#he got up and hugged me and i nearly cried

[rhysatlas]

i can’t stop smiling like an idiot bc i met garrett hedlund today BCNSNXJSJD

[sunforgrace]

he sat there on the ground and cried. for cas. cas told him he loved him was taken away and he buried his head in his hands and wept

[m-ayo-o]

-> when the jjk men fuck the tightest girly around <3 tw# reader is small, unprotected sex, size kink, "fat" cock, tummy bulge, cervix fxcking +++++ reader's 🐱 is too small for them :( no sukuna bc i do not wish death upon the reader

18+ NSFW

Toji

Most women he meets are "tight" by his standards. He's used to it. He finds himself constantly dealing with complaints; too fucking big, it won't fit. But you... you're tighter. He knows he'll have to be careful. He rests his dick on your belly and just watches you panic for a minute. He looks at your body and how your legs are folded up and the way his hand seems to cover your whole midriff where he's holding you still. Your eyes dart down to his cock, that's just so... fat. He holds it in his hand and starts teasing you with the tip, sliding up and down, pushing you open. But he's just playing with you.

When you beg him just right he starts slotting himself inside while his predatory gaze fixes on your puffy lower stomach. You wonder why he's staring there so intently until you look down to see him sinking in, followed by the unmistakable rise of your stomach. Your eyes go wide. You've never seen anything like that before. He rests his hand there to feel himself and just gives you an arrogant smirk, loving your shocked reaction.

He leans in some more and your legs start trying to squeeze shut. He just gets all frustrated and mad that he can't stuff all his cock inside in one go, but he deals with it and sinks inside as far as you'll take him. Maybe he can get a nice cock ring to hug his base next time so he can get a little attention there as well. It feels wrong, not being balls deep inside you, but he knows he would literally tear you open if he got back any further.

"I'm not all the way in. Is that seriously all you can take? Pussy's so small, come here- oh, shit, tha's really the back, huh? Ok, ok, calm down, don't fuckin' cry, baby, I'll just sit nice and snug against you here- yeah, is that your cervix? It hurts? Look, there's still inches of me left, just let me have this, let me- ngh, don't tell me not to cum inside- I'll cum where I want, pretty girl."

Kento

It's your first time 'sleeping over' at his place and he's more fucking nervous than you. You've never even seen his dick before but when you unzip him while he's grabbing at his thighs trying to contain a moan you hold and squeeze him and he barely fits.

You're using two hands on his shaft and your tongue on his tip- now you can really see what you're dealing with your mouth is starting to water. You do your best to accommodate him with your mouth first, sucking only half his cock like some massive, thick lollypop. Then when he tugs at your hair and lifts you up onto his spread legs, you feel his sticky tip poking your cute pussy and you just have to try.

He lets you go down at your own pace as your body struggles with the circumference of his shaft. But he's getting in there, slowly, and he's groaning and sighing so beautifully you just have to keep going. You have to try to take him whole, but it just stops. You let out a squeal of frustration. But, to your pleasure, he just holds your back and starts moving his hips, guiding you over his massive member.

"Mmh- mm, fuck- both hands, honey, yeah- o-oh, your mouth, ah, is that the back of your throat, already? Okay, come up here, yeah keep your legs nice and wide- hold onto my shoulders, that's it. Mm, yeah, slower, slower, d-don't rush it, hah- ah, fuck! No, no, that's it you can't go any deeper, sweetie, don't worry please don't hurt yourself. That's enough. Good girl, let me do it now."

Satoru

This kitty got claws, and god damn he's gonna sink them into the fat of your ass when he's impatiently trying to get his dick in your cute little hole. He moans and cries and nearly pulls out to throw a fucking tantrum because he can't fit, but after scolding him and telling him you don't care how many inches he can get inside you his usual bravado returns. He holds the slim curve of your waist that just looks ridiculously tiny in his big hands and he just stares at where he's sinking in and out of you, getting your cream all over him.

He grabs your hair into a ponytail now, his thumb playfully slipping over your ass while he rails you with all he can give you and he starts to feel rather smug. Although he's not getting his usual treatment- a deep fucking that has sweet pussy juices of his lucky partner coating him right from base to the very tip of his perfectly curved cock- he is starting to enjoy the fact that he's just too long.

He's joked about it, sure, turning girls down, saying stuff like, 'you won't be able to handle me anyway, princess', or 'you should fuck my friend instead, his dick isn't as big'. But he didn't realise he'd ever actually find a girl so tiny that it just wasn't physically possible. It's not as if he needed an ego boost in that department, but he starts to enjoy the idea so much that he has to get his phone out to take a few pictures (that will definitely get a lot of use). Maybe he'll show Suguru, too, just to show off a little. But he really does need to get his whole cock coated, so maybe next time he'll try your ass.

"It won't fit!! Ugh, it's not fair, how come I ended up with the cutest most pretty girl who has the smallest puss- oh! Ok, I'm sorry, jesus! Don't take it so personally I just wanted to fuck you properly... tsk- yeah, at least you're all filled up, huh? Yeah? Oh, it really does feel good? Ok, ok fine let me fuck you like this I don't care- yeah, s'not my fault my dick is so big just- ugh, get on your knees, mmh- yeah show me that ass!"

Suguru

He tries to coax you open so gently and frowns like he's done something wrong, encouraging you as if he could expand the very walls of your vagina, as if he could relocate your cervix. He spits on your clit and rubs it around with his thumb in slow circles until you cream on him one more time and he sucks his teeth from that squeezing sensation that feels so much hotter because of how small you are.

And he's so fucking determined that it's his fault, but you know it's you, so you try to explain that it's all you can take and he almost doesn't believe you until he sees you wince in pain from where he's pressed against your cervix.

He looks so shocked and mesmerised, he has to pull all the way out and get his fingers inside you to check. His fingers are long and yes, they can reach close to the back too and you let out a little yelp at the familiar feeling of being filled. Two fingers. Two long, masculine fingers is all it takes and you're squirming and writhing around. He has to pin you down and sink his cock back in with new found urgency now, telling you to pinch at his nipples if you need him to ease up.

"Baby, baby shh, I know you can take some more, just- yeah, try to relax, let me open you up- mmh- maybe you just need one more, one more- that's it. No way? I can't get any fucking deeper? I- I've never fucked a girl with such a cute pussy- no it's okay don't say sorry, you're gorgeous- so fucking tight it's making me dizzy. Uh uh, no you won't just suck me off instead I'm going to fuck you stupid just don't let me hurt you, ok?"

hcs | m.list

[p3terparker]

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

[mikrokosmoswrites]

.

[cerleansky]

My therapist was so real for saying the meaning of life is found in connection.

People hug their friends when they meet up and hug them a little tighter when it comes time to say goodbye. My grandfather rebuilt the broken rocking horse my grandmother had as a child, a gift from her father. There's an indescribable ache that goes along with seeing someone you used to know intimately, the becoming of a common stranger. Coincidences that bind, one time I got an uber and the driver used to live in my home before me. It was the last place he saw his father alive as a child and he nearly cried when I told him the walls were still the same colour.

Has anyone ever gotten over their childhood best friend? Is that alone not a testament to the fact we are more than blood and bones.

It's all about connection, friends.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 25] || [Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 27]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2k~ cw: smut, penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), gay sex (anal) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're almost THERE

Chapter 26: Smart mouth

If you thought last time you guys did this was too much, you weren’t ready for this afternoon.

Had you had all your braincells intact, you would’ve pondered HOW John would end up adding to this, if it was even possible to add an extra person…

But they weren’t intact. You were utterly fucked out, stars prickling at the corner of your eyes…

You were lying on your tummy, legs spread apart to either side of the bed, Kyle steadily snapping his hips against your ass, the sound of his cock plunging into you wet and slick echoing in the room, not even concealed by your muffled moans.

Your head was craned back, your neck straining a bit in that position to allow for Johnny’s cock to plunge deep into your mouth, muffling any of the cries of pleasuring coming from you.

It didn’t help that Johnny was not controlling himself, his cock hammering into your mouth with wild abandon.

But that must have had something to do with the fact Simon was fucking him from behind, a hand gripping Johnny around the hip, the other holding your hair to make sure he stayed buried in your mouth.

The corners of your mouth hurt, Johnny’s shaft so impossibly thick, just like the rest of him, that you couldn’t help but whine and whimper at the stretch it forced your mouth to perform.

And Kyle with his damn moans and sighs behind you, his lengthy cock plunging so deep inside you, his thighs nearly permanently glued to your ass more often than not.

“Tha’s it… Wanted to ‘ave a fucking smart mouth, did ya?” Simon taunts who you know is Johnny, but frankly he feels like he could be speaking to any of you really.

“I-I… I’m sorry L.T.!” Johnny whines, his eyes rolling back, his back pressed firmly against Simon’s chest, head lolling against the taller man’s shoulder.

“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to the pretty thing that’s got you all the way down their throat.” Simon replies, his tone bossy and authoritative.

“I-I’m sorry, bonnie… A-Ah…” Johnny got interrupted halfway as Simon’s hand bobbed your head back and forth, causing some audible sounds of you choking.

“Fuck… Looks so good…” Kyle huffed behind you, bent halfway over your body, panting right against your shoulder blade.

All he could see from that angle was your nose burrowed to Johnny’s pelvis, Simon’s hand in your hair, tears in your eyes…

Simon’s hand left your hair for a moment, allowing you to swallow the build up of saliva in your mouth and to breathe better through your nose, instead caressing Kyle’s cheek, his thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“You’re all doin’ so good f’r me…” Simon tells you, Kyle’s eyes closing at the praise, his lips parting to suck Simon’s thumb. “Good…”

Your eyes watch the entire scene, or… they would, if you weren’t already 2 orgasms in, too fucked out to think of anything at all beyond the fact this all feels too good.

-

You find yourself stirring awake by a sudden lack of warmth and groggily look around to notice Kyle leaving the warm pile of bodies on your bed, revealing your back to the cold air of the bedroom.

Grunting softly, you're shushed by a kiss on the crown of your head and an arm wrapping around you tighter, rubbing your bare back.

You’re hugging onto Simon, who has an arm around you. Kyle had been behind you this whole time, spooning you, and Johnny had been behind him.

“He's going to let John in,” Simon tells you as he keeps rubbing your back, gentle kisses pressed to the top of your head.

Johnny is sleeping soundly, just like you had been, his breathing steady, not quite a snore, but loud enough.

“John?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes.

“Yeah, he texted me about an hour ago, asking if we wanted dinner.” Simon tells you.

“Dinner?” Johnny murmurs in a half-awake state.

“Bloody ‘ell, did’ya wake up at the mention of food?’ Simon quips with a soft rumble of a laugh against your ear. It sounds like he's purring…

Johnny scoots closer, taking up the space that Kyle had been in until now, his lips beginning to press kisses to your bare shoulder.

“I'm so sore…” You murmur, lamenting how sluggish you feel, not to mention your cotton mouth.

After your session, you had all taken turns showering and Simon had made sure to get you all to drink water, but that did little to help your sorry state.

“At least ye don't have a bum knee.” Johnny quips behind you.

“And don't pull a muscle while sitting down,” Simon remarks.

“Or fuck up your back while having a one night stand.” John announces when he shows up at the bedroom door, Kyle right behind him.

Besides Simon, John’s the only one that's dressed, a pair of dark blue jeans, a white undershirt and a brown sweater on top, his hair slightly disheveled from having taken off the beanie he usually wears as a civvy.

“Hi…!” You greet him lazily.

“Hi, darling.” John replies as he approaches the bed.

He drops a kiss to Simon’s head, a peck on the lips for you, and runs a hand over Johnny’s messy mohawk.

“I see you lot had some fun, hm?” John teases before crouching by the bedside.

“‘f course we did, sir.” Johnny jokes with what you know is a sly little smirk on his lips.

“How about you lot get dressed and get some food, hm?” He quipped and ran a hand through your hair as you remained warm sandwiched between Johnny and Simon. “I brought Indian.”

“Ooh, butter chicken?!” Johnny remarks and immediately bounces up, trampling over you and Simon to get off the bed, causing you both to groan.

“I just said I'm SORE!” You scold Johnny as he starts gathering his clothes, which Kyle is also doing for himself.

“Clearly not sore enough! Guess I didn't fuck yer throat hard enough if your mouth is still yapping.” Johnny retorts, causing you to gasp.

“Johnny-” Simon replies as he slowly shifts and stands up as if already threatening him with another fucking to get the attitude out of him again.

“Tough talk for someone that had a cock up the ass 3 hours ago.” Kyle quips from beside him.

“HAUD YER YEESHT! You’re just bitter Simon didn’t fuck ye!” Johnny retorts as he nudges Kyle, the two of them picking up on their usual bickering.

“I wouldn't count that as fucking, more like putting you in your place.” Simon replies swiftly, joining Kyle in tag teaming Johnny.

“My PLACE?!” Johnny gasps.

John takes a seat in the spot Simon had been occupying, letting you curl up to him instead as the lads descend into the madness that is their usual bickering.

John’s arms pull you up onto his lap, wrapping you in a warm hug, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both gaze at the loud men in your bedroom.

“I'm sorry you have to deal with them.” He tells you playfully.

“And I'm sorry that you've been dealing with them for so long.” You retort.

You both share a glance and a chuckle.

"You know if you ever want a break from them... I've got my own place..." John suggests with narrowed eyes and a smile, puffy cheeks lightly pink.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[judasofsuburbia]

“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.

steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”

a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“eds. eds, can you hear me?”

“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”

“who’s crying?” steve asks.

“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”

more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.

“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”

“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”

“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.

“got it.”

steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.

steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.

eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.

“help me,” eddie mouths.

“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.

“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.

“give her here,” steve says.

eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.

“what’s her name?” steve asks.

“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.

“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”

she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.

“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”

“probably,” eddie mutters.

“i’m going to anyway.”

steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.

eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“

“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”

eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.

cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.

so he decides to do it scared.

the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.

“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”

cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”

cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.

“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”

cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.

“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“

cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.

it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.

steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.

“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.

eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”

“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.

“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.

“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.

“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.

they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.

“you're magical,” eddie whispers.

“please,” steve scoffs.

“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.

”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.

”do what?“

”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.

steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“

eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.

”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“

”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.

eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.

”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“

”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.

”maybe but it wasn't enough.“

”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“

eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“

steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“

”i'm getting it.“

they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.

”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.

“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.

“thank you again,” eddie whispers.

“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.

eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.

“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”

“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.

”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“

eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“

”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”

eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.

“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.

that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.

when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”

(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)

[moonstruckme]

Hii! I love your fics so much and I was wonder if you could do a emt marauders fix where the reader gets a concussion? I just got another one and it’s really taken a toll on me. (Again, I love your work SO MUCH!! It’s so comforting!!)

Hi my sweetheart! I'm so sorry, I swear I highlighted emt marauders when I was writing this request but somehow along the way I seemed to forget that it was supposed to be the au, I hope this is still alright (I'm very down to do another for emt specifically if you would like)! And I really hope you're doing okay!! Concussions are so rough, I hope your recovery is going well <3

cw: concussion

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius wakes to shushing sounds from down the hall. Bright sunlight has snuck in through the cracks in the blinds, laying itself down in slats across the bed. He’s laying nearly sideways with no one else to shove him away, one of his feet dangling off the side of the mattress and his head on the opposite pillow. 

He gets up though his body doesn’t want to, following hushed voices into the living room. The curtains are drawn closed here, too, though it’s light enough for Sirius to make you both out clearly, you sitting on the couch and Remus with your hands in his, speaking to you in a hushed voice while slow tears dribble off your chin. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice betrays his lethargy, but you don’t seem to notice. You look up with shiny eyes as he steps into the room. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” 

The answer takes time to come to you. Sirius isn’t sure if you’re searching for the words or if your thoughts are just evading you as they have been since you got hurt, but his heart twinges when your brows bunch in concentration. 

Remus only looks at you steadily. He’s been the most patient with you; Sirius and James both have the urge to guess at the ends to your sentences when you get stuck, but Remus only waits, letting you parse it out in your own time. 

“I’m sad. Frustrated,” you decide, though you look more glum than angry. You sniff. “I want to be better already.” 

Sirius nods in both understanding and sympathy, going to sit behind you on the couch. He knows Remus isn’t the most tactile, but it kills him to see you with your shoulders shaking and no arms wrapped around them. He’s quick to remedy this.

“We were playing cards,” Remus explains in his quiet way (a way Sirius has been trying to mimic to accommodate your sound sensitivity, though it doesn’t come easily to him), “and she just got a bit upset when she didn’t remember whether aces were high or low.” 

Sirius tsks, nosing at your cheek. “That’s common enough, darling. It can go either way.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus tells him. His thumbs carve twin paths up the sides of your palms. “It hardly matters, I’m happy to play with them high or low.” 

“I just wish I knew like usual,” you say, though you already seem to be calming. Your voice has taken on that distant quality again. It still sounds like you, just a tad dazed, like when you first wake up in the mornings. 

Sirius rubs up and down your shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of your chin. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable, feeling so unlike yourself. Worse to know it’s not changing soon. You hit your head a few days ago, and it’ll probably be some time until you feel completely normal again. 

Sirius has been told he can be dramatic, but when you’d fallen he honestly thought for a second that you were dead, you were so still. In the pandemonium of sirens and doctors and waiting rooms that had followed, James and Remus had each taken a bit of time to process things, get their emotions in order, but Sirius has never been able to cry in public. When they finally got to take you home, he’d gotten in the shower and cried so hard he thought he’d throw up. He’s honestly not sure if he’s ever been so terrified in his life. After you got into bed that night he’d hugged you so hard you’d called him James, and your boyfriends had all laughed before they realized you weren’t joking. 

He and Remus hold you in silence for some time. None of you seem to mind. Sirius is still too sleepy to get bored, you’re presumably too concussed, and Remus is still Remus. He can look at the two of you all day and never need a diversion. 

The room seems to come alive when James gets home, not only because of his sparkling personality but also because he lets in a bunch of sunlight and a cacophony of street noise with him. 

“Hello, my loves,” he says, adjusting his volume halfway through the sentence. He shuts the door behind him with care, dropping his rugby bag onto the floor with far less. “How are we doing?” 

“I’m doing horrible,” Sirius says, though it’s obvious he was really only asking about you. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.” 

“You have just woken up,” Remus points out with a droll look, but James indulges him. 

He sets a big hand on Sirius’ head and kisses between his own fingers. He smells like dirt and sweat, gross on anyone else but hot when it’s him. James gives you the same treatment next, palm stroking down the back of your head protectively. 

“You alright, lovie?” he murmurs. 

You hum. “Why?” 

“Nothing.” His eyes slide to Sirius, a question in them. “You look as though you might’ve had a cry, that’s all.” 

“Water under the bridge,” Sirius assures him, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’re all good now, just very hungry and in need of someone to make sandwiches for lunch. Right, baby?” 

You nod amenably, but Remus fixes you with a curious look. 

“Are you hungry, dove?” he asks. 

You take some time to mull this over. Sirius bites the inside of his lip to restrain himself, and he can see James doing the same to his cheek. It’s a good thing that you’re taking such a thorough inventory of yourself, he supposes, but it’s agonizing to watch how much effort it takes you. After a while, you say, “I think so.” 

Remus nods. “Alright. We had a snack a bit ago, but if you’re hungry you should eat. I can make sandwiches,” he shoots Sirius a teasing look as he starts to stand, “since I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of those who’ve just got home from training.” 

“No, sit.” James urges Remus back down with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I’ve got it, I’m on an adrenaline roll right now anyway. Egg and cress all around?” 

“Yes, please,” Remus says. You echo a moment later. 

Sirius can’t seem to detach himself from you, which isn’t unusual but has been worse since your injury. He dots kisses along the edge of your jaw to amuse himself. 

“Are you feeling tired?” Remus asks you. “You haven’t had a nap yet today.” 

Sirius waits for the inevitable joke about your nursing home schedule, but it doesn’t come. You must not be feeling up to it. 

You shrug, mumbling, “I’m okay.” 

“Have a nap with me after lunch,” Sirius says. “I’m knackered, and I could use a cuddle buddy.” 

You make a confused humming sound. “Were you just asleep?” 

“I was,” he admits readily. “And it’ll be even better the second time around, with you there.” 

[knickynoo]

I am once again pondering the fact that Marty McFly is just such a fantastic character. Like, especially when you look at other male protagonists in the 80s, they all follow a similar trend. A lot are uber cool and suave, with the added side effect of also being a jerk. Many are popular jocks or whatever. Big flirts. Edgy and troubled or sleazy, etc.

And Marty is sort of in his own category entirely. He's cool, but he's not? He skateboards and kills it on guitar but has 2 whole friends--his girlfriend and a disgraced scientist--and crippling self-doubt and can't go a day without falling down or tripping over his own feet or nearly being killed by a car.

He's polite. He's respectful. Won't let anyone mess with the people he loves and doesn't let a moment pass by where he can thank somebody or apologize for a wrongdoing. (seriously, Marty has beautiful manners. Like, it is quite noticeable how often he says, "please," "thank you," "excuse me," or "sorry".)

His emotions are all SO BIG and he doesn't hold back on them. He gets all animated when he's excited and yells when he's scared and cries when he's sad and pulls his friend into big ol' hugs.

He literally never knows what is going on. Marty exists in the constant state of confusion. Between asking Doc to "wait a minute" every other sentence and his ever-changing, scattered thoughts, Marty is just out there trying to survive. Just slow it down, alright? He's a smart guy, but he's also got elevator music playing in his head. Really really fast elevator music.

Time means nothing to him. His watch is broken. He's racking up tardies like it's nobody's business. Stopping by the garage to look for Doc and play some guitar when he should be at school. He's got to get out of that stupid suit RIGHT THIS INSTANT even though he's got one shot at the lightning strike at the clock tower.

Marty just. Does things. There is zero impulse control. A synapse fires and Marty's brain goes "!!!" and that's that. Punch the bully who's twice your size, buy that sports almanac, just Walk Away while Doc is talking to you. Buy that sweet leather jacket. Ignore ALL instructions you're given! Marty, you need constant supervision and I love you for that.

He's just. Marty is the most character. Look at him.

They really knocked it out of the park with this guy.

[arminsumi]

Hey! Could I request a soft fluffy Gojo where he finds out reader is pregnant and he’s over the moon excited and can barely contain himself? Seeing the Gojo crumbs got me feeling all soft for him.

PREGNANT

★ Note : ah i savored the gojo crumbs!! 🥹💗 missing that pineapple head sm.

★ Warnings : some suggestive jokes

"Sooo... I bought you a pregnancy test."

You laugh at him like he's being ridiculous, like this is a total over-reaction to you having just one instance of morning nausea that didn't even last very long.

Satoru has some weird sixth sense when it comes to you. If you're not feeling well, he knows it before you even say anything. Like this morning, when you sat up in bed in a strange way, he blinked awake and mumbled "Baby, what is it?" knowing in his chest you must feel sick. And sure enough, you were sick.

Albeit not for long — Satoru still soothed your back with his hands and gave you a thorough massage until the nausea went away.

He joked, "Are you pregnant?" while he massaged you. But that weird sixth sense told him that you were really pregnant.

After your nausea subsided, he went out to buy you every necessity he could think of. You know, pads and tampons of all sizes because he has no idea which one you actually prefer and he also has no idea why there are so many variations. So he dumped a pile of period necessities on your desk and you laughed at how he did it.

Then he unexpectedly whipped out a pregnancy test package and tapped you lightly on the shoulder with it.

"Satoru, I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant."

"But I feel like you are." he replies suspiciously. "I mean look at you... you're glowin' like a goddess. C'mon, just take the test."

"Okay, fine — but I'm telling you, I don't feel pregnant."

You took the pregnancy test and rolled your eyes while waiting. Satoru waited outside the bathroom like an excited puppy and nearly pawed at the door to be let in, but you absolutely refused to let him watch you pee on the pregnancy test.

So he spoke through the bathroom door;

"Sooo are you pregnant or do I have to take you back to the bedroom and make your eyes roll back again?"

You laughed.

"Satoru, you don't need to take me back to the bedroom for me to roll my eyes at you."

You stared down at the pregnancy test.

| |

Oh.

You opened the door of the bathroom.

When you hand him the positive test, Satoru blanks. Then his eyes light up like you've never seen them light up before.

His jaw slacks and he doesn't have any words.

You think he's frozen in place but then suddenly he reanimates himself and attacks you with kisses.

"Babyyy!" his voice cracks with excitement.

He levels his face with your tummy and hugs it, then speaks to it;

"Hey, kid. You better have your mommy's eyes."

"Satoru, you're ridiculous." you chuckle.

Satoru keeps kissing your tummy, nuzzling and hugging it. He cries a little after the initial excitement calms down. In fact he sobs. He clings to your stomach, arms wrapped tightly around it. All his attention is plastered on you and your tummy.

He calls Suguru and Shoko and Nanami in a video call and judging by the tone of his texts (VIDEO CALL NOW. IMMINENT.) they assume something dire has happened.

And then Satoru just says;

"We're pregnant."

"We?!"

Suguru hears you yell through the phone and laughs.

Nanami sighs, "Satoru, I thought something bad happened, you idiot. Congratulations."

"Mhm!" Satoru ignores Nanami's scolding and absorbs the 'congratulations' like a proud to-be father.

"I'm gonna be a dad." he keeps saying this over and over until it even gets on your nerves, so you pop into the video call to shut up your stupid husband which makes the others howl with laughter. Satoru just happily lets you shut him up, he knows he's being an obnoxious idiot. He can't help it, he's over-excited.

He is so smug about it. But underlining that smugness you see pure excitement, real true joy that Satoru can't fully express except through subtle things.

He koala-hugs his arms around your tummy and clings to you.

On the video call, everyone sees how Satoru looks at you; he has that lovey-dovey euphoric smile stuck on his face.

"Satoru, you're glowing. Are you pregnant, too?" Shoko jokes.

— ★

Later that night, Satoru rests his head on your stomach while the two of you are laid in bed.

The initial goofiness and excitement has calmed down, and he's gone silent like he's brooding.

"Do you think I'll be a good dad?" he asks seriously. He experiences a small voice crack.

Waiting for your answer makes him nervous. He fiddles with the hem of your pajamas.

"Satoru, you're going to be the best dad." you respond.

His lips curl and he begins smiling to himself and cuddling your tummy more. It's one of those rare smiles that he feels too shy to show you. Reminds you of how he used to smile at you when you flustered him in college, when he was a love sick puppy for you.

Of course, he breaks the moment with a stupid joke; "I think you moaning "daddy! daddy!" worked magic."

"Satoru!" you have to scoldingly smack him on the head with your book.

He just giggles cheekily and crawls up to snuggle your chest.

— ★

For the following week, you catch Satoru scrolling through lists of online baby names, and beaming to his students that he's gonna be a dad. Boasting as much as he possibly can to every available ear.

When he tells anyone about you being pregnant, he phrases it very carefully; "She's going to be the mother of my children." he says proudly, chin lifted a bit, smug smirk on his face that even you want to slap off.

Yeah he's so smug and annoying. Anyways, he cries when he stares at the ultrasound.

He keeps it in his wallet. He shows it to everyone. He looks at it while he's in his office at Jujutsu High.

Seeing your tummy get rounder and fuller turns Satoru into a softer man.

— ★

Satoru always greets your tummy like the baby can hear him. He talks to it every night as if he's helping Littler Gojo fall asleep, but actually his voice is putting you to sleep.

He comes up to you, cooing carefully in case you're having a mood swing, and squishes his cheek to your tummy.

And when you come out of the bedroom in the mornings looking your roughest, Satoru smiles wide and says without fail every time;

"Oh there's my mama goddess, how'd you sleep with Little Gojo's kung fu last night?"

When the baby kicks, he's always got some funny response;

"Hey, I'm the Strongest, kid."

"Don't kick. Be nice to mommy's tummy."

"Damn, this kid's trynna beat up his dad's pretty face!"

"Wow, you're gonna be a martial artist I just know it."

In fact, talking to your tummy is something Satoru loves the most.

When he gets home from a tiring day at work, he kisses you hard and then lowers himself onto his knees and greets your tummy.

"Hey kid, how's it going in there? Gettin' stronger? Good. Good. Hey I heard that! Don't talk back to me. Gosh, you're already gettin' rebellious."

"Satoru... what are you doing?"

"Talking to our baby." he replies innocently. "She's very intelligent. Just like her mommy."

"Oh is that so? I like that. She'll be as smart as mommy and as strong as daddy."

His cheeks go a bit pink.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[deer-knight]

six weeks post top surgery - i went for a run for the first time in 4 years. 

i used to run nearly every day. from around middle school to the middle of my time at uni i ran almost daily. i rarely missed it. i ran on roads, trails, the track, and almost always with my dog. he’s gone now, but he was my favorite running and adventuring company.

as my dysphoria worsened, running got harder. it brought me too close to my body. made me too aware. i couldn’t bear to do this thing i loved so much. at some point, i stopped running altogether. i found other ways to be active, but i just couldn’t run.

i ran today. not very far, and with a pause to cry and celebrate and catch my breath, but i ran. my body isn’t a cage anymore. i feel at home here now. i belong here.

i ran to the woods, and followed a trail that leads to a gorgeous overlook. i stopped there and i looked out at the mountains and the golden autumn sunlight on leaves, and i hugged myself and i cried and expressed my gratitude to the wind and the trees. i was always meant to be this way.

i wore a tshirt and cargo shorts and sunflower socks with the sneakers i hadn’t worn in 4 years. i used to have a small supply of running clothes. i’m not sure where they went, but this will do for now.

trans joy is important. it is essential. don’t give up on it. please. it’s worth it.      

[thegnomelord]

I wonder what’s the aftermath of the gaz baby trapping fic?? 🤔🤭

Okay this got me into another hyperfixation so here's a super quick thing. NSFW, MDNI FTM Gaz/ cis male reader

One line.

Gaz's fingers shake as he stares at the pregnancy test in his white knuckled grip. Acrid disappointment burns at the back of his throat, sharp tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he lets out of a long breath. He shakes his head and tosses the damned test into the bin, trying not to think of it as he washes his hands.

He tries to make sure he doesn't look like it bothers him, but you're perceptive, "What's wrong?" falling from your lips the moment you see him, and shit, if that doesn't warm his heart.

"Nothing love." He eases your worries as he gets into bed in record time, huddling up next to you and feeling your arms wrap around him. "Just a bit under the weather. Rookie duty." You make a sound of understanding and pull him closer, laying gentle kisses on his lips and cheeks and anywhere you can reach until he's giggling against your lips.

"Good night." You mutter once you're satisfied and think you've lifted his mood. He stays awake after you've fallen asleep, simply staring at your slumbering face, your warmth seeping into his marrow.

He'd been so sure it would take, he'd ridden you until you were shooting blanks. But at the back of his mind he had thought this could happen, understand he had been sloppy, his chances lessened by you being injured and him having freshly come off the infertility drugs.

So he takes his time to do it with precision this time: Carefully timing his cycles and using fertility drugs, eating the foods old wives tales claim will boost the chances of him getting pregnant.

So he's confident when he seduces you into sex again on the one evening both of you are free; not that it takes much — simply meeting your gaze across the meeting room and licking his lips has your attention fully on him, a small nod of his head all it taking to have you follow after him.

His fingers claw into your back from how tightly he clutches you, heels digging into your flanks and hips gyrating to meet your thrusts as you pound into him. He's so loud you're sure you'll get complaints come morning, but right now you couldn't care less except to hear more of his moans and whimpers and cries as you fuck another load into him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes- oh love more!" He tries, sweet cunt clenching sinfully tight around you, drops of your cum leaking past your cock as his hole flutters around you. The position you have him in, legs over your shoulders and bent nearly in half, has your cock going to deep he swears you hit his diaphragm with every thrust, your heavy balls slapping against his ass.

He's happy he'd slipped you that aphrodisiac as you just continue to fuck him all night long, pumping his hole full of cum again and again until by the end of it he looks pregnant, both of you exhausted as hell and unable to do much other than fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You don't think nothing of it, just glad to be alive to be able to enjoy his love and affection. That is until you find him crying in the bathroom, and you hug him before you can think of anything else, just trying to comfort him and understand why he's sad, only for him to silently hand you a small white stick, burying his head into your neck to silence his sobs.

And you don't notice him smirking against your throat as you stare at the two lines on the pregnancy test.

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

[strawberrysainz]

racing in the street. charles leclerc.

“ it’s a dream that has surpassed many others in both of your lives. to win the monaco grand prix - it had evaded him for many years. this year felt different. ”

charles leclerc x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, suggestive themes.

this is a love letter to his win - years and years in the making. ❤️‍🔥

The first time you had known Charles would win in Monaco one day was when you were both seven, in the back of his dad’s car on the way to a friend’s party.

You had passed Mirabeau, and Charles had pointed out the red and white on the ground as you whizzed past.

“One day if I get to-“

“When,” his father had corrected from the front, and Charles had rolled his eyes playfully.

“-when I get to Formula 1, this is going to be very cool to pass by,”

You had nodded briefly - a seven year old’s attention span could only focus on something abstract for so long - and you had paused. “You can win it, right Cha?”

He had shrugged modestly. It was terribly annoying how modest he had been, even back then.

“You can. You win everything you want to win.” You were certain of this, even so many years ago.

Hervé had laughed loudly and you had blushed crimson.

Charles had smiled then, looking out the window, eyes shining with the hope of it all. The look in his eyes had startled you, one of wisdom only an adult could have.

One day in 2017 Lorenzo called you and Charles had staggered out of the hotel bathroom, face white. He had sat there next to you on the bed.

“I lied.”

“What?”

“I told him a few weeks ago I got to F1. So he would be happy knowing I achieved our dream. And I haven’t.”

Tears burned in your eyes.

He had fallen into your embrace, sobs shaking his whole body.

Standing on the top step in Baku three days later, you had stood there below him, crying, his mother on the phone.

You were eating sushi you’d ordered in at his place a few months later, and he’d had a sneakily happy look on his face the whole day.

“What’s up with you?” You’d said with a mouth full of california roll.

“Sauber is giving me a seat for next year.”

You’d broken a glass jumping up and soy sauce had stained both of your shirts as you screamed.

That first Monaco race day in 2018 had been a magical affair, up until the sixth-last lap, when his brakes had failed, spinning him into Brendan Hartley as they approached the Nouvelle Chicane.

You had winced in the garage, and he’d been dejected when he approached you a few hours afterward.

You’d thought of that day passing Mirabeau when you saw him. “Was it as cool as you thought doing it in F1?” You’d said quietly.

Tears had shone in his eyes. “I got to race it. Dad knew I could race it in F1.”

You had nearly choked months later when he’d told you over a glass of wine dipping your toes in the sea that he’d been called by Ferrari.

Shivers had run through you as you thought of Jules, and of Hervé. All they all had ever wanted.

“You know, your dad would have not been prouder. He would have dragged you to Rampoldi to celebrate.”

“Shall we go?” He had asked, and you’d both made the trip back to Monte-Carlo and when you phoned the restaurant in the back of the Uber, they’d said it was full with a little bit of regret.

But when they’d heard Charles was going to be there - oh, they’d all loved him from the beginning - they’d gotten a table for you both near closing time, when everyone was dispersing.

You’d both laughed and cried over the plates of his dad’s favourite ravioli.

Monaco had felt different in 2019, more eyes on him.

He’d started P15. Then on lap 16 - the irony - his puncture due to contact had called him back to the garage.

Pure grief had decorated his face as he got out of the car, shaking his head. Finding you after the Grand Prix, you saw the light dimming from his eyes and gave him the biggest hug you could.

That night you’d both cycled back to his place and sat all night in his kitchen, the dim light doing little to hide his sadness.

2021 was even worse; he’d had no chance to even start, and this time he was angry.

You hadn’t even seen him and had gone to bed when he called up at 2am, drunk, asking for a lift home.

You had gone in your pajama shorts and glasses, and he had sat in the back seat and asked why he always had worser luck here than anywhere else.

You didn’t really have an answer. “I just know one day it’s going to work out for you,” you said softly.

2022 had been spent in his friend’s apartment, watching from their balcony with a cocktail in hand, watching his girlfriend smile on the television.

You’d watched on as disaster had struck, Ferrari making an awful call, sacrificing his P1 for a measly P4.

You’d seen him two days later, out for breakfast, and he had just sighed. “Fucking stupid,” he’d murmured. “I think we have to accept I might never get this.”

That belief of your seven year old self was still strong, cemented in your soul when you shook your head.

In 2023, he’d just been annoyed at sixth place once he came back from the stewards. You’d left the paddock and he’d just gone home, bidding you a good night. As you walked to your apartment, you’d thought of all the nights as teenagers racing on bicycles in the streets.

Monaco would love him back as much as he did it one day. You knew it - deep down, he knew it too.

Well, Saturday in Monaco this year had felt different. He’d oozed confidence all weekend. And you felt different about him.

After he’d broken up with his girlfriend, all you’d been thinking about was him. He had been making unnecessary trips to see you, inviting you to more races than usual.

It had culminated a few months ago in Miami, where things were just different; he had come on the podium, and you had kissed his cheek when you saw him an hour later. You swore he almost moved his face to meet your lips.

You’d both spent the night partying with Lando, the drinks making you both different, dancing sensually, eyes dark. He had kissed your neck, and you’d both realised what the hell you were doing, moving back.

The next time you saw him you both pretended it had never happened.

You hadn’t seen him again until last Sunday, at your place. He’d come for your birthday dinner, handing you a present and flowers with two kisses to your cheeks. You’d blushed amongst all your friends, champagne flowing.

On Wednesday night after a long day of press, he’d come over again. “I have a feeling about the race this year.” You nodded, silently inviting him to expand.

“It feels different. Like I can definitely do it.”

You smiled. “I know you can do it. And you’ve been really strong this year.”

“I was cycling last month through Mirabeau and I really remembered one day when we were walking around there or driving when we were young and you told me you knew I could win.”

“It was when we were driving with your dad.” He’d let out a little sigh.

“I can do it this year for him. And me and Jules and you.”

You’d gotten emotional all of sudden. “I know you can do it, Cha. I’ve always known.”

He hugged you, his body soft and warm against yours in the dark room. You’d wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Well, he’d got on pole on Saturday, reinforcing his determination and confidence. You’d seen how calm and collected he looked and it had been noticed by nearly everyone. You’d given him a fist bump and he’d grabbed you, hugging you, the smell of his sweat a testament to how badly he wanted it.

You’d gone home after a dinner with the Leclercs (minus him, he had sponsorship engagements to fulfill) and there was the quiet knowledge amongst all of them that this was the year.

Your mom had phoned on Sunday morning, and you spoke about your lives, then about Charles. “I hope he knows how loved he is by all of us. And I know Hervé and Jules are watching on today with the utmost pride.”

You nodded. “I think he does know, mama.”

You had picked out a red dress, short and flowing to accommodate the welcome heat. As you did your makeup, you thought of all the years that had come before, previous versions of yourself that had wanted him so badly to win.

The entire race you’d had stubborn tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. The last two laps you could barely look, too emotional at the thought of even seeing this happen.

Joris had gently guided you up to look again in the room and you just knew Charles was crying too on that last lap. The thought of the little boy in the car staring out at these streets made you wonder how he must be feeling.

All these years of this dream.

He had crossed the finish line and you had erupted into tears, turning into Lorenzo’s chest to take a breath. Later, you’d seen the camera footage of your teary eyes and the glimmer of hope in them as you looked back.

Then everyone had run down to the podium and you were in the second row, all of his team in the front. You saw him jump in slow motion into the air from his car and saw the joy in his steps.

He had jumped into the roar, and didn’t manage to see you but you could tell he was looking. Then he’d done the post race interview and him talking about his dad made you burst out crying again.

Someone had found you and dragged you to the front of the barrier underneath the podium. You must have looked awful. As he walked to the cool down room he cast a look back and your eyes caught his for a fraction of a second before he disappeared.

You had used the five minutes to take big deep breaths, multiple hands grasping you.

Then he’d walked out onto the podium and you saw how Prince Albert had gripped him like a son, tears in his own eyes. And Charles had held up his flag, full of hopes and dreams.

And then you all sang the anthems and then he was given the trophy and you were taking videos and photos as if in a dream.

He’d not seen you again, scanning, but gave up when the attentions of everyone else were cast on him.

You hadn’t caught sight of him again until you were hanging around in the paddock, wondering. Your phone rang and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?”

He was breathless and you couldn’t hear him, really, over the sound of the wind.

“Wh-“

“I’m cycling home…”

You had snorted. “Alone?”

“Yeah.”

You had paused.

“I wanted to just think of all the years and moments I raced and rode these streets and prayed I would win here one day. It felt right.”

You had laughed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah… meet me at home? Then we go out?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He ended the call. You saw videos of him on TikTok later on the bike on speakerphone and he had grinned as the people drove past him.

You had stopped at your place first, freshening up, and grabbed a bag and a power bank and downed a shot of vodka (to ease the nerves). Putting on heels with the red dress this time, you ordered an Uber to his place. You had used your key to get in and music was blaring when you opened the door. He was shirtless, trying to find an appropriate one.

“Hi,” you smiled.

He had forgotten what he was doing to basically run over and hug you, the force of it nearly knocking you over.

You were in tears again when he pulled away. “Love you,” you whispered, and he smiled. “I’m so proud. I keep thinking of little you.”

“I could never be here without you throughout the years. Never. You have picked me up and glued me back together so many times.”

You let out a small sound of emotion.

“I thought so much of all of you the last laps. I couldn’t see I was so emotional.” He laughed.

“And just all the times you told me you just knew I could do it. And my dad. And Jules. And my mom and brothers. Oh, I want to cry even now!”

You laughed as he ran back to his room to get a shirt.

“But-” he called from the room- “now we have to party like crazy!”

The next morning, you woke up at Arthur’s apartment with a pounding headache and a few missed calls and texts.

Charles 🕺 4:37

Let me know if you got back okay?

Charles 🕺 5:13

I think I’m going home now

Charles 🕺 10:52

I’m going to come pick you up I think Arthur won’t wake until 3pm

You checked the time. 11:04. Getting up from the couch and groaning, you went to the bathroom and pulled your hair into a ponytail, trying to wipe the makeup and finding a disposable toothbrush in his drawer to brush your teeth and the stale smell of tequila away.

You heard his car horn outside and you pulled on your heels that had been thrown on the ground a few meters from the couch. Leaving and letting the door close quietly you walked down the stairs, wincing at every loud noise your high heels made.

He was in his car and thank God there was no one around because you looked crazy. “Hiii,” you said, and he handed you a pair of sunglasses you thought you lost (but clearly just left in his car).

“How’s the race winner doing?” You said, and slid into the seat.

“Incredible,” he said dramatically and his voice was raspy, nearly gone. You laughed and then grasped your head.

Coming out of your bedroom with your hair wrapped in a towel and a crop top and sweatpants, he was making coffee for you both. Finding leftover pasta from Saturday night that Pascale had sent you home with, you heated it up and offered him some. He shook his head.

When you turned around from the microwave with the pasta in hand, he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. He set down the pasta, not breaking the kiss, and hoisted you onto the kitchen counter. You let him open you up, your body leaning into his. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hand rested underneath your shirt.

“You make me feel so lucky,” he whispered.

Your mouth fell open slightly. “Well, you deserve all of it.”

He did. He did.

omg i just started crying over this stupid fic for the third time. i feel like this encompasses all i feel for him. i hope you feel it. ❤️‍🔥

[russellsppttemplates]

More Dad!Lando, please! How about a colicky Fraiser, a frazzled yn and dad Lando to rh rescue?

Cw: mentions baby's colic, postpartum recovery from c-section

"It's okay, my love, you're okay, mummy is right here", you cooed as you changed Fraser's nappy, "nearly done and then you can feel better hopefully", you sighed, finishing it and rubbing the baby's tummy like you remembered the nurses teaching you how to do in the hospital.

You weren't even sure what time it was, having decided against staying in your bedroom and moving to the nursery so Lando could rest. Even though Fraser slept with you and not in the nursery, you still had all the furniture in there for once you made the transition and right now it was proving to be useful, even if it didn't have a clock anywhere in sight and the lack of sleep was catching up to you.

"I know it hurts, I'm sorry, my love, mummy's doing the best she can - good, good, let all of that wind out", you smiled a little before he started crying again, "Oh, baby, let's have a cuddle", you lowered your top, letting him feel your skin on his after you unbuttoned the top of his babygrow.

The cold bed next to Lando let him know you hadn't been in the bedroom for quite some time, making him stand up and look for you, heading to the nursery since Fraser wasn't in his cot either. The sight before him pulled on his heartstrings. First, because his wife and snuggling your baby, another little one you were blessed enough to bring to the world, and even if you didn't believe it sometimes, the way you looked mothering his children was his favourite - you were the best mummy for them. Second, however, it pulled on his heartstrings because it was noticeable how much it was taking a toll on you. You still looked beautiful - that would never be a question - but he couldn't help but notice the dropped shoulders, the way your movements were still slow and needing you to think before moving a certain way so it wouldn't hurt, and how frazzled you looked.

"Hey, you two", Lando cooed, getting your attention as you bounced the baby around, "would you like daddy's help?", he mused.

Your nod was all he needed to scoop the baby boy and settle him in your chest, rubbing his back as he seemed to nestle into his father's naked chest, "you're not a happy little guy, are you? Is your tummy giving you trouble, Fraser?", Lando cooed as the cries didn't quite settle.

"He was fussing so much and I didn't want to wake you, so we moved here", you explained the reason why you didn't stay in the bedroom as usual.

"You should've woken me up, love, but it's okay, I'm here now", Lando smiled, kissing your forehead softly, "maybe some massages will help? You can lay on mummy and daddy can rub your tummy", he suggested.

"I did them for a bit, but he looked like he needed some comforting too", you mumbled.

You sat on the big chair, shuffling the pillows to make yourself comfortable before Lando set Fraser on your torso, his head nestled over your boobs as his father undid the rest of his babygrow, his fingers starting to massage his belly and slowly working all that was bothering him out, "you like being in mummy's chest, don't you?", Lando smiled, "daddy likes it too, but you've all but stolen it from me these days - it's okay though", he attempted to break a smile on your tired features.

Soon enough, Fraser settled down, falling asleep on Lando's chest once he got him back to snuggle into it, swaying from side so side was you did the same, sandwiching you son between you per your husband's request, "no one is alone in this, darling", he said as he pulled you to hug his waist.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[rafecameroninterlude]

i found your blog today and i’m so obsessed, i love it smmm! i was wondering if you could do a oneshot where reader finds out she’s pregnant and rafe is so sweet and supportive abt it. like he immediately starts treating her like she’s fragile to the touch and spoils her rotten :(((

- also idk if you do emoji anons but if you do, can i please be 🍓??

warnings: soft!rafe, unprotected sex, pregnancy

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, baby,” rafe groaned, about to pull out so he could finish on your tummy instead. “no, no, please cum inside me rafe!” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist so he couldn’t move. “shit- are you sure?” a groan fell from his lips, his hips stuttering as he continued thrusting into you. he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes as you nodded frantically. “yes, i’m sure. fill me up!” your words pushed him over the edge, both of you moaning in unison as he emptied himself inside of you

now, nearly a month later, here you were staring down at two pink lines. you chewed your lip nervously, taking a second test to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. sure enough, the pink lines showed up darker than the first ones. “i’m so pregnant.” you whispered to yourself, a smile forming on your lips as you used a pillow to muffle your scream. “no way!” you squealed, freezing once you realized you needed to tell rafe. “oh, fuck..” you glanced at the time on your phone, 4:30 PM. only thirty minutes left until he got home.

you rushed back into the bathroom, grabbing the tests and hiding them in the drawer. your mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to figure out how you’d break the news. you changed out of your clothes and into rafe’s favorite summer dress, quickly freshening up your hair. by the time rafe walked through the door, you were buzzing with excitement, fiddling with the ring on your finger. “hey, baby.” he pulled you into a hug, his arms swallowing whole. “how was that meeting with your dad?” you let him carry you to the couch, both of you sinking into the cushions with a sigh.

“good, real good,” he nodded. “it was funny, we met up with this family and they had these kids running around. ‘was real cute.” rafe smiled. “that was all my dad talked about on the way home, ‘said he needed to be a grandpa already.” he shook his head. you couldn’t help but gaze up at him. “what do you think about that? having kids?” rafe looked down at you, his eyes growing soft as he traced the curve of your lips. “oh, man. when that time comes, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’d be the most amazing mother to our babies.” he kissed your knuckles.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, rafe immediately pulling you against his chest. “what’s wrong, love? was it something i said?” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “no, it’s just.. i feel like i really needed to hear that.” you smiled, rubbing his chest. “you needed to hear me say that you’d be a great mother to our babies?” rafe sounded slightly confused, making you stand up. “stay here, i’m gonna get something.” your heart beat in your ears the whole way up and down the stairs, your hands shaking as you showed him the positive pregnancy tests.

he stared for a moment, slowly taking them from you. rafe was silent for a long time, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked up at you. “oh, my god.” he stood up, hands reaching out touch you as if you weren’t real. “oh, my god, baby..” he lowered himself on his knees, lining his head up with your stomach. he wrapped his arms around you, clutching the hem of your dress as he cried into your skin. “are you happy?” you squeaked out, running your fingers through his buzzed hair. “are you kidding me? this is the best day of my life.” he sniffled. picking you up bridal style, and carrying you upstairs.

“i’ve wanted this for a very long time.” he kissed you, laying you down ever so gently. “we’re going shopping first thing tomorrow,” he kicked off his shoes, “what’s that app you’re always on? picnic? painter?” you laughed. “pinterest, rafe.” he nodded, “yeah that,” he settled in next to you, draping an arm across your torso. “we’ll start looking for inspiration for the nursery, oh! and we should probably tell our families once we’re in the safe zone, just to make sure everything’s alright..” you sighed, tracing shapes into his skin as you shut your eyes momentarily. “thank you for being so sweet about all of this.” rafe rested his head in the crook of your neck, “of course.”