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#by curly kid life
chanstopher ยท 1 year
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Bang Chan being Beautiful ๐Ÿ’˜ (43/โˆž)
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br1ghtestlight ยท 28 days
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had a dream that I had a younger brother (or nephew??) who was like four years old and when we were going to bed after the events of the dream I remember giving him a kiss and whispering that I loved him โ˜น๏ธ
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cryptid-killjoy ยท 6 months
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post two: Laveaus Aging - Yeah. My babies be growing
Bastien: Tell me about it
Chip: Feelz
Raya: Don't I know it
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goobiestar ยท 1 year
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Anyways who has coconut oil they can spare my hair is DYING it needs HELP
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owlrolls ยท 6 months
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Hate how it took me my entire lifespan until rn to realize i have curly hair and not overly frizzy wavy hair
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mini-yoongers ยท 1 year
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seo changbin perfect husband say it with me
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valpalgalpal ยท 10 months
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okay okay I'm all but committed to cutting my hair pretty short again SO
should I fuck with it for fun on the way down to having short hair or just chop it
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raiiny-bay ยท 1 year
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i fixed the hair btw
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sakuramoussy ยท 1 year
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So what happened to his family? Is it possible that at least one of his parents still lives to this day, unaware of Luisโ€™ presence and aching to know the truth?
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autumnalfallingleaves ยท 2 years
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If Antimony were to watch The Owl House, I could actually see her tearing up a bit with the whole Amity Blight storyline, due to her relating what with her parental issues. Now that I think about it, Annie has next to no experience with a lot of modern pop culture, so I wonder what sort of movies & TV shows sheโ€™d enjoy.
God yeah
Annie would probably relate real hard to Amity, what with the "special kid learning how to be an actual teenager and learning that her parents aren't great people" plotline. She'd maybe have a soft spot for Alador, especially in light of the most recent ep, because that's what she wants to happen with her own father. Luz would probably also remind her of Kat, so I can see Amity and Luz being her favorites.
I feel like Annie would like stuff like true crime but also some anime that Kat introduces her to? Also cartoons like TOH, Steven Universe, and maybe Amphibia. I feel like she'd also really like podcasts.
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bryonyashaw ยท 5 months
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๐–๐ž ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐ ๐ง๐š๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ž. ๐–๐ž ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐ ๐ฆ๐š๐ ๐ข๐œ. ๐–๐ž ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐ ๐š๐๐ฏ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ž. ๐–๐ž ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐ ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐ž๐ž๐๐จ๐ฆ.ย  ๐–๐ž ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ง๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ. ๐˜๐ž๐ฌ, ๐ค๐ข๐๐ฌ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐ญ๐ž๐œ๐ก๐ง๐จ๐ฅ๐จ๐ ๐ฒ ๐›๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐‹๐ž๐ ๐จ๐ฌ, ๐ฌ๐œ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ž๐ ๐ฆ๐š๐ซ๐ค๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ, ๐ก๐š๐ง๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐š๐ง๐๐ฌ, ๐›๐จ๐จ๐ค๐ฌ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ ๐ฉ๐ฎ๐๐๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌ. ๐ˆ๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐š๐›๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐›๐š๐ฅ๐š๐ง๐œ๐ž.
๐Š๐ง๐จ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ž๐๐ ๐ž ๐ž๐ฆ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ฉ๐ž๐จ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ž ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฅ ๐ญ๐จ๐จ๐ฅ: ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐š๐›๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ค ๐š๐ง๐ ๐๐ž๐œ๐ข๐๐ž. ๐Š๐ž๐ž๐ฉ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐œ๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ž๐ง ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ - ๐๐จ๐ง'๐ญ ๐ฆ๐š๐ค๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ฆ ๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ฉ ๐ญ๐จ๐จ ๐Ÿ๐š๐ฌ๐ญ. ๐‹๐ž๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ฆ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ž๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ข๐ซ ๐๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ง๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ž ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ข๐ซ ๐ข๐ฆ๐š๐ ๐ข๐ง๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง. ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐š๐ซ๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐œ๐ก๐š๐ง๐ ๐ž! ๐“๐ก๐จ๐ฌ๐ž ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ ๐œ๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ž๐ง ๐๐š๐ฒ๐๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ง๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ž ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฐ ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐จ ๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ž๐ ๐š๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ๐ฌ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐๐ฌ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ ๐œ๐š๐ฉ๐š๐›๐ฅ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐œ๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐š ๐›๐ž๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ ๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ž.
๐‚๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ž๐ง ๐ง๐š๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐ž ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ง๐ญ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ง๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ ๐›๐ž ๐ฐ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ข๐ญ ๐ข๐ฌ; ๐ฆ๐š๐ ๐ข๐œ๐š๐ฅ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐›๐ž๐š๐ฎ๐ญ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ง ๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ.
๐‘๐š๐ฅ๐ฉ๐ก ๐–๐š๐ฅ๐๐จ ๐„๐ฆ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐จ๐ง ๐จ๐ง๐œ๐ž ๐ฌ๐š๐ข๐, โ€œ๐Œ๐š๐ง๐ฒ ๐ž๐ฒ๐ž๐ฌ ๐ ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐ž๐š๐๐จ๐ฐ, ๐›๐ฎ๐ญ ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ฐ ๐ฌ๐ž๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐Ÿ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง ๐ข๐ญ.โ€ ๐ˆ๐ญโ€™๐ฌ ๐ž๐š๐ฌ๐ฒ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ ๐ž๐ญ ๐œ๐š๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ฎ๐ฉ ๐ข๐ง ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ง๐จ๐ข๐ฌ๐ž ๐š๐ง๐ ๐œ๐ก๐š๐จ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ฌ ๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐๐š๐ข๐ฅ๐ฒ - ๐ฐ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ๐ญ๐ž๐ง ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐ž๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐จ๐ฉ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐š๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ซ๐ž๐œ๐ข๐š๐ญ๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐›๐ž๐š๐ฎ๐ญ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ฎ๐ฅ (๐จ๐Ÿ๐ญ๐ž๐ง ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ž) ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐š๐ซ๐ž ๐œ๐จ๐ง๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ž๐ ๐›๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ง๐จ๐ข๐ฌ๐ž. ๐„๐ฏ๐ž๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก ๐ฐ๐žโ€™๐ซ๐ž ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐ข๐๐ฌ๐ญ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐Ÿ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐š๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ง๐ญ, ๐ข๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐๐จ๐ž๐ฌ๐งโ€™๐ญ ๐ก๐ฎ๐ซ๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ญ๐š๐ค๐ž ๐š ๐ง๐จ๐ญ๐ž ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐›: โ€œ๐ญ๐š๐ค๐ž ๐ญ๐ข๐ฆ๐ž ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ž๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ซ๐จ๐ฌ๐ž๐ฌ.โ€
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surftrips ยท 3 months
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ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him ๐Ÿคญ
word count: 1.6k
a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy ๐Ÿค
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You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovelyโ€” in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating.ย 
But even if you werenโ€™t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances.ย 
So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Lukeโ€™s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were.ย 
One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, โ€œJust be careful next time.โ€ The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.
โ€œWhat?โ€ he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away.ย 
โ€œNothing,โ€ you mused. โ€œJust that I think youโ€™re getting soft, Luke Castellan.โ€ You poked a finger at his chest playfully.ย 
โ€œWhat?โ€ he shook his head. โ€œNo, Iโ€™m not.โ€ย 
Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you saidโ€” no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks.ย 
โ€œOkay, lover boy. Whatever you say,โ€ you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that heโ€™s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone.ย 
Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds.ย 
โ€œDude, youโ€™re like, totally whipped for her,โ€ Percy remarked over lunch once.ย 
โ€œAnd youโ€™re like, totally fourteen years old,โ€ Luke said.
โ€œI think the fourteen year oldโ€™s right,โ€ Chris jumped in.
โ€œDude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,โ€ Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.
The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. โ€œI am not whipped for Y/N.โ€ย 
โ€œOh, sure,โ€ Chris began. โ€œSo the reason youโ€™re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is becauseโ€ฆ?โ€ย 
โ€œOh, and donโ€™t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!โ€ Percy pointed out. โ€œMeanwhile, Iโ€™m over here freezingโ€ฆโ€ย 
โ€œMaybe,โ€ Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. โ€œMaybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.โ€ย 
He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasnโ€™t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself.ย 
โ€œDude, itโ€™s okay if you are, sheโ€™s literally your girlfriend,โ€ Chris said.
โ€œHey! I have an idea, letโ€™s ask Annabeth!โ€ Percy declared.
โ€œAnnabeth? Why her?โ€ Luke furrowed his brow.ย 
โ€œBecause, sheโ€™s a girl. And sheโ€™s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,โ€ Percy said matter-of-factly.ย 
Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious?ย 
Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking.ย 
โ€œWhatโ€™s up?โ€ she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food.ย 
โ€œOh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,โ€ Chris explained with a grin on his face.ย 
โ€œOh?โ€ Annabeth said, seemingly amused.ย 
โ€œYeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,โ€ Percy continued. โ€œWould you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that heโ€™s with Y/N?โ€
Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. โ€œGods, you guys are such children,โ€ she scoffed.ย 
โ€œThank you!โ€ Luke cut in.
โ€œI mean, all of you,โ€ she looked at Luke pointedly. โ€œWhy do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.โ€ย 
That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag.ย 
Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say โ€œSorry, Luke. Itโ€™s true.โ€ย 
Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. Youโ€™d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.ย ย 
In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.
You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened.ย 
โ€œWhatโ€™s on your mind, hon?โ€ you asked softly.ย 
Luke didnโ€™t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.
After a while, he did speak up. โ€œUhm, do you think that Iโ€™m, like, unapproachable?โ€ย 
Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. โ€œWhat makes you say that?โ€ย 
โ€œI donโ€™t know, itโ€™s just something thatโ€™s been on my mind recently.โ€ย 
โ€œLuke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didnโ€™t mean it like thatโ€”โ€ย 
โ€œNo, baby,โ€ he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasnโ€™t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. โ€œI was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.โ€ย 
You couldnโ€™t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. โ€œIโ€™m sorry, babe. Continue,โ€ you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure.ย 
โ€œThey said that Iโ€™ve changed since we started dating.โ€ย 
Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldnโ€™t read the expression on Lukeโ€™s face. You couldnโ€™t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. โ€œChanged how so?โ€ย 
โ€œThey think Iโ€™m soft now because Iโ€™m always in a good mood and stuffโ€ฆโ€ he trailed off.ย Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.
โ€œWell,โ€ you started, trying to find the right words. โ€œYou know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think youโ€™ve always been this way.โ€ย 
โ€œWhat do you mean?โ€ย 
โ€œI mean, I think youโ€™ve always been a giant teddy bear,โ€ you grinned, unable to contain yourself. โ€œLuke, youโ€™re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.โ€ย 
By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasnโ€™t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be.ย 
As if reading his thoughts, you said, โ€œYou donโ€™t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?โ€ย 
Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head.ย 
โ€œGentle, kind, and lovely.โ€ย 
Luke wasnโ€™t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. โ€œYou do not,โ€ he objected.ย 
โ€œI'm serious, baby,โ€ you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. โ€œI think youโ€™re the most wonderful and caring guy Iโ€™ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just donโ€™t always show it.โ€
He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, โ€œI must be one lucky girl.โ€ย 
โ€œHey, if thereโ€™s one thing Iโ€™m sure about, itโ€™s that Iโ€™m the lucky one,โ€ he said, before pulling you in for a kiss.ย 
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sea-saltz ยท 10 months
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People keep telling me my hair looks nice and I keep telling them I have been washing it with Palmolive hand soap because my husband took the rest of our shampoo with him on his month long trip
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groguspicklejar ยท 3 months
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I love your mafia!141. Its so interesting and realistic at the same time, its just wonderful. But what if... someone tried to frame the reader and succeed. The reader was just at the right places at the right time and some uses it against them and with the tention between the reader and mafia!141, it was so easy to belive they betrayed them. So they interrogate the reader and hurt them to get answers that dont exist. And by the time they realize what they did, it's too late. They go looking for they were they last left ( unceremoniously dumped) them and find nothing. The reader gone in the wind as if they never existed. The reader however was surprisingly help by someone passing by that just happens to be an agent of some sort and gets put under witness protection. Now its been six /seven years later, the boys think the reader is dead and the reader is living a life somewere new with her twins ( heteropaternal superfecundation), a pale skined,blue eyed and brown haired boy and a chocolate skined, hazel-eyed and curly haired girl. And one day the boys have to do business in a different city and see the reader somewhere with the twins. The guys are shocked to say the least and think they mite have seen a ghost, till they see them again one morning as the reader is taking the twins to school. And thus they realize they have kids with a woman they thought they killed... And so i leave the rest to you if you do deside to use any of this.
your mind is so wrinkly but i kinda hate you for putting this in my head because this trope is my weakness๐Ÿ‘ฝ I've only seen one reference of heteropaternal superfecundation in mainstream media, which was from s1 of American Horror story and it's a nice touch to bring the idea here๐Ÿ‘Œ๐Ÿฝ not going into the canon timeline of mafia!141 but i'm leaving this here for all to see because it's just too good to leave rotting in my inbox๐Ÿซ ๐Ÿซ ๐Ÿซ  warnings: dark themes, stalking, mentions of torture, elements of ptsd, unconventional parenting schedule/custody arrangements, a looot of guilt.
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it's unclear whether they're devastated, relieved or just in pure shock upon seeing you after all these years. and with two boys too, aged eight now.
eight years. eight fucking years since they last saw you. that can't be a coincidence.
they kept a close eye on you, so they don't lose you again. kept your movements tracked, learned where you live, where you work, where your kids go to school, who you and your kids hang out with, the whole nine yards and more.
they don't approach you for a good while, at least a few months. too afraid that they might spook you. too afraid that you might take off and leave without a trace. this time with your childrenโ€” their children.
but eventually, due to your past trauma, you catch on to the fact that you're being followed. that unnerving itch at the back of your head, a quiet whisper telling you that you're being watched. it nags at you, makes you fearful that you're in danger, that your boys are in danger.
so you quietly pack up all the necessities you need to get out in case things turn sideways fast. and your sons have already made aware that they're going on a trip, but they're smart, as kids are. they notice that something's wrong and it's making their mom worried.
but the second you try to run, they're already at your doorstep because, again, they've been watching you closely.
you're not surprised when you opened the door to find Price standing there.
"can i come in?"
if he's here, then no doubt the others are too. watching. waiting for you to make the wrong move. you have no doubt that the house is surrounded. that even if, by some miracle, you get through Price, either Soap or Ghost will be waiting for you and Gaz is somewhere on higher ground, watching through the scope of a rifle.
no way out. just like last time.
you don't look away from Price as you call out, "boys, go to your room."
their footsteps quickly patter down the hall and you hear the door close. you step back to let Price in and close the door behind him. you don't offer him a drink, don't offer him a seat. nothing. he deserves nothing from you.
"beautiful home." he muses, glancing around the cosy interior of your house. he turns to look at you with a wry smile. "beautiful children."
you can't think of anything worse than him getting his hands on your sons. what they put you through was bad enough. in fact, it should've killed you.
you would rather go through all of it again than let them harm a single hair on your children's heads.
"keep them out of this." you spoke too sharply. the words cut through the air.
you think maybe it's not such a good idea to speak like that to someone who holds your life in the palm of his hands.
"please..." it's a whisper this time, a plea. "please keep them out of this."
something crumples in his eyes. a flash of heartbreak, of a devastation that will take an eternity to heal. but it's fleeting. gone as quickly as the wind. what's left is something somber.
"i just want to talk." he finally says.
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the boys stick close to you. naturally, they feed off of your energy. they watch you closely, see how you react to things and follow your lead. rightfully so; after all, mother knows best.
you hardly go anywhere far when 141 is around them. always ready to step in if you feel that your sons need you. always beckoning them when you can't see them for more than a few minutes.
Gaz and Soap might be fathers to each boy, but that doesn't change how unsafe you feel around them.
the fact weighs heavily on all four of them.
Price and his boys don't uproot you and your children. not this time. they learned the hard way that doing so will only make you more fearful and by extension, making the boys less trusting of them.
instead, it's better to work around your already established life and schedule. even if it means moving 141 headquarters to an entirely new city, they'll do it. they'll do whatever you want, as long as you keep them involved in your and your sons' lives.
Ghost and Price are good to your kids. Price adores listening to them talk about school and Ghost sort of treats them like mini-adults because he feels sort of out of his element when it comes to children.
but they can't help but think that you're only allowing Soap and Gaz supervised visitations to keep some semblance of peace. because deep down, they know you feel as though you don't have a choice, that things will be worse if you don't give them something to work with.
deep down, they know that if you had the power, your sons would be kept as far away from their fathers as possible. and not out of spite, it's out of fear. you're terribly afraid that they'll hurt your children.
yet, that's not even the worst part.
slowly, with time, the boys become a little more open towards their dads and their uncles. they smile more, they're more playful, more talkative. but you remain steadfast in your cold demeanour.
if the boys need new clothes, you remain afar while Soap and Gaz take their pick from the clothing aisles and do their shopping. you hardly say a word during the process. you treat it more as a tedious task, rather than a bonding ritual. and you don't accept any gifts from Soap and Gaz either.
any stray dresses or accessories that don't look like they're for kids that wind up in the shopping basket are promptly taken out and put back where they were found when your sons aren't looking. you either claimed that you didn't like them or don't have anywhere you'd like to wear them to.
which, technically, isn't a lie. you hardly have any friends. you just don't trust people nowadays.
you keep yourself seperate from them, aside from the supervised visits. you don't allow for them to get close too you because you don't want to have to go through the same heartbreak before if someone betrays them and thinks you did it again.
and they hate themselves for it. it's not your fault you're so aloof with them. not allowing them to touch you, to hold you, even for just a few seconds. refusing dates, refusing gifts, not using their cards for your own stuff like treating yourself with a spa day or a shopping spree.
the only notifications that come onto their phones are food and stuff you bought for the boys. that's it. nothing else. and it hurts because they adore spoiling you rotten and you won't let them like before.
it's their own personal hell. being so close, yet so far from you. held at arm's length as if they were mere strangers.
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banners by @cafekitsune mafia!141 masterlist offer a note in the picklejar
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amaranthineghost ยท 4 months
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hello!!!
can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out sheโ€™s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but iโ€™d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.
thanks!!!!
| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |
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๊•ฅ pairing: lando x reader
๊•ฅ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.
๊•ฅ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3
๊•ฅ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion
TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.
but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.
staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.
despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.
they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.
time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.
time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.
it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.
it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.
but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.
having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.
no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.
no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.
and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.
it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.
she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.
the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.
it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.
"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.
she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.
from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.
with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.
because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.
times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.
times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.
times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.
it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.
so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.
but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.
she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.
as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.
part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.
this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.
time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.
they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.
they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.
deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.
with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.
and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.
countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.
when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.
"don't call the baby an 'it!'"
"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.
"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.
"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.
all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.
with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.
every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.
he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.
"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.
" 's at home."
when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.
"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.
he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.
she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"
"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"
when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.
"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.
she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.
instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.
with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.
he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.
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Cherry Wine. aka - Cherry, Part Two.
everything feels like love when you're drunk... right?
pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. characters who wouldn't even recognise their own feelings if they smacked them in the face.
word count - 3k
author's note - I love it when people walk each other home... if you couldn't tell. I think some of our most honest conversations happen on the street at 3am. thank you so much for all the love on Cherry!! I hope you enjoy this part two. friends to lovers might just be my favourite trope ever. it gets me everytime :(.
as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics <3. thanks, angels.
part one. series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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His eyes are glued to you.
They have been since he watched you pour just a little too much cherry vodka into your red plastic cup.
He keeps trying to catch your gaze across the smoky room, multicoloured lights clouding his vision. There's some sort of punk song playing through a stereo system somewhere, the beat of the guitar thumping through the wooden floorboards and into Steve's bones.
You're laughing, head thrown back at something Eddie has said. He's funny, Steve thinks. But not that funny. He watches carefully, refraining from intervening right up until the moment you almost trip over your own foot and into the curly haired boy. Steve's moving across the room before he can even process it.
"Cherry," he teases, hand snaking around your waist to hold you upright. "You okay?"
You turn in his hold to throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with big doe eyes.
"Stevie."
You say his name so sweet that he stumbles and almost takes you down with him.
"You okay?" you giggle.
"I'm good. You good?"
"I'm good."
You sway with him for a second, closing your eyes and revelling in the warmth of his hands on the bare skin of your waist.
"You're a little tipsy, huh?"
"Just a little."
"You wanna go home?"
You chew on your lip for a moment, weighing up your options.
"Can we go to your place? I don't wanna face my parents like this."
Steve leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair back from your face.
"Of course. Let's go, hm?"
"Let me grab my jacket. I'll meet you by the door."
You slink off upstairs, leaving Steve alone with Eddie.
"Just friends," Eddie mocks under his breath quietly.
"What?"
"Nothin'."
Steve stares at his friend with a brow quirked, stormy look on his face.
"All I'm sayin' is - I don't look at my best friend like that. Don't hold 'em like you just did. Don't have sleepovers either."
"I've known her since we were kids. It's different."
"I've got friends I've known since kindergarten. I don't kiss them on the forehead."
"I wouldn't put it past you," Steve mumbles, finished with the conversation. "Whatever, man. You don't get it."
"Oh, I get it. You're in love. Steve and Cherry, sitting in a tree-"
"Don't call her that."
"See? You're defensive over her nickname, because you gave it to her. Don't be an idiot, Steve. Life's too short."
"Yours will be, if you don't shut up."
Eddie takes that as his cue, shaking his head as he leaves to go and complain about the music choice.
Steve meets you outside, chuckling when he sees you shivering as you hold your jacket.
"Cherry, put your coat on. You're freezing."
You look up at him, slightly bewildered, and he fights to keep the smile off his face. Taking it from your hands, Steve slips the jacket around your shoulders, hands skimming up your arms to warm you.
"Better?"
"Better."
You slip your hand into his and begin to walk away from the noise, finally taking a deep breath when you're down the street.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," you reply, nudging him with your shoulder. "Feet hurt though. Fuckin' shoes."
You both stop, Steve kneeling down in front of you to unbuckle your heels. You look at him questioningly and he winks, cheeky and full of love.
He slips them off your feet and sits down on the curb, taking his sneakers off and gesturing for you to step into them.
"No, Steve. I chose to wear these, it's my own fault."
"I know, and they looked cute. But now you're going to wear these."
You step into the shoes reluctantly, holding back tears when he kneels and ties your laces tightly. Rising to his feet, he presses a kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers again, picking up your heels with his other hand.
You're both quiet, as you walk. Neither of you needs to say anything. It's always been this way. Steve's not good with silence usually, but with you, it's more than comfortable. Sometimes, you'll sit for hours in his bedroom doing your own things, content to just know the other person is there.
"Minnie Lawson kept asking about you tonight."
You try to keep the disdain from your voice as best you can, praying Steve doesn't pick up on it.
He does. He doesn't mention it.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
You keep walking, smiling occasionally when you catch sight of Steve's socked feet next to yours.
"What did she say?"
You mentally kick yourself for bringing it up, but take a deep breath and tell him anyway.
"Kept asking if you were single."
"And what did you say?"
"Told her she needed to ask you herself and that I'm not your secretary."
Steve cackles at this, loud and endearing. The sound makes you grin, whether you want to or not.
"Shit, Cherry baby. What did the girl ever do to you?"
"I didn't mind when she asked the first couple times, but the more she drank, the more she forgot. She couldn't remember if she'd already asked so kept asking again."
He laughs again, squeezing your hand where it still holds his tightly.
"She didn't talk to me."
"Didn't think she would."
He looks at you for a moment too long, your eyes meeting the floor to avoid his gaze.
"Mikey was asking about you tonight, you know."
You'd had a crush on Mikey in ninth grade, the summer after he'd gotten tall and started to look less like four walking limbs and more like a man. He was a nice guy, if not a little boisterous sometimes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Said you looked pretty. Wanted to know if you were still with the Douchebag."
You chuckle at the hatred in Steve's voice at the mention of your ex boyfriend.
"And you said..."
"That he was in the wind, thankfully."
"Dodged a bullet with that one."
You lean into his arm, savouring the warmth of his skin you can feel through your jacket and his long sleeve shirt.
"Mikey wants to ask you out."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Is that so hard to believe? You're a catch, you know."
"I don't know. Boys like Mikey never look at me, usually."
"I look at you."
Your breath hitches in your chest. It's like your heart has forgotten how to beat.
"Yeah," you whisper. "But you're Steve."
After a moment, you add,
"My Steve."
You rest your head onto his bicep, still clutching his hand. He leans down to press a kiss into your hair, resting his cheek there for a moment.
"You're worlds apart from boys like Mikey, Steve. He's nice, but he's not you."
You're not sure where all this sudden truth is coming from, but you're wondering if the cherry vodka has maybe hit you a little harder than you first thought.
"And you and Minnie Lawson aren't even in the same league. You've got nothing to worry about."
You both process Steve's words, before he starts stuttering.
"I mean, not that you, not that - it's not like you were worried, I'm sure. I bet you weren't. I just mean... you know what I mean, right?
Thankfully, you do.
"I know what you mean. I always do."
He stops walking, turning to face you on the sidewalk, hand never dropping yours. You're not sure where you are, but you know Steve knows. He'll keep you safe. Always.
"Okay," he breathes.
"Okay," you breathe.
"I love you," he breathes.
"I love you," you breathe.
"I don't want you to date Mikey Carter," he breathes.
"I don't want you to date Minnie Lawson," you breathe.
You both inhale deeply, following the other person's lead.
"I can't stop thinking about the other night," Steve whispers, so quietly you'd have missed if it you weren't so in tune with him.
Your lungs constrict for a second, all the air leaving you at once.
"Me neither."
You're stood in the street whispering to each other, frightened you'll burst the bubble you've accidentally created.
"I feel bad," you confess.
"Why, honey?"
"Because I... I didn't return the favour. I just let you get into bed and fall asleep. Sorry."
Steve's hands come up to cradle your face, eyes searching yours as if he's reading his favourite book.
"I didn't want you to. I told you, it wasn't about me, it was about you. I didn't... I didn't initiate it so I could get something in return."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologising, Cherry. You've got nothing to apologise for."
"Sorry," you reply without thinking, causing both of you to double over into fits of laughter.
Steve wipes the happy tears from your cheeks, gaze never leaving yours. You look at each other for a moment, feeling the atmosphere shift. The world could collapse around you both, and neither of you would notice. It's just you and Steve. Nothing more, nothing less.
He leans in gently, pressing his lips to yours in a featherlight kiss. He tastes like beer and spearmint.
"You're wearing your lipbalm."
"You've been chewing your gum."
He chuckles, kissing you again softly.
"You wanna go home?"
"Please. You're in your socks, and I look like a clown."
He looks at your feet and laughs, the sound much too loud for the early hours of a Sunday morning.
"Let's go, Cherry baby. My warm bed awaits us."
The stars guide you home hand in hand, Steve stealing the occasional kiss when you happen to be looking in his direction. You kick off his shoes by the door, running straight up the stairs to change out of your uncomfortable dress. Steve stops by the kitchen to grab you both a glass of water, bounding up after you and spilling half the liquid in the process.
He stops in the doorway when he reaches his room, breath caught in his throat. You're stood in just your panties, bare back to him, rifling through his drawers to find the soft grey shirt you always steal.
It's a sight he's seen before. Something is different this time.
"Where is it?" you ask, not turning around.
You know he's there. You know he knows what you're looking for.
This is what love is, he thinks suddenly. The knowing. The unknowing. The knowing that the other person knows. The other person knowing that you know. Unspoken knowledge.
"Bottom drawer, left," he chokes out. "Washed it."
You slip it on and turn around, pouting. The boy quirks a brow at you in question.
"Doesn't smell like you. Smells like your detergent, but not you. Will you wear it, when I leave?"
"Yeah," he chuckles, fighting the blush from rising across his chest. "Anything you want, baby."
Steve shrugs off his clothes, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before sliding into his side of the bed. You're in the bathroom, humming a tune that he can't quite place but knows he heard tonight. He watches you through the open door as you sway gently, ready to jump up and catch you if need be. You pee with the door still open, and Steve chuckles. It's like you've been married for twenty years.
"Can you please turn the fan on? I'm hot."
"Anything for you, Cherry Pie."
You jump into your side of the bed, sitting up to face the boy next to you. It might be 3am, but you're both wide awake, veins buzzing with endless possibility.
"I've been thinking," you murmur quietly.
"Never a good sign."
"Shut up."
You both laugh, and you can't help but grin. What a miracle, you think. To be alive at the same time as a boy like Steve Harrington. To know him. To love him.
"Will you let me return the favour?"
It's a vague question, but Steve knows exactly what you're asking. He chokes on his breath, tilting his head to look at you.
"Babe, you don't have to-"
"-I want to. So badly."
Steve inhales deeply, willing himself to calm down.
"I don't have to, if you don't want me to. But I can't stop thinking about the way you'd taste."
The boy thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Dreaming, maybe.
"Honey... fuck."
Steve nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Please. Jesus."
He's breathing so frantically, you're worried he might pass out. The last thing you need is your best friend unconscious.
"Breathe, Stevie. It's just me and you."
"Me and you."
"Always."
He comes back down to Earth, so you lean in to kiss him, all tender and cherry flavoured. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you push him backwards so he's leaning against the headboard. You straddle his hips, plush lips pressing into his neck, his chest, his collarbones. Steve's practically melting, a puddle of love and affection beneath you.
"Let me take care of you," you whisper into his ear, and who is he to deny you when you ask so sweet?
You crawl down his body until you're situated between his legs, thick thighs bracketing you in. You kiss along the inside of the muscle, nipping as you go and revelling in the way he jumps and hisses. It's nice to be the one in charge for once.
You scratch your nails along the bulge in his boxers, smirking when his hips buck up into you. You think, for a moment, that you'd happily lie here and tease him like this for hours, just to see when he'd snap. But this isn't the time for games, so you store that thought for another day.
"This still okay?"
"More than okay," he replies, all breathy and ungrounded. You link your fingers with his and squeeze, and all his nerves melt away.
You don't let yourself begin to think about why he's nervous. You know Steve's a ladies man, you know he's done this many times... so why is it different with you? You wonder if maybe you should talk about it afterwards. You're not sure if either of you are ready for that.
Mouthing at him over his underwear, you hum in contentment at his warmth. He's always run hot, every part of him. It's one of your favourite things.
You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down, throwing them onto the floor somewhere. The room is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand, the lightbulb casting shadows across Steve's slightly sweat damp skin. The fan acts as a soundtrack, white noise breaking up the silence.
You look at him and bite your lip, buzzing with anticipation. It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before, but it's different like this.
"Just... tell me what you like or what you don't like as I go along, okay?"
Steve smiles in adoration, running his thumb over your cheekbone gently.
"Okay."
You wrap your hand around him and curl your wrist, holding back a smirk when the boy whines. It's a pretty sound. You'd like to hear it again and again until he loses his voice.
Leaning in, you lick up the length of him, groaning at the salty musk. His taste, his scent, his sounds... it's all so Steve. He's the centre of your universe, everything around you just Steve Steve Steve.
Taking him fully into your mouth, a hand flies into your hair, tangling his fingers. He doesn't move you, just tethers himself to something real, something grounding. You take him as much as you can, working up a rhythm between your tongue and your hand. Steve's breathing as if he's just ran a marathon, chest heaving and lungs burning.
He finds his voice, suddenly.
"Oh fuck, baby."
"Shit, Cherry. Fuck, just like that."
"That's it, atta girl. Perfect girl. My girl."
"Oh, you're so good. So fucking good."
He tenses, fingers tightening in your hair once again.
"So close, baby. Don't stop. Please."
You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist in that way you've figured out he likes as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The boy sees stars, vision going white.
The noise he lets out as he finishes will be forever engrained in your mind, a never ending symphony that no orchestra could ever recreate.
He goes lax, collapsing back against the bed as you swallow, never breaking eye contact. You stick your tongue out as proof and he groans, deep and gutteral.
"Kiss me," he chokes, too blissed out to move.
You crawl up his body and press your lips to his, squeaking in surprise when he slips his tongue into your mouth to taste himself.
"Filthy," you laugh, resting your forehead against his.
"You love it."
You shake your head, but can't wipe the grin from your face.
"I love you."
"I love you more."
After a second, you giggle.
"What's funny?"
"I'd like to see Minnie Lawson do that."
Steve laughs, loud and melodic in the low light of the room.
"She's got nothing on you, Cherry baby. No one does."
You process the words, heart stuttering in your chest.
"We should talk about this," you whisper.
"We will," he assures, tugging you into him so your head is resting on his chest. "Tomorrow."
Lines have been crossed, lives have been changed, but the stars above your heads remain the same. They'll always guide you back to Steve.
The lamp flickers, the fan hums, the crickets sing their night time lullabies.
The boy leans down to press his lips to yours. He tastes like cherries and every kiss for the rest of your life.
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