11, you all suddenly feel the need to move

so you bundle up with coats and scarves and hats before piling out of the flat

outside, it's so cold, your breath rises in thick white clouds

you take a long walk around the neighbourhood, looking at the lights and decorations everywhere

some people have wrapped their outside trees and bushes in fairylights

some have hung stars that light up porches, balconies and windows

you're actually not the only ones on a walk

there are still quite a few people out, probably with the same idea as you

you walk next to Mor, your arms linked together and awing softly at the glimpses you catch at decorated living rooms and twinkling trees

Rhys and Azriel are behind you, talking quietly between themselves

and Cassian is walking a little bit ahead of you, sniffling against the cold air, ridiculously broad in his thick jacket, a hat pulled over his head and seemingly lost in thought

after a while, you let Mor fall back to the other two and catch up with him

shivering happily, you wrap your arm around his and bump your shoulder softly into his side

"you okay?"

your voice is soft, and when you look up at him, your heart does a little warm pulse

because Cassian, big, vibrant, boisterous Cassian is completely quiet and calm

he looks at the houses with the lights and the twinkling trees in the living rooms, and one corner of his lips tips up gently

"yeah."

as you're staring up at him, something's suddenly swelling in your chest, making it hard to breathe

bc for one second, the only thing you see is a very little Cassian, alone in an orphanage on Christmas

you really try not to allow the sudden pressure behind your eyes to surface

but then Cassian looks down at you and gently bumps his elbow into your side, grinning softly

"got my family."

and that pressure spills over and with it the tears as your chin wobbles and your chest aches

"duh", you press out, voice weak and trembling, and Cassian smiles, bigger and crooked

you realise what that look on his face is when he tucks you into his side and lets you bury your face in his jacket until the tears have died

complete peace.

"Hey."

The quiet, deep voice travels through you, and you shift, grumbling quietly.

There's a soft breathed smile, then warm, rough fingers brush over your cheek, and lips press against your forehead. You can feel them move when the familiar deep voice, soft and rough with sleep, vibrates through you and causes shivers to run over your spine.

"C'mon baby, wake up."

Your heart does a little skip, and the warm haze of sleep slowly slips away. You exhale slowly, then you force open your heavy eyes, and something in your chest rises in a soft flutter.

Azriel's face is only an inch away, all sharp cheekbones and soft lips and tired eyes, and something in your chest dips over at the sight of his warm amber iris dragging over your face.

"Hi,", you mumble, voice thick and raspy with sleep, and the corner of Azriel's lips tips upwards, causing your heart to rise.

With a quiet sound, you shift closer, your arms sliding over his bare shoulders as his dip and wrap around your waist, pulling you into his body until one of your legs drapes over his hip and you're completely pressed together. There's something shifting at the back of your head, keeping you from just burying your face in the warm crook of his neck and going back to sleep -

Your heart misses a beat, your eyes dart up as suddenly, a flutter builds in your chest, and Azriel's lips curve, up and up until his cheek creases.

"There it is." His voice, deep and low, husky with sleep and vibrating with a hint of amusement, sends your heart tumbling as his gaze drags over your face. Then he blinks, and something softens in his eyes, a slow twinkle growing in his iris as his gaze drags over your face. One corner of his lips curves upwards.

"Merry Christmas,", he mumbles, low, deep, and steady.

If your heart hasn't stopped before, it definitely does now, and you need a couple of seconds until it works again. Then a smile spreads over your face, slow but growing until it is ridiculously wide.

"Merry Christmas,", you whisper back, breath hitching and voice thick with sleep and something pulsing and swelling under your ribs.

The twinkle in Azriel's eyes grows; your breath hitches when he dips his head, and something tipping over in your chest when he presses his lips onto yours, warm and slow and unhurried.

He only pulls back once he coaxes a soft sound breaking from your throat. Your heart is thrumming and one corner of his lips has curved lazily as he stares at you, a few strands of hair curving over his forehead, the rest so tousled, you just can't resist burying your fingers in it as warmth spreads through your body and your hearts start fluttering as giddiness starts spreading through your chest.

Slipping your arm tighter around Azriel's neck, you pull him down to kiss him again, deeper and firmer and causing your breath to shudder and Azriel to groan softly. His hand slips under your hoodie, palm slowly roaming up your back with the softest pressure, pushing your closer.

When you pull back, breathing shakily, warmth rushing through you and gather in your cheeks, Azriel nudges his nose against yours, a soft rumble building in his chest.

"Sleeping in on Christmas morning, so rebellious,", he mumbles, and you lightly kick his shin, causing a tired smirk to spread over his face that makes your heart topple and still.

Oh.

Azriel is about to pull you back in and roll you over when suddenly, the door bursts open.

You jump, Azriel huffs and rolls his eyes, and when you crane your neck to look over your shoulder, Cassian is standing in the doorway, only wearing a pair of checkered pyjama pants, hair pulled back haphazardly and grinning wildly.

"Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals. Get your asses out here." He winks. "It's present time."

knowing that he is not going to let up, you grumble and dig yourself out of your blankets

your heart starts hopping as you pull on some pyjama pants and fuzzy socks

Cassian hugs you so tightly, you can't help but fall into a fit of giggles when he lifts you off your feet with a dramatic groan

squeezing you for a solid few seconds in which you squeeze him back with all your might, he lets you slide back to the floor and presses a kiss onto your cheek before letting you pass

Rhys and Mor are already in the living room

the giddy feeling in your chest grows when you sink into Rhys who's sitting on the back of the couch, squeezing his middle tightly and feeling him hug you to his chest, pressing a kiss onto your hair before he straightens and pats your bum

you press a sloppy kiss onto his cheek in revenge that makes his nose crinkle and a snort break from your throat

then you drop down next to Mor on the carpet

you feel like your heart is expanding to impossible sizes when she wraps you up in a ribcrushing hug and leaves kisses all over your face until you giggle

Cass and Azriel come into the living room, and Rhys hugs Azriel so tightly he huffs, but you can see the muscles in his arms straining when he hugs him back

Mor beams up at Az when sinks onto the floor behind you, squeezing her shoulder before he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck

and you feel like you might burst

you open your presents, with the tree glittering and the fire crackling

Rhys fangirls over his pot and the pickles

Mor gets teary eyed over the jewellery and leaves more smacking kisses all over your face

and Cassian actually looks like he might be speechless when he unpacks the boxing gloves

he wraps you and Mor up in a hug so tight, you're completely smushed together

you even get a selfie from Feyre with her mugs and a deadpan look that makes you giggle for a solid minute

it's Azriel you're really watching though, as he unwraps the last gift with his name on it

you see him still for a second before he pulls out a very old camera

you feel something twitch nervously in your chest

"I - found it at an antique store. I remember you showed me a similiar one and that you said how difficult it is to find one like it today." you grin lopsidedly. "I got it repaired, it's working again."

Azriel blinks

then he raises his head, and you're pretty sure your heart just stops

because the way he is staring at you is flaring and deep and heated and burning with something that causes your breath to stop

his throat works, and he carefully slides the camera back into its case and places it on the floor

then he reaches out and drags you over the floor until you're trapped between his legs

your heart gets stuck in your throat when his arm slides around your waist

your breath falters when his hand comes up to cradle your face

and the world stills when he pulls you forward and kisses you like it's the first and last time and there's no one else in the room but you

and he doesn't need to say it

you can feel it all in the way his breath shudders when he exhales and somehow pulls you even closer, until you're flush against his chest and your arms wind around his shoulders and he kisses you harder

only Rhys clearing his throat makes you remember you're in fact not alone

something dips over in your chest, and you can feel heat wash over you when you somehow manage to break the kiss, breathing harshly as your fingers dig into Azriel's hair

you pull back a little and look at him, just to really be sure, and your heart tightens at the way he's looking at you

kinda like you're beginning and ending and everything in between

something swells in your chest, begins rising, and you can't help it

you beam at him, your heart thrumming against your ribs, and Azriel drinks it in like he's dying of thirst

you somehow manage to turn in Azriel's arms, curling into him as you stare at your friends that bicker and laugh, and your heart swells when Azriel buries his nose in your hair and holds you like he's not planning on ever letting go

after unwrapping, you have a big, fancy breakfast in the kitchen, with waffles and pancakes and eggs and bacon

you sit curled up in one corner of the couch, with Azriel behind you, chest in your back and arm wrapped around your waist

you spend the day all together

watching Christmas movies, playing boardgames

Rhys drives you all into bankruptcy at Monopoly, twice, and you beat Cassian at trivia (again)

when it gets dark in the afternoon, Rhys disappears into the kitchen, and Mor drags the rest of you to a classical Christmas concert in a church nearby

you all sit together, Azriel and Cassian flanking you and Mor, Azriel's fingers linked with yours

when you inevitably get teary eyed towards the ending, Mor squeezes your other hand and sniffles

when you get back to the flat, you're met with scents more delicious than anything you have ever smelled before

your stomach grumbles, Cassian groans, and Rhys appears in the doorway to the kitchen and grins

"to the table, please"

to say he went all in would be too little

he supplies you with a whole seven course dinner

soups, salads, a whole freaking goose, and two kinds of dessert that make your mouth water even though you already feel like you won't be eating anything until next Christmas

the whole living room is lit

the tree is twinkling, the candles are flickering and the fireplace crackling

Cassian's rambunctious laughter mixes with Mor's ringing giggles and Rhys' deep laughs, and Azriel sits next to you and grins, his arm draped over the back of your chair that he has pulled so close you can feel the side of his body pressing against yours

and you think that maybe, making new traditions was the best idea you ever had

it's really only topped by your decision to move into this flat.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123 @ailyr92

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 7 months

Text

An Ego Thing - Max Verstappen

Another night out with the girls meant another long one. And it always meant another argument brewing. You walked through the apartment door, tossing your jacket aside and setting your purse down on the counter.

Checking your phone, you saw the five missed calls and numerous texts from Max, all asking where you were. He knew you were always out with your friends, so you didn't see any reason to answer him. You were as quiet as you could be, the only sound being your heels clicking on the cold marble of the floor.

"Where have you been?" you heard from the chairs beside you, and you turned to see Max sat there, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was angry. "It's not that important," you said, dropping down onto the chair opposite him. "I think it is, you've been out all night without a word," he huffed, sitting up in his chair.

"It's none of your concern," you reiterated, not wanting to tell him that you'd been clubbing. He hated it when you went, since he knew that guys would be making passes at you and your friends, as well as sending countless drinks your way. "I think you'll find that it is, my girlfriend has been out all night and won't tell me where she was,"

You just sighed, not feeling like fighting with him tonight. "I was out with my friends, we went to a couple of bars, a couple of clubs," you shrugged, watching something flash in eyes. Something you knew all too well. Something you wished you didn't.

"How many times have I told you that I don't like it when you go to those places?" he said, his knuckles turning white due to how hard he was clenching his fists. "How many times have I told you that it really isn't a big deal?" you reasoned, trying to diffuse the situation.

"It is a big deal when my girlfriend doesn't listen to how I feel and disobeys my requests," he said, tilting his head. You could see his leg bouncing up and down, trying to keep himself calm. "I just don't get why I'm not allowed to go clubbing with my friends," you said, since he had never actually given you a straight answer as to why.

"I don't like the people there, OK?" he asked, hoping you'd accept his answer.

"Who, my friends?"

"No, your friends are fine," he shook his head, looking down at his feet, "I don't like the other people there, they only want to take advantage of you," he said, as if he hadn't met you in a club. "No, they don't, Max," you told him, finding his reasonings to be skewed.

"They send you wandering stares from across the room, don't they? They send you drink after drink until they get you vulnerable, don't they?" he asked, sitting up straighter than he was before, his breathing becoming more ragged.

"Sure, some people send drinks over to us, but that's where it stops," you told him, thinking he was being completely unreasonable. "Oh, you sure about that?" Max scoffed, adopting a nearly mocking tone to his voice. "For fucks sake, Max. I should have known this was what you were getting at," you tutted, standing from your seat to leave.

"Yeah? What do you think I'm 'getting at'?" he asked, also standing and following you into your bedroom. "You don't like me going to clubs with my friends because you don't trust me," you told him, turning to face him and crossing your arms.

"It's not that I don't trust you, I don't trust the people around you," he rolled his eyes, as if that were a fact that were completely obvious. "Then how come, every time I go somewhere, whether it be a cafe or a club like tonight, you say the same thing. You don't trust the people around me, when I have proven time after time that I am fine," you spat through gritted teeth, containing the anger you felt bubbling in your chest.

"I just don't like it when you go without me, because then I never know what you get up to," he said, as if what he were saying was completely logical and reasonable. You could take care of yourself, and you sure as hell didn't need Max to watch over you. "But whenever I invite you, you never want to go with me!" You said, your voice raising slightly out of pure disbelief.

"You think I want to go out with you and see all the men who look at you like they want to fuck you?" He countered, aggressively running his hand through his hair, not caring as they occasionally snagged on the tangled blonde strands. "Back to this again? They might look at me like that, but I wouldn't act on it. I knew you didn't trust me but this is ridiculous!" You scoffed, stepping away from him.

"Why wouldn't I trust you?" He asked with wide eyes, his brain clearly not able to process how his words told you he didn't trust you. If he was being honest, he'd say he didn't trust you, but Max was never one for being honest. "I could ask you the same question, but you clearly don't," you said, just on the verge of blowing a gasket at him.

"What gives you that impression, though, I don't understand?" he asked, his volume growing and growing with every word he spoke. Sometimes he baffled you at the lack of social cues or emotional intelligence he had. "It's the way you always ask where I am, the way you interrogate me, the way you always ask how many guys send me drinks or if I thought any of them were attractive," you said, recounting a small amount of the ridiculous questions he had asked you in the past few months.

"It's just a precaution, you'd do the same if I was out all the time," he said, trying to flip it back onto you. He always did that, he always tried to make it seem like you'd do the same things that he would, so what he was doing was fine. If he was 'out all the time', you wouldn't have taken precautions because you thought you trusted him. No, you did trust him, but he was giving you plenty of reason not to.

"God I hate you when you're like this, you know that?" You snapped, pointing a finger in his face. You were just so annoyed at him, since he was ruining your night. "I hate you when you're like this," he countered, raising his voice to a shout, "You come stumbling in, then you pick fights with me over nothing!" He yelled, trying to make it sound like you weren't thinking straight.

"Over nothing? You call not trusting me nothing? Because I'm pretty sure that's the most important quality to have in a relationship," you shouted back. You despised the way he was trying to spin the situation by implying you were drunk and that was the reason you were arguing. How he made you sound like the crazy, unreasonable one. How he made it sound like this was all your fault. Not his.

"Well I can't trust you not to go out and get drunk with men every weekend, so what do you expected me to do?" He yelled, flailing his arms around. "I'm not drunk, Max, I'm just sick of your shit," you said, "You just love to put the blame on me every time we argue, as if you're completely faultless and perfect!" you cried, wanting to shake him and rattle some sense into him.

"I'm not the one who is always going out and reluctant to say where I am. You say trust is vital, well so is honesty, and you lack that," he shouted, putting his arms up defensively. You felt like he was a five year old. Whatever he did lacked, you lacked more. Whatever he did wrong, you did worse.

"You know what Max? Fuck you. I am sick of you trying to make me out as the villain, when we both know you're worse," you spat, pushing past him with a knock on the shoulder. You could feel his glare on the back of your head, and you could hear the cogs in his brain grinding together. You could just tell he was gearing up to say something nasty, just so he could feel he ended the argument. He was petty like that.

"God I hate you so fucking much right now," he shouted at you, and you nearly stopped in your tracks. You were waiting for it, but not that. "Well I'm glad you're being fucking honest for once!" You screamed, losing all control over yourself. As soon as you slammed the door, his words rattled around your head. I hate you so fucking much.

You hated the way he made you feel, you hated the way he spoke to you, the way he acted like a petulant child when he didn't get his way. Relationships were supposed to be fun, happy things, not something that made your nights end in misery. It was like you were both angry all the time.

I hate you so fucking much.

It wasn't only that you despised the fact he outright said he hated you, it was the fact that his words had hurt you. It was like he had skewered your heart on a stake, and he was just watching the blood drain from it. You hated how it hurt. You didn't want to react. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of an outburst. You didn't want to let him think he'd won.

I hate you.

But the fact that that was what he said to elicit a reaction was downright despicable. Boyfriends weren't supposed to make their girlfriends feel sad and hopeless. They were meant to make you feel loved, and elated whenever you were around them. They were supposed to love you, not hate you.

You took yourself off to bed, wanting to sleep off the overflowing, boiling pot of anger that was flooding through you. Closing your eyes, all you could see was Max, brandishing his finger in your face, anger fast over all of his features. I hate you so fucking much.

—

Over the next few days, you refused to apologise to Max. It wasn't your fault, and you certainly weren't going to cave just to make it all go away. Those kind of words didn't just go away. Maybe it was an ego thing, but you wouldn't apologise.

Max had tried to talk to you, but it was never to say he was sorry. He was just trying to brush it under the rug, forget about it. But, it was becoming more apparent and clear that you weren't wanting to forget about it. And rightly so. It still didn't feel like he knew it was his fault, and that he'd taken it too far.

You could tell he was getting more and more frustrated as the days went by, and it finally felt like you were getting your own back. You wouldn't tell him where you were going, when you were going, or when you were coming back. You wouldn't talk to him, you wouldn't let him touch you.

Slowly, you answer him with single word sentences, mainly comprising of 'Yes' or 'No'. One night, you were planning on going out with the girls again, just to take the edge off for a night. "Where are you going?" Max asked, appearing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Out," you said, walking out of the door and closing it behind you. He didn't have the right to know.

When you got home, you composed yourself, making it look like you weren't slightly tipsy. "Where were you?" Max asked, sitting in the same chair he had sat in on the night if the argument. I hate you so fucking much.

"I was at my parent's," you lied. It was easier to lie to him, since he was more likely to believe you if you told him what he wanted to hear. The truth would just make him angry, and you didn't want to find out what he could say if he got that pissed off again.

"OK," he softly said, approaching you and wrapping his arms around you. This was a stark contrast to the man you were screaming at the other night. But you didn't want to fight anymore, it was tiring. "I love you, you know that," he said, as if he were telling you you knew, not asking if you knew.

"I love you too," you said, convincing yourself it was true. He was just looking out for you in the end, right? You decided you wouldn't be honest anymore, since he didn't like the truth. Ignorant bliss seemed much better right about now.

A/N - OK, this is a series that I'll be doing when I'm not writing requests and the like, so keep an eye out of the masterlist for it, which is linked down below! Keep any suggestions/request coming, I love them all!

|masterlist|five seconds flat|

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angels-fantasy · 17 days

Note

I was thinking what if Dad!Bakugous child was quirkless, and essentially was bullied the same way Midoriya had been, I feel like Bakugou would blame himself thinking that this was simply karma for the crap he did in Middle School no? Angst to Comfort pls

What Goes Around, Comes Around (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Details/Warnings: established relationship, reader is referred to as mom, CW: Children

Word Count: 995

hello thank you for your request! this was a little hard to write because i'm not very good at angst 🥲 so i hope you like it!

When Katsuki got with you, he knew you were quirkless. He knew that if he had a child with you they could potentially end up quirkless but he's grown up a lot over the years, so he didn't care.

But one thing he didn't know, was that his child would be bullied the same way he used to bully Izuku Midoriya.

When his son was declared quirkless, it was hard on the boy because he had a pro hero as a father, so there was so much pressure on him to be as great as Katsuki. But you and Katsuki made sure to tell him it was okay to be quirkless and he could still grow up to do great things and be successful. He had learned to accept that he didn't have a quirk, and that was okay.

Though now your son was in his first year of junior high, and you both could tell he was struggling with something, but you couldn't tell what it was exactly.

"Should we ask him what's wrong?" You asked Katsuki while you two were lying in bed together. It was night time, so your little family was getting ready to go to sleep.

Katsuki thought for a moment, "I don't know. I know it's good to let them talk to you when they're ready but he's been all quiet for fuckin' ever."

You frowned, "I think I'm gonna ask if he's feeling okay, and just make sure he knows he can talk to us."

He nodded and sat up, "I'll come with you."

The two of you got out of bed and walked to your son's bedroom, knocking on the door and waiting for him to give you the okay to go in, which he did.

"Hey baby." You said walking in. You and Katsuki sat next to each other at the foot of your son's bed that he was lying in.

"Hey." He said, now focusing on you guys instead of the TV.

You took a deep breath, "Are you feeling okay honey? We noticed you've been a little down, and we just want you to know you can always talk about how you're feeling."

Your son looked at you and sat up in bed, fiddling with his fingers. "I'm fine guys. I'm just tired-"

"Don't start with that, you know it's not true." Katsuki cut in, making you hit him lightly on the shoulder.

You crawled further onto the bed and hugged your son, waving Katsuki over to do the same.

Your son was quiet as you both hugged him, and then he spoke up. "Mom, were you ever bullied for being quirkless?"

You turned to face him quickly, eyebrows furrowed in worry. "Baby, are people bullying you at school?"

He looked away, "It's not a big deal-"

Katsuki cut in again, "Like hell it isn't a big deal. Who's fucking with you at school?"

You both listened as your son told you everything that another student in his class did to torment him, and it all sounded too familiar. Katsuki's face was pale, and he got up and walked away.

You stayed in your son's room and said, "Your dad just needs some space right now. You know he's a hothead, so he's gonna go calm down okay?" You felt bad lying to your son, because you knew the exact reason why Katsuki walked away.

The boy nodded, and he leaned into you as you held him. "Baby don't you ever think you're less than others just because you're quirkless. You're loved, and that's what matters, okay?" You said, to which he nodded.

"And I know sometimes it's hard for you, especially because of who your dad is. But you know he doesn't care about you becoming a pro hero. He just wants you to do what makes you happy, and so do I. So we're gonna talk to those teachers at school and maybe even that little shit's parents." You said, making him laugh.

"Thanks mom." He said.

"No problem baby. I want you to always tell us what's wrong, okay? Even Dad."

Your son nodded, and you kissed his forehead and wished him goodnight.

Walking into your bedroom, you saw Katsuki sitting at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. You closed the door behind you and went to sit next to him.

"I fucked up." He said, his voice hoarse. "This is my fault because I treated Deku like shit when we were kids, and now I'm getting my karma."

You frowned and hugged him, "Katsuki stop it. None of this is your fault. This is society's fault, that's it. People are always going to have a stigma about quirkless people."

He shook his head and cursed, "You don't understand. I told Deku to jump off a building, just because he was fuckin' quirkless! And now my kid is getting told the same shit!" He cried.

You didn't know what to say, so you continued hugging him and whispering comforting things to him. Reminding him that nothing that was happening now is his fault.

You held his face in your hands, "Hey, you know what, we should be glad he told us. Because you know Izuku didn't tell his mom, and because of that he suffered a lot more. But we just need to be there for our baby as much as we can right now, and tell that shithead kid to leave ours alone."

Katsuki nodded, "I know. I just can't help but feel like shit, because I was that bully once."

"Was." You emphasized, "You used to be, but not anymore. You've grown a lot since then, and you're a changed man now. So just remember that, okay?"

"Okay." He whispered.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, "I love you and our kid. Tomorrow, we'll let him stay home and have a family day."

He smiled lightly and nodded, "Yeah, okay. I love you too."

authors note

hope u liked it! love ya!

tag list for bakugou fics: @doumadono

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou x fem!reader #cw children #established relationship

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baldval · 1 month

Note

Hiii! How are ya? can I request Valentino x reader who works for vox? But not only do they work for him they have created a anime and game for it under him? So like they’re a well known manga artist type ting? So yeah they’re not a nobody basically

if not that’s fine! Have a good day/night dear :)

ART DECO PART 1!₊˚⊹♡

characters: valentino x gn!reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings: curse words, mentions of sex, making out, suggestive content.

a/n: i might do a part 2 if you guys like this!!

series masterlist!

You're bored.

To the exterior eye, working for THE Vox may be a dream. Cash, cars, designer clothes, big fancy functions filled with important hell-people and overlords. It sounds perfect.

It isn't. Between stupid rivalries, betrayals, and VERY dramatic bosses, being one of the top content producers for Vox is smothering work. But you'd rather have that than being nothing. At the very least, being so close to the Vees grants you protection.

This evening, you discover yourself at yet another 'emergency' call from Vox. Something something about losing views and how this most be the radio demon's fault. It's the 4th time this week.

You arrived at Vox's place, yet you can't really see him anywhere.

"Umm... Velvette" the girl looks up at you from the couch, unbothered.

"Watcha need sweetheart?" she moves her eyes back to her phone.

"Do you know where Vox is? He kinda called me on emergency basis? I'm not really sure what he need though."

"I have no idea where that shithead's been. He didn't even go to the last meeting with the overlords." She rolls her eyes. "He had to send me."

"Oh alright so no idea." You feel frustrated.

"You could of course ask Val"

"Did anyone say my name?" You smell him before he enters your eyeline. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells expensive. Not the faux, gawdy expensive like most men within Vox's circle, but truly extravagant.

"So dramatic." Velvette mumbles, eyes still on the screen.

You feel him before you turn around. He’s warm, and broad, and the crisp white material of his dress shirt is pressing into you. You gasp quietly at his boldness, praying that Velvette doesn't notice how close you are to him.

Valentino.

Vox's second in charge. Both an overlord and the owner of the largest movie studio. One of the greatest assholes in Hell.

The man you’re hopelessly in love with.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You truly hadn't meant for this to get this far.

Initially, it was sex. Brilliant, mid blowing, earth shattering sex.

Until it wasn't.

Now, it's late night phone calls and clandestine meetings and holding hands and apartment hunting and kisses on the forehead.

Now, it's genuine.

Vox would murder you if he found out.

You'd be shunned. Everything you'd worked for. Everything you'd created. Suddenly you don't exist. It's all Vox's.

If there was one thing you liked about your deal with Vox was the fact that he allowed your things to be yours.

People knew what you had created and they knew it was created by you.

You didn't want to lose that.

Essentially, it'd be worse than hell, which you're already in. So why do you keep finding yourself considering it?

You’ve never been loved like this. So total, so complete, so all consuming. So unconditional.

And it's true that Valentino has nothing to lose. If Vox finds out, he won't be affected at all.

But he keeps it a secret.

And you're pretty sure you know why.

You wake up to kiss him all over his face. You dance within the kitchen, as he spins you around in your socks. You see how he stares at you when in a meeting, analysing your face.

You ran into love headfirst, impulsively. Would you have slept with Valentino that night, well over a year ago, if you'd have known this is how it'd turn out? You're not sure. But all you know is that, right now, the risk is more than worth it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"You with me, sweetheart?" he mumbles into your ear, warm breath raising the hairs on your neck.

"Yeah, Val," you murmur back, trying to keep a neutral expression on your face. "I'm here."

"Where did you go, huh?"

His fingers travel down your neck, drawing little figures on your back.

"Just daydreaming," you answer.

"About what?" he asks teasingly, caressing your skin in delicate movements. Back, forth. Back, forth. He's making it difficult to concentrate.

“You,” you whisper discreetly. He you loud and clear. “Always you.”

He needs to kiss you. God, he needs to kiss you. He needs to grab your face and smash his lips to yours, consequences be damned. He wants to pick you up and twirl you around and scream "look at the woman I love!"

Instead, his fingers tighten around your waist. He looks around carefully before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below your ear. Then, he moves to stand in front of you. To anyone else, it looks like two colleagues having a conversation.

"You look so fuckin' wonderful in that dress," he tells you, his voice bound with sincerity and admiration. His eyes are raking up and down your frame. The heat of his gaze making you warm.

"You don’t look so bad yourself," you tease. That’s an understatement. His suit fits him like a glove, perfectly tailored to all of his curves. It’s all crisp edges and careful lines. He’s wearing the cufflinks you got him for his birthday, the ones engraved with the both of your initials. The letters are small, tucked away on the underside. No one knows they’re there – your little secret.

Valentino winks at you as you stand up, going to take a step forward, but a hand on your arm stops you.

"Vox was aking where you were. The meeting already started, come on." Vox's assistant acompanies you towards Vox's office.

As you walk through the lobby you whisper to Velvette.

"No idea he was in his office, huh?" perhaps you were trying your luck, but in all honesty, Vox had pretty much as much respect for Velvette as he had for you.

"Do you think I care where that asshole is? I'm not his nanny." She talks back, louder, so that you can hear her as you enter the door.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

There's a pull between you and Val. It's like a magnetic force, dragging you together no matter where you are , or what you're doing. You're feeling it within the dull board gatherings. You feel it in the dull 'Vees Team' gatherings. You feel it at the functions he’s reluctantly invited to by Vox. You feel it now, as you try not fall asleep at Vox's words of how you all should double the work and double the content. He says that as if animating was that easy.

You allow your mind to drift away, dreaming of what awaits you later tonight. You can picture it perfectly. You and Val, curled up in bed, his penthouse bedroom illuminated by candlelight. Glasses of wine discarded on the night stand, sheets thrown across the mattress, legs tangled together. Skin pressed to skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Gentle melodies filling the room, the man underneath you humming softly into your ear. If this is hell, you’ll think. then it might just be better than heaven.

The second you get out of the meeting, you feel his eyes on you. Heat prickles over your skin, goosebumps rising. It's kinda like a 6th sense, this quiet communication between you. You capture his gaze and wink, and you swear you see him blush slightly. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and gestures in the direction of the door. You get the hint, and follow him, trailingly behind subtly.

You reach the corridor and look around, but Valentino is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, you feel a warm grip grab your hips, pressing you into the wall.

"Been holding up to urge my hands on you all night," he mumbles into your ear.

He's trailing his fingers up and down your sides. You can feel him, hot and difficult behind you, groaning as he bites at your throat. He kisses the hinge of your jaw, and after that your cheek. It's forbidden and it's provocative and it's so tender it makes your knees wobble.

"Come to my room," he begs. "Vox is so distracted with that Radio Demon that he won't realise."

The offer is tempting. So, so tempting. But there's currently so many people in the Vees' house. Any of them could see you enter the same room… suspicions arise. As easy as it would be to just say fuck it and tell everyone, your survival instinct tells you it wouldn't be the best idea. You want to stay in this little bubble of warmth and love and trust a little longer.

You want to stay happy a little longer.

“We can’t,” you whine. “Someone might notice.”

"I don’t give a fuck," he replies.

"Of course you don't."

"You shouldn’t either."

You want to disagree, but the way he’s moved his hand to sit at your throat while pressing himself into you is making it hard to think.

"Live a little, baby," he teases, nipping at your ear.

"Fine! Fuck, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer window ornaments. You're resting comfortably on Val's chest, both of his solid arms wrapped around you. You yawn languidly.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You push Valentino carefully, waking him up.

"There's someone banging at your door," you whisper.

He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He puts on a pair of boxers, and moves towards the door.

You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Valentino’s attention so determinedly.

The door swings open.

"Vox?" he questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.

“Hey Val. Did you see where the fuck y/n went to?”

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