#and how I literally turned down Paris | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheriladycl01 · 8 months ago

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Double the Interviews - Oscar Piastri x GreekOlympicTennis! Reader

Plot: WAG duties consist of you literally being in more interviews than Oscar because of your outgoing and bubbly personality.

"Y/N can we have a minute of your time please?" an interviewer asks pulling you away from your friend who you look over at. She smiles at you and nods, making her way back to the McLaren garage.

"How are you feeling about the race tomorrow?" he asks and you put a serious face on.

"Yeah, I think the car's got good pace, looking to be in some top positions and I'm excited to see what happens!" you nod and the interviewer holds back their laugh.

"Spoken like a true driver!" he chuckles and you start to laugh as well.

"How are you feeling knowing come summer you'll be competing in the Olympics for Greece in Paris while Oscar is also competing in his own sport?" he asks and you nod, carefully listening to the question to not misunderstand him.

"Yeah of course. You know it's always hard when you have those conflicting schedules especially in athlete relationships. You know I'm still competing in ATP and I have been for a while, and then going into the Olympics on top of that is just immense. I get to travel with my best friend who I've played tennis with since 3 years old but at the same time Osc isn't there all the time. I think that's why today is just so important to me, to be here to support him at his home race!" you smile to the man in front of you who slowly pulls the mic back towards him.

"Will we be seeing Oscar at the Olympics this year?" he asks.

"I think at this stage it's hard to tell, F1 has the longest and busiest schedule to date this year and there's more stress and pressure on the drivers than ever with all the changes taking place ahead of 2025 and 2026, so you know I'd love Oscar to be able to come and see me take home another medal, but again it's one of those moments where you can't be in two places at once!" you explain, knowing he'd already planned to come for your first event of the summer, and would try and stay with you, until it ended for you. But even he didn't know when McLaren would request for him in Woking, or if he'd go home to spend a little needed time with his family.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we are all wishing for Gold for you again this year. Good luck to you and Y/BFF/N who we did see earlier, but dipped away last minute before i could invite her!" he smiles at you, and you smile back.

"You'll see us at the Olympics up at the very top. We promise!" you give the camera a cheesy grin before saying your goodbye's and leaving him to question the next driver who was eagerly waiting behind you.

"There you are!" you hear the Australian accent you knew all to well from your left.

"Hey baby!" you smile, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on Oscar's cheek.

"Saw Y/BFF/N come back without you, when she told me you were stolen for an interview i thought i'd come see if you needed saving" he softly tells you placing a light and gentle hand in your smiling softly down at you.

"Ah, you see baby that is where we are completely and utterly different. I love talking to all your work colleagues!" you say, pulling his hand along so you can both walk back together. You wave at people as you walk past saying small hello's and posing for any camera's you spot in your peripheral.

"You consider the media work colleagues of mine?" he asks with a low laugh that has you cocking your head to one side in question.

"You don't?" you offer back.

"No, my colleagues are my team and the other drivers!" he admits with a blank look on his face that just screams that no cogs are turning up there.

"I mean, you work with the media every time your here. I'd say you work with them, they might not be on your team but they are still apart of your sport!" you admit, he goes to argue but you put a soft finger on his lip.

"Would you consider my ball boy's as my colleagues?" you ask, and he thinks for a second before sighing and nodding.

"There you go then! F1 interviewers are your work colleagues and i like talking to them, they always have very insightful questions!" you smile.

"Insightful or invasive?" he queries looking across at you, brows a little furrowed.

"Damn, you really are a young Kimi Raikkonen. I see what the fans mean now!" you laugh at his expression which quickly tries to change but the frown lines remain.

"God, we need to go back to my mum's for some rest and relaxation" you sigh, starting to massage his wrist and up his arm making him sigh.

"Mmmm, we do I really miss that one dish that she makes us!"

"The Tzatziki with the roasted meat and vegetable kebabs or Moussaka?" you ask looking over at him knowing he enjoyed both.

"Oh! I was thinking of the Moussaka, but the Tzatziki is good. My trainer actually said that it was the perfect mix!" he admitted, still holding that blank expression.

"But he tells you off for the Honey Cake!" you sigh knowing that it was a delicacy you didn't get very often too, being an athlete and all meant that you had to have a very strict diet and couldn't lie to your trainer about cheat days you'd have.

"Okay but that Honey Cake is lethal! You cant stop when you start eating it!" he says before starting to quietly ramble about all his favorite foods as you enter the confides of his driver room away from the public eye.

You cant help but just watch and smile at him, people rarely get to see this funny talkative side of Oscar that could actually out ramble you sometimes which should be near impossible as you were very much a yapper. Especially when you got passionate and would slip in some of you mother tongue without realizing.

"What?, Why are you staring at me?" he asks, after realizing he'd started to rant.

"I just love watching you talk, you nose scrunches when you get passionate about a topic and it's cute" you smile, looking down knowing he'd be a blushing mess.

"Shut up! You are the yapper here, start yapping!" he says, making you burst out laughing while he goes to sit down on the small sofa.

"I'm going to miss you next week!" you sigh as you sit down on his lap where he wraps his arms tightly around you and rests his head in the crook of you neck.

"I know, but I'll come see you at your next tournament after the triple-header!" he smiles, kissing against your neck your body relaxing against his.

"It's just hard, god I'm clingy!" you attempt to laugh the tears away.

"Lando wants to know if you and Y/BFF/N are down for a rematch" he smirks changing the conversation to a more light-hearted one.

"Oh you boys are so on!" you grin.

y/user

Liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris

y/user: Photo Dump from the boyf’s homeland! Love you Australia 🇦🇺

View all 278 comments

oscarpiastri: it was fun playing doubles with you and y/bff/n. Best you next time

landonorris: these guys are kinda good at tennis yo!

-> y/user: does the gold medal mean nothing to you?

-> landonorris: not really :0

-> y/user: well … Osc?

-> oscarpiastri: don’t involve me :(

Your Instagram Story Caption:

Double Trouble in Stralia 🇦🇺

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81

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qraceiuv · 1 year ago

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heyy! i love your writing sm‼️🫶

i have a request for jude x singer!reader with sabrina carpenter as the fc?? reader writing nonsense about jude and bonus if she dedicates one of her nonsense outros to him while he’s in the crowd (if yk about sabrina’s nonsense outros)

thank youu! ❤️❤️

nonsense. jude bellingham.

summary — fans suspect something between you and jude, so you confirm it in your signature outro at a concert

note — thank u sm love!! sorry im so late to making this, but hopefully it turned out good. i literally love sabrina sm

warnings — none i can think of, just lots of suggestive jokes

_________________________________________

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: tour is back 🩷 see u tn madrid!

—

username: mother

username: THE OUTFIT OMG

username: nonsense outros r back😻😻

yourfriend: hottie

username: my gf who isnt my gf but is my gf

gracieabrams: stunning

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: next stop: paris

—

username: barking

username: SEE U SOON🤗🤗

username: jude liked girl.

username: yes!! ignore the jude allegations!!

— username: LMFAOO

username: jealous of jude

username: JUDE AND TRENT LIKED

— username: TRENT?! HELLO

username: marry me pls

username: if jude shows up tn i will scream

username: who tf is jude and why is he w my gf

— username: some famous football player who is hot im not sure but im abt to become a mf fan

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: this leg of the tour has been so happy and im loving every second of it 🤍 thank u for the memories, heres a lil dump before i head to london!

—

username: WHO THE HELL.

username: GIRL U CANNOT FOOL US WITH THE SAPPY CAPTION.

username: WHO?!

username: THAT IS JUDE MF BELLINGAM

username: BELLINGOLLL

username: GIRL GET OUT

username: WHY ARE WE ALL SCREAMING

username: lol not u cheating on me 😂

username: im leaving you

username: HAHAHAHAHAH (kill me)

username: soft launch with a twist?

y/nsusername

y/nsusername: think i'm screwed...

—

username: what is this behavior

username: IM IM IM

username: hi i am jude

username: no like ur insane

username: imma be sick

username: so happy for u!! 😂😂 (im jumping)

username: THE CAPTION GIRL

username: ur a diff type of evil

yourfriend: about time

— username: ABOUT TIME?! HOW LONG

judebellingham: i have a migraine

— y/nsusername: alright now buddy

— username: WHAT THE FUCK

username: he commented WHAT

username: this is insane

judebellingham

judebellingham: nonsense

—

username: logging off forever

username: THEY ARE CRAZY

username: no i love them sm

username: why are they so cute😭😭

username: 5th slide stfu

username: theres only sm i can handle

y/nsusername: of all the pics you could choose

— judebellingham: you're always so beautiful my love

— username: ALRIGHT PUT THE PHONE DOWN

y/nsusername: IM TALKIN WILD WILD THOUGHTS

— yourfriend: get a room

y/nsusername: love you🥰

— judebellingham: i love you more

_________________________________________

#jude bellingham #fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude x reader #jude bellingham fic #judebellingham #jude fic #jude bellingham smau #jude bellingham social media au #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham smut #soccer x reader #soccer imagine #football imagine #qraceiuv

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buckets-and-trees · 9 months ago

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You're such a wicked menace, Eva!

Title: Insatiable Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 1845

Summary: Your new boyfriend comes along when you pick up the keys for your new apartment and conduct the move-in inspection.

Content Warnings: explicit smut (oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, hint at overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie)

Logistical Notes: Fulfilling my February box for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo event (forehead kiss, fingering). Follows our Desperate couple but can be read as a stand alone piece.

Additional Notes: Honestly I didn't have any plans to return to our rivals-to-lovers couple from Desperate and Uncertain and Sure again so soon, but this gif hit a certain inspiration and may pull from some literal "reader insert" vibes as I'm moving into a new apartment right now... Also thoroughly inspired by this post coming across my dash today thanks to @ghotifishreads.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You couldn’t help the permanent smile on your face.

Yes, moving was going to be a hassle, and you didn’t have a clue how everything was going to fit into this tiny one-bedroom apartment, but being back in the place again, keys officially in your hands, the place really yours, standing in front of the bright living room windows that made your heart sing when you first saw the place, that feeling that this was your place warmed your whole chest again.

It was hard to break away from the light streaming in through the windows, but you turned your head to look at Bucky. “So? What do you think of the place?”

He was new to your life, too.

The kidnapping and rescue in Paris had been only a month ago. Over that month, you and Bucky had been figuring out what the revelation of your feelings for each other meant outside of a life and death situation. Parts of that were easy, other parts were trickier, but nothing that made you want to abandon ship.

“I think it’ll suit you well,” he answered. His smile was soft. You loved seeing this side of him, especially after so many years of angst and rivalry between you.

“You’re practically glowing with excitement,” he added.

Your smile grew to a grin, and you shrugged one shoulder. “It’s smaller than the place I’ve been, but I couldn’t resist all this sunlight.”

You turned around and looked at the empty living room that bled into the kitchen area. “I want to try and measure things and figure out where everything will go before the movers bring the furniture in tomorrow. I’m still worried about whether all my shelves will fit or not.”

You set your bag down on the kitchen counter and began to pull out a measuring tape, the blue painters tape you planned on using to map out the furniture shapes on the floor and rummaged for the hastily scribbled together list you’d made of your furniture dimensions.

Bucky had remained silent – he was often so silent you could forget he was present when you got immersed into something – and you spun back around to see him still in the same position across the room by the windows, studying you.

“What?”

“You know what we have to do before anything else,” he said seriously.

“What’s that?”

He licked his lips.

Oh.

Your stomach flipped.

“Bucky, we can’t–”

He chuckled. “You have the keys, it’s officially your place,” he said, stalking toward you. “We absolutely can.”

Before you could utter another word, he reached for your elbow and tugged you into his arms, planting a sound kiss right on your mouth, swallowing all protest. He coaxed your lips open, and his tongue licked into your mouth, drawing an eager moan from you.

Damn, he was too good at this, you thought as your hands came up to clutch at his back.

He pressed your bodies together, and you were not surprised to feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. One thing you had learned about Bucky over the last month was that he could be ready to have you on the turn of a dime, and he could be insatiable. That your body responded so quickly to him as well was both blessing and curse. Less than a minute and you were melting completely against him, eager for more, and you could feel the slickness already growing at your slit.

Your hands dropped down his back, but only to reach the hem of his sweater before dipping under so your fingers could eagerly climb up against his naked skin. He grinned into the kiss.

With his sweater quickly halfway up his torso, Bucky broke off the kiss momentarily to pull it up and off the rest of the way. Then he coaxed you down to the floor, spreading his sweater down on the hardwood floor and laying you gently on top of it. His body covered yours, and he began kissing you in earnest again, his vibranium arm planted next to your head while his other hand began deftly working at the buttons on the front of your blouse.

It was only another moment or two before he’d pushed your shirt open to bare your torso to him, and Bucky wasted no time in trailing his hot lips down your throat to blaze down your chest, paving a heated path between your breasts, over the band of your bra, and down your stomach. He gave your belly button a playful lick that had you gasping and a giggle bubbling up your throat.

“Bucky!”

He chuckled, and reached down to pull your shoes off as he pressed more kisses over your stomach. Then, with both shoes discarded, he knelt above you to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before pulling them down and off your legs. As your legs came back down on either side of him, his hands skimmed slowly along your inner thighs, and when they reached your core, he pressed one thumb at the base of your clothed slit and brushed it up over the damp cloth of your panties, the other thumb following just after and teasing you again there. You canted your hips up, wordlessly asking for more.

Bucky smirked, but he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and quickly pulled them off, tossing them to the side as well.

“Please,” you begged.

“Happily,” he whispered, then lowered himself down to wedge his shoulders between your thighs, pressing them wide to accommodate his broad frame. He licked a stripe up your dripping slit, moaning at the taste of you.

Your stomach swam with butterflies and your cheeks heated slightly. You had never been with anyone so unabashedly open with their desire for you as Bucky. He held nothing back when expressing his pleasure, his desire. It was a heady thing to be on the receiving end of, and you it still had you between feeling slightly flustered and drowning further in the depths of how intoxicating it was to know the effect you had on him.

He applied a second, slower lick over your folds, and then he began to kiss your lower lips the way he did your mouth, and your entire body coiled up for him, back arching, hands grabbing for his short hair, legs contracting.

“Bucky, god, yes,” the words tumbled out as you quickly began to lose more and more of your coherence.

But he was slow and torturous in his ministrations. You squirmed for more, but he held your pelvis down with one firm hand, while the other gently caressed your hip. Your fingers found his vibranium ones, and he entwined them with yours and started to fuck your cunt with his tongue.

When he heard a little whine escape from you, he began to suck your clit diligently. The orgasm that he’d been building you toward escaped from you briefly, but the switch picked right up on building that tension again, and he flicked his tongue a few times across your swollen nub as he sucked, and then you cried out as you finally tumbled over the edge of ecstasy.

He pressed a kiss to your cunt, then shifted up, quickly maneuvering his hands beneath your back to unclasp your bra and pull off your last piece of clothing. It was the only moment of reprieve he gave you, because then his mouth dipped to suck at one of your tits, and one of his hands worked into your folds, slowly stroking in and out of your tight channel. Two fingers curled into your pussy, and he quickly found one of his favorite places – that spongy spot on the front of your walls, knowing he found exactly the spot he needed as you gave a debauched moan. He slipped in a third finger, and as he sucked the hardened nub of your nipple and lapped at it, he worked to rip your second orgasm from your soul more quickly. It was clear nothing was going to deter him from his plans to ruin you in the empty apartment, and you could only be glad you were up on a floor high enough you didn’t risk any neighbors seeing in your open blinds to see the way he was taking you apart right there on the floor.

The second orgasm burst through your body unexpectedly, and it stole the breath from your lungs.

It had ripped through you so powerfully that you didn’t register the clinking sound of his belt buckle coming undone and hitting the floor as he unzipped and pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs.

But you noticed he wasn’t finished with you as he slipped one hand under your thigh and angled your hips to slot the head of his cock between your puffy folds.

You whimpered, fighting to open your eyes and plead your case as you looked into in the depths of his heated blues. Whether you were pleading for him to stop or for more, you really didn’t know or care at this point.

He hitched your leg up around his hip and slowly slid his fat cock fully into your cunt. “So damn good.”

You moaned openly, completely debauched on pleasure at this point, but clearly your pussy wouldn’t refuse him plying you with even more of it.

Deep, slow strokes.

You felt every aching inch of him as he thrust slowly in and out of your tight channel. He still made you stretch around him, and it was exquisite for both of you.

Full, so full.

In and out.

So deep inside of you now, and you could do nothing but make incoherent noises beneath him, gasping for air. “I know, sugar, I know," he murmured into the crook of your neck. "Gonna give us what we both need.”

And he fucking does, as he does every time, using your body as if he’s had you for years. He rewarded you both with an orgasm that truly leaves you boneless and breathless once he finally pushed you over the edge and then sped up his thrusts to chase his own release as your vagina squeezed around his throbbing cock. He groaned as he spilled hot ropes of cum inside of you, thrusting until he’d emptied himself in you completely. Finally, he collapsed on top of you, and pressed kisses into the crook of your neck, then along your jaw, allowing you to try and catch your breath before finally kissing your lips again.

You whined against his lips, and he rolled over, taking you with him, and letting you lay half on his chest, half against his side. He continued to kiss you lazily.

You didn’t know how long he continued to make out with you, but the sun’s rays had shifted significantly once he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you rested your head on his bare shoulder.

“It’s a good floor,” he said, almost mundanely.

You laughed softly.

“We’ll need to check the counters a little later,” he added.

READ THE NEXT PIECE FOR THIS COUPLE: BIG CONVERSATION

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #aspen wrote something #aspen asks #desperate verse #build a bucky bingo 2023 #babb2023

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lufyuu · 7 months ago

Text

,, One more picture ''

Idol! male reader x Photographer OC

Tw/s: quite vanilla, not sure to put any. Reader goes from being dominant to submissive.

Not too long ago, you were asked to be an ambassador of Louis Vuitton. The moment Louis Vuitton had announced you became an ambassador of their brand, your fans, and group members were so excited, it went all over the news globally. You flew all the way to Paris for a photoshoot. They would have you model for them wearing their bags, jewelries, etc while also attending events wearing them. The moment you stepped out of the car, you were swarmed with fans, they were all trying to get your attention. Whether that'd be by screaming your name or having their hands out with gifts for you. Fortunately, you had very good security guards, they managed to keep the fans from touching you or getting too close. The first day you were seen wearing the outfit Louis Vuitton had provided you with, it sold out in the matter of hours.

Due to this opportunity, you had many scheduled photoshoots for Louis Vuitton. The first thing that caught your eye was Eun Hyunwoo. Eun Hyunwoo was the photographer in your first photoshoot. He was absolutely breathtaking. He had the kind of look that would make people turn around to stare. A kind of look that belonged to the museum. It was both gentle and dashing. It was such a shame he didn't want to be an idol or anything like an idol. He finds photography to be much more interesting. He finds joy in taking pictures. "Photography captures life's beauty" is his reason to want to pursue it.

You found him to be quite an interesting man. A life of fame and money stared at him all day long and yet he never even once looked its way. The more you saw him, the more you saw his charms. It wasn't just his looks that charmed you. It was the way he would talk, describe things. "[Name]-nim, I will never be able to describe you in a word...", was what he said when you told him to. He said he's not good with describing people, especially you. That made your heart flutter. It felt as if butterflies were eating you from the inside out. Eventually, you even developed sexual thoughts about him at work. When you'd be backstage and have random thoughts of being fucked by him. Something about a gentle man being rough with you made your legs turn into jelly. You'd have to excuse yourself to the bathroom because of these thought. This man had you going crazy.

Click Click Click, the sound of a camera clicking accompanied by bright light aimed at you. "That shot was gorgeous as always," the photographer commented. The staff all agreed with him, "as expected from [Name]," they would say. Others only nodded in agreement. "Thank you, everyone, for your hard work!"you said, bowing to everyone in the room as a sign of respect as a few people removed the props. The photographer looked through the camera roll, the pictures he had captured of you were flawless, you looked elegant, your aura radiating through the small screen. Just as he was admiring your beauty, you approach him. "Eun Hyunwoo-shi," you tap his hand, which startles him a bit. "Ah..! [Name]-nim, what's the matter?"He looks a bit down to face you. Though he doesn't really make eye contact, how could he when you're quite literally the number one most sought out idol at the moment? He didn't feel worthy. "Could you perhaps send those pictures to me? I want to take a look", a smile spreads across your face, a gentle smile that convinces him even if he's been told not to. "Oh.. Of course, should I send it through your work email?", he scrambles to find his phone, which is in his right pocket. You shake your head, indicating he's wrong about that assumption. You stretch out your right hand to take the phone, and he hesitantly gives it to you. You typed out your number on his phone, "Just text me them here." He takes back his phone as you walk away, looking down at his phone and then looking back to the direction you were walking towards until your figure disappears behind the door. His face turned a bit red as the other staff members asked him to help with dismantling the set.

After an hour, you finally returned back to your hotel. Your phone lights up with a ding!, it was the「Lum¡n☆ry」group chat.

➤Woohoooo: @[Name] we miss uuuuu

➤4Sp☆rks: Are you done with the photoshoot?

➤Cho_Sangwoo: You guys are disturbing him. He's probably still at the photoshoot.

Looking at the group chat, you couldn't help but let a smile spread across your face. Texting them back quickly, you informed them that you're now at the hotel. Though, no matter how much you had been distracted, a certain person was at the back of your mind. A man with short and messy black hair. The way his soft blue eyes looked at you was unforgettable. Your heart thumped at the thought of him, the thought of being on your knees, unzipping his.. ding! a sudden ding snapped you out of it. You went to open the dm, it was from an unknown number.

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY: [photo] +10 more

They were your photoshoot photos. You immediately connected the dots and realized it's not a random stalker. It's Eun Hyunwoo. Taking a good look at the pictures, they are definitely breathtaking, but you spot something. The third picture he had sent was odd. The angle was wrong. As the professional man you are, you point it out.

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY:

-Ah...

-I'm sorry for the trouble [Name]-nim, should we retake the picture?

You thought of it for a moment, it sure would be an inconvenience for you. It'd totally mess up your schedule, too. Plus, there's other pictures to make up for it. You'll only be missing a singular picture, what harm could that do? Honestly, it would be better for everyone, including yourself, if you just said no.

➤You: Sure!

You sure are thinking with your dick right now.

➤You: Are you still at the photoshoot place? I can go there right away while I still have my outfit and make up on

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY: I'm not sure if that's a good idea, [Name]-nim...The other staff members have already gone home, it'd be a complete mess, wouldn't it?

➤You: We can make it work. Besides, you're the best photographer I know

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY: If you say so [Name]-nim, I'll be waiting.

And with that confirmation, you got up from the sofa, grabbing your bag and sprinting to the place. Not literally of course, you took a taxi there.

When you get to the place, the lights are almost all off. There's a person waving at you with a camera around their neck. "[Name]-nim!", as you get closer, you see a gentle smile on his face. "Eun Hyunwoo-shi," you said his name in return, "let's get back in now", you put your hand behind his back, urging him back in. Eun Hyunwoo turns on all the switches, revealing the already tidied up room. The lights were moved to one side while the decorations were put in a box. "Shall we set it up once more?", he asks, looking at you and expecting you to nod or say yes. "No, let's take a photo right here, it'll turn out great," he seemed very skeptical. The area you are in at the moment is quite dark. Of course, it could turn out artistic, but considering your other pictures, it wouldn't fit at all. "[Name]-nim, I don't think that's a good-", "come here!", you pull his hand to the area, making sure he won't be able to disagree further. Without a word, you push yourself up on the table, sitting on it with your legs crossed, posing for the camera. He gets the message and puts the camera up to his eye, aiming it at you.

Click click , you get off the table and look at the pictures on the small screen. "Hm...these won't do," "o-oh, why's that..?", he asks, looking at you as if expecting you to say his camera work is terrible. "Oh, it's not you, I think I know what's missing here," you go back to your position and beckon him to come closer. He complies, wondering if you knew how to make the pictures better. You then grab his tie, his head is now leaned down to face you, "[Name]-nim...?-", you look up at him, wanting him to get the message, "Hyunwoo shi..."he gulped, his face visibly red, especially his ears. His eyes widened a bit, now knowing what you want him to do. Immediately, he leans down to meet your lips, putting his camera beside you, grabbing your chin, and kissing you deeply. "Mmm..ah..", he moans into the kiss. It's obvious he hasn't done much kissing in his life before. The two of you finally let go after a while. The kiss was intense.

Looking at his hard cock straining in his pants, you hop off the table, getting on your knees infront of him, infront of his boner. You unzip his pants using your teeth, you could hear his breath hitch. Even through the boxer, his pre-cum was already leaking through. "All it took was a kiss for you to get hard?", you tease him, "w-well I-I...!", he couldn't make up an excuse for himself, he did get super worked up from a single kiss. "You're really adorable", before he could answer, you took out his cock out of it's restraints, "holy shit..", your eyes widened at the sight. His cock was long and girthy, "Hyunwoo-shi...I didn't expect you to have such a big thing down here", "is it really that big...?", he looks with his face being covered partly by his hand due to the embarrassment. You took his cock in your hand, you couldn't even wrap your hand around it, "mmm, very", was what you said before putting the tip into your mouth, licking and sucking on it. "[Name]-nim..!-", you released his cock from your mouth, "it's [Name], no need for formalities", he coughs and corrects himself, "[Name]...It's dirty down there", you chuckle at this response and continue to suck on his tip, "a-ah..", he tries to keep in his moans but with you sucking him like that, how could he do it for long? His moans were muffled by his hand, you aren't satisfied with this, why would he contain his moans?

You took his cock in deeper, now half of his length is in your mouth. "A-ah...agh...!", he finally lets his moans out, no longer covering his mouth with his hand. You smile, "eunjwoin thwis?", you try to say while his cock is reaching your throat, the vibrations from your mouth making him even weaker. He could only nod weakly in response.

Sounds of sucking accompanied by Eun Hyunwoo's moans were music to your ears. Unconsciously, due to pleasure, he grabs your face and pushes you down on his cock, taking it even further in, you begin to choke on his length, trying to adjust as best you can. Eun Hyunwoo then proceeds to grab the camera on the table with his other hand, pointing it down at you yet again, "you look so pretty...", he mumbles, taking a picture of you sucking him so good. Click

His face is practically as red as it can be by this point, he would never admit it but you've always had an effect on him, everytime he looks at you, he feels butterflies in his stomach, flying around. The way your lips wrap around his cock makes him even hornier, grabbing your hair and face-fucking you. His cock goes all the way to your throat. You try and contain your tears but they ultimately come out, your eyes glossy, looking up at his lustful face. The once gentle look on his face is now gone. He only has lust in those eyes. He continues to facefuck you, making sure it hits the back of your throat everytime. The pleasure he felt was unreal. "God...[Name], your mouth's so warm..", he praises. You wanted him to cum and so you sucked him more but, he suddenly pulls you off of his still hard cock leaking with pre-cum. You look up at him with a confused and disappointed look on your face. Before you could protest, he lifts you up onto the table, letting you sit up. He pulls down your pants and boxers, discarding them to the side.

Without any lube, he was hesitant to continue but with a little reassurance, he went on with what he wanted to do all along. He uses spit as a substitute for lube, "bare with me here...", he says as he pushes himself into you. Taking it slow. The last thing he wants is for you to get hurt, you're too precious to him.

You were trying to adjust to his size when he suddenly asked for forgiveness, "[Name]...I'm sorry but I can't handle it anymore..", it looked as if he was a beast, ready to ravage his prey. Then, he pushes all the way into you, making you take all of him. This makes your back arch from the sudden plunge. His cock is definitely too big for your little hole. Tears were now rolling down your cheeks, you couldn't help it from falling. "Please don't cry...", he says while wiping your tears away with his finger. The feeling of his cock inside of you unmoving was torturing, you wanted him to move. He lets out a surprised yelp as you start moving. "Move...goddamnit", you said with an almost begging tone, leaving him no choice but to grab your hips and thrust his cock in and out of you. He would pull out until only his tip was in before thrusting it all back into you.

All you could do was moan and mumble incoherent sentences. "You're so adorable like this, [Name]", he says while you're in that state. Anything and everything you do is adorable to him. You could feel yourself getting close too. When you looked down, there was a visible bulge on your lower stomach. "I'm so close..!", he says while still thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow. You could feel yourself reaching your limit aswell. "Aagh..!", you let out a moan as you reach your climax, your cum splurting all over your lower body. But your photographer had not yet reached his. He desperately chased his climax, thrusting harsher and rougher until more tears ran down your cheeks. "I'm...cumming..! Take all of my cum", he finally cums into you. It felt like a decade as he released all of it inside you. His cum was dripping out your hole even with his cock still inside.

With such an adorable and tired expression on your face, Eun Hyunwoo couldn't help but reach over for his camera. He aimed the camera at your cum-filled and panting figure, making sure the camera captured his cock deep inside you, "you're so perfect like this, such a slut for my cock", he said shamelessly which was unexpected, it made you shudder a little. Being with you awakened something in him that he never knew he had. He went to caress your cheek with his free hand, smiling softly at you as he says, "[Name]-nim, I want to take more pictures of you..."

♡♡♡

Hello everyone, this is the first fic I'm writing for this blog. It's not really good but I promise to improve♡

Borders by : @/cafekitsune

#oc x reader #oc x male reader #male reader #amab reader #lgbtq #x male reader #「 by the hands of xin 」#smut #oc smut #bottom male reader #top male character #Xin's Eun Hyunwoo ☆

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ventismacchiato · 1 year ago

Text

41 behind the lens — truth or drink !

scaramouche x g!n reader

you and scara get asked to go on the youtube talk show ‘truth or drink’, where you ask eachother a series of questions. if one of you decides not to answer you must take a shot instead.

welcome to truth or drink! celebrity couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot!

Scara immediately starts pouring himself a shot.

You: we haven’t even started yet!

how long have you both been together?

Scara: about five years

You: five long years

Scara: go fuck yourself?

how did you both get together? did you two secretly pretend to hate each other online? everyone is dying to know!

You start reaching for the bottle but Scara yanks it away from you.

Scara: go on, answer it baby

You: do i have to?

Scara: if you don’t then i will

You: fine. basically i fell for scara before i knew he was a popular streamer, he was just a classmate from my photography class. the day after our first date is when i found out he was the balladeer.

Scara: and you continued to date me and not tell me you were my mortal enemy!

You: he’s still petty about this as you can see

when did he find out you were stardust?

You: a month later i think? after we went to paris for twitch con?

Scara: i need a drink just listening to this

worst thing you both experienced after doing your face reveal years ago?

Scara: no more alone time, i couldn’t even go for a walk without people recognizing me

You: also college was so weird after, i remember professors would play my videos after and ask if that was me. like obviously it is?

Scara: also so many photos, couldn’t even go to a public bathroom without people trying to photograph my dick

You: thankfully it’s died down since then

how often do you guys have sex?

Scara: it used to be every other day

You: but then we got real people jobs like acting and directing and now it’s less

Scara: a shame

most public place you’ve have sex?

You and Scara both share a look.

You: okay, i’ll divulge one place that’s not too bad. his trailer on his most recent project

Scara silently takes a shot.

have you ever considered breaking up?

This time it’s your turn to take the bottle away from Scara.

Scara: i wasn’t serious about it, but i have thought about it

You: tell them how many times

Scara: not my fault i have commitment issues!

have you ever cheated on one another?

Scara: they cheated on me with my alter ego

You: I TOLD YOU EVENTUALLY DIDN’T I?

what’s something about eachother the media wouldn’t believe?

You: he is so clingy, but it’s so cute

Scara: i am not

You: you’re literally playing with my foot right now

Scara: fuck off, and nobody would believe how kinky you are

You: i think you mean how kinky you are

Scara: and you’re into it so what does that say about you?

You: pour me a shot

how many sexual partners have you had?

Scara stares off to the side to count in his head.

Scara: 20?

You: the way you don’t even know

Scara: before you i just had a lot of one night stands, i was a whore

You: you still are

Scara: you’re into it

You: …unlike him i will be taking a shot for this one

have you talked about marriage?

You: tell them what you told me

Scara: marriage is a social construct, why do i have to host a big event and get down on one knee to prove i want to be with someone for the rest of my life? yn already knows i love them and now i have to get a ring and do paperwork too? society sucks

You: he’s insane, but we have talked about it

Scara: they will be proposing though

You: he’s such a princess

if you were allowed one pass, who would you sleep with?

You: wait, out of people we know?

Scara: Hm…say it on three

You: okay…1…2…3

You and Scara: Kazuha

Scara: honestly, i think he and Heizou would be down

something romantic your partner does?

You: honestly he has a lot…a recent one i found out about was when Scara buys me flowers he always keeps one for himself, so when it dies he knows when to get me a new bouquet

Scara: okay

You: awe look, he’s all shy now

how many kids do you both want if any?

Scara: i like kids but i want zero of my own

You: he compared it to a dog

Scara: that makes me sound bad! i said it’s like a dog because other people’s dogs are cute but if i had my own i would accidentally kill it

You: my blood line ends with me

if your partner was in a coma, how long would you wait for them?

Scara: a good year, maybe two if i feel like it

You: THAT’S IT?

Scara: …yeah?

You: offended you won’t wait an eternity for me and never fall in love again

Scara: my water bill will finally be normal again without you

You: such a romantic you are

how often do you two get into arguments? and what about?

You: not as much as we used to, we’re better at finding solutions and communicating

Scara: it’s usually about how busy we are due to work

You: yeah sometimes we go weeks without seeing eachother and it makes him cranky

Scara: one time they ran towards me at an airport

You: it was romantic!

Scara: i had to drop my coffee to catch you

something about marriage that scares you?

Scara pours himself a shot.

You: hey, tell me!

Scara: no thanks

You: Please?

Scara: …fine. just scared you’ll get bored eventually or realize i’m not the one

You: i’ll ever get bored of you!

Scara: we’ll see

has anyone flirted with you during a project? any fellow actors or directors?

You: sometimes people hit on him right in front of me

Scara: you’re no better, people hit on you more. literally just last week—[censored]

You: can you guys bleep that so nobody loses their job!

first impression of each other?

You: i thought he was the cutest boy in class

Scara: you’re fun to listen to

You: i talked a lot during our college days didn’t i?

Scara: you still do

You: wow…

Scara: didnt say i disliked it, idiot

one thing you would change about the other?

Scara: nothing

You: okay i feel bad about my answer

Scara: fuck you?

You: i was going to say i wish you were less of a workaholic!

Scara: i can try

how do your parents feel about your relationship?

Scara: thanks for watching, make sure to like and subscribe and comment down below-

You: sore topic as you can see

last one before we let you two go, something you love about eachother?

You: he’s going to take a shot

Scara slowly puts the bottle back down.

You: told ya

Scara: theres so many fucking people watching me right now

You: fine, i’ll go first. i like how he shows his love for me in different ways like a lot of people think hes really cold but once he gets comfortable he can be the loudest and sweetest person in the room

Scara: thanks i guess

You: look how red he is

Scara: do you want to die?

You: okay, my turn!

Scara: i like…how you make me feel safe

You: you’re so cute

Scara: die

You: i love you too

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

author’s notes — i thought this wud be silly so hope u enjoyed 🙏 almost free 😭😭

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks��which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

#behind the lens smau #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche smau #genshin smau #scaramouche x reader smau #genshin scaramouche

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m0chisenpai · 1 month ago

Note

Mochi what do you think about 90s model reader (think brandi quinones) and loumand (they 100 percent watch fashions shows in modern days)?

Its cannon that they like people who capture attention (*coff coff* lestat). I think they would meet her in a show and would send her flowers and letters to court her and all that jazz

Sorry if this is weird :/

vogue

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which your pefermonce off and on the runway catches their attention

author note: I ate this up so much, I literally scoured Pintrest and fell down a rabbit hole and have to fight every desire in my body to do another multipart series for this

The production people move like flies past your eyes while you sit in your regal beauty. Eyes unblinking, legs crossed perfectly, your hair now braided pulled up into a bun with a few pieces falling and curled.

You hold the hand of Armand, his finger runs over and over. You've come to learn this calms not just your nerves but his as well. Louis remains off to the side, he is weary of cameras these days. Preferring to leave you and Armand to such matters.

But when you pout those lips and flutters those ethereal eyes he relents to sit to the sides.

When the interviewer settles in the chair he has your attention and your back straightens.

"Runway, Vogue and Dior, red carpets, music videos. But your most recent appearance in the critically acclaimed rock star The Vampire Lestat's music video put's you back in the public eye when you should look much more...different." That breaks your picturesque facade with a light giggle that crinkles your dark lined eyes,

"That damned name'

'Calm yourself my love.' You catch Louis' fleeting gaze.

"How does the face of the 80s and 90s reappear in the 2000s rained in blood and completely untouched by age?"

"Hmm I think I have my wonderous loves to thank for that, there are only so many things that can hide the thief of the night that is time. But I seem to be lucky to have escaped its grasp." Armand places a languid kiss to the back of your hand while Louis raises his glass from the side.

"I believe the Gift only encapsulated the beauty she had from the moment we first met." Armand speaks up.

"And this would be during your rookie years as an athlete may say?"

"Yes at the beginning of my runway career in my early 20s, though I would not turn till 30. Around the mid 80s I was found by my lovely companions when I was at my lowest. Watching from the sides. And I did everything to ensure not to fall in love."

"Cheeky." Louis coos in your mind.

"Let's go back then, how were you back then? You say you were at your lowest but your face was desired by so many."

"Beauty, fame, money, sex is all so fleeting. And the fashion industry sucked every bit out of you till you were a husk for them to drag along until the needles and knife was needed to hide any evidence of your decline."

Armand will never admit it out loud but he was particularly fond of the 80s and 90s. He loved the fashions o each era, but he fell in love with runway. It was theatre in an entirely new facet. Louis can recall, though his companions face was stone cold, the glimmer of warmth in his eyes that watched each and every model. Catching every small finite detail.

Louis was more than happy to donate and invest in the ocassional piece for Armand who returned the favor. Until one evening they are encaptured by a beauty amount the sea of tall skinny legs.

This angel that graced the runway one evening of Paris Fasion week. It was dull, Armand confided in Louis as they dressed for the show they and and a few exclusive members were invited to.

One by one Armand began to count them like sheep until she entered. A sheer black tube tob pencil skirt dress with a billowy white blouse beneath. Your eyes are smoky and sharp and your lips a bright chery red. When you walk, you lack the stiffness the other girls move with, no no you glide. The runway is your stage, you dance so beautifully.

Armand sits up as you walk past. He neded you then, he neededyou now.

When you are off you brush past the fussy designers who bark orders in French that is too fast and English far too broken. All you care to know is you have a period of relief to indulge in a smoke and soon after a bump from one of your acquaintances.

You slump in your seat, a cigarette warms you up as you enjoy the momentary silence until you are up again. You grow tired, bored of this. You see it boiling in your eyes, past the makeup, the eye liner and rouge.

From your side one of the assistants carefully moves to your side.

"For you ma'am a gift from some of our most generous investors of the arts."

"M' not sleeping with them" you mumble around the still lit cigarette which dangles from your lips as you open the card tucked into the dozens of fresh roses.

"A rose for a rose." You grumble putting out your cigarette on the card and getting up to squeeze into the sheer scandalous dress though you would hardly call it that with the pièce de résistance being an intricate veil that twists and covers and is encrusted with diamonds around your face and binding in the back.

As you go to line up, standing still for any changes and a quick make up touch you are nudged to get in line. But a thought lingers in your mind.

When you walk you can't help but wonder, which one of you wants to sleep and tell the tale, hm?

"On the contrary my dear." You almost falter when you turn to walk back. That man's voice sends shives down your spine as you carefully make sure not to falter. "We would prefer to have you more than just in the flesh."

His partner to the left flashes you a cocky smile. He's lucky you are being watched otherwise you would have scowled.

"Aw, don't scowl like that chere."

They follow you to London. Your picture is in all the tabloids and paprazzi is stationed outside of your hotel where you quckly find the bar. In an act of defiance, and trying to add your flare, you stopped during midwalk to kiss the collar of your mysterious suitor leaving a perfect red stain.

Since then your manager has been bombarded with numerous calls for editorials, spreads, and interviews.

"Another glass for her please."

Your eyes cut to the beautiful man whose eyes look enchanting through the fog of smoke he carefully clows away from your direction. A black turtle neck tucked into a pair of slacks to battle the chill.

But no words can describe the work of art that are his eyes which stare deep into your yours,

"I don't sleep with fashion fanatics, not anymore at least" you mumble into the dirty martini before a new one is placed in front of you.

The corner of his lips twitch into a mix of a smile and a smirk.

"Nah I'm not into the whole art of fashion. Just a simple collector is all," he watches how your luscious lips leave a red imprint along the rim of the glass.

"Oh? And do I fit your collection?"

He hums, "I'd dare to say you outshine it."

"Let me guess," you rest your cigarette in the ashtray to give him your undivided attention. "Your wife wants to watch doesn't she?" Your eyes look pass his shoulder at the women and some of your fellow workers.

"Your far off. Got no wife, but my companion does enjoy to watch ocasionally." Louis leans forward, his chin on your shoulder and his cold lips touch your ear. "And he's been watching this entire time my dear."

Your head quickly turns and sure enough, a man watches at the end of the bar. A gass half filled, his both arms rest on the counter and his eyes remain unmoving on you both.

"Put her tab on my card will you?" Your mysterious heart throb drops a card that clanks and you catch a glimps of the name.

"Louis de Pointe du Lac" you read it to yourself as he stands to walk languidly to the man. Placing a hand don his shoulder and sitting beside him.

You should be unnerved by their constant appearances, but you enjoy this game of cat and mouse. Sharing words at afterparties, drinks at hotel bars, and one night together in the satin sheets of Milan.

Your room is always filled with flowers when you arrive. Champagne and chocolates await by your bedside. You never fail to find their eyes in the crowd, you dare to say this is what love must feel like.

You keep the notes and letters from Armand. His way with words are what bring the light back in your eyes as you walk and model.

Whatever it is, your agent tells you one day, keep it up. because you begin t see a spike in your career and appearances. Leading you to walk your first large red carpet event.

When you step out of the shining vintage car immediately you are met with flashes, clinging to your sur shrug for comfort imagining their arms as you walk and pause for questions and for photographs.

"Can we be under the assumption you have a special someone?" Your interviewer asks over the roar of paparazzi and photographers at a red carpet event.

"Hmm, I guess you could continue to speculate." You give a cheeky grin to the camera as you walk off with a flurry of questions at your leathered heels.

When you enter the museum hosting the charity event they await you. Your drop your shrug into the arms of one of the attendants while Armand takes hold of your clutch. You walk in between them looking at the beautifully restored and donated pieces. The theme is very rococo and you adore it, the artwork, pottery and ceramics and the beautifully restored gowns on display.

"Oh my goodness look at this one, it reminds me of a Monet" you coo as you stand before the water lily pond. Your hand on your chest as you pause. You wish it were yours. Though it is not the original you want it still.

And that's enough for Armand to place a red sticker near the artists name.

"Oh you didn't have to, Armand." you pout at him as he cups your jaw looking into your eyes.

"You clearly desired it, did you not?" When all you do is nod he hums. His thumb begins to stroke the soft skin of your jaw. "Then you shall have it."

"We would travel the cities I was in. And during the off season I spent here or in the comforts of one of our other homes. I believe Berlin will be our destination this year for the holidays, right my love?"

And how can Armand no to those eyes.

They gleam with mischief, golden flakes sparkle in your bright eyes. "Whatever her hearts desires I have assumed the duty to fulfill each ofthem, we both do."

You shush him, had you still been mortal you swear your cheeks would be flushed.

The interviewer

"But I believe this Gift would have to be my most treasured one."

#iwtv x reader #iwtv #louis de pointe du lac x reader #armand x reader #louis x reader #loumand x reader

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enwoso · 3 months ago

Text

PROUD OF YOU — alessia russo x gymnast!reader

little psa i’m not an expert in the format of gymnastics by any means, this is just from my knowledge. so if anything isn’t correct i apologise🙃

this was supposed to be a blurb from the same universe as number one fan but i got carried away and it turned out being 3k words… ENJOY!

read number one fan here

masterlist

you felt like your entire life had led up to this moment in your life, your first olympics. twenty four years old and you were fulfilling something only your eight year old self could imagine.

you remember watching the beijing olympics more specifically the gymnastics and you knew that was what you wanted to do, even if it wasn't to win while that would be an added bonus, just being there was special and something not everyone could say they had done.

you had spent weeks, actually months in the gym. endless amount of hours spent perfecting your routines and making sure they were perfect and showcased all of your best tricks.

however it was slightly bittersweet as even though you were training for your first ever olympic which was being held in paris, it had meant you had been away from your girlfriend, alessia russo for quite some time now.

only being able to see each other on the odd weekend when you were not training and she didn't have a match, an even still those days came far and few.

but still your relationship was as strong as ever and it meant the time you did spent together was cherished and never taken for granted.

you and alessia had been officially dating for a year now and how the two of you had met was in the weirdest way possible.

you first met when you were in london and you so happened to be in the same coffee shop, alessia with her clumsiness fell over the leg of your chair sending herself and her coffee flying across the room.

you immediately apologising thinking it was your fault when really it was just alessia and her two left feet. you couldn't help but be mesmerised by how gorgeous she was but the blonde had dashed out the coffee shop in shear embarrassment before you had the chance to get another sentence out never mind ask the blonde for her name.

the second time you met was funnily enough in a gym in kent just a couple weeks afterwards, that being your hometown but also alessia's. you knew it was the same blonde girl, how could anyone forget such a beautiful face.

you were the one that spoke to the blonde first, alessia of course having no idea who you were and not remembering you. her face only flushing when you mentioned her going flying in a coffee shop, alessia found it relaxing that you didn't have a clue who she was.

not recognising her for her football but instead just because she was a person. you never forget how shy she was as she kept stumbling over her words when she spoke to you.

as you both stood talking in the gym locker rooms, alessia stuttering out asking for you number when you were just about to leave. from that day you went on a couple dates, actually discovering who she was and what she did day to day and from then the two of of you had been in your own little love bubble.

those who were important knew about your relationship, the media had it's suspicions but you nor alessia ever confirmed the rumours that circulated.

"what's with the gloomy face" alice kinsella nudged you as you took of your head phones. alice being one of your closest friends in the team, she'd helped you a lot in the running to the olympics, herself already being an olympian helped as she had been able to settle your nerves.

a sad smile was on your face as you looked down at the text message alessia had just sent you, wishing you good luck and that she be watching. you not having a clue she meant literally.

you had it in your head that alessia wasn't going to be at the qualifiers, her schedule didn't line up and she had just finished her qualification matches for the euros next year and she had just flown out to spend a few days in ibiza with her friends.

she told you that if you wanted her to be there for the qualifying round she would be and she'd get an earlier flight from ibiza just for you but you had promised her it was fine and that she should enjoy her time with her friends as your girlfriend had promised you that she would be at the next round as she herself was more than confident you would qualify.

"just missing lessi" you mumbled, texting a quick reply before putting your phone down as alice nodded her head she understood, it was hard being away from those you love.

"i'm sure she's watching, just make her proud yeah" alice smiled as she nudged her shoulder into you again, a little harder this time as she held a smug smile. it drawing a smile from you as you shook your head at your friends childishness.

alice moving away to focus on getting herself in the right mindset as the competition was just about to begin, you slipping your head phones back in your head as you carried on the stretch.

the competition was everything you could have dreamt of, your first piece of apparatus was vault where you were up first your score being 13.833 which you were happy with, the next rotation came around and it was bars a piece of apparatus you were a little bit more comfortable on but a small mistake cost you a few marks but your score ended on a 12.833.

the third rotation was beam a peice of apparatus which was always daunting and slightly scary. it never got easier competing on beam but the routine went smoothly and your score came in at 13.500.

the final rotation was here and team gb were looking good for qualifying for team final, the last apparatus was floor and with a small step out the floor markings cost you but your final score came in at 12.466.

you had done your bit for the team and for your country. taking in every second of the competition the pure euphoria of being there knowing it would hit later on when you were trying to sleep. right now you were focused, praying the team would qualify for the team final.

just alice was left to do her routine on the floor and then you would know if you had qualified, it all felt in slow motion. she did her last move, stood tall and presented to the judges. coming off the floor and down the steps as you waited for her score.

you nervously looked towards the score board waiting for alice’s score to come through, standing next to your teammates as the judges took their time deliberating their decision.

12.733.

team gb were on to the team final, qualifying in seventh with a total score of 160.830.

you stood in shock of a second before turing to ruby and abigail. engulfing them in a three way hug as you were all in a similar position this was your first time at an olympics. “we did it!” you called out into the hug as a smile bigger than ever was on your face.

you moved over to congratulate alice, not only on the team final but also the all around final she had made. “well done alice!” you grinned wrapping your arms around her, hugging her tight.

“you too kid, your first ever all around final!” she smiled proudly as you froze. you hadn’t made an all around final. what did she mean.

“what-?” you stutter out as she pointed to the score board which was currently going through the gymnasts which had made the final.

“there look you goon!” alice pointed to where your name was, number 24. you had just qualified for the all around.

“oh my god” you couldn’t believe it, you turned to the crowd trying to spot your mum and dad who had been there watching. you waving up proudly as you held up a heart to them. turning back to alice who was still facing the crowd.

“y/n, look your mum wants you”

you hummed before turning around to look where your mum was in the crowd, her pointing towards someone next to her. your eye line following her pointing, looking up and finding their face.

“oh my god” you whispered yelled, your mouth wide open. your were lost for words but also had so many questions at the same time. how was she here? why was she not sat in the hot spanish sun?

“told you she’d be watching!” alice nudged you a smug smile, you knew maybe somehow she had something to do with her being sat in the audience watching but you didn’t care how little or how big involvement she had, you just wanted to be in your girlfriend’s arms.

“i- what- how”

“oh go and get your girl, you sap!”

the arena had already started to empty, so you found the nearest staircase you could making your way through the crowds of people still in your navy blue sparkly leotard and your slides. you smile getting bigger as you edged closer to being back in your blondes arms.

saying a hello and giving a hug to your parents as they congratulate you and told you how proud of you they were as you could see alessia stood waiting for you to get to her.

finally your mum let go of hugging you pushing you lightly towards your girlfriend, you sinking into her arms as you held onto the blonde tightly as if, if you let go she would be gone forever.

“i’ve missed you so much baby” alessia whispered into your hair as she placed a kiss on the top of your head. you couldn’t find the words to say to her, you had to much to say but nothing would come out of your mouth.

“i- how are you here? i swear you were in ibiza this morning when you called?” you looked up to her as her hands rested on your shoulders, as your were still wrapped around her torso.

“i’ve been here since last night, my flight was supposed to be this morning but i got an earlier one just so i could make it here” alessia explained but you were still confused as even though you only saw her in what looked to be the background of a hotel, you still remember seeing ella on the facetime call — so how was that possible?

“but you were with ella this morning?” you questioned, a slight crease in your forehead as a confused look took over your face.

“she’s in paris too, so is mary cause she’s just moved to psg” alessia continued explaining, you humming along but not having a clue about football but you knew that psg was a football team but that was about it.

“well i’m glad your here!”

“you didn’t really think i would miss the chance to watch my girlfriend compete in her first olympics!” alessia questioned as you rolled your eyes playfully. “and seeing you in this is a bonus too” the blonde held a cheeky smile as she looked down towards the stoned navy blue leotard you were wearing.

you slapping her chest lightly as she acted false hurt, you were stood face to face with your girlfriend and the one thing you wanted to do was plant your lips on hers, but you couldn’t not when there was stray eyes around.

not knowing who had a camera, and while you didn’t care about what media had to say. you didn’t want to be headlining at your first olympics for that reason if you could help it.

your parents had already left, you were meeting them for dinner later on in the day. “c’mon” you pulled your way out of alessia’s hold before dragging her down the stairs her hand held tightly in yours.

small complaints by the blonde that she was gonna fall, which didn’t surprise you, as you led her back down the tunnel in the arena and towards the small changing room where the rest of your team was.

you stopped once you were in the tunnel, allowing alessia’s arm to have a break as she’d been complaining you were gonna pull it out its socket, you were no where near she was just being dramatic.

you turned to look at the blonde as she placed her arms round your shoulder, there being a slight height difference between the two of you. she obviously being the taller one, only by a few inches though.

“forgot to tell you how proud i am of you” alessia smiles as you could feel your cheeks going darker. something about anyone telling you how proud they were of you always had an affect on your heart but her telling you was enough to make your knees weak.

the two of you had stopped again, this time you were only a mere few meters from the changing room, “my little olympian” her breath fanned warm over your lips as her face was inches away from you as she had backed you up against the wall.

you had been craving this moment, you had been away from her for so long but a need was now blooming deep inside your bones. a need to be pressed flush against her.

“kiss me then” you said a little bossy as you could feel her teasing you with how not only your bodies where but also how close your lips were.

alessia smirked slightly, bending her head and using her hand that has crept up to rest on your neck to pull you in and close her mouth over yours. the kiss was soft and slow, a gentle drag of her lips over yours. the sweet and languid stroke of her tongue when you opened your mouth and angled in closer.

the tips of her fingers grazed your jaw and then she was cupping your cheeks as your back was now pushed so you were leant completely against the cold wall in the corridor. tugging lightly at your bottom lip before returning to kiss you.

heat tricked thick like honey down your spine, your hands fisting the material of her expensive white top as you tugged her impossibly closer before you wound your arms around her waist.

you didn’t want to stop kissing her. you wanted to stay in the moment forever, you wanted to keep swallowing the sound she was making low in her throat until you were dizzy off it.

“i’ve found her!” you both pulled back as you glared at your teammates as she stood in the door way clearly on her way to find you but not needing to go as far as she thought, a teasing smile resting on her face.

alice had dragged you back into the changing room telling you to hurry as most of the girls were ready and that they were just waiting on you.

pecking alessia’s lips quickly you reluctantly left her hold, dawdling into the changing room to get changed alessia following close behind you.

alessia had been talking with the girls as a catch up while you got changed coming back out in shorts and a little top while represented how hot it currently was in paris.

your girlfriend sat in your cubby, you found a seat on her lap. alessia hands immediately finding there place on your lower back and thighs rubbing small circles in your thighs as she smiled at you, your teammates finishing up getting ready for the coach trip back to the olympic village.

"are you here for the entire comp?" you asked alessia as she grinned nodding her head, you pressing another kiss to the blondes lips as you heard the gags come from your teammates.

turning your head you see the teasing sickening look on the girls' face doing it just to wind you up. you rolling your eyes at them. "abi, ruby cover your ears for a second!" alice said as you sighed knowing she was going to say something she definitely shouldn't.

"thank god for them anti-sex beds in the village!" alice snickered as you flipped her off turning your attention back to your blonde lover whose hands had not left your lower back as she traced small patterns.

alessia sat with a smug smile on her face too, "she's so annoying" you grumbled resting your head on alessia's shoulder.

"good job we don't need a bed.." alessia trailed off as she whispered in your ear, your face going bright red as she kissed your cheek, her lips lingering near your skin for a split second before she whispered "i love you, and i'm so proud of you!"

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #england wnt #england women #enwoso

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moamidzyism · 7 months ago

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fashion killa (k.mg)

☆。.:*·ﾟwc 879 smut ౨ৎ minors DNI ˚⁺。˚ ୨୧ model!mingyu x fem!reader, oral (f receiving), one night stand, strangers to lovers [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

mingyu’s lips roam your body as he pulls you into his apartment. he closes the door and pushes you up against it softly.

part of you wants to take a break and glance around his luxury one bedroom apartment that had a one of a kind view of the city. but at the same time, another part of you just wants to rip his shirt off of his back. and mingyu is so desperately feeding into that part. his nimble hands are already unzipping your dress before you can realize it.

despite your silent pleas, he breaks away from the kiss, to take you in as your little black dress slides off your body. so sexy. he mumbles before you pull him back in to devour his lips again.

you aren’t supposed to be here.

your best friend pleaded with you to come out with her – it was paris fashion week after all. and she promised you she could get you into a really good party. so you foolishly followed her out in the most uncomfortable pair of heels you owned.

you really should have known how bad the party was going to be when you saw the promoter begging slightly intoxicated young women to come into the club. nevertheless, against your better judgment, you went in to find loud music blaring through the speakers and people literally standing on the dance floor. the two of you surveyed the area for all of five minutes before deciding to find something better to do.

but it turns out there really was nothing better to do.

at least nothing you could get into. it seemed like every party was invite only and two college girls with no connections, surely were not on the guest list.

you were going to give up and call it a night. but you found a club with a line that wasn’t too long. you waited until you made it to the front of the line, where your best friend batted her lashes at the doorman asking if he could just waive the cover for two pretty girls. you mentally rolled your eyes but it worked.

from the moment you walked in, you could already tell that this place had a way better vibe than the other place. you and your friend made a beeline towards the bar and bought your little overpriced drinks before heading out to the dance floor.

you remember making eye contact with the hot model from across the room. but you’re not completely sure what happened from the time you felt strong arms wrap around your waist as mingyu came over to dance with you, but that didn’t matter now. because you were here with him gently kissing down your torso. he stops when he gets to the waistband of your underwear. you feel a shiver down your spine as he kisses you through your panties. gyu, please. you whine. you feel his teeth graze against your skin when he begins to pull it down.

he kisses up your legs until you could feel his breath inches away from your core. p-please, you stutter.

what do you want me to do? his thick fingers spread your lips apart. his eyes are laser focused on you, watching you fall apart with a sly smile on his lips. he presses his finger into your soaked hole, ketting it swallow him. you clenched around him as he added another finger. you can’t even be bothered to think straight as he curled his fingers inside of you. he thrusts them in and out, fluidly.

your whines fill the room, your hips stuttering into his palm, desperate for him. i n-need you. you whimper. you need to feel all of him. mingyu pulls his fingers out and you almost cry at the newfound emptiness you feel.

but before you can say anything, his lips find their way around your clit. his hands trail up to your back and down your legs. you throw your head back against the wooden door and your hand locks on the back of his head, with your fingers threading through his hair. but his hair is too short and it’s just not enough for you. you pull him closer to you.

he chuckles against you, the vibrations causing you to arch your back. he takes this as an opportunity to lock your leg behind his back. he continues to bury his face in your pussy. his tongue enters between your folds eagerly. his nose is angled and brushes against your clit softly.

you grind yourself against his face, desperate to feel more of him. he grabs your hips more tightly,guiding you closer to your high. his hums vibrate against your core as you inch closer to your orgasm.

the room fills up with the sounds of your moans as his tongue fucks you right through your orgasm.

mingyu’s face emerges from between your thighs. he still grips onto your legs, lifting you up as he stands. he pulls you in for a long kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck for support, as you melt into the kiss. he finally pulls away from the kiss and you feel like putty in his arms. we should go to my bedroom, no?

taglist: @dearlyjun @bunnie-hq @honglynights @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx @leemoonna @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @buttrry @wayvisyummy @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie

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#fay's works #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut

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aliciavance4228 · 4 months ago

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The Iliad: Funny Moments

The year was 850-750 BCE. No phones or underwear in sight. Pants were for the uncivilized only. Unibrows were attractive. And then, one day, Homer decides to write the first Greek Mythology Fanfiction ever, called "Troy Story".

Here is a list of moments from the Iliad which I personally consider to be quite hilarious:

1. Early on in Book 2, before the enormous list of Greek fighters and ships:

Agamemnon tries to motivate/test the army by claiming that he's given up and they're going home. This backfires, as a stampede for the ships ensues.

In response, Athena comes down and gives Odysseus a pep talk. He promptly and unceremoniously takes Agamemnon's scepter out of his hands and runs around brow-beating and occasionally actually beating men who were turning from the fight. It all comes to a head when he takes the scepter and beats the crap out of the Argives' resident disfigured hunchback who was doing nothing but making jokes at the Argive leaders' expense. In fact, the narrative itself stops and mentions that the scene was so hilarious, the soldiers in-story were laughing raucously.

Within Agamemnon's speech, his roundabout method of explaining how badly the Greeks outnumber the Trojans: let's say they have a truce, and each side takes a census, and each group of ten Greek soldiers gets one (male) resident of Troy to pour their wine. "There would be many tens of men lacking a pourer of wine."

2. At one point early in the story Paris steps out among the Trojan soldiers, described as looking like a god, and dares any Greek soldier to come up and face him in battle. Menelaus steps forward to answer the call—and Paris promptly flees back behind his soldiers.

3.Menelaus beating Paris up with his bare hands, while the latter still has his sword. The dramatic way in which it's written makes it a tad more serious, until you remember that Menelaus is choking Paris with the strap of his own hat.

4. Throughout the book, the Greeks continuously throw spears at Hector, but Apollo just deflects them into his charioteer instead, before Hector just picks up another random guy off the battlefield. This happens numerous times throughout the book that it's almost a running gag.

5. The Greeks send an embassy to beg Achilles to come join the fighting again. At first he receives them in friendship, but when he's heard them out, he has Patroclus start passive-aggressively preparing a bed for the only member of the embassy he's invited to spend the night, to signal to the others it's time for them to leave. Thus proving that "it was so nice to see you, but wow, look at the time, we should be getting to bed!" is a tactic Older Than Dirt.

6. When Hera seduces Zeus to distract him, he describes how attractive she is by comparing her with some of the other women he's slept with. It takes about 20 lines in the original Greek.

7. During the battle between the men and gods, Artemis squares up with Hera after her brother decides against fighting Poseidon. You'd think Artemis, the epic huntress and receiver of human sacrifice she is, armed with a powerful bow and fitting the Action Girl trope to a tee would utterly wreck the seemingly frilly, stuck up, less capable Hera. Hera instead chastises Artemis for being a brat biting off way more than she can chew, gives her a verbal tongue lashing before snatching Artemis's bow away before she can get a shot off to give her a lashing with that. Artemis gets wailed on so badly she literally is sent running away crying home to her daddy Zeus.

8. One tangent mentions Hades making a grand entrance at Pylos, only to be immediately shot with one of Heracles' arrows, forcing him to abandon the fight and flee to Olympus to heal. Later, Poseidon makes an earthquake so strong Hades jumps out of his chair in fear that the Underworld will be exposed due to the quake.

9. Early on in the epic, King Priam calls to Helen to explain to him who is leading the Greek army - Agamemnon, Odysseus, Menelaus, etc - because Priam doesn't know who they are. The Greeks have been at war with his kingdom for nine years before this point. One would imagine who had such a role would be at the forefront of his thoughts or that he would at least bother to remember their names, especially since a Pre-Iliad episode had Odysseus and Menelaus before him arguing that Helen be returned.

10. After a long discussion of their ancestries, Glaucus and Diomedes shake hands and exchange armor as a pledge of Sacred Hospitality. The narrator notes that Glaucus got ripped off, because his armor was worth over ten times as much.

11. A wounded Sarpedon thinks he's about to die and begins giving Hector a Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie speech. Hector, who he'd been arguing with several verses back, runs right past him without answering.

12. The standard heroic epithets being used at incongruous times. Godlike Paris hiding from Menelaus, godlike and enduring Odysseus running away while Diomedes yells at him to come back, Menelaus being called "beloved of Ares" while Ares is trying to get him killed, glorious Ajax the Lesser taking a spill face-first into ox dung...

13. Menelaus is shot and wounded. Agamemnon immediately begins mourning his brother and gets through a whole speech before Menelaus can get a word in edgewise to explain that he's still alive.

Credits: TV Tropes

#greek gods #greek mythology #the iliad #homer

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starshideurfics · 4 months ago

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Thirsty Thursday - Ring my bell, part 4

Part 3

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, mdni 🔞

Steve and Eddie spend the late fall and early winter meeting up as often as they can to fool around. Eddie’s got his club and his band and his dealing at high school parties, while Steve has his job and Robin and the special weekly Scoops Troop hang. They still find plenty of time for each other, Eddie sneaking into Steve’s bedroom on nights when the elder Harringtons are in town, Steve arriving at Forest Hills minutes after Wayne leaves for the late shift.

Most days Eddie is too impatient to wait for Steve to wash off his blockers, so he usually greets Steve with a kiss, then drops to his knees so he can scent him properly. Which quickly becomes him peeling Steve out of his jeans and putting his tongue to good use. He’s so pussy-drunk by the time he’s made Steve come that it only takes a few strokes to have him shooting off in Steve’s hand.

After, Steve will shower, toss Eddie a washcloth for his own mess, and they’ll spend whatever time they have left cuddled up close, talking about anything and everything.

Steve tells Eddie about the weird things customers say and the games he and Robin make up to pass the time. How much his dad keeps pushing for him to apply for a mailroom job at his firm, and how he would literally rather eat glass.

Eddie will talk through the puzzles and traps he has planned for the upcoming Hellfire session, trying them out on Steve to check the difficulty—Steve even helps him build a puzzle around basketball, telling him, “Lucas will get it, don’t worry about them getting stuck.” He’ll do his reading for English aloud so it sticks better in his head, Steve curled up against his chest, struggling to stay awake. Or, on nights he’s feeling particularly brave, Eddie will pull out his songwriting notebook, and show Steve the song he’s working on about him.

They’re spending New Year’s Eve alone at Steve’s house—his parents are in Paris for the holidays—all of their friends thankfully busy so they don’t need an excuse to blow them off.

“Wayne working tonight?” Steve asks as he opens the door on Eddie’s smiling face, his cheeks pink from the cold.

“Nah, he’s out drinking with his buddies. Told me not to wait up. Told him I was spending the evening elsewhere, and with how much of your scent is in my room… He’s figured out I’m seeing someone…” Eddie looks at him with worry in his big, dark eyes. “Is that okay?”

They had both decided to be quiet about all of it: the whole scentmates-hanging out-fooling around-thing until Eddie’s done with school. But Wayne is important to Eddie. The warmth in Steve’s chest is back at the thought of someone else knowing, at it being someone who cares about his alpha. Having someone who will support them without making it a big deal.

Steve doesn’t say all that, just murmurs, “Yeah, you can tell Wayne as much as you want.”

“Thanks, Puppy.” Eddie practically tackles him in a hug, purring as he realizes Steve is already blocker-free for the night, and tucks in tight to his neck. “You should stop wearing them,” he mumbles, not even kissing his neck, but licking it, tongue stroking his mating gland over and over.

“How about you let me close the door so we don’t heat the whole neighborhood.”

Eddie giggles, but complies, allowing Steve to close the door and lead him to the living room where Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve is already playing on the tv, volume turned down low. “I wanna be able to scent you all the time,” Eddie pleads, tossing his leather jacket on a chair and plopping onto the couch.

“Then everyone else could, too. Pretty hard to keep things low-key if everyone can tell I’m the source of all the new scents on you.” And it’s not like Steve is the one pushing for their quiet arrangement; Eddie wants it too.

“Just want people to know you’re taken,” Eddie says softly, whining as Steve straddles his lap and pulls him into a kiss. “Don’t have to know you’re mine yet, just… Taken.”

Steve remembers then, the alpha who had seen his necklace at work a few weeks back and asked him on a date. Eddie had been back in the Horror section, and he’d heard it all. He made Steve come on his tongue three times that night, and Steve had honestly forgotten all about it.

“I could say the same thing,” Steve says, just as soft. He takes Eddie’s left hand in his, taps over his rings, and comes up short. The pig head ring is gone. Eddie doesn’t have any more sniffing to do. In its place is a bird with a forked tail, wings and tail wrapped around Eddie’s middle finger. “Eddie?”

Eddie looks down, smiles to himself when he sees Steve has noticed the new ring. “It’s a swallow. They mate for life, and they migrate really far, but they always come home. I don’t plan on going far, but I promise I’ll always come home to you, Stevie.”

Lifting Eddie’s hand, Steve places a reverent kiss to his knuckles, then he pins him back against the couch and melds their mouths together in a greedy kiss.

It’s easy to stay there, making out, grinding down against Eddie’s rapidly hardening cock, so Steve does, lets his body do his talking for the moment. His scent blossoms and mixes with Eddie’s, making the living room smell like a proper den, and he wishes with all his heart that they could simply have this all the time.

But when Eddie leaves in the morning, Steve will have to spray air freshener to cover over their mixed scents. His parents can’t come home to the house smelling like an alpha they don’t know, and he isn’t ready to have anyone—even Robin—commenting on his scent at work.

Steve pulls back with tears in his eyes, ready to whisper apologies in Eddie’s ear, but his alpha is smiling up at him. “It’s okay, Puppy. I understand, I promise I do!” Awkwardly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, velvet box. “I thought this might help.”

Eddie opens the box and reveals a tiny key charm, claw clasp at the top so Steve can easily clip it on or take it off his necklace. So his parents won’t ask questions. But he can have it any other time. Robin will give him shit about it, but maybe he’s ready for Robin to give him shit about it.

“I love you,” Steve blurts, snapping the jewelry box closed so his gift doesn’t get lost, and taking Eddie by the sides of his face. “I love you.”

Eddie grins, and guides Steve’s face down to his, foreheads touching as they breathe one another in. “Love you, too.”

part 5

#steddie #omegaverse #fanfiction #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #ficlet #stranger things fic #ring my bell #multiple parts

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macfrog · 1 year ago

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la petite mort sex on fire chapter four

bonsoir my children. it's your cool slutty daddy, ceo!joel, back for round two of paris trip. please enjoy, i hope this one causes less confusion but just as much heart failure as last chapter. love u guys long time. literally SO much. 💘✨💓

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you spend your second day in paris being spoiled by joel, who buys you anything you set eyes on. you’ve a treat of your own in mind as a thank-you, later on

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) another fucking confusing flashback, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, more obscene spending, sexy french speaking, sugardaddy!joel, BIG flirting, alcohol consumption, sexy lingerie, lapdance, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, titty appreciation, assplay, double penetration, dom!joel, softdom!joel, ripping of expensive lingerie (rip), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!joel, angst, themes of abandonment, fluff in the end i'm a romantic at heart

word count: 6.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first. “Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.” “Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?” “No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

The late afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. The wind’s picked up, too. You’re standing on the terrace of your suite, elbows propped on the metal railing, watching the light slowly drain from the sky, and melt into tiny twinkling headlights on the roads below.

Paris stares straight back at you. Melancholy, in this light. A little faded, worn, a washed gray as she loses her fight with the slow-setting sun. Your eyes trace the skyline, jumping from buildings to streetlights, following birds in the distance as they loop and soar over the city. Free. Held down to nothing, and no one.

When you close your eyes, he’s on the couch beside you. Blue-eyed stare cloudy, eyes puffy and red with tears he’s doing everything to hold back. Calling you sweetheart, telling you we can work through this. He’s got your bare fingers in his, thumbs running across your knuckles, rubbing circles around the empty space on your third finger. You have an impulse to stand up and walk out. You think you might follow through with it.

You don’t even hear him come in, don’t hear him call your name. Only feel when his arm snakes around your waist and he turns you to face him. Your eyes flutter back open.

“Hey,” Joel says, leaning back to look you up and down. “Nice robe.”

His fingers toy with the belt, thumb running across the soft terrycloth.

“You smell like whiskey,” you mutter, hands resting on his chest. You take a deep breath, pushing the relief you feel now that he’s back, down to the pit of your stomach. And then you finally look him in the eye. “How was Jean-Marc?”

Joel shrugs. “Same as usual. Wants to meet you.”

“You mentioned me?”

He bypasses your question. “Said I’d check with you, but he wants to have us for breakfast tomorrow.”

You nod. “Sounds like a nice guy.”

Joel grumbles, his lips tighten, and he looks out over the view behind you. You tilt your head and his hands take yours, dropping them to your side. His eyes fall low, past the tie he was just messing with.

“You gettin’ ready to go?”

“I was about to, yeah,” you reply, breathing a laugh when he starts to kneel in front of you. “Joel.”

“Mhm?” he asks, but he’s not listening, is he? His hands run up your legs, starting at your knees, and push the edges of your robe apart the higher they go.

“We – gotta – Joel,” you sigh, head rolling back, hands gripping the railing.

Joel’s lips part on your inner thigh, his tongue runs along your skin, trailing northward. His hands precede, pushing under your robe now to cup your naked ass, when he lifts his chin and glances up.

“Nothin’ on under it, baby,” he whispers, tsking. “’m I gonna do with you?”

“We have–” you shudder when his fingers move between your legs, “–to go get ready.”

“So go.”

Fucker.

You lean back against the glass, eyes quickly scanning the hotel in front of you, searching the neighboring windows for any prying eyes, but in the slow-moving blanket of dusk, mixed with your will to care quickly depleting, you find none.

Your attention draws back to Joel, whose lips run dangerously close to your center.

“Open, baby,” he says, and you don’t think about it. Your body just does what he tells it to.

Your legs fall open, head lulls to one side, fingers move through his hair. His jaw lowers, breath gently tickling your soft skin, and then his lips cup around your mound.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which quickly morphs into a moan, open-mouthed and broken, when Joel’s tongue sweeps over your clit.

“There,” you whisper, a little more serious than you intended, “do that – again.”

He obeys, wet tongue licking you again while his hands pull your thighs over his shoulders. Your weight shifts onto his body, back arching as he sucks on the sensitive bud.

Your hips roll, needing him a little more and a little further south. And he hears you, again. He takes a hand off of your leg, middle and ring fingers joining together to push up between your folds and inside you, dragging a whine from your lips.

“Yeah,” you moan, feeling yourself driving into his mouth and fucking yourself on his hand at the same time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbles, mouth preoccupied.

Your head falls back, body slung over the balcony, thighs spreading ever so slightly to have more of him on more of you. And then your head starts to dizzy, your body hums in pleasure, your cunt starts to throb.

But before it goes any further, he’s pulling away.

His lips leave first. Then he draws his hand from between you, sucks his fingers clean and stands. Is he fucking –

“– serious?” you ask, jolting back to life.

He smirks, tongue pushing around his cheeks. “Hurry up ‘n get ready. I wanna go down to the bar for a drink before the car comes.”

And then he’s turning on his heel, striding back inside.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” he calls over his shoulder.

Your hands hit your thighs with a slap. “Fucking…sadist,” you hiss after him, following him into the warmly lit living room of your suite and down the hallway to the bedroom. Trying to ignore the ache between your legs which only grows worse the more you move.

“I’ll take good care of you later, angel.”

He sits back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, nods toward the black dress you’d laid out on the mattress an hour ago.

“Go on.”

“Go on what?”

“Show me the dress I paid three grand for on you, instead of it laying on the fuckin’ bed.”

You roll your eyes and storm by him, grabbing the black fabric, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“’n don’t you think about finishin’ yourself!” Joel calls through the door.

“Fuck you!” you throw back, hearing his cocky laugh echo around the room.

You untie your robe in front of the mirror, letting it drop off of your shoulders into a pool of white cloth at your feet. Your eyes flit down your naked body – scanning from your shoulders over your breasts, around your tummy and down your thighs. You slip the black material over your head – a little stretch in it, just enough to mold around your body – and tug it down until it sits comfortably on your thighs.

The smooth skirt sits perfectly on your hips, curving around your ass and pulling in at your waist. You adjust the thin straps, fixing your breasts into place above a cut-out, just revealing enough. Backless, of course, straps crisscrossing over your skin.

It's skimpy, and it’s sexy, and it’s enough to make you look expensive as fuck and also make Joel want to rip it off of you the second you two make it back to the suite.

Enough to make him want to rip it off you before you’ve even left the suite, going by his reaction when you step out of the bathroom. He catches you in the mirror whilst he buttons his shirt, and turns, mouth falling open, eyes dancing all across your body.

You wordlessly sit, slip your feet into the heels you’d chosen, and fish the diamond-encrusted jewelry Joel had bought you from its box – pull the necklace around your neck, clip the earrings into place, and push the bracelets over your wrist. Then, you sling your jacket over your arm, and stand.

“I’m ready.”

“You…” His eyes scan down you again, settling on your chest for a couple seconds. “Yeah, baby. Give me five minutes.”

----------

The hotel bar reflects perfectly the intimidating grandeur of your suite, despite being a small room. It’s intimate, and pleasant, lit in a warm glow, and as you stroll in on Joel’s arm beneath a huge, ornate chandelier, you feel a smile pull across your lips. You’re not fucking sure why.

He leads you over to two heavy leather stools, pulling one out and waiting for you to hop up on it before he sits beside you. He orders two glasses of red wine, and the waiter craftily pours a small drop into one glass, setting it down in front of you and waiting for you to take a sip and approve before he pours the rest.

“Pétrus,” the waiter says, focusing intently on filling Joel’s glass. “Most expensive wine in France.”

You shoot Joel a look, but he’s already lifting his glass, glint in his eye. You hesitantly pick yours up and bump it into his, taking another sip.

“Good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.

You nod. “A little too good.”

He laughs. Then he nods at the waiter, who smiles, turns to you, and winks.

You smile back, a little embarrassed. “Merci beaucoup.”

As the waiter leaves you both, Joel turns, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. “Nice accent,” he says.

You scoff. “I hope it’s a nice accent, I studied it for six years.”

“Studied French?”

You nod.

“When?”

“High school, and then all through college.”

“How did I not know that about you?”

“It’s on my resume,” you say into your wine glass, “which I now know you didn’t read when you hired me.”

“Didn’t have to,” Joel replies. “I took one look at your pretty face ‘n decided you had the job.”

Him and his quick fucking wit. He almost catches you blushing, but you save it by shaking your head, and looking at the striped-wall room around you. There’s a framed picture of a horse on the wall behind Joel. Two men sit in animated conversation on the velvet couch below it, one of them clutching a wine that’s about to spill over.

When your eyes drift back to Joel, his are fixated elsewhere.

“Oh, be less obvious, Joel,” you mutter, corners of your mouth twitching.

“Can’t help it,” he finally draws his gaze from your chest, “they look so good. That dress is…” He shakes his head.

“You chose well.”

“Say somethin’ French to me.”

“Uh, no.”

“Uh, yeah. Tell me I chose well in French.”

“Tell me how the meeting went.”

Joel sits back, pushing air out of his cheeks. “Can’t do that.”

“Then no French.”

“Baby, c’mon. Just for me.”

You shake your head, pouting your lip. “Nope.”

Joel pleads a few more times, promises he’ll buy you more things, promises he’ll order more wine, even promises he’ll fuck you in the bathroom right now if you’ll just say one sentence in French to him.

You don’t relent.

Not until you’re a couple more wines deep, leaning into one another, your knees between his, pointing out other guests in the room and conjuring make-believe backstories for them.

“That one,” you say, hushed, shoulder brushing off of Joel’s, “in the corner, by the lamp. He’s waitin’ for a date, a Tinder date, who–”

Joel snorts. “A Tinder date?”

“–a Tinder date, who used photos of Cindy Crawford on her profile.”

Joel’s head tips back with laughter, his hand steadies himself on the bar. “If Cindy Crawford ends up walkin’ in here, you’re gonna be real sorry.”

You lean into his shirt, giggling into the cotton. When you lift your head, the two of you quietening again, you look into his eyes.

Blurry around the edges, a little too much wine in your system, you whisper: “Kiss me.”

Joel’s head cocks. He leans in, and you lift your jaw. His lips part, breath hot over your red lips, and he says, “You’re gonna get us into trouble, darlin’.”

“Je m’en fous,” you reply.

“Monsieur,” a voice from your right breaks between you, “your car is outside.”

Joel straightens up, clears his throat, and thanks the waiter with another nod. His palm runs along the bar toward your arm, which he takes, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, and he nods again toward the doors.

----------

Dinner was as fucking extreme as all of this has been. Food you’d never seen before, a menu you could barely translate even with language experience. Waiters who arrived at your table if you so much as looked up at them.

And more wine. A lot more wine.

You both stumble back into the suite, arms linked, laughter chorusing against the beige walls. Joel keeps a vice grip on your hand as you spin around him, wrapping you up in his arms when you’re close enough, and runs a thumb across your cheek when you’ve stopped giggling.

“That was fun,” he says, and you nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For all of it. I don’t even know what to say.”

He shakes his head in response. “You’re my guest.”

“Didn’t have to be,” you say, “could’ve brought Martha.”

“Oh, yeah, Martha. She’d be a fuckin’ hoot.”

He lets go of you, your laughter picking back up, and you split off. Joel wanders over to the minibar, and you…you wander off down the hall.

You’ve something in mind.

Safely in the bedroom, you slink over to your case and lift the bag you’d hidden in there earlier. You sneak into the bathroom, closing the door as softly as possible, and whip your little black dress over your head. You turn back to the mirror.

Same reflection as before. Same naked body. A little faded, a little unfocused, jewelry catching the light like stars in the night sky, but the same.

You reach into the white bag, like it’s a lucky draw, and lift out the soft black lace. One by one, you add each little piece – the bra cups your breasts, lifting them just the right amount. The panties sit on your hips, garter belt just above, hooked onto thigh-high, lace top stockings. And finally, the robe.

You tie it loosely at your waist, leaving it just open enough to reveal the balconette bra underneath. One last hazy look in the mirror, and you tumble back out into the bedroom and over to the door.

Your fingers clutch the gold handle, shaking a little. The cold metal bites against your skin, hot with adrenaline and determination. You twist, pulling gently on the door, and wander back to the living room.

The lights are still out, the room dark against the sparkling cityscape. There’s soft music playing, some seventies soul stuff. He’s on the balcony. The sliding doors open wide, sheer curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. His silhouette stands black against the glittering Eiffel Tower in front of him. He’s holding a whiskey.

You slip out from behind the door and let it close over gently, walking slowly across the soft carpet toward him. He can’t have heard you, you’re being too quiet, but he turns anyway, and spots you in the middle of the room.

His eyes rake down your figure, mouth falling agape. Whiskey almost spilling over from how limp his arms fall.

“Baby…” he whispers.

You take another step forward. So does Joel. Your hand reaches for the back of one of the chairs, tucked neatly under the dining table. You drag it along the carpet, setting it just in front of you, facing him, and stand back.

“Want you to sit.”

Joel nods, a voiceless Okay sneaks past his lips, and he sits back in the chair, placing the whiskey at his feet.

The song fades into a steady love song, string orchestra echoing in the background, slow, sultry. The smooth vocals fill the room, quiet and relaxing, and push you nearer him, rounding the back of the chair.

Your hands run over Joel’s shoulders as you curve around to face him, and slot in between his parted thighs. Watching as his eyes shift up and down your figure. Watching as his breath hitches, his chest shuddering anytime you move.

You’re ignoring the rise and fall of your own chest; nerves and desire and complete fucking disbelief at what you’re doing all fighting to break through. Your stomach is flipping, pulse jerking every time your eyes cross paths with Joel’s.

You nudge his legs open wider, lift his wrists, and place his hands on your waist. His fingers pull on the silk belt, loosening your robe until he’s slipping it over your shoulders, revealing every inch of lace and strap of satin to his lust-blown eyes.

“This all for me?” he asks, fucking…wonderstruck. His fingers dance along the garter belt, dipping where it clips onto your stockings.

You cock your head in a shrug. “You paid for it.”

He smiles. As if it’s Christmas and you just gave him the gift at the top of his wish list. And then you bend your knees, lowering between his thighs and dragging your hands down his front, stopping by his stiffening crotch as you go.

Joel hisses through clenched teeth, spurring you on. You palm him through his trousers, never touching his zipper, only letting him go so far as grinding his hips into your hands, before your palms slip down to his knees and you push yourself up.

Joel meets you halfway, leans forward to let your lips ghost across his. Your back arched, knees digging into the plush carpet, you trail your tongue from his chin down his bearded jawline, stopping when you reach the collar of his shirt.

And then you stand again, taking his hands and replacing them on your body. Anywhere on your fucking body. Feeling him on you is like feeling the soothing flicker of the fire after a walk in the freezing cold, and when his palms aren’t pressing against your ribcage, his fingers aren’t running between your thighs, that bitter cold bites back.

Joel hums, still taking you in through glassy eyes. “So…fuckin’ beautiful, babygirl.”

In response, you lift your knees, placing them one by one on either side of his hips. You settle against his body and push him back in the chair.

Your clothed heat lowers onto his waist, lace running across the rough fabric of his trousers, forcing a choked moan from your lips at the contact. Your skin alight, nerves burning with excitement and arousal, the slightest touch only fuels the fire more.

You grind down on him, hips rocking in time with the music. Letting his hands hold you around your back, letting him feel any part of you he fucking wants. His fingers knead roughly into your round ass, and he bucks up against your core.

You hover over him, running a hand from your stomach over your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits through your bra. And then back down again, to slip over the lace of your panties and relieve the tension there even if only for a second before you’re feeling down your thighs.

You link your arms back around Joel’s shoulders. “You gonna pay me back?” you whisper, head lowering to bury into his neck.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he slurs back.

You suck a mark into the hot skin, breathing against his pulse, “Think you do, daddy. You owe me one.”

His head rolls, bass of his laughter vibrating against your lips. “So fuckin’ slutty, darlin’. You want it that bad?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, lips still tight against his neck, fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt lower and lower.

Joel told Martha he needed you here only to keep him right. Make sure he got everywhere on time, make sure things ran smoothly. Drop off drycleaning, pick it up before he had appearances. Get him pastries from that patisserie he loves around the corner for breakfast. There’s an empty suite downstairs that he made her book for you – an almost three grand per night suite that you both knew the entire fucking time you’d never set foot in. All to keep up with the story.

The story that you’re here strictly on PA duty. Seeing him off in cars, making sure he gets back to the hotel at night. And that’s it. Not buying lingerie with his card, and putting it on for him, and mounting him in the living room of his suite. Not letting him slip your panties to the side and run his cock through your folds, balcony doors wide open, moans escaping out into the late Parisian night.

But now his hands are on you, really on you; strong, wide hands, slipping around your waist, pressing down on the lace of your lingerie, massaging the softest parts of your body and scooping under your ass to align you to his length.

And you’re letting him.

Your hands are sifting through his hair as he breathes you in, his nose buried between your breasts. Your back arches when he finally enters you, giving you what you need most in the form of his thick cock pushing up into your warm cunt.

Like there’s nothing new, or weird, or different. Like this is all you know how to do; all you’ve ever known about him. You’re not in the office; he’s not your boss. He doesn’t tell you to shred files or organize his schedule.

This is what he does. This. He asks things of you with his hands and you fold every time. He runs his lips along the curve of your breasts and peels the delicate fabric of your bra down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, flick his tongue across it until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name to the ceiling.

“Make yourself cum, baby,” Joel breathes against your hot skin.

His tongue is swirling around your nipple. Teeth grazing the pointed bud. He’s grinning to himself as he does it. He’s fucking lapping this up.

“So pretty when you’re wrapped around me.”

And then his fingers are toying with the clasp of your bra, and as you sink down over and over on his cock, he lets the cupped lace fall to the floor, lips instantly returning to their place on your tits.

You hold his head there, looking down and watching while you slowly bounce on his cock as he kisses, caresses, sucks.

The pleasure boiling between your legs starts to spill over, your body unable to take much more without releasing. And when Joel mumbles against your skin, “Can feel you, darlin’, squeezing me so tight,” you let go.

Your orgasm, nearly four hours in the making, rocks through your body in tidal waves, throwing your head back. Joel’s arms keep you safe on his lap as you writhe, gasping and moaning his name until you can think straight again.

When you come back to, he lifts you up. Carries you like you’re made of diamonds through to the bedroom and lays you down on the soft mattress, calling you angel, telling you you’re the prettiest fuckin’ girl he’s ever seen.

He dips his fingers and traces them along your panties, feeling the mess you just made, humming in amusement. He asks again if this is all for him and when you moan out a desperate Yeah, daddy, he tells you he’s gonna make you cum again.

He takes your waist and flips you over, propping you up on your knees in front of him. He peels the white shirt from his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the dark room, and asks if that’s what you want – to cum again. Yeah, daddy.

And when he asks who this tight little pussy belongs to, leaning forward to align with your wet mess of a cunt, your thighs spreading to accommodate the size of him, every fucking nerve in your body on fire: You, daddy.

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first.

“Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.”

“Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?”

“No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

Every fucking time. Every mindless, depraved time, you do it for him. Only for him.

You cum again on his cock before he’s even five thrusts in. His words send you hurtling over the edge by themselves; the massive dick burying itself between your legs is just a bonus – and something to let your walls clamp around when your back arches, chest pushes into the mattress, and your orgasm floods over you.

Joel rocks his hips slowly as you come down, cunt swollen and almost agony. His hands run from your thighs up around the globe of your ass, massaging gently. You push back, wanting more pressure from his hands, and his fingers slip against your tight hole.

You jut forward with a moan. A moan Joel knows all too well.

“Easy, easy.” He holds you steady, replacing his fingers against your asshole, pressing delicately. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathe, “mhm.”

“Yeah?”

You’re nodding, though you know he can’t see you in the dark.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” you choke out. Desperate. Depraved.

He lifts his hand and spits; you feel a bead of saliva dribble down your ass, only to be collected by the pads of his fingertips and dragged back up. Smeared over the ring of your ass, massaged into the sensitive skin around it.

“Daddy…” you moan, hips gyrating.

“’s a good girl,” Joel replies, “just relax, darlin’, you do that for me?”

You can hear in his voice he’s focusing. Eyes glued on your ass, watching as you open up around his first finger, pushing slowly inside.

Your whole body freezes as he enters you. Breath cuts short in your throat. Your mouth falls open, throat constricted around a moan.

“Breathe, babygirl.”

And you do. Well, it’s more of a gasp, a broken whine, and then a long, needy sigh, curled up at the end like it’s a request – a plea for Joel to keep going.

It’s tight. It feels…tender, and overwhelming, and good. More than good. Your hips move backward, pushing onto Joel; a swelling feeling overcoming you, the more of him you take.

“Good girl…” he whispers again.

You’re as fucking shocked as he is that you’re letting him do it – letting him slip inside both holes at once, exploring one while keeping the other content with lazy thrusts.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy,” you tell him, body urging him to fuck you again.

So, he does. His cock picks up speed, finger knuckle-deep, curling around inside your ass. You’re gripping the bedsheets, whimpering softly into them, feeling your stomach tighten as your third orgasm begins to rise.

“Keep – doing – that,” you utter as his hips collide with yours, his thick finger picking up pace ever so slightly.

“Such a dirty girl. So fuckin’ dirty for me. You do this for all of ‘em, baby?”

The laugh you breathe answers his question. No, you don’t fucking do this – for anyone. You didn’t know until five minutes ago this was something you were into. It’s Joel. He’s the only one who could convince you – whether through his words, his expressions, or just his fucking body – to –

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Know you are, pretty girl,” Joel says, “let me feel you. Cum all over me.”

Your body collapses when your high takes over. Electricity thrumming through you, contracting around Joel’s cock and his finger. He coos you through it, whispers words of praise and filth in your ear until you’re no longer screaming, no longer able to hold yourself up.

He slowly removes his finger, soaked with his spit. You whine as it leaves you, missing the feeling, but it’s not long before his hands are on you again, flipping you back over.

He drags the clothes from his legs and pushes you up the mattress, slotting between your hips, one hand coming down to grip the lace front of your panties. He rips it, tearing the material off of your body in one motion.

You gasp, equal parts aroused as you are fucking outraged. You liked those panties. You wanted to keep ‘em.

“Fuck, Joel!”

He pushes back against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to dot kisses along your skin.

“Buy you more, baby.”

“This whole getup,” you moan, “it cost you a grand.”

He lifts his head. “Well, in that case,” he kisses your collarbone, “buy you ten more.”

Your eyes roll back and your head follows, sinking deep into the sheets under your body. You’re sure you know where this is going, what he’s about to ask of you. You’re not sure you can give it to him. Three orgasms deep, you can barely feel when he’s massaging your sex, never mind lining his cock to it and pushing the tip inside.

“One more, angel,” he utters, looking down to guide himself through your glistening folds. “Just one more.”

“Can’t, daddy,” you whimper, but he pushes your thighs up, bending your knees. It’s borderline painful, the stretch you feel when he’s barely an inch inside.

“Yes, you can. Know you can.”

He could fuck you and cum himself without asking you to – and you’d be okay with it. You know it. He knows it. Just a few tight, wet thrusts and he’d be coming undone inside you. But he wants to do it together. Loves the way you feel when you tighten around him, squeeze him, draw his release out of him. Loves the way your voices sound together, the way you grip onto him and pull him flush against your body.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, too. The way he looks when he’s deep inside you, eyes shut, focused on nothing except the pretty noises you make and the sweet way you wrap around him, warm and snug. So you let him take you to the edge again, throw your arms around him, and fall.

Hard.

The shock of it surges through you, stars burst across your vision. You drive your nails into his shoulders, scream out into the night, moans mixed with curses and gasps and – fuck it – cries of daddy loud enough that the thought of a noise complaint at your door floats through your mind.

Joel lets out a deep groan when he cums, filling your tight cunt with his seed, face still buried in your neck. Your legs untense, thighs slip down his waist and onto the bed, your arms unlink from around his neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your skin.

You’re panting, chest lifting against Joel’s. He pushes into the mattress and rolls off of you, dropping in a heap to the bed at your side. You lay like that for a while, waiting for the fluttering feeling to subside, waiting for any feeling to come back to your body.

Joel pushes off of the bed and dips into the bathroom, still groaning anytime he moves. Water runs for a couple minutes, a gentle whirring as he cools his face and washes up, and then he’s back in the bedroom, sinking into the bed beside you.

He props himself up on his elbow and runs a hand across your damp forehead, unsticking your hair from your face. Intimate, vulnerable. You’ve slept together four times now, and this is the closest you’ve felt to him.

You push down an ache, different to the one he just satisfied – four times over. No, this is deeper. Somewhere more hidden. An ache for him to hold you, run his hands down your back until your body feels like yours again. An ache for him to take you in his strong arms and keep you still, keep you steady.

An ache that feels…dangerous. An ache you want to disappear. Now.

“You okay?” Joel asks, and you nod.

He studies you for a while, looking up and down your body, smiling to himself. This isn’t something either of you are going to forget for a while.

“What’s this?”

Joel takes gentle hold of the gold chain around your sweat-glistening neck, running it between his fingers until he’s holding one half of a broken heart.

“Notice you wearin’ it all the time.”

You take a deep breath before replying, watching as he looks at it intently in his hand. “My mom has the other half. It makes up a heart. We got ‘em when I was sixteen, right after…”

Joel’s eyes drift up to yours when your sentence crumbles. His soft gaze encourages you to continue.

“…right after my dad left.”

He almost winces.

You’d always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays meant Math, and Math meant two hours of sitting in total confusion, dodging your teacher’s requests for answers and counting down the minutes until class ended.

But your dad told you that you should do well in it, so you were trying. For him.

One Wednesday, Miss Pepperman handed out the results of the previous week’s test. You’d scored well, maybe not as good as some of the others, but decent by your own standards. You snuck the test paper into your bag to take back home, show your dad. Make him…proud.

When you rounded the corner to your street, his car was in the drive, trunk wide open. Suitcases inside. You caught him leaving as you wandered by the beat-up Toyota.

Your mom wants you in the house, he’d said, a cardboard box of files in his clutches.

You tried to ask what the fuck was going on, but he’d yelled at you and thrown the box into his back seat. And then you brought up the test paper, twisted around to fish it out of your bag, like some stupid C would convince him to stay. He yelled louder, and you disappeared inside like a spooked cat.

Your mom was on the couch, face in her hands. She lifted her head, cheeks stained with mascara and tears. As you sat down beside her, you heard the engine of his car roll away. You never saw him again.

You don’t tell Joel all of this. He doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t ask. Telling him about the C in Math risks telling him about the way your dad looked at you when you held up the crumpled paper, and that risks telling him about everything you’ve ever held back from saying to anyone, for fear of seeing that same bored, disappointed expression.

It feels like a hand you’re not quite ready to play just yet. An ace or two missing, only a couple of cards off of feeling confident enough to show him.

Instead, you shrug, and say, “That was…thirteen years ago now. And we just never take ‘em off. It’s like our little promise to, like…stay together, or whatever.”

He nods, letting the necklace rest back on your naked chest.

There’s something in the air between you. Quiet, unassuming. An understanding, though you’re not sure what of. But it feels comfortable, which you weren’t expecting when he asked the question. Nobody knows much about you and your dad – not even your closest friends. And here you are, naked and exhausted, letting the words tumble out to none other than your boss.

But he’s so blasé about it, so unperturbed by it that, if he hadn’t been the one to ask himself, you could mistake it for disinterest. He just listens, nods, and lets it pass over. Lets you drop it, when you’re done talking about it.

For the second time tonight, this time a little more sober but a little less guarded, you say, “Kiss me.”

And this time, he doesn’t ask you to speak French. Doesn’t make any witty quip, doesn’t warn you you’re walking dangerous territory. Doesn’t even hesitate, not for a beat. Just leans in, cups your cheek with one hand, and presses his lips to yours.

Warm, sweaty, almost quivering lips. Soft, and kind, and safe. You melt into him, wrapping both hands around his wrist, shutting your eyes and pretending just for a moment that you’re not teetering along a knife edge right now.

You pull back, losing your balance on the tightrope you’re walking, and Joel’s hand slowly drops from your face. His eyes ask if you’re okay, and you nod. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Alright,” he says, sitting up with a sigh. “You want a drink?”

You nod again. “Water, please.”

He strokes your thigh once and walks out of the room, leaving you in the quiet dark by yourself.

You bring your fingertips up to your eyes. Exhale deeply into the palms of your hands. Think about what just happened, and then tell yourself not to think much about it. Think about that fucking twinge in the bottom of your stomach, the one that felt like…yearning. And then tell yourself, fucking – order yourself not to read too much into it, or you’ll drive yourself up the wall.

Because the truth of it is: you’ve one more full day in Paris, and you highly suspect that what happened here tonight, is gonna happen all over again tomorrow. And that leaves room for that yearning feeling to come back. Resurface, like a silent predator in murky waters.

That won’t happen tomorrow. It can’t happen tomorrow.

You stand and throw that white terrycloth robe over yourself, heading for the living room.

----------

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months ago

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The worst opening ceremony ever

That’s because you’re looking at it all wrong. The opening ceremonies are incomparable, for a whole list of reasons:

The economic and financial situations, both in the country that’s hosting and for the entire world.

The country hosts

The creative and production teams involved in putting on the shows.

Geopolitical tensions and issues of the times

The athletes involved

You’re expecting 2008 production value in a 2024 world that’s dealing with different economic crises, two very significant wars with WW3 breakout potential, and a rising far-right/return to dictatorship. It’s incomparable.

You have to look at the opening ceremonies as their own standalone unit. And when you consider last night’s spectacle that way, it was actually a tremendous success:

Arson shut down most of the French trains and there were enormous fears of what it meant for the ceremony, but it went off without a hitch.

It rained the whole time, but all the performers still made good performances, no one was injured, and everyone made it.

Celine Dion made her first major public singing appearance while dealing with a huge medical condition. If you don’t know the significance of Celine Dion to the French or the song that she performed, then just be awed by her commitment to turn up, IN THE FREAKING RAIN, on TOP of the Eiffel Tower to perform. Who cares if she lip-synced? It was raining! She showed up anyway, with every right to demand the performance be relocated to the flat ground under cover.

The athletes all had a good time and were excited.

The cityscapes during the torch relay showed off Paris’s incredible architecture and skyline. Name any other city that can do that and have it be so meaningful.

The bells of Notre Dame rang for the first time in 5 years, they gave credit to all the workers and trades/crafts that have been restoring and repairing the cathedral, and gave an homage to the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

There was a lady in a croissant costume. A CROISSANT costume!

They had a choir of headless Marie Antoinettes accompanying a heavy metal band that was performing AT the very same prison she was held captive at.

They lit a piano on FIRE and floated it down the Seine while performing “Imagine.”

They acknowledged France’s bloody, violent history without it being preachy or sentimental. (Watch the LA 2028 ceremony ignore the US’s bloody history - I guarantee you it’ll highlight our melting pot culture but it won’t even touch on the oppression, slavery, Civil Rights era, or how indigenous peoples were treated, much like the London 2012 ceremony didn’t acknowledge Britain’s bloody history.)

They highlighted all the ways that French culture contributed to the global community; music, literature, love, fashion and Coco Chanel pink, Louis Vuitton, the Eiffel Tower, croissants, the minions, and French people’s contributions to modern sport (as well as foreign success in French sport).

The homage to Assassin’s Creed, the Phantom of the Opera, and other famous masked French figures in the torch relay and flag-bearers.

They had an opera singer dressed as the French flag singing the national anthem from a sloped rooftop over the stadium in the rain. I had literal chills, y’all. It can’t get more patriotic than that.

Organizers made statues of important French women to display during the ceremony and they’re DONATING all of them to Paris after the Olympics! I don’t know if you caught it, but the male-to-female representation in Paris’s statues is 4.5:1 (over 200 male statues, just 40ish female statues). It’s an incredible start towards gender equality in Parisian and French history that a lot of countries could take a note from.

Les Mis! Who doesn’t love a good musical interlude?! Especially one introducing a segment paying tribute to the French Revolution. (And I must admit, I’m now kinda expecting LA 2028 to have a Hamilton nod.)

The image of Assassin’s Creed with the dove wings behind her as she walked up.

All the athletes running together for the final torch relay - more chills! (Usually that doesn’t happen.)

Raising the Olympic cauldron by hot air balloon so everyone could see.

That amazing light show from the Eiffel Tower.

and so much more.

Yeah, the can-can line was sloppy and the audio quality was poor, the parade of nations took forever (they always take forever though) and no one understood the order they were coming in (because it wasn’t explained until *after* the ceremony that the upcoming hosts are also at the end) and there’s a ton people offended by the threesome and the drag queens on the grounds of religious morality (you can see my reaction to that criticism in the earlier post below), but overall, all things considered? Considering the entire 4-5 hour show, in the spectacle that is Paris, with a terrible weather forecast, in the unprecedented geopolitical times we’re in?

It was a kick-ass opening ceremony.

#olympics

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bellewintersroe · 7 months ago

Text

Okay this is part 2 from this anon request, which one of my lovely followers asked if I could do in the comments @beautifulbluejay <3

Easy Boys x Reader Headcanons - How They React To You Going MIA.

It happened just before his leave to Paris, in fact the reason Nix pushes his leave so hard is because everybody genuinely thought you had gone.

So the trip to Paris isn’t exactly a leave for him, he’s alone and just thinking about you the whole time.

Grief stricken- nobody else knew about your relationship considering it was fraternisation, so he literally feels so alone.

This one’s a lil different- but you’d be completely lost and track Winters down in Paris, all you’d need to do is ask Lewis and he’d probs blabber mouth it to you- although he does think you’re a little crazy because you’ve just gone MIA in the middle of Europe for almost a week and now you’re wanting to travel to Paris.

Anyway you’d get to the correct place, despite having a slight cut on your forehead and grazed knees you’re physically fine- but you get caught up in a German hospital during your time lost and it’s mf scary. You’re so lucky you’re still alive.

You’d knock on the door (assuming it was his) and when he answers it he kinda cracks it open only slightly, and then rips the rest fully open and has a literal heart attack.

“Dick?!” Your voice cracks and you’re crashing into his chest before he can even fathom.

“You’re- you’re here- I?” He’s overwhelmed, wondering if he’s dreaming or not until his arms wrap tightly around you, feeling you cling onto dear life.

Once the shock has worn off and tears were shed Dick can’t let you go. He’s slightly dizzied with practically the shock of his life.

When you’re sleeping he keeps watching over you, checking you’re real.

He can’t do enough for you, gets you food water (ofc), checks over any wounds you have, really talks to you about it- like Dick out of all the men seems extremely emotionally intelligent, so he wants to make sure you’re really okay.

“Just tell me and I can send you somewhere safer…”

“I’d rather just be where you are.”

Lewis Nixon:

After he was supposed to jump into Berlin and he only just made it out of the plane, he turned up to see the explosion right before his eyes. The Germans were shooting down the planes- including the ones he knew you alongside so many other flight nurses and young men were on.

Not only had it gone terribly- now his trauma of knowing you’re potentially gone makes everything 10x harder.

He’d not been able to see you much throughout the war, you’re often stationed in different areas, but he always worried about you, and just then he was so close to you, yet still so far away- it pained Lewis.

Replays the moment over and over again in his head, drinks more and more and as the days pass and he receives no letter from you or your company or family- he knows the worst is coming.

Asks Dick if he should write a letter for your family- he was there after all. Dick informs him it’s probably best to wait until he’s found out what’s really happened to you.

But the silence was screaming at him- and every time be see’s a nurse in a uniform near him he grows restless.

He’s walking near the hospital one day, where he knows hundreds of the prisoners from the camp are being treated. He watches from afar as dozens more of them pile out of trucks and vans, some of them unable to walk- the rest of them still being treated inside the walls of the camp.

He turns away when he see’s the nurses, feeling overwhelmed by the grief until he hears a quick, “Lewis!”

He turns around so quick, dropping his cigarette when he’s stunned by the sound of your voice.

Seconds later you’re running towards him, grinning and giggling. He feels his chest squeeze tighter and he’s practically scurrying towards your direction to embrace you in the biggest hug of his lifetime.

Holy fuck. Lewis thinks. Holy fuck, fuck, fuck. Thank god.

His eyes close and he squeezes you tighter, hand pressing to the back of your head as he attempts to calm himself down whilst you cling onto him.

He very quickly pulls you towards his lips, kissing you deeply, so needily, he doesn’t care who see’s.

Both of you keep talking over the top of one another, excited to be in each others presence again.

“But I thought your plane went down?!” Lewis doesn’t notice until you hold his hands that he’s shaking.

“No, we turned back miles ago, it was too dangerous- oh I’m so glad you’re okay, I didn’t know what happened to you.”

The feeling is mutual, and even if you only get a night to spend together Lewis makes it all worthwhile.

Ron Speirs:

This man is tense asf from the second anything happens.

“What happened to the nurses?” His voice is quiet yet sharp and quick. His hand grabs at Nixon’s arm, urging him to answer immediately.

“Uh, I don’t know. They were in the hospital that got bombed, we’re not sure.” Lewis sighs out slowly, clearly affected by the trauma, but he has no idea about Ron and you.

Ron takes it upon himself to literally do anything he can in his power to find you- ofc he’s worried about everybody else, but the two of you have been together in private way back since before you were deployed. His hearts in his chest.

“We got them all sir, but one.”

“Y/l/n. Where’s Y/l/n?” He attempts to keep cool but his heart is thumping, he has the worst sickness and he can barely hold back how he’s feeling.

The man pauses and shakes his head. “Don’t know, sir.”

The whole company is obviously in grieving, this is when he’s still part of D-company but he’s in misery- he breaks only when he’s alone and in front of the men he keeps an even more tough exterior than ever.

Truthfully he’s hard to be around, he tries to push you to the back of his mind, trying his best to accept you’re gone and that’s it but he can’t.

He’s in the infirmary one day, after literally being shot in the ass- he almost can’t believe what’s going on and refuses to believe it’s true. Ron for the first time feels weak and useless.

“Can somebody help?! Please!” A frantic calling from a more than familiar voice cries out as he’s laid on his side in the bed, curtains closed around his area.

This is the first thing that causes him to move. Ignoring all soreness (he probs just blocks out the pain) he crawls out of bed at the sounds of scurrying and desperate shouting of the medical staff.

Ron could’ve sworn that was your voice, and when he stands, opening the curtains and staring straight at you, he thinks he’s seen a ghost.

He mutters your name so quietly, but you look up, face dirty and slightly bruised and bloodied, uniform dusty with a GI woollen jumper hanging over your frame. Like you’re just looking at each other.

“Excuse me, please.” You’d just tell the medical staff, hurrying your way down the hospital, weaving passed people until you’re stepping closer and closer.

Ron’s breathing and heart increases in a state of shock and you nudge him back in, yanking the curtain shut before you just engulf one another in a hug.

“Ron.” You’d mutter through tears, he grips you even tighter, engulfing your smaller body. “I was so scared, Ron.”

He pulls back your face, his eyes wide and stunned before holding either side of your face and pulling you in for a deep, borderline desperate kiss.

It’s the best comfort either of you have had in days, and once your lips part you fall back into his arms.

He’s probably lost for words for the first few minutes, and he’ll become all teary eyes for the first time in front of you.

“Are you okay? What happened to you?” He speaks for the first time, checking over you worriedly after remembering you must’ve been in that shelled out hospital

“There was Germans… I took a patient and ran away in the bombings. We got lost- we only just got back here now. I don’t know if he’s okay or not.”

All he can do is comfort you and hold you close, still in a state of disbelief.

“Why-why are you in here? What’s wrong?” You’d eventually ask. “I was shot.” Ron spoke in a blasé manner. He didn’t care about himself, only you.

“Where?”

… “my ass.”

Babe Heffron:

Hear me out, you’re a little bit clumsy yet always careful with everybody’s life but seemingly your own?

Like you’ve been at war for 8 months or so and still Babe worries that you’ve stumbled onto enemy lines just because you went to find a man’s boots or something.

He looks out for you and takes care of you so much, like it’s so so sweet and everybody’s aware that you’re Babe’s girl, even if you keep it more or less hidden out of respect for the fraternisation rules.

Anyway, you’re assigned to second platoon & that’s how you and Babe got close initially, the second nurse was sadly lost, and ever since then in Bastogne, Babe has been extra worried that something might happen to you.

It’s the day after Jackson passed and everybody’s exhausted, even though they’ll be moving off the line, they’re all sick of war.

“Hey anybody seen y/n?” He’d glance around the room where she’d usually be hanging out when she wasn’t at the aid station.

“She’s not at the aid station?” Joe would ask.

“No.” Babe would frown, pushing himself up and heading out.

He tries not to panic at first, but admittingly he has an anxiety nibbling away at the back of his mind.

Something just feels off, you’re not at CP, at the infirmary, with the other nurses, where you’re billeted.

“Babe!” One of the nurses shrieks in surprise as he bursts into the house they were stationed in.

“Sorry, sorry. Anybody seen y/n?” None of them have, not since the early afternoon and it was nearing 6. Your duty ended three hours ago.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

(Okay this isn’t as extreme as some of the other cases, I wanted to change it up a bit)

20 minutes later he’s chain smoking like crazy, asking all the guys where the hell you were.

“Babe? What’re you yapping about?” Your voice appears, giggling as he snaps his head, almost doing a 360.

At first relief floods through him, but then he see’s your helping a limping soldier, bleeding just below your eyebrow.

“Jesus- what the hell?!” His voice raised, breath stuck in his chest.

“A little help here, Babe?”

After hooking up under the other side of the wounded back, he helps you both back to the aid station firing questions a million miles an hour in your direction.

“I’m fine, Babe.” You’d soothe. “What happened?! Where th’ hell were ya?!” He’d take both your shoulders, holding his hand over the cut on your forehead, in an attempt to apply pressure.

“Babe-” you’d swat his hand away, becoming distracted with the sight behind you. Clearly you didn’t realise how worried he was.

“Ya shouldn’t run off like that!”

“Babe-”

“Ya got me worried sick!”

“Edward! His leg is crushed! Let me go help!”

“Edward?!”

“Wait here, alright? I’ll be 10 minutes.”

Babe waits, watching you help some of the other nurses and medics with the man you both carried inside, tending to what looked to be a badly wounded leg. He grimaced and turned away, growing an even more profound respect for you (if that was even possible).

When you’re done you head straight back to him. “Sorry, Babe, his leg was so-” You go to hold his arm but instead he turns, engulfing you in a bone crushing hug.

“I thought I’d lost ya, never do that again.”

Finally, you’d silence and realise just how worried he was. He was border lining upset, his frustration had dissolved and turned into pure relief.

“I’m okay.” You’d whisper, leading him to the quieter area of the porch.

“Where were ya?” He’d glance over you, checking head to toe everything was okay, hands still on your forearms.

“I went to get some supplies, then I found him- his leg was stuck under rubble. I couldn’t just leave him.”

“What ‘bout ya head?”

“I knocked myself in the face, you know what I’m like.”

“Oh thank god, ya scared me, angel.”

Ugh he’s such a sweetheart, just apologise to him and promise you won’t do that again without telling him.

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers headcanons #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #babe heffron x reader

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