#I LET YOU BABYSIT FOR LIKE A WEEK AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-au-thor · 3 days ago

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A la velocidad de la Luz | pt.1 | Steve Harrington x Reader

A/N: Heyyy, I’ve got a lot to do, but I’m kinda tired. English isn’t my first language, so I usually have to translate my fanfics. Just wanted to drop this post so you guys know the tragic thing that happened to me 😩. I’m working on translating Babysitting Munson ASAP to update it soon. Sorry for the delay! 💔

Summary: Steve and you seem like you’re friends? And he seems super observant. You need him, and he knows it. Let’s see how you fall for him and what Steve Harrington’s love language is.

Trigger Warning: click here

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Steve recognized the signs as soon as he saw you that movie night on Friday.

After the traumatic events you all had endured, it was only natural that you formed an almost unbreakable bond. A connection that linked the fancy house in the upscale neighborhood with the humble trailer from the wrong side of the tracks. A bond that defied logic, bringing together different ages, circumstances, and tastes into a group that religiously gathered every Friday to binge on popcorn and watch horror films. Afterward, everyone would stay over because, for some reason, no one wanted to go home or be apart. You all needed each other to keep going, though it wasn’t something anyone would openly admit. It was an unspoken agreement, one everyone was perfectly fine with.

This constant practice of coexisting made Steve more observant. He had discovered he genuinely enjoyed taking care of others and that his complaints about it were just part of a ritual. Dustin would insist he absolutely needed to go somewhere, and only Steve could take him. After grumbling, insisting he wasn’t a babysitter, and complaining about wasting his time, Steve would grab his keys and drive him wherever he needed to go. He could predict stomachaches after the kids devoured too much candy and was always ready with antacids and chicken soup. He broke up bar fights at The Hideout to make sure Corroded Coffin’s gigs didn’t get ruined, and Hopper didn’t get unnecessary calls. He had been there for Robin, Nancy, Argyle, Jonathan, and each of the kids. Maybe that’s why Hopper had suggested police academy. And maybe that’s why Steve felt like all of you were the reason he wasn’t that lost kid with a terrible social life anymore, unsure of what to do with his future.

You glanced at him with a small smile during the bathroom break Nancy had enforced after Dustin got a UTI from holding it during Freddy’s killings scenes.

“What?” you asked, tossing a handful of popcorn into your mouth as you turned to face him.

Steve didn’t know you well before Hawkins’ catastrophic events pulled you all together. You were Robin’s friend in high school and worked with Nancy on the school paper. You admitted you didn’t share Nancy’s reporter spirit—you just liked writing and thought being on the paper would look good on a college application. He vaguely remembered seeing you at some parties because Vicky’s twin brother, Justin Carmichael, had tried to date you. Steve recalled Justin whining for a week about how he’d taken you to the best party of the year, and you hadn’t even let him get to first base. Deep down, Steve was glad. Justin Carmichael was an idiot, as dumb as Steve had once been.

After graduation, you met again during the last Hawkins disaster, which almost none of you survived. You were attending Indiana University during the week, but you came home on weekends because, unlike Steve’s parents, yours genuinely loved having you around and cared about your interests. That explained your nurturing, always-ready-to-listen demeanor. Steve thought it wasn’t surprising he hadn’t noticed you before. The old Steve wouldn’t have looked twice at someone like you because he’d been a selfish idiot back then. He’d proved it with Nancy and had to suffer a lot before proving to himself he was more than what his parents or old friends expected of him.

“You okay?” Steve asked, hearing Lucas and Max whispering as they kissed on a couch in the back.

Robin was in the kitchen, microwaving more popcorn while Nancy caught her up on her long-distance relationship with Jonathan. Steve always knew they’d make it work; they were just that kind of couple. Dustin had gone to the bathroom, while Will laughed at Mike and El’s petty argument, which Eddie occasionally fueled with sarcastic commentary.

You held Steve’s gaze for a moment before nodding. “Of course. Finally on break. I missed not having to pack every weekend,” you said with a small smile. “And I’ll get a break from Professor Lewis’s lectures.”

Steve winced. “Still giving you a hard time?”

You nodded. “To the last second of class. I don’t know how I’ll get through next year if he keeps this up. I have no idea what I did to him.”

Steve frowned. “Some people are just bitter, you know? Maybe he’s jealous of how talented you are.”

You wrinkled your nose, letting out a dry laugh. “He’s a Times writer. Jealous? Please.”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe he sees something in you he’ll never have. Adults project their crap onto younger people all the time.”

You studied him in silence, popping another piece of popcorn into your mouth before asking, “How’s your dad taking you being the first in the academy by the way?”

Steve let out a short laugh. “Oh, he’s thrilled. Especially since Hopper was basically his nemesis in high school when they were both on the basketball team.” He took two big sips of Coke.

You smirked. “Speaking of adults who project…”

Steve chuckled, watching you dig through your bag for your medication. He remembered the first time you’d shown everyone your pills. It was after closing the gate for good, when the government stashed you in a fancy hotel while cleaning up Hawkins—and Eddie’s reputation. You were safe for the first time in ages, but none of you could sleep. You’d been holed up in that hotel suite for 24 hours, ordering the most expensive food on the menu and playing video games nonstop. But when Eddie spent three hours curled up on his bed without actually resting, you’d had enough.

Steve had watched as you stood up, turned off the TV, and took Argyle’s pasta tray. No one even had the energy to protest. You stood in your hotel robe, exhaustion in your eyes, and declared, “All right. I’m about to do something I shouldn’t, and you have to promise not to tell your parents. Yes, Erica, I mean you specifically,” you said, leveling a stern gaze at her. Then, you started handing out small capsules to everyone except Erica, who got melatonin gummies.

“What’s this?” Dustin asked, sniffing the pill.

“These are my sleeping pills,” you explained calmly. “They’re mild, but you guys haven’t slept in days. So here’s the deal: we’re going to pretend I’m not breaking the law here. Everyone will take one—trust me, the dose is low—and don’t freak out if you taste something bitter. And you all have to promise to see a doctor after this, because what we’ve been through isn’t normal, and you need help.”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. He swallowed his pill, got into bed, and wished everyone goodnight. One by one, the kids followed, and Steve helped you and Robin dim the lights as everyone found a spot to sleep.

In the quiet, Steve had whispered, “Didn’t know you took sleeping pills.”

You’d hesitated, then admitted, “I started having panic attacks when I was 15. They diagnosed me with PTSD because I...well, went through some shit as a kid. There were too many sleepless nights—it wrecked everything. The pills help.” Your voice was steady, but Steve could hear the pain beneath your words. “With therapy and support, it gets better. These pills are nothing compared to what I used to take. It’s like I got a piece of myself back.”

“Thanks for sharing that. You’re strong, you know?” Steve said, his voice soft with sleep.

Your hand had reached across Robin to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Goodnight, Steve.”

Now, watching you down two capsules, Steve frowned. “Two? That’s new.”

You nodded, taking a sip of water. “I’ve been having issues with my dosage. I’ll see the doctor over break and get it sorted.”

Steve’s brows furrowed with concern. “Want me to come with you?”

You shook your head with a quick smile. “And have you waiting an hour while my psychiatrist goes through my baggage? No thanks. But I appreciate it.”

Steve leaned back into the couch, his eyes not leaving you. “Offer stands, though.”

You smiled, genuinely touched. “Thanks.”

Eddie chose that moment to plop down between you and Steve, flashing a mischievous grin at his friend as he wedged into the space. Steve rolled his eyes, resigned, and focused on the movie. But even during the tensest scenes, he couldn’t help but glance at you, his worry lingering. Despite the pills, you didn’t yawn once.

The next morning, you were the first one up, already showered and dressed in your athletic shorts and oversized The Clash T-shirt, making breakfast for the sleepyheads still sprawled out on the couch and carpet, snoring away. Nancy was the next to join you, followed by Robin and Argyle.

Steve eventually got up too, greeting the early risers with a groggy smile before heading to his room for a quick shower. He came back downstairs to help out, finding Nancy making waffles while you focused on the eggs. Taking the initiative, he filled the coffee maker with his dad’s favorite blend—a coffee the man rarely drank himself since he was hardly ever home.

"Shouldn't we wake them up?" Nancy asked as she flipped another waffle onto the stack. "I mean, they were the ones so excited about going to the lake."

“Sis, it’s vacation time; you can’t go all dictator on them. They’ll wake up when they do,” Argyle murmured in his usual laid-back tone.

Nancy huffed but didn’t argue with his logic. Instead, she piled the waffles on a platter and leaned against Steve’s kitchen island, looking at you.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

You had stayed silent, focused on the eggs, your gaze lost in the pan. You nodded, flipping the eggs once before turning off the stove. Turning to Nancy with a smile, you replied, “I’m fine. Have you had it rough at school?”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “I swear, if I have to do group projects again, I’m going to lose it,” she grumbled, prompting a chuckle from Eddie, who was lounging amidst the cushions, watching everyone.

“Come on, Wheeler,” Eddie laughed. “You’ve worked with us, and that’s turned out fine. What could be worse?”

Robin walked past him, tossing her black cardigan—full of intentional holes Eddie had made to make it look “metal”—onto his face. As Eddie pulled it off, Robin raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t you have any shame, Munson?”

Steve let out a mocking laugh as he poured coffee into a couple of mugs.

“Yeah, dude. What’s up with stripping in the middle of the night?”

Eddie struggled to get dressed and clumsily got up from the couch.

“Well, next time, you share a couch on a hot summer night with Henderson, okay?” he grumbled, glancing over at Dustin, who was still sleeping soundly with his mouth open. Eddie threw a blanket at him, yelling, “Wake up!”

Dustin jolted awake, looking alarmed, but calmed down when he saw that everyone was fine and the worst thing that had happened was the drool stain on one of the cushions of Steve’s parents’ sofa. Steve slowly approached the couch, picking up the stained cushion, glaring at Dustin with a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

“Dude, this sofa is worth thousands of dollars. My mom is going to lose it when she sees this,” he protested, tossing the cushion at Dustin, who wasn’t fazed by the scolding and instead smirked, even looking proud of himself as he sprawled back on the couch.

Steve’s house was chaotic for the next few minutes. Forks scraped against the plates, definitely leaving marks Steve’s mom would notice. Eddie, in particular, was too aggressive cutting his bacon. Nancy ensured everything was washed in an orderly manner, arguing it was better to clean up now than be too exhausted to deal with it later. You, Robin, and Steve followed her lead without question because no one wanted to argue with Nancy Wheeler. Meanwhile, Argyle, Eddie, and Jonathan dried and put everything away. The kids prepared for an afternoon at the lake.

When you all arrived, everyone spread out on lounge chairs and oversized towels, and most of the group dove straight into the water. Steve watched as you approached with a bottle of sunscreen, making everyone apply it to their backs, arms, faces, and shoulders—even amid Mike’s small protests about it being unnecessary.

You all swam for a while, ate popsicles, and held little swimming races. Steve faked a cramp so Dustin could win one of the races. Steve didn’t know you had noticed, but you did, smiling quietly at his small act of kindness.

Steve wasn’t the type to open up emotionally in front of a group—that was more Eddie’s style. He wouldn’t stand in the middle of a bonfire to confess how much he cared about everyone, but moments like this made him incredibly happy. He had always been alone but hadn’t realized it was a problem until he met all of you. Now, under the warm, glowing sun near the horizon, he could quietly admire the happiness of being surrounded by friends.

The kids were still splashing around with Robin, Eddie, and Argyle. Jonathan and Nancy swam further out, exchanging kisses and chatting softly. You gave Will a hug, kissed his cheek, and playfully squished the other one, making him laugh before he gently pushed you away. Then, you splashed water at his face and messed up his hair, swimming back toward the shore with strong strokes. When your feet reached the rocky bottom, you waded out, grabbed the towel next to Steve, and flopped onto it to dry off in the sun.

Steve watched you push your wet hair to one side through his sunglasses, noticing the tiny water droplets glistening on your skin before disappearing or evaporating. Silently, you put on your sunglasses, pulled out one of the books you always carried, and began to read. He observed your fingers flipping through the pages and the way your tongue peeked out between your lips as you concentrated on finding your place in the story. Smiling to himself, he adjusted his position on the towel and let out a contented sigh, soaking up the warmth of the sun.

“Can you imagine a man with an extraordinary sense of smell who starts killing people to extract the essence of the young women he murders?” you suddenly broke the silence, your eyes still on the book.

Steve frowned, amused. “No, but I mean… it’s not like we haven’t seen worse things than humans killing each other,” he replied with sarcasm, making you chuckle softly.

“Fair enough,” you said, wetting your finger to turn the page.

Steve cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably before turning toward you.

“Hey, I think you need to be careful with Will.”

That made you glance at him over the top of your sunglasses. Even though he couldn’t see your eyes directly, he could feel the weight of your gaze.

“Why? Is he going around sniffing people and plotting murders?”

Steve frowned. “What? No! What are you talking about?”

You set your book down on your stomach and gave him your full attention.

“Oh, no, it’s just that we were talking about the book, and then you mentioned Will… Having to explain a joke makes it tedious, doesn’t it?” you laughed, letting out a sigh of frustration as if suddenly feeling clumsy and awkward. “What’s going on with Will?”

Steve scratched the back of his neck, trying to piece his words together logically. Internally, he regretted starting the conversation without thinking it through.

“I don’t know. I think he might… maybe… have feelings for you. It’s not your fault; you’re just kind to him,” he paused, struggling to clarify his point. “I just think he might be misinterpreting things a little…”

You slid your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to meet his eyes directly.

“Are you saying Will Byers has a little crush on me?” you asked slowly, wanting to avoid any misunderstanding.

Steve shifted uncomfortably, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing the tip of his nose. His eyes darted away from yours.

“Maybe,” was all he managed to say.

You adjusted your sunglasses back into place and smiled calmly before picking up your book again.

“Will doesn’t have a crush on me, Steve. At least not on me. Trust me, I know,” you reassured him softly, giving him one last glance. “Really.”

Steve didn’t know it, but you understood his concern all too well. There was a reason why you and Will were so close, why your relationship had deepened over time. It had as much to do with Will’s feelings as it didn’t. It wasn’t something you could explain—it wasn’t your story to tell.

You’d noticed something different about Will months ago, even before the Byers family moved to California. But you weren’t exactly friends back then. You’d tutored him a few times, but that didn’t give you the right to pry into his life. When the Byers returned to Hawkins, Will had become even quieter, more withdrawn, and solitary, even when surrounded by the group. You couldn’t help but get involved, especially the day Joyce called to ask if you could spare an hour on weekends to help Will with his English essays. He’d been losing focus more and more. Joyce’s sensitive side wanted to intervene, but her rational side told her to give him time to readjust.

That phone call left you worried for the rest of the week. By Saturday, when you saw it for yourself, you understood. The distraction in Will’s eyes wasn’t about being somewhere else, far from the room where you were trying to help him write an essay his teacher assigned to boost his grade. No, it was deeper. He was trapped inside himself, locked in a cell whose door was wide open, yet he was both comfortable and terrified to leave.

You remembered noticing an old school project from California tucked away under a pile of canvases. The drawings were incredible—realistic and impressionistic depictions of massive dragons and knights in shining armor wielding swords. The project itself was about Alan Turing, and the dedication in his work caught your attention. Dusting it off, you showed it to him, pointing out its potential.

“This is the Will I want to see in school,” you’d said.

When you looked up, you saw his eyes glisten with unshed tears, and that’s when you knew something was deeply wrong. The essay was forgotten as you sat beside him and took his hands. You promised to keep anything he shared in confidence and let him speak.

You’d never heard Will talk so much. His words surprised you—how he’d hidden his pain so well, how deeply rooted his loneliness had become. He was just a kid, experiencing his first heartbreak. The worst part? You couldn’t promise it would be his last. Life wasn’t going to be easy for him, and his future looked rocky at best. From that day on, you made sure to be there for him whenever he needed you. You even started planning a trip to the MET to fuel his enthusiasm for art.

Being the youngest sibling in your family, with three older brothers, you’d never really known what it was like to look after someone else until you met the kids. It made you happy to ensure everyone was okay. Now, you wanted to make sure Will had a good summer, that his heart healed, and that one day he’d meet a kind boy who could help pick up the pieces and mend whatever hate he might encounter.

It was pretty late by the time everyone decided to head home. The kids were dropped off at the Wheeler’s for a sleepover. Eddie invited the rest of you—Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Robin, and yourself—to one of his Corroded Coffin rehearsals at The Hideout. You were about to agree when Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling.

“We’ve got plans,” he said casually.

You blinked at him in confusion, but when his hand pressed softly at your side, you went along with it. You all said goodbye outside the bar, and then you climbed into Steve’s car, curiosity buzzing inside you. Once both seatbelts were fastened, you turned to him.

“So... what exactly are these plans?”

“I was thinking we could do something. Just you and me.”

A date? you wondered, maybe naively. Steve Harrington and you, alone without the rest of the group? You couldn’t recall a single time you’d hung out with him one-on-one. Well, except that one time when you brought cookies to the academy.

He’d passed all his physical training exams, and you knew his parents wouldn’t bother to congratulate him. You’d organized a celebration with the gang, but you also wanted to do something special. You made his favorite cookies—crispy ones with cinnamon, caramel, and peanuts—and met him during his lunch break. He must’ve just finished a workout because the ends of his hair were still damp, and he was wearing shorts and a tank top. His skin glistened with drops of water his cheeks still flushed. A towel hung loosely around his neck, and he used one end to dab at his temple.

You’d been waiting for him in the reception area, a bright smile plastered across your face. Later that night, when intrusive thoughts came uninvited, you’d wondered if you’d looked like a lunatic standing there, grinning like that.

“What’s this?” Steve had asked, half-smiling as he eyed the box in your hands.

“Congrats on passing your physical exam,” you’d replied, holding the box out to him.

His expression shifted—gratitude mixed with something softer, sadder. Then, unexpectedly, he hugged you. You’d hugged before, usually after some life-threatening adventure, but this was different. His chin rested on your shoulder as his hands rubbed gently between your shoulder blades. You heard him sigh and thank you in a voice barely above a whisper.

When he pulled back, you were still on tiptoes, his hands resting on your shoulders. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and it felt like there was something unsaid between you. But it passed so quickly that you didn’t dwell on it. You never visited him at the academy again, despite having more than one excuse to. You weren’t sure why, but you felt the need to protect yourself, so you avoided being alone with Steve, steering clear of situations where the two of you might end up without the others around.

When you arrived at his house, a strange feeling washed over you. Steve must’ve noticed your furrowed brow or how you hesitated to leave the car, staring cautiously at the house. He walked around to your side, opened your door, and smiled at you in a way that inspired trust.

“There’s something I want to show you inside,” he said, holding out his hand.

You half-smiled, unsure how to feel—curious, maybe a little apprehensive. Taking his hand, you stepped out of the car and followed him to the door. His fingers stayed securely wrapped around yours, his thumb drawing calming circles on your palm every so often.

The house was just as you’d left it, except for a pillow slightly out of place on the expensive sofa. Steve led you upstairs, past strategically placed family photos his mom had hung. One, in particular, caught your attention—a studio portrait with a standard blue background and cartoonish clouds. In the middle was a baby in a sailor outfit, smiling wide.

You couldn’t help but grin. “Is that you?”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, it’s me. What, you don’t like it?”

“I love it. Did you ever wish you had siblings?”

Steve glanced at you curiously but nodded. “Yeah, I did. My parents didn’t want more kids, though. By the time they changed their minds, it was too late. My dad says it’s because of my mom, but we all know better.”

You winced, recalling the one time you’d met Mr. Harrington. He’d introduced himself as Mr. Harrington, like he’d adopted the title as his first name. He seemed the type to blame his wife for his own failings.

“I always wanted younger siblings,” you murmured, running your finger lightly along the banister. “I guess now I’ve got some.”

“Yeah, and they’re a pain,” Steve grumbled, stopping outside a closed door and turning to look at you.

You smiled nervously. He was looking at you like that. What were you supposed to do? Shrugging, you muttered, “They’re not that bad.”

Steve’s gaze held yours, his brown eyes warm and unguarded in a way you didn’t see often. Then he slipped into the room and shut the door behind him, leaving you to fidget in the hallway. A moment later, he reappeared, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve got something for you on the other side of this door,” he announced before pushing it open.

The guest room came into view, its blackout curtains drawn over the massive windows overlooking the Harringtons’ backyard. The faint sound of ocean waves played from hidden speakers, and the air was scented with lavender from candles scattered around. The bed was immaculately made, piled with soft pillows and clean sheets.

You glanced at Steve, confused. “Uh, you could at least offer me coffee first, Steve. Just saying.”

He laughed, the sound light and genuine. “If I wanted that, I’d spring for something fancier than coffee. Give me some credit.”

Still grinning, he stepped inside and handed you a neatly folded set of pajamas.

“Seriously, though—this is an intervention.”

You stood frozen in the doorway, eyeing the clothes in your hands. The soft fabric slid beneath your fingers as you frowned. “An intervention for what?”

Steve’s smile widened. “Glad you asked.”

He gestured to the pajamas. “I’m gonna run you a bath. My mom’s got all these fancy bath salts that are supposed to transport you to another dimension or something. You’re gonna relax, put on those pajamas, and sleep. You’ve been burning yourself out. It’s bad for the soul. It’s bad for my soul, too, having to watch it.”

You blinked, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “You’re being sweet.”

“I’m always sweet,” he quipped, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re just finally paying attention.”

"Steve; What...?" You shook your head quickly, trying to make the confusion vanish as if by magic. "I don’t understand."

Steve placed his hands on your shoulders and looked directly into your eyes.

"You haven’t slept in months; you’re not fooling me. You said it’s been hard to sleep, but I know it’s more than that. You’ve been really stressed out, and when that happens, insomnia, panic attacks, negative thoughts, and the need to isolate yourself start creeping in. I’ve seen it. So let’s try to avoid that, and for that, I’ve made a sleep bomb. I just need your cooperation. Can we do that?"

You looked at him, trying to read his expression. It surprised you that Steve had noticed the signs of distress in you. You hadn’t wanted to alert anyone, not even your parents, who had already gone through it with you more than once. You didn’t want to make them suffer. You didn’t want to tell them that when you were in college, the only thing you thought about when you weren’t studying or trying to avoid getting on Professor Lewis’s bad side was going back to Hawkins; being with them, your friends, your family. You didn’t want to tell them that you had returned to that dark place, where you would lie awake for those long nights, desperate and crying, wondering what it would feel like to sleep forever, to wake up when everything hurt less. From time to time, your mind would take you there. You knew it was just a phase that would pass with time, but the uncertainty of when or how long it would last was another nail in the torture of your burden. That Steve hadn’t needed any words of help from you to notice meant both a surprise and a terror to you. Surprising because you didn’t think he’d even notice; he was busy with the enormous house his parents hardly lived in, taking care of the younger kids, going through the academy trials while trying to navigate his way through the hordes of renewed fangirls who had returned to their admiration and flirtation exercises. Did he even have room for you in his schedule? You knew he was a friend, but honestly, you had hung out more with Nancy, Robin, and Eddie—shopping, going to the movies, and attending concerts—than you ever had wandering aimlessly around downtown with Steve. Of all the people in your group, Steve was honestly the last person you thought would notice your silent cries for help. And yet here he was, in front of you. At some point, he’d gone out of his way to set up an entire room, light candles, and have a bed that looked too inviting, along with soft satin pajamas, neatly folded for you.

It felt like your lungs had swallowed all the air in the room, and the oxygen only reached you in the form of a soft, weak "thank you" that slipped from your lips in a breathless tone. Steve seemed to appreciate that small effort of gratitude, and something in his eyes softened for a moment. He gently squeezed your shoulders, then stepped away to turn on the faucet, filling the tub with wonderfully hot water. When you tested it moments later, your body relaxed entirely, and your muscles seemed to thank the heat. You tilted your head back as your toes curled in delight. You were sure the salts had done little more than make your skin feel soft, but the pleasant scent had helped you unwind. When you decided it was enough, only because the water had begun to cool and your fingers were starting to wrinkle, you got out of the tub, dried off, and slipped into the soft, comfortable satin pajamas—a beautiful mahogany color that smelled like detergent and fabric softener.

It was paradise. That’s what you thought when you came downstairs to find the table set with iced tea, a salad, and two plates piled high with spaghetti bolognese.

Steve didn’t know how to cook anything else; he could barely make waffles, and his eggs were always dry. But if there was one thing Steve Harrington couldn’t mess up, it was a homemade plate of pasta. You honestly couldn’t understand why he’d never shown off that skill to his dates; you were sure by now Steve Harrington had been off the market for a long time. Part of you—one part you tried not to visit often—wished that little piece of Steve, the one you and the boys knew, would stay in the shadows. Then you’d feel selfish for wanting that. You knew Steve felt lonely, and he deserved to find someone. As you twirled pasta onto your fork, you knew that much because the pasta was delicious, and he had taken the time to make it himself.

You would’ve liked to keep eating, but you knew it was greedy. Steve got up and led you to the room, handing you a long list of reasons why he wouldn’t let you clean, tidy, or do the dishes—starting with the fact that this was all part of an intervention he had orchestrated.

"What’s wrong?" Steve asked when you settled into bed, pulling the cover over yourself.

"Every night I try this, Steve," you said. "I try to relax, close my eyes, and sleep, and I really want to do it now, but I can’t..."

Steve rubbed his nose thoughtfully and nodded as he sat down next to you, ready to listen.

"Look at you," he murmured. "You’re worried because you think you won’t be able to sleep, and that’s exactly why you won’t."

You shook your head. "It’s not that, seriously, Steve. It’s just that I know myself. I know, and it’s maddening. You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent staring at the ceiling, feeling like my body just needs to move. It’s physically impossible for me to lie in a bed, no matter how comfortable it is."

"It’s okay," Steve nodded, thoughtful. "I have an idea. Do you remember when we were watching over Max, making sure Vecna wouldn’t take her at the Wheeler house?" You nodded. "Yeah, Dustin wouldn’t stop talking, and God knows I couldn’t shut him up, so I just gave in and listened to his annoying voice all night. And suddenly—boom! I wake up, and it’s morning."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You fell asleep during your shift watching over Max?"

"Hey, Henderson was still awake, plus nothing happened, right?"

You opened your mouth in disbelief. "Something could’ve happened, Steve."

"But it didn’t!" he laughed, trying to defend himself. "But that’s not the point. The point is, I fell asleep." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms while still sitting in bed. Steve had to admit you looked adorable trying to lecture him about his irresponsibility. "I slept like a damn baby with Dustin’s voice."

You raised an eyebrow, finally understanding.

"So, are you telling me that this whole time, all I’ve needed is Dustin’s voice to sleep soundly?"

"No," he replied, pointing a finger at you with a victorious smile. "My voice, baby. My voice will make you sleep like a baby tonight." He then stood up and motioned for you to settle back into bed. You looked at him, hiding a laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, right now you think it’s funny, but when you wake up in the morning feeling rested, I’ll have the decency not to tell you it was all because of me."

You smiled, adjusting your hair.

"Oh, Steve, thanks so much, that’s so thoughtful of you," you laughed, but the laugh quickly died when you saw Steve start to settle in next to you in bed. He lay on his side, propping his head up with his hand to look at you.

"What are you doing?"

"I’m just gonna settle in next to you and talk to you. The only rule is, you can’t talk; you’ll close your eyes and listen to my voice."

Bossy.

You nodded silently and closed your eyes. You heard Steve sigh, but you didn’t look at him again. After all, he’d gone to all this trouble, so you would cooperate. You’d do your part.

And then Steve started talking. He talked for at least an hour about his life, his parents, and what he wanted to do in the future, once he graduated and became a cop, taking care of the town again with Hopper as his boss. Damn, it would be hard to follow the old man’s orders, but he’d accept the challenge. He didn’t stop, even when your breathing became rhythmic, signaling you were finally falling asleep. Steve didn’t stop watching you, stretching out his arm to turn down the volume on the ambient noise. He kept watching you as the sound of crickets filtered in from the backyard, blending with the croaking of frogs in a whispered melody.

He couldn’t stop looking at you.

Steve watched your eyelashes brush your cheeks. The air moved in and out through your slightly parted lips as you breathed. He looked at your nose, tracing imaginary lines over your face, following them with his gaze as if he were redrawing you. It wasn’t fair that you couldn’t rest; that it was so hard for you. Steve had seen you sleep soundly in the most difficult places and under the most critical circumstances. You were perfect under pressure. Something told him you’d rather face Vecna as an enemy than any internal demon haunting your mind. He’d seen more fear on your face at the thought of another sleepless night than when one of the Demodogs that attacked Hopper’s old cabin had pinned you down and drooled over your face as if deciding how you’d taste.

Steve struck him right in the middle of the neck with his bat, not stopping until Dustin told him the guy was more than dead, impaled on the wooden floor. He didn’t know it then, but he would’ve killed any monster for you. Even the one that lived tormenting you in your mind.

"Thanks," he finally spoke, reaching out with his other hand to stroke your hair. "You’ve always looked out for us, and that’s an understatement," he admitted. "I think you try so hard because you haven’t been able to take care of yourself the way you should," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across your face. "Don’t worry; I’ll take care of you."

You had made everyone fulfill their promise in the hotel room. They’d each been given separate rooms, but trauma unifies, and no one could stand to be apart; everyone gathered in Eddie’s room and spent hours together. Afterward, when things calmed down and they were interviewed by men in black suits with serious expressions, they were sent to a high-security clinic where Owen was waiting to perform physical exams. None of the scars had fully healed; Eddie had to get skin grafts on his abdomen, and Max had to undergo rehabilitation to walk normally again.

"It’s not enough," you told Owen when he gave everyone the all-clear with prescriptions for the best free medicine. The man raised his gaze from his clipboard to look at you through his glasses. "We need therapy."

"Kid..." Hopper’s tired voice came from behind you, but you stopped him firmly.

"No," you turned to face him and then looked at Owen for a few seconds. "He smelled like a distillery even before the first Demogorgon attack," you reminded everyone. "How do you think he’ll be once all the adrenaline from this is gone? Hopper needs therapy. We all do. Max almost lost her eyesight; Eddie came back from the dead. You can’t say everything’s fine and send us back to a town where everyone will keep judging us, no matter what." Owen opened his mouth, but you weren’t ready to stop speaking. "You weren’t there. You don’t know what we went through. We literally prevented a dimensional-level catastrophe that wasn’t our responsibility, Owen. We’re owed."

Truth be told, none of you, except you, thought therapy was a good idea. A monster had used your worst nightmares and traumas to get rid of you. You didn’t want to have to open your heart to another stranger once a week, only for them to take advantage of it. But you had been firm in making everyone stick to the commitment, and against all odds, they agreed and completed their therapy sessions as they should. Even Mike, who had resisted extreme measures to the heart-to-heart talk his therapist suggested, finally gave in. You had earned the trust of those kids, Steve saw it. And he had to admit that was part of the reason he sometimes felt jealous. It was pathetic to admit it—an adult jealous of kids—but damn, it would feel nice if one day one of those hugs you gave to Will Byers was meant for him.

"You’re going to a lot of trouble for her," Dustin told Steve the next morning while chewing loudly on a raspberry.

"Hey human vacuum, stop eating someone else’s breakfast. This isn’t for us."

"You see? This is what I mean! I could be planning a new D&D campaign that would surprise Eddie, and he’d be kissing my ass for the next decade, but here I am helping you impress a girl."

"It’s not to impress her; she finally slept more than eight hours and needs to eat," Steve began to answer while pouring some of Robin’s pancake mix onto the hot pan. "And let me remind you, I’m the one driving thousands of miles so you and your ‘Phoebe Cates-level’ sexy girlfriend—who, by the way, I seriously doubt—can see each other. So, I’d appreciate it if you stopped eating her food and helped me with this like I asked."

Dustin furrowed his brow but kept adding raspberries to the batter anyway.

"You know? I always thought you and Robin had something," Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. "Then, for a moment, I thought you and Nancy would get back together from the way you stupidly stared at her. But now this makes more sense."

Steve took a little bit of the batter that splashed on his finger and tasted it.

"Yeah? Why’s that?"

Dustin, focused on his work, shrugged.

"When you and Robin are together, you joke like you, and I do, and I refuse to think you're into me."

Steve made a disgusted face.

"Gross, man, stop."

"That, and when you looked at Nancy, you suffered, Steve. You were the saddest, most miserable..."

"Don’t be so kind, you’ll make me cry."

"...pathetic, and depressing human being." Dustin ignored his friend and handed him the bowl full of pancake batter. "But with her, you’re happy; you smile. You don’t have to pretend to be cool all the time, and you really talk to her. Plus, you take care of her, which is good because you’ve been breathing down my neck and acting like my mom for too long. I didn’t want to tell you, but you were suffocating me, and you finding a girlfriend would be great for my individuality, Steve."

Steve flipped the pancake to brown the other side while making a face.

"I get it, Henderson, you need space, and I’ll give it to you as soon as you help me with the coffee and leave."

Dustin scratched his nose and coughed. "Idiot."

Dustin was right; you brought out the best in him. Steve could talk to you without feeling like he had to impress you all the time. You made him feel butterflies in his stomach, but you didn’t make him act like an idiot. It was too hard for him to figure out if what he felt for you was a strong friendship or something more. He missed you during the weeks you were studying at the university, and when you came back to Hawkins, you were never close enough to him.

"I think it would be a big step date her instead of going on dates with a bunch of girls that end when you drop them off at their houses the next morning," Robin had told him one day when he decided to tell her his plan of helping you, while they were reorganizing the shelves at Family Video.

It had survived the earthquake, and Keith didn’t want to deal with the business anymore. Steve and Robin decided to take over; it wasn’t bad to have a business and extra money in their pockets. Max, Will, and Dustin took turns after school and officially entered the workforce, earning some cash they could spend on whatever those little gremlins spent their money on now.

"Robin, it’s already pretty weird to have an ex in your friend circle; two would be excessive, and it’s a risk I’m not willing to take."

His best friend let out a teasing laugh.

"Goofball, you just admitted you like her."

Obviously, Steve liked you, he thought while plating the pancakes after getting rid of Dustin and sending him off to Eddie’s house to plan their new campaign or something. Steve liked a lot of things and people, otherwise, he wouldn’t surround himself with them. The issue was figuring out what kind of feeling he had for you. It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to have it figured out except him. Plus, even if he did figure it out, what about you? What did you feel for him?

Steve was your damn hero, you thought as you stretched between the soft sheets of the most comfortable bed you’d ever tried and opened your eyes after a huge, unashamed yawn. You stared at the ceiling of the room, trying to contain your bliss. You looked at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed and quietly laughed when you saw that it read exactly noon. You’d slept more than twelve hours; that was more than you usually rested in a week at the university. You raised your fist in victory and got out of bed to brush your teeth and freshen up a bit before racing down the stairs two at a time to find Steve on the first floor. You found him squeezing orange juice in the kitchen when he looked at you, somewhat startled. You walked toward him with a smile, then gave him a big hug, burying your face in his chest and feeling him slowly return the embrace.

"Thanks, Steve. I really rested."

You pulled away from him and looked around. On a tray, there was corn syrup, raspberry pancakes, and freshly scrambled eggs.

"You made all this?"

Steve scratched his neck, somewhat embarrassed.

"Dustin came by to help me," he admitted, then looked at your rested face and couldn’t help but smile.

"That’s sweet of him."

If you had heard his string of complaints, you wouldn’t have found it so sweet. But he wouldn’t tell you that.

"Hungry?"

"Starving!"

Steve saw the spark in your eyes; even your smile was different when you rested. As you ate the breakfast with pleasure and asked about his graduation from the police academy, Steve watched you carefully, making sure you didn’t notice. Partly because he didn’t want you to think it was strange, but also because the small shot of adrenaline he got from doing so was addictive. He didn’t know what was happening. He’d known you for years, and you’d never been on his radar. He knew that if he tried hard enough, he could count the number of times you’d talked in high school on one hand. You had never been attractive to him in a way that would make him want to be friends, let alone anything more. It’s true that if he tried to remember, he would say you always had that pleasant smile and those big eyes that seemed to read whoever they saw. You were also pleasant; you never paid attention to Tommy and Carol and didn’t seem to care about fitting into the social hierarchy of school. You didn’t seem to mind being friends with him even after the Hawkins attack. Although it’s true you were always kind, he couldn’t say you became friends until a year or two ago. Steve had lived a life without you, but now, he found it hard to imagine the rest of his life without you in it.

Your heart seemed to hurt. It was strange because you were happy, very happy; you had a bath with aromatic salts, a nice dinner, and most importantly, a good rest and a delicious breakfast. But your heart hurt. Today was a good day, and you didn’t want to be ungrateful, but you wouldn’t always have this; and you weren’t talking about the shower, the food, or the oh-so-comfortable bed the size of a Cadillac. No, it was this—Steve. You couldn’t help but feel that your happiness had an expiration date, and it was very soon. Steve was being so nice to you that it hurt.

It hurt your stomach, your chest, and your mind.

You tried not to let it show, though, and in the afternoon, when Steve dropped you off in front of your house after spending the day lounging in his living room, eating leftovers from the night before, and watching comfort movies like The Breakfast Club and The Princess Bride (which Eddie had gotten through a not-quite-legal but also not-illegal way, since it had only been in theaters for a few months), you tried not to look at him too much or count the freckles on his neck because it was real torture. He had looked at you with those eyes and smiled while saying goodbye. You saw him watch you until you entered your house and waved goodbye one last time. He drove off, and you stood by the window because it was almost physically impossible for you to tear yourself away.

“So?” Your mother’s voice came from behind you, and that was the only thing that made you move. You turned to face her, still holding the bag with the soft pajamas that Steve had insisted you didn’t return.

“Steve told me his plan, did you manage to sleep?”

You nodded, and your mom came over to hug you while letting out little squeals of joy. You hid your face in her neck and began to cry. It took a few seconds before your mom noticed. Damn Steve Harrington and his consideration to tell your mom about his plan. Damn, damn him.

“What’s wrong?” your mom asked, concerned, cradling your face.

“I need help, mom,” you sniffled, and the sentence was barely understandable.

You saw your mom raise her eyebrows and nod.

“Of course, but what’s wrong? What are you feeling?”

You tried to breathe and put your hand over your chest.

“F-fear.”

Your mom’s expression softened, making her look younger when she seemed to understand what you meant.

“Oh, no, sweetheart. No.” She kissed your forehead and wiped your tears away with a small, comforting smile. “You’re in love.”

Yes, at least Steve had recognized the symptoms.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff

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canaryy15 · 24 days ago

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how have i never realized i possess the power to draw epic the musical art until now

HERMES AND CIRCE DOODLES!!!!! I didnt reference any other designs for them directly when making it, thought if my brain did you blame it….

#Epic the Musical #art #digital art #Hermes #hermes epic the musical #circe #circe epic the musical #aeolus #aeolus epic the musical #odyseuss #odyseuss epic the musical #winions #winions epic the musical #jorge rivera herrans #headcannon is that hermes and the winions were watching 600 strike and the winions were fucking traumatized #aeolus owns all the winions in my head so she sees all her children TRSUMATIZED and goes to hermes like #I LET YOU BABYSIT FOR LIKE A WEEK AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO

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amerasdreams · 1 year ago

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the only way i can be assertive is to be really angry

That's why I like anger (when it's righteous not unjustified and hurtful) because it actually gives you energy while fear freezes you

Sometimes people are completely impervious to gentle and polite assertions of boundaries and you have to be clear in a way that is blunt and clear with no room for negotiation and it's the worst thing in the entire world and I hate it so much

#Freeze is what I do #Few times I could actually stand up for myself--#And it was great #Makes me want yo br mad al thr time #Anger gives energy and life #Otherwise I have no natural energy #Retiring ugh #-- when people take money from me-- this was online but #I would not let that go til I got my money back #When I put myself between my sister and her ex she was supposed to have no contact with and told him to leave #After that intruder and it was stressful week and I just wanted to relax w my horse #That guy was using my brushes!!!#I was mad and yelled at him #You don't do that without asking #He said "I'm sorry you're so mad. Like!?!?#I'm glad I confronted him I want more of that bottled lightnig plz #I hate how frozen I was those 2 times those men touched me when I was sitting down tired 20 years apart #Gross older men #3rd time I want to act!!!!#When else. . Mad at my sisters ex again before he left #I confronted my sister when she went back to him and I was babysitting jocie at her apt #And she threw all my things out in the hall and I had to go the te church my aunt was volunteering at #My computer to th food party down the road a few blocks also from their house #(My aunt died a few years later ;( she was the best #When else--

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violetsandshrikes · 2 months ago

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I met a girl when I was fresh out of high school in undergrad who frankly, annoyed me quite a bit, but I also had an inkling to continue to be compassionate to her given a few things about her life/background/family

I ran into her two years ago. Last week, her daughter turned 1. This girl, let’s called her “P”, is a really good example of why I never feel comfortable mocking trad wives

Her perfect trad husband, who was a shining young figure in the local religious community, volunteered in all sorts of groups, well loved in his workplace and everything else, beat her up at 1 month post-partum. I reached out to her after seeing her desperately asking for a stroller on a page, confused and slightly concerned knowing both of them came from wealthy backgrounds.

The reality for lots of tradwives living “perfect lives” is this: P was immediately ostracised. All the wealth of her husband and her family meant absolutely nothing if she wasn’t in favour and doing what she was told. Her child and her well-being didn’t matter. P, at 25 years old, was basically deemed an oopsie, and left on her own to figure out how to pay for herself, a baby, find housing, and every other task you can think of.

Having known many of these women (and supported many of these women), another factor most people don’t consider is this: they are intentionally raised to be helpless. When I immediately offered my support to P, she really needed it. This young woman needed to be guided through how to apply for government assistance, how to weigh up rentals and apply for them, how to apply for jobs, how to sign up for childcare. How to sign up for your own power and internet, and how to connect them.

It wasn’t that she was “stupid”, or incapable, or spoiled. While it looks like they’re being sheltered, in reality, these women are practically being held hostage. Sure, they might be allowed to learn things that are expected of them (see: basic cooking, baking, cleaning, child rearing, women’s bible studies, hosting, and so forth) but they are heavily controlled from family life into marriage life, and they are never given the opportunity or the reality of what many of us would consider basic adult tasks.

She’s doing okay now. Her daughter turned 1, is happy and healthy. They live frugally, but they have a roof over their heads and the essentials. I often babysit for her so she can attend counselling, or go to a woman’s support group. She is painfully aware that she has so much to learn about how to live as an adult.

I don’t envy tradwives, but I don’t find any joy in mocking them either. Even when they live the most picturesque lives, they’re also practically living a real life Jenga game. If (and often, when) it comes tumbling down, they’re screwed too, and they often have 0 skills to help themselves or find community (that again, isn’t carefully curated).

#if anything I would say I pity the majority of them #material living aside - what an awful way to live.#katie rambles #tw domestic violence #tw abuse #ask 2 tag

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nikkento-writes · 4 months ago

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Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?”

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.”

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!”

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy.

Toji, on the other hand, is another story.

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you.

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas.

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby.

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence.

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad.

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time.

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with.

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho.

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.”

And apparently, so are you.

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job.

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working.

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.”

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen.

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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lizardho · 17 days ago

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I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.

The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.

So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.

My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.

This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.

My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.

Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”

That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.

We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.

The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.

I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️

#grandpa #grampa #nostalgia #ex mormon #mormon #parental discipline #love

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finelinefae · 1 month ago

Text

safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.

word count: 5.4k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey

a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333

this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here

. . .

Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.

This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.

She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.

Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.

Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”

Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.

“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.

“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”

“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”

“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”

His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”

“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”

Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”

“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”

Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe.

. . .

Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother.

“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.

“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.

“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.

Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”

Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.

“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”

Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”

Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”

Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.

“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.

“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”

She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”

Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”

Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm.

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”

“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”

“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”

Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.

“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.

“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.

“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.

Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said.

“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.

They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.

“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”

Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”

“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.

A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.

“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.

Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”

Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”

“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.

“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.

“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.

Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”

“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”

Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”

Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”

“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.

“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.

“Better.”

“Ice cream?”

Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”

Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.

Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.

Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.

“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”

Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.

Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

. . .

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.

"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"

Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."

Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.

Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"

"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.

"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."

"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."

Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"

"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."

Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.

She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.

That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"

Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.

Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.

. . .

Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.

Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x

A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.

She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.

Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕

Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.

She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.

You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.

Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x

Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x

Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday

Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage.

Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.

She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.

“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.

She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”

“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.

Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear.

The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.

When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.

Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.

“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”

Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.”

Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”

Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.”

. . .

Y/N liked Lindsey a lot.

She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.

Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.

Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.

“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.

She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”

Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”

“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”

Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.

As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.

In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.

““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”

Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.

“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.

Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.

Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”

“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.

“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. ��Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.

Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”

“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.

A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”

“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”

“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers.

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.

“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”

“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.

“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.

A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”

“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.

Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.

. . .

Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”

“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer.

“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”

“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house.

“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.

Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.

Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing

Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!

Harry: Can’t help it Bambi

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

. . .

taglist ~~

@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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hairmetal666 · 5 months ago

Text

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #secret identity #gossip column #first kiss #getting together #steve harrington writes a gossip column #steve harrington is lady whistledown #eddie discovers steve's secret identity #they makeout about it #obviously erica becomes the tattler when she gets to high school. obviously

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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months ago

Text

Needle Little Love | Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: When you’re announced as Ferrari’s newest driver, fans love the budding friendship between you and Charles, especially when he adopts your penchant for crochet puns. Netflix expose that there’s more to the story.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive content. Swearing. Fluff

2023-2024 timeline. Pinterest pics.

Requested: Yes by @rebelwrites. Find the full request here

A/N: There's a blurb halfway down

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

its_ynln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and others

its_ynln chronicles of yarnia 🧶

1,609 comments

francisca.cgomes okay but i’m gonna need that top in all colours please

→ its_ynln let me get your measurements at zandvoort

user1 what is charles doing here

→ its_ynln i’m plagued by his brother and we both like to go zoom?

→ arthur_leclerc just for that, i’m not coming to your celebration party in zandvoort. i’ll go party with charles

→ its_ynln don’t want you there anyway

→ oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc the girls are fighting again

→ user2 i love how they’re just assuming she’ll win

lilymhe i love my pillow! thank you thank you thank you 🌼

→ alex_albon she literally carries it everywhere and i’m not allowed to touch it

user3 we love how racing is just her side hobby

jackdoohan day 116 of asking you to make me my own dinosaur

→ its_ynln i can make a voodoo doll of you if you don’t stop pestering me

→ jackdoohan i’ll be glad when you’re gone

→ user4 gone where!

→ user5 well she is currently leading the f2 championship, and they won't let her back

user6 drop the patterns please, babe

user7 i love how half the people here are because of her crochet, not because she drives

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

f1 just posted

liked by ferraridriveracademy, oscarpiastri and others

f1 welcome to the team @/its_ynln we look forward to seeing you on the grid in the new year

5,533 comments

its_ynln what can i say, it’s knot just another hobby

→ user8 babe, stick to crochet. stand up comedy is not for you

ferraridriveracademy take good care of our girl

→ scuderiaferrari thanks for letting us have her

charles_leclerc welcome to the team 😄

→ user9 why is this the blandest welcome ever

→ user10 someone feels threatened

→ arthur_leclerc *trying to contain his excitement

francisca.cgomes this is the best news ever. will you teach me to crochet?

→ pierregasly because stealing my girlfriend over summer break wasn’t bad enough?

→ its_ynln are you still salty that she let me touch her boobs

→ user11 i know it was to measure her chest for clothes but still..

scuderiaferrari are we going to have to pr train you? @/its_ynln

→ liamlawson30 yes

→ alex_albon yes

→ jackdoohan yes

→ its_ynln why am i being attacked by twice the amount of people now?

arthur_leclerc thank god she’s not my problem anymore

→ its_ynln i’ll always be your problem, little leclerc

→ oscarpiastri oh fuck, she’s my problem now

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc winter break spent somewhere sunny

2,316 comments

scuderiaferrari come back, we miss you

user1 um, whose hand is he reaching for in that first pic

→ user2 idk but we should be saying thank you for dressing him in that shirt

its_ynln is your skin ferrari red yet

→ charles_leclerc no, i keep getting slathered in sun cream :(

→ arthur_leclerc factor 50?

→ user3 i love that she’s bullying him before she’s even been his teammate on track

user4 this shirt looks similar to one yn posted a few weeks ago??

→ user5 and the hat!!

→ user6 omg how cute would it be if charles was asking her to crochet him some clothes

→ user7 we love a supportive teammate

landonorris rocking the bucket hat, mate. think i can get one in papaya?

→ charles_leclerc i’ll hook you up

oscarpiastri i miss you, dad

→ its_ynln i’m not babysitting next year. just putting that out there ahead of time

→ charles_leclerc not even if i ask nicely?

→ its_ynln maybe if you let me win

→ charles_leclerc 🤔🤨

user8 why are we skipping past the sneaky soft launch?

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

2024

“You know, we both have driver’s rooms for this sort of thing,” you breathed, giggling when Charles’ facial hair tickled your neck.

His mouth sucked gently on the pulse point thrumming beneath his tongue, tracing kisses from your ear down to your collarbone. The stack of worn tyres cushioned your back as he pressed your harder against them when you reached around to pinch his backside.

“Oi, I’m talking to you.”

“I’m sorry, mon ange, but you looked so good when you were giving that interview. And you kept laughing-”

“Oh, so it’s not that I’m so irresistible that you couldn't wait until we were safely in the garage. It’s that you were jealous.” You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to fight the smile at his rougish grin.

“You are irresistible,” he murmured, hands snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Why else would I be making out with you in an alley behind the motorhome?”

“Because you’re a horndog.”

You and Charles had been dating for the past year, having met after he caught you winding up his younger brother one race weekend. Ferrari had been eyeing you up all year, asking the Monagesque what he thought of you, prompting him to pay closer attention. Prior to you signing your contract, you’d had to disclose your relationship to Fred Vasseur. Whilst the senior members of the team were aware of your more-than-teammates status, the majority of the paddock were in the dark. Both of you wished to keep the relationship under wraps until your rookie year in F1 had passed, reducing speculation that Charles was the only reason you got your seat. Sneaking around the motorhome was a lot safer than making out behind tyre stacks, but Charles didn’t care at this moment in time.

“You going to be nice and let me win today?” He teased, nibbling at your lower lip.

“I think you mean, am I going to let you massage my feet after I win? I won here last year.”

“Yes, yes, bow down to you.”

“Well, I do like you on your knees.”

Grinning, Charles captured your lips with his once more. Tongue swiping against your bottom lip, he groaned against you when your tongue met his. Hands snaking into his hair, you tugged gently on the soft strands, enjoying the whimper you pulled from his lips. He tilted his hips, pressing himself against you.

“The things you do to me.”

A loud cough - more of a throat clearing - tore the two of you apart. Wide eyed and panting, you both turned in horror to look at the misfortune person who stumbled across you. Fred Vasseur stood at the end of the alleyway, shaking his head at his two drivers. It was bad enough watching them make heart eyes at each other during data reviews but this. Behind him stood a cameraman and a mic guy, mouths agape at their luck. Drive to Survive would be flooded with viewers once they teased this. Breaking News: Ferrari drivers caught locking lips in secret tryst.

“I’ve got Netflix following me around today.” Fred said bluntly, staring you both down.

“Oh crap.”

“Yeah.”

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

next day

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by its_ynln, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc you could say we’re a close knit bunch

4,416 comments

its_ynln i fell for you hook, yarn and stitcher

user8 not charles adopting her crochet puns

jackdoohan so he gets a toothless keychain and i still don’t get my dinosaur?

→ liamlawson30 that’s because he’s sleeping with her

→ jackdoohan if that’s the price...

scuderiaferrari finally. we were getting sick and tired of archiving all the pics we took of you both being cute. now we can post!

→ arthur_leclerc please don’t. it’s bad enough seeing it in person for the past two years. i don’t want it on my timeline

→ user9 two years! they’ve been together two years!

alex_albon can’t believe you posted a photo of her in a nice dress and didn't even give her photo creds

→ its_ynln he’s intimidated by my raw talent

→ oscarpiastri i watched you flip over the handles of your bike the other day

→ its_ynln raw talent

→ charlesleclerc @/its_ynln when was this? why didn’t you tell me? are you okay?

georgrussell63 did she beat you?

→ charles_leclerc i let her win

→ landonorris yeah, you’ve been saying that all season, mate

→ its_ynln you got a nice consolation price out of it tho

→ arthur_leclerc ew!

user10 i love that charles has posted this and yn hasn’t mentioned anything about him lol

→ user11 her entire insta is the two sides of her personality; car and yarn. can't have a man ruining the aesthetic

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

A huge thank you to @rebelwrites for the request. I hope this lives up to expectations

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my Masterlist :)

2K notes · View notes

zarameraki · 4 months ago

Text

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”

With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.

The jingle of keys echoed through the air.

Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”

“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?”

“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”

Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.”

“Hey, babysitting is my job.”

He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.”

“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.”

“Cut me some slack, kid.”

“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.”

“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?”

“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.”

“Leaving so soon?”

You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.”

“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?”

Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.

“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”

“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin.

“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.”

He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.”

“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.

“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.”

You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?”

“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.”

Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?”

“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”

Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”

“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”

“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.”

“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”

Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth.

With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.

As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.”

Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.

Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled.

“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.”

“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.

Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?”

You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.”

“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.” He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this.

Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.

“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head.

“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.

Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.

The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?”

“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.”

“Baby, they’re ugly.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick.

He stopped immediately.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.”

Toji snapped.

He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth.

You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up.

Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?”

You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control.

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.”

Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?”

“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.”

Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?”

“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.” He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole.

You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood.

“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?”

“Fuck me, Toji. Please.”

He could get off on your begging alone.

His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days.

Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage.

Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy.

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips.

“Do it.”

Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations.

You were both out of breath as you stared at one another.

Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked.

The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed.

Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night.

“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.”

“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.”

“That little shit already considers you his mother.”

You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.”

Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?”

“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.”

He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately.

“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”

He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.”

You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.”

“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night.

Toji smiled.

2K notes · View notes

sugarverse · 4 months ago

Text

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙠𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 <3

word count: 5.4k

mentions of: cheating/being cheated on by now ex bf, smut [18 or older], poc!reader, "I'll make you feel better." non quirk au, aged up to 20(reader) and 22(bkg)!

author note: kinda corny because i haven't written for direct characters in awhile but what can you do, thank you @fizziedoodle for the moodboard to go with this!

Bakugou and you have always been best friends. Your parents would babysit for the bakugo’s and vice versa. Even things like playdates and going out to eat. Since about 5th grade, you had been like family.

Or so he had thought. For a long time he just thought of you as someone who needed to be watched over– someone he needed to take care of. He would stay up late at night during your sleepovers to ‘protect’ you from anything that could be hidden in your closet.. He'd snatch your hand whenever crossing the street, he'd just always been someone he wanted to keep safe. He knew that much after witnessing your first few heartbreaks. But even so, his perspective started to change as you both grew older. He's had girlfriends before, duh. But he could never think of you that way.

Could he?

katsuki lets out a drawn out sigh at his own thoughts, running a hand throughout his hair and tossing the remote onto the small coffee table. he stretched his legs, feeling the blood run back into them as they had began to fall asleep from his lounging.

“tch..” he groaned, scratching at his stomach and headed towards the kitchen. he hit his foot on the ground a few times as the pins and needles went away, letting out an annoyed groan. he got even more frustrated at the sound of an unfamiliar knock, stopping his journey to the kitchen to look over at the door. he let very few people know where he live, and even his most frequent visitor– you, hardly showed up unannounced. he looked over at the kitchen, rolling his eyes and reluctantly walking towards the door. shit like this is what made him a pissy person.

the knock came again, more frantic than the last time. he balled his fits. Who the hell could that be? he thought before opening his mouth to yell, swinging open the door before being forced back by nobody other than.. you?

you.

he quickly looked down at you, rubbing your back instinctively. were you crying??. "Y/n?" he knew that hair from anywhere, the sweet smell of your perfume flooding his nose. he searched for any wounds, confused on why you were at his house so late in the evening. especially crying. you must have been hurt.. was it your face? rough hands go to tilt your head back, holding your cheeks in his palms to check over you.

your face wasn't damaged, but it didn't matter. you were too busy sobbing and pulling away from his hands to hide your face in his chest. you couldn't help it! you were crying so hard in the car you were sure you'd wreck on the way there! this was the third time in about a week or so you had talked to him about your boyfriend, which wasn't often because you didn't want to shove it into your best friend's face that you were taken. you hated when he'd have a girlfriend and boast about her to you. it made your chest ache and anger seethe through your body. you knew it had been some form of jealousy, all of his attention would be off of you for the few weeks that she'd stick around and it was torture. you'd never want him to feel like that.. however, this week was different! it seemed like you were just continuously arguing with your now ex boyfriend and it made your body ache. so much so, that you had to bring it up more than once to katsuki. like the theory that he was cheating, you could feel that.. distance. you just knew it in your gut. the constant change of behavior, always seemingly hiding his phone.. but even in the end, he tried to paint it out like you were the bad guy. for not knocking on his apartment door while some bitch was laying on your side of the bed. what a fucking. asshole. this was not how you wanted to spend your Friday evening after work.

bakugo extended an arm to shut the door, keeping the crisp autumn air from entering his warm apartment any more than it already had. "Breathe through y’r damn mouth before ya stop breathing all together. Why the hell are ya cryin? You almost gave me a damn heart attack!"

he can't remember the last time you'd cried in front of him, let alone cried to him. you always just kept it together and knew what you were doing. you were so independent, so incredibly smart.. you didn't have time to cry about anything. not that he had known about anyway.

he waddled the few steps to the kitchen as planned, letting you lazily drag your feet between his legs and cling to his torso. he slid his arms under yours to set you atop of the counter, attempting to pull away slowly but you obviously weren't having that. "n/n, drink some water."

you had been crying so much you felt like you'd throw up soon, it was like you needed a big stuffed animal to hug or someone to just tell you it'll all be okay. katsuki was your big stuffed animal. anytime you did come into any kind of mishap, he would always be the best at comforting you. making sure you've eaten a genuine meal when sick, letting you sleep on his very comfortable bed just to get a little bit of rest and alone time from the outside world, helping you study... you sniffled, knowing he'd give you as long as you needed but deciding to still let him go. you screamed at yourself to stop crying, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands slowly.

"Hey. ..drink." you moved a hand away, seeing katsuki hold a bottle a few inches from your face. you took the water from him with a shaky hand and gave it a small sip. you grumble, moving it away from your lips and setting it on the counter to you before his harsh voice spoke up once more.

"I know you aren't dumb, i mean a genuine drink. Not that baby shit." he semi-snatched the bottle up, holding it to your lips once more. he paid you no mind, reaching into the cabinets above you for the hot cheetos he initially wanted. he set the water bottle back down after he knew you had drank a pretty good portion of it, unclipping the chips and leaning against the stove next to you. he watched you shake from your messy breathing, obviously trying to calm down by taking another small drink, holding the bottle to your lips. "What happened. Is it that ugly rat you're with makin you come in here crying??” Here he was, running his mouth again. you hated that he was right.

you shook your head, wiping your tears once more as they still fell from your eyes. "he didn't even care t..that," you hiccuped, trying to keep your voice steady after another sigh. "he didn't care that I found out.!" you knew you were being a little loud, the voice crack that came afterwards didn’t help. you were so embarrassed, upset, frustrated.. more frustrated than anything other feeling in the world. you continue to explain what happened, “i got off work early, so i stopped by his house so we could get something to eat,” you ramble, looking over to your best friend as you explained walking in on him through angry sobs.

bakugo on the other hand? looked like he had stopped breathing. ruby eyes staring down at your lap before looking you in the eye to remind you he's listening. they had a small twitch to them, a blank expression in the back of his eyes as if in some sort of thought instead.

but you knew that look.. which makes you remember who exactly you're venting to. someone who would kill for you. you knew that, and you'd kill for him. anytime some little boy would mess with you, he was there to fight them off until you were old enough to do it yourself. you knew that guy was an asshole. another reason you didn't want katsuki to see him or hear about him. he always chews you out for dating "lesser than". partially because hes always felt so.. aggravated. that your boyfriends would get so much more time with you than what he did when you were in a relationship, funnily enough. he never placed it to be jealousy, just wanting his friend back. but he was craving it. he never wanted to seem weird and controlling, his snarky comments were enough to bring you back to your senses.. but all in all, you weren’t his. so what did it matter? you go on and on about needing to ”grow through what you go through”. it's not like you'd listen when he warns anyway.

you shook your head, quieting down to just sniffles and broken whimpers. there was no point in being upset now, It wouldn't change the way your new ex boyfriend thought. or the way that you thought. maybe you just needed to come to terms with it.. that’s what you kept trying to make yourself think anyway. you take a deep breath, kicking your feet out and looking up at the ceiling. "would you mind if I stayed for a few hours? I.. I don't really wanna go home you know..?" you laugh nervously at your own question, letting your hands smack onto the counter to feel the sting in your palm before looking over at the blond.

he rolled his eyes, letting out a small grumble and wiping a few crumbs off of his shirt. Now wasn’t the time to be pissed. he was trying to mature from semi-blinded rage. It was a time to be there for you. "i guess that means stay the night. I know how you are..” although his tone didn't show it, his sly grin let you know he wouldn't be saying ‘i told you so’ anytime in the near future. good riddance to the bastard anyway. you smiled, watching him calm himself down before helping you off the counter and into the living room. you slide your shoes off at the door, turning to the couch. he had laid the bag of chips on the table to flick through tv channels. after a very short amount of time, he sighed. "Here," he handed you the remote, kicking his feet up onto his coffee table and snatching his chips back up with his clean hand.

you took the remote, sitting slowly and sliding your legs over his lap. you go straight to MAX, your eyes still sore from all the crying. you sniffled, rubbing your eyes some more as you went to your account. you feel him let his hand rest on your knee, rubbing up and down your leg soothingly.

“You want me to order dinner? I haven’t eaten yet..” he watched you switch the television to some common baking show, looking a little annoyed at the host screaming at them through the tv. asifhedoesn’tscreamonthegame

“i don't care, i don't think i can eat anything without getting sick..” you spoke weakly, placing a hand over your stomach. “my whole body is aching right now.." maybe you were hungry? it's hard to tell after feeling so deflated.

but he knew you needed to eat something. he pulled out his phone, going to doordash and shutting his bag of chips. "We can get Wendy's, McDonald's.. Wherever you want. pizza?" he wasn't one for pizza at the moment, he was kinda sick of it considering that's what kirishima always wanted to eat when they were studying. he was more of a burger and french fries kind of guy at the moment.. but whatever you wanted, he would get it for you. even if it was something small like an ice cream sandwich from the gas station up the street. maybe it'd help you feel better.

"mm.. maybe we can eat wendy's? I like their lemonade and their nuggets." you were trying to get out of the mood you were in, thinking about something small to eat. you shouldn't be giving that guy the time of day, let alone any more tears. "we can drive there, we don't have to doordash. it'll be less expensive that way.." you yawned, sliding your legs off of him slowly.

"All right… ya sure you want to go out? I wouldn't want you to think everybody's staring at ya.. Especially with all this snot-" he teased, pointing to the bleach stains on your shirt that have been there forever. you had originally been in one of your sleep shirts because you were trying to spend the night at your boyfriend's after dinner… ex, boyfriend.

“then i'll just go get one of your shirts.!" you laughed, getting up and walking to his room. You could hear him laughing as you took off your shirt, throwing it into the hamper. You grabbed one of his old t-shirts, putting it on slowly. you sat on the edge of his bed in front of his mirror, staring at yourself. you couldn't believe how red your eyes were.. how disheveled your hair was/felt like it was. It made you feel like you needed to try to look more.. presentable? maybe it'd help you feel better. You tried to fix your hair as much as you could but it slowly started to irritate you, causing you to rub your eyes and grab a black bonnet from “your side” of his apartment. his house had small reminders of you all throughout it from being around so long. you walk back out, sliding on your shoes on. "come on, let's just go."

he rolled his eyes, getting up and turning off the "If you wanted something to eat you could have just said so when you got here, We didn't have to turn on the TV and all that if we were just going to leave." he put on his shoes, giving you a hard time before resting a hand on your waist. he slid you away from the table, hand lingering a little longer than it needed to but you didn't comment on it. he grabbed his keys, moving to hold the door open for you.

“I didn't know you were hungry! Shut up!” you laugh, walking out to his cherry red corvette. He spent a lot of time working on and a lot of money to own in general. The feeling of the fall breeze goes right up your spine and to your hair, relieving some tension that rested in the back of your head. a small beep came from the car, unlocking to let you in. it smelled like familiar cologne.. it was comforting. you spoke up once again once he got in, vermillion eyes already staring back at you.

"May as well put your seatbelt onto 'suki, you drive like a mad man..” you roll the window down, letting the air tingle all over your skin as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“You can’t drive any better, thats why your car is parked and we're in mine.” he responds, pulling into the lot of Wendy's since it had been just up the street. he tried to drive more carefully with you in the car once you said that, noticing how lazy his u-turns were and his carelessness for the yellow light. he grumbled, feeling himself zoning out, fighting with his moral sense of being. You had just gotten out of a breakup, what kind of man would he be to try to hit on someone who's obviously hurting? especially you. It was just too risky to even mention the new feeling. no matter how much better he could make you feel.

The car stopped at the speaker, the faint noise of SZA on the radio being turned down to nothing. still in thought, it takes a gentle hand from you to shake him out of it. “did you hear me ‘suki.? i want a chocolate frosty..” your hand stays on his arm, nails lightly scratching at his soft skin to gain his attention.

.. you weren't helping. the way you smelled..the lotion you wore causing the car to smell like cocoa butter instead of his Versace. your voice was just something to die for.. the sweetness to your tone, the way you clung onto him whenever you needed something.. it was poison.

he chuckled to himself quietly, staring down at you for a moment before ordering. you look up at him confused, letting it be before being handed all the food. he turned the radio back up before you could even ask, driving back home.

It felt unusually quiet between you two. normally you could hear the neighbors blasting music or maybe even their TV whenever katsuki’s wasn't on. but this felt different. It was genuinely quiet in Katsuki Bakugou's home.

“..you want to watch TV or something? ‘m tired of hearing you chew.” you said jokingly, breaking the silence. your eyes look over at him, seeing he had already been looking at you. his lips parted like he was about to ask a question. but instead, he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

“You chew louder than I do. You probably listenin’ to yourself." he joked, putting on Netflix to have something in the background. he kicks his shoes off, letting them fall at the end of the couch and near the front door before putting his legs back on his coffee table. he ate in his lap, not caring if he made a mess considering he always cleaned up after himself. he looked over at you, seeing you twirl your spoon around instead of actual eating. “Not to be an asshole, but you look exhausted. Dont let that thing get to you so bad.. if you need to lean on me, you can you know.”

you looked over at him, laughing breathlessly and looking back at your nuggets. “i think my eyes are just puffy from crying so much.. I don't think its really botherin’ me anymore..” you say softly, leaning onto him slowly anyhow. you pop your last nugget into your mouth as you continue to watch TV. he let his left arm wrap around you tightly, rubbing your shoulder to remind you that you were safe. he didn't want you to think that he thought you couldn't take care of yourself. or that you're vulnerable, or that you're a big baby. he wanted you to know that he was here for you. even though he told you so.

he glanced down at you, seeing you enjoy the show just fine. he knew he was just worried about you at this point. he finished his own food, scarfing it down like a teenager before looking at the TV again. it's not like you two haven't cuddled before, you guys were horny teenagers once and used to think about each other very obviously all the time. he shared his first kiss with you one summer at the movies.. its just that the stars just weren't aligned for anything else to happen. It always seemed like one of you had a boyfriend or a girlfriend in the way to get to who you both really wanted.

“Thanks for letting me spend the night suki, I just don't want to be by myself tonight. I think my apartment is just a little too quiet for me right now.. do you think I should confront him? or should I just act like you never existed. I think I left some of my clothes over there, but other than that- should I do anything..?” you asked as he looks down at you. staring at those beautiful brown eyes and the long lashes. your skin was so smooth, he couldn’t help but admire you.

he definitely had a crush on you again, and he couldn't fix it. he knew it was a crush. he just didn't want to believe it. he never wanted to ruin anything between you two. you guys have only gotten into a handful fights the whole time that you've known each other, never been apart for more than a few weeks. nobody knows him like you do, besides maybe his mom. “Are you stupid? Why the hell would you give him the time of day? I'll go over there and grab your stuff with Kirishima. I don't care to walk into the bastard's house. Just stop thinking about him.” he stated the end matter-of-factly.

you look back at him, looking for malice behind what he had said. was he planning on fighting him or was he serious? “Are you sure, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to?” there was a pause shared between you both. the air felt still, almost like no one was breathing. Kirishi

“No, I don't mind." he tried very hard not to lean into you, wanting to be patient with you.. making a move on you would make him low, wouldn’t it? but he could make you feel so much better. especially after everything you've been through. but then he saw you moving up towards him. did you feel what he felt for you?

you knew better than to kiss katsuki, using him as a rebound would be low. you loved him with your entire soul, and yes you've had crushes on him before but that didn't mean he still felt the same way. It had been years since you had ever confessed any kind of romantic feelings to each other. It was a bad idea, but you threw caution to the wind and leaned in for a small kiss as a thank you.

or you tried, anyway.

everything had moved so quick. he was already getting a grip on your neck, kissing back greedily. But at the same time, he wanted to be gentle with you. he didn't want to break you more than you had already been broken. he knows how bad days can be. you didn't attempt to pull away whatsoever, enjoying his lips against yours. after a minute or so when you two had lost all oxygen, he pulled away from you. “I'm… sorry.? I don't know why I did that?” you look up at him, breathing a bit ragged.

“Don't be sorry, dumbass. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you.” he says with a smirk, leaning closer to you. He smiled as you two looked at each other for a little bit, attempting to catch your breath before going for round two. He pulls you onto his waist with hardly any effort, resting you closer to his belly button than the real deal. He didn't want you to feel how hard he was from your lips alone.

katsuki always been so pretty to you. of course many people probably thought the same. Clear face, soft blonde hair, those eyes. you knew it was definitely too soon to be rushing anything, but somewhere in your body was almost missing a touch you had never truly had. your hips grind against his abdomen slightly, almost as if trying to hide it. you couldn't tell if it was working because you were too busy feeling him shove his tongue down your throat.

he gently rubbed your waist, holding it in place after a minute. he pulled away from you slowly, looking down into your pretty brown eyes. “Are you sure that you want to keep going? I don't want you to think I'm some piece of shit trying to take advantage of you.. I really do think you're gorgeous y/n." Which was the truth, he would never want you to think he was some dirtbag. but he's always longed for your touch.. he couldn't help but feel on you.

you nodded your head yes, kissing down his neck eagerly just to be pulled away again. “I need you to say it for me, that it's okay. Genuinely, y/n.”

you look down at him, sitting up higher so he knew you were serious. “I promise I'm okay, That this is okay.” You kiss his forehead, feeling him pick you up and heading towards his room. He left the living room the way it was, knowing he'd come back to it.. in an hour or two. He turned the corner of his apartment, opening his door and laying you on his bed gently before beginning to undress himself. You sat up on your elbows, shocked at how quick he was to kiss you. It made you squeal.

He let his hands rest at your waist, kissing down your neck and down the middle of your shirt. Or, rather, his shirt. He slid it up and off of your body, looking at your eyes just to make sure you didn't have any visible anxiety. It didn't seem like you did, but he felt his hands start to sweat. He moved his hands to the bed, mumbling something about you looking soft before kissing your chest lightly. Almost as if he couldn't be more gentler with anything else in his life.

You let out soft moans, hands tangling into his hair as he kissed you all over. As he worshiped you. You could practically feel how much he loved you, and it was weird. It didn't feel like you'd felt this before? Maybe when you were younger? But not anytime recently. It just always felt like he was obligated to be your friend. You'd known each other so long it would be weird to stop being friends.. But this was definitely more than friends. You grin, causing him to scowl up at you.

“I don't wanna hear it.” He mumbled into your skin before kissing near your navel. Could you tell he was nervous? There's no way you could. Could you? He slid his hands behind your back and undo your bra, feeling you sit up in his arms to help him out.

Letting the bra fall off of your shoulders, you threw it to the side of the bed. Katsuki had no shame in staring, looking like a kid in front of a candy store. He stared up at you, drinking in your soft moans before starting back up near your neck. This time, giving you small hickeys on your collarbone and down your stomach. Anytime you'd squirm or giggle out that it was too much, he'd hold your hips down and make you take it. He wanted you to know how much he loves your body. How much you loved you.

You tried to move your hips once more, fidgeting a bit underneath him. You looked down at his perfecttoyou body, scars from soccer and hockey as a teen and so forth. They were all pretty minor but it's still nonetheless pretty hot. He tugged off your pajamas shorts, hand gripping under your thigh to push your leg to your stomach. He rested your thigh on his muscled shoulder, pushing your legs wider as he grabbed the hem of your underwear.

“Is this okay?” You look up at him and nod quickly, feeling starstruck from all the hickeys he left on you. He slowly takes them off, kissing in between your thighs and slowly opening his eyes just a little bit wider at the sight of all of you. He never imagined what it would look like, He always imagined just being inside of you already. But this? Was beautiful. He kissed on the top of your clit, swirling his tongue against it as he pulled your other leg up. his eyes fluttered at your whines, watching you squirm from his teasing but he just wanted to soak in the way that you looked before doing anything else.

“Are you positive you want this?” He asked, face still soaked from before. It made you giggle, seeing how careful he was with you. Not that you hadn't already noticed, but this was sweet. “I don't have to..” He cleared his throat, nerves obviously still there. “I can just keep eating you out.. Doesn't bother me.” He croaked out, trying to sound like the confident man that he was. But you were really fuckin' him up.

“I'm positive I want you to fuck me, ‘suki..” You breathe out, sitting up as he set your legs off of his shoulders. He stood up slow, trying to hide a smirk as he slid his pajama pants off. He was very obviously turned on, looking a bit uncomfortable a he removed his boxers.

You smile, kissing his happy trail and down to what you really wanted. His cock twitched at your touched, causing him to cover his face and lean into your hand. You slid his length down your throat almost tauntingly, it made his head spin and the only thing he wanted to hold was a fist full of your hair. it made you gag, tugging on his arm as he quickly let go. You pull away, coughing as drool spilled from your lips.

He snickered at the sight, moving you to lay on your back as he climbed over you. “You're lucky I want this pretty pussy instead..” He moved your legs back to his shoulders, this time to press you in half. He smiled lazily at you, watching how you cried out when he pushed his tip inside of you. He let out a gruttled sigh in relief, bottoming out inside of you.

Your back arched as much as it could into his touch, panting into his ear with jumbled words of ‘more’ and ‘thank you’s. He was a lot bigger than you had assumed, causing your thighs to twitch from how much it was.

He held your hips, moving your legs closer up his shoulders so he didn't have to hold them for you. He moved back slowly, giving you a few thrusts to get used to the length before moving. “I'll always make you feel better. Not like you need anyone el.. else anyway.” He grumbled out, leaving peppery kisses on your jaw line. You laugh in your head at his words, trying to muffle your moans into his shoulder.

He notices, aimlessly slamming into you. “Nu uh, brat. I wanna hear you, I wanna hear how you take it so good for me,” He leans away from your body, watching your legs shake near his chest as you locked your ankles behind his head. you couldn't stop moaning, whining about him being so far away from you.

“Just like that. Good girl.. Tell me what you want, baby..” He coaxed, watching your eyes prickle with tears as you ask to cum. “Already?” He chuckles, moving deeper into you. He stared at you in complete awe, rubbing over your clit messily to help you along faster.

“Come on, Make a mess on my damn hand. Tell me how good I'm doing..” He was getting close himself, voice cracking and movements getting sloppier. You whine, body pulling him as close as possible before creaming against his cock. Everything was so sensitive and he was still going. He moved from your clit, bringing the mess on his fingers to your lips. “Suck.”

you were having a hard time but you did it anyway, managing to bring him to the edge just as quick as you. you could feel heat fill in your stomach, nails scratching at him to grab at what you could as you rode out your highs together. You felt like the room was spinning, feeling him pull out sloppily. He rested your legs back onto the bed, snickering and grabbing the tissue on his bedstand. He left the room a moment, coming back with a rag to wipe you off with.

“S..Sorry, You okay?” He asks, head tilted to the side as he asked with genuine concern. You nod, feeling your body burn as you took the rag and cleaned up. “You can shower first, I don’t care to wait..” He spoke up again, looking away from you to give you some privacy after previously knocking the mario coins out of you.

a/n: THIS IS SO OLDDDDAHHHH I'm so glad I'm finally done the idea has been sitting for too long. hopefully I executed it right ik the end probably looks rushed 😔

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fastandcarlos · 6 months ago

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Living With The LeClercs » Charles LeClerc

Summary: take a peek into the life of the leclerc family and see what they get up to

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,402,505 others

charles_leclerc: off season complete ✅ batteries are recharged after yet another amazing holiday with the fam

39,503 comments

scuderiaferrari: looking forward to having you back with us next week charles 🏎️

landonorris: i refuse to accept that y/d/n is yours, she's too beautiful to have your genes

ynusername: @/landonorris she just takes after her mother instead 😇

username1: nooooo, f1 season means we get less dad pics from you charles

username2: i don't ever want the dad charles era to end 😭

ynusername: thank you for the best three months, i couldn't wish for a better dad to our little humans 💕

schecoperez: you're putting me to shame with all these adorable snaps, i better start uploading too

lance_stroll: calling dibs on being first to offer babysitting during the season btw

danielricciado: @/lance_stroll you take one i'll take the other, mini charles' are a lot to handle

lance_stroll: @/danielricciardo you've got yourself a deal

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 832,420 others

charles_leclerc: race day is always better with these two babies causing chaos 🥰

29,908 comments

carlossainz55: as cute as your children are, can you hurry up and stop uploading to instagram...some of us have got meetings

username3: y/s/n is hands down the coolest kid at the paddock this weekend

username4: why do i get the impresson project leclerc jr is well underway with y/d/n 🤔

oscarpiastri: STOP SHOWING OFF HOW BEAUTIFUL YOUR FAMILY ARE 😡

maxverstappen1: maybe y/s/n will have a better chance of beating me to the top of the podium than you

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 one day...he's got his eyes on you! apparently you're his favourite driver

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc tell him that he's got excellent taste

ynusername: not you promoting letting toddlers get behind the wheel of high speed cars 🙄

danielricciardo: if you're looking for a coach, you know who to ask

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciado you think i'm not capable of coaching my son

danielricciardo: @/charles_leclerc sure...but if you want him to learn from a proper driver, just gimme a call 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 294,405 others

ynusername: following this man around all day, trying to keep the kids from hugging daddy is a hard day’s work (see second pic for proof 😂)

12,492 comments

landonorris: if charles isn't interested, tell the kids that uncle lando will always be ready for a cuddle

iamrebeccad: i've never done so many steps before, who knew chasing after 3 year olds was such hard work 💫

ynusername: @/iamrebeccad i did try to warn you!! you should've listened

pierregasly: he's just tryna play it cool y/n, he isn't as cool as he used to be

username5: imagine being lucky enough to walk around the paddock and just see y/s/n and y/d/n everywhere

kevinmagnussen: tell them to have a sniff of charles after being in a race car for 2 hours y/n...that will soon be enough to put them off 💩

lilymhe: i want them to chase me and give me all the cuddles in the world

username6: you just know in any free moment charles is secretly looking around wanting his kids back beside him

username7: everyone say thank you to y/n for yet another round of hot dad charles pics 🙏🏻

oscarpiastri: why can't you hug me as lovingly as you hug your son? you're supposed to me my dad too

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri "adopted"

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc IT ALL STILL COUNTS

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 829,407 others

charles_leclerc: like father like son…the leclerc smile is deadly

78,445 comments

username8: officially the cutest photographs to ever be uploaded to the internet 🥺

username9: excuse me charles leclerc you cannot just spring photos like this on us without warning

oscarpiastri: i smile like this too...family?? 🥰

maxverstappen1: if i had to pick y/s/n definitely looks cuter

username10: i was not emotionally ready for this adorableness 💔

carlossainz55: deadly?? you look like the squishiest marshmallow

username11: @/carlossainz55 i think you've been spending too much time on the internet 😬

ynusername: my two favourite boys, how did I ever get so lucky?

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername there's no way you're the lucky one, that title belongs to me mi amor

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 527,492 others

charles_leclerc: I’ve been posting a lot about my human kids recently, so here’s a shoutout to my other child so he doesn’t feel left out

43,482 comments

oscarpiastri: damn i almost thought that this post was gonna be about me

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri i swear one more comment and i will block you, son or not

landonorris: how dare you mistreat leo like this

username12: @/landonorris #justice4leo

username13: charles leclerc...father of 3

ynusername: leo could never be forgotton, he's our favourite four legged child

alex_albon: @/ynusername also your only four legged child 🤔

estebanocon: cute kids, cute dog...how do you do it leclerc??

yukitsunoda0511: asking for a friend...do your kids also poo in the middle of the paddock or just your dog

username14: @/yukitsunoda0511 YUKI not you stitching charles up like this! 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by estebanocon, lance_stroll and 728,493 others

charles_leclerc: my favourite things to do, being a dad with a bit of gaming too 🥺💕

53,684 comments

ynusername: where does being a husband rank in all of them??

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you’re still my number one 😍

username15: if charles won't appreciate you come and marry me instead

maxverstappen1: so bad at fifa you've resorted to table football i see 🫢

carlossainz55: don't worry charlie, i'll beat you at that kinda football too

username16: not you forgetting the woman that gave you those two adorable humans charles 🤦🏻‍♀️

username17: public apology incoming

danielricciardo: and you just happened to be playing table football with your top off did you? 🤔

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo it was all just coincidence...promise

georgerussell63: charles leclerc giving the fan girls what they want since 2018

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 842,348 others

charles_leclerc: appreciation for the wife so she doesn’t get jealous 😂 I love you honey, thank you for our perfect family ✨🔥

53,372 comments

carlossainz55: if you heard him gush about you as much as i do y/n you'd know there is never anything to be jealous of

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 what sorta thing does he say?? 🤔

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 do not throw me under the bus like this!!

landonorris: one of you looks perfect, the other looks like he needs a haircut and to sort his beard out

username18: i hope you know how lucky you are charles

username19: how does y/n manage to look that good running around after y/s/n, y/d/n and charles all day???

logansargeant: can you stop making all us single people feel even more single pls 😭

schecoperez: the second best family in formula one

danielricciardo: @/schecoperez SAVAGE! 💪🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,392,503 others

charles_leclerc: just a post to remind you all I can do both…no dad bod around here 🫢

101,372 comments

username20: DADDY!? 💦

landonorris: how many takes did it take you to get that shot in the gym?

carlossainz55: @/landonorris i was there...for several hours

username21: soft dad charles will always be my fave

ynusername: is there anything that you can't do? you take my breath away charles leclerc 💫💕

oscarpiastri: one day i hope to be as strong as you are...dad

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri BLOCKED

alex_albon: i don't know who looks more tired, you or y/d/n

charles_leclerc: @/alex_albon me, definitely me, but i wouldn't change it for the world

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 reaction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x you #formula 1 social media #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

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Can We Get One

The youngest Leclerc loves baby Leo. So why the fuck won't her boyfriends let her get a puppy?

Norstappen x leclerc!reader

Okay I found out one of 'my' dogs died while writing this

"Hi Baby Leo," she gushed as she scooped her little puppy into her arms. He was like a little shark with the way he went to bite at her sleeve.

But she didn't much mind, gushing over the dog that she had dubbed her nephew (well, if Arthur and Lorenzo weren't going to make her an aunt, Leo it would have to be).

"I'm gonna kidnap you," she said in that baby voice as she stroked under his chin. "Gonna steal you away from your daddy so you can come live with me and Lando and Max."

She was in her own little world as she played with Leo, her brother, her boyfriends, lost to her. Max tried to call her name, but she waved him off to press kisses to Leo's head.

Lando and Max couldn't deny how goddamn cute she looked, holding Leo close to her chest. She scooted around on her ass to face them. "Boys, I'm in love," she said and pouted at them as Leo went to bite her chin.

"Baby," Lando began as he joined her on the floor. "We're not getting a dog."

"Assholes."

She turned her attention away from Lando and looked towards her brother. "Charlie, do you need a baby sitter?" She asked as she placed Leo in her lap. He happily sat there and chewed on her skirt.

"No way," Charles said. "You're not babysitting my dog."

A huff left her lips and she muttered something to Leo, something like 'you'd never be this mean to me, would you angel?' "If I move in with you, cook, clean, pay rent, can I get a puppy?" She asked as she looked at him.

Max couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. "Um, excuse me," he called and tapped her on the shoulder. She ignored him. "Angel, just because we're not letting you get a puppy..."

"That's not it, Maxie," she muttered and scratched at Leo's belly. "Leo just wants me close, that's all."

The Leclercs had always had dogs growing up. It was one of the reasons Charles had gotten Leo. So, seeing his sister so in love with his little puppy, he knew he had to do something.

Charles picked Leo up and pulled his sister up from the floor. She put Leo in his harness, attached his lead and put him on the floor. "Why don't you take him for a walk?" He said and pointed her towards the door.

But she didn't leave. "Cha," she whispered, looking back at her boyfriend. "What're you doing?"

He whispered something in her ear, something that Max and Lando couldn't hear. Something along the lines of 'I'm gonna try and convince these guys to get you a dog'.

She couldn't help but smile as she walked out, Leo at her heels.

Charles began talking to Max and Lando. But what he was suggesting was unrealistic. How could they have a dog when they already have cats? It wouldn't have been fair to Jimmy and Sassy.

But Charles wouldn't drop it, wouldn't drop how happy she looked when she was with Leo. Wouldn't drop how happy she would be if they got her a puppy.

By the time she came back with Leo, they still weren't convinced. But Max couldn't get it out of his head. They were his cats at the end of the day.

It didn't take long for him to work out that he'd do anything to make her happy, including get a puppy.

Charles took her away for a week. He was in on it, happy to help however he could.

And, while they were away, Max and Lando brought home Baguette. The name was Lando's idea, a 'French Poodle for a French girl'. Which pissed her off because she was not in fact French.

It was Max's job to introduce Baguette to the cats. It wasn't smooth sailing, but the boys knew it wasn't going to be. And, by the time Charles brought her home, Baguette and the cats were coming fast friends.

The memory of the first time she met Baguette would always be ingrained into Max and Lando's memory.

She threw her arms around Lando's neck the moment she walked into the apartment, unaware. But then she heard the barking.

"Is Leo here?" She asked, clearly confused as she looked around for the puppy.

But Max didn't emerge with a puppy. Well, not that puppy anyway. The French Poodle puppy was a stranger to her. "We got you something," Lando said as he watched her expression.

"No." It was almost a whisper as Max approached, Baguette in his arms.

"Baguette, say hello to your mommy," Max said as he passed her the dog.

Her mouth fell open as she took Baguette from Max. "This... this is a joke, right?" She couldn't stop herself from asking as Max wrapped his arm around Lando's waist. "You guys got me a dog?"

"We sure did, baby," Lando said as he stepped out from Max's embraced. He stroked Baguettes head, touched his soft, curly ears. "Baby, meet Baguette."

(Baguette below)

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fanficgirl429 · 1 year ago

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Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)

Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you

Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt

----

“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”

Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?

He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.

“Did you check your room?” you ask.

He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.

Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”

“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.

You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.

You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.

“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”

“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”

Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.

“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.

Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”

You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.

“And who’s house is this?” you question.

“We all live there together,” Abby states.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.

“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”

Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.

“What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.

You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”

Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”

“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.

Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”

Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.

“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.

“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.

Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.

Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.

—-

Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?

Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.

All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.

—-

The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.

The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.

As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.

Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.

“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.

“How do you know?” you hear him ask.

“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.

It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.

“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.

Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.

“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.

Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.

“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”

“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.

“She said that you have a crush on me.”

“Oh. Why would she say that?”

“She said that you told her you did.”

You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.

“I-uh-,” you stammer.

Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.

“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.

A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.

You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.

“Why did you stop?” you tease him.

He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.

#mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt fnatf #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson imagine #fnaf mike #fnaf mike schmidt #mike Schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson x reader

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aquaticmercy · 2 months ago

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Under My Skin

Summary : Bucky is always ready to give his girl cuddles.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : fluff. Sam being a good wingman.

Requested by : @sergeantbarnessdoll

Word count : 1.5k

Note : I am currently writing this while dyeing my hair red since my irl boyfriend and I are going as Bucky and Nat in the Hellfire Bar from Thunderbolts 2023 comics for halloween (he has long hair, blue eyes, and a scruffy beard. Uh oh I have a type). Enjoy!

Requests are open!

○support my ko-fi○

This week has been long-drawn and exhausting. The world seemed to be conspiring against you and all your efforts. You barely made it through work, and everything you did felt like one never-ending task after another. By the time the weekend finally arrived, all you wanted was to be cocooned in a fuzzy blanket and do nothing until Monday came.

There was only one person in the world who could provide that: James Buchanan Barnes.

You had been dating super soldier for almost a year now, and while you were past the initial nerves of a relationship, there was still something magical about being in his presence, and you were certain it would ever end. There was something in the way he looked at you with those sky blue eyes that made you feel like you were everything that mattered in his world.

Bucky had always loved spoiling you with his affection, and you would never complain about it, but sometimes, his 40s self would kick in, holding back PDA to a proper amount when all you really wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms and forget about everything else.

Today was one of those days.

It was early afternoon, and Bucky had just returned home from a training session with Sam. He looked a little worn out but still full of energy, you knew he’d recover in no time. He invited Sam back for a drink, and though he had also become a dear friend to you, you could not wait till he walked out the door.

With Sam around, Bucky’s affection became restrained, especially since they were talking about work things. Bucky was always a little tense when it came to that subject.

“Psst,” you whispered from the side of the couch you were sitting on as Bucky excused himself to use the toilet. “Sam.”

One of Sam’s eyebrows raised, leaning up from the armchair he occupied. “What?”

“Look, you’re a great guy and all,” you began, smiling to let him know you meant no harm, “But you’re taking my boyfriend away from me.”

Sam was clearly entertained by your attempt to be diplomatic. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving you a playful look. “Oh, I see what this is. You’re kicking me out, huh?”

“Not kicking you out.” You corrected, smiling sheepishly. “Just… nudging?”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “I get it. He can be caught up in missions sometimes.”

You sighed, knowing Sam was right. No matter what, Bucky always had that serious, brooding nature, especially when it came to this line of work.

“I know,” you glanced over toward the hallway where Bucky had gone, lowering your voice. “He doesn’t know how much I need him right now. I just want him to myself, you know?”

Sam studied you for a moment, a gentle smile forming on his face. “He’s not the best at picking up on those cues, is he?”

You nodded.

“Alright, alright. I hear you,” Sam said, “I can be subtle. Don’t worry, I won’t let ol’ Buck figure out what’s going on.”

Your eyes lit up, thankful you had a friend on your side. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Just remember this when I need you to get me out of babysitting your super soldier boyfriend,” Sam stood, stretching his arms overhead, “He has a tendency of blowing random shit up on covert missions, and I have to justify all the damage to Ross.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you watched Sam walk toward the door. He called out loud enough for Bucky to hear, “Well, I’d better get going. Got stuff to do— important Avenger business.”

Bucky reappeared from the hallway after you heard a flush, his brows furrowed. “Thought you wanted to hang out for a while.”

“I’ve been here long enough,” Sam waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, you know how it is— people to see, world-saving to do.” He gave Bucky a casual grin, one that didn’t betray a single hint of the conspiracy between you two.

Before Bucky could answer, Sam added, “I’ll see you both later. Oh, and Buck?” Sam leaned in, lowering his voice so only Bucky could hear. “Take care of her.”

Bucky’s expression softened, glancing at you. “I always do.”

With that, Sam made a quick exit, leaving you and Bucky alone at last.

You watched him lock the door from the couch, shrugging and not suspecting a thing. He then made his way in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water, his back turned to you as he unknowingly teased you with the way his shoulder muscles moved beneath his fitted shirt.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping further into the couch, hoping he would notice, now that his friend wasn't keeping him preoccupied.

He didn’t.

You sighed louder, more dramatically this time, and when that still didn’t get his attention, you resorted to your favourite tactic: being whiny enough to still be adorable, and only annoying enough to get his attention.

“Bucky….” you called, dragging out his name. “I’m lonely.”

He turned around, leaning back on the kitchen counter. His eyebrows raised, amused. “Doll, I’m right here.”

“It’s too far,” you pouted. You crossed your arms, scrunching up your nose in a way that you knew would pull a tug at his heartstring. It was his weakness. “Come cuddle.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He walked over to the couch, setting his glass on the coffee table. “Someone’s a little needy.” He teased.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day,” you whined again, reaching out and grabbing his human hand, pulling him toward you. “It’s been forever since we cuddled.”

Bucky chuckled. To a degree, he enjoyed keeping you begging for his affection, even though you knew he’d give it to you freely. “We cuddled this morning, darling.”

“That was this morning,” you argued, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes.

He chuckled again. The sound was deep and soothing, blanketing warmth around the room. “Oh, so one cuddle a day isn’t enough for my girl?”

“Nope,” you said, emphasis on the ‘p’ sound. Tugging on his arm, you attempted to pull his large frame onto the couch with you, though your tired strength was no match to his.

Still, Bucky played along, letting himself be dragged down until he was sitting beside you. He draped an arm around you, but not fully embracing you yet.

You weren’t satisfied with that. You wriggled onto his lap, straddling him and pressing your forehead against his, your noses brushing together. His hands instinctively rested on your hips, steadying your frame.

“You’re lucky I’m such a sucker for you,” Bucky murmured, burying his head on the crook of your neck.

You smiled sweetly, wrapping your arms tightly around his form. “Does that mean you’ll give me all the cuddles?”

“Of course, doll.”

Satisfied with his answer, you rested your head on his broad shoulder as his strong arms circled around you. His metal arm was cool against your back, his other hand was comforting as it rubbed soothing circles against the small of your back. You let out a content sigh, melting into his sweet embrace.

Bucky squeezed you as he breathed in your sweet, flowery scent. “Rough day?” he asked as you felt his voice reverberate throughout his chest.

“Mmm-hmm,” you mumbled, nuzzling further into him, if that was even physically possible.

Bucky’s chest rumbled as a soothing chuckle escaped his lips. His fingers continued tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re really not gonna let me move, are you?”

“Nope,” you said, your voice muffled. After a few seconds, you shifted slightly. “Actually,” you started, “this isn’t close enough.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “How much closer can we get?”

You tilted your head, as if pretending to think. “Well... maybe if we were cocooned in a blanket. And you were lying down. And also, you could wrap your arms and legs around me like a human pretzel.”

He playfully rolled his eyes but obliged anyway. He'd do anything for his girl.

He leaned back on the couch, pulling you down with him. You made yourself comfortable, sprawling over his chest like a tabby cat as he tugged a nearby throw blanket over the two of you.

“There,” he said, pulling you even closer. His arms circled around your waist, legs tangled comfortably. “Happy now, clingy?” he teased.

“Almost,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just need you to hold me a little tighter.”

Bucky tightened his grip very slightly.

“More,” you whined, shifting in his grasp.

He pretended to sigh dramatically, but his smile was obvious as he squeezed you. He enveloped you as tight as he could, careful not to hurt you. “You’re gonna disappear if I keep this up.”

“Exactly,” you mumbled, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “I just want to be under your skin. Is that too much to ask?”

Bucky kissed your forehead. His lips lingered for a second as he muttered, "You’re already under my skin, doll." He said, his voice brimming with affection. You could tell he meant it, and in a good way. "And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

-end

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