#i'm a sucker for idiots in love

[veinsfullofstars]

"Still trying to intimidate me? Cute."

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Meta Knight and Galacta Knight based off of a couple dynamics template by @/ReddsMess on Twitter. Original template and source below the cut, as well as a HAL language variant. Top-left panel - high-angle shot of MK lit from above, standing firm and glaring up through his mask, his wings curled out and breaching the panel in places, subtitled "Well well..." Top-right panel - low-angle shot of GK lit from below, looming in the air and leering down through his mask, his wings curled out and his hands spread wide in challenge, both of which breach the panel in places, subtitled "Look who came to see me..." Bottom panel - MK & GK stand next to each other, the latter leaning towards the former and gently caressing the side of his mask with the back of one hand, grinning smugly and wrapping a wing around the knight, subtitled "My Knightmare." MK stands stiffly with his fists clenched at his sides, blushing vividly and glaring away from the warrior. A little flurry of white hearts emanate from GK, while one small one hovers above MK. END ID.)

Started 03/30/24, finished 04/02/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24.

---

HAL language variant:

Original by ReddsMess (template link) NOTE: The artist has marked 16-18+ in their bio, so browse at your own risk!

[janwixler]

It' official ladies and Gentleman! I'm a sucker for red white and royal blue and I'm going to change my ENTIRE blog aesthetic cause the movie is only a month away!

p.s. I read the book halfway on purpose. I don't want to compare the movie and the book, just rediscover the WHOLE story with movie and yes, that's just me lol :")

[shepards-folly]

A wc!birdsibs doodle cause they’ve been in my head. [alt without the wet cat text under the cut]

[romeowho]

just watched someone put on a tie without lifting his his collar and idk that's just funny to me

[moonlight-prose]

i’d love to see your take on #15 from the prompt list: “jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar” w logan 👀 i’m picturing logan in xmen 1 or 2 specifically 😫

have a cigar

a/n: i am such a fucking sucker for the jealousy trope. especially when he's the idiot who doesn't realize he's the only option. the best one in my opinion. but of course he's got his own hangups and his own issues. so i've thrown a bit of angst in here with the spice. enjoy darling! (the title is based off the pink floyd song which gives massive logan vibes.)

summary: everyone knows who you belong to. if the jacket you wore that left you drowning in the soft leather wasn't indication enough, then the claws attached to your guard dog certainly was.

word count: 3.3k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, possessive logan, violence, tw: blood, animalistic tendencies, cigar smoke, alcohol, harassment, spitting, exhibitionism, p in v sex, rough sex, bruising, choking, logan kinda refers to them as an object (out of love), he's literally unhinged.

The bar reeked of spilled beer and shitty cigarettes. A rock song from the seventies blasted from the speakers—crackling every time the front door was jostled open, another patron stumbling in for a night of fun. Raucous cheers erupted from the corner where four men in leather jackets had taken up residence at a pool table; each one betting higher than the other.

You were perched on a stool. A heavy brown leather jacket wrapped around your body, a half finished whiskey in front of you, and a cigar clutched in your fingers. Neither were yours.

Yet you couldn't help but sip at the drink with a happy sigh, the smoke curling down your hand with a familiar scent that twisted your inside.

For the past ten minutes, you'd been staring at the menu. Trying to discern if ordering the mini plate of nachos was worth it before Logan waltzed back in from the bathroom. He muttered about there being a fucking line due to someone locking the damn stall. But you didn't mind.

Time spent with him was worth sitting here alone.

That is until you heard the telltale familiar scratch of a stool being dragged away—someone sitting to your right with a heavy grunt.

You flinched slightly, turning your back towards them, but their knuckles were already rapping on the bartop. Demanding your attention with another grunt. You could smell the alcohol on their skin, the glaze in their blue eyes as you turned, but that isn't what sent fear curling low in your spine. It was the sleazy grin on their lips.

They wouldn't be taking no for an answer.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doin' sittin' here alone?" he slurred, eyes trailing down your form.

Suddenly wearing the simple sundress for Logan felt like an awful idea. Your stomach turned with nausea as he ogled your body without shame. To him you weren't a person. Fuck you'd be lucky if he even asked for your name before he spewed bullshit about taking you home.

The bartender eyed him with a glare, nodding his head in your direction for some affirmation of safety. He recognized you, knew Logan from the countless times he'd been here, and that left you with some peace to cling to. It wasn't much, but you grasped at it blindly. Offering an awkward smile to appease the victim of Logan's fist when he finally returned.

"I'm with someone." You hated how meek your voice sounded; how small you felt sitting here like prey.

He shrugged, leaning close enough for you to smell the vodka on his breath. "I won't tell if you don't babe."

Heavy boots thumped against the floor and you visibly relaxed in your seat as Logan's form filled your peripheral. He stood stiff at your side, hands curling into fists at the sight of a man practically laying across your lap. Your eyes met his, guilt bleeding into your pupil. Only for anger to fill his. His hand pressed to your back, thumb rubbing into your side softly.

"You got a problem boy?" he snapped.

The man sat up too quickly, his body swaying as he met the guard dog attached to your back. "Just talking to the lady man. Fuck off."

You sighed, feeling Logan's hand freeze. Out of all the mistakes that could be made—that remained the worst. The man had dug his own grave. Logan was merely the executioner tasked with bringing this man to his awaited appointment with death.

Who were you to stand in the way of that?

You slipped off the stool, moving with speed to get out of the way of Logan's claws. Slamming the man against the bartop, he set the blades to his throat. A snarl resonated in the place, forcing everyone to go quiet, as you watched in rapture at the sight of Logan pinning a man. Daring him to move.

He cried in pain, blood dripping from the split open wound in his forehead. But mercy wasn't something Logan gave willingly. You felt his love in the form of wrath. A weight against your chest that you sunk your teeth into with a smile.

He was willing to kill for you.

To spill blood for your lips to curve into a pleased grin.

You were breathless even thinking about it.

"Now," he growled, pressing the man down until he heard the snap of a bone. "Wanna repeat that shit to my face motherfucker?"

"N-No." The scent of copper tinged the air, laying on your tongue. "I'm—fuck—I'm sorry! I didn't know she was yours man."

He lowered his face, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood permeating the air. "Touch her again and it's your arm."

Nodding frantically, you watched as the man practically slid to the floor in a mess of tears. Part of you wanted to feel bad for him. A pathetic soul who couldn't find joy unless it was preying on others. Logan's hand wrapping around the back of your neck is what killed those feelings with a swift slice of an axe. The heat of his touch became an anchor against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Sick, twisted, inhumane. You attempted to label the feelings that catapulted right into your chest at the sight of Logan's red stained fist. There had to be an explanation in the back of your mind. A missing piece as to why you felt such exhilaration in the face of violence.

"Motherfucker," he muttered under his breath, slamming the back door open with his foot, his fingers digging a bit deeper. "Thinks he can take what's mine."

Oh. You liked that.

The click of his lighter and spark of a flame illuminated the shadow of possession that lingered on his face. His eyes watched you, trailed down the form of your body beneath his oversized leather jacket. The soft echo of love was swapped out for something tenebrous—something raw.

"C'mere." He spoke the word as if his hand wasn't still around your neck, leading you into his vicinity.

You stumbled over your own feet, eyes wide with the type of veneration he felt slam into his chest. Such a pretty thing, so lovely and soft for him to caress. To call his.

Perhaps this need to claim you stemmed from an animalistic urge he should have tamped down. He knew he looked like an asshole back in the bar, knew that you weren't a fan of when he got his fists dirty. But the need to sink his teeth into the side of your neck until blood poured into his mouth overtook him on his worst days.

It was fucked to even think about. Harming you, marking you, all to make sure that drunken idiots knew to keep their hands to themselves.

That thought alone was enough to make him feel a hint of disgust over his own fantasies.

Until he smelled it.

Cigar smoke unfurled from his mouth, curling low and falling across your face with a soft brush of air. Your eyes fluttered from the scent, mouth filling with saliva at the thought of him blowing it between your parted lips. All you had to do was ask him—place your hands on his cheeks and press your lips to his. He certainly wouldn't be against kissing you.

But something darker swirled to life in your chest. A hidden truth you felt far too ashamed to reveal that you started to tuck away in the back of your mind.

That didn't stop your scent from growing thick in the air, filling his nose with the sharp tang of your sweetness. He could practically taste it on the tip of his tongue. The ache to see it for himself nearly overwhelmed his body.

Something shifted in the time it took for the both of you to get outside away from the prying eyes inside the bar. Everyone knew you were Logan's. That became clear the second his jacket draped your shoulders—his hand a permanent fixture on your hip as he saw with you at the bar. But seeing him confirm a truth already known.

The spillage of blood was a small price to pay to set his words into stone for those to read. Logan was prepared to do far more than that; the need to bend you over the bar and make you cry those pretty little tears only meant for him growing each time you came here.

"Logan," you murmured, eyes half lidded with lust.

"Yeah you liked that huh sugar."

"I–" What could you say to him? I loved seeing you claim me like an animal in front of everyone. That alone felt too fucking embarrassing to admit out loud.

His thumb pressed into the back of your skull, releasing what tension built up. Moaning softly, you curled your body into his, eyes fluttering shut as he massaged that spot until you purred. You were so pliable under his hold, willing to leap when he said the word, and Logan could feel his cock throb at the sight.

His pretty girl.

"Liked seeing me beat a man cause he touched you." Lips curled into a smirk around his cigar when your mouth parted, breaths coming in harder than before. "You'd let me fuck in front of all of 'em wouldn't ya. Just to show them you're mine."

You went lightheaded, slick pouring out of you, as a soft whine broke through the still night air. Something snapped in your mind at the thought—images of Logan pulling your skirt up and fingering you at the bar. Thoughts of him settling you on his lap to cockwarm him as he smoked his cigar at a table. Entirely at ease with the thought of everyone seeing you leak around him.

They all curled low in your belly, cracking open the door of desires you kept locked shut. Pandora's box was finally about to be pried open and yet all you could think about was his eagerness to show off what belonged to him.

Use me. Mark me. Take me however you want to.

Saying them with a shaky voice and shot nerves would do nothing for that unfathomable throbbing between your legs.

Not when he could see it written across your face with a clarity that should have scared you.

"You're my fuckin' filthy girl aren't ya," he muttered, drawing you close enough to taste the cigar smoke off his lips.

"Uh-huh." The dazed lilt of your words made him smile.

So needy for him even in the proximity of a disgusting alleyway in the back of a bar. How could he resist such sweetness?

His hand moved, closing around your throat, as he plucked the cigar from his lips. "Here's what I'm gonna do sugar." Your open mouth gave him enough leeway to blow the remainder of his smoke past your lips—forcing a gasp past your throat. "'M gonna fuck you right here. And I want you to make them hear it."

"A-Are you sure?"

He smiled, pushing you towards the wall and stubbing his cigar out on the brick. "What? Don't you wanna set those fuckers right?"

Nodding, you let him tug up the hem of your skirt of your dress, fingers delving beneath the lace panties you wore specially for him. With a groan, his eyes fell shut at the feel of you dripping so messily for him. Leaking across his hand even before he pressed the rough calloused pads to your clit—drawing a soft cry from your mouth.

"You get this wet watching me sugar?" he grunted against your cheek, mouth hovering right where you wanted him. "Poor thing. Didn't mean to make ya wait."

"Oh fuck," you gasped, fingers curling into his flannel. "L-Loved seeing you Logan."

He chuckled—degrading yet filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. "I should fight in front of you more often. Get you nice and ready for me to fuck you whenever I want."

Whatever response you might have been able to form died in the back of your throat. A choking garbled moan of his name pierced the air when two fingers plunged into you knuckle deep. Curling roughly at your walls with a determined flare. This wasn't him trying to get you off. This was him proving he could.

"You hear that? She's singin' for me baby." The wet squelch of his fingers pounding into you left heat blooming beneath your cheeks and down your chest. "Beggin' for my cock."

"Need it Logan–"

A hand hiked your leg up to curl around his hip, lips finally slotting against yours with a stunted groan. Any coherent thoughts you might have had died with his tongue. He licked into you as if he was looking for something. Claimed your mouth with harsh moans and deep hot strokes against the roof of your mouth.

"I'll give it to you," he bit off, sucking your tongue into his mouth until you trembled in his hold.

He was everywhere. Pulling his fingers free and swallowing your whimper, he hoisted you up and shoved you against the wall so hard your back hurt. The pain quickly dwindled into a dull ache when the familiar clink of his belt buckle hit your ears.

Swallowing his harsh growl, you canted your hips against his. The growing heat in your body fanned into a fire you could no longer ignore; his touch echoing with the embers of something disastrous.

You knew you craved him, but this felt like a baseline urge your body couldn't give up. Some neolithic part of your brain that got off on being protected, possessed.

"You've got no idea how badly I wanna give it to ya," he muttered, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. "Gonna drive me fuckin' insane."

"Yes." The word felt diminutive compared to his, but everything else tapered off into garbled moans of his name.

"Already beggin' and I haven't even started." He smiled cruelly, cock sliding through your slickened pussy with a stuttered grunt.

If you were standing, your knees would have buckled. Even now they locked against his waist to keep him from pulling away. Secrets scratched at the nearly open door as he lined himself, fisting his cock with bared teeth and a throaty growl. There became no use in keeping them at bay. Not when Logan shared the fantasy in his own mind—playing it out like a film projected on your heart.

His hand slapped against the brick wall beside your head, the other snuggly resting at your throat. The flutter of your heart pulsed beneath the vein on your neck, directly along the jugular he often nipped and sucked at. The pad of his thumb pressed down against it—tongue swiping at his bottom lip when you moaned. Broken, pitched high enough to bounce off the alleyway walls.

"So pretty when you're needy." His lips caught yours, spit a glossy smear on your chin. "Can't even think straight without it."

You wanted to agree, to tell him you were nothing if you weren't his.

With a snarl pressed into your mouth he sunk into your pussy in one thrust and your mind went numb. You sagged against the wall, a splintered cry resonating in the air when he bottomed out. Your name a harsh groan—his neck strained and eyes squeezed tight.

"Logan," you sobbed loud enough for it to echo back into the bar. You could practically see them sitting there. Eyes wide and they fought the urge to get off to the sound of Logan fucking you within an inch of your life.

Nails scratched along his clothed shoulders in a desperate attempt at getting him closer when he began to pound into you. Hips slapped against yours with each roll of his hips, his hand slowly tightening around your throat. Even now you stared at him with wonder in your eyes. The glimmer he adored finding its way back into your iris as you admired how he looked.

The way his teeth grit together, nostrils flaring as your scent all but drowned him. He was a mythological being who'd come to declare that you had always been his. That this was merely an act of fate; the strings drawing you two together so tight it cut through your skin and bled you dry.

The hand on your throat shifted higher, prying open your mouth. "C'mon baby. Let 'em know who you belong to."

A ragged moan ripped free from the shackles of your chest, your eyes rolling back as his cock brushed against raw bliss. He smiled, forehead pressed to yours and hips shifting to keep the angle. Even when you began to cry loud enough to alert people on the streets Logan refused to give you a chance to breathe.

This wasn't the man you came with. This was the animal buried deep within his heart; the Wolverine snapping at anyone who dared to come near his other half.

"That's it," he bit out. "You gonna be a good fuckin' girl and cum for me?"

"Mm-hm."

He panted against your lips, tongue licking behind your front teeth. "Can feel her chokin' my cock."

You couldn't breathe. Each thrust sent what little air you had out of your lungs in small breathy whines. He fucked into you with abandon until you swore you felt him in your throat—the echo of skin against skin and the scrape of his boots on gravel when he shifted you higher became your gravity.

With a sharp intake of breath, he dropped his hand from the wall to cup your ass. Swiftly dropping you on his cock to force a scream from your mouth. It clawed up your chest, that familiar aching pull in your torso. The burn you clung to as he tipped your head back and messily spit into your open mouth. You swallowed it with a moan, thighs clenching around his hips.

"That's it," he rumbled, thumb finding your pulsing clit with ease. "Give it to me, yeah? Make a fuckin' mess on it."

A harsh thrust sent your head flying to the back of the wall. Logan was quick to slam his hand behind you, giving you a cushion to stop from severely hurting yourself. His mouth sought out yours with a mumble of your name, hips grinding deep as you came apart with a broken shout.

Bliss tore through every nerve in your body; your pussy now coating his throbbing cock in a fresh wave of slick. Logan moaned high and desperate against your tongue, following you quickly. Neither of you could tell if it was from the adrenaline of the fight or taking you out in the open, but he wouldn't stop coming.

"F-Fuck." He gasped, eyes rolling back as his head tipped. He filled you so much you could feel it leaking out, dripping down your thighs and coating the front of his jeans.

A nasty thought of dropping to your knees and licking the fabric clean filled your head—your walls spasming around him hard enough to make him hiss in pain. You quickly stored it away for later. When the feeling eventually returned to your legs.

"I think they know not to touch what's mine now," he mumbled, stealing a chaste kiss as he rubbed a soothing shape in your hip.

"Logan." He cupped your chin, lips curling into a dopey smile that bled warmth into your chest. "Take me home?"

His nose nudged yours in an act so gentle you nearly forgot how he fucked you a minute prior. "Sure thing sweetheart. Kiss?"

You grinned, eyes still shimmering with that love-struck awe; he felt it clench around his heart. "Well come here baby."

In the dark of the alley his lips found yours, sealing the deal of fate with the fulfillment of a life spent in each other's arms.

[missnxthingg]

Lando scared to hold his baby…just flufffy stuff between him reads and new baby

pairing: Lando Norris x Wife!Reader {daddy Lando au) summary: Lando Norris has held countless of kids through his life, but it's too scary when it comes to his son words: 1 K - warnings: Just an overdose of cuteness!! author’s notes:  As you can see by my previous series, I'm a sucker for daddy Lando. Him being just an idiot and so cute, it's everything I needed. Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it!

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

Lando has two beautiful nieces to which he has helped look after and take care through the years, always taking them on adventures and making sure to keep them entertained so his brother and sister-in-law could have a rest. He had never had a single issue on picking them up, ever. And not to talk about the countless kids that come to meet him on track. Last year, on an event for McLaren, he held a tiny pretty baby in his hands, so his father could take a picture by their car.

But it was different when he came to his baby.

He had been waiting for so long to meet his kid. He and Y/N had been waiting for so long to have a baby, deciding the right time to give it a try, going through the process of trying to get pregnant and finally getting the good news, only to have to wait nine months until they finally met. And yet, when the moment came, he panicked.

“I can’t do this, baby”, he mumbled, stepping away from his wife, who had been carrying their son, Liam, between her arms in the safeness of their maternity room. They had been alone for a good half hour now, getting to know their brand new little son. 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she rocked little Liam back and forth, while he was deep into sleep under her hold.

“What are you so afraid of, my love? It’s just a baby! You’ve held countless babies before, like Mila and Athena. They are fine, aren’t they? You haven’t dropped them in their heads, have you?”

“But it’s different this time”, he brushed a finger through his son’s cheek and sighed. “I’m clumsy. You know me. What if I drop him?”

“You won’t drop him, Lando”, she toughened up, but he still swallowed dry. “Baby, I trust you more than anything in the world. I know you won’t ever do anything to harm our son”.

Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss on top of his cheek. Lando was still nervous and thinking about the idea of holding his son for the first time. It was a big deal; becoming a dad is quite scary. What if he isn’t good enough? What if Liam ends up hating him? What if he harms his precious son?

“That’s a lot o what ifs”, Y/N chuckled, making him realized he had said the last sentences out loud. “Lando, we’re in this together, okay? I know it’s scary, but you can do this. You can do anything. You’re Lando Norris, for God’s sake!”

He took a deep breath and agreed with a nod. Then he found a place to seat, just to be more secure with holding the baby for the first time. Y/N gently place Liam between his arms and stayed close as Lando started to feel more secure about holding their son. She only relaxed when he opened a big smile, bringing their kid closer to his body.

“I’m holding him”, he mumbled, making his wife laugh at the statement. She took a seat next to him and leaned over their son, admiring how pretty he looks. “Oh my God, I’m holding him”.

“You’re doing great, my love”, she pressed a kiss on the crown of his head and cuddled into his arm, making their little family as close together as they possibly could be. “I’m so proud of you, Lan. You’re going to be the best dad in the world”.

“He’s so pretty”, he said, admiring Liam from up close. “Looks a little bit like me already. Mum said I was also born with a lot of hair”.

“We carry them for nine months, only for them to turn out to be exactly like their dad”, Y/N laughed. “But that’s okay, because you’re the dad. I would have ten thousand kids that look exactly like you, if I could”.

Lando laughed at her joke and nudged his nose against hers, just before he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, you know that?”

“For a really long time now”, she smiled.

“Thank you so much for giving me a son. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough for this blessing”, he declared. “You’re the love of my life, and I’m so happy about the little family we’re building”.

“I love you so much too. And I can’t wait to grow our little family a little bit more”, she kissed him again. “Everything is worthy and less scary next to you”.

Lando and Y/N turned their attention back to Liam, who sighed into his dad’s arms, making them laugh at his action. She swore she saw her husband shed a few tears as he analysed every inch of their son’s face from up close. Their little miracle was finally between their arms.

“We’re going to be best friends, little one”, he mumbled. “Daddy and mummy love you so much, and we’re going to have so much fun together”.

He spent the entire day holding Liam between his arms, and would refuse to let go off him under any cost. Y/N begged him to put their son down so he could rest and go to sleep, but all Lando wanted to do, now that he had the confidence, was hold their baby close to him.

“Look at this drooling daddy. Liam, you’re so lucky”, she giggled, pressing a kiss on her husband’s forehead, as he got comfortable between the hospital’s couch, ready for a long night as a father. “I love you, have a good night, baby”.

“Good night to you too, baby. I love you”.

And just like that, Lando welcomed the night and some rest right next to his newborn son, who quietly slept through the entire night in the safeness of his father’s hold. And after that first scare, he was never afraid of holding his kid ever again.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[silverselfshippingchaos]

yeah but. pizza dates with d.ante.

[justaz]

merthur marriage of convenience. arthur is complaining that his council is on his ass about marrying and siring an heir and they keep trying to arrange marriages but arthur doesn't fucking want any of them. merlin knows that arthur would like to marry someone he loves but he also knows that arthur has shown no interest in like anyone except when he was enchanted so like...who tf is he gonna marry? he needs to marry someone to get the council off his ass so he's just like "why not marry a friend? ik it wouldn't be a marriage of love but at least you'd have some control and choice in this." and arthur is like "hm. but who tho?"

anyways they make a list of everyone they know who can bear children (bc arthur will need an heir eventually). then they narrow it down, crossing off names like gwen bc she is happily married to lancelot and in a loving relationship with morgana (she has two hands and i love morgwencelot) and morgana (she's literally arthur's sister but they were just putting every name they could think of down first) and elyan (he may be able to bear children but they know he wouldn't be happy going through it bc of medieval dysphoria). eventually it's down to two names, mithian and merlin and arthur looks at merlin's name then up at him and is like "you're literally a trained physician so you should know this but you were literally born a man...how tf are you gonna bear children?" and my beloved genderfluid magic incarnate emrys just shifts her form to female and is like "don't be an idiot. anyways, mithian or me?"

dumb idiot whipped and in love arthur is like "you" and dumb idiot whipped and in love merlin is like "bet". anyways they marry but they're very insistent it's just as friends. lol they have to consummate the marriage the losers. they insist they did that as friends too. the entire round table has way too much fun with this. anyways they remain married "as friends" as they slowly morph into a very loving and touchy relationship "as friends" until they're like casually kissing as greetings and farewells and have that moment of "oh shit we're like actually married and in love" bc they're stupid dumb idiots.

anyways they unite albion and are recognized as high king arthur and high queen merlin and finally have an heir - the high prince/princess whatever you prefer. uhhhh anyways merthur happy ending bc i'm a sucker for it.

[pressureplus]

Ourmmm can I request a headcanon of nicknames Sebastion and the reader would give each other? Only if ur not busy of course 🙏🏾

This one's really cute, absolutely! nobody has any need to be shy here! ❤️

We're here for the fish content.

💖Sebastian Solace Nickname Headcannons💖

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

If You're Enemies:

• He's mean to most people but he's AWFUL to you

• Half of the things he uses to refer to you are curse words

• Bastard, Dumbass, Dickhead, ect... He can't even be bothered a good portion of the time, not with you

• And then there's days where he's feeling EXTRA

• "You look like your mother dropped you into a plinko machine."

• "Do you always act like you crawled out of the dredges of 4Chan?"

• "Oh, there's my favorite little insect!"

• The second he finds out you have mommy issues, he calls you motherless. You're missing your left eye, hand, leg, or ear? He'll call you Righty. Deformities and Mutations alike, he's petty and likes to take cheap shots

• Chance to call you by your name: 0%

If You're Acquaintances:

• You're probably a buyer, so Patron, Customer, Unfortunate Guest, and Expendable are all on the table

• If you work with him religiously, he might call you something special like 'Traitor' or 'Survivor'

• Customer Service says "try make sale", so he's most often short but sweet. Most of his mean commentary comes out when you're not in the shop

• "Oh, now, There's just the person I wanted to see! Welcome back."

• Doesn't talk to you much, so there isn't a ton of things he really calls you, you're towing a pretty neutral line

• Chance to call you by your name: 60%

If You're Friends:

• Actually genuinely wants you around, so now you get actual, meaningful interactions with this man other than buisness!

• He calls you Stupid and he calls you Clumsy, even occasionally calling you Reckless, Dummy, or Sucker

• If you're a little goblin, he calls you Crawler and Vermin

• And then he turns around and calls you Bestie, Favorite, and even Treat

• "Well if it isn't the Star of the Show!"

• Tends to lean towards positive interactions, as having someone he can truly call a friend to him makes him feel a little better about living in a place like this

• Chance to call you by your name: 40%

If You're Lovers:

• Oh God what have you done? How did you even get this far?

• He's SMOTHERING as a lover, and this absolutely extends to the way he refers to you

• Before, when you were Idiot, Crawler, or Treat? Now you're his little Idiot, Crawler or Treat

• "Is that my little star I see over there?"

• "Ah, there you are, my treasure, I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

• "There's my sweet little light, what are you doing?"

• "Are you doing well, my love? You aren't hurt?"

• "If it isn't my darling little diver."

• Likes that he's bigger than you not to emphasize that you're tiny and sweet to him

• Still hits you with something mean every now and then, probably poking fun at you in some way, most likely as an inside joke or a nickname from wherever your relationship started

• (RIP if y'all started as enemies, he's still going to be a bitch to you on his Extra days, it's a funny habit now... Though I guess now it's playful so you win some you lose some, right?)

• I'm sure you wouldn't have it any other way, you know the sassy fish you decided to keep very well by now

• Chance to call you by your name: 5%

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Get ready for my ✨️Palace of Alcazarzaray✨️:🎉

So... Almighty Creator of Teyvat Reader. We all know that the original inhabitants of Teyvat are dragons, so that means, Almighty Dragon!Creator.

Almighty Dragon!Creator who has a rivalry/resentment/tense relationship when it comes to The Primordial One because of their shades.

Almighty Dragon!Creator who thinks of the original Dragon sovereigns as their children.

Almighty Dragon!Creator who stays and watches over Teyvat, slowly their resentment lessens(even if they stay bitter because their children's powers were taken by outlanders) as they watch their teyvat, their teyvat, get more lush and green and just. Their teyvat becomes full of life and wonder.

Almighty Dragon!Creator who watches Khaenri'ah's fall in solemn silence, who looks at the children of stars in pity. Yet they are not their domain, so they cannot help(or can they).

Almighty Dragon!Creator who watches the traveler's journey, who finds intrigue in the silver companion who looks oh so similar to the Primordial One.

Almighty Dragon!Creator who watches the traveller go through nations, who watches them help Their Children. Who cannot help buy beam at this outlander who helps their children(even if one is still dead(orobashi), even if one will never get his power back(dvalin), even if one has shattered in two and has lost himself(azdaha), and even if one lost theirself to madness(apep), one gets his power back(Neuvillette) and they are so happy for him.)

All I'm saying is: Almighty Dragon!Creator who gets attached to both the Traveller, but also who gets attached to Paimon because of her relation to the Primordial God in some way or another.

Oh and Neuvillette Fluff with them.

- Starboy Anon

Wowie, Starboy Anon! This is a lot of info!

Not saying it's bad (I loredump as heavy as this when it comes to my own stuff), but I certainly have too many headcanons for your headcanons to write a Sagau!Character x Creator!Reader request!

Starboy Anon you have NO IDEA how much I am of a sucker for Azhdaha and Dvalin. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW DID YOU FIND MY HIDDEN WEAKNESSES—

I care very little about the Shining Shades and the Primordial One, so apologies for skipping over them in this headcanon request!

Headcanons: Primordial Dragon Reader—All Shall Bow and Respect Thee As They...Uh...

(Warning: Might Be OOC!)

Alright, pretending that Reader had ZERO RESTRICTIONS on what they can do NOW...Allow this idiotic Ghost Rebel to demonstrate their favoritism benevolence:

Dvalin Headcanons:

Reader absolutely adores Dvalin to bits. You Cannot tell me otherwise. They will literally give this dragon the world if they could.

Reader would definitely give them a human form if Dvalin ever wished to use it to mingle with the mortals in Mondstadt—In fact, Reader would be their tour guide (I have zero references of how Dvalin's mortal form would look like, but I imagine it'd look like a playable character skin—in other words, a very cool one)

I like to imagine that Dvalin loves music so much, he digs into Monstadt's traditional music and begs Reader to have Venti (or another bard) play the tune he finds.

Reader would definitely be the overprotective parent that absolutely hates it when others try to flirt with their children. Dvalin is clueless to these flirtatious attempts, so Reader is helicopter parenting so hard rn LOL

FLOWER CROWNS OMG. I imagine Dvalin would love those! Reader is going to indulge them with so many of them! Even better if Dvalin makes friends (obviously with the Traveler, Paimon, and Venti—those guys are naturally invited)

Reader would let Dvalin try any cuisine, but if it's anything related to alcohol, Reader is definitely going to make sure they are a) not spiked, and b) Dvalin takes a very little amount of it.

Reader's the kind of parent to see their child get a scratch on their skin and freak out and treat it like it's a very bad wound. I think you know where this is going.

Oh, and you know the Abyss Order that kind of manipulated Dvalin? No, you don't—because they no longer exist :)

Would definitely fly with Dvalin in their dragon form, or in their human-dragon form. Whichever Dvalin likes, Reader will follow suit!

Azhdaha Headcanons:

MY DRAGON BOYYYY LETS GOOOO *Aggressive Truck Noises Because Ghost Rebel Can't be Biased—*

Ahem, anyways. Considering that Azhdaha has a bit of something akin to dissociative identity disorder, Reader definitely treats the guy with extra care, opting to entertain both of Azhdaha's "personalities."

Yes, Reader fixes the erosion and memory problem. Yes, Reader gave them a new dragon body that is not purely made out of rock so that it doesn't erode too quickly. Yes, they also gave their child a human form (yk in Zhongli's story quest, Azhdaha took two appearances? Forget those two merging together—just take the color palette off of Azhdaha's dragon form and make something >:) I like to imagine a part of his hair or his eyes glows a certain color depending on the element he's wielding in his human form)

Reader shows them around all of Liyue, considering Azhdaha never really had the chance to see it properly. I like to think Azhdaha would listen to every single piece of information given to them like a sponge in water. Anything that's new or interesting to this guy, he is not backing down from it.

Now, I know the million dollar question: Does Azhdaha get scammed like Zhongli? No, because Reader is always there glaring at merchants that dare try to mess with their children in any way possible. They're also there, telling their child all about commerce and the ways of the trade—something that Azhdaha is into considering mining and ores are technically also in the business industry.

You know the guy that got blessed by Azhdaha, who can now see if rocks are valuable ores or not? Yes, believe it or not, but I believe Azhdaha would 100% check up on the mortal despite being completely tsundere and in denial about it.

HIKING! I think Azhdaha would like to have the mobility to hike—after all, in his dragon form, he's kind of the hefty and large side, so he can't exactly move fast or be nimble. I think he'd really like this change of pace!

Apep Headcanons

No huma form. She refuses to be compared to or even look like mortals. That is something Reader respects.

Technically Reader's eldest child so far. Reader kind of spoils them with loads of things only they can now make for Apep—maybe like flowers, or certain foods, etc. etc.

I like to imagine Apep secretly loves private affection. Reader giving Apep so many dragon hugs, or cuddles, or head pats. Reader spoiling them with literally anything they got lol—

Unfortunately, there's not much I can write for Apep :') There isn't enough lore for me to write on for them....

Neuvillette Headcanons

Reader 100% indulges him in his hobbies of tasting every bit of water.

Fusses over him because he's the Iudex and Reader practically almost curses out Focalors for giving their child such a demanding task, but also thanks her for showing him the ways of mortals yk. Love-Hate relationship.

Reader would bring him certain foods once they figured out what kind of mortal foods he likes.

Melusines? THEY BOTH LOVE THEM, THEY ARE NOW CREATOR'S GRANDCHILDREN (if I remember the lore correctly, I'm pretty sure they are considering they were born from a dragon??)

Reader looks out for Furina whenever they can because Neuvillette is truly Furina's #1 Fan bro—but only because Reader loves Neuvillette and doesn't want him to stress himself out.

THEY WILL KEEP THE SOUP LADLE (yk from that one Lantern Rite event? Neuvillette made a soup ladle in a theme of a dragon?) Anything Neuvillette will make, Reader is KEEPING IT in their DRAGON HOARD.

And that's all I have! Hope you find this good, Starboy Anon! :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: It's been so long since I wrote headcanons! This was a LOT LONGER than I thought it'd be LOLL. Hope you all enjoyed it though! :)

Seeing as we're close to 1000 Followers, I might be posting a follower event very soon 👀 Hopefully I won't die immediately once I post it! (If Tumblr eats your request, I am leaving) Anyways—I'll see you all next time! >:D

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[pure-smut]

iron wall.

featuring: Takanobu Aone x f!reader

contains: some angst to fluff to smut, happy ending!!, tattoo artist!Aone, social anxiety!reader, thigh riding, fingering(ish), missionary, NOT an accurate representation of getting a tattoo (call it creative liberties)

word count: 3.7k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: I'm sorry, I love Aone so much, he's so babygirl!! I'm a sucker for a gentle giant so I needed to get this story down I love him

You’re so excited for your first tattoo. So excited you could throw up, in fact. Oh wait, no, you’re terrified.

The tattoo studio does nothing to soothe your nerves. It’s a small space, seeming all the more cramped for artwork covering every inch of wall and shelf space. You try your hardest not to shrink into yourself.

And then your tattoo artist steps out and a year of social aversion therapy dwindles into nothing.

Takanobu Aone is one of the best artists in the country and you’ve been so, so lucky to get a spot with him. You researched hard, not trusting your first tattoo in the hands of anyone less than perfect. When you saw Aone’s portfolio online, you knew he was the one. Beautiful linework and sweeping designs that seemed to mould to the person’s body. You fell in love with his art.

But his portfolio didn’t have any pictures of him. So when he steps out and greets you with a silent nod, you nearly shrivel up on the spot.

Aone is scary. He’s tall, broad, and – unsurprisingly – coated in tattoos. A seemingly permanent frown is etched on his face, his ice blonde hair cut short. But it’s his eyes – it’s like he’s glaring at you.

“Sorry,” you squeak out before internally scolding yourself.

Sorry?? What are you apologising for? No one’s said anything yet!

If Aone’s confused, he doesn’t show it. He only gestures to an intimidating-looking chair, fitted with an overhead lamp.

Your hands shake so you clench them into fists. You can do this, you tell yourself. This was the whole point of your tattoo. On wobbly legs, you make your way over to the chair and sit down.

Aone looks down at you. You look back up at him. When neither of you says anything, he twirls his finger in the air.

“Oh!”

Idiot, you think to yourself. It’s a back tattoo – he needs to see my back.

You turn around, your chest pressed against the back of the chair, as Aone sits behind you. Even without seeing him, his presence is so large that you feel it. You take a shuddering breath as you hear the buzz of the needle and squeeze your eyes shut.

The tattoo hurts, like a relentless, stinging scratch against your skin. But honestly? You thought it would be worse. Still, the nerves haven’t dissipated yet, and nausea swirls in your stomach. Especially when you feel Aone’s hands on your skin, resting against your back as he works.

“You’re doing well.”

Aone’s voice is so sudden and unexpected that you nearly jump. It takes a second for you to register what he’s said but when you do, warmth rushes to your cheeks.

“Th-thanks,” you stammer out.

“Will music help you to relax?”

His voice is deep and smooth. You’re glad you’re facing away from him because you don’t want him to see the blush in your cheeks just from listening to him speak.

You tell him your favourite songs and he sets up a playlist. By the time he starts up the tattoo again, you are feeling more relaxed. It helps that you don’t need to look him in the face, that you don’t need to mould your reactions to what you think is right. Every so often, Aone will let you know how well you’re sitting for him and each time, it makes your body feel like it’s on fire.

By the time he’s finished, you’re nearly dizzy.

Aone must notice because he offers his hand to help you stand. You take it, gratefully, but keep your eyes averted, too embarrassed to look him in the face.

“First tattoos are hard,” he says solemnly and you’re glad he thinks it’s the tattoo that’s had an effect on you and not him.

Aone hands you his card as you pay up. It has a list of tattoo care instructions as well as his phone number and socials.

“Any problems, contact me,” he says.

You finally look up at him. What you had thought had been a glare before now looks completely different. Aone’s eyes are sharp but they’re kind, his face serious but concerned. Under the intensity of his gaze, you find it suddenly hard to breathe.

You want to thank him, to tell him you’ll be happy to contact him if anything comes up. To say anything normal at all.

But an iron wall wraps around your chest. You don’t want to say anything stupid or embarrassing. So you give a short nod and leave without saying anything at all.

*

It’s only a few days before your tattoo starts to itch. You diligently cream it as Aone’s card instructed you but the position of the tattoo means you can’t reach all of it. There’s a patch in the middle that’s neglected and so, so goddamn itchy.

After all the research, effort and money spent, you desperately don’t want your new tattoo to heal badly. But you have no one to ask for help. It’s your own fault, you know. You’ve spent the years since you left home for college isolating yourself from everyone. Too worried about saying the wrong thing or doing something embarrassing. Too concerned over whether people are laughing at you instead of with you.

And now you’re stuck with an itchy tattoo that you can’t fully reach.

Aone’s card sits innocently on your desk, almost taunting you. It takes another two days before you gather up the courage to tap out a message to Aone.

He responds within minutes with instructions to come to the studio.

That’s how you end up back in the chair, your favourite songs playing again, too embarrassed to look behind you at Aone.

“The itch is worse than the pain,” he says, rubbing cool, soothing cream gently over your tattoo.

Despite yourself, you smile. Maybe it’s your favourite music in the background, maybe it’s the fact you don’t need to look at him. Maybe it’s the feel of his gloved fingers being so gentle on your skin. For once, you don’t overthink before you speak.

“The pain wasn’t so bad after a while,” you say quietly. “But the itching goes on forever.”

Aone chuckles. It catches you off guard – you wonder what he looks like when he’s smiling.

You sit in comfortable silence for a while.

“This is so embarrassing…” you mumble to yourself.

“What is?”

You startle, not realising he heard you. Your cheeks burn.

“O-oh… just… y’know, all of this,” you say clumsily.

“All of what?”

“I-” A lump appears in your throat. You realise how stupid you sound. “I can’t reach my tattoo.”

A puff of air escapes Aone’s nose.

“Not embarrassing,” he says. “I fainted during my first tattoo. That is embarrassing.”

The image of Aone – broad, muscled, serious-faced Aone – fainting during a tattoo is so unexpected you snort with laughter.

“You didn’t!”

“I did,” he says gravely. “I was too nervous to eat breakfast so my blood sugar was low.”

Aone withdraws his hands to lean in close. You can feel the warmth radiating off him on the back of your neck and shoulder. When he speaks, his breath tickles your cheek.

“They had to give me a lollipop.”

You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth. Aone chuckles and stands, snapping his gloves off. You rise with him, still giggling, and get a glimpse of his smile for the first time.

It’s small, just an uptick at the corner of his mouth, but you can’t stop looking.

“Next time you feel embarrassed, remember the lollipop,” Aone says with a firm nod.

You grin, meeting his eyes. Inside you, a small chip skitters down the iron wall.

A crack.

*

Aone tells you to come back every day at the same time for a week, until your tattoo heals. You find yourself looking forward to it and you end up chatting long after he’s finishing creaming your back. You wonder if this is it – you’ve beaten the insecure demon inside your head.

Until one day you don’t.

It’s the last day you’re scheduled to visit Aone’s studio. Maybe that’s the reason why a stab of icy fear lodges itself in your heart every time you try and open the door to leave.

You stand at your front door, key in the lock, but your hand is frozen. Your breathing turns ragged and your vision swims. You can’t turn the key. You can’t leave your home. Your sanctuary. The only safe space you know.

Except Aone’s studio.

Except Aone.

You know you’re going to be late but still, you can’t bring yourself to leave. With shaking hands, you message Aone, apologising and saying you won’t make it. He messages back instantly.

Are you okay?

You don’t know what prompts you to respond honestly. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from fighting the anxiety in your head. Maybe it’s because Aone has always been sincere with you. Maybe it’s because you don’t have to look at him when you respond.

Maybe the iron wall is breaking.

No, you type back.

He asks for your address, saying he’ll come to you. After chewing your thumbnail down to the quick, you give it and throw your phone onto the other side of the bed.

You barely have the energy to drag yourself from your bed when the doorbell rings. You know you should feel embarrassed opening the door in your pyjamas, hair unbrushed and eyes puffy with no sleep. But when Aone steps in, face serious, and pulls out a lollipop, the only thing you feel is relief.

You burst into tears as Aone pulls you into his arms, pressing you against his chest. He’s firm and warm and holds you tight. He doesn’t say anything. He lets you soak the front of his shirt with your tears.

When you’ve cried yourself dry, your sobs dwindling into sniffles, Aone pulls back to peer down at you.

“Food?”

You spend the day with takeout, watching movies together on your laptop in bed. You sneak glances at him every so often, admiring his profile, and have to quickly look away every time he notices. It should be embarrassing… but you know he’s looking at you too. You can feel his intense gaze when you’re watching the movie, can feel him watching you when you get up to go to the bathroom.

When you return, instead of lying side-by-side, you turn your back to him, pulling the laptop in front of you. Aone turns to spoon you, wrapping one large arm around your stomach. You melt into him, immediately relaxed.

It reminds you of being in his chair, faced away from him but knowing he’s there.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the movie. “I know I get too nervous and say weird stuff.”

“What weird stuff?” You can’t see him but you can hear the frown in his voice.

“Like…” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Like when I first met you, I didn’t even say hi. I said sorry, for some weird reason.”

Your mouth goes dry as you recall your first embarrassing memory with Aone. The one that still keeps you up at night as you replay it, thinking about how awkward you looked and how weird he must think you are.

“That wasn’t weird,” Aone says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “People think I’m scary. They don’t sit next to me on the train and they apologise when they meet me.”

You blink at the laptop, twisting slightly so you can look at Aone. He looks back at you.

“They do?”

He nods.

“You’re not weird. You’re normal.”

Aone says it with absolute sincerity. You think on this for a moment before fully turning, facing him. Aone settles his hand on your waist, his sharp eyes locked on yours.

You’re normal.

A rush of relief floods through you and your eyes water, nearly bursting into tears again. Aone notices because he tightens his grip on you, his hand on standby to brush away any tears.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him. “I’m okay.”

And it’s true. It’s the most okay you’ve felt in a long time. A flood of affection clouds your mind and you look up at him to smile.

“Thank you for rescuing me today,” you tell him.

“Always,” Aone says seriously.

It’s only one word but it steals your breath. You feel like you’re falling. You grip onto the front of his shirt, anchoring yourself.

One word and your iron wall crumbles.

You tilt your head up until Aone’s face is only inches from yours. You’re offering yourself up, offering your heart on a platter, open and vulnerable. You close your eyes and wait, blood rushing in your ears.

Aone moves his hand up from your waist to cup your face. His skin is hot against yours and you can feel his heart beating through his chest.

“Always,” he whispers once more before he closes the gap between you.

Aone presses his lips softly against yours. Your hands snake around his torso, feeling the hard muscle of his back. His lips part yours gently, cautiously, wary not to pressure you too much. You let him, meeting his tongue with your own and melting into him.

Aone uses one arm to wrap around your back, pulling your body flush to him as his other hand grips your thigh. He tugs your leg over his, nestling his thick thigh between your legs, and pressing against your mound. You gasp lightly into his mouth.

Aone pulls back, eyes opening.

“Is this okay?” he asks, searching your face for any sign you’re uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “It’s… it feels good.”

You try hard not to grind against his thigh but when he leans down to kiss you again, you find your hips moving on their own. His firm muscle pressed against your clothed pussy makes your clit throb with need. You haven’t felt this turned on by anyone in a long time, your sex drive long since evaporated. But Aone is awakening something inside you, a heat in your stomach unfurling.

You hold onto his shoulder, solid as a rock, and grind against his thigh.

Aone trails his hand down to your hip, his grip gentle but firm.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, reluctant to break the kiss.

“Mhmm.” You catch his bottom lip lightly between your teeth. “I’m sure.”

Aone hardens his grip on your hip, guiding you as you rub your clothed pussy against his thigh. The friction is delicious, sending little sparks up through your body and soaking the crotch of your panties and pyjama shorts. You’re forced to break the kiss to bury your face in his chest, whimpering.

He’s bringing you close to the edge, so, so close. But it’s not enough.

“More,” you practically beg him. “I need more. Please.”

Aone grunts and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He’s large enough that you’re spread lewdly beneath him, thighs open. It would normally make you flustered – embarrassed – but it doesn’t.

Because it’s okay. It’s Aone.

He looks at your with stars in his eyes as his hand reaches down, sliding under the waistband of your shorts and panties. Your hips buck as his fingers find your swollen clit, slippery with your arousal. He traces small, featherlight touches around your sensitive bud. Aone knows his own strength and he’s always cautious of being too rough. He watches your face carefully to see your reaction, applying slightly more pressure until your nails sink into his biceps.

“There!” you gasp. “Fuck, right there. I’m so close.”

Aone listens, his cock straining against his jeans. You would normally feel your cheeks burn under the intensity of anyone’s gaze, let alone Aone’s, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure he’s giving you to care. His fingers are relentless, keeping up a steady pace, no faster or slower than exactly what you need.

When your back arches and your mouth falls open, Aone dips his head to swallow your moan, kissing you deeply through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping. It’s only when you pull away, too sensitive to continue, that he withdraws his hand.

But he can’t stop kissing you. Your soft lips and the taste of the lollipop he brought you still on your tongue. Aone knows you’ve opened yourself to him, he knows you’ve summoned every ounce of courage you have. He feels like he has a baby bird in his hands and he’s scared to hold you too tight. To crush the precious thing you’ve given him.

So when you come down from your high, he makes to roll off you, not thinking of himself or his throbbing cock.

You stop him, hands on his biceps and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“I want you,” you whisper, voice hoarse from moaning. “All of you.”

Aone searches your face for any uncertainty. He only sees your eyes alight, holding his gaze firmly. He thinks back to your first arrival in his studio, when he couldn’t even tell what your face really looked like, you kept your eyes so averted. The corner of his mouth upticks with pride.

You reach up to wrap one hand around the nape of his neck, carding your fingers through his short, white-blonde hair as your other hand reaches down to his jeans. He helps you unbutton them, tugging them down along with his boxers and throwing them both off the side of the bed. Aone straightens to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. Tattoos decorate his thick torso, artwork following the curves and dips of his body. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not even hiding how absolutely, completely attracted to him you are.

Aone’s expression doesn’t change much but his eyes glint and you know he’s pleased by your reaction. He reaches down, hooking his thumbs under the hem of your pyjama top and tugging it off. He gazes down at you, face soft, his eyes tracing over your body.

You’d normally be fighting the urge to cover yourself but you don’t feel the need to do that with Aone. You want him to look at you.

Aone leans down to pepper soft kisses down your neck, to your breasts. One large hand massages your tit, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It’s like your nipple is directly connected to your clit, making it throb with every touch. Aone sucks your other nipple, mouth hot against your skin as his teeth lightly graze you. It’s electrifying. You can feel yourself getting wetter, a scorching heat between your legs.

You need him inside you.

You tug on the roots of his hair gently, pulling his face back up to yours. Aone kisses you deep and slow, one hand reaching down to line his cock up with your entrance. You can feel the fat mushroom tip nudging between your folds. You pull your knees up, wrapping your legs around his hips to give him better access.

Aone pulls back from the kiss. You chase his lips with your own but he cups your cheek, holding you away.

“I want to see your face,” he says.

 He locks eyes with you and pushes himself inside.

Your mouth falls open and your brows scrunch in the middle as Aone slides his cock into your tight hole. You’re more than wet enough for him but his cock is as thick as the rest of him, stretching you with a burn that’s half pleasure, half pain. You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as Aone shallowly pumps himself inside you, going a little deeper each time. Each stroke of his cock sets your nerves on fire, sparks running through your whole body to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“Holy shit,” you grit out. “You’re – ah! – You’re so b-big.”

“Are you okay?” Aone stops still. “Are you in pain?”

You shake your head, wrapping your legs tighter around him.

“Don’t stop,” you beg him.

He gives a short nod and keeps going, slowly working himself deeper until he’s bottomed out. Aone waits there for a while, letting you adjust to the size of him. You’re desperate for more friction, your pussy clenching him tight.

“You…” He collapses onto his forearms, burying his face in your neck.

His hand tangles in your hair at the back of your head, holding you to him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathes. “You’re doing so well.”

Aone’s praise sends a thrill up your spine, so reminiscent of the first time you met. He presses his mouth against the shell of your ear.

“I’m going to move, okay?” His voice is hoarse.

You nod and he starts to pull back, keeping his body pressed against yours. It should feel smothering, his large body covering yours, but instead it feels safe. Secure.

Aone keeps a steady pace, not pulling out all the way before thrusting back into you. Your greedy pussy pulling him back in every time, your plush walls squeezing him, not wanting to let him go. His cock rubs against the sensitive spot inside you, the trimmed hair at the base stroking delicious friction against your clit. The combination is indescribable. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to roll back again, your orgasm building faster than you can register.

Aone can feel it. The way your tight pussy gets even tighter, the whimpers you make from the back of your throat, the way your thighs squeeze his hips. He can’t get enough of it. He wants to last as long as possible so he can stay here forever. Stay with you, like this, forever. But the way you’re gripping him, milking his cock, makes it impossible.

“I’m gonna cum, angel,” he groans. “Cum with me.”

His words are enough to tip you over the edge. Stars burst behind your eyes. You cry out his name as your thighs tremble and your toes curl, creaming on his cock. Aone grunts, half-moaning, as buries his cock inside you, thick ropes of cum coating your walls.

You hold him close, not wanting him to leave even as his cock softens inside you. Aone stays where he is, wanting to prolong this moment as long as he can. He presses gentle kisses against your neck, hugging you close to him.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbles in between kisses. “Thank you.”

You smile and catch his lips with your own.

“Always,” you whisper back.

masterlist

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[moviecritc]

Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕

obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux

warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)

a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33

Remember that requests are open 💕💕

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yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙

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user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip

charlesleclerc 💜😍

user2 so dry

user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles

user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101

sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜

user5 IM SO IN LOVE

user5 that i might stop breathing

user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness

user7 GOALS.

user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out

user9 it's giving taylor and joe

user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations

When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.

Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.

Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.

She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.

Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.

Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.

Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.

So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.

When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.

yousername just posted!

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yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎

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alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙

sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩

gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.

chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.

laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.

She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.

"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.

"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.

She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.

"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.

Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."

"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."

Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.

"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.

"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.

"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.

"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.

Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.

"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.

They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.

Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.

As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.

"No," she denied vehemently.

Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.

Five months later

alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!

[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]

[iid-smile]

bedtime , kaji ren

x fem!girlfriend!reader ! kaji affectionately calls you an idiot, plus him making the reader sleep. secret kissy??! :O

author's note: idek what to put here ngl but this is just cute! i feel like kaji is the kind of guy who would enjoy watching you sleep. not in a weird way, but it makes him feel like you're safe around him yk??? enjoy!

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

it's midnight. friday, transitioning to saturday.

you and kaji are just laying in his bed, facing each other. not touching, just facing each other.

his headphones were on, and you could hear the beats of the music, obviously turned down in consideration for your own ears. his eyes were closed but he's not asleep, giving you the perfect opportunity to trace your own all over his face, admiring all of his features. even though he doesn't, you've always found kaji extremely attractive. he's so pretty...

his eyes, always so sharp. his eyebrows, always furrowed at you, especially when you say something weird. and his mouth, oh, his mouth. his lips and teeth combined is the best. the way his lips get all sticky when you smear his lollipop all over before you kiss him, and the way his canines would peak out every time he puts a new sucker in his mouth... he just looks like a puppy in your eyes.

"ren?" you quietly call out to him. he couldn't hear you, but he felt your breath on his face.

he hums as a response, letting you know he was listening. you see how his eyes open slightly, gaze fixed on you. every couple of seconds, he would slightly move his jaw in a way to silently ask if you were going to say something, or if you were just going to say his name again. he was patiently waiting for you to speak.

"take these off.." you say gently, pointing at his headphones.

he takes a second or two to process the request in his mind, before raising his eyebrows in question. he was wondering why he needed to remove them. but he does love you, and if you wanted him to hear you, then he'd do just that. after another second or two, he slowly reaches a hand up and pulls the headphones from his ears, letting them fall around his neck. "why?"

"just wanna enjoy the silence with you." is your reply, and you shift a little closer to him. "and see your pretty face in full."

kaji slowly lifts up a hand and gently smacks your cheek. actually, it wasn't a smack, more like aggressive patting if anything. it was kind of a way of telling you that your statement was stupid, in the most caring way possible. "don't be weird." he mumbles.

"i'm being serious." you pout. he slowly lifts his other hand up to also pat your other cheek. for some reason, you willingly lift your head off the pillow a bit to let it happen.

"well seriously, quit bein' freakin' weird." he says softly. "don't want you to get tired because you're stayin' up all night. i'm not some kind of damn art exhibit."

"could be."

you could see how his face was threatening to turn into a scowl, but it doesn't. "seriously. go to bed. i don't care that you want to look at me or whatever, but i'm not gonna let the idiot i love stay up all night." he says quietly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction more.

somehow, your brain seems to have removed what he said on the start, and specifically focused on those last words. what a way to subtly say "i love you".

"mm..."

"sleep."

"'kay."

kaji very slowly lets go of your cheeks. once he's sure you've listened, he pats your cheek lightly one more time before his hand falls to his pillow once again. "there. that wasn't that hard, was it?" he starts to mumble again, his eyes tiredly watching you. a sigh exits through your nose, and you succumb to your fatigue.

you slept quite well that night, knowing that there's somebody right by your side to protect you, even if it was just nightmares. or did you imagine the part where something pressed against your lips?

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[elstercat]

Finally came around to drawing possessed Philza.

So here is possessed Philza challenging Chayanne to the fight while the Enderking is slowly taking over Phil's body. Kind of want to draw the other side now, with Chayanne and Technoblade, but I already have so many ideas in the pipeline I can't.

Can we also talk about how not enough people draw the sword Philza is currently using on the qsmp? The sword has just such a cool design that I want to draw attention to it.

(no hate, I'm just a sucker for detailed armory. Please, let Philza never turn up in a full knight armor, my fantasy-armor-loving idiot-self would spiral out of control)

[aachria]

Hats make up 80% of a pirate outfit, change my mind.

Correct anatomy is for LOSERS and people with BRAINS of which I am NOT—

Me? Drawing hair with actual shapes and texture n shit? More likely than you think. But clean shading that doesn't look like a toddler finger painted it? No chance in hell.

This piece fought me. It fought me hard. I was up until 3 working on it and still didn't finish it until like ten minutes ago, and I need you to keep in mind I started working on this when I wrote the chapter at the end of June 😭 It has changed SO FUCKING MUCH and I had to completely start over at one point but GODDAMNIT IT WAS WORTH IT. RIP the 44 hours of tracked canvas time + whatever it was for the first iteration. It's fine I didn't need a life anyway.

Remember that time I said Luffy was a different flavour every time I draw him. Anywho. Big fan of Luffy and his big weird unnerving teeth, right here.

Let's not talk about Ace's dumb looking abs instead let's talk bout how that son of a bitch should have SO MANY freckles, like all the freckles, so many freckles you start to question your sanity. And you KNOW I had to hit him with the 'woe, piercings be upon ye' beam. The way I got so sad I posed him like this so I couldn't draw the tattoo or his bracelets and Log Pose but was in too deep to turn back—

You never notice just how PAPER FUCKING PALE Ed is until you put them next to someone who knows the touch of the sun, huh... And as always I'm a sucker for the rings 😌

The fucking cowboy hat has been a long time coming and I have been WAITING with baited breath for this chapter.

Anyway I love these idiots with my entire heart sure hope nothing bad happens to them—

[ashwhowrites]

So I had this idea, that Dustin had two older sisters who are twins. Steve didn’t notice anything while at high school he doesn’t know. So one day he comes into work and asks Robin, “did you know about the Henderson twins? And why is one dating Eddie The Freak Munson?” Dustin starts trying to get Steve to date his other sister. Steve agrees reluctantly but doesn’t expect the sister to be hot and dislike him, bc of high school. He has work to do.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻

Date my sister

Steve was popular in high school, which meant everyone knew him but he knew no one outside his friend group. He started to notice people once he graduated and realized being popular hurt you more in the long run. Which is why his friends are Robin and freshmen.

Steve walked into work, a sigh on his lips as he clocked in. Robin had been bouncing on her feet all morning waiting for him to arrive. She had new information and she loved talking to Steve. He was a talker like her, so he didn't get annoyed with her last words.

"Did you know Dustin has twin sisters? Around our age, and one of them is dating Eddie Munson!" Robin lived for gossip and Steve was a sucker for it.

"Holy shit, no way," Steve scoffed, "I've known that kid for years and never heard about them."

"Yeah! They graduated with you, you never noticed them?" Robin asked.

"Well no, but I didn't look outside my friend group. But still! How could Dustin never say anything? And why have I been using my gas when he had two sisters to drive his ass around." Steve knew he had to talk to Dustin the next time he saw him.

~~~

Dustin was on Steve's tail before he could confront Dustin.

"Please! Ever since Eddie has been around, Y/N has gotten more lonely. Which means she's getting a temper and being moody. I think you would like her, just ask her out." Dustin pleaded. He needed his house to be less angsty and more fun.

"Dustin, I don't know. No offense, but a girl version of you doesn't sound like my type."

"I've seen girls you've asked out. You are desperate enough to ask anyone." Dustin argued back, a bored look on his face.

"Shut up," Steve groaned

~

Steve knocked on Henderson's door, then moved his hands to his back pockets. He waited for the door to open, thinking of how to ask Y/N out when he'd never seen her before. He promised Dustin to give it a shot, but one shot.

He looked as the door opened, and his jaw dropped.

"Dustin isn't here," she said, already closing the door. But Steve shoved his foot in, hissing as she kept closing it.

"I'm here for Y/N," he said, a sigh of relief when she opened the door again. A suspicious look in her eyes.

"Why?" she asked

Steve wasn't sure which twin he was talking to, but he prayed it was Y/N. Because she was beautiful, and Steve could already feel that he needed her. She wore casual clothes to relax at home, her legs on display. Steve couldn't help but check her out, his eyes leading him up her tank top and back to her face.

"Y/N, WHO'S AT THE DOOR?"

Steve smiled as his prayers were answered.

"STEVE" she yelled back. A good enough answer for her mom as she went silent.

"I want to ask you out on a date," Steve admitted. He stood terrified under her heated eyes.

"Oh really?" She asked, her arms crossed with a scoff. "Why's that? You obviously had no idea it was me when I opened the door. You had no clue who I was in high school, so why are you randomly interested?"

Steve had no idea if lying or telling the truth was best, but he went with the truth.

"Dustin wanted me to ask you out and at f-"

"Yeah, I don't need the charity date." She cut him off as she slammed the door shut.

Well, he asked and that's all he promised Dustin.

~~~

"YOU IDIOT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOOD AT TALKING TO GIRLS" Dustin yelled as he raced into the video store.

Robin immediately laughed with a scoff, "Who ever said that?"

"One of you at a time please!" Steve begged, moving his eyes to the younger and pissed-off boy.

"She asked why I was suddenly asking her out and I wasn't going to lie. She'd see right through it. I figured she'd be less pissed off. It was like the second she saw me, she hated me." Steve explained.

"Well, she's pissed! I had to listen to twenty minutes of her bitching me out on the way to school and when she picked me up. Turns out she hates you, dude! Being an asshole in high school really impacted some people." Dustin explained

"Yeah, I learned that. But I asked her out and she said no. So my job is done." Steve said, holding his hands in surrender.

"Then you need to make her like you!" Dustin argued

"Why?" Steve asked, his hands on the counter as he leaned over to stare at him.

"She'll never admit it, but she's lonely. She needs someone, and well I trust you to not hurt her" Dustin shrugged

"But she hates me, why would she change her mind?" Steve asked

"Show her the new you. The changed Steve. Sweep her off of her feet. Do whatever dumb stuff you do to make girls like you." Dustin explained.

"I'll try," Steve sighed. Because honestly, he hadn't stopped thinking about her.

~~~

The next time he saw her, she was bringing Dustin to the video store. He didn't notice he was fixing his hair until Robin poked fun at him. He shrugged her off and walked to open the door. Dustin gave him a sly thumbs up.

"Welcome in," Steve greeted

"Since when do you open doors for customers?" Y/N asked, but walking through the opened door.

"I don't, just you," he said, smirking as he walked behind her cutting Dustin off.

"Oh right, now trying to win me over?" Y/N asked, smiling over her shoulder.

"Let me know if it ever starts working," he said with a wink. She hated herself for watching him walk away.

~

Y/N was relaxing in her front yard. A book opened as she felt the warm breeze through her hair.

"Hello, gorgeous," Steve said as he walked up to her. She could feel the sun being blocked by his body, making her look up.

Steve had his hands in his pockets, smiling down at her with those pink lips. She cursed at herself for wanting to smile back.

"How can I help you?" she asked, shielding her eyes with her hand.

"Dustin wants to go to the arcade, you wanna come?" He asked, "promise you won't be the third wheel." He scrunched down, his knees bent as now he was closer to her eye level.

She inhaled his cologne and hated how she loved the smell of it. It was easier to hate him when he wasn't right next to her.

"I'll pass," she said with as much sass as she could. Trying to keep up her unbothered attitude. She went back to her book, ignoring the burn she felt from his eyes.

"Maybe next time," he said, standing up as Dustin walked out.

~

"Dustin please go with me?" Y/N begged. Her favorite band was in town and she really wanted to go. Her sister had a date with Eddie and she refused to ditch. None of her friends liked the band, and she didn't want to go alone.

"I already have plans with Mike, but you know who is free tonight?" Dustin hinted as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Absolutely not," Y/N said, shaking her head. She knew what he was going to say, and she could not be alone with Steve. It was getting harder to keep up her act when being with him broke it all down. She can't imagine being alone with him, she's pretty sure she would fall for him. And she couldn't. She needed to be strong.

"Here's his number. Just call him," Dustin said. He went out the door and left Steve's number behind.

She stared at the digits until they began to move.

"Fuck me," she sighed to herself. She punched in the numbers and listened as it rang.

"Steve," she froze as she heard his voice on the line. She took a deep breath and reminded herself it was just a boy.

"Hey Steve, it's Y/N," she said. She could hear him starting to move, and a lot of commotion.

Steve hissed out as he stubbed his toe against his bed, trying to ignore the pain as he rushed to the other side of his room. He was already stripping out of his PJs.

"Oh hey!" he said through heavy breaths, "what's up?" His voice cracked and he smacked himself in the face.

"Look you weren't my first choice so don't think this means anything. But, would you like to go to a concert with me?" She asked, closing her eyes. A part of her already regretted asking.

"Um yeah, when is it? I can take off work." He asked, he could feel his heart racing so fast.

"In like two hours," she said

Steve looked at his watch. "Shit, um yes! I need to rearrange some things but I'll be at your place in an hour."

And with that, he hung up.

After an hour, Y/N was finishing getting ready. She finished her lipstick as Steve knocked on the door. She smiled at her reflection and began walking towards the front door. She smoothed out her shirt and jeans before she opened it.

Once it was open, Steve came into view. He stood there in a blue short sleeve and dark jeans. And a beautiful bouquet of roses.

"Wow," Steve said, rubbing his chin as he took her in. "You're always gorgeous, but wow."

"Thank you," she said as she felt her face burn. "You look very nice too."

"Thank you, these are for you." He said as he handed over the flowers. She reached forward to grab them, shivering as his touch sent electricity through her.

"Thank you, Steve. But you know this isn't a date." She clarified.

"I know, but still felt like I shouldn't show up empty-handed."

~

They arrived at the small bar, Steve was a gentleman as he opened her car door and the bar door. She hated how sweet he was. He grabbed her a drink and they moved through the crowd.

"Ready?" she asked, a playful smile on her face as she stood in the middle of the pit.

"For what?" he yelled into her ear, shocked when her hand slipped into his. He felt his face burn as he looked down to see their hands interlocked.

"TO GET TO THE FRONT," she yelled. Steve went to say something but then she began pushing through the crowd. He gripped her hand tighter as she made her way to the front, he kept apologizing to everyone.

He felt like it was wrong but once they made it to the very front of the stage, he was amazed by the stage.

"Oh wow, I've never been front row before," he said. He was hoping she wouldn't remember that they were holding hands.

"It's the best way to experience a concert. I've seen them every time they come to town and refuse to not be front row." Steve loved the way her eyes lit up as she talked about it. And how her body softly moved to the music that played throughout the bar's speakers.

"I haven't experienced many concerts. Always too loud for me," Steve laughed, taking a sip of his cold drink.

"Oh, if you don't like them, you didn't have to say yes," Y/N said, feeling a tad guilty for dragging him into something he didn't enjoy.

"Are you kidding? No way in the world I would say no to you asking me out," he said, a charming smile on his face.

I asked you to join me! Not ask you out," she said, but her smile was playful. It seemed like she was warming up to him.

He was in awe of her smile, but then the lights went dark and everyone screamed. They stared at each other as the stage lit up, not looking away until the band began to play. She turned to look at the stage, and he kept his eyes on hers.

She let go of his hand to clap. Jumping as the band performed. Steve had never seen her so loose and fun, not that he had much time to be with her. He was happy to be here in the moment, and so happy Robin took his shift.

The rest of the show went amazing. Steve danced to every song with her, holding his drink, and keeping eyes on everyone around her. It seemed her drink broke down some walls as she moved until her body was pressed against Steve's. He tried to keep his calm as her ass pressed against his jeans. He placed his free hand on her hip, the other one holding his unfinished drink. Their bodies moved together to the live music, he felt like his head was in the clouds as he inhaled her perfume and shampoo.

He could feel himself getting slightly turned on, chugging the rest of his drink and tossing it to the floor. The drink made his body hot, and her body felt hot when he placed both hands on her hips. He started dancing against her, she turned around and hooked her arms around his neck.

"ENJOYING THE BAND?" She yelled into his ear, her lips ghosting over his ear.

"I'M ENJOYING SOMETHING ELSE," he yelled into her ear, pulling away. His face was inches away from hers, he was getting lost in her eyes and didn't notice he was leaning in.

Her heart sped up as she looked into his deep brown eyes, she looked down at his lips as he leaned in. She softly played with the end of his hair near his neck as she closed the space between them.

Steve was slightly stunned as she kissed him, but kissed her back. His hands moved up to the bottom of her back as he deepened the kiss. The sound of the band and cheering fans faded as she felt his tongue slip inside her mouth. She tangled her hand in his hair, yanking it. She bit down on his lip and used her grip on his hair to pull him away. He stared in awe as she yanked his bottom lip and then released it.

"GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY!"

The band left the stage, and the crowd began to break apart. But they stood tangled together.

"Do you kiss like that to everyone you ask to join you?" Steve joked

"I don't, just you," she said, leaning in and kissing him again.

Steve owed Dustin big time.