#sorry that's his protege to me

[selfshipping-haven]

i love dark choco cookie so much....i could make him so happy....i could kiss him and love him and tell him that he's a good lovely person...

[lucaanis]

『🐦‍⬛』 — "Poisoned ballista bolts. Guaranteed to solve your blighted dragon problem. Let's bring them down, Rook!"

[moonshynecybin]

People being crazy about Marc/Pecco is funny because if Pecco wasn't a VR46 rider no one would care or at least not as much. It always comes back to Vale

not trying to yuck anyone's yum i simply literally do think it all comes back to vale being insane. like unfortunately

[dreaminginmysoup]

People always like to theorize who in the cast Silver is a descendant of and ignore the truth: he's related to all of them.

[no-144444]

Mark my words.- o.piastri

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summary: mark slips up about your marriage.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! rb!mechanic! wife! reader

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He crossed the finish line, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Sure, Checo had crashed in the last lap and Max had gotten p6. Not a good result, but then again, that’s what you had told Christian would happen if he didn’t let you build the car. 

You were Adrian’s protege. You were the next Newey. Christian was just too focused on the past. 

“Fuck!��� he groaned, slamming his headset on the desk. 

“I told you so,” you sighed, leaving him at the desk and running to the parc fermé. Oscar would be coming through in mere minutes, and you wanted to be there to see him. Secretly dating another team’s driver wasn’t easy, but you two made it work. You were both lowkey about things, even though you’d been married for about a year now. You stood beside Nicole, far away from your own team, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see the light in his eyes when he came up to his mum and you. 

Nicole wrapped her arms around you, cheering as you both relived the moment that Oscar had won. Oscar Piastri, 2 time Gran Prix winner. He’d proven himself time and time again, he wasn’t a second driver, and McLaren now had a difficult choice to make. 

But all that was for another day. Today was about Oscar. 

He ran over to the team, finally spotting his mum and you beside her. You could see from his eyes that he was smiling. She pulled him into a tight hug. 

“You did it!” she cheered, holding him close. “I’m so proud of you.”

He pulled off his helmet, smiling at her. “Thanks mum, love you loads,” he smiled, then turned his attention to you. “Not bad, eh?”

You smirked. “Not bad Piastri.”

“Not bad for you either, Piastri,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 

“Go get weighed idiot, I’ll catch you in the airport, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t miss you for the world,” he winked, then walked off to continue the celebrations. 

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You woke up the next morning, sore, with Oscar beside you. You groaned as you turned over, shutting off his alarm. “Osc,” you yawned. 

“Shush,” he whispered. “Five more minutes.”

“Oscar, we need to get up,” you reminded him, but he just tightened his grip on your waist. “Come on Osc, I need a shower.”

He smirked and you rolled your eyes, not missing his innuendo. “I could-”

“We did enough of that last night, give me time to recover,” you laughed. “Worth a shot,” he smiled. “Alright, I’ll start on some breakfast.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet greeting (also short because his breath stinks in the morning) and you went your separate ways. This weekend was Singapore, and you knew how tough it was on every driver, engineer, and mechanic. Singapore was always the race you dreaded. It was unpredictable and hot. Way too hot. 

You came out of the shower to see Oscar pacing the kitchen, on the phone with a very stressed Mark. “No I understand that, but I thought they wouldn’t hear us… I-I didn’t mean to-“

“Oscar, it’s too late mate. You’d better just come out with it, or get your mum to, or something. People are getting really confused and they think Y/n is your sister or something,” Mark sighed

You burst out laughing, making Oscar laugh. 

“They think we’re siblings?” you laughed. “What the fuck?”

“You did call her ‘Piastri’ to be fair mate,” Mark chuckled.

“Well that is her second name!” he defended.

“Osc, just post our wedding photos or something,” you shrugged. “Or we could just let people speculate.”

“Sorry baby, but I don’t really love the idea of people thinking you’re one of my sisters,” he mocked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. 

You shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast he'd made you. “I don’t care, I’m just an insignificant engineer from RedBull.”

He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re so helpful,” he responded sarcastically.

“Using sarcasm as a defence mechanism because you don’t want to admit you’re the breadwinner of the family? How humble and noble of you,” you laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek and squeezing his ass, making him jump. 

“I hate it when you do that,” he scoffed, batting your hand away. You knew he loved it. 

“Anyways, what’s our action plan lads?” Mark asked. 

“Up to you,” you shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“Will I post on twitter and act like it’s been common knowledge?” He suggested.

“Mate, no one would believe that. You’re known for keeping things secret and being nonchalant, just do that,” Mark laughed. 

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. “Thanks Mark.”

“See you in Singapore,” he sighed and you grained as Oscar hung up the phone. 

“Fucking Singapore,” you groaned. 

“I know,” he nodded in agreement. “Hopefully this year I won’t be as ill.”

“Let’s fucking hope so,” you smoothed down his hair. “You need to start brushing your hair baby. It’s so awful in the mornings.”

His lips became a line and he nodded. “Humbling me isn’t always necessary,” he breathed out and wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your ass as he pressed kisses on your face and neck. “But it is appreciated,” he finished sarcastically, as you pushed him off giggling. 

“You’d appreciate it more if you took the advice,” you muttered, taking a bite of your toast. 

He shook his head, chuckling. “How’d I get so lucky?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You shrugged. “By using the dark arts?” you teased and he just laughed. 

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You walked into the Singapore paddock with Lando, deep in conversation about his upcoming birthday party. You usually weren’t photographed all that often in the paddock, and when you were, it’s usually because you were beside a driver or someone more important, mostly because you were known to ruin photos. Holding up your middle finger, threatening to flash the camera, etc, it’s what has made you a Gen Z favourite. You also refused to go up on the podium, no matter how many times Max asked. You were pretty low-key about everything, it worked well. 

“So I was definitely thinking a DJ, but what about the dress code? Should it be casual? Business casual? Black tie?” he questioned. 

You rolled your eyes. “Club attire Lando, it’s being held at a club, let people dress like they’re going to a club.”

He nodded, as if he’d never thought of that. “You’re a genius!”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you sighed as he walked off to the McLaren motorhome. 

You walked off to the RedBull motorhome, noticing more cameras on you than normal. Most people just left you alone, it wasn’t often that the camera followed you (mostly because of your aforementioned behaviour), but tonight they wouldn’t let up. 

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Even as you sat in the pitlane, chatting to Daniel, you were still being recorded. 

“Do you know what this whole thing is about?” you asked Daniel and he looked at you like you were crazy. 

“Have you not seen what Mark posted?” he asked, his eyes wide. 

“What the fuck did he post?” you asked, rushing to get your phone out. 

And there it was. Mark had announced it for you. 

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aussiegrit

tagged: oscarpiastri , reallyy/n

Liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen and 872,928 others

aussiegrit: These two crazy kids were too busy being in love (and winning races) to tell you guys that they’re married! Love you two xxx

comments

alexalbon: oh oscar’s going to go mad.

landonorris: marks time of death: now.

oscarpiastri: I WANTED TO POST FIRST

oscarpiastri: THIS SHIT IS UNFAIR. FUCK YOU MARK -> reallyy/n: someone will be sent to the stewards if you don't stop with the language...

pierregasly: it still freaks me out that they're MARRIED and 22 and 23. like wtf. -> kikagomez: 👀 -> pierregasly: ... -> user82: SHE CLOCKED YOU I FEAR

user93: I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS (no i'm not.)

user22: THIS IS SO ADORABLE WTF

sebvettel: good memories! officiating was such a blast! -> user883: SEB OFFICIATED? -> user21: it makes sense, y/n has been super close with the schumachers and seb since she was a kid because of her dads job as a mechanic in f1. he worked for ferrari from the 1980s to around 2015. -> user02: LORE DROP?????

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“That dickhead!” you cursed. “I’m going to go find Osc, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and sent you on your way. You had to tell Oscar, he definitely didn’t know yet, right? He was going to lose it at Mark, he wanted to be the one to post, he wan-

And you walked into someone. Someone wearing papaya. Oscar wearing papaya. Oscar. 

“Did you see?!” “Did you see?!”

You both chuckled, then remembered the situation. 

“I’ll kill him for you if you want?” you offered and he just smiled. 

“It had to come out somehow,” he shrugged. “Though, those aren’t the pictures I’d pick.” 

“We all know what pictures you’d pick,” Lando interjected, winking at you. Oscar elbowed him. “I meant your wedding pictures!” “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we can call him later and kill him together. Sounds good?” 

He nodded, wrapping a hand around your waist, the other landing on your ass. “Sounds great.” 

He quickly pressed his lips to yours, feeling all of the cameras on him, but still not caring. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you smiled before walking away, back to your conversation with Daniel. 

Mark was going to get murdered, that was just a fact. Mark your words.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

���⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[7seas-of-ryy]

Another Hangover Cure

Author’s Note: I got this idea from @yearninglustfully on this post! I recommend reading Hangover Cure first!

Summary: You, Rhys, and Cassian aren't allowed to be together alone anymore... but what about when the three of you are paired up for business?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Platonic!Rhys x Reader, Platonic!Cassian x Reader

Warnings: drinking, implied smut, let me know if I need to add any others :)

Your specialty for the Night Court had always been spells and wards. You could easily place a spell or ward anything. Your intelligence is what made Rhys invite you to work for him so long ago. That is how you started at the Night Court and it quickly became your home.

For a while, you had been practicing breaking wards and spells. It was much harder than it seemed and you had yet to master it.

Rhys had brought you a box that had been warded many many years ago and after working on it for a month, you told him you needed help. It was a much older and stronger magic than you were used to and you weren't afraid to admit when you couldn't do something.

After much contemplation, Rhys decided he would go to Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court, to get his help. He wanted you to come with and told Cassian he would also be coming for extra security.

You were currently in a meeting with everyone in the IC discussing this.

"Absolutely not. You three cannot be trusted together." Az immediately stated.

Feyre and Nesta immediately agreed with the male.

"Listen, we need Y/N for this so she can learn and see how its done. This is literally her area of expertise, she is crucial for this. I am the High Lord, it is a curtesy for me to go and the only reason Cass is going as security is because the rest of you are busy." Rhys told the group.

"Don't think I forgot about the tree you three stole!" Az responded.

"You told him?!" Cassian asked you.

You grimaced and gave him with a sorry look.

"This won't be like us going out for a night out, this will be us doing work." You reasoned with Az.

"Yes, strictly business" Cass added with a salute to the shadowsinger

"Fine, but not for too long. You three have to come back by tomorrow." Az compromised.

"Deal." You, Rhys, and Cass all said in unison.

Azriel pulled you aside before you left.

"Please be safe my love. And as much as I am worried about the three of you together, I do want you to enjoy yourself still...just not too much. Helion can get handsy." He ended the sentence with a scowl.

"You're the only one I could ever want. I promise I will be safe and responsible." You told him

He placed a kiss on your forehead and helped you strap on your bag.

"I love you so much, have a safe trip." He spoke and then placed a loving kiss on your lips.

You heard Cass make a gagging sound and Az rolled his eyes at his brother.

You walked over to him and Rhys and the three of you started the journey to the Day Court.

Azriel, Nesta, and Feyre all stood watching you three leave.

"This is not a good idea" Nesta spoke

"Terrible idea" Feyre agreed.

"Lets just hope they learned their lesson last time." Azriel added

The three split up and went to do their work for the day.

Once you made it to the Day Court, Helion was quick to greet you.

"Ahh Y/N, my protege! I am so excited to teach you my ways." He announced and brought you in for a kiss on the cheek.

"Hands off, Helion. I promised my brother I wouldn't let you be all over her." Cassian told him

You all laughed and after the rest of the greetings, he led the three of you inside.

The warded box was laying on the table in front of you all while Helion examined it.

"Hmm this is rare and old magic indeed. I believe the reason you could not crack it was that it requires two to break the spell." He told you.

You let out a sigh in relief, knowing that it wasn't entirely your fault that you couldn't figure it out. The Day Court High Lord explained what you had to do and how these specific wards worked. You actually learned a lot from him and were grateful for this experience.

The two of you worked on the box and eventually broke it open. Rhys stored the contents of it in his bag and began to talk.

"Alright, well thank you for all of your help. This has been very-" he started but Helion cut him off.

"You're leaving already? I had a whole meal and night planned, which included the finest wine we have to offer." He told you three with a smile that showed all his teeth.

You looked over at Cass who was already smiling at you and then Rhys who looked to be contemplating his next words.

"It would be rude to leave when they went through all the effort of putting it together for us." Cass spoke before Rhys could.

"So its settled! You're staying. I have rooms for you all so you can stay the night as well. Our wine is no joke, you probably won't be able to have three glasses before blacking out." Helion stated, leading you to the dining room.

The four of you ate a lovely meal, sharing stories and enjoying the wine. It seemed every time you would drink it, it would fill itself up. Perhaps thats why a few glasses would get someone drunk beyond belief.

Before you knew it, you were already feeling tipsy. You could tell the others were as well, due to their pink cheeks and loud voices.

"Are you guys interested in seeing how the Day Court parties?" Helion asked.

"Absolutely!" Cass responded.

"I'm intrigued." Rhys added.

You just nodded and giggled, knowing the wine was taking over quickly.

That was the last thing you remember from the night. Well, you remember dancing and laughing, a lot of laughing.

---

"I can't believe they did it again!" You heard Feyre speak.

"I can. I told you it was a bad idea." Nesta added.

Azriel just stood in silence watching the mess on the ground with a smile on his face.

He didn't care that he had to come help you after you had a fun night. He trusted you and he trusted his brothers. He secretly enjoyed getting to take care of you for the day. He was just concerned with you getting so drunk that your shields would be down.

Your eyes slowly opened and the feeling of drinking too much wine last night hit you. You were laying on your back sprawled out like a starfish. Everything hurt and you had no idea what you were even laying on.

You slowly began to roll over and continued rolling as if you were going down a hill until you hit the floor. Once you looked over, you realized you were laying on top of Rhys, Cass, and Helion, who were all bunched into a ball, and there was a...door laying between Rhys and Helion. You weren't even sure who's limbs belonged to who, they were so twisted up.

They all started to wake up after you moved off of them and all were groaning and grunting in pain.

"Is this what you call strictly business?" Az asked with a smirk on his face.

"Don't tell me we did it again." Rhys mumbled

"Cass why are you wearing my socks as gloves again?" you asked, holding your head to stop the pounding.

"At least I didn't go through a wall this time." Cass said in defense.

"Actually..." Helion stated as he raised his pointer finger and pointed it at the wall behind them, "we both went through that wall. Y/N sure can make one hell of a ricochet ward."

"Helion, you told me you would watch over them so it wouldn't happen again!" Feyre scolded him

"After you told me about how these three party, I wasn't going to let the night go to waste. I wanted to have some fun!!" He defended himself.

"So that's why my glass kept refilling itself!" You said in an accusatory tone, pointing at him.

"Ok I'm leaving for 20 minutes to let you four figure out what happened and once I get back I want to know everything." Nesta stated and Feyre and Az followed her.

"Well, it could be worse than this, I guess." Cass stated

"Could it?" Rhys retorted.

You grimaced and looked around as a memory hit you.

"Helion, did I ride a pegasus last night?" You asked

"I believe you did and I believe it bonded with you." He replied with a nod of approval.

You looked over at Cassian and only then realized he was entirely orange.

"What happened to you?!" You exclaimed.

"I don't know!" He replied starting to freak out.

"I can help with that one. You said you could pull off any color so Y/N bet that you wouldn't look good if you were orange." Rhys said, his voice rough

You looked at the orange male with a sorry look and said, "oops?"

"Rhys, why are you laying with a door on top of you?" It was Helion's turn to ask.

"I was cold." Your High Lord told him.

The four of you were silent for a few moments, just watching each other.

"You have a black eye." Cass told Rhy.

"You're missing a tooth." Rhys told Cass.

"Y/N warded my hand to make it stick to whatever it touches so when I peed, it got stuck to my..." Helion admitted, his voice getting softer towards the end of his sentence.

"Oh, Y/N, no..." Cass said in horror.

"You have got to stop drunk warding things." Rhys added.

You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.

"This is worse than last time!" Cass exclaimed.

"Our 20 minutes are almost up and we still don't have our story straight. I mean, I don't even know how they knew to come for us. Do you guys?" You exclaimed

Cass and Rhys shook their heads no.

"I think I let them know their assistance would be needed in the morning... but I might have also sent them our breakfast order." Helion explained.

"Breakfast sounds so good right now" Cassian groaned and the rest of you made noises of approval.

"Ok, heres the plan. We pull ourselves together and act like we had a normal night with a normal amount of drinking." Rhys told the rest of you.

"They saw you using a door as a blanket!" You whisper-shouted at him.

"It's not the best plan but its the only plan we've got." He replied in the same tone.

"I think they're coming. Act natural." Cass whisper yelled.

Feyre, Nesta, and Azriel all entered the room and looked around.

You were leaning with your elbow against a wall, resting your hand on your head. Rhys was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, his ankle resting over his knee while he pretended to be deep in thought. Helion was leaning against a table pretending to read a book. And Cassian was standing in the middle of the room with his eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"You're all idiots." Nesta deadpanned.

"Rhys, how could you let this happen again?" Feyre spoke dissapointed.

Azriel was quiet so the sisters looked over at him, they were expecting him to scold the group as well. When he didn't, Feyre nudged him.

"Do you have anything to add Az?" She asked him

He was still just smiling at your attempt to be normal and shook his head no.

"I just want to get my mate home as quick as possible." He stated

Everyone snapped their attention to him, even you.

"Mate?" You questioned.

"Mate." he stated with a huge smile, "in the middle of the night, I recieved a breakfast order from Helion. I assumed that meant the four of you were incredibly drunk. I was going to let you have your fun and wait til you got home to poke fun at you but this morning I felt it snap into place."

You walked to each other and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you in for a kiss. The urge to be close to him was stronger than ever now.

"Let's get home." You told your mate, bringing him in for another kiss.

"Quickly please, before the two of you start devouring each other's faces in front of us" Cass spoke with a gross look, but you knew he was happy for you.

Azriel lifted you up and started flying with you, headed back to the Night Court.

"Do you want me to make you some food once we get home?" Your mate asked you.

"No, I just want to get home as fast as possible. I need you." You told him, his eyes darkening at your insinuation.

"You seem to be feeling much better than when you woke up. I think I truly am the best hangover cure." He joked.

--

After you got home, the frenzy started and lasted a little over a week. Once it calmed a bit, you finally showed up to the River house for a nice family dinner.

Conversation was flowing and that night out got brought up.

"You know, I really don't remember much of that night." Cass said.

"I know everything that happened." Azriel spoke before taking a bite of food.

"WHAT?! How?!" You exclaimed.

"After everything that happened last time, I made sure to send a shadow with you for your safety. It hung back and watched, it would alert me if you were in real danger. Before we showed up to get you guys that morning, it reported back to me what happened the entire night." He spoke so matter of fact.

"Show me." Rhys told the shadowsinger.

You watched as a grimace overtook the High Lord's face, watching your entire night get played in his head.

"Yeah, the three of us aren't allowed to be alone together anymore." Rhys stated with a horrified look on his face.

"We want to know!" Cass complained.

Rhys replayed everything in your and Cass' mind. There was nothing but silence for a few moments.

"I'm deeply sorry." You told Cass with a grimace.

"You pulled my tooth out!" Cass shouted, jumping up.

"In her defense, you did tell her, 'I bet you can't pull my tooth out.'" Rhys added.

Azriel pulled your chair closer to him, wrapping an arm around you. The three of them might be idiots but he loved them and felt grateful for his family.

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[starlightshadowsworld]

When it’s the teen members of the agency who mess up or something, it’s usually Kunikida who talks and lectures them about it. Sometimes the others will join in like Dazai or Yosano and if it’s really serious Fukuzawa will get involved, but it’s generally Kunikida.

But when the senior members of the Agency mess up or something it’s always Fukuzawa who talks to them. The only one who gets a bonus Kunikida lecture with it is Dazai. And it’s always so surreal for the teens to watch them hang their heads theatrically and head to Fukuzawa’s office.

Kunikida���a lectures pretty much always start with "what the hell were you thinking! Oh that’s right, you weren’t!" While Fukuzawa ages like 30 years, sighs heavily into his tea and is just like "I’m not mad, just disappointed."

And yet both end them by offering support and making sure everyone’s okay. Because at the end of the day whatever mistakes were made can’t be changed, what we can do is go forward with what we’ve learned to change what comes next. And all these talks come from a place of concern, of care.

Kunikida put down his tea cup. "How do I know if my words will reach them?" Fukuzawa looked from his protege to the door, gesturing him to open it. Kunikida did so, and was surprised to see Atsushi on the other side. "Oh, erm sorry Kunikida I didn’t realise you guys were busy I can come later." Kunikida shook his head, they were just wrapping up anyway. "What’s wrong Atsushi?" Atsushi went quiet before explaining his issue. "I was going to do it alone but earlier you said to call one of you for help. And Miss Yosano is busy and Ranpo and Dazai are out."

Kunikida nodded "I’m glad you came to me. Go back to your desk, I’ll be there in a minute." Atsushi smiled, relieved and went. "You’ll know" said Fukuzawa, getting Kunikida’s attention. "You’ll know your words have reached them when they come back and ask for your more." He said with a proud smile.

[bitchface24-7]

Can we do angst with Viktor x Vastaya reader since they're long lived?

PSST PSST PSST - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you've known Viktor ever since you two were kids, and you've always known deep down that you'd never get enough time with him. Even without the grey plaguing his lungs, you're a vastaya; you live much longer than a healthy human. Never mind a chronically ill one. You'll either help Viktor find a cure, or you'll ensure you die with him.

warnings: talks of illness/death, passive suicidal ideation (you don't have a plan, it's a what-if kinda deal), love confessions, childhood friends to lovers, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I'm so sorry, I’m not sure if I could just write pure angst (my babies already been through ENOUGH) so I made it a little fluffy to help my hurt heart. Hope y'all enjoy!

You remember the day you met Viktor like it was yesterday. He was by a ravine, fiddling with a toy boat. He was alone, and so were you.

The kids in Zaun were just as cruel as the adults could be. They didn't like Viktor due to his weak leg, they didn't like you due to the fact you weren't human. So you decided to be brave and introduce yourself to the boy.

He was apprehensive at first, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. But after a minute of friendly discussion, his demeanour softened. It completely melted when you asked him how he built his boat, with sparkles in your eyes as you were invested in his explanation.

After a while, he introduces himself, “My name is Viktor… what’s yours?”

You smile and give him your name. Viktor nods before his lips thin and he looks a bit weary again, “Are you sure you want to be friends with me? I’m sick.”

You throw his question back at him, “Are you sure you want to be friends with me? I'm not even human.”

Viktor giggles, “I’ve always liked cats.” He lightly pokes one of your ears and you play along, flicking your ear in mock irritation to hear his giggle again.

“And I don't care that you're sick. We’ll find a way to make you better.”

Viktor's eyes sparkle as he looks at you, and with that; the start of a wonderful friendship is born.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The years go by and Viktor's illness progresses slowly. Some years it stays stagnated, in others it progresses rapidly.

And you're there for every second of it.

While Viktor works away in a lab with his partner Jayce trying to improve the world in the one way he's confident in, through science; you work at a small but well-known boutique in Piltover. The academy is most notably known for their STEM programs, but there's a multitude of others to choose from. Architecture, anthropology, culinary, mixology, english, politics, cosmetology. You name it, the academy has it. So you chose fashion design.

The only reason you've even been given this opportunity is because of Viktor. Heimerdinger was desperate to make Viktor his protege, but Viktor had one demand. You'd be able to come with him.

Heimerdinger couldn't refuse.

So it’s no surprise when you get a call at work and damn near drop the phone in a panic. It’s a clinic, Viktor’s their patient, he fainted, you're his emergency contact on file, he wants to see you.

Your co-worker can already tell something is wrong and ushers you to leave. “I can hold the shop down no problem. Go deal with your emergency.”

You thank her profusely as you rush to the clinic, your hind legs much stronger than a humans; you get there in half the time.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor looks so small in the bed. A nasal cannula in his nose giving him a steady stream of light oxygen. His skin is even paler and he has a smidge of dried blood on the philtrum below his nose.

You grab a moist towlette and go to clean the blood with a small, “How’re you feeling?”

A small chuckle escapes the man before a coughing fit erupts from his chest. You hastily bring over his cup of water and help him drink it, not wanting him to get his hospital gown wet.

“I’m doing better than I was about an hour ago. I finally convinced Jayce to go home to sleep.”

Your ear flicks in annoyance as your eyebrows furrow, “How long have you been here?”

Viktor purses his lips and looks away from you.

“Viktor.”

“A few hours.”

“What! And I'm just getting called now?! Viktor!”

“If I had it my way, you wouldn't have been called at all!”

You reel back at that, you can feel your eyes stinging.

“The nurse said you wanted to see me.”

Viktor sighs, relaxing back into the bed as best he can, “I did, I do want to see you. But I don't want you to see me like this.”

“Tired?”

“Dying.”

The look of resignation on Viktors face pulls at your heartstrings. He looks so downtrodden. So tired.

You cup one of Viktor's hands in your own, “You said that you and Jayce found something with the hexcore. Maybe that's the key! It saved that plant, it could save you too.”

Viktor sighs, “I don't know why you've stuck by my side for so long. I'll be nothing more than a blip in your lifetime. An insignificant speck in your story.”

The grip you have on Viktor's hand tightens, “Because you're my best friend and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You smile lightly and shake your head, “No Viktor, I love you. I'd rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. Who cares if my lifespan is longer than yours? You act like I won't follow you. Like I wouldn't fight all the gods to get you back. And if that wasn't an option, we’d be together forever in the cosmos. It’s you and me, together and always.”

Viktor sits there stunned as you look at him with all the love you have tucked away in your heart, and it’s quite a lot.

You shuffle slightly on the wooden chair, you feel like you're going to throw up due to the nerves, “…Are you going to say something?”

But Viktor isn't a talker, he's a doer. So he shows you the best way he can.

He leans forward and kisses you. It's the most passionate, loving, all-consuming kiss you've ever experienced. When the two of you eventually pull away, you're left speechless and you swear your eyes have hearts in them. You know for a fact your pupils that are typically slits are completely blown out now.

A purr encapsulates the room and Viktor smugly cozies himself back into his bed. You feel your face heat up as you hold yourself back from throttling him. Purring is very special. Very few people get to hear a vastaya purr, and once Viktor heard about the specialty and connected the dots on how often you purred around him, he made it a game to see how quickly he could get you to make that wonderful sound.

This is the quickest way by far.

“Have I ever told you how much I like cats?”

You smile fondly at the man, cupping his face with one of your hands, “Once, the day we met.”

Viktor hums, “You’ll be hearing me say it a lot more now.”

A loud laugh escapes you and Viktor looks at you with nothing but love.

“Do I have any competition with the stray cat you feed by our apartment?”

“No. Blitzcrank is a menace, he’s more like our sucky child. You’re my favourite.”

You huff at him as your purrs pick up in volume, the kiss you plant on his cheek is full of possessiveness, “I better be.”

“You are, darling. You are.”

Tadaaaa!!! This idea was so *chefs kiss* it’s a very interesting dynamic I never would’ve thought of myself. If you saw the LoTR reference, no you didn’t. Hope y’all enjoy!

[innerempire]

The Avengers trying to raise funds for god-knows-what and Natasha comes with brilliant naughty idea of a pin-up calendar of their youngest Avenger. There's nothing like showing some skin, and it's obvious (be it in Twitter, Instagram, Tiktok, or Reddit) that the public unanimously think that the newest addition to the team - Peter Parker - is pretty fucking hot.

Sure, they've not seen his face before, but that lithe body in that spandex? Peter's the only one comfortable with actually baring his ass for the calendar (Steve acknowledges that Captain America's ass is still one of the finest, but he's not fucking baring his ass cheeks for a goddamn calendar).

Thing is, Natasha has to run through the idea with Tony first because she thinks that Stark acts like a unhinged guard dog out for blood when his favorite protege is involved. She's not stupid to try and go behind Tony's back on this.

''I'm sorry, what-'' Tony swipes at his keyboard, interrupting Natasha from her tangent.

''Don't mind him.'' Peter pipes up from where he's tinkering with his latest project. ''He goes 'huh' a lot these days.''

Tony points a wrench in Peter's direction, ''Zip it.''

''Look, we want something that's going to sell. People love Peter in spandex, and what's hotter than hip keeping his mask on and, you know, executing a couple of suggestive positions with his ass showing. Pepper thinks putting him in a thong would make people go insane-''

''Are you-'' Tony rubs at his mouth. ''Did you even sleep after your coming back from your mission with Barton? Or am I the one hallucinating this conversation?'' He tries to mentally compute the last time he had slept.

''Peter said yes.''

Peter's neck is flushed, ''...I figured, since it's for charity...? I do have a pretty nice ass, especially when it's in spandex. So, you know, me in a thong would be-''

''Okay.'' Tony claps his hands together, startling both Natasha and Peter. ''I'm going to get a drink. Preferably something really strong, because I'm going to pretend that you didn't just waltz in here to tell me that you want the kid's bare ass on a pin-up calendar.''

''Prude.'' Natasha clicks her tongue disapprovingly at Tony.

After Natasha leaves, an amused Peter wheels his chair over towards Tony, ''So, which one bothered you more? The fact that people are going to own a calendar with like 12 months of Spiderman's bare ass, or the idea of me in a thong? Or panties, you know, the ones with the bows and frills that you have stashed deep in your wardrobe. I'm assuming they're for me, after you tell me that you've been fantasizing about this. But hey, if they're for you, that's pretty fucking hot too, Mr.Stark.''

A couple of months later, the idea does push through (under Tony's strict supervision). Because Peter's such a little shit, he signs the first printed copy and leaves it on Tony's desk with a note: Do me a favor and film yourself jerking off to the calendar, Mr. Stark. P.S: You'll love the month of May.

Of fucking course the month of May is Peter in the panties that Tony had so generously gifted to him - a gorgeous satiny piece that's gold and red.

The calendar is obviously a hit and during the next Avengers gathering, everyone's teasing Peter to sign their copies.

''So.'' Natasha sidles up to Peter. ''How bad did Tony give it to you for having your bare ass out in that calendar?''

''...they had to use two whole tubes of concealer and a shitload of powder and foundation even after a week after what Tony did to me.''

[glamourscat]

you’re now my new friend so im gonna complain about some fans🤭🤭🤭

THE OTHER THING I WANT TO TALK ABOUT IS tim isn’t weak????? its canon damian says “drake is stronger than i like to admit” or something like that but the idea is that tim is canonically strong i mean cmon he’s a bat??? i saw something that another writer wrote and i really don’t want to disrespect but she(?) wrote something like tim couldn’t do the ‘jacked and kind’ trend. HE CAN HE HAVE TO IF HE COULD NOT HOW CAN HE BE A BAT HE HAVE TO BE STRONG

and he’s really smart like i don’t even now how to say it but its conan bruce think tim can even be smarter than him and damian says tim is the smartest!!!

i mean i get it tim isn’t the most popular robin but he’s really great but tiktok and tumblr makes him look like an idiot who’s just soft??? HE IS NOT his story is really interesting if you just read instead of making him look like some weak thing.

and bcz of the misinformation people just don’t like tim😭😭😭😭

and i don’t even want to talk about coffee addiction LIKE PLS STOP THIS MADNESS

ps:i probably made grammer mistakes sorry🙏🏼 AND i would like to send some asks when im more awake😭😭😭 it’s 3am rn

Don’t worry about it ahaha. Me and grammatical errors are like this 🤝🏻. Also, if you’re comfortable with it, let’s be moots 😭. I honestly need more people to yap with about Tim.

and yes ofc! Feel free to send more asks about Tim whenever u wish :)

Now, onto what you said. YES, YES, AND YES AGAIN. Thank you! I’m going to be honest here, I think Tim’s mischaracterization as “weak” boils down to the fact that many people see him as a twink……. The amount of art, both drawn and written, where he is depicted as this frail little thing that can’t think for himself and is weak and shy is too big. I mean, are we looking at the same character?

When I see people butchering Tim’s character, it’s clear to me that they haven’t read the comics. I’m not saying you need to read ALL of them—that’s just absurd considering the number of runs there are. Just the main ones could be beneficial. You know, having a general idea about the character.

He was trained by Bruce (and we know Bruce’s training is anything but easy), Nightwing and lastly, Lady Shiva herself. He has mastered many unarmed styles of fighting, including Leopard Kung Fu, Savate, Judo, Capoeira, Karate, Dragon Kung Fu, and Bojutsu.

He might not be a tank like Jason (side note: let’s remember Jason is the way he is thanks to the Lazarus Pit, because he was malnourished growing up, which stunted his growth). Just because Tim isn’t ripped and has a leaner build doesn’t mean he is weak. Nor does it mean he is stupid. His IQ is 142, and he is cited as the most analytical of Batman’s proteges, with detective skills on par with Batman himself. Like you said, BRUCE HIMSELF says he believes Tim is smarter than him in some ways.

And on the coffee addiction—that’s so funny to me because, if I’m not wrong, he drank coffee ONE time in canon, someone made it his personality, and everyone ran with it 😭.

I just can’t. Honestly, Tim is a skater boy. A punk at heart, who listens to bands like Oasis and Green Day. He is absolutely obsessive at times, loud and opinionated. He is a child prodigy and grew up rather isolated. Then his mother died. He and his father got into deep arguments because of his job as Robin. He stopped, then started again. His father died, and he found his father’s dead body while wearing his Robin uniform. He escaped Bruce for about a month, forging a fake adoption certificate from a FAKE uncle he made up because he didn’t want to be taken in by Bruce.

He feels like he is a burden and still keeps that sentiment, which was incremented when Damian joined the family and took his spot as Robin, leaving Tim feeling hopeless. He became Red Robin, lost his best friend (or something more) and went absolutely insane trying to clone him. He can’t handle loss for shit. The same thing happened in his Red Robin run where he ignored both Nightwing and Steph, who tried to stop him from following his unhinged plan of finding Bruce, who was presumed dead but Tim thought was alive. To save his loved ones, he willingly jumped from a building while injured, almost dying.

This, in my eyes, is anything but weak.

He is my unhinged bisexual gremlin. Love him so much

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[amphibiahawks321]

Could you write a Cassandra Cain x M!reader where they just started dating and the reader notices her scars while she is changing out of her Orphan outfit? She, at first, is nervous and ashamed of them until the reader starts to kiss every one of them, causing her to laugh?

(Love your work)

🌑WAYNE MANOR🌑

[Y/N Standing Infront of the doors absolutely panicking]

M!Reader : .....

[M!Reader thought 💭]

Okay Y/N.... You can do this You can do this.... Your badass future girlfriend just reveal some... Heavy information about the vigilante dark knight himself youcandothis youcandothis youcandothis–NO IM NOT IM FREAKING OUT!–

[The doors opened greeted by Alfred]

Alfred : Ah, you must be the lovely Y/N Cassandra has been talking about

M!Reader : Y-Yes I am... You must be Alfred! Cassandra has talked about you before saying that you're basically the ruler of the manor, it's so nice to meet you!

Alfred : Oh i should be the one who's saying that, Cassandra just wouldn't stop talking about you

M!Reader : Aww, that's cute to hear!

Alfred : Follow me, I'll show you where Cassandra's room is

[Y/N starts following Alfred to Cassandra's room admiring the manor impressed by the furnitures]

M!Reader : Ahem so... Is it true that the batman himself is–

Alfred : Bruce Wayne? Shocking huh?

M!Reader : You have no idea! THE Bruce Wayne! I mean I always know the batman always uses gadgets but wow...

Alfred : And you successfully landed master Wayne's protege

M!Reader : didn't expect it to happen but I'm glad! Cassandra is the only one who I can honestly be comfortable around

Alfred : Aww young love at its finest

[Alfred and Y/N stops at a door]

Alfred : Cassandra should still be in her room

M!Reader : Thank you Alfred!

Alfred : Your welcome Y/N... Call me if there's any trouble

[Alfred walks away leaving Y/N Infront of Cassandra's room, Y/N slowly opens the door smiling]

M!Reader : Cassandra?

[Y/N walks in looking around]

M!Reader : Woah✨ this room is so cool✨

[Y/N sees Cassandra's hair from his eye view]

M!Reader : Cassandra!

[Y/N immediately walks towards her]

M!Reader : Hey! You have no idea how amazed I am with the–.....

Cassandra : ......

[Shows Cassandra changing out of her clothes Infront of a mirror and sees her only wearing a crop top and sweat pants]

[Y/N and Cassandra stares at each other awkwardly making both of them slowly starts blushing]

Cassandra blushing : Y/N–

M!Reader blushing : I'm sorry! I only saw your hair in my eye view and I thought you were fully clothes and i–

Cassandra : Pfftt! Haha! don't sweat it, hey it's better then seeing me not wearing clothes at all

M!Reader : True that, but seriously! You gotta tell me more about this place! And–.....

[Cassandra noticed Y/N staring at her scars making her immediately covers them with a piece of clothing out of panicked]

M!Reader : Woah! You didn't tell you had scars!

Cassandra : ......

[Cassandra frowns and sits down in front of the mirror]

M!Reader : Cass?

[Y/N walks towards her]

M!Reader : Hey are you okay?

Cassandra : it's nothing it's just.... My scars...

M!Reader : Yeah? What about them?

Cassandra : they're so.... Sighs you know...

M!Reader : Cass....

[Y/N starts frowning at holds both of her shoulder]

M!Reader : Are you.... Ashamed of them?

Cassandra : it would hurt me if I say no....

M!Reader : Hey... you can tell you know...

Cassandra : my scars... Sighs they just remind me of what I'm made to be...

M!Reader : And that is?

Cassandra : Someone who hurt others...

M!Reader : Cass...

Cassandra : i-its nothing really!

[Cassandra stands up trying to force a smile]

Cassandra : So how do you like the place? Cool am I right! Wait till I show you the cave!–

M!Reader : Sit down....

Cassandra : Huh?

M!Reader : Sit back down....

[Cassandra knowing what Y/N means and went back sitting down Infront of the mirror]

M!Reader : Show it....

[Cassandra slowly removing the piece of clothing she's covering from her upper body]

M!Reader : You really are ashamed of them huh?

Cassandra : You have no idea....

M!Reader : You know I wasn't gonna shock at your scars right?

Cassandra : Really...

M!Reader : No! Not at all! I was just gonna compliment how badass they look!

Cassandra : Hehe!.... But.... Your serious right?

M!Reader : pfftt! Of course I am! They look badass!

[Cassandra starts staring at Y/N with a slight smile]

Cassandra : pfftt! they're not that awesome

[Y/N stares back at Cassandra with a sly smile]

M!Reader : Oh really now?

Cassandra : Yes, Yes really

[Cassandra stares Y/N with now also a sly smile]

[Y/N Immediately starts kissing the scars on her shoulders, making her immediately chuckles]

[Y/N also starts kissing the scars on her neck gently making her finally let out a laugh]

Cassandra : Haha! Okay okay stop! You've proven yourself! Haha!

M!Reader : That's what I thought sweetheart, now... Eyes on me please

[Cassandra turns around and stares at Y/N in the eyes with a wide smile]

M!Reader : Never... Feel... Like... That... Again Okay?

[Cassandra starts to form a tiny blush]

Cassandra : Chuckles I'll try my best... but I can always count on you again if this happens again...

[Cassandra grabs Y/N hand and put it on her cheek]

M!Reader : There you go! Now.... Show me the cave!

[Cassandra stands up, Y/N and Cassandra holding hands walking towards the door]

Cassandra : You seriously will love the cave!–

[Cassandra opens the door]

......

[When the door was opened by her IMMEDIATELY Jason, dick, Damian and Stephanie fell down to the floor]

M!Reader : ......

Cassandra : ......

Dick : Uhhhhh..... We can definitely explain...

[l3tm31nn0w]

Lessons in the Dark

Chapter 1: A Knock at the Door

Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz x fem!reader

You’re a young woman interested in the fantastical world of angels and demons and you seek out Professor Von Franz to mentor you in more ways than one.

(Slow burn, eventual smut, age gap, mentor/protege relationship, reader is in her 20s)

After months of searching up and down Wisborg you finally arrived to his door. You knocked, a loud echoing knock, and almost immediately you heard “GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!” from deep inside the home. You weren’t going to give up that easy.

You knocked again, and the voice inside grew angrier, but also much closer. He was finally coming to the door. After what must have been your 15th knock on the door, it swung open. “What on God’s earth do you want?” Said the man in an exasperated tone. “Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz?” You asked quizzically. “Yes fraulein, what on earth are you doing here?” You pulled a small book from your satchel, a rare tome written by the professor himself about the wonders and works of angels. “Professor Von Franz you opened my mind. I wish to learn from you.” At the sight of the book his eyes grew large and he finally ushered you into his home.

“Do you want some tea? Something to eat? Goodness sorry I’m not used to company. Wait, what’s your name? I haven’t even bothered to ask that.” You smiled at the old man’s frantic nature. “My name is y/n and some tea would be lovely professor.” He helped you out of your coat and led you to a seat. While he began preparing the tea a small Siamese cat lept up onto your lap. It was not the only cat, he had them roaming all over the place and you found this quirk of the old man rather endearing. The cat snuggled into your lap and you rubbed its head in response.

He finally returned with the tea and sat down across from you. “Now how in the world did you find that book fraulein y/n?” You smiled at his seriousness. “I have always been fond of angels. Not the passive boring ones you hear mothers speak of, no the real ones they talk of in the Old Testament. Fearful massive creatures! This has always brought great annoyance to my family, but while my father was away on business he found this book in some old Swiss book store and thought it was just another collection of guardian angel stories, but it wasn’t. It was yours. I devoured it ten times over and finally felt less alone in this world, a spark ignited inside me that there’s a whole scholarly world devoted to such mystical concepts. So I looked high and low for any of your writings and was able to find a modest amount your papers and I knew I had to meet you, speak to you. I’ve searched for you for years.”

The professor stared at you as if you were crazy, wholly unexpecting a young woman to be so enthralled with his writings. “Dear girl how on earth did you find me? I’ve done a good job of hiding out.” You smiled. “Do you remember your student Sievers? He’s my doctor. He saw me reading this book and told me you taught him and he knew where you were. He didn’t give it up so easily though so please do not chide him. Circumstances arose that led him to divulge.” His face warmed at the mention of your doctor. “Oh Sievers is a wonderful man! I do hope he’s treated you well as a patient?” You nodded in response. “Now fraulein, what are these circumstances that have led you to my door?” You took a deep breath, fearful of how he may respond to your next words.

“Professor I come to you with a two part proposition. You do not know me from Adam, but I beg you hear me out.” He nodded, clearly intrigued by you. “Before I lay out my proposal I must give you a bit of explanation as to how I have come to this conclusion. For the past several years I have been sickly, not of fever or plague, but of my womanhood. My menstruation is unusual and I find myself doubled over in great pain more often than not. Our lovely Dr. Sievers has done everything possible to aid me and I find reprieve from pain, but he has come to the conclusion that I am barren. I will never be able to carry a child. I am the third daughter of my family and I have two eldest brothers. My parents have married off all of my sisters and want little to do with me so they intend to send me off to a convent. Professor I love God with all my heart, but I will be wasted as a nun. Dr. Sievers agrees with this so he agreed to help me find you. This is where my proposition begins: take me on as your apprentice. Let me aide you in your research so that I may soak up all your intelligence and immerse myself in the world of the occult. It is my greatest dream, my purpose.” He stared at you, taking in your tragic backstory and thinking long and hard about what you had asked.

“Fraulein, first of all let me say I am truly sorry for what you have endured physically. I am enthralled by your desire to pursue the world of the occult and believe it may be your purpose here in this earth. However, we must look at how this scenario presents itself. An old man like myself cannot just let an unmarried young woman hang around him unsupervised, it would plunge me even deeper into disgrace that I already am and while I do not care for my own reputation I care deeply for the reputation of the work.”

“Professor I understand completely, this brings me to the second part. Dr. Sievers tells me he believes you are unmarried, is this correct?” He seemed taken aback by the personal question. “Yes fraulein I have always been devoted to my work.” You took a deep breath, praying to God this would work. “Then I ask, quite inappropriately as the lady in the situation, for your hand in marriage. Marry me, on paper only, so that we may work together to uncover the secrets of the occult and so that I may be saved from the convent. I know that I have far more to gain from this than you, but I can imagine that the work gets lonely and tedious. I will do whatever you need of me. I will not expect you to fulfill any typical husband duties and I will serve you simply as an apprentice, not as a wife.” His jaw actually dropped at this proposition.

After the shock began to wear off he asked “Would you not be embarrassed to be such a beautiful young woman married to such a ghoulish old thing like me?” You chuckled at this. “Professor if I’m asking to devote my life to a study as controversial as the occult do you think I care what others think? Let them judge. I will be content knowing I’m married to one of the most brilliant minds alive.” You could swear he blushed at your words.

After a moment of deliberation he took your hand and looked you in the eye. “Fräulein y/n if you are serious about the work, as you truthfully seem to be, it would be my honor. Now, let me reassure you I will not trick you into playing wife for me. I know many an old man would take advantage of this situation and force you to do things you do not wish to do, so let me reassure you I will view you as my student and my apprentice you need not fear anything inappropriate.” You smiled at his chivalry, internally relieved that your academic hero was not some old pervert.

“Oh thank goodness! I had put all my faith on you answering yes so Dr. Sievers will be here shortly with the paperwork. I apologize for the haste, but my father was planning on sending me away tomorrow.” The professor was impressed at both your confidence and your attention to detail. “I hope you don’t mind cats!” He exclaimed as an orange tabby pawed at his feet. “Oh I love them them!” You cooed as you picked the cat up.

He walked you around his apartment and introduced you to each cat, sneaking treats out of his pocket for each one. You stole glances at the artifacts and books lining the walls, itching to uncover the secrets. After some time had passed and you finished getting more aquatinted with the professor and his cats, there was a knock at the door. Professor Von Franz opened to door to let in Dr. Sievers and a clergyman.

“I’m guessing you were successful y/n because he didn’t kick you out or smack me in the face!” Dr. Sievers called out with a chuckle. “No habit and rosary beads for me Doctor! No offense father.” The priest smiled at you, the closest a man of the cloth could get to a laugh. “None taken child. Shall we? The good doctor explained to me time is of the essence for you.” You looked over to the professor and he nodded. “We’re ready.”

The priest performed the marriage ceremony as quickly as he could and Dr. Sievers acted as your witness. When it came to the sealing of your union, the kiss, Von Franz looked at you in a panic as if he’d forgotten you’d have to actually touch each other. You smiled at him and leaned forward, pecking his lips in a kiss fit more for a grandfather than a husband. His mustache tickled you and you grinned as you pulled away. Now that the ceremony was over you signed all the paperwork and the union was complete, leaving you with the frightful task of revealing your marriage to your parents.

[ceciliasxx]

—:: Secrets in plain sight ?

cl16 | instagram au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: you and charles prefer to keep your relationship private, so when you start posting a little girl on your instagrams, it leaves people questioning whether or not you may have been hiding a big secret

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 629, 924 others

tagged: charles_leclerc and carlossainz55

yourusername core memory watching charles teach her to play piano + special feature from dumb and dumber (charles and carlos) 🤍

charles_leclerc she’s almost as good as me at piano, and it’s only been a few days

— yourusername she’s a natural protege

— view 73 more replies

livelaughloveleclerc need to see the picture from carlos’s pov

— astrid.olin it’s prob his blackmail material

— carlossainz55 don’t expose my secrets

— ferrari4life LMAO he actually replied 😭

— view 46 more replies

leleleleclercfan okay but who’s the kid in the pictures?? and why is no one talking about them

— selene.daska no because what

— view 38 more replies

f1fanforevss babe wake up, new y/n and charles conspiracy theory dropped

— view 4 replies

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername and 834, 274 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc enjoying the short weekend before the next race.

yourusername so happy we get to spend these small breaks together during breaks between the races <3

— charles_leclerc 🤍

— view 73 more replies

16isthebest stopppp you guys are literally the cutest igh im so jealous

— ferarrarrarrari when will it be my turn

— view 38 more replies

grandgrandprixfanxoxo going to the next grand prix, hope they’re both there so I can get a picture with them ahhhh

— view 2 replies

user8495103 yall the little girl is in the pictures again, i’m telling u that conspiracy going around rn is true

— carlosleclerc highkey agree tbh

— view 64 more replies

f1wags

485, 384 likes

tagged: charles_leclerc and yourusername

f1wags is there a new kid in the paddock? fans have begun speculating that @/charles_leclerc and @/yourusername may have a little girl they’ve been keeping secret based on recent photos posted to their instagram accounts. what do you think?

sienna.layi honestly would be so happy for them not like it’s any of our business anyway

— user83773 right it’s only their business

— view 8 more replies

ferrarif1xxxx i wanna say it’s their kid but like how would they of been able to keep it a secret this long ??

— khloeponta probably had ndas signed tbh

— charles161616 oh definitely

— view 32 more replies

keepingupwthewags okay hear me out, maybe they’re babysitting because you know y/n wouldn’t want to miss out on posting cute pregnancy pictures

— user2375 the only voice of reason so far

— view 21 more replies

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc and 748, 489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername behind the scenes if the paddock during a race 🏎️

livinlifefastt y/n i desperately need an answer to this, what’s your favorite charles moment so far this season?

— yourusername the vegas videos <3

— view 34 more replies

kimiii.ohonnn lmao istg charles just does duck lips in every photo at this point 😭

— view 19 replies

ferrarrigofastt sooooo are we just gonna completely ignore the whole secret kid thing

— liliannaalmaa literally like c’mon

— view 8 more replies

scuscuderia y/n marry me

— yourusername sorry, i’m already taken

— livetheleclercss sobbing crying

— view 42 more replies

yourusername added to their story

[alex-ovechkin]

she's...special - ino takuma x reader

Ino Takuma has a crush on his fellow sorcerer - that's you! He's been working up the courage to ask her out, but it takes a bit of good timing and some encouragement from his mentor to get there.

------------

The smell of sweat and cologne filled the hallway leading to the small gym. As Ino Takuma made his way through, he kept his head down, looking at his shoes.

One step at a time, he reminded himself, feeling the all-too-familiar pit in his stomach growing larger as he got closer and closer to the double doors. He can hear you grunting from about 30 feet away and loses his nerve, stopping short in the hallway and freezing for a moment. After all, he couldn’t interrupt your training session, right? She’s a teacher and she’s training a student. He can’t quite make out the other muffled voice, but his guess would be that it’s Nobara’s. 

Oh, he definitely couldn’t go and interrupt now. You were basically Nobara’s mentor. It would have been rude of him to come in and ask you if you wanted to get dinner tonight, even though he’d spent weeks building up the nerve.

“Something wrong, Ino?” he heard from behind him. The authoritative baritone was unmistakably that of Nanami Kento. Ino spun around to face the taller blonde man.

“Oh, yeah, Nanami! All good! Didn’t expect you to be here,” he said with an unconvincing chuckle.

“You’re sweating profusely,” Nanami says, matter-of-factly. “Are you feeling ill?”

Ino reflexively went to take off his beanie. Nanami was right - it was drenched in sweat. “No, I’m feeling fine. Just a little warm, I guess!” He attempted his signature smile, to no avail. It was more of a grimace.

“Is this about Y/N? Did you ask and get rejected? Because if that’s what it is you can’t l-”

“I, um, haven’t asked. She’s busy training, I couldn’t interrupt.”

“Just like you couldn’t interrupt while she was eating alone at a table in the cafeteria? Or when she was reading in the library? Ino, you’re making excuses. It’s…juvenile.”

“Is not!” Ino said, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth in disbelief of his own words. “I-I’m so sorry, Nanami. I don’t know-”

The older man waved his hand dismissively. “Ino, you’re acting like a lovestruck schoolboy. Y/N is a very sweet young lady and I’m sure she will reciprocate your feelings. If not, at least you can take solace in the fact that you said something. But you’re acting very strange and, quite frankly, it’s getting on my nerves. You need to go in there, wait for her to finish her training session if you must, then ask her. Like we talked about.”

“Nanami, there’s no way she’ll say yes. Maybe I am being a little immature, but come on, look at her! How could she not make you a little lovestruck?”

“What is it exactly that you like so much about her, Ino?”

“What is there not to like? I mean, she’s already semi-Grade 1, to start. But I don’t even care about all of that. She’s just so nice to be around. I think I could spend all day, every day with her and not get tired of it. She loves horror movies, just like me and when she listens to a cool new album, she tells everyone about it so that they can enjoy it too. And she’s so generous with her time. Just look at her right now, she’s training Kugisaki off the clock. She’s just…special.”

“Who’s special?” Y/N asked, pushing through the double doors. She was slightly out of breath and pulling her hair into a tight ponytail. 

Ino swung his body back around, turning his back to Nanami, who had the faintest trace of a smirk dancing on his lips. “Hm?” Ino said, attempting to avoid eye contact.

“You said someone was special. Were you talking about Nobara? Or Maki? They are both special kids, for sure,” Y/N said with a soft, tight-lipped smile. 

Y/N made her way towards, then past the two men. She puts her hand on Nanami’s shoulder as she passes as a silent greeting. The blonde man looks at his young protege through narrowed eyes. 

“Um…” Ino began as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, sorry, was that a private conversation?” Y/N asked innocently. “Sorry, Ino, didn’t mean to pry. I’ll leave you fellas to talk.”

“Actually, Y/N, I believe Ino wanted to tell you this story,” blurted Nanami with the same stony stare. 

Y/N turned back around and took a few hesitant steps toward the young man in all black. “Oh?”

“It’s stupid, I won’t bother you with it…”

“Aw, c’mon, if Nanami thinks I want to hear it, it must be good. Did you meet a girl or something?” Y/N asked with a big smile and chuckle.

“Um…didn’t meet her. I’ve known her for a bit.”

She nodded encouragingly. “Well, who is it?”

“Uh…you may…know her.”

“O-oh! Is it one of the students? Because that’d be-”

“Oh, no. God, no! That’d be gross.”

“Oh, thank God,” Y/N sighed, exaggeratedly wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and laughing. “Well, is it, like, Mei Mei or something?”

“It’s just someone I’ve known a while,” Ino blurted. “I want to ask her to hang out. Outside of here.” By now, Nanami had sauntered off, giving Y/N a silent nod to say goodbye, and gave Ino what the ski-mask clad sorcerer could only assume was his mentor’s version of an encouraging nod.

“So do it!” Y/N’s voice was light and airy. “I’m sure she’d love to. You’re great, Ino.”

He hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I dunno…”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short! You’re a grade 2 and you’re only 21!”

“You’re a grade 1.”

“Semi-grade 1, but nevermind that, we’re talking about you! Seriously, you’re really fun. I love shooting the shit with you. I bet she does too.”

“She’s really special, Y/N. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“You’re special too, dummy.” She gave him a light jab in the chest. “Look, I’m gross and sweaty and need to shower, but let me know how it goes!” 

Ino watched her begin to walk away. Without thinking, he called after her, his utterance of her name echoing through the hallway. She turned around and flashed that smile one more time.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna go to dinner later?”

Y/N’s smile turned to a knowing smirk. “I was wondering if you’d have the guts. Pick me up at 8 - and take me somewhere nice!”

As he watched her walk away, Ino took a deep breath. Now, he had to find an outfit that wasn’t just sweats… 

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thank u sm for reading <3 ! this is my first time writing for jjk and first time publishing in years but ino is worth it