#and they showed much love for one another

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity

୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo

You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try. 

The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”

“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”

You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”

Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“Some would call me experienced, yes.”

His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Steak au whatever.”

You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”

Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”

“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”

“Any more French, you mean?”

He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak. 

“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. 

Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”

“No way,” you chortle.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”

The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail. 

“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”

He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”

“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.

“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”

You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”

“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.

“Toji, honey, are you alright?”

What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?

“Can we fuck now?”

“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”

Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”

He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in. 

A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.

Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance. 

God, you won't even look at him.

Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”

You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.

“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”

It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.

This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips. 

At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him. 

“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.

You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.

He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I trust you, too, Toji.” 

He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around. 

Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.

He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” 

The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.

“No marks, I’ve got work.”

His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now. 

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.

“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other. 

“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle. 

“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”

And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”

You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”

His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”

Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline. 

“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”

You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”

You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”

“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”

He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.

Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.

Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.

“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”

Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.

It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.

Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.

Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”

He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.

“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”

He’s good.

“You’re so good.”

“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.

Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”

“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.

The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.

Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.

He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.

“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”

“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.

“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.

Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.

His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.

“You alright?”

A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.

“Answer me, please.”

Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.

“You’re filthy.”

He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”

You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”

You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”

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[cerisereids]

𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢- 𝚋.𝚋.

pairing- benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

summary- benedict bridgerton is a very avid customer of the ton’s favorite bookstore. what happens when he extends an invitation to the bookkeepers daughter for a ball at bridgerton house? a bridgerton and a working class woman could never be together, could they?

warnings- sfw, making out, reader is 25 aka ‘old’ back then lol, benedict is the same age he is in the show currently (29), reader’s mother died, reader comes from working class family, did some research on regency era but it may not be perfect, benedict is down literally horrendous, reader wears blush but there’s no mention of skin tone, genevieve and benedict don’t have history, not rly proofread lmao

a/n- divider from @saradika-graphics !!

a golden ray of sun filters through the window, coating your family’s bookstore in a dreamy glow. you allow yourself a brief moment to bask in it before you begin your opening duties. your arms are outstretched along the desk tucked into the corner of the store, eyes closed as you soak in as much vitamin d as you can. since your mother died this past winter, your days have been consumed with running your ever-aging father’s beloved bookstore. since spring has rolled around once more, you don’t get nearly as much time in the sun as you’d like, so you enjoy it however you can.

since turning 25, you’ve officially written off the hope of getting married, as well. your life has taken a turn you never could never have expected, so your priorities have shifted. you have to put the family business before courting, even if it means giving up the prospect of someday, somehow, marrying the man you’ve crushed on since childhood: benedict bridgerton. he’s visited your father’s shop since you were small, and you’ve often indulged in the fantasy of riding off into the sunset with him on horseback, often like the heroines in the tales stacked along the walls.

you sigh, tilting your head as the sun highlights your cheekbone, a natural glow emanating from your skin. your eyes fall shut as the image of another life dawns upon you, one where your contact with sunlight doesn’t have to be through a window, standing at a desk in a dusty old shop. you love your father, you’d do anything to help him. however, you can’t help but resent the life higher class women in the ton are allowed to have, the unions lady whistledown is always writing about.

you see the most recent edition of the paper, a large, neat stack ready to sell on the display shelf closest to the entrance. as you flip the sign on the door so it reads ‘open’, you opt to ignore the woeful tales of women who wouldn’t spare you a second glance outside of the four walls of the bookstore. your father’s shop has been the most popular in the ton for as long as you’ve been alive. despite this popularity, you’ve never been regarded as anything more than a working man’s daughter. you’d never been the type of girl lady whistledown deems worthy enough to gossip about.

you take one more glance over yourself, ensuring you maintain professionalism to begin the day. your hands brush over your white dress, complete with a pink linen shift laced up the front, cinching your curves. you inspect the shift that’s cinched up your waist and chest, evaluating the stitching and fabric. you made it, as your mother taught you to sew at a very young age. resentful of the rules and restrictions placed on what you can wear, you aim to include as much individuality in your pieces as possible. that means many of your clothing items-work clothes and otherwise- are an array of bright pastels and floral prints. the sharp ding of the door opening snaps you out of your fussiness, meeting eyes with your first customer of the day: benedict bridgerton.

there it is again, that feeling, that hope. it swirls deep in your belly before consuming you whole, prodding at your heart and tickling your throat. you take in the adonis standing before you, his eyes shining bright from the morning sun, hair still a tad messy from his rest, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. you consider that you really wouldn’t mind waking up to that for the rest of your life. that’s as far as you let your foolish fantasies go, snapping back into business mode.

“hello mr. bridgerton!” you chirp, cheeks warm from just the slightest bit of his attention, “what can i do for you this morning?”

“well, hello beautiful! i hope you’re having a wonderful morning. i thought of you as the sun rose,” he remarks almost absentmindedly. he strolls along the shop, perusing the shelves as if he didn’t stop you in your tracks just then.

“oh-why do you say that?” you sputter, and you’re honestly proud of yourself for at least being coherent.

“it was just that beautiful,” he glances over his shoulder to look at you while he says it, a playful smile dancing on his lips, “i do think you have it beat, though.”

you take a shaky breath in and will your heart to stop dancing in your chest. your nerves begin to overpower the hope from earlier, a sinking feeling drooping low in your stomach, hot and vulnerable.

“mr. bridgerton, you are a terrible flirt,” you do your best to remain professional, avoiding eye contact as you grab recommendations off the shelf for him.

“how many times have i told you to call me benedict?” he turns to face you with a hand on his hip just as you approach him with a stack of books in your hands.

you register the proximity almost immediately, his woodsy, musky scent infiltrating your brain, nearly turning your knees to jelly. you see the amusement in his eyes, the way they dance as you shakily inhale, your chest rising and falling, cheeks burning. he loves teasing you like this. you know he does. he’s done it every time he’s come in the shop, for years.

“i’ve called you mr. bridgerton since we were children, i simply cannot stop now,” you state matter of factly, a sly smirk painted on your lips nonetheless. you shove the stack of books in his large, waiting arms, “tell me what you think of these options, since you won’t tell me what you’re looking for today.”

benedict rolls his eyes as she turns to move back behind the counter, but what she doesn’t see is the way his eyes follow her every move, taking in each swish of her long dress as it flows around her. benedict bridgerton has been in love with the girl behind the bookstore counter for years. she just doesn’t know it yet.

he’s made trips to old main’s bookstore since he was a child, frequenting with his father as he fostered his love for reading. he’s always had his eye on the shy girl behind the counter. his father used to tease him gently, calling it puppy love, telling him it’s just a crush, that he’ll grow out of it. the problem with childhood crushes, though, is that as he grew, she did too. she grew from a shy, quiet girl, staring at him with big eyes from behind her father’s legs, to a bright, confident woman, even if she tries and hide it from him.

he sees the way she holds back, the way her eyes burn with passion, while physically shielding herself from him at the same time. it is just like she’s doing now, retreating back behind the counter, arms folded across her chest. his fingers grip the books she handed him, and he takes a moment to admire her while she works. she’s in her natural state, moving about the counter like it’s second nature. his eyes drink in the way her body twists and bends while she tidies around the counter, fixing shelves and restocking books.

his eyes soften at the way her soft pink garment compliment her skin, aglow from the bright sun coating her through the window. he admires the way the softness of her pretty face blushes and shines with the light touches of makeup she had to have borrowed from madame delacroix. her angelic face is framed by the baby hairs falling out of her bun, and he fights the urge to lean across the counter and brush the strands behind her ears, to caress her face.

“the new jane austen is on top. i think you’d really like it,” she smiles when she catches him staring, and his cheeks flush at the fact that he’s been caught.

“pride and prejudice…” he reads, his finger scanning over the text stamped into the leather book cover, “you’ve always been a woman of romance, huh?” he coos oh so lovingly.

he loves the fact that she shares her favorite books with him. he’s never met someone as passionate about reading as he is, besides eloise, maybe. his connection with her is different, of course.

“yes, i suppose so,” she answers softly, almost meek, and he wants to scoop her up in his arms and never let go, “my position in our society does not afford me the luxury of pursuing a love connection from the storybooks, but it’s nice to read about them. to think that it could actually exist for someone, even if it can’t be me.”

her smile falls just a tad and his heart squeezes tight in his chest, “never say never,” is the only thing he can say, breathless at the sheer thought of you feeling lonely, like love is something unattainable. he can’t form proper words with the way the wind has been knocked from his chest.

“yeah, right, mr. bridgerton,” she rolls your eyes and he winces, both at her self doubt and his official title, “i am 25 years old, and i am a working man’s daughter. i have accepted the fact that i shall just work here until i die,” she says it jokingly, but her eyes convey a sadness she can’t mask.

“not necessarily,” he blurts, shaking his head.

your eyes meet his, incredulous, “and what on earth does that mean, mr. bridgerton?”

“benedict,” he corrects sternly, and it just earns him a smirk from you, and he curses the butterflies erupting in his stomach. he can’t even be frustrated with you for longer than 2 seconds, “it means that you need to read today’s lady whistledown.”

“why?” she raises a brow, walking over to the display shelf showcasing todays latest edition.

she flips through the paper before she finds what he’s talking about.

“what…” she trails off, glancing back up at him, “what, you mean this?” she asks, incredulous. she’s pointing at the section in the paper that reads, ‘VIOLET BRIDGERTON AND FAMILY TO THROW BALL THIS EVENING’

he nods sheepishly, “i am inviting you. i believe we would enjoy spending an evening together,” his tone is uncertain as he extends his-rather impulsive- invite, and she lets out a sarcastic cackle.

“yeah right,” she slaps the copy of lady whistledown onto his ever growing pile of text, “very funny, good joke,” she waves a finger at him, and anger flares in his chest.

“‘m not joking,” he shakes his head curtly, “you should come, i’ll need a dance partner, after all,” his voice is still shaky, and she laughs at him in disbelief.

you look at the man before you like he’s a mythical creature, “mr. bridgerton, you and i both know very well that is not how these things work,” you shake your head as you walk around him, completing various tasks around the store and helping the odd customer that enters while mr. bridgerton browses. you figure if you keep yourself busy, it’ll stop you from wanting to kiss him. so far, your mission has failed.

“well-” he scoffs, plowing five fingers through his head of beautiful hair, “who cares about how things work?” he protests childishly, and you chuckle sardonically.

“that’s very easy for you to say. everybody wants to be a bridgerton,” you fake a posh accent mockingly, and you revel in the way he rolls his eyes, a knowing smirk spreading across his lips, “as i said prior, i’m practically a spinster to everybody in the ton. i’m destined to be a worker’s daughter, nothing more.”

he saunters over to the counter with a mischievous glint in his eye and the most kissable smirk painted across his lips, and sets the book pile down with a thud.

“you know madame delacroix will loan you a gown for the evening. my entire family would be delighted to see you there, you know that,” sliding a stack of pounds across the counter, heavily overcompensating for the actual price of the books.

he sends you one more smile, one that reads ‘i hope to see you there’, before he exits the store. he holds the door open for an elderly patron on his way out, and your heart grows three sizes.

your fingers fiddle with the array of fabrics billowing around you as you sit sheepishly in the corner of modiste. none of them seem right to you, but genevieve seems to think otherwise. a flurry of pink and blue pastels swirl around her dress form, a nearly finished dress sitting delicately on the mannequin.

“you’re lucky i’ve been working on this for some time now, you’re just giving me an excuse to finish it,” genevieve teases gently, pinning certain fabrics in their final places before sewing, “so he just…invited you to this ball?” she peers inquisitively around the velvety fabric of the fake bust.

“yes!” you gush, flailing your arms in confusion, the leftover fabric moving with your gesticulations, “i do not know what he was thinking!” you bury yourself in a protective shield of chiffon.

“i believe he was thinking about one certain thing, my dear,” she raises a suggestive brow in your direction, and it sets your cheeks aflame.

“miss delacroix!” you exclaim, jokingly scandalized. you attempt to hit her with one of the many pieces of fabric clenched in your hands, but the soft chiffons and silks barely brush her arms.

“there is not a chance he views me in such a light, genevieve,” you shake your head, desperately trying to keep your voice neutral, but you cannot mask the disappointment clouding your words, “even if he did, there is not much that could be done about it, anyway. i do not come from the stock that marries bridgertons.”

“you and i both know that benedict is not the kind to care for that sort of thing,” genevieve insists, but you shake your head.

“he may be the only one in the ton who does not care for such expectations,” you say sardonically, shaking your head, “i cannot guarantee the pressure from his peers would not find its way under my skin.”

genevieve pauses at the mannequin bust, piercing you with a knowing gaze, “my love, mr. bridgerton has not been able to take his eyes off of you since you were children,” she chuckles lightly, shaking her head as she works, “he asked you to the ball because he has not a singular clue how else to ask for your hand.”

“gen! you must be out of your head!” you gasp, a smile bursting from your lips, “like i said before, he is a bridgerton. whether he cares or not, i will not put myself in such a position to be ridiculed by the entire ton!”

“you will not be,” genevieve tries her hardest to be convincing, but you both know the reality of your society, and the speed at which gossip flows, “okay, you might be,” she corrects herself at your pointed gaze, “but why not try? you’ve received an invitation after all, just like every other woman who will be there. it would be improper of you not to go.”

“my father said similarly shortly after mr. bridgerton left our shop this morning,” you smile softly, recalling the encouraging words of your affectionately nosy father, “bad manners, he accused me of.”

“i’m sure mr. bridgerton would feel similarly if the object of his affections for the past 15 years did not show up,” she raises her brows and lifts the now completed garment off the bust, your cue to stand.

you reluctantly move to the curtained dressing area, rolling your eyes as genevieve hands you the dress to try on. once it’s over your body, you request her help with various cinching and the tying of ribbons. turning toward the mirror, you pause. you’re in disbelief at the way the dress hugs your curves, highlighting your chest and waist. you look…beautiful, like you could be a bridgerton. that feeling of hope trickles down your throat once more, filling up your heart and stomach with a warm golden light.

you run your hands along the under-bust corset, sturdier and stiffer than the linen shifts you wear to work everyday. the cinched bustier is made of a shiny, baby pink material, accented with light, pastel blue embroidery, complete with a light blue ribbon just between your breasts, tied into a bow. it mimics the rest of the dress, a baby pink ensemble with pastel blue flowers embroidered along the ruffle sleeves, blooming down, down, down along the floor length garment.

“you look perfect, my love,” genevieve squeezes your arms in excitement, lightly shaking you back and forth, “now, it is time for hair and makeup!” she declares, gently pushing your shoulders so you’re sitting on a stool by the dressing room mirror.

two hours of being primped and primed to the nines by genevieve delacroix, you find yourself at the steps leading to the front door of bridgerton house. the porch is lit aglow from the oil lamps posted in front, and you can hear the bustling crowd beyond the two front doors. something sickly churns in your stomach, twisting up your insides like a dirty dishrag. you can’t turn back now, not after having come this far. genevieve would probably kill you, as well, but that’s neither here nor there.

you’re swallowed up by the people flowing in and out of the home, chatter ebbing and flowing like the waves of the river thames. this allows you to enter unceremoniously, slipping through behind a group of loud, boisterous men coming from the expansive front garden. no doubt the sons of earls and dukes, who have already drank plentiful this evening. you stay to the wall, not eager to be front and center in such a foreign environment. your eyes scan the room, desperate to find the man who invited you in the first place.

when you finally find him, time stops, the same way it does in your romance novels. the racket of overzealous partygoers magically melts away, until the only two people in the room are you and benedict, who’s looking at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky.

benedict has spent the better half of his night being tossed around by colin and anthony. all night they have teased him over his unrestricted adoration for you, how he so brazenly just asked you to the ball tonight. he doesn’t quite know what came over himself, either. as the night goes on, he begins to worry this was all a big mistake. a spark of anxiety lights in his stomach, searing through his chest and squeezing him tight.

when he finally sees her, though, all the tension leaves his body. she’s breathtaking, sparkling in the golden glow of the chandeliers. she shines brighter than all of them, than all the priceless, gleaming silver and gold displayed around their home. he’s only ever seen her in the proximity of her father’s shop, and he’s never doubted that she’s the most beautiful girl in the world. tonight, though, he knows he’s had it right from the start.

seeing you here, a fairytale princess come to life, his adoration aches deep in his bones, strangling his heart with pure and utter fondness. he’d walk across hot coals to get to you. luckily, it only takes him a quick stride across the expansive living room. he moves as swiftly as he can while still appearing nonchalant, knowing the last thing she’d want is to draw attention.

“hello, beautiful,” he stands before you, hands clasped behind his back. he bows slightly before offering her his arm, and his niceties make her guffaw.

“mr. bridgerton, thank you for inviting me, you have a beautiful home,” she stutters out, managing an awkward curtsy of her own. her uncertainty is so endearing, it makes his heart swell and his cheeks heat up.

the two walk arm in arm throughout the room, and benedict makes it his personal mission to ease her worries. he keeps his free hand atop hers, the one resting on his other arm. he pats it to ensure her eyes stay on him, and don’t drift towards the other girls in the room, no doubt gossiping about this ‘mystery girl’.

thanks to his brothers’ abrasiveness, especially where alcohol is involved, word got around that benedict bridgerton was expecting someone at his family’s ball. he’d naively hoped that once, if, she arrived, the partygoers’ curiosity would be quenched, that they’d return to their drinks, to their provincial conversations. like he said, naive.

she’s the center of attention, her dress twinkling in the soft glow of the room. she looks angelic, he cannot quite blame all the people staring, she’s breathtaking. she seems to ease at the contact with him, though, and it makes him feel 10 feet tall. once drinks have been acquired and he’s introduced you to some of his siblings- two strapping brothers that look just like him, and a sly sister- he insists on a tour of bridgerton house.

“mr. bridgerton!” she chuckles at his suggestion, and his face flushes with pride, a cheeky smile on his face, “won’t you get in trouble for sneaking away from your own party?”

the silk of her glove grips his wrist, and her concern for him makes his heart churn. the way she always cares for him so easily, like it’s breathing, makes him want to cocoon her in his arms, safe from harm’s way.

“probably, but is that not part of the fun?” he replies cheekily, and it earns him another award winning smile from her, “you do not need to worry your pretty little head about me, sweetheart, let us escape from all the staring,” he rolls his eyes in theatrical aggravation, and it earns him a melodic giggle from her pretty lips. he feels on top of the world.

“that does sound quite nice,” she ponders, pursing her pretty lips in the most adorably concentrated pout. he has to physically restrain himself from pulling her to him and kissing that pout straight off her face in front of everyone at the party.

“let’s do it,” she decides, deviance coloring her tone.

“that’s my girl,” he coos, resting his hand on the small of her back to guide her up the stairs, “let’s go this way, hm?” he whispers into her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder as they walk. he’s not sure if he imagined it, but he’s almost certain he feels a shudder unzip down her spine. a smirk breaks out on his lips.

“we’ll go up these steps, but when we reach the top, you will go left and i will go right. wait for me in the first room on the right, i will come to you. does that sound good?” he feels her nod against him. it feels excessive to him, but he simply cannot risk the gossips of the ton seeing the two of them walk off alone. it would scandalize her, and he wants to protect her, he just wishes he could spend time with her without having to worry about the fabricated rules of their society.

when he loses her warmth as they part ways, he immediately longs to reach for her once more, to wrap her in his arms and never let go. it will happen soon enough, he silently wishes.

you are breathless at the sudden contact with mr. bridgerton, his breath tickling your neck makes you shudder. you want to kick yourself for immediately showing your hand, but you can’t quite seem to care when the warm comfort of his hand spreads through your back.

as the bustle of the party dies down after splitting ways, the more your heart flutters. butterflies have taken complete and total capacity of your stomach, flapping their wings with no reserve. your breath picks up, chest rising and falling the quieter.

you do as he told you, pushing open the door to the first room on the right. it appears to be his bedroom, if the scattered books and clothes were anything to go by. your stomach churns as you think of the scandal, being in a gentleman’s room without a chaperone. you cannot find it in you to care all that much, though, as the feeling benedict bridgerton gives you overpowers it all.

your heart nearly beats out of your chest as you hear the handle turn, benedict standing in the doorway. he pauses at the sight of you in his bedroom, no doubt thinking the same thing you are- the trouble you’d be in if you were caught in this position. this shared knowledge has the opposite effect than one might think. instead of discouraging you two, it heightens the tension.

your breath picks up as the two of you take each other in. you let your eyes unabashedly trail over every inch of him. this may be the first and last time you have him in such a capacity, and you want to make sure you take full advantage of it.

“have i told you how beautiful you look, honey?” his soft voice breaks through the tension, and a smile breaks out on your face.

“yeah, quite a few times, actually,” you state, avoiding eye contact so you don’t immediately turn to mush.

“that’s not enough. you look beautiful,” he offers you his hand and leads you out of the room.

“this is what i want to show you first,” he whispers in your ear once more, and goosebumps erupt along your skin. he leads you to a room with two large wooden doors, and stops the two of you right in front.

“go ahead,” he nods towards the doors, and you tentatively push.

you’re greeted with…books. books as far as your eye can see, stacked in every corner of the room, top to bottom, front to back. your mouth falls open just slightly, a gasp escaping your lips. your eyes gloss over in pure awe. you’ve spent your whole life surrounded by books, and yet you don’t think you’ve ever seen so many all at once.

“benedict…this is incredible,” you gush, too distracted to notice the lack of formality, “you just live with this?” you gasp, unbelieving. it makes benedict chuckle, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips as well.

as you stand there, laughing with benedict bridgerton, you can’t help but feel that all is right with the world, like you’re the only two people on the planet. your hand instinctively reaches for his, and he laces his fingers in yours. he gently guides you around the room, highlighting the sections that you would like the most.

“take as many of these as you want, my love,” he says, tentatively wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. he’s nervous, you can tell. he’s testing the waters, and you lean into his touch.

“are you serious?” you ask, looking up at him from his chest.

“‘f course, there’s so many of them, we have more in storage, too,” he places a gentle kiss on your forehead and your eyes drift closed for a moment.

“you’re too kind to me, benedict,” you murmur before opening your eyes. you’re greeted with the most beautiful man in the ton gazing down at you with stars in his eyes.

“my name sounds so gorgeous on your lips,” he murmurs, his lips resting against your temple. it’s only then you realize you’ve dropped the title, and your face flushes. you gasp at the revelation, leaping from his hold.

you clear your throat, straightening out your dress as you keep your gaze downturned, “i apologize, sir. that was improper of me,” you inhale shakily as you pretend to look at books.

“no, no, my love. it’s okay, i want you to be comfortable with me, okay?” he coos, and you want to just fall into him and let him shield you from the world for the rest of time. you know that’s not how this can work, though, so you groan.

“unfortunately, that is not how things are supposed to be between the two of us,” you attempt to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

“why should we give a damn about how things are supposed to be between the two of us?!” he snaps, and your eyes widen, “ever since i met you, every waking moment of my life has been dedicated to you. it has all been for you, my love. okay? every book i’ve picked up, every class i’ve taken, it’s all made me feel closer to you, even if we were miles apart,” he vents, and you’re both breathing as if you’ve just ran miles.

“i don’t understand, mr. bridgerton-”

“it’s benedict, sweet girl,” his stern tone stops you in your tracks, “ever since we were children, you have overtaken my every waking thought. when i first saw you, a shy young thing hiding behind the bookstore’s counter,” he pauses to breathlessly chuckle at the memory, “i thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. now that we’re adults, and you’ve blossomed into a strong, smart, sensitive young woman, i know for certain i was right. you’re so beautiful, inside and out, and i’m in love with you.”

the wind is knocked out of you at his confession, eyes glossing over with tears threatening to spill over your lash line, “benedict!” you gasp, your hands clasping against your chest.

“come here,” he mumbles, pulling you by your hand to crash his lips onto yours. he practically inhales you as his body surrounds you entirely.

you feel him everywhere. his lips are moving a mile a minute, from your lips to your cheeks to your neck to your collarbones. his warmth envelops you from the outside in, warming the fire burning low in your belly. the scent of his woodsy cologne intoxicates you, and you feel lightheaded from the overstimulation. you don’t want it to stop, though, you never want it to stop.

your hands reach up to cradle his jaw, bringing his lips back to yours in a fiery explosion of passion. you’re gasping against each other, lips moving in desperate tandem. anything and everything that isn’t benedict bridgerton is of no use to you, your brain completely blank except for the man overpowering your senses.

he breaks the kiss first. he pulls away reluctantly to catch his breath, but he keeps his hands on either side of your face. he doesn’t let you escape his fiery gaze, inspecting every inch of your blissed out expression, all heavy lidded eyes and plump, swollen lips.

“i love you, too,” you whisper once you’ve finally caught your breath, and you both chuckle.

“i love you,” he murmurs, bringing your lips back to his. this kiss was chaste, sweet, “i love you so much,” and another kiss.

“benedict…” you trail off, reality settling in for a brief moment, “what are we going to do?” you whisper, eyes glossy with pure, raw emotion.

he knows what you mean, you can tell from the strain in his eyes, “i’m going to take care of you, okay my love? i’m going to make sure nobody says a word to hurt my girl, okay?” he seals his promise with a kiss that nearly knocks you off your feet.

you fall against him, arms flying around his neck. he lifts you just slightly off the ground, one hand supporting your neck while the other grips your lower back. he starts kissing all over your face and neck, a smile forming on his lips as you giggle.

“we will make it work, okay?” kiss, “i will fight…” kiss, “whatever stupid rule…” kiss, “that says…” kiss, “we can’t be together…” kiss, “do you understand me?”

you both know there’s more to this conversation than that. you both know there’s a whole party downstairs you’ll have to return to eventually. right now, though, this is enough. benedict bridgerton, with his warm lips caressing your the sensitive skin of your neck, and his large, warm hands rubbing soothing circles on your back, is enough. you love each other. you’ll be okay.

[fastandcarlos]

The Littlest Surprise » Daniel Ricciardo

caption: hello im a new f1 content creator and would love some feedback if you enjoy my fics tysm 🩷

summary: you’ve not been seen at the paddock for a while and the fans are getting worried, little do they know the reason for your absence is about to make everyone’s dreams come true

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liked by schecoperez, georgerussell63 and 842,420 others

danielricciardo: always a pleasure to have the fam on my side, excited to show the little ones what uncle danny gets up to 🥺

49,302 comments

username1: is this yet another race y/n won’t be at this weekend??

username2: I cannot wait for the day that this man becomes a dad

username3: if y/n doesn’t hurry up and make him a dad…daniel i’m happy to offer my services 😊

maxverstappen1: how big is y/n/n now! she looks so grown up 🥺

danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 she’ll be 6 soon, where does the time go??

oscarpiastri: don’t forget your little adopted aussie nephew

landonorris: and your british nephew too!!

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris hey! i might be a bit older but not old enough to be your uncle thank you

username4: anyone else think something might be going on, daniel posting about his family without y/n there is strange

username5: @/username4 let’s not overthink this too much, y/n might just be busy

username4: @/username5 it’s been ages since we last saw her, you gotta admit it’s a bit sus

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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 629,301 others

danielricciardo: another great weekend of racing, nice feeling to be back on the podium…man how I missed hearing that champagne pop 🏎️

38,402 comments

charles_leclerc: congrats brother, nice to be up there with you once again

username6: y/n not distracting you anymore to stop you getting on the podium??

username7: @/username6 wtf? why would you suggest such a thing?

carlossainz55: always knew you’d be back up there one day, long may it continue!

yukitsunoda0511: you gotta give me some tips bro, those manoeuvres were lethal today 🔥

pierregasly: danny ric just doing danny ric things

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liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 922,547 others

danielricciardo: hey team! just wanted to clear up some things after miami this weekend…me and y/n are absolutely fine, had some things going on that I promise we’ll explain soon ❤️❤️ for now tho, here’s an update on life recently ☁️✨

92,174 comments

ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username8: I knew you guys would be okay, take as long as you need my two favourites!!

username9: a big screw you to those who doubted you…real fans love you guys

landonorris: I love you guys, here if you need anything brother ❤️

username10: hope whatever is going on clears up soon, we’re missing you guys around here🩷

lilymhe: tell y/n to gimme a call! ily guys ✨

visacashapprb: can’t wait to welcome y/n back into the paddock soon - see you for race week!

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liked by danielricciardo, iamrebeccad and 310,409 others

ynusername: it’s been a long few months, but we finally feel ready to share with you our happy news. pregnancy has been tough, I’d love to say it has treated me well, but it hasn’t. I cannot thank daniel enough for being by my side and helping me out whenever I’ve needed him…baby spam incoming ⛅️🍼

ps. each of us chose a picture to share, guess who chose what 🙄

28,461 comments

danielricciardo: words cannot begin to describe how proud I am of how brave you’ve been, the worst of it is over now my love, the countdown to baby ricciardo starts now

danielricciardo: ps my photo is way cooler than yours is

landonorris: omg I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me, uncle Lando reporting for duty!

carlossainz55: the biggest congratulations you two, you’re going to be the best parents

carmenmmundt: so glad to hear y/n is doing better, may the rest of your pregnancy be a dream ✨

lilymhe: the strongest girl I know - so excited to see you become a mum 😍

username11: all my manifesting has paid off, baby ricciardo will be the luckiest

oscarpiastri: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!!

estebanocon: my spidey senses were spot on, I knew a baby was on the way!

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liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll and 102,585 others

ynusername: life lately 💫 exhausted but loving all the little things (including daniel 😂)

17,492 comments

username12: y/n looks like she’s living the dream, mum life suits her well 🥺

danielricciardo: im definitely not a “little thing” how else did we end up like this?

landonorris: @/danielricciardo excuse me sir you are about to have a child, sort your humour out

maxverstappen1: glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself again y/n, brunch on me soon!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 yes - let’s not tell daniel #gatecrasher

danielricciardo: @/ynusername you know your comments are public…right?

username13: anyone else wishing they could brunch with y/n too??

lance_stroll: sending all the good book recs your way!

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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 738,603 others

danielricciardo: babymooning 🍼 the smile says it all, so happy to have my girl back on her feet and feeling like herself again…making the last few memories just the two of us 🥺

83,500 comments

ynusername: thank you for the best couple of days and being my personal taxi driver

username14: look at his face - you can tell daniel is buzzing to be a dad

pierregasly: where was my invite?? I thought we were friends

carlossainz55: and mine!

georgerussell63: me too!

landonorris: looks like we were all forgotten!

visacashapprb: enjoy the break daniel! you and y/n absolutely deserve it 🏁🩷

username15: i speak for all your fans when i say keep the holiday photos coming pls

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liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 920,355 others

danielricciardo: mum and dad 🔥🥺

tagged: ynusername

58,429 comments

landonorris: adopt me pls, im less problematic than a baby

danielricciardo: @/landonorris debatable

lewishamilton: so glad to see you both so happy, good luck with everything

charles_leclerc: wow!! y/n looks insane (suppose you look alright too daniel!)

ynusername: mum and dad?? i can definitely get used to hearing that 🤩

alex_albon: it’s not fair how adorable you two are, this kid is hella lucky!!

username16: pls keep the baby spam coming, you guys are the sweetest 🍼💫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511 and 109,446 others

ynusername: the many faces of a man who has just remembered he’s just signed up for no sleep for the next 10 years 😂

tagged: danielricciardo

23,201 comments

danielricciardo: after all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? you just wait my love 🫢

ynusername: @/danielricciardo this was too good of an opportunity to miss

carlossainz55: make the most of that middle photo whilst you can danny

georgerussell63: you have NO idea how much I just laughed at this y/n 😂😂😂

schecoperez: speaking from experience, you could not be more correct y/n #dannynosleep

username17: embarrassing dad before even becoming a dad 😬

oscarpiastri: call me for anymore embarrassing daniel pics 😂

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri no one asked for you to show up here

username18: I just want you to be my mum and dad instead 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt and 113,999 others

ynusername: can you believe this man is really about to become a father?? 🤦🏻‍♀️

32,694 comments

charles_leclerc: sometimes i really do wonder what you see in him y/n

landonorris: the biggest clown known to man, still the world’s biggest kid 😂😂

danielricciardo: is that really how you want to talk about the father of your child? I thought you were supposed to love me

ynusername: @/danielricciardo i do, ily very much 🥰

username17: not y/n releasing all the humiliating photos of daniel now they’re about to be parents

username18: y/n’s clearing the phone album for baby spam and giving us daniel spam in return

logansargeant: more to the point, this is the guy you chose as the father of your child??

lilymhe: the two of you are perfect for each other y/n ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,403,407 others

danielricciardo: welcome to the world baby ricciardo 💕

after a lot of hardships and tricky times, y/n and i are beyond excited to share with you that our little one is here. everyone is safe, loved and doing well, my heart has never felt so full 🥺

tagged: ynusername

[joostcafe]

So kiss me. | joost klein x fem!reader

Summary: Getting ready for a Halloween party with Joost is not easy, especially when he can’t stop kissing you.

Warnings: Pure fluff, kissing, a couple swear words.

A/N: I just really miss Halloween… requests are very much open!!!!

— now playing! ♫ kiss me | sixpence none the richer —

“Stop fussing.” You said, spreading white face paint onto joost’s cheeks.

His eyes squeezed shut, as he held onto your thighs for dear life. “It’s cold.”

“I’m almost done, promise.” You reassure him, gently patting his chest with your other hand.

His mouth drops before letting out a soft laugh, “You just started, leugenaar!” — and liar you were.

He attempted to lay down onto his bed before you snatched him back up, giving him a peck on the lips.

The smug look on his face made you believe it would make him sit still.

He smiled once more, the smile you loved so dearly. The way his eyes disappeared beneath his cheeks, showing all of his teeth.

You continued, carefully applying the paint to the rest of his face as he sat there, staring up at you with gleaming puppy eyes.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled.

You can’t help but look away after locking eyes with him. He still made you nervous, even after sitting on his lap for a while.

He hugged your waist, now pulling you towards him. You grabbed his face with one hand and made your way up to his hair.

Not even a second later he leaned to kiss you once more, and you could feel him smile once again.

“We’re going to be late Joost.” You said, pulling away and fixing his hair — which you previously ruined.

He sighed and wiped some white paint off from your face. “I can’t kiss my beautiful girlfriend? You know, we can just stay home and watch scary movies.”

You and him loved home dates better than going out to parties, since you both got overwhelmed very fast in big crowds. So that actually sounded pretty fucking amazing.

You lingered for a moment before grabbing another color beside you. “Your friends will get mad, you know how they are.”

“Fuck my friends.” He replied, which he didn’t actually mean of course. “They can survive the night without us.”

You smiled and kissed him yet again, this time a little deeper.

“Sweetheart.” He managed to get out, “I don’t want your talents to go to waste.”

You laughed, grabbing the nearest makeup brush. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

Holding onto his neck, you painted the remaining clown features onto his face.

Your focus and determination was cute to him, the way you would slightly stick out your tongue when it came to drawing a sharp line. When you would stop to admire him and plant a few kisses on his neck to avoid making a mess. It was too much for him in fact, he was so in love with you.

“I think i’m done.” You said, giving him a small hand mirror.

“Wowww.” He dragged on with an exaggerated voice, “I really love it.”

You try to fix his hair once more as he grabbed a red lipstick from your bag, “May I?”

You grin slightly, getting closer to him.

He opens the tube before inspecting it. Then he swipes it gently on your lips, making sure he’s not messing it up.

“There.” He whispered.

You carefully rub your lips together before looking at yourself. “I’m impressed.”

He then points to his cheek, asking for a kiss.

You obviously weren’t gonna deny him, even if you thought he had enough for tonight — he never had enough of your kisses.

You kissed him once.

Then twice on the other cheek.

One on his forehead just because.

And a million more all around his face.

“You’re too good to me my love.” He replied.

You wrapped your arms around him, “Hey, i’m the lucky one here.”

— And after many long kisses, you spent the rest of the night cuddled up with each other, watching horror movies and eating halloween candy.

[emmyrosee]

Can we talk about how rintaro probably swallows your engagement ring by accident?

Honestly? Okay listen… Do you think he swallows it? I think he swallows it.

Because like okay. Rintaro puts a ton of planning behind everything he does, he wants to make your engagement this massive scene out of a movie because you’re out of a movie; you swooped into his life and showed him the path he wants to be on, the one that always leads back to you.

But like. Why would everything not crumble around him each and every time he tries to work up the courage to finally pop that four word phrase?

It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy.

An engagement ring, propped on some frosting on the center of the cake, ready for you to scoop up and slip on and give him an excited yes and the world would clap and he’d get a Nobel prize or something for such an extravagant proposal.

Except. That doesn’t happen.

The first bite Rintaro takes, he shovels in his mouth nervously, and there’s a massive shock to his teeth when they clank down hard on the ring on his cake.

How he didn’t notice? How the waiter messed them up? He blames it on the waiter.

Him swallowing the ring..? Yeah no. That’s got him written all over it.

His nerves just got the best of him and sends the large diamond down his throat, eyes bulging out as he realizes. He chokes briefly, grabbing his wine and gulping it down to wash the jewelry down.

Uh oh.

“Baby?” You ask. “Something wrong?”

“…nope.”

The rest of dinner is silent, you trying desperately to make conversation and his mind going insane trying to process what to do next.

Your engagement ring, the object that completely envelops your love in a physical sense is floating in the acids of his stomach, and who knows what the next step in the plan is.

He dreads it.

The car ride is complete silence, you occasionally clearing your throat or sighing to try and strike a conversation, but Rin’s mind is on a complete other planet, trying to make a map of his next move and how to get the ring 1.) out of his body and 2.) to you.

Is he really going to give you a ring he ate? He can’t. That’s vile. But he can’t spend the money on another one, even if it is more than worth it to spend it on you, and-

“Rin,” you whisper, touching his thigh. “You just blew a red light.”

“Damn- I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“Don’t be sorry… is everything alright?”

“Just fine.”

“Are you mad at me?”

His foot slams hard, hard on the breaks, causing commotion behind him as the wailing of car horns fills the air. “God, baby, no, of course not!”

“Then why have you been so quiet?” You ask sadly.

“I can’t tell you.” Out of embarrassment and stupidity, he thinks to himself.

You leave it at that. You go quiet again, and when he makes a move to rest his hand on your thigh, you turn away, and his whole heart sinks.

The rest of the ride home drags on. There’s no more attempts of noise, no more sighs or clearing of throats, only the roar of the engine for a few more miles until you get home. He barely gets the chance to park the car before you’re out and storming up the driveway, clearly upset with the situation. He sighs and follows you in, and you’ve hiked up the stairs to the bathroom. He winces at the slam of the door, and he’s quick to call osamu for advice.

Advice that the twin gives him around countless gawfs of unhelpful, judgmental laughter.

He tells Rintaro to calm down and stop being weird towards you- take a spoonful of laxatives mixed in with water and let the body “process” for as long as it needs to. Get you a new ring, trash the old one and mourn the loss of money after you two get engaged.

He sighs and ends the call, making his way to the upstairs bathroom where he keeps the medicine. You brush past him in a towel, refusing to acknowledge him or his presence with so much as a “hmph.”

The shower he takes alone is cold, his mind is loud and his heart is pounding and his stomach queases for more than a few reasons. How could he have messed this up so badly? It was supposed to be cute! Just flashy enough for him to flaunt you, but simple enough to not be messed up.

Yet he messed it up.

Rintaro dries himself and makes his way into the bedroom, where you’re already burrowed under the covers on your side of the bed. He throws on some form of pajama before making his way downstairs to make his laxative drink.

One tablespoon of laxative mixed with water, allow body to process for one day before repeating, let all powder dissolve before drinking- he follows every single one of the thorough instructions completely, and he starts to drink the concoction with a scowl of disgust.

The hell is this made out of?

“What’re you still doing up?” You ask, and he swallows the last of the laxative with a wince.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he confesses. Then, he sighs and turns to face you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know.

You’re still upset.

“Listen,” he begins, carding a massive hand through his hair. “About tonight. It was absolutely nothing you did. It was my fault, and my annoyance and attitude had nothing to do with you.”

“Okay,” you sigh, but there’s an unconvinced lilt in your voice.

“I wanted this to be a perfect night, I wanted it to go so well-“

“Rinnie?”

“And I’m sorry, about my silence in the restaurant,” he sniffles, big hands pressing against his face and rubbing roughly. “The chef was supposed to put it on our cakes and his little rat waiter messed it up, and-“

“Put what on our cakes?”

“YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING!” He groans in complete agony. “Your ring! Fuck! I tried so hard to make the perfect proposal, and I just wanted it to be beautiful-“

“My… my ring?”

“Uh…. Yeah?”

“My engagement ring?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, and he feels like he’s going to upchuck every bit of food he’s ever eaten.

Though that may not be the worst thing at this point.

“You wanna marry me?” You wail, collapsing to your knees in excitement. He perks up slightly, slipping of his seat to join you on the floor.

“Of course I want to marry you,” he confesses. “God, I’ve… I’ve wanted to marry you for the past three years, I got the ring perfect four months ago.” He blinks out a line of tears to mimic yours, and you cup his cheeks in your trembling palms. “But every time I tried to propose, something went wrong, and I… I didn’t know how to do it anymore. I’m sorry baby…”

“Rintaro,” you say softly, chuckling around the your quivering voice. “I never needed a big proposal. Ever. All I ever want is for you to promise me we’ll be together. And that’s more than enough.”

His face softens before he lets a hand smack his face in obliviousness, disappointed in himself that he got so lost in trying to impress you that he almost didn’t.

“Put it on me!” You squeal, holding out your hand. He turns a scarlet red and looks away.

“I uh… I can’t.”

You deflate slightly, and he gives you an embarrassed smile. “Why not?” You whimper, emotionally fried from the rollercoaster he just put you on.

“I don’t have it.”

“What!”

“I mean, technically i do,” he says, gnawing his lip. “But I… uhm… I can’t give it to you yet. I uh… I need a few days. And… a few cleaners to look at it.” He gives you a shy chuckle and his toothy grin is mixed with frightened eyes, and your own widen. “The uhm… the ring was on the cake…”

Your hands clasp over your mouth, tears immediately drying and replacing with small, choked and stifled laughter.

“You didn’t,” you manage. He nods, uncomfortable. “Did… did you eat my ring, Rintaro?”

“It wasn’t my fault! Damn waiter gave us the wrong cakes!”

“AND YOU SWALLOWED IT?”

“I WAS NERVOUS, OKAY?”

“RINTARO!”

You two clutch each other on the cold kitchen floor as you laugh, heads knocking against each other as you steal kisses from between cackles.

“I’ve got an idea,” he says once you’ve both seemed to calm down, and he quickly pops on his feet to grab the bread on the counter. With the twist tie, he takes it off the bread and makes his way back to you. “Give me your hands.”

The tie only fits around the top part of your ring finger, and you sniffle softly at how silly and sweet this whole thing is.

“We’re gonna get married,” he says between an emotional wheeze. “And we’re going to grow old together, have our nine dogs and four cats.”

“No kids?”

“Ew gross.”

“Yeah, sure, as if you don’t bend to my every whim bro.” You shift slightly to rest your back against his chest, curling against his still sitting frame. “And our kids are going to love the Miyas-“

“Because you love the Miya’s. I have nothing to do with that.”

“As if Osamu’s not going to be your best man,” you scoff. He smirks and buries his face in your hair, listening to your words weave through his brain and calming him down from the disaster of a night.

Then, he hums, “you want to take my last name?” He asks, and you give him a small swat on the leg. “What! Im just asking!”

“Of course I’m going to take your last name,” you say, turning your head up to face him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, tearing up again when you nod.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Can Help With That

rockstar!Eddie x bestie!fem!virgin!reader

summary: Eddie catches you reading fanfiction about him and decides to let your experience the real thing

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

not proofread!

It wasn’t a secret that you had a huge crush on your best friend Eddie. You had been in love with him since you were kids and everyone knew. Well, everyone except Eddie, but he wasn’t exactly the most observant so you couldn’t blame him.

And you didn’t want him to know anyway. That was something you were going totally take to your grave. The whole thing was just so embarrassing for you and he definitely wasn’t the commitment kind of guy anyway. He usually just fucked women and let them leave, not wanting any attachment to them.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him since he was always traveling and didn’t have time for a relationship. And hey, the guy was only human. What was he supposed to do? Be surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women and not sleep with them when they offered?

You honestly weren’t sure how you came across it. You were just browsing the internet, looking to read about someone else when his name popped up. You were curious to say the least. You had no idea that people even wrote about Eddie in that way and thought it was hilarious, so obviously, you had to read it.

Then it got to the point where you were reading it every day, trying to find the best one to show him. What started out as a joke actually became not as much when you were actually enjoying what you were reading. You started imagining what it would have been like to actually be with him and it was getting out of hand.

You sat at your computer, another fanfiction pulled up and this one was different from the others. It wasn’t no longer soft and sweet. It was dirty. It was sexual with everything described on the page. You had read that kind of stuff before, but not about Eddie. Not about your best friend.

You were really getting into when you heard the door to your room open. You quickly minimized the page and turned to Eddie who looked almost unreal like always. With his leather jacket over his white t-shirt which was tucked into a pair of very ripped jeans that gave you a perfect view of his perfect thighs that you desperately wanted to get your hands on.

“What were you doing?” He asked, suspicious and you just put on a smile, trying to play it off.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, but Eddie just made a beeline for you. He spun your chair around and moved his hand to the mouse but you got there quicker, closing out the page completely.

“Oh, you silly girl,” he laughed. “You seemed to have forgotten that I can see your browser history.” He reached for the mouse and you grabbed it, holding it out of his reach as you rolled your chair away, the back of it eventually hitting the wall.

Eddie stepped over to you, resting his hands on the arm rests as he leaned so close to you that you could smell his breath. He looked like he was leaning in and you closed your eyes in anticipation only to open them and find Eddie at the computer, opening the last tab you had opened. You rolled your chair over, accepting defeat as you covered your face in embarrassment.

Eddie was a little shocked when he opened the page, but honestly wasn’t surprised. You read smut all the time. But wait a minute, was that his name? There it was again! You were reading smut about him? Since when?

“Why are you reading fanfiction about me?” The question wasn’t accusatory, more curious than anything.

“I was going to read about someone else, but then I saw your name and got curious. And then I was so determined to find one to read to you, but none of them seemed good enough.” Eddie knew he should’ve been weirded out, but he honestly just thought it was funny.

“So you’ve read these before?” He turned his face back towards the screen to read a little more.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But none like this, though.”

“Right,” he winked. “Of course not. But you like these though, huh?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” You did. Maybe a little too much.

“Do they get you hot?” His question caught you off guard, making you blush.

“What?”

“I bet they make you wet, huh?” How did he know that? It was as if he was psychic.

“Well-”

“Relax, babe. I’m just kidding.” You let out a sigh of relief. You’d die of embarrassment if he had actually been asking you that.

“Oh.”

“Unless they do actually make you wet.” You were so embarrassed that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Um, maybe a little.” He just chuckled and leaned forward so his lips were right by your ear.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to do this kind of stuff with me, all you had to do was ask.” His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of truth to his words.

“Really?” You didn’t quite believe him.

“Sure. Why read it when you have the real thing right here?”

“Eddie, this isn’t funny. If you’re going to make fun of me, I’d rather you just leave.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I’d love to give you the real thing if you’d let me.” He was being serious. He was actually offering to have sex with you and actually seemed enthusiastic about it. Was this all just some very real dream you had entered?

“You would?”

“If you want to.”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I’ve just-I’ve never done anything before,” you reminded him and he just nodded.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” He stood up, but you grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving.

“Please fuck me!” Your words came out much more needy than you intended and Eddie just looked at you with wide eyes before a smile broke out on his face.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

“And you can back out at any point.”

“I know.” He bent over the chair, his hands gripping the arm rests again. His face was so close to yours that you could make out every single detail. God, he was beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie reached up and pulled your lip from your teeth with his thumb and let it settle back into place before, leaning in, pressing a featherlight peck to your lips before pulling away.

“What was that?”

“Relax,” he laughed. “I’m just warming you up.” He leaned in again and pressed another peck to your lips. Another. Another until he slotted his lips between yours, capturing them in the softest, sweetest kiss.

Assuming that he was uncomfortable leaning over like that, you stood up from the chair and wrapped your arms around his neck before going in for another kiss. It was like none you had ever experienced before. It was like he put full thought into each one, trying to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t.

His arms wrapped around your waist as his tongue licked along the seam of your lips. You opened up and he slid his tongue inside, letting it swirl around yours. It felt so good and you were surprised that you were already aroused when he hadn’t even done anything.

A sound that was foreign to you escaped your mouth and you pulled away, bringing your hand up to your lips to cover them in embarrassment. Eddie just laughed and pulled your hand away.

“There’s not need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Make as much noise as you want. In fact, I’d prefer it.” When you still looked unsure, he continued. “I’m serious,” he pecked your lips once more. “Be as loud as you want. There’s no such thing as being too loud.”

“So, you want me to make the noise again?”

“I’d actually prefer it.” With that, Eddie’s lips were on yours again and he took no time to stick his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours. You didn’t hold back that time, letting the moan fully escape your lips and felt Eddie’s boner against you as he pulled you closer.

His hands traveled down your back and slowly moved up your hoodie as he tested the waters to see if it was okay. Once you didn’t say anything, his hands moved up even more to your bra that he realized wasn’t there. The idea of you not wearing one made him even more hard and he decided that he needed to see your tits for himself.

He slowly lifted the bottom of your hoodie and you lifted your arms up so he had so trouble removing it. He let out a gasp as your hoodie hit the floor as he took in your naked upper half. He had really been missing out. God, you were so fucking perfect.

“Christ. You’ve been hiding these from me all this time?” He reached up to touch them, taking them in his hands before giving them a squeeze.

“Well, it’s not exactly normal to show your best friend your tits, is it?”

“And yet, here we are,” he smirked.

“Eddie, our friendship has never been normal.”

“That’s true. But seriously, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I know,” you nodded and it made him even more hard knowing that you were so confident in yourself. Soon, his lips were back on yours again, this time more rough as he took what he wanted from you.

His thumbs moved your nipples in a circular motion and you let out a moan at the foreign feeling.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you told him and he continued, wanting to hear more of those pretty sounds fall from your lips. His lips moved to your neck as he slowly laid you down on the bed, removing his jacket and shirt as he did so.

He attached his lips to yours once again, this kiss slow and sloven, as if he had all the time in the world, and you supposed he did. He brought your bottom lip between his and gave it a little suck, causing you to let out a whimper and you to get even more wet. Once he realized you liked it, he did it again, harder that time before taking it between his teeth and biting down gently.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “More.” He bit down even harder and you let out your loudest moan. As he bit and sucked your lip, his hand traveled down to your sweatpants. He slowly stuck his hand down the front of them, on the hunt for your pussy.

Once he found it, Eddie’s fingers lightly grazed it, warming you up for the main event. He slowly stuck two fingers inside of you and your back arched in pleasure, your eyes closing tight.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were your moans and the squelching of your slick as he moved his fingers in and out of your cunt. You were already experiencing more pleasure than you ever had and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“You like that, hon?” He asked as he pumped a little faster.

“So good, don’t stop.” He hooked his finger and found just the right spot, causing your legs to stretch out at the pleasure.

“Oh my god, Eddie, I think I’m gonna-”

Just as you said the words, you reached your first climax, screaming his name as you did so. Eddie removed his fingers from you and you sat up just in time to watch him slowly lick your slick from his fingers.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Taste so good, sweetheart.”

“You can have another,” you told him, your confidence building.

“You let me finger you and now you’re going to let me eat you out? Well, sugar. It must just be my lucky day.” Eddie lowered himself onto his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed and grabbed you by the ankles, pulling you with him.

With your permission, he pulled down your pants and let out a dramatic gasp at the wet patch on your underwear. He then removed those as well and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your sopping wet cunt.

“You did all of this for me?” He gasped. “Sugar, you shouldn’t have.” He draped a leg over each shoulder and pressed open mouthed kisses to your thighs, not wanting them to feel left out before he inhaled your scent, desperate for a taste. “You look good enough to eat and I’m starving.”

Eddie let his nose brush your cunt as he dove in and you let out a gasp, gripping the comforter underneath you as you got used to the foreign feeling. He then slowly licked a stripe from your slit to your clit, eliciting a whine from you.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned and Eddie pulled away for a second, just so he could speak to you.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he groaned his voice all raspy, making you even more wet. “Swear I could do this all day.” He went in for more and licked and sucked as your back arched in pleasure, his fingers digging into your thighs as he lapped up every single bit of your slick.

His teeth grazed just the right spot and you swore that your vision went hazy at the pure euphoria you were experiencing. Was it always like that or was Eddie just that good? You were pretty sure it was the latter.

Your thighs pressed against his head as Eddie stuck his tongue fully inside you and your hands moved to his hair as you reached yet another orgasm, but he wasn’t done just yet.

His tongue swirled around your cunt and you yanked on his hair in reaction to the feeling. You hadn’t experienced anything like it and were sure that you definitely wanted him to do it again. It was too good to just pretend like it didn’t happen.

“Fuck,” you whined. “Right there.” He hit just the right spot to make a mewl fall from your lips and you fell back onto the mattress as you came down from your climax. Eddie gave your cunt one last lick before pulling his face away, the entire thing soaked in your slick, but he didn’t care. He’d be happy to lick it all up just to get another taste of you.

“God, could eat you for hours, baby. You taste heavenly.”

“Need your cock,” you said through labored breaths and Eddie was surprised. He thought you’d need a little break before you were ready.

“Baby, we just-”

“Eddie,” you said through grit teeth. “I need you now.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulled a condom from his wallet and quickly removed his jeans and underwear before rolling the thing onto his cock. He then lined himself up with your cunt and slowly inserted himself, both of you letting out moans at the sensation.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you since it was your first time and as good as it felt, you needed more. He wasn’t moving fast or harder enough.

“Harder,” you told him and he kept going slow, unsure of that was the right move for you. He didn’t want to hurt you, especially not on your first time.

“Are you sure?”

“Very fucking sure. Fuck me hard.” With that, Eddie pounded into you and you mewled in reaction.

“Oh,” you moaned. “Oh my god-fuck.”

“That’s it, honey,” Eddie responded. “Look at you, taking me so well. Look like a fucking princess underneath me.”

He continued to pound into you and the moans that left your mouth were enough to make him the hardest he had ever been. None of the other women he had fucked had been nearly as responsive to his moves as you had. You ate up every single thing and he loved that about you. That you took whatever he gave you and was nothing but grateful for it.

“Fuck, feel so good, princess,” he moaned, grabbing the onto your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he had more access to your pussy.

He thrusted and thrusted, eventually moving the fastest and hardest he could and that seemed to satisfy you. In return, Eddie was eating up all of your reactions, loving to hear your moans, desperate to have a recording of them because of how lovely they sounded.

Once you both reached your climaxes, Eddie pulled out of you and made you go pee while he disposed of the condom. He then joined you in the bathroom and the two of you got into the bed, not even bothering to put your clothes back on.

Eddie laid next to you and pulled you to him, bare skin to bare skin and pushed some your baby hairs off of your sweaty forehead. He then pressed a kiss to it and moved all the way down until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

He then pressed his forehead to yours, his brown eyes boring into yours. His hand moved leisurely up and down your arm and he licked his lips before he spoke.

“What if I told you that I wanted to do that more often?”

“I’d totally let you.” If it was anything like you had just experienced, you’d let do it anytime he wanted.

“Well, what if I told you that I wanted you to be the only person that I slept with?”

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” What ever he was suggesting, you were down for.

“No, more like a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of thing.”

“I’d love that.” You rolled on top of Eddie and peppered his face in kisses while he let out numerous giggles. You then pulling him in for a kiss that left him breathless to solidify your relationship status. The first of many that night and for the rest of your lives.

[monster-disaster]

could you do a possessive werewolf x shy reader headcanons about their sex and love Life?

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who knows he has to have you even before he knows your name.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who uses tactics and tricks to get close to you. Not in a mean or manipulating way, more like... he really has to work to get to know you. He actively has to search for topics you feel enthusiastic about and work from there carefully to make you talk about more private things of your life and not just about your favorite books or movies. (Of course, it doesn't mean he doesn't love the way you forget about yourself when you talk about a book you recently read and loved.)

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who wants you to be comfortable around him but still loves how flustered you get because of his shameless flirtings.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who starts with small things. His touches are slow and short at first, caressing your heated cheeks, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your neck to feel your pulse under his fingertip, resting his arm on your shoulders or around your waist just for a moment. He stares into your eyes while praising you, telling you how pretty you are while you struggle to say something. Anything.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who becomes your safety net. He pushes your boundaries but still protects them from the others. He eases himself into your comfort zone.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who gets jealous when someone shows too much interest in you. He is not afraid to glare at the others while pulling you onto his lap for a searing kiss. You don't notice any of this, though. You are too busy with the memory of his lips burning on yours. And if it's not enough, your werewolf has enough time to talk to the other males while you are busy with something else.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who uses his own scent to show his claim on you. He caresses your neck, the soft spot under your ear after you come home, and you smell like the city. He hugs you close, letting your clothes absorb his smell. He scowls every time you take a shower and wash off his scent, especially after sex. It just urges him to fuck you again, but he isn't complaining. And neither are you.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who is clearly the dominant one in the relationship. You and your well-being are his priority. He comforts you, helps you, and protects you. Because of your shyness, people often think you are naive or stupid, but your werewolf boyfriend knows better, and he makes sure you know better than that, too. He is ready to tear apart anyone who hurts you. You hate confrontation, but he has no problem with standing up for you or helping you while you fight your battles.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who spoils you as much as he can. He treats you like a princess because there is no way he would let another man do that and take you away from him. He makes sure there is nobody better for you than him.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who starts slow and careful in bed. At the beginning of your relationship, he is more busy with getting to know your body and your reactions than with his own pleasure. He enjoys seeing the arousal and need in your unfocused eyes, the sight of your open lips as you moan his name while your body trembles with pleasure. And the fact that he is the cause of all this makes him feral.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who shows you new, exciting things in bed but always makes sure that you are comfortable with anything he comes up with. Lots of communication and maybe even a safeword because he can be wild, especially during his rut.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who takes control in bed most of the time because he knows you need his lead to be comfortable and feel safe with him.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who fucks you until you see stars.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who loves being above you, watching your face contort with pleasure or seeing your back arch as he holds onto your hips while thrusting into you. By the time he is done with you, you smell like him through and through, and it urges him for a second, a third, and a fourth round.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who lets you take control every now and again just to see you struggle and hear you beg for him to give you what you need.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who loves having sex with you in front of the mirror. You get excited and flustered when he makes you look in the mirror while his cock disappears in your wet pussy. And he goes insane when he sees his own hands on your body, groping your tits, rubbing your clit, or holding your neck to keep your back against his chest while bouncing you on his erection.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who knots you, keeping his cock deep inside your warmth while your wet walls tighten around him as you reach your climax.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who takes care of you after sex. He brings you snacks and water. He bathes you (just to scent you immediately afterward), and keeps you in his arms the whole night, caressing your sore muscles while whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep on his chest.

And a possessive!werewolf boyfriend who puts a ring on your finger after one year.

[angry-fandom-mom]

Okay I got another hot take and it's about Charles again

Take his reaction to the Cat King and Monty going after Edwin. That man was very blatantly jealous. It was not subtle. His facial expressions, angry tone, threats towards the Cat King, as well as accusations say it all. EDWIN HIMSELF picked up on the irrational anger and called him out for it.

Now, one could argue that the anger in Charles didn't stem from romantic feelings. That maybe Charles just felt threatened or protective because he's Edwin's best mate and didn't want his attention and time being taken away or somebody to move in on his best friend position.

...I call bullshit on that for one reason. Niko.

Niko and Edwin grew very close very fast. It is clear their friendship is so special and they have an amazing connection. Edwin was alone with Niko a lot both on cases and hanging out with her in her bedroom and they spent a large amount of time together. Edwin very obviously adores her and vice versa.

Just look at them, they're adorable! And Edwin, who is very reserved and doesn't offer physical affection to basically anyone (except Charles occasionally), gives it to Niko and has no issues with her touching him. But Charles has absolutely no issue with Niko, never shows any signs of anger towards her and also rather likes her.

Why? Well, Niko's a woman. Whilst it is clear Edwin loves her very much, he is also clearly not attracted to women so she is not a romantic choice for Edwin... so she is not a threat in Charles' mind.

Funny that Charles gets so worked up over two men that have a romantic interest in Edwin and also Edwin potentially being interested back, but has absolutely no problem with Niko becoming so close to Edwin.

Potential love interests for Edwin are a threat to Charles but new friends for Edwin are not.

That doesn't smell very much like just platonic feelings and motives to me Charles, just sayinnnnngggg

[leovenuslatina]

BÉSAME

──★ ˙ ̟🍷 !!

THIS READING IS 18+ MDNI !!!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

what you do that turns your FS on?

🔮

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

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pile one - six of wands , queen of cups

🍀

you’re like really popular and that turns your FS on that you don’t mind being the center of attention and how many people love you make them love you that much more. you’re everyone’s favorite person including your FS. your FS loves how much you are true to yourself and how authentically you. what turns them on is how everyone wants you but he’s the only one that can have you 😏. you radiate high self esteem and how good you feel about yourself makes them feel that much better about themselves. what turns them on is how caring you are and how when i’m bed together you are very skillful in attuning life to his needs. you’re someone who is nurturing and healing to be around and a master with your hands for some reason your touch is like hypnotic to him you can literally make him do anything you want just by one look or touch. what turns him on is how well you take care of yourself yes you nurture and care for those around you but you but even more or just as much care into yourself and that’s really sexy to your FS because you give like a blueprint for how he can come in and take care of you.

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pile two - the world , page of wands

🌍

what you do that turns your FS on is how adventurous you are like you’ll literally try anything with them 😜 if you know you know ;)you’re seriously down for whatever when it comes to freak town w your FS lol he loves how you’ll throw out kinky ideas for the two of you to try and do in the bedroom. he’ll be really turned on when you buy books or send him articles about different sexual positions or just things to try to spice up y’all’s sex life. the two of you might also send freaky vids back and forth to each other like what you want to do to each other because you guys are just kinky freaks(in a good way ofc). one or both of you might be extremely hyper sexual and like will literally try to hump each other anywhere the two of you are i’m talking parties, events , bars , clubs you literally don’t care. but it turns your FS on how much you’re all over him and how much you not only tell him but SHOW him how attracted to him you are. your FS loves what a bubbly person you are and how you’re always moving and going and how impulsive you are being with you is literally a huge thrill for your FS.

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pile three - knight of swords, page of pentacles

⚔️

to turn on your FS you are very very bold ! when you want him you go for him whenever kissing him all over even peeling off clothes like you deadass don’t care even if you’re in front of people you don’t care ! you’re the type of pda couple that makes everyone else uncomfortable 🤭 (in a good way tho) he loves what a go getter you are . you may even be a little spicy and feisty and your FS finds that very hot you don’t put up with any bullshit and when you have an attitude he’s very turned on lmao. you’ll never do what you don’t want to and you know exactly what you want and that’s exactly what you get no matter what. your FS truly admires that you’re kinda stubborn and headstrong you are. you’re very quick moving and you go for things that most people might find impossible but you dgaf. i’m seeing this relationship between the two of you might also have gone fast because of you not being afraid to take things to the next level with your FS and they really appreciate you taking the lead on that. another thing that turns them on is your luxurious aesthetic and being with you feels like being on a vacation. you always look so pretty and taken care of and relaxed and he loves that about you.

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💘 for paid private readings dm me 💘

1 question - $15

2 questions - $20

3 questions - $30

long channeled message - $90

plzzz no questions about health or death ☠️

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[lives-in-midgard]

Finally, Back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When you hear a loud noise in the middle of the night, you think someone is breaking into your apartment, turns out it's just Bucky who is back from his mission.

Word Count: 820

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for helping me decide what to post, with voting on this poll. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Being in a relationship with a superhero wasn’t always easy. Especially if you are a civilian and living a normal life. Well, actually it’s not that normal anymore since you started dating Bucky Barnes. Now you always have to worry when he is on a mission, but when he gets home, Bucky immediately drives to your apartment. Bucky loves you so much and so do you. You had been dating for a few months when you decided to move in together.

You love living with Bucky. From waking up cuddled up with him to going for a walk, cooking together and watching your favorite shows or movies together. Another thing you like to do is reading next to each other and then discuss what happened in the book.

You were currently cooking dinner, normally you would cook with Bucky, but this time you were cooking alone because Bucky was on a mission, which he had already been for three weeks. You weren’t sure where he was or when he would be back. You just knew that it was a dangerous mission and to protect you, Bucky didn’t want to tell you anything about it.

Before Bucky left, he promised you that he would come back home to you and you’re believing and hoping that it’s true and he will come back home soon.

You missed Bucky so much and felt so lonely without him. You started to miss him a lot and everything felt different when he wasn’t here. Especially coming home after work to an empty apartment and no one is waiting for you. Bucky also missed you so much and couldn’t wait to see again. He did his best on this mission, so that he could be home as quickly as possible.

It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t sleep again. You missed Bucky’s arms around you and how he always gave you a kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight. After lying there for a while, you started to overthink and couldn’t get the idea out of your head that something might have happened to Bucky. You heard the wind outside and some strange noises. Suddenly you heard a loud bang, and someone mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You sat up in your bed and listened carefully. Suddenly you heard someone opening your apartment door.

Shit, someone broke into your apartment. You thought and reached for the gun, you put in the bedside table in case something happens. Bucky taught you how to use it, even though he hoped you would never need it. You stood up and took a deep breath. You had to be brave for Bucky.

You quietly opened the door to your bedroom a bit, held the gun in front of your body and then said loudly.

“Wherever you are, I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” You opened the door more and took a step out of your bedroom. Suddenly the light went on and you saw Bucky standing a few steps away from you.

“Doll.” He said softly.

“Bucky you’re home.” Tears began to form in your eyes as you watched Bucky walking closer to you. He gave you a soft smile and said.

“Yeah, I’m finally back home with my girl.” He looked at the gun and then back at you.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, doll.” Bucky said and then you realized that you still had the gun in your hands and got nervous.

“Let me take the gun, doll.” Bucky said and you nodded. Then he gently took the gun from your hand and put it in his back pocket. After that, Bucky opened his arms and pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more, sweetheart.” You don’t know how long you stood there, hugging each other and telling the other one how much you love and missed each other. After a while you turned away and Bucky placed his hand on your cheek and his metal hand on your back and pulled you into a passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, you smiled at each other and Bucky took your hand.

“Let’s go cuddle.” Bucky said and you giggled, which made Bucky smile. He kissed your forehead and then you went to your bedroom. Bucky changed into different clothes and laid down next to you. Then you laid your head on his chest and Bucky wrapped his arms around you.

You laid there for a while when Bucky suddenly broke the silence.

“Let’s go somewhere, just you and me.” You looked up at him with a smile and Bucky gently rubbed your back.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Bucky and you then started talking about some places that you both have wanted to visit for a while and you can’t wait to see these beautiful places with Bucky. After a while, you nodded off in your boyfriend's loving embrace.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

[moonstruckme]

ok i have a request/idea: gf reader on tour supporting bf rockstar!sirius but she starts to feel homesick being on the road for so long <33333 just feel like sirius would be so comforting and caring

I feel the same babe! Thank you for requesting <3

rockstar!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Even after months on tour, you don’t understand why rockstars need to smoke indoors. You’ve found a corner of refuge in the stranger’s house, siphoning fresh air from an open window, but you feel for James, grinning and bearing it while he talks to another band that performed tonight and makes nice with groupies while showing off pictures of his girlfriend back home. 

Part of you is still a bit awestruck that you get to go to these things, another part equally mystified at how routine it’s come to feel. During the first several nights of the tour, you’d been endlessly dazzled by the wealth you were suddenly surrounded with, the vibrancy of the people around you, the novelty of it all. The world had suddenly become so much larger, and everywhere you and the boys went everyone wanted to talk to them, buy you all drinks, invite you to parties and afterparties and after-afterparties. 

Sirius bears it beautifully, like this was always his destiny—in a lot of ways, you imagine it was—but sometimes when the two of you are alone he’ll confess to still feeling giddy that he and his friends have made it this big. You wonder if it’ll ever feel normal for him, the hugeness of it. You can tell by now that it never will for you. 

You’re still very impressed by the glamor of touring, you still have a good time on these nights out, but lately you’ve started to feel the distance between where you are and your real life. It’s almost as if before you could feel something invisible connecting you to home and, somewhere along on the road, it severed without you noticing. Now it just feels like a phantom limb, and when you try to recall the scent of you and Sirius’ kitchen or mime the way you have to jimmy your key to unlock the front door, you can’t manage it. 

You’re still thinking of the scent of your kitchen when it sidles up next to you. 

“You smell like garlic,” you tell Sirius, not without fondness. 

“God, it’s that potent, is it?” Your boyfriend’s tone speaks to a chagrin entirely unlike him, and he corroborates its falsity by caging you in his arms and touching his cheek to yours. You don’t mind, as he knew you wouldn’t. “I was given a choice, gorgeous, and I took a gamble.” 

“Mm. What was that?” 

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

You turn in his arms, tangling your fingers behind his back so you’re holding him as he is you. People start to give you a bit of berth, as one does for couples at parties, and selfishly you enjoy it. 

Touring is non-stop motion, a blur of people and places and sounds, and you miss the slow, quiet moments you and Sirius used to have more of. You’re with him all the time, but it doesn’t always feel like it. It hardly feels like you’re with yourself. Not his fault, not anyone’s, but not ideal. 

“It’s hardly one,” you say. 

“Which means” —he drops his lips to your eyebrow, speaking loudly to be heard over the music but just soft enough to have goosebumps skittering down your arms— “the fast food places will be closing in an hour. Fancy some grease, my love?” 

You tilt your chin up, pecking him on the lips. Truly, you don’t mind the garlic as much as you suppose you ought to. “Sure, let’s go.” 

Getting to the door is a melee, several people stopping you to try and pull Sirius back into conversation or ask if you’re going to the next party and such-and-such’s place in a couple hours, but when you do make it out the noise deadens and the air tastes clean. 

It’s a pleasant night, just cool enough to raise the hair on your arms and refresh your energy. Somewhere above you, the moon is hidden behind clouds, but still it’s bright enough that it casts a silvery glow in the areas not lit by streetlights. 

You make it a few paces down the block before Sirius is fisting his hand in the material of your shirt, spinning you around to face him. 

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” 

Only thrice between the hotel and when he went on stage. “No.” 

“Liar,” he says lovingly, leaning in to give you a kiss. 

You expect from his mood for it to be hot and indelicate, and you’d hardly have complained, but he closes his lips around yours softly. His hand loosens on your front, coasting upwards to cup your cheek, sweet and savoring. 

“Garlic knots,” he says as he pulls back. 

You’re unjustifiably breathless. “Hm?” 

“That was the choice I had to make. One of Ricky’s friends heated up garlic knots, and I wagered you’d prefer kissing someone who tasted like garlic over someone who tasted like cigarettes.” 

“It’s not just someone.” You grin at him, turning and taking his hand to keep walking. “I’ll always prefer kissing you. I would’ve done it either way, you know.” 

You can hear Sirius’ smile in his voice, your favorite sound. “Yeah, but I chose right, didn’t I?” 

“You did,” you confirm, and he gives your hand a triumphant squeeze. “I have no idea where I’m going, by the way. I don’t know why I took the lead.” 

He hums. “Do you ever think you might have one of those honing instincts? Like, the way bees are to their hive, that’s how you are with fast food. My honeybee,” he says it drawn out and extra saccharine, knowing you’ll hate it, and laughs when you let go of his hand and make to walk away from him. 

Sirius grabs for your hand back, tugging you close enough to get his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You don’t put up much resistance. 

“You’re spot on, sweetheart,” he says. “I clocked a McDonald’s just a few streets down when we were driving here.” 

A buzz of excitement goes through you. “Why are you so keen on McDonald’s all of a sudden?” Sirius is as happy with fast food as the rest of you, but you know he’s been enjoying the lavish meals the boys’ new manager pays for and having room service sent up at your hotel. “We can always have that at home.” 

“You’ve been talking about milkshakes for a couple of days now,” he says, “and you’re getting quiet. I recognize that mood. I missed home last summer, too.” 

“Really?” This is the boys' first big tour—they’ve already been on a shorter, less grandiose one you hadn’t come along for—but it’s hard for you to picture Sirius ever not enjoying it. He’s not someone who sets down roots, and with the way he talks about where he grew up you’ve never thought of him as getting particularly nostalgic for any sort of place. “I figured you’d feel most at home wherever James and Remus are.” 

“Yeah, but we’d left you behind. I was torn in two, gorgeous.” Sirius’ tone is doing that weird thing where it’s teasing but not. You can hear the sincerity lining his words. He mashes a kiss into the side of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” 

“Because.” You take his hand where it’s draped over your shoulder, your fingertips dancing in between his own. “It’s not the sort of mood I’d like to give into if I can help it, and I’d rather be here with you than at home anyways, so it’s pointless. There was nothing you could do, baby.” 

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” Sirius gives your fingers a playful squeeze. “You should always assume there’s something I can do, haven’t we been over this? Right now, I can get my girl a milkshake and some fries, and then I was thinking we could go find a park to eat them.” 

That sounds so unbelievably nice. You turn your head to smile at him, and find he’s already looking at you with a similar expression.

“And if more things come up that would make you feel better, I can try to make those happen. How does that sound, lovely girl?” 

You steal a kiss to his cheek, but Sirius doesn’t let you get away with just that, stopping to hold you in place so he can peck you properly on the lips. The neon sign of the McDonalds is close enough now to cast you in its glow. 

“You woo me more every day, do you know that?” 

“Yes, well,” says Sirius, wrapping his arm around you again to lead you the rest of the way, “I do have to prove myself better than home somehow, don’t I?”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi!

If you’re still doing these asks, do you mind maybe adding a part 5 to Passion for Fashion?

I would love to see how Danny and Red Robin’s impromptu date goes and Constantine’s reaction to all this.

And poor Killer Croc is so confused and uncomfortable around the twins, oh and not to forget Dan’s inner turmoil over losing a love interest because his body no longer matches his mental and spiritual age😂

I’d also love to see the reactions of the rest of the Batfam to Tim going on a date and their reaction to Dan’s flirting with Croc.

Your request came in after I had already written most of Part 5, but I hope I can include most of what you asked for in it and make it up with another Part of the Au for you.

Danny strutted down the runway, fighting to keep his gaze straight ahead as various flashes from cameras went off.

He mentally went through his checklist of proper catwalk tips that he watched the other day—or, more accurately, Dan forced him to watch from some free video website—ensuring his hands were relaxed, long strides were made, and his shoulders were firm but not stiff.

This was the contest's second round, with Tim Drake proposing the "Gotham Aesthetic" as the theme and challenge. Apparently, the teenage CEO spent most of his childhood taking photos of the city and wanted others to appreciate the architecture of the aged town.

There was no kidnapping attempt this time, and the contest was back on schedule. However, there was a delay because some of the models had dropped out after they were nearly sold (Dan called them cowards, but Danny personally thought they were wise to do so). Hence, fashion designers had to scramble for someone new or forfeit their position in the contest, allowing some eliminated to take their place.

It took nearly four weeks to confirm that the same designers were staying but would need to remake or adjust their outfits. Thankfully, Wayne Amature Fashion Show was more than willing to offer them time.

Dan had already made Danny's outfit but figured he would remake it anyway. Once completed, new designs were crafted, adjusted, and flung into an idea box. He created so many it was as if Dan were a man possessed (Pun intended).

Danny needed to figure out how much fabric he was going through, but sometimes, he had to remind the other to sleep, eat, and shower. It seemed the other kept forgetting he was human now and needed to do these things for his health and Danny's poor nose.

Dan also seemed obsessed with exploring new parts of Gotham just to take pictures of buildings to get "inspiration." Danny went with him as he had nothing better to do, and the pair made an unlikely duo.

Both got stares in the streets—Danny for strutting around Gotham wearing some of Dan's regretted challenge outfits in an effort to learn to catwalk in them and Dan for dressing as close to the homeless as he could. For all that Dan could make amazing pieces of fashion, the man only filled his own closet with mismatched joggers and pajamas.

Danny had to force him back to change at one point since Dan had intended to walk around in a bathrobe- with shorts and stained short sleeves underneath it. He drew the line on bathrobes.

It was so embarrassing to be gawked at all the time that Danny could not help but wish Dan would try just a little. This was somewhat worse than when he was alone because at least then he knew it was just how stupid and awkward he looked in the outfits.

Now, he just felt subconscious about trying too hard compared to Dan.

"Relax, kid," The other scoffed, snapping a picture of the Brown Bridge. "By the time you're my age, you honestly stop caring about what other people think, so long as you like how you look."

"Can't you at least comb your hair?"

"I forgot how to do that."

Danny snaps his head in his direction, blinking owlishly "What?"

Dan shrugs. "My hair was fire for a literal decade, brat. How was I supposed to comb it?"

"Oh," Danny supposes, that makes sense. After all, Dan was more ghost than human at that point, driven mad by his grief and a colossal monster. He sort of forgot that. "Do you want me to show you how?"

"Ew. No. Too much work. Humans are so high maintenance." Dan rolled his eyes and shifted his tone into a mocking one. Comb your hair, change your clothes, take a bath."

"You smell like shit, Dan."

"You look like shit!"

"We have the same face!"

"It's better on me!"

Their public arguments also attract lots of stares. Danny would feel embarrassed by them if he wasn't so busy bickering with Dan as they moved about.

Ultimately, Dan had made his outfits formal steampunk during the break. Danny wished he had stayed with the Dark Academia idea because he felt he was walking around in a costume instead of clothes.

Dan told him that it felt too basic to go with Dark Academia since, now that he saw more of Gotham, he thought it better represent the city as a whole instead of the elites of Gotham. Danny debated with him until he agreed to make two of the four outfits- meant to represent all four seasons of Gotham's beauty or something stupid like that- to be dark academia.

Danny nears the end of the runway, stopping right before the judges to strike his pose. His eyes never leave the center decorative flower in the far back, but he makes sure to slowly turn his head as if he is gazing at the crowd.

There are gasps as he pulls off his tophat in a twirl to hide the way he presses the button on his hip. At once, his pants and sleeves light up in the gentle glow of the Brown Bridge's famous historic lampost show. It's no brighter than his ghost glow, but it makes him look like a vision, especially when he puts the hat back on with a mysterious curl of his lips.

Danny practiced that move for weeks—even when it made him cringe—and he is happy to have pulled it off successfully as he twists around and struts away. The Brown Bridge only lights its lanterns in the winter, so this hits a true Gotham native here for the seasonal challenge portion.

With his superhearing, he manages to catch Tim Drake-Wayne's dreamy sigh. Danny fights the urge to fist bump. If they impressed the special judge so much, then they just guaranteed their spot in the next round.

Each round meant they were closer to completing the mission. Since it's been practically impossible to find Batman—even when the man was running around dressed like a giant bat—this was their best bet.

Once he's backstage, he rushes to Dan's area, already ripping off most of his outfit for the last piece. Spring dark academia vaguely reminded him of rich school uniforms, but at least they didn't have ridiculous amounts of belts and metal on them.

Dan already has the outfit set out and quickly helps him change. He adjusts the vest and collar for Danny, glancing angrily at the model walking up the line. "Come on, we only have a few minutes before the last two models finish their walk for the Winter portion."

Danny nods, throwing on the gargoyle ear cuffs, only to pause when he sees a strange card on Dan's station. He pushes aside the black rings to grab a tiny green card with a giant question mark. "What's this?"

"Some guy saw my work and wanted to commission him a suit. Apparently, he was tired of how no one could style the question marks." Dan answered, distracted while reapplying some powder to Danny's face.

"A question mark? Why?"

"It's his gimmick or something. I didn't bother to ask for too many details. He will be going to our house soon to get his measurements done," Dan says, twisting Danny's face with his chin to make sure everything looks good. Danny lets him, blindly slipping on his rings and bracelets. "Thought it be a fun little side project."

"How did he hear about you?"

"You remember how you took those boxes of clothes to the job search office to give to people? Apparently, one of his employees' younger brothers borrowed a suit for his prom, and he thought the photos were nice." Dan shrugs. Then he glances in alarm at the stage hand who signals for them. "Never mind that. It's almost our turn again. Get out there!"

Danny scurries away, but not before he sees a beautiful redhead woman in green- was that leaves and vines???- stride over to Dan as the clone puts away his makeup.

She gestures with a business card, and Dan blinks as she talks once before he eagerly takes out his design journal. She must be a performer asking Dan for a new forest design or something.

Danny wonders why Gotham has so many people with oddly specific gimmicks.

He turns his head away to stride back into the catwalk, head held high as he does so. Danny makes the mistake of locking eyes with one of the judges- Tim Drake-Wayne is gawking at him like the people of the street do- and he snaps his gaze away, fighting to keep his composure.

He thinks he does well since Team Fenton snatches first place in this round. Drake-Wayne catches him at the after-party, praising his final outfit so much that Danny offers to give it to him, knowing Dan wouldn't mind.

Drake-Wayne goes red, early agreeing, but since they are so different in size—the CEO's waist is slightly leaner but with far more muscular forearms—Danny tells him to come by his house that weekend to have Dan resize it for him.

It should be fine since the Question Mark man and Leaf Lady will also be there that day for their own measurements.

[sadnymi]

Shakespeare

[Mattheo riddle × reader]

Summary:Your obsession with Shakespeare is driving mattheo insane. And now he found himself jealous of fictional characters and a long-dead playwright.

Words:0.5k

Sitting in the Slytherin common room, the fire crackling in the hearth, I watched as a couple of students began to argue near the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. As their voices rose, I felt Mattheo's arm tighten around my shoulders. He always had a protective streak, especially when tensions flared.

Suddenly, I couldn't help myself. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks," I quoted, my voice cutting through the noise. The room fell silent for a moment, and all eyes turned to me.

Mattheo chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Another Shakespeare quote, darling?"

I grinned up at him, unable to resist. "What can I say? He just knew how to capture the essence of human nature."

"Great, another Shakespearean monologue. Can't you save that for class?" Pansy said.

“I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes but there was a hint of amusement in them. "You know, sometimes I think you're more in love with Shakespeare than with me."

I leaned closer, my lips brushing his ear. "You jealous of a dead playwright, Mattheo?"

He smirked, his hand slipping down to my waist. "Only when you quote him more than you kiss me."

A few days later, we were in the library, studying for our Potions exam. As usual, the silence was only broken by the rustling of pages and the occasional whisper. I was immersed in "Hamlet" when a scuffle broke out between two Ravenclaws over a disputed study spot.

 “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.” I couldn't resist quoting, earning a few chuckles from nearby students.

Mattheo groaned, pulling my book down. "Really? Again with the Shakespeare?"

I giggled. "What? It's fitting."

He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You know what else is fitting? My cock inside you."

My cheeks flushed, looking around to make sure nobody heard. "Mattheo, we're in the library."

He grinned wickedly. "Doesn't mean I can't make you wet just by talking."

The rest of the day was a blur as we were now lying on the couch in the dark empty Slytherin common room, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin. I had "Romeo and Juliet" open on my lap, reading aloud one of my favorite passages.

"Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun."

Mattheo's eyes darkened with something primal. "You know, I don't like you quoting other men, even if they're fictional."

I laughed softly. "You're jealous of Romeo now?"

He kissed my neck, nipping lightly. "I don't want to share you with anyone, even if they're just words on a page."

I closed the book and turned to straddle him, feeling his growing hardness beneath me. "You have nothing to worry about, Mattheo. You're my Romeo."

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me down to grind against him. "Damn right I am. Now, why don't you show me how much you love me, Juliet?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ A little rockstar Eddie for you all this evening. Matchbox Twenty always gets me in my feelings about these two dont ask me why. I hope you guys enjoy! 🧡 }

He and Steve break up. It's gentle. And mutual. And it breaks both their hearts. Steve isn't happy on the road with him. And wasn't happy at home without him. So they agree to separate. To take time away. To grow, hopefully, both of them hoping they find their way back to each other.

They still text pretty frequently. But the main thing is, Eddie and Robin still text too. And she tells him she's gonna tell him something. That she's breaking her and Steve's sacred best friend oath, to tell Eddie this.

Steve's still not happy.

They're roommates, he and Robin. And she sees him getting sadder and sadder, missing Eddie. The only time she sees him smile is when he's talking to Eddie, either texting, or actually talking, or every now and then they all do video chats. And that's when Steve is happy. She tells Eddie. The HE makes Steve happy.

And Eddie can't just let that go. Cuz he's been miserable too. Not going out after shows anymore with the CC boys, just going back to the bus and texting Steve. The only thing that's making his days bright.

And he loves his music. He does. But god does he love Steve too.

So one night. Eddie and the boys are on a talk show. They play one of their new singles before the commercial break. And are supposed to play another at the end of the show. Steve goes to the bathroom for one second, and then Robin is yelling for him. He washes his hands runs back to the living room, hands still wet.

Robin has the tv paused, Eddie's face almost filling the screen.

"I rewound it a little just... here. I'm gonna... go in my room." And she tosses the remote at him and runs to her room. Steve feels nervous, looking at the tv, Eddie's larger than life face making him smile before he sits, pulls his lip between his teeth, and presses play.

"Alright so I know we're supposed to be playing a single of ours, but I gotta change things up. Cuz... I have something that needs saying, and Matchbox Twenty unfortunately already said it best, so..." he wipes at his head with his forearm, looking nervous, giddy.

"Here goes. Steve. If you're watching. And god I hope you are. This one's for you." He sighs, takes a step back and starts the song.

The first notes hit Steve like a freight train. His heart pounding in his ears, he turns the tv up and tucks his knees up to his chest, eyes locked on the screen.

Eddie's playing is old acoustic guitar, his hair falling in his face. He sings the first few lines, voice soft, and deep, and god Steve misses him so fucking much. And then he sings,

"You think I'm weak, I think you're wrong." And his eyes flick up at the end, looking right into the camera, right at Steve. He literally gasps, drops his feet to the floor and scoots to the edge of the couch, his hands shaking.

The next few lines are just as soft, his eyes moving away from the camera again, until he sings,

"And I think you're so mean, I think we should try." Little smirk on his mouth when he says it, Steve knowing Eddie loves when he's mean, loves when he's bitchy. But his brow furrows when he says he thinks we should try, and his voice shakes and Steve's hands move to cover his chest as he watches Eddie keep singing.

He looks straight into the camera again when he sings,

"Baby you need to come home." And Steve feels the first tear fall down his cheek. The music softens again but then Eddie's singing with that little smirk and Steve's breath catches.

"I bet you're hard to get over." The smirk melts to a smile and Eddie closes his eyes, sings,

"I bet the room just won't shine." He looks sad as he continues, until he gets to the next,

"And I think you're so mean." And he's smiling again, giving that knowing look to the camera again. Steve laughs, tears falling freely now. And then Eddie is frowning, his fingers moving over his guitar,

"I think I'm just scared, that I know too much." His head shaking.

"I can't relate and that's a problem I'm feelin. If you're gone," his voice goes rough, his eyes move to the camera again and Steve almost sobs, he knows that frustrated look, Eddie always feeling outside things, like he can't relate.

"Baby you need to come home, come home." The desperation in his voice has Steve sliding to his knees in front of the couch, hands still clasped against his chest, fingers moving toward his neck.

The house band kicks in then, orchestral backing to the CC boys playing and it's beautiful. Eddie smiles as he keeps singing, nodding their way.

He moves his eyes back to the camera and is basically pleading with Steve now, as he sings, and Steve is humming along as best he can, his throat full of fire, fingers wrapped there, pressing gently to ease the pain a little.

"I think I'm scared. Do I talk too much?" Eddie sings, his eyebrows furrowing with a mocking thoughtful expression, Steve laughs through a sob as he watches Eddie play, watches him sing, watches him ask Steve to come home.

The CC boys chime in soflty,

"Somethin in me." And Eddie follows them, softly too, but strong.

"Everything in."

The boys going even softer.

"Somethin in me in."

Eddie follows, voice going impossibly soft, eyes on the camera.

"In you."

And then the lights drop and it's just Eddie sitting in a spot light, he keeps his eyes on the camera and whispers,

"Please come home." And lowers his head, hair falling as he looks into his lap. The light stays on for a few more moments and then goes off.

The camera cuts to the host, looking a little teary eyed themselves, and they call for commercial and Steve loses it. He hunches over and is claws at his chest, sobs falling silently past his lips. He gasps a few times, falling to his butt on the floor, trying to catch his breathe.

"They're in Chicago in two days." Robin's watery voice cuts through his crying. He turns and sees her standing there, leaning against the wall near the hallway, arms wrapped around herself, her cheeks are wet too.

"I just bought us tickets. You should probably start packing now. We all know it takes you fucking forever." She rolls her eyes, wipes at her face, and laughs when Steve crashes into her.

She helps him pack. It takes him almost the full two days. Robin teasing him about it as they dash out the door to catch their train.

Robin texts Eddie that their coming. She doesn't tell him that Steve's planning on staying. Eddie puts them on the backstage pass list, gets them all the upgrades, and sends a pack of the good earplugs because he knows Steve always forgets his (he did).

Steve's waiting nervously in the dressing room after the show. Moves around. Doesn't know what to do with his hands suddenly. But as soon as the door swings open it doesn't matter.

Eddie is on him in seconds, a blur of hair and flailing limbs before he collides with Steve. And then they're both crying, holding each other, swaying on the spot. Eddie breaks first, sobs,

"Are you staying?" He sniffles, hands moving over Steve's face, wiping his tears. Steve's already nodding, smiling, and crying, and wiping at Eddie's face too.

"Yeah. Yeah for as long as you'll have me." Steve laughs, sobs, pulls Eddie close again. Eddie kisses his shoulder and squeezes him and then pulls back and looks... shy? His cheeks are flushed from crying but he won't meet Steve's eyes when he says,

"Good. Cuz I might have done something crazy." Eddie says, giving a small smiley cringe as he finally looks at Steve.

"Crazy like not playing a new single on late night tv so you can serenade me with Matchbox Twenty?" Steve laughs, his heart pounding, feeling giddy. Eddie laughs, kisses Steve, pulls back, his head shaking.

"Oh it's way crazier than that." Eddie laughs, his eyes wild.

"Oh god what did you do?" Steve laughs, feeling manic, his hands not leaving Eddie, holding onto his arms.

"I bought a house." Eddie says, laughs, high in his throat.

"You-"

"I bought, us, a house. You and me." Eddie nods, cups Steve's cheeks.

"I meant what I said. I wanted you to come home. I just... hadn't mentioned that I bought one, for you to come home to." Eddie's smile wavers for a moment, and Steve barks a laugh.

"You bought us a house." He says through his laughter, Eddie smile coming back, it starts soft, and then gets big, wide, bright and shiny the way Steve loves it.

"I did, yeah." He's still nodding, cheeks dimpled as Steve clings to him, still laughing.

"We have a house!" He yells at the ceiling as he starts jumping in place.

"We have a house!" Eddie echoes, jumping along with him. They keep saying it, laughing, and jumping, and holding on to each other as they shout their excitement, giggling maniacally.

Eddie carries Steve over the threshold of their new home a week later. The rest of there tour cancled as the boys and the party all help them move in. It's nothing crazy, bigger than Steve's childhood home, but nothing too theatrical, surprisingly. It's out in the woods a ways, because Steve, despite all the shit that went down in Hawkins, loves being in the woods, in nature.

Steve cries off an on all day, because the house is perfect. Eddie had some personal touches added before they got there. It's the perfect mix of the both of them.

Steve settles into bed after they have everything unpacked, Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his nose buried in Steve's hair, feeling warm, and loved, and so fucking happy he has a place to call home. So fucking happy that the man he calls home, wanted a home with him.

[loveemagicpeace]

Some astrological things

Mercury in capricorn -they like sad sarcasm. Many times when they make a joke with that say things that they really mean but show it in a very hidden way. And they are also one of the signs that are not prone to long writing.

Sagittarius placements-they always do things with some kind of meaning. For them, everything has a deeper meaning, and if they are really hot for someone, they will write it off really quickly and effectively. They usually feel people through energy.

Water moons have a lot of emotions in them, which they always carry with them. Everything they do is related to emotions. They make a lot of emotional sacrifices for someone. And they always want to feel emotionally safe wherever they are or with whomever they are. Cancer moon is a very intuitive moon for spaces, they also feel the space they are in ,very strongly.

Mars in sagittarius in 12th house-your reactions are dramatic and emotional at the same time. It is also noticed that anger is often expressed through passion. Everything they do also involves passion and emotion. It is difficult for them to do something that is emotionless and has no soul.

Capricorn rising people & scorpio placements sometimes they can't imagine a relationship without it ending. Until they are 100% about someone, in their head they will always end it somehow. They will test your loyalty and dedication. How much are you willing to invest and give in a relationship.

Sagittarius placements in particular, I would say Venus and Mars are very passionate when it comes to relationships and will put their energy into a relationship, but if they feel that the energy is not returned, they will immediately remove the person from their life. They especially don't like it when they have the feeling that someone is going to leave them. They prefer to leave someone before they are left. While they may not be as vocal about this fear as Pisces is, they still do fear the day when someone — anyone — tells them they are leaving them, for good.

Cancer moon & Sagittarius moon-I personally think that water moons most belong to water moons (because that way they will feel the most understanding and receive the emotions they want). Cancer moon, in my opinion, goes very well with taurus moon because both moons will feel emotionally stable and safe. But these two moons (Sag & Cancer) can be very strong together. Cancer moon can make sagittarius moon feel that they are loved, accepted, have a home and can feel safe and familiar. They give them a sense of emotions and that they can express them and show how they feel in a more dramatic way. The Sagittarius moon can show the Cancer moon that everything that is foreign is not necessarily bad and that when you go outside your comfort zone you can see a lot. It can give them meaning and a new perspective. It gives a feeling of passion and excitement. For cancer moon , sag can be a little challenging in his relationship, but in a good way.

The sun represents the person and their individuality. The sun sign is a person until the end of his life. How you develop through life is also often shown by the sun and the house it is in. For example: Sun in Libra in the 9th house - you will develop through relationships with others and grow through the experiences you will gain. You will shine best abroad and you can meet many foreign people who will show you another side of life. This house is spiritual and also shows the meaning in life.

The sun in an air sign tends to develop a person through reason, insight, logic.

The Sun in an Earth sign tends to develop down-to-earth, practical ways.

The Sun in a water sign indicates the development, balancing and coordination of creative and emotional initiatives. They tend to develop a psychic, spiritual nature, which leads the individual deeper into the inner mind.

The Sun in a fiery sign represents development through enthusiasm, inclination and inspiration. Fire signs tend towards rapid and exciting development.

Sun in Pisces people remind me of a fairy tale.

The moon in the birth chart shows how men relate to women. It shows the imaginative side of human nature. Those born when the moon is waxing tend to be extroverted and those born when the moon is waning tend to be introverted.

Mercury refers to teaching, printing, paper, literature, mail, cars, bicycles, roads, business, commerce, goods, which means that it is always good to observe it. If mercury is afflicted, it produces insanity, drowsiness, vertigo, staggering, sleep cough, hoarseness and several nervous disorders. A person with Mercury retrograde is often very shy. If Mercury is in a sign ruled by Uranus, Saturn, Mars or Pluto, the individual will tend to act quickly.

Mercury is also related to rumors and by this you can see how noticeable the rumors are and what people are saying about you.

Mercury in a fire or air sign tends to produce healing powers because it allows the person's mind to focus strongly on the site of illness or problems. Subtract the number in which house Mercury is with the number 14 and you will get the house in which your opinions will have the most power.

Venus allows people to find common interests with others while Mars causes them to see differences. Venus also shows where you find fans. And where do you find the greatest love for people, places or things. Venus conjunct Uranus usually shows several fleeting relationships followed by separation.

Mars sociologically includes surgeons, mechanics, weapon bearers, policemen, detectives, fighters, criminals, robbers, thieves. Mars biologically symbolizes sexual organs, body heat, muscle tissue, red blood cells, bile, bladder. It also rules the head, face, left ear, burns, incisions, coffins, surgery.

The planet Mars has a lot to do with dynamic energy and lust and is considered the planet of action. It shows the need to recharge energy, complete, build, or destroy. The principle of Mars is conflict, so it is considered the planet of war.

Mars gives physical energy, stamina, drive, courage and enterprise and seems to work more positively in Aries than in Scorpio. People with a strong Mars in their chart are restless, decisive and tend to do things by themselves and for themselves. Mars shows a person's ability to lead the game and do things his way. They are often quarrelsome, rely only on their judgment, like to exaggerate their actions and emotions. People who have mono expressed Mars in their chart love freedom and do not like any interference in their lives.

Jupiter is the largest planet in our solar system. Wherever it is in the chart, there is a tendency for things to happen in a big way, in an expansive way, with optimism. If it is affected, the person's life shows exaggeration, too much trust, love for insignificant old people and contempt.

Jupiter also rules sports, hunting, athletics. It also rules love for animals, religion, marriage, philosophy. Regardless of the aspect, it is considered very lucky if Jupiter is in an angular house (first, fourth, seventh or tenth), because this saved a person from major accidents.

Jupiter in the 7th house is an indicator of multiple marriages. Jupiter in the 10th or 4th house indicates increased parenting. Jupiter in the 11th house means many friends. Jupiter in the 6th house brings expensive pets (which can be difficult to maintain). Jupiter in the 4th house indicates wealth due to inheritance.

-Rebekah⚡️🌶️🌊