#black people hair salon
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#black women magic#black women#black hair#black hair is sacred#black people hair salon#hair salon#black beauty#black girl moodboard#braids
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As a Gévaudan Lycan, June’s design is supposed to give off an unknowable and melancholy energy.
Gévaudan Lycans are mimics, and their emotions alter their form, especially if they have little to no control of themselves when they shift.
The way June was changed into a lycan and her experience during first shift were extremely traumatic, and over time, her lycan form reflected her feelings of loss and self-loathing. She fronts as this charming and confident woman, while holding back her deeper emotions that eventually leached into the form that reflects her true self.
Fear, sadness, loss, and rage all mixed into this one entity she cannot control. Once a month, she's forced into facing all of those emotions, reliving that trauma again and again for nearly 30 years.
#so when people say they like her design#it makes me so so happy#I put lot of thought into it#as I really wanted to reflect a top very near and dear to my heart#which is the lack of access and resources for black women (especially queer black women) for mental health#there's this kind of cultural thing#where your hairstylist is also your therapist#and June’s design and lore is a reference to that culture#all these hardworking women in the community who will just be TALKING about their experiences at hair salons#it's cathartic but also like#it happens because of how little professional help is available and accessible for the community#anyway June is a big sad cryptid werewolf and needs to not be sad :[#she can still be a big cryptid werewolf but she needs lycantherapy#june kingston#strawberry moon
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examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk
#BEGONE!!! *wizard beam blast leaving a black smoking crater in the middle of the tumblr dashboard*#I think another downside to everyone doing everything on phone apps on shitty tiny screens nowadays is the inability to really see details#of an image and thus its easier to share BLATANTLY fake things like.. even 'good' ai art has pretty obvious tells at this point#but especially MOST of it is not even 'good' and will have details that are clearly off or lines that dont make sense/uneven (like the imag#of a house interior and in the corner there's a cabinet and it has handles as if it has doors that open but there#are no actual doors visible. or both handles are slightly different shapes. So much stuff that looks 'normal' at first glance#but then you can clearly tell it's just added details with no intention or thought behind it. a pattern that starts and then just abruptly#doesn't go anywhere. etc. etc. )#the same thing with how YEARS ago when I followed more fashion type blogs on tumblr and 'colored hair' was a cool ''''New Thing''' instead#of being the norm now basically. and people would share photos of like ombre hair designs and stuff that were CLEARLY photoshop like#you could LITERally see the coloring outside of the lines. blurs of color that extend past the hair line to the rest of the image#or etc. But people would just share them regardless and comment like 'omg i wish I could do this to my hair!' or 'hair goallzzzz!! i#wonder what salon they went to !!' which would make me want to scream and correct them everytime ( i did not lol)#hhhhhhggh... literally view the image on anything close to a full sized screen and You Will SEe#I don't know why it's such a pet peeve of mine. I think just as always I'm obsessed with the reality and truth of things. most of the thing#that annoy me most about people are situations in which people are misinterpreting/misunderstanding how something works or having a misconc#eption about somehting thats easily provable as false or etc. etc. Even if it's harmless for some random woman on facebook to believe that#this AI generated image of a cat shaped coffee machine is actually a real product she could buy somewhere ... I still urgently#wish I could be like 'IT IS ALL AN ILLUSION. YOU SEE???? ITS NOT REALL!!!!! AAAAA' hjhjnj#Like those AI shoes that went around for a while with 1000000s of comments like 'omg LOVE these where can i get them!?' and it's like YOU#CANT!!! YOU CANT GET THEM!!! THEY DONT EXIST!!! THE EYELETS DONT EVEN LINE UP THE SHOES DONT EVEN#MATCH THE PATTERNS ARE GIBBERISH!! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THEY ARE NOT REAL!??!!' *sobbing in the rain like in some drama movie*#Sorry I'm a pedantic hater who loves truth and accuracy of interpretation and collecting information lol#I think moreso the lacking of context? Like for example I find the enneagram interesting but I nearly ALWAYS preface any talking about it#with ''and I know this is not scientifically accurate it's just an interesting system humans invented to classify ourselve and our traits#and I find it sociologically fascinating the same way I find religion fascinating'. If someone presented personality typing information wit#out that sort of context or was purporting that enneagram types are like 100% solid scientific truth and people should be classified by the#unquestionaingly in daily life or something then.. yeah fuck that. If these images had like disclaimers BIG in the image description somewh#re like 'this is not a real thing it's just an AI generated image I made up' then fine. I still largely disagree with the ethics behind AI#art but at least it's informed. It's the fact that people just post images w/o context or beleive a falsehood about it.. then its aAAAAAA
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Love that my hairdresser experience as someone with curly hair invariably includes:
"Oh wow your hair is so thick! It's beautiful!" (Thins it out the first chance they get)
"Your curls look so nice!" (Straightens my hair in the blow dry)
Today the hairdresser refreshed my faux hawk, blow dried my hair with while pulling on it with their fingers and went "oh it's not so curly when it's short!"
Ma'am you just don't know how to deal with this hair type
#Matt has a life#Shit from home#Curly hair#Like PEOPLE#And in case anyone is wondering: black hair salons also don't work!#they're just as confused with my hair type but from the opposite direction xD
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Why are box braids so damn hard to do it yourself. I have a renewed and greater respect for my DIY people 💙
#i've never used box braids before but i really really want to try it at least once#even though i usually wear my hair down with the bangs#smth smth reconnecting with my heritage etc#also i feel like my hair is way too thin and slick for it. it *is* curly but not like my mom and sister's#it's a lot softer and thinner like my dad's. which i absolutely love because it is a lot easier to maintain but#braiding my hair like this will be a challenge. i know with the braiding hair it will be easier but. idk.#i haven't even decided if i will do it or not cus my hair is breakage-prone and i'm a bit fearful of that#but at the same time. i'd look so bomb.#a lot of people don't know i'm part black because i look VERY latina/desi (thanks mom and dad for the insane mix)#and idk. wearing a typical african hairstyle would be a huge deal for me ya know? i know this makes 0 sense for most of you but#aaaaa i'm rambling. calling out my ancestors for some strength because these braids are gonna suck the life-force out of me#(my wrists are already hurting and all i did was watch tutorials lmao)#(and no - getting someone to do it for me is not really an option. my mom's hairstylest would probably make us a discount#(she's from our former church and a long time family friend)#but i just don't feel comfortable with that and can't really afford it rn. plus i hate ppl touching my hair.#haven't been in a salon in many years - i cut my own hair)#so i guess i'll just learn? maybe ? idk thinking out loud here#darya talks to herself
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al things considered — when i post my masterpiece #1275
first posted in facebook february 25, 2024
joy labinjo -- "5 more minutes" (2021)
"i first started this body of work because i wanted to show black people in different kinds of spaces" … joy labinjo
"a good chunk of many black women's existences includes reclining on the chairs of black hair salons for several hours as skillful hands braid the hair and joy's latest artwork encapsulates this experience with incredible accuracy" … precious adesino
"give me just a little time all i need, is to have a little time, yeah baby just give me just a little time i'll take five minutes" … otis redding
"i'm really interested in portraiture, mainly because i'm very interested in people and their stories" … joy labinjo
"i first started posting masterpieces because i'm very interested in people and our stories" … al janik
#joy labinjo#5 more minutes#black people#precious adesino#black hair salons#otis redding#a little time#portraiture#people and their stories#al things considered
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makeup artist!armin…that is all 🫠
📝: black fem hairstylist!reader, friends to lovers, fluff to smut, praise, he’s also bi, alcohol use, switch!armin, choking, finger sucking, oral (a eating) missionary, cumshot, calls reader babe and my love
🎙️: I’m trying out something a lil’ different and trying to actually make my drabbles short so I hope y’all like it. Also I know like 3 of you might actually see this tonight but posting anyways bc I’m bored
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you never thought you’d see makeup artist!armin ever again..in the flesh at least. It’d been three years since you, him and twenty other attendees of one of the country’s most elite cosmetology schools had graduated as licensed beauticians. A majority of you had gone on to do extraordinary things with your newfound certifications…some working for prestigious salons, others starting their own businesses and continuing ones they were running illegally. But you and Armin? Leagues all on your own! Of course, the same could have been said when you were in school together. Seemingly attached at the hip and matching in both skills and wit. makeup artist!armin was naturally the talk among the class. The only male in a room full of gorgeous girls…chatting and keeping up with the conversations as if he were one of you. Offering advice on boyfriends and husbands, reciting the lyrics to every female rap song that played from the salon floor’s speakers as you all practiced balayage and full sets whilst the instructor watched. makeup artist!armin was a natural..able to analyze a face and turn anyone into the most beautiful version of themselves. Of course, it left much speculation on his orientation but when the question arose, his response was: “I like what I like, that’s all.”
with his fluffy blonde locks, warm blue eyes, scattered tattoos, including the pieces on his neck and hands…fingernails always donned with nail polish and sporting jewelry of some form, he was a dream. But it was him who was enamored with (y/n)..his girl to anyone who asked. Something you always figured to be a lighthearted inside joke, considering the number of empty, flirtatious passes you made at one another. Pretending to kiss, even allowing him to grasp your throat in the process because he’d only follow it up with some effeminate remark before you both broke into a laugh. “Armin moveee, you play too much.” “Babeee, c’mere. You didn’t have a problem last night. Why are you being mean to me?” But makeup artist!armin wasn’t interested in playing games anymore..especially when he saw you all over Instagram, going viral for your amazing work. Laying wigs, coloring, finger waves, silk presses..the works. You were the best of the best and people were dying to get a seat in your chair. Including an influencer with tons of followers and the money to burn, looking to get done up by the city’s finest for a club appearance. What you didn’t expect was the person traipsing behind her to be makeup artist!armin..looking even better than he had before!
“It’s been a while, my love. How are you? I see you look sexy as always.”
Hugging instantly as the excitement over took the both of you. makeup artist!armin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you styled the influencer’s hair, watching you two laugh and chop it up..joining in on the fun occasionally. Turns out he had been working with some notorious clientele, using his talents to earn quite a pretty penny and make a name for himself in the beauty sector. But the real conversation wasn’t done until after hours…when he’d finish up with your guest and you were closing up shop. The two of you would down some of the leftover shots you had with the client as part of her pregame whilst he decided to give you a complementary beat for old times sake…
talking about life and what it had been like since you left the academy. Divulging in juicy gossip about friends and old peers alike, work and what it was like having your entire catalogue on display for social media. Of course, what makeup artist!armin and yourself truly wanted to know was if there was a special someone around..
“Me? Nah, me and my ex been done. I don’t have time for dating..the money is my only love nowadays.”
“I feel that. All I do is work and go home.”
but he was hoping to change that last sentiment. Dressed in his black button down and slit jeans with silver bands on his fingers..he’d turn your face towards him as the guise of brushing on your highlight
“Y’know I really missed this, (y/n). I’ve been watching you and I’m so proud of what you’ve done. You’ve worked hard.” “Thank you, Armin..you’re always so sweet.” “Well duh, I’ve already told you, you’re my girl..”
makeup artist!armin couldn’t hold back any longer…bridging the gap of space between you two as the bright lights hung overhead. He'd confess that he’d thought about you everyday and wished that the two of you had kept contact. It was as if all of the sexual tension and feelings that the two of you had been harboring were just seconds from spilling over. Which only in turn led to you moving to the back of your salon, lips crashing together and tongues shoved into each other’s mouth as he mounted you onto a nearby countertop. Completely forgetting his masterpiece he’d painted on your face.
“Arminnn..”
“Shhh..it’s okay, babe. I know..you don’t have to tell me. I know you better than anyone.”
a statement that rang true when he’d pull you into a kiss yet again and clutch your throat as he’d done in a joking manner many times before. A movement they elicited a smile from you both.
“You still like that, huh? So nasty..”
“You said it..you know me better than anyone, baby.”
from your lips to your neck, he’d mark you with pecks, licking and nibbling at your ear as he whispered lecherous things; from how good you looked in the bodycon dress you were wearing to how he needed to hold it up while pounding you from the back..
“Mmmm..see, there you go playing wit’ me.”
“Spread your legs for me, baby and you’ll see how much I’m joking..”
leaving you with a heavy pat to the ass as he scooped you into his grasp and parted your thick thighs. Obviously much more fit than he was when you’d last saw him. makeup artist!armin tugged down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts as he planted a hand into your tummy..peeling your panties back with his teeth before diving into that dripping center. Wasting no time in lapping on your clit, gliding a finger or two in and sucking on your folds as if it were his first meal in months. He certainly was no stranger to eating pussy..regardless of everyone’s opinions on his sexuality!
“F-fuckkkk..Arminnn..” Pushing his head and shoulders back whilst still grinding on his mouth.
“I’m sorry, babe. What is it that you want? Because you’re realllly confusing me..do you want me to stop..or should I keep eating this little pussy until you come all over my face?” Laughing as he spat into your entrance and continued lapping. (Y/N)’s legs began to quiver, breath shallow and chest heaving as your eyes rolled back..you’d never felt anything remotely euphoric as this. He knew each of your spots, what made you tick and how to pleasure you. He navigated your body as well as an eyeshadow palette and like always, he wasn’t done until he was satisfied..
“Awww, babyy—don’t cry. I know it feels good but you’re gonna ruin your pretty makeup. Here..suck on my fingers.” That soft yet dominant taking over as he shoved two digits in your mouth. What followed was a trail of saliva and his tongue breaching your puckering lower entrance. Which nearly caused you to shoot through the roof.
“Look at that..now I’m in all your pretty holes, babe..I’ve waited so long to do this. Fuck..you taste amazing.”
you’d whimper and writhe around, grasping at the marble counters as that orgasm neared..he’d push those fingers in and out until splatters of warm juices hit his chin. “Sorry, my love..I hate to stop you but—” unbeknownst, he had been stroking himself through his boxers and was ready to let you get the real thing.
“If you want to come anymore, it’ll be on this dick. I really need to fuck you.” His voice was much deeper than before and you didn’t hesitate to let him inside. Pinning your legs back to the vanity, makeup artist!armin tapped that head and shaft against your folds before gently gliding in, keeping your eyes fixated on each other with his hand still around your neck. That fat cock splitting open your wet folds.
“Shit…your pussy’s so warm, babe. God, why’d you keep this from me?” But you were too in awe to answer..completely stuck on how big he was and how well he wielded it. Slowly stroking and rubbing your clit with the opposite hand. You were fixated on his gaze and sweet words, listening to him to praise you whilst he resided balls deep inside of you.
“Oh my gosh….’s so fucking big. Fucking me so good..” whimpering and barely able to fork coherent sentences. makeup artist!armin would chuckle softly as he watched it slide in and out, the bulge appearing when he sped up. “Damn, babe. I love this look on you…but I love even more how I look inside of you.” Pounding you into the vanity with his lips melded to yours.
“Ahhhh…yes, baby! Right there..’m gonna come.”
“I told you, if you want to, it’s gotta be on me.” makeup artist!armin would continue thrusting until he drew more splashes out of that cunt, making you squirt all over his torso and the countertop. It wasn’t long until he too was reaching his own climatic peak, burrowed over you with his face buried into the crook of your neck as he called out your name..whining about how badly he missed you.
“Oh God I missed you..I missed you so bad. Can I come for you, my love? Please? I’ve been so good..I waited all this time just for you..”
and it was no question that you’d welcome it..waiting patiently as he pulled out of you reluctantly. He’d spray those thick ropes of cum all over your tummy and even catch your face..
makeup artist!armin reveled in his latest and most prized creation yet. Laughing as those fluffy lashes swatted off remnants of his seed..droplets staining the glossy nude lip he’d just finished.
“I need a kiss after that. C’mere..” “Yeah, I agree.”
makeup artist!armin had long since dreamed of what he’d say and do once you guys reconnected. He was nervous, afraid that you’d reject his feelings but it was no longer a secret. That mounting love that had been festering inside of you both had exploded into a blaze of passion that couldn’t be extinguished any time soon. And now that he was back in your life, you’d never be apart again.
#cherry’s works ✦⭒#aot x black reader#black fem reader#black reader#black reader smut#armin x black reader#armin artlert#armin arlert#armin attack on titan#armin aot#armin x reader#armin x black y/n#armin smut#armin arlet smut#armin arlet headcanons#aot smut#aot modern au#attack on titan#attack on titan smut#aot#aot x reader#snk smut#snk armin#snk headcanons#snk x y/n#attack on titan armin#armin x you#x black reader#x black fem reader#cw smut
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MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader (halloween) 🎃
you prepare luke’s make-up for halloween night
warnings: just pure sexual tension 🫦
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"You´ll be taking care of me, little Red Hood?" Luke asked, sitting down on the wooden chair placed in the middle of the room at cabin eleven.
Your silk red skirt brushed the back of your thighs as you turned around, cleaning the last bit of face paint from a thin brush. "I will, Mr. Castellan" you joked.
The cabin is packed, like most of the time, but today was for a different reason. A bunch of Hermes´ boys were getting their make up done by you and your sisters, the reason? Halloween night. It was kind of a tradition for the Aphrodite cabin to help out with the costumes for the big party. And as much as a pain it is to help all the campers, you couldn´t deny that it was fun to pick out what your friends should be dressing out as for tonight and then doing their makeup to match the costume, and right now, it was time to help the worst breed; the boys.
They were men, therefore, they were basic, they´ve all decided to dress up as skeletons.
Soft pop music was playing inside the cabin as you felt a faint smell of cherries and hot chocolate. It was a comforting yet fun place to be at right now, like a beauty salon, but chill and without the white lights and burning chemical smells. More of your sisters were currently taking care of some other boys´ make up, painting their faces in black and white scary features that would barely make them look human at night, and now, it was Luke´s turn.
Luke´s face was already quite chiseled, like those marble Greek statues. You stepped back a second to take a good look at his face; sharp features, big nose, small eyes, plushy lips. Good, this would be fun.
"Alright" you state, "Just stay still and let me do all the work"
You leaned in slightly, starting to draw the outline of Luke´s face with a white make-up pencil. You and Luke stood silent, unlike the rest of the campers who kept on chatting and screaming at each other due to failed skeleton features. You planned on doing the simple; a white or pale base with black features like eyes, nose, cheekbones and mouth, maybe even some shadows, just like you did with Connor and Travis, who specifically asked for you to prepare them.
"I didn´t know you were so good at this" Luke finally spoke, anticipating to break the ice a little.
"What can I say?" you smiled, "I have many hidden talents"
You continued on, working in the lines, making the transition between the white and his perfectetly tanned skin. He was such a lovely canvas, his skin was clean, and smooth. You were actually a little scared to end up making him look bad. "Your jawline´s perfect" you muttered as you dragged the pencil there, more to yourself than to him.
Luke chuckled, "Is it now?"
You only dart your eyes away from your work to look into his eyes for a second, then back to your progress. Your teeth barely show as you smile a little, glossy red lips only shining brighter. "Okay, don´t get all cocky now" you tease.
Luke was used to flirting with everyone he met, and of course, people flirting back. But seeing you so focused on his face, the pen working on his face with you so close to him, gave him a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.
You felt so close. Luke could smell a faint scent of cherries coming from you, and the hairspray of your hair. He could almost feel the warmth of your body too, standing so close to him, your body leaning down towards his face, making him look upwards to take a look at your face. You hissed then, taking a soft grip of your lower back, "Shit" you whisper. You were uncomfortable, being hunched over for so long.
"You okay?" Luke asked.
"Yeah" you reply, "Just-, my back´s killing me. I´ve been like this for an hour" you explain, you´ve been in the same position for the past other two boys you prepared.
Luke looked concerned for a second. So he shifted on his seat then, opening his thighs, basically welcoming you.
You stood speechless, pencil in hand as you chuckled softly, unable to react, or move.
"Come on" he urged you softly, his eyes locking on yours as he patted his thigh. You knew he wasn´t inviting you to sit there, —even though he wouldn´t complain if you did—, rather than in between them. "I don´t bite"
You scoff then, shaking your pencil in between your fingers. Your boots step into the tiny space then, back straightened as you only have to look down to Luke´s face, "Sure you don´t" you reply.
He lets out a short chuckle, tilting his face up to maintain eye contact. The air feels weirdly tense. Your fingers take a soft hold of his chin as you tilt his head a little more up, dragging the pencil over the lines once again; just in case. Luke´s eyes remain open, taking a look at your costume.
A deep scarlet skirt almost too short paired with tall, heeled backboots and a white button-up that hugged your figure just perfectly, and the black corset over it did just the rest of the magic, along with, of course, the red silk cape and hood.
"You look great" he muttered out, trying to get a reaction out of you.
You stop your movements for a second, looking at him dead in the eye again, but with a serious face, only to go back to your job as if he said nothing. "Great doesn´t cover it" you reply, tilting your head slightly.
He chuckled at that. You had no idea how right you were. You were gorgeous in that outfit and he could swear you looked like a damn goddess, a vision come to life just to taunt him.
"Cocky-" he muttered with a playful smile.
"Don´t move" you interrupt, leaning down a little bit more just for a second, the thin pencil brushing past the outline of his lips.
Your face was closer to his now, the scent of his cologne made you feel lightheaded.
Luke had that type of aura; the one that was always surrounded by a nice scent. The type that made you want to lean in closer, the type that was warm and comforting, yet he was no sweet pea, but a little more rough. Manly, with his legs spread open like that for you to stand in between, or for you to sit whenever you liked.
And with his face so close to you, you made and observation; Luke was handsome.
Very.
Just when you finished tracing the outlines of his eyes, lips, and cheekbones, you turned around to dip a pencil into some black face paint. Luke remained politely silent, lips closed and hands over his thighs as he followed your every movement. He was watching you intently as you worked. You looked so focused and careful, like it was an important and serious job, and for gods sake, it was Halloween makeup. He wondered if you were just doing it so perfectly to impress him, which was working, and Luke had to admit it was cute to see you so fixated on his face.
He could feel his heart pound in his chest. Sitting there, having you so close, all he could think of was touching you. How could he not when you were wearing such clothes that he loved?
Of course he wouldn´t. He was patient, and he was very much enjoying the game so far. But you were so close , it was so tempting. And he did have a very bad self-control.
You took your sweet time blending the black paint over Luke´s face with a small brush. He was being an obedient boy, sitting still, with no smart remarks coming from his mouth. How rare.
He enjoyed just watching you, watching your expression change slightly as you applied more and more paint on, watching the tip of your tongue dart out of your mouth every once in a while. It was so hard to keep his hands tucked into balled-up fists on his thighs.
But he wouldn´t stop staring at you, your face.
But you stepped back, pencil on your hand and a small smile growing on your glossy lips, but your brows furrow. You were slightly confused. Luke stared back, not a single expression on his face. His face was sharp looking, focused, stone. And the black paint was doing nothing but only making him look more-, attractive.
"Don´t look at me like that" you smile barely, more confused than actually chilled about what was happening.
"Like what?" He asked, the black paint only remarking the scary and sharp features on his now painted face.
You looked a bit flushed, your makeup and hair perfect. But he wanted to mess it up , ruin it a little. He kept staring at you, not bating an eye. "Like-," you cut yourself off, turning slightly to the side to grab a different pencil before dipping it in more black face paint, "Like you´re undressing me with your eyes or something" you say, too shy to say the words loudly, stepping in between the space of his thighs again, too afraid that somebody else would hear you.
Oh, but Luke heard you just right.
He hums quietly, a smirk pulling at his lips at your embarrassed expression.
You´re standing there, in between his thighs again, and he has to force himself to keep his hands in place. He looked up at you, eyes focused on you as you applied the paint on him. And you were so concetrated on the task in front of you, on his face, you didn´t realise how badly he wanted you.
He was hungry, and it took every bit of his self-control to keep from touching you.
"Maybe I am" he responds quietly.
His voice is low, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. His eyes burn into your skin, like he´s daring you to respond, to say something, anything, back. And for the first time, you have nothing to say, no witty response. You just look back into his eyes.
And there is something in them, something that makes your heart beat faster.
He stares back, not moving, not speaking, and the tension is almost palpable. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry, and you try to ignore the way your body is reacting. Luke has never had this effect on you before.
“Perv" is the only thing you manage to reply, not even a full sentence, not even speaking fully, just whispering into his face as you go back to your task, you only wanted this to be over now.
You can tell by the way his shoulders are tense that he´s struggling not to move. But he doesn´t, and his silence makes your stomach twist and turn. You know he´s enjoying this, and the fact that he knows what he´s doing to you is almost enough to make you snap.
Luke saw the way he made you blush and trip into your own thoughts, and that was enough for him.
You remained awfully silent for the rest of the time, with Luke´s eyes still piercing through your soul until you´re done. "There" you say as you finish touching up the last bits of shadows onto his lips, "All done" you say softly, walking back to the small table to start cleaning brushes again.
Luke stood up, turning around to face you. His face was completely covered in white and black, his skin was unrecognizable.
He walked over to you slowly, and the way he was moving was almost predatory, like he was stalking his prey. You felt a shiver run down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The rest of your sisters and his brothers didn´t seem to notice a thing or even try to look to your direction, too busy invested into their own conversations.
You grab a towel, and you feel it-, oh you feel it. Like when someone´s standing behind you, the cold feeling that drips down your spine, ready to attack. Luke places his hand on each side of the table, his chest so close to be pressing to your back, trapping you against the table; and you couldn´t even see him properly.
"Just a question-," he says, clearing his throat briefly, "How effective is the make-up remover?"
Your breathing hitches for a moment. His voice was ridiculously low and whispery against you. You swallow, and the room suddenly feels too hot.
“Um-" you reply, trying to focus on cleaning the brushes instead of the man standing right behind you. "Very. It´ll clean right away, don´t worry" you reply poorly.
"Oh-. no, I wasn´t asking because of me", he replies, and he leans in a little closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You can feel the heat of his breath and it sends a jolt of electricity through your body, "I was asking for you. I don´t wanna leave any mark on your face after you´ve worked so hard on yourself"
Well, who would´ve though this guy was a poet? Hiding meanings behind words?
"That´s very considerate of you" you reply, trying not to sound too eager, but the way your voice cracks tells him all he needs to know.
Luke nods once, a smirk on his lips, and you can practically hear it in his voice. He leans down, his lips grazing the skin of your neck and his nose ghosting over the shell of your ear.
"I´ll make sure you find me", he whispers.
And with that, he steps back, his presence gone as fast as it arrived to the scene. Your hands tremble slightly as you finish putting the last brushes away, and your face burns hot. He had suddenly left you wanting, a feeling you didn´t even have when you first started working on him.
But you had to head back to your cabin now, and fuck-, were you mad you couldn´t get what you wanted now.
Luke surely knew he had started some type of game, your pretty little self caught in between his webs… but the night was only starting, and soon enough, you would be the one trapping him.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x female reader#luke castellan fic#luke castellan smut#pjo x you#pjo#pjo x reader#pjo series#luke castellan x you#luke x reader#luke castellan one shot#pjo smut#luke castellan x yn#luke castellan x y/n#halloween#halloween smut#halloween fic
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tw: black+trans death
from the_yvesdropper on instagram:
our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.
he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.
Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.
one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :
"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"
(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)
Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.
there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother
there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)
judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:
I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...
#op#rest in power#black trans lives matter#death -#black death -#trans death -#didn't add a tw to the top of this post at first. sorry everyone.
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Earth 42!Miles x Reader
The buzzing of the drill was soon drowned out by the shattering glass.
Summary: After a talk with Miles, reader finds herself at the nail salon. She was treating herself, just as he had requested. But that self care day soon turns into much more. Part 1. Here
Warnings: A little angst? Violence | Cursing | Some spice I suppose. | I’m gonna warn y’all now, I do not speak Spanish fluently at all, so if anything is wrong grammatically please correct me. | I’m actually thinking of making this into a mini series? Maybe a part. 3 after this. Also! Open to some title ideas.
Miles kept his promise. He sent her money to get her nails done. Which is why now she sat in her usual salon, her friend Roxanne drilling at her nails. The salon was hidden deep within the city, a little hole in the wall. With New York in shambles, people had to find some sort of way to feel normal. “What design are we doing this time Y/N? Freestyle again?” Y/N shook her head at her pink haired friend, causing her Roxy to smirk. “Oh, I see. What’s the idea then?”
“Was thinking of doing purple and black. Maybe a little green.” Those were Miles signature colors. His prowler costume consisted of different shades of purple and black, and she was sure her friend could come up with something good. “Hm, that’s new. Alright whatever you say.” Roxy gave a fond smile before getting to work. As she did so, Y/N found herself pondering on what to do after getting her nails done. Maybe go get some food, check on a few friends, avoid the crooks on every street. Possibly invite Miles over for a late night rendezvous. She sighed at the thought. She was completely smitten with the guy.
As time went by, and Roxy made quick progress, a low rumble began to stir beneath their feet. Followed by the loud roar of an engine. She traded a look with Roxy, who had a brow raised in suspicion. “You feel that too?” She questioned as the drill buzzed just above Y/Ns nail. “Yeah, what the hell is that?” She replied to the woman with dyed hair. It wasn’t just the two who noticed. Most people within the nail salon glanced around, concerned and confused by the sudden rumbling. The same rumbling that suddenly stopped. “Maybe it’s construction.” Roxy chimed, doing her best to stay optimistic. Then she got right back to work. The drill buzzed, shaving down the black base of the nail. “What’s got you so preppy? You still with that guy?” Y/N flushed at the question, her gaze averting from Roxy’s. “Yeah, we’re still together. He’s a really good guy, just really busy.” She fawned. “That’s good, glad you’re doing well girl. Was getting worried about you after the whole..” Roxy’s voice trailed off, and Y/N took this as a chance to cut in, “I’m fine Rox, he makes me feel happy. I promise.” She gave her a look of confirmation and Roxanne only nodded.
The atmosphere of the salon was pleasant, relaxing. She found herself spacing out, her eyes focusing in on nothing too important while she lightly bopped her head to the music playing in the background. Then the rumbling returned, and much louder this time around. It sounded close, too close for comfort. Following the noise, her eyes landed on an incoming cop car. She could barely make out the sparking metal of the rim where the missing tire was before the car skidded onto the it’s side and tumbled into the big front window of the salon. The crashing of glass filled the shop, along with the blaring siren and tumbling debris. Y/N ducked down at the sight of the crash, pulling Roxy along with her as the broken down car came to a slow stop in the middle of the salon.
Amidst the carnage, she could faintly make out the crumpled figure of a cop within the drivers seat. She had no clue who the guy was. In fact, she had no clue what was even going on. All she knew was the salon was in utter ruins, and the car was spilling oil into a large puddle beneath it. She felt overwhelmed by the sight. By the sirens ringing in her ears, by the smoke rising from the cars engine. “Holy fuck..Rox we gotta get out of here!” She half whispered half shouted. Her hand found Roxy’s, giving it a light tug as she led the shell shocked woman to the wide opening left by the car. “Hurry up girl..! I’m not trying to die here..” She almost hissed. As they made their way past the wrecked car, the smoke from the debris and vehicle flooded their lungs. Roxy began to cough, heavy and intense. This would’ve caught her attention if the incoming villain didn’t. He was large, bulky, and clad in dark angular armor. His aura oozed superiority, while his hardly visible eyes were stuck on the cop unconscious in the car. It would seem the armored man had a target. With this new found knowledge (assumption), she made haste towards the exit, somehow managing to slither out without catching the attention of the man in armor. “Rox..we gotta get out of here man. Before that big dude spots us..” She muttered as they hid behind large pieces of debris. Her eyes took a glance over the fallen pieces of building, the sight of the man approaching the car bringing a sort of relief to her. “What are you talking about Y/N? We can’t leave that cop in there. That guy will kill him..!” Y/Ns jaw slacked, shocked by her friends desire to rush into danger. “The hell are you talking about? We’ll be squashed like bugs if we go in there..” She found Roxy’s arm, and have it a harsh squeeze as she tried to get the woman to stay back. Though it would seem to be pointless. Roxy was already slipping away and sneaking her way back into the building.
Y/Ns hands found her hair. Her fingers tugged at the root as she watched frantically as her friend entered the building once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do. I can’t fight that dude he’s fucking huge..and I’ll be caught if I-“ She paused mid sentence as she came to a realization. And soon she was dialing Miles’ number, hoping that the fool would answer his phone.
“Please pick up..please..fuck.” Click, “Yeah, what’s up ma?”
“Oh thank fuck-“ A breath of relief left her now chapped lips, she had never been so thankful to hear his voice. “Miles, baby, you need to come quick!.. I was getting my nails done and then a cop car bursted through the damn window..now some big armor dude is about to kill him and my friend is trying to be a hero tryna save him..” Her words were quick, breathy, and frantic. And Miles immediately took notice of this. “Im..im at my usual place. Need you to hurry.” She whispered into the phone as she attempted to peek over to the scene that was unfolding.
“I’m on my way now.” Was all she received from her boyfriend. She wanted to respond, truly. But her tongue was tied, and her friend was about to be fighting for her life. Roxy had managed to get the cop out of the car, now dragging him out as quickly as she could, slippery streams of oil leaving a trail behind. “Cmon Rox..” She had long forgotten about her phone, and found herself at a crossroads. Should she help, be the good person she was raised to be? Or should she sit there and do nothing? She gulped, her hand visibly shaking around her phone as she mentally began to hype herself up. She had no clue what the rhino was doing this in the middle of the day, or any clue why he was only after the cop. But what she did know was that her friend was in danger. “Y/N? What’re you about to do?” She heard from the other side of the line. However, she didn’t reply. Instead she rushed over, still crouched down behind rubble as she made her way inside. “Rox! Rox..cmon grab his heavy ass and let’s get the hell out of here.” She cursed out as she found the man’s arm and tugged him away from the car, he was much more heavy than she had anticipated. “Thank you Y/N.” Roxy replied before tugging at the cops other arm. They worked to pull him out as quickly as possible, but the rhino took notice of this. His hard glare turned deadly, and he visibly uttered something inaudible to the panicking woman. “Hurry! Hurry!”
He growled, his head lowering as he changed positions. At first, she wasn’t sure what he was doing, and then she realized. He was charging, at them.
She dropped the cops arm and attempted to pull Roxanne off of the cop, her movements quick and frantic. And she almost budged, but it would seem as though shock had gotten to her, her grip unbreakable. “Roxy cmon!” She screamed, shrill with panic. They were going to die. They were going to die in a broke down nail salon because her friend wanted to save a cop. Y/Ns eyes slammed shut as she waited for the inevitable. Her breath caught in her throat at the incoming impact, but it never came. Instead the crash of another vehicle caused her ears to ring, followed by large hands shaking her out of her fear. “Hey. Hey you okay? Talk to me!” Her eyes shot open, her hands coming up to wrap around the figures wrists. “M- Mil- prowler.” She was absolutely relieved to see him, to hear that robotic filter on his voice as she stared at his mask. “I’m..okay..where’s uhm.” She took a moment, swallowing as she gathered herself. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her body was shaking with unease. She swallowed, spit wetting her dry mouth. Quickly she collected herself. “Roxy, where’s Roxy? And that cop?”
“They’re fine, but we gotta go before that dude wakes up. Cmon.” He said as he turned around and pulled her onto his back. She didn’t bother arguing, she didn’t have the energy. Somehow, Miles managed to drag all three of them out of the crash sight and far enough out of harms way. It was a dingy alley way, trash and other none-sense tossed around. Y/N was still resting on his back, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thought I was gonna die back there.” She uttered the words, but he heard them loud and clear. “Nah, I would never let that happen. You know that mami. I called the cops for your friend and that man. You’re coming home with me.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling, and she was perfectly fine with that.
-
Miles slipped into his apartment through the window, and trudged inside. He tossed his metal gauntlet onto the floor, his hands free to lay her onto his bed. The plush mattress underneath her body managing to relax her muscles. Miles didn’t join her in bed immediately. Instead he was packing his suit up along with his gauntlets, before stepping back over. Now in a simple black tank top and sweats. His gaze was soft, solemn even. His hand found a strand of her hair, fiddling with it as he watched her cautiously. “Wanna go clean up? I can start a bath or shower for you..” He asked as he took a seat on the bed beside her.
“Yeah, all this damn dust and sweat is gonna make me look a hot mess.” He gave a small chuckle at her joke, though he wasn’t all to amused by the entire situation. He figured it was best to get her comfortable before talking about anything. “Ight. Cmon then ma.” His hands went under her body, picking her up princess style and bringing her over to the bathroom. “I’ll bring you a towel and wash cloth, just gimme a sec.” He gently set her down, his hand lingering on her arm before he left only to briefly return.
“I left some clothes for you on the counter.” He mentioned before placing a kiss upon her forehead and departing from the restroom. She smiled, thankful for his presence. And soon she hopped in the shower. It was relaxing, the hot water pattering gently across her skin. The feeling of cleanliness as she washed the remainders of the day away.
Eventually, she was hopping out of the shower and putting the clothes he had given her on. It wasn’t anything special. Just a pair of his shorts and a shirt, but it felt special to her. Y/N made her way through Miles (Rio’s) apartment, finding her way into the kitchen to snatch up a few snacks. Thankfully Mrs. Morales was fast asleep in her room, so she went without questioning. Y/N made her way back to Miles’ room, entering and shutting the door behind her. His room was mature, calm colors, basic necessities. The usual stuff. Plus his punching bag that she played with on the occasion. From the windows opening, she could see the moons light shining through. She was a bit surprised to see how dark it had gotten. But, she had no issue with it. Not when she was still alive. She gave Miles a faint smile, “Don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful for a shower.” She chimed jokingly as she set the snacks down onto the bedside table. Then she plopped back down on his bed and wrapped herself up in his blanket. Miles was currently standing in front of his closet, fiddling with a glove from his suit as though he was contemplating something. This caught her attention. Sitting up, she sighed. “So, how exactly did you beat that guy?” She inquired, which caused his eyes to meet hers.
“Threw my motorcycle at him. Knocked him down long enough to get you out.” He said before tossing his glove onto his desk chair and making his way over to the bed. Her jaw was wide at his explanation, surprised at his confession. “Your motorcycle? Are you serious babe? That’s fucking crazy.” He only smirked as his hands intruded the blanket and his arms wrapped firmly around her torso. “I’ll just make another one with Unc.” His weight caused her to fall back on his bed, her head now snug in his pillow. His arms felt comforting around her as his head rested on her chest, his soft breaths managing to calm her down. Her hands found his hair, now fiddling with the ends of his braids. Sure, it wasn’t her first time seeing them, but she certainly thought the style suited him well. “I like them, they’re cute.” She said, which caused him to shift and rest his chin on her chest. He had a satisfied look on his face, one only a victor would wear.
“Knew you did. Mom thought they made me look weird, but eh, I think I like them.”
“Good, they suit you.” She nodded in agreement. They sat in silence for a moment, watching each other with gentle eyes. Her hands scratched lightly at his scalp, managing to make his eyes shut. It would seem that the only time Miles could truly allow himself to feel vulnerable, was around her. After a few minutes of pleasant silence, Miles spoke again, his tone much more serious. “Me dejaste preocupado mami..” He muttered, his words muffled as he burried his face back into her chest. This made her heart ache, her brows knitting with concern. “Mi vida, I’m okay now. You saved me..and my friend. Thank you.” He shook his head. “Next time you run. Call me, I’ll help your little friends. For now though, you’re my main priority.” He proclaimed before sitting up from her chest and leaning up to kiss her lips. “I’m serious Y/N. You run.” He spoke against her lips.
“Okay..” She mumbled, her eyes shut and her hands resting on his jaw. Her lips grazed his, the distance growing tantalizingly close. And finally he pressed back into her, lips meshing into hers as his hands traversed her sides. “So glad you’re okay..” He said in a hushed manner as he poured his love into every movement. His kisses slowly began to lower, finding her neck, then her collar bone, and- she hissed. Wincing beneath him, her body tensed and he froze. His hard stare lingered on her, awaiting a sign to stop or continue. “Sorry, think I got a bruise or something. You can keep going Miles.” He didn’t. Not there.
His hands found her legs, now pulling her thighs apart just enough to get closer to her. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the anticipation of what’s to happen making her giddy with excitement. “Relajate, Y/N. You’re tired and need to rest.” He said as he shifted them around, the two of them now lying on their sides wrapped in one another’s arms. This caused her to sigh, a frown on her face as she glared up at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You just went through a lot, don’t want you hurting yourself more.” He said as he tugged the blanket over their forms.
“Next time don’t start it if you’re not gonna finish it Miles.” She scoffed before scooting into his chest, his familiar scent drawing a small grin from her. “Who said I wouldn’t finish it mami? Just letting you get better first.” She could feel him smirk against her head as he rested his face against the crown of it. His words were enough to silence her, along with the sudden depletion of adrenaline. The two snuggled together, the soft blankets paired with the warmth of one another was enough to make them dreary. “Fine..Goodnight, love you Miles.”
“Te amo ma.”
Taglist? - @willowcxmilee @rinouko @chims-kookies @bbybubbles @supremeshrimpy2 @marice23top @korizzybee @otaku-degenarate @movie-enthusiast22 @corpsebridenightamare @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @marsbars09 @dystop4in14nd @ethanlandrysgf69 @mmxinne @brxght-world @rinisfruity14 @repostingmyfavs @sammarvel123 @idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy @frissy @d4ridi0rsworld @julie03 @sakura-onesan @oh-kurva (Yall I’m never making a taglist again 🙁 props to y’all who do bc this is too much work.)
#x reader#spider man x reader#spider man across the spiderverse spoilers#spider man across the spider verse#prowler#miles morales prowler#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42#fluff
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Queer discourse on this site of fun cause it just turns into mostly White Queers just saying the same things over and over and no one is capable of understanding nuance or willing to consider the others point of view cause they're more concerned with "winning" the argument. Which is stupid and pointless because arguing is for idiots.
Y'all know we're on the same side right? There's no point in having discussions over 'who the most oppressed' is when it's obviously black and brown queer people, especially transfem black women.
This is a fact.
Do y'all even remember back in the late 2010's when the only time "transgender" or "transfem" trended n this site was when another black or brown sister was killed?
Do y'all even care about them? I've seen tons of posts for Pauly Likens which is great, but where's the outrage for Shannon Boswell, shot to death in the street while police denied said shooting even happened? What about Tayy Thomas and River Goddard, just children who were killed by their partners? Where's your rage for TK Hill, shot outside his hair salon? Or Africá Garciá, homeless and shot to death in a dirty street.
Last year 320 trans people were killed. Three-hundred and fucking twenty.
Of those deaths, 94% of them were transfem/ trans women and over 80% were black and brown people. Many were sex workers or homeless. Lots of them were degendered by the media and police in death. Even more deaths are unreported either due to degendering or their bodies not being found. So many of these people (again, mostly black and brown transfem's) are violated and horrifically tortured by their tormentors.
If your discussion of transphobia doesn't include black and trans people, if you cannot recognize this simple fact, then you're no ally to the trans community.
Community means you look out and support those that are the most vulnerable; it means you show the fuck up and speak the fuck up when you hear racist shit. It means you ABSOLUTELY DO NOT call the cops on a homeless person, it means you look out for those that have less than you, the disadvantaged and disenfranchised. White queers have white privilege! We still benefit from our whiteness (especially in the US) so fucking use that shit!
Get your heads outta your asses and actually be a part of your community instead of whinging and whining and wringing your hands helplessly while ignoring the ACTUAL dangers trans people face.
I'm gonna close this with a quote from a friend of África Garciá that perfectly encapsulates how the world views transfem's.
“A lot of trans women are on the streets and are made invisible because many people believe that their lives are worthless,” LeQueen, a trans artist and friend of García’s, told the paper. “They don’t give them the ‘spotlight’ that they deserve, and those men take advantage of that. They think, If I kill her here, no one is going to care.”
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SOUL TIED ⤿ c. leclerc 16
→ ( in which. . . ) you, a firm believer in soulmates, find 'the one' though he doesn't believe in soulmates himself.
→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written
→ ( pairing. . . ) charles leclerc x reader gender not specified
→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) none!
→ ( author's note. . . ) had this idea brewin in my mind for a while. thought it would be fun to write about a soulmate believer and a soulmate denier. hope you enjoy! see end for more
→ ( masterlist )
you were a strong believer in soulmates. twin flames, soul ties, and the red string theory were a few you lived by. but, lately, you began to think that you would never find yours.
it hurt you deep in your heart seeing those around you fall deeply in love with their other halves, while you were stuck on the sidelines, waiting till yours came around. you wanted to scream and yell at the universe, blaming whatever higher power for the many failed relationships you have endured. it was like a stake was being plunged through your chest every time you saw healthy relationships. everyone had their person, so why didn't you have yours?
at the beginning, you were hopeful. thinking that your current boyfriend was the one. though, as time went on, you became less and less hopeful. you yearned to feel that strong connection of love, to feel your heart physically skip a beat and your palms get sweaty. to have butterflies flutter in your core each time you made eye contact. you needed your person. you wanted your person.
some nights you lay awake, restless and staring at the ceiling, wondering what your soulmate would look like. would they be taller than you? have blue, green, or brown eyes? blond or black hair; maybe no hair at all?
you were tired of the endless cycle; find a man, fall in love, find out he's not 'the one', and break it off. time was a cruel thing, and it was laughing in your face.
charles never really understood the infatuation others had toward soulmates. he never was able to wrap his head around the fact that people would dictate their relationships by whether or not their partner was 'the one.'
sure, charles might've been a little bit of a playboy. it didn't help that his exes were almost all a part of the same friend group. he couldn't help himself, they were all stunning. and, who wouldn't want to date an f1 driver?
if he was being honest with himself, which is a rare occasion, then he would admit that yes, he was getting upset that he couldn't maintain a long-term relationship. he was fed up with starting relationships and then ending them almost a year later.
truly, it was starting to affect his work life. he started to become spacy during team meetings, wasn't performing well in the car, and would give short answers during interviews.
charles wanted to curse at time and blame it for never giving him enough of it. he was getting desperate, he wanted to find his person.
somehow, by some higher power, or by just plane luck, you won tickets to the monaco grand prix. to say you were ecstatic would be an understatement, you were over the moon. you had been following f1 for a while, since you were a kid actually. you remember watching the concerningly fast cars went around the seemingly endless circle with your father. if he was still around, you definitely would have taken him with you.
charles nerve's were through the roof. yet another home race, yet more expectations to live up to. there was something special about a home race, but in the moment, charles couldn't think of one good reason about his home race being special. there wasn't an f2 feature race, so his brother wouldn't be watching. his mom got a sudden influx of customers at her salon, and lorenzo was with charlotte for a vacation.
standing in the starting strip was a surreal experience. never would you have thought you would be standing where the metal machines would be in an hours time. the area was bustling with bodies. celebrities, media personnel, drivers, and their respective teams were all around you. things were loud. you could barely hear yourself think. the ferrari cap on your head stood out against the dark navy blue of redbull. ferrari was a few rows back while redbull was at the front.
charles' mind was racing. so many thoughts at such a fast speed cycling through his brain. he was attempting to make his way to his car so he could complete his pre-race warm-up with his trainer, but he kept getting stopped. fans and interviewers wanting a moment of his time. he was heavily tempted to say no, but that wouldn't be good for his pr officer. so, he stayed. eventually though, he had to excuse himself. or rather, his trainer grabbed him by his arm and dragged him to his car to finish preparing for the race.
in the bustle of everything, you failed to hear the shouts of a certain driver's name. that is until a body collided with yours and two pairs of arms wrapped themselves like snakes around your waist. your cap was knocked off of your head and stolen before you could say anything. you turned to look at who kept you from falling and your heart immediately quickened. butterflies fluttered deep in your stomach and hands started to get clammy.
stunning hazel eyes lock onto yours. a hot pink blush began to run from your neck to your cheeks. brown hair perfectly complimented his features. a bright smile creeping onto his mouth. this was him, you could feel it. you didn't know why, but he, he was your soulmate.
charles didn't know the feeling blooming in his chest. but the moment he bumped into you, a million sparks erupted like fireworks throughout his body. it was like he was engulfed in eternal sunshine. he loved it, he wanted more of it.
mere seconds felt like hours, days even, of just the two of you standing there. the crowd disappeared. the track cleared, it was just you and the ferrari driver. you were too stunned to speak, and it seemed as though charles was as well.
he had never seen someone so beautiful. he felt a breath trapped in his throat, struggling to get out. the way your eyes stared at him through your long eyelashes made him want to crumble to the floor. much to his dismay, charles was harshly snapped back to reality when a hand slapped him on the back, making him remove his hands from your waist.
a faint pout settled on your lips, the warmth of his large hands lingering. he politely excused himself with a smile, explaining that he had to continue preparing for the race. you smiled back, understanding the rush to resume his tasks.
as charles turned to walk away, the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest was now wilting into a bitter cold. he was disappointed that he didn't try to make a short conversation with you, maybe ask for your number to keep in touch as he knew he would most likely never see you again.
you watched his retreating figure weave in and out of the mob of people. disappointment settled heavy in your stomach. the pout on your lips deepened as he got further and further away. you cursed yourself for not saying anything, being too starstruck to speak.
walking away with a heavy heart and even heavier feet, you make your way to the ferrari hospitality. the race was about to start, meaning that hopefully, charles would finally win his home race. you were rooting for him, truly. especially after your little run-in on the start-stop line.
after the race ended with a historic p1 result from charles, you managed to find yourself below the podium. seeing charles stand so proudly as his anthem blared made you smile.
suddenly while he was looking around, he locked eyes with you. at first you thought he was looking at his team who was just in front of you, but then he pointed at you, smiled and waved. a blush made its way to your face.
after the podium celebrations concluded, someone in ferrari gear approached you asking you to come with them. nerves radiated throughout your body, why would a ferrari personnel want you? they lead you through the garage and into the back by the drivers room. they then knocked on charles' door and left. you stood there frozen, not knowing what to do.
soft shuffling was heard on the other side of the door then it swung open, revealing the podium sitter that made you blush beyond recognition.
charles didn't know what came over him, one second he was on the podium pride swimming around him and the next asking his pr manager to find you. he knew it was silly, but he couldn't help it. you were beautiful.
that same feeling came back to him once he saw you standing in the doorway. he felt like a schoolboy.
"hi." charles sighed out. he wasn't really sure where to start, i mean, what much could you have in common?
"hi." you respond simply. a confused expression sat on your face, what on earth were you doing here?
a very awkward silence sat suspended in the air. you hugged yourself, a protective gesture that charles picked up on. he dropped his hands to his side, trying to open up the failing conversation.
thoughts were running through your mind. a nagging feeling clawed at you. you knew this was 'the one,' so why was it so unbelievably awkward?
"listen," charles starts, left hand out in front of him and his right rubbing the nape of his neck, "i know this may seem crazy, but when we bumped into each other before the race, i got a feeling that i haven't been able to shake away." he looks up to you trying to gauge your reaction.
you nodded before saying, "i know what you mean."
relief flushes over his body. his mind came to a slowing stop, he was glad you knew what he was talking about.
"i've been a stong believer in soulmates since i was a little kid and when you caught me, i don't know how to explain it, but it felt like the universe was telling me 'this is the one.'" you express. a blush began to creep up your neck, slightly dusting your cheeks in pink.
charles looked away shyly. you had described exactly how he felt when he prevented you from falling on the track. it felt nice how quick you were to understand, he was sure he sounded like a broken record.
"well then," he says "you care if i get you a new cap?"
whoop another fic done and dusted! trying to make a dent in all of my drafts :') anyways, if you would like to be on the taglist, comment!!! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)
#+*. 🗃️f1fnatic's archives +*.#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#f1 fandom#formula one#formula one imagine#f1 2023#formula 1#blurb#f1 2024#f1 fics#f1 fanfic#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1#f1 fic#charles leclerc#f1 x male reader#charles leclerc x you#charles lecrelc#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#f1 fluff#fluff
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forever yours: the series | 44
— series.
pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black oc, lindokuhle lee vilakazi
summary: work just never ends for lee, even during her down time but hey? more money and possibly more connections.
warnings for this chapter: cussing, outfit descriptions, social media.
saint’s team radio 🪽: first chapter! hope y’all enjoy 🤍
pls like, comment and reblog!
taglist down below!
dividers from @cafekitsune
ATLANTA, GA
The smell of hair straighteners burning through each bundle filled Lee with some sort of comfort, knowing she was going to walk out of this salon with a fresh do and a check on her maintenance to-do list.
It wasn’t that exciting of a race that she’d have to go to in a few days time. Austria. Not always the most fun of grand prixs but it fills a gap for the ever growing f1 calendar. She looked straight ahead at the mirror watching the hairstylist work her magic in the prestigious looking salon Lee had seen on instagram.
The stylists here were nosy, trying to be all up in people’s businesses including that of customers. Lee had no time to take no bullshit but she knew the lady was still working on her head, something she knew she couldn’t afford to mess up. Her phone became boring after some time even seeing a few messages from her assistant and her niece’s babysitter/ au pair.
“Hold up, hold up!” A voice yelled out in the salon with excitement in the tone. “Don’t I know you from somewhere, girl?”
Lee hoped and prayed that they weren’t talking to her. They couldn’t be. She wasn’t all that known except in the f1/sports community. “Yeah, you look real familiar, girl!” And in the corner of her eye, she saw another hairstylist plop down on the seat next to her with the biggest grin on her face. “Kya! Remember that girl I showed you with that fine ass man two weeks ago?” The lady shouted over to someone else.
Oh God. Lee immediately knew what this was about. It’s all anyone recognised her for the past few weeks. During the week of the Canadian Grand Prix, someone compiled a bunch of vids that included Lee and the sport’s greatest, Lewis Hamilton lookin cozy. First, it was the camera pointed to Lee during the race and of course she had to admit, her makeup looked good that day.
Then it was when a couple of fans saw them walking together through the paddock to their respective cars, laughing and a hug that lasted a little longer than usual and that had the internet going ballistic.
Forcing a smile, Lee gathered the energy to speak when the lady was done speaking. “Yeah! That’s her! That nigga looked rich, girl. That’s your man or what because if not, a sister could use a little lovin.” The woman laughed, causing a ripple effect in the salon, hairstylists and patrons alike.
To be messy or to not be messy? It’s not like she’s ever going to see these people ever again.
“We’re not a thing. He’s just a close friend but if you want, I’ll put in a good word for ya.” Lee spoke, already feeling the heat of the hot comb a little too close to her scalp through the wig cap.
The woman stared at her then smiled. “You a real one! And your accent is cute as hell.” She got up and left Lee’s side to her other friends and Lee sighed in relief. She’s been asked that very question one too many times in the past few weeks.
Sitting for another 30 minutes, Lee finally got up, paid and left the salon feeling all brand new. Of course she spared smiles and laughs with the hairstylists but she’s never wanted to get out of there quicker. The noise and heat was just overstimulating her senses. She still tipped though, you don’t get champagne at every hair salon.
“Yes, Santana?” Lee answered the phone, settling into her car seat of her rental. She’ll admit it, she did splurge on the rental but it’s not like she had anything to lose. Although the Maybach did fuel some unnecessary rumours.
“Lee, oh my goodness! I’ve been trying to reach you. Anyways, Lewis’ publicist and I were speaking and he’d like for you to speak in his segment for Drive to Survive in Austria. He arranged a whole thing.” Santana spoke through the phone, sounding like she was in the city.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she thought over of it for a second. “You know what? Sure. I know there’s gonna be a bit of a schedule change though for me, right?” Lee asked, fastening her seatbelt and connecting her phone to the car speaker so she could pull out of the parking space.
“Yeah, you’d be missing that SkySports segment with Danica about Red Bull and VCARB. So it’s all up to you-”
“Absolutely cancel that shit. I’ll speak to Lewis more about the deets but thank you, Santana. See you at the airport, yeah?” She turned into a drive thru of some fast food restaurant, she was too hungry to even focus.
The two wrapped up the convo and within 10 minutes, Lee got her food. Deciding to not eat in the car, she sped through to her airbnb and hopped out. Setting her phone on the kitchen island, she facetimed Lewis rather so she could eat.
“You still in Spain? I know those clouds from anywhere.” She joked once the call connected and she could see his confused face pop up on the screen. “Matter of fact, I’m in London but I’ll let you have that one.” Lewis smiled, finding a spot to sit down so he could have her whole attention.
“Listen, I’m hearing that you wanted me to speak with Netflix?” Lee unpacked her food order and laid it out in front of her.
He furrowed his eyebrows a bit before realising what she was talking about. “Oh um, yeah. Wanted to get through to you professionally and all that. Need someone on my side, y’know?” He cleared his throat, making his voice slightly raspy.
“My whole career is based around supporting you, Lewis. So I don’t mind, you know I got it. They want me to say some shit about your move to Ferrari?” Lee looked at the screen as she drank her soda.
Lewis nodded, his eyes slightly squinted under his cap. “I know it’s been a recurring topic but I just wanted someone who’ll be positive all the way through the segment.” He scratched his beard.
“Okay, no problem. I’ll talk to those directors then because they tried to talk to me earlier. You know I was supposed to work with Danicka before I heard of your thing?” Lee chuckled in disbelief, biting into a spoonful her grilled chicken bowl.
“You look good.” He spoke, smiling when he saw her being taken aback at his compliment. “Thank you? I got my hair done today, this is what Austria will see on their screens. But did you hear what I said?” Lee raised her eyebrow at the man.
Lewis chuckled before answering. “I heard, love but I don’t want to talk about her or any of them. Tell me, how are you getting to Austria?”
Pausing her hand on the spoon, she looked at him. “No, Lewis, I will not be flying with you. We’ve already got enough rumours as it is. Plus, I don’t wanna step on nobody’s toes.” Lee went back to stabbing through her food.
“Should I ask you again? I rather like the back and forth with you.” Lewis giggled, seeing her eyes dart to the screen once again. “Whatever you say, I’ll just smile and nod.”
She rolled her eyes. He was unbelievable. “Whatever you say, Mr Hamilton. I’ll see you in Austria next week.” Lee smiled, eating another spoonful of her food. He sighed and now it was his turn to roll his eyes at her stubbornness.
The two continued speaking on the Netflix interviews and how the directors would twist their words for the sake of good television. The conversation didn’t last too long because Lewis had other things to tend to whilst Lee would appreciate eating her lunch peacefully without him teasing her about looking like a chipmunk while she had food in her mouth.
-
RED BULL RING, AUSTRIA
Her heels were surprisingly comfortable for their first wear. The small chair that Netflix provided was a bit cold but luckily she didn’t have to be there for too long before she returned to SkySports to film something within the paddock.
The film crew assistant’s hands were shaking as he tried to mic Lee up. Because of how much time it took to get the mic strapped, some people got the nerve to walk up to her in her most peaceful time in the paddock.
“You know, I’ve always thought you looked super intimidating with your heels on! Like you’re a villain or something.” A loud, agitating voice with a side of clacking sandals invaded her personal space even more than the man strapping up the mic on her back.
Sighing and rolling her eyes, Lee gave Danicka a sharp look, one that said ‘shut up or you’ll get your ass beat’, and fixed the sleeves or her blazer. It didn’t take too long for everything to be set before beginning her solo segment on something the RedBulls were doing this weekend.
Damn, I need a shot. Or more money to motivate me
So focused on her inner thoughts while watching the playback video of her segment, she got knocked out of it by a tap on her shoulder. Once she felt the tap and it awoke her senses, she also heard the cheers and murmurs surrounding her. It could only be one person.
“Good morning, Lewis.” Lee said to her dear friend, who loved to do this surprising thing lately, as she stood up straight. The man was always in awe when he locked eyes with her. “Mornin’ Lee. I’ll see you later for our thing, yeah?” He smiled, his eyes probably crinkling behind his sunglasses.
“We have a thing?” Her eyebrows furrowed, her nose scrunching up a tiny bit before letting go. A little trait of hers that Lewis loves so much. “You need to check your emails more, sweetheart.” He winked, she just knew he did, behind the designer sunnies before walking away, tucking his hands back into his pockets.
What she could not explain was why her stomach did the thing when he winked. When she smelled his delicious cologne and surprisingly loving his Adam Sandler-esque tracksuit.
“Uh Lee? Are you okay?” The cameraman, Josh, stood up straight and asked his friend in concern. Snapping out of it, she looked at Josh. “Huh? Oh, yeah I’m good. Just fine.” She reassured him, looking back at the direction Lewis went, knowing very well that he left a while ago.
Josh then had a smirk on his face. “Right. What’d your boyfriend say?” He teased, feeling a smack on his arm a second later. “Don’t start with me, Josh. Don’t even think about it, yoh.” She warned, stepping back to the front of the camera to finish up her work.
saint’s notes 🧝🏽♀️: wellllll this is a small small introduction to the mini series and how their lil friendship goes! Lewis is a yearnerrrr in this one but that’s alright 🤭 hope you guys enjoyed!
🫧 tagslist: @mauvecherie-writes @chaneajoyyy @alika-4466 @queenshikongo3 @serpenttines @emjayewrites @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @vsfavs @motheroffae @h4vertzz @arshiyuh @henneseyhoe @cocobutterqwueen @gwenda-fav @httpsserene @peyiswriting @saturnville @purplelewlew @greedyjudge2 @sunfairyy @marvel-hotchner @boujiestpoet @f1-football-fiend @shhhchriss @jewel-diva44 @pickingupmymercedes @tian-monique
🫧 dividers: @cafekitsune
#saint writes#forever yours: the series#lewis hamilton x oc#lewis hamilton x black reader#lewis hamilton fanfics#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton x black!oc#f1 x oc#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic
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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟑: 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠
📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. squirting. car sex. semi-public sex. ooc (out-of-character) oscar. overstimulation. mild possessive behavior. mild jealousy. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. condom usage. the audacity of men. lando norris’ savior complex /jk. author’s overuse of italics and run-on sentences. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: water • tyla
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: what can i say, y'all. back at it with the unhinged thirst. every time i do one of these, they've been getting shorter and shorter. don't be afraid, for #4 (dr/mv) i'll be back on my game, they deserve it. yes gremlin lando appearance. also, i cannot imagine oscar ever acting this way, that's why i put the ooc tag? it's definitely a fun read tho (i think), along with the smut! thank you, loves, for the support on this event!
want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!
thank you to my betas! @biancathecool for helping with my grammer and @barnestatic for her wonderful spoiled brat idea :))))
cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss
if you want to look at what i'm planning for ktober, or catch up on previous uploads here's my f1 kinktober masterlist and my general masterlist for all of my works!
oscar is known for his unfazed, composed and collected demeanor. he’s aware that some people say he has no personality–but, he’s just an introvert at the end of the day. oscar’s a man of few words: that’s what people who aren’t well acquainted with him would say. if you’ve had the pleasure of sticking around oscar long enough for him to become comfortable with you, you’ll learn that oscar has an incredibly complex personality. he’s overly sarcastic, has a niche sense of humor, and can ramble endlessly at you. but, he’s still a fairly calm and quiet individual. which is why the way oscar is about to scream at the top of his lungs in the middle of this mclaren event, would be considered uncharacteristic of him.
he originally invited you to join him tonight thinking that having you by his side would eliminate the social exhaustion he experiences at these types of sponsor events. however, the aussie failed to realize that you may introduce a…different problem, to tonight’s business party. when oscar asked you to join him two weeks ago, he was prepared for all of your objections–you’re both chronic homebodies, and you both hate partaking in small talk with balding, later-aged, cologne-drenched, white men who don’t know when to let a conversation die. he chose the perfect time to ask you (after you emerged from the bathroom post-self-care bath), and addressed all of your grievances.
oh, you don’t have anything to wear? he already bought you an outfit, had it altered to perfectly fit your measurements, and bought you a pair of heels and a purse to match. oh, you won’t be able to get your hair done in time? he already scheduled an appointment with your usual hairstylist the day before the event, paid all of her fees, and tipped her very nicely. oh, your nails aren’t done? he booked you a spot at your preferred nail salon for a premium mani-pedi, and has a few nail inspiration photos picked out if you can’t decide. if you need your lashes done or need to get waxed, he can make the call right now; he has them on standby to fit you in.
knowing the amount of phone calls oscar had to partake in to arrange all of this causes you to fold and agree to join him. there’s nothing more the two of you hate than making phone calls–well, besides the pr events.
oscar had chosen an alluring burnt-orange mesh corset and matching ruched ankle-length skirt that looks beautiful against your warm, soft and shining brown skin. your hair is silk-pressed, length reaching your mid-back and your edges are laid in a minimal manner, matching the simplicity of your makeup look. simple gold rings are spread across a few fingers, ears accessorized with a pair of small good hoops oscar gifted you, and his initials rest in the dip between your clavicles attached to a thin gold chain. objectively, you're considerably modestly dressed, the only skin you're showing is on your arms, shoulders, a smidge of your decolletage, and the tops of your feet in the low-heeled strappy sandals.
this is the start of what oscar failed to account for. he didn’t expect the outfit to hug your curves like plastic wrap. the whole night he’s had to forcefully deny himself the opportunity to stare at your ass, but that doesn’t mean the other men at the event have the same courtesy. he’s taken to burning holes with his eyes into anybody who lets their gaze linger over your form for a second too long. on a regular day, oscar is generally unaffected by anyone who appreciates your body (they can look, but the second they try to touch–you let them know exactly how they had you fucked up), but if he catches one more mclaren engineer undressing you with their eyes–he will make zac fire all of them; he’ll plan his own race strategy and do his goddamn pitstop by himself.
oscar also didn’t account for how your timid and sweet attitude would have everyone enamored with you; at first, watching everyone eagerly attune to your shy words was amusing to him, but it quickly became a nuisance. he was originally leading you around the room, doing his rounds at any important figures’ tables, and everything was fine. and then, oscar had made the obvious mistake of making you laugh–a pleasant stream of giggles spilling from your lips, dimples deepening, and smile widening at whatever small joke he made. he’s always thrilled to see how you throw your head back in amusement, how your hands clap together gleefully, and how your eyes squint in from the force of your laughter. as he shakes himself out of your dazzling trance, he attempts to rejoin the conversation–but every single person at the table remains entranced and wide-eyed at you.
this would be completely fine, of course, if it was a one-off occasion; but it’s not.
suddenly, every person oscar tries to thank for supporting mclaren, starts ignoring him and paying more attention to you. he’s literally the pilot of the car that these people are spending an absurd amount of money on, but they can’t even bother to try and pretend to listen to him. men and women alike are finding any excuse to prolong conversations with you, and even lean within your personal space with the excuse that ‘they can’t hear you very well because you’re so soft spoken.’ nobody can invade your personal space, but oscar. he has no choice but to do the very thing he hates–pda. you continue to circle around the room, his hand constantly resting on the small of your back or the dip of your waist. when you’re in the middle of listening to some completely unnecessary story a man is telling you, oscar constantly adjusts your hair, plays with your rings, and smooths down your skirt if he feels like they’re trying too hard. you banish oscar to getting you a glass of water when he begins to interject in conversations in a passive-aggressive manner.
his third strike off the night, might actually be an overall win in his books. when you saw oscar in his new fitted suit, you stared him dead in the eye and told him to ‘get naked and rail you’. it’s this beautiful deep cream color that pairs perfectly with the dark orange tone of your outfit, but the vest underneath the suit jacket highlights his tiny waist so clearly that it makes you want to scream. in between socializing, you overwhelm oscar with compliments, unable to stop telling him how handsome he looks. you surgically attach yourself to his side and hug his arm; taking an occasional squeeze of his bicep, playing with his cufflinks, and tracing the veins on the back of his hand. oscar practically runs to get you a refill of water because he’d be unable to stop himself from getting fully hard if you touched him any longer–the trousers hide nothing.
he can feel your burning gaze from across the room, and turns back to watch you after asking a waiter for water, and catches your eyes roaming the length of his body. in high-definition, he sees your tongue wetting your lips before you bite at your bottom lip–and then, your attention is stolen away from some random man who’s introducing himself to you and the group of ladies you found yourself accosted by as soon as oscar left your side.
and, that’s it for oscar. he thinks he may have heard his last-fucking-button being pressed inside his head, and seethes. he goes to push off from his leaned stance against the counter and makes to start his warpath, but a hand grasps at his shoulder. oscar turns around snappily, biting out an irritated and sarcastic, “can i help you?”
“woah! calm down now, mate. thought you were going to bite my head off for a second,” it’s lando, “if i were anybody else i’m sure there would be an unfortunate tabloid of ‘how oscar piastri is the most rude f1 driver on the grid’” lando jokes teasingly, yet a hint of seriousness leaks into his tone.
oscar nods, understanding the underlying warning within the brit’s teasing. he apologizes softly to lando, before glancing back over at you, and can infer that you charmingly informed the man that you have a boyfriend—based on the way you point in his direction. oscar watches the polite smile fade from your face as the man continues to bother you, and the murderous look rises to his face again.
“OKAY”, lando claps abruptly, startling not only oscar, but everyone in a 10 foot radius. lando waves everyone else’s eyes away, smiling like he didn’t do anything, and speaks underneath his breath, “go. i’ll cover for you.”
oscar’s mouth drops open, baffled, “what?”
“leave—get your girlfriend and go,” lando says matter-of-factly, his smile becoming genuine, “zac probably won’t like to hear that you looked particularly murderous, and he definitely won’t like hearing that you slaughtered our sponsors, and that i let it happen.”
oscar snorts before he thanks lando sincerely, and the brit dismisses him, “i’m just looking out for my rookie teammate as the senior driver for our team. i can’t let your horny teenage mindset become common knowledge to our esteemed guests.”
“first of all,” oscar says dryly, his grateful mood dissipating at the mocking, “i didn’t even know you knew the word ‘esteemed' existed,” lando scoffs, “and secondly, you are literally only two years older than me.”
lando looks at oscar with a blank stare and deadpans, “do you want to leave or not?”
oscar daps up his teammate in farewell, and makes his way over to you as quickly as he can without seeming desperate, your glass of water left behind on the counter. your back is facing him as he approaches and you're still unwillingly participating in conversation with the man who can’t take no for an answer. as he gets closer, he can piece together the conversation; the dude doesn’t believe you have a boyfriend and you must be lying to him, and you’re adamant that your boyfriend is very real.
“look, bro. even if i was lying about having a boyfriend, why would i give you my number now? like, i’m just supposed to forget how you’ve been harassing me—“
oscar rests his hand on your side, and when you turn your head to see who’s touching you, he leans down and kisses you. it’s a kiss deep enough to let everyone know who you’re leaving with tonight, but not deep enough to be salacious (he can hear lando’s cackle from the other side of the room).
you melt into his kiss before he pulls away, leaving you dazed and disoriented, stumbling into him. oscar drapes his left arm around your shoulder, guiding you to tuck into his side, while he offers his right hand to the offending man for a handshake. “it seems i haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. i’m oscar, i drive for mclaren,” he introduces himself, sounding overly pleased.
the man angers, ignoring oscar’s extended hand and cockily states, “you should already know who i am. my family nicely lent you the mclaren you drove here tonight!”
“ah,” oscar smiles viciously, “if ‘your family’ kindly lent me the car, that would explain why i only remember your father’s name–and not his arrogant, disrespectful, and narcissistic trust-fund son’s name.”
the man stomps his foot in rage, like a spoiled brat, and questions, “who do you think you’re talking too?!”
oscar smirks, “nobody important, apparently,” (one of the ladies listening whispers a quiet ‘damn, that’s crazy’), oscar continues, “don’t worry, mate–i’ll make sure your father’s car returns home to him safely. should i bill you for any cleaning, in case i make a mess of it?”
the guy stumbles over a response before he scoffs and stomps away. oscar shrugs uncaring, before addressing the group of ladies who were cliqued to the side watching the whole interaction, “well. if you all don’t mind, i’m just going to steal her away from you ladies, if that’s okay?” (like there’s an option). the ladies fawn over oscar’s protectiveness before they let the two of you go, and then he starts herding you towards the exit.
it’s torture. in every five steps the two of you take, you're interrupted by various guests trying to catch you one last time. oscar feels like they’re all intentionally aggravating him; patting you on the arm, commenting on how eye-catching you look, and using the fact that the two of you are leaving to press a kiss to your hand in goodbye. you two burst out of the main doors and sigh in relief, for different reasons–for you, it’s because oscar didn’t give one of his sponsors brain damage, and for oscar, it’s because he’s one step closer to getting you in his bed.
you grasp at oscar’s hand, and he starts to lead you down the steps towards the valet, and as you fall into step at his side, you speak softly under your breath, “i can understand why you kissed me like that inside because the dude was being an asshole–even though you were marking your territory like some kind of dog–but, please; don’t tear this poor man’s throat out for helping me into the car.”
the australian remains quiet, properly chastised and works on releasing the pent up effect of the annoyances from inside the venue. everything is going well; the valet asks oscar for his parking ticket, and he goes to grab the keys, but stops just before he makes to start heading to the car, and turns back to you two and says, “i don’t know if i told you when you walked in but–you look incredibly beautiful tonight, miss. you could be a model, seriously. like, you should feel so lucky to have a woman like her–”
all attempts of oscar finding his peace are thrown out of the window. he interrupts the dude’s rambling, and bites out, “hey man, y’know what. i can just take the keys to the car. we can walk to it.”
the valet stutters, confused, “a-are you sure, i mean it’s like pretty far in the back. i can run and get it no pro–”
“it’s FINE! i mean, it’s cool, we can use the extra steps, y’know. enjoy the breeze and everything,” oscar says, slightly maniacal. there’s no breeze, it’s warm. the valet’s and your eyes meet for a second and a shared thought of “he’s trippin” is passed telepathically.
the valet concedes, not wanting to upset the f1 driver any farther and tosses him the keys. as the two of you are passing by, oscar hands the man a bill that’s probably too big based on the man’s astonished gasp. you call out to the man, continuing to walk further in the lot, “sorry about him! he just gets a little touchy about strangers driving his car, y’know?” oscar grumbles lowly next to you, and you smack him on the arm, “what did you want me to say? ‘oh sorry, my boyfriend just wants to fuck me really badly to soothe his needless jealousy?’”
“as long as he knows who’s the one who gets to take you home and fuck you.”
“oscar!” you squeak, “we both know we’d die of embarrassment if you said that. i can’t even imagine those words coming out of your mouth, in that order.”
you guys eventually puzzle out where the car is after several remote beeps of the car’s horn, and find that it’s literally tucked away in the last row, far corner with no surrounding cars for two rows.
oscar doesn’t open your door like he usually does, and leads you around to the driver's side. he opens the door, pushes the seat back as far as it goes, and sits down. without saying anything, he loosens his tie and goes to unbuckle his belt before you reach down and grab at his hand, bewildered, “oscar jack! what the fuck are you doing?”
he blinks, “i’m fucking you, right now. it’s too long of a drive back—i’m going to crash the car if you keep sitting next to me in that goddamn outfit. i was going to take you to the bathroom inside, but i figured you’d at least prefer the car. you can be a little louder here.”
your mouth dries, “you said they loaned you an incredibly rare, vintage mclaren, babe. i’m not gonna-“
oscar wrestles his way out of his suit jacket, spreads it underneath him on the leather seat, and pats his lap. “problem solved.”
shifting your weight, you glance around nervously. oscar is right, you would prefer the car over the bathroom. all those people inside who could overhear, gossip, and spread the news of how rookie mclaren, f1 driver, oscar piastri, had you yelling his name in the middle of an event. you’d pass.
“oh, c’mon now, babe. you didn’t think i saw the way you were eating me alive with your eyes inside,” your boyfriend teases, “i know you‘ve at least gotten a little wet for me already, haven’t you?”
that’s all it takes; the australian acting possessive and feening to get inside you is more than enough to have you straddling his lap and pulling the car door shut with a slam.
oscar tugs you into dirty make out, and you get lost in his pink lips, tugging teeth, and explorative tongue. the last of your breath tapers out in a reedy moan, and you break the kiss to pant against his lips, and oscar laughs. his laughter spreads through your chest, and it has your hips rolling against the bulge you feel underneath you. his amusement is cut off, and his hands fly to grip at your hips. he starts tugging you against him in a filthy grind, and choked off moans from the two of you start to fill the car.
you press kisses to oscar’s jaw line, paving a path down to his wide strong neck with your tongue. you suck on small patches of skin, not using enough suction to leave a mark, but enough for oscar to become aware of the fantasization that you could. the aussie gasps at every random suckle of your lips as he scrambles to pull the skirt up your legs. you shift your hips up to make it easier for him, as your hands feel down his torso to his belt. it unbuckles fairly easily, and you shove it out of the way, to unzip the slacks and pull his cock out.
oscar moans, throwing his head back at the feel of your hand on his length, and you get entranced in the trap that his pale thick neck is, again. you hum against his neck, introducing teeth alongside the ache of the suction of your mouth, and bully the collar of his shirt out of the way to find a space to leave a few marks. oscar’s breath freezes at the first hickey he feels you leave, but the rapid inhale he takes next clears his mind enough to have his right hand pull your panties to the side, and move to caress your heat.
you shudder on top of him, your breathy sigh amplified within the car. oscar sinks two fingers inside of you, and a much louder moan is tugged out. your hands fly up to grasp onto his shoulder, and your head tilts backward away from his neck in pleasure. his fingers thrust into you gently for a few beats slowly working to open you up for him and once he feels your cunt starting to relax, his thumb reaches to press at your clit. whines fill the air, as you lean all the way back, resting your back on the steering wheel allowing oscar all the space he needs to stretch you out. his fingers start curling as they drag out of you, and you can feel the pads of his fingers rubbing over a soft spot on the front of your walls.
oscar’s eyes were stuck marveling over the overwhelmed expression on your face, but once he starts feeling wetness dripping down his arm he glances down, and curses out a rough, “fuck, baby—you’re dripping all over me.” your cheeks burn hot, and you can’t tell if that’s out of humiliation or the effect of his awe-filled voice. your right hand releases his shoulder, and bats at his arm, before tugging at his wrist to pull his fingers out, “that’s enough, mmm, just get in me already.”
oscar eagerly draws away; he uses his clean hand to tug his wallet out of his back pocket, and tugs a condom out with a smidge of struggle before handing it to you. you snatch it out of his hand, biting it open and rolling it over his cock, and once it’s on, you tease, “jeez, osc. you really were planning on jumping me in the middle of the event tonight—grabbing a condom and everything; you think i’m that easy?”
he chuckles, satisfied, his hand drenched in your wetness rubbing over his cock to get him slick, and teases back, “you’re about to ride my cock in the parking lot of said event, pretending to be worried about ruining the seats of this vintage car. i’m not calling you easy, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?”
your cheeks are definitely burning from humiliation this time around, but you huff, ignoring him checking you. you tug his hand away, raising your hips, and guide him to your entrance with your own hand, before slowly sinking down.
twin sets of moans fill the air as he bottoms out; one of his hands reaches to palm at your ass (it’s sticky, so it must be the one he fingered you with), and the other grips at your waist tightly. you squirm on top of him, knees barely managing to find enough room to prop on the seat to give you a stable base. once you feel stable in your cramped position, you give a testing grind of your hips, and from there, it’s lights out.
oscar lets you set the pace for a few thrusts, suffering in the languid rock of your hips; you’re torturously tight around him, and he can only groan at the feeling of you wrapped around him. his chest heaves, before he brings both hands to halt your hips, and starts fucking up into you rough and quick. a scream jostles out of your throat at the unexpected change of speed, but you just take it with no complaints, allowing yourself to go limp against the wheel of the car to hold your body upright. he moves your body for you, pulling you downwards to meet his upward thrusts; and you feel him constantly applying pressure against that one tender spot right under your navel.
your boyfriend revels in the sound of the moans he’s punching out of your throat, admiring the way your head is thrown back—mouth open wide, eyes scrunched tight, lips bruised and bitten to hell. it’s a lewd picture, painted by himself. the car rocks along to his frantic rhythm, windows fogging, and sweat begins to form on both of your skin. the aussie’s core tightens; he won’t last much longer, you’ve had him half-hard the whole night.
a frustrated grunt escapes oscar, and you hum questionably about to ask what’s wrong–but his right hand leaves your waist to furiously start circling your clit, and an ear piercing shriek leaves you. “c’mon now, babe. ah-be good and come f’me yeah? im so close, baby–please,” he babbles, the last shred of sanity leaving him. his hips don’t falter once–to you it feels like they’re moving quicker, every sensitive spot receiving attention from the sharp snaps of them.
you cry out, it’s all too much; your hand reaches down to press against his navel in a feeble attempt to stop him from stroking so deep and roughly, and incoherent pleads try and tumble out of your mouth, “mm! osc–no! ah–too much, baby! it’s too much–hngh–feels weird–s-slow down!” it’s like his ears are filled with cotton; he can hear you begging down at him but can’t make out what your saying over the blood rushing in his ears. he’s trapped staring at your pretty cunt, watching the obscene amount of wetness coming out of you–the suit jacket underneath him is completely ruined, and he off-handedly thinks it won’t be saving the leather upholstery.
your legs start quivering and trembling–it damn near looks like you're freezing to death, even though the car has become as humid as a sauna. your own orgasm shocks you, and your eyes roll back erotically–unable to give oscar any warning. and in your last moment of awareness, you realize that something feels different, but it’s too late.
you choke on your scream of, “oscar, fuck!” as fluid gushes out of your cunt, and the first wave is enough to completely drench oscar’s pants, and oscar finally returns to the moment in amazement. he eagerly brushes his hand against your clit, and shortens his strokes to quick little jabs to force more of your juices out, and you can only ride along. you try to slam your legs shut, to jostle oscar’s hand away, but it’s futile with his torso propping you open for him. you’re sobbing messily, as he forces more liquid to spray from your cunt–and he moans out his own orgasm, ripped from him in surprise. the australian halts his stimulation this time around when you frantically tug his wrist away when the pleasure melds to pain, and allows himself to get a few more jerks of his hips in.
you fall forward, collapsing into his chest–the squelch of your thighs meeting his pant-covered ones has him humming and grinding his hips into you as gently as he can. the two of you shake against each other, hearts rabbiting as you catch your breath. oscar’s hands rise to rub at your back, bringing you down from the aftershocks still trembling over your body.
“i-i’ve never squirted before,” you whisper into his neck.
your boyfriend hums softly, “did you like it?”
he feels you nod against him shyly.
“then, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he comforts, knowing if he seems approving of it, you’ll be quicker to accept it as something good, “how i’m going to explain the ruined suit and car seat to mclaren on the other hand…”
a shaky laugh from you causes oscar to smile, “i told you you shouldn’t fuck me in the car.”
“how was i supposed to know that tonight would be the night i’d made you gush all over me?! i was hoping that when the time came we’d at least be on a couch,” he whines.
“shut the fuck up,” you joke, “i want a live play by play when you explain the cleaning bill to zac.”
the aussie pauses, faking thoughtfulness, “maybe i should send the bill to the trust-fund baby. zac would back me up–he’s american, he’d probably find it hilarious.”
oscar gently shifts you over to the passenger seat, and you tug your skirt all the way down, and he fights his way out of his slacks that stuck to his thighs with your wetness. he manages to wrangle them off and kicks them to the side of the car floor along with the soiled suit jacket, after fishing the keys out of them, sitting out in his boxers, and glances over to see you adjusting your appearance as best as you possibly can.
“you want a mcflurry?” the aussie offers.
“as long as we can get a fry with it,” you smile at the random shift in conversation, allowing him to hide his embarrassment.
oscar turns the keys in the ignition, and the engine rolls into life with a deep, vibrating hum. he catches your legs pressing together tightly, and you squirm at the purr of the engine under your seat.
“well,” oscar starts nonchalantly as he reverses out of the spot, “you have the time that it takes to get from the drive-through to the flat to finish eating–because as soon as we get home, i’m taking you to bed and learning how to make you squirt, consistently. i don’t care how long it takes, or how many orgasms you have–i’ll keep going ‘til you come dry, babe.”
taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess
© httpsserene 2023
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x black!reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fic#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x black!reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut#f1 x reader#f1 x black!reader#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x black!reader#formula 1 x female reader#f1 imagine#f1 smut#formula 1 smut#f1 fic#f1 scenario#mclaren formula 1#serene’s chapters.#⋆⭒˚。⋆. series special: formula 1#♡ ༘*.゚ love interest: op.#httpss :// kinktober 23
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Red Hood needs a dye job!
There are a list of people that know Jason is Red Hood. Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass, Steph, Alfred, Roy, just to name a few. And they all know because they're his family and they work to serve justice in this city alongside him.
And after all those names on the list of people who know Jason is Red Hood, comes you.
You see, you wanted to follow your passion. Your passion being hair dressing. Which you followed all through cosmetology school. So you ended up working in a hair salon.
It's Gotham. You're closing one night and you're alone. But you've done it before. Nothing different. You make sure to shut the lights off, unplug the dryers, close the bathroom door, and bring down the gate.
What's waiting for you is not expected.
"Can I make an appointment?"
You yelp and turn around. There in all his dark and gloomy glory is Red Hood. He's standing taller than you, his arms crossed over his shoulders. Just looking right at you.
"What?" you ask.
"Can I make an appointment?" he asks again.
You look at him then. You can see it. The white tuft of hair peeking out from his hood. Huh. Red Hood has white hair.
Well you're not about to stop your self from getting a client. Rent is cheap but it's not that cheap.
"I'm sorry, how would that work? Does the mask stay on?"
-
Red Hood comes to you every other month for a dye job. He comes to your house, at 2am every second Tuesday. He knows the way up your fire escape and knows to send you a text before entering.
He sits at your kitchen sink. You prop him on a chair.
You lather on the black dye and let it sit. And when he's done, he leans back and lets you wash it out. The first time he came over he didn't let you style it at all.
But he's since then become more comfortable. He lets you put leave-in conditioner. He lets you style it with a brush and a dryer.
For all intents and purposes you are Red Hood's hair stylist. And no one knows that besides you and him.
#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc blurbs#dc#Jason todd x reader#Jason todd imagine#Jason todd blurbs#Jason todd
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Secret Underneath Part 5 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)
A/N: 😈 <---Me knowing how this chapter ends.
Warning: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, slight overstimulation, hot tub smut :), FLUFF, ANGST, they take her to an event where she feels slightly out of place and nervous. Guys tell her a bit more of their background. TWO cliffhangers in one ending! Your welcome.
What can I say...I need someone to spank me and make me behave.
Word Count: 4531
Series Masterlist Here/Donate to my Ko-Fi
You bite the nail of your thumb as the limo the three of you were riding in slowly inches forward towards the building where the event was taking place. Even with the tinted windows, the flashing lights were blinding you as the press snapped constant photos of each person as they stepped onto the red carpet in front of them.
“Hey. Everything’s going to be ok, sweetheart.”, Eddie whispered as he took hold of your hand and threaded his fingers between your own. “These things still make me nervous to but trust me, you got this. If anyone was meant to be seen, baby, it’s you.”
His sweet words calm you a bit as you tilt towards him and kiss his lips.
“Remember, just be yourself.”, Steve grinned as he pushed some of your salon styled hair behind your ear.
“Be a pain in the ass. Got it.”, you tease making both boys chuckle as they leaned back in their seats and straightened up their extremely expensive but extremely sexy suits. “I feel a little out of my element.”
“I know, honey. Thank you for coming with us though. You look fucking beautiful.”
When a horde of stylists appeared at their apartment that afternoon, you thought they were only there for them since technically you were their guest but when a couple of people dragged you into the bedroom to get you ready, you literally stood there in silence accepting your fate.
They spoke at you the entire time, asking questions before answering them on their own.
“Ok, baby, now what kind of look would make you comfortable? The boys said you were going with them and since they are wearing black and pink, we were thinking a pink sleeveless with this slit up the thigh. Of course, we’ll keep your hair down. Is that ok? Oh my god, you are going to be so gorgeous!”
By the time they were finished, you hardly recognized yourself but both men’s reactions were priceless.
“Mr. Munson, do you HAVE to smoke?”
“Yes, Stephanie, I do if you don’t want me shaking like a leaf.”
“Oh wow, Y/N, that dress is just stunning!”, their stylist beamed as you stepped out.
As Eddie’s eyes glanced your way, he was starting to remove a cigarette from his pack but as soon as he saw you, they fell out of his hand making you giggle as he fumbled trying to catch them.
“Fuck! Shit! I mean… wow… princess, you look…”
“Breathtaking.”, Steve finished for him.
“Not half as good as you two.”, you grin as you kiss his lips as well. “Please don’t leave me alone out there.”
“We won’t, Y/N. I swear. One of us will be with you. If for any reason these reporters want to ask us questions, just stay behind us ok?”
Before you even get a chance to answer, the limo door is pulled open and you watch with amazement as their faces seem to change while stepping onto the carpet. Still holding your hand, he guides you out as your grip on him tightens and the lights of the cameras flash.
“Mr. Harrington! Mr. Munson! Right here please! Turn your head this way! Eddie! Eddie! Steve! STEVEN! Over here!”
Someone with a headset appears to greet them, taking your arm and tugging you to the side while both men stand silently smiling as their photos are taken. They appeared confident especially Eddie who at random points stuck out his tongue causing Steve to laugh at his friend but you could tell this was an image. Another headspace they needed step into to do what needs to be done and control the image that the viewing public sees.
“Come on, Miss, we need to get you inside.”
“Oh, no. They told me to stay here—”
“Well, I’m sorry, honey, but you can’t. I need to keep the line moving.”
Thankfully, Steve glanced your way, taking note of your panicked expression before hastily thanking them for their time and power walking your way.
“Hey, no, no. She stays with either me or Eddie. No exceptions. This is her first time at one of these.”
“I understand that, Mr. Harrington, but I have to do my job.”
“Ok, well then I guess we’re done with interviews.”
“Steve, it’s ok. I’m ok. I’ll just wait inside by the door.”
His eyes scan you over as the girl behind you anxiously dances on her feet.
“Right inside, alright? Don’t wonder around.”
***
When they finally made it inside, a small huff left their lips at the fact that you weren’t waiting by the door. It took them a few moments to find you standing by the bar talking to a couple Steve definitely knew. You seemed a bit more relaxed and as they made their way to you a big smile stretched across your face.
“Hey! Finally. You two were out there forever.”, you giggled. “Mr. Carmody and his wife Annie were keeping me company.”
“When she told us she knew you, Mr. Harrington, I had to poke her brain.”, the man chuckled.
“Please, sir, call me Steve.”
“Your office has reached out to me a few times but unfortunately I’ve been out of town dealing with some chaos.”
“Yes, sir. I read about what was happening to that building your renovating out west. We can help with that. My firm is really good with locking that down and getting things back on track.”
“So, I’ve read, Steve and what Y/N tells me as well. Look I don’t want to pull your attention from this beautiful young lady any longer. Why don’t you meet me in my office on Monday at about 9am and we can talk shop?”
Steve nods and shakes the man’s hand as he hands him his card and turns with his wife to leave. As soon as he disappears, the mogul spins around and lifts you in his arms in a big bear hug making you giggle till he places you on your feet again.
“I have been trying to get a meeting with him for months! How did you do that? How did you even…”
“Because I listen to you when you talk.”, you smile. “And I read a bit more about what you do. I thought maybe I could help.”
A bit too excitedly, Steve tugged on your hand and pulled you to a more secluded area before crashing his lips to yours.
“You…are…amazing.”, he praises between pecks.
“I know.”, you grin as your hands cup his cheeks.
As the night progressed, you found yourself getting more and more comfortable with the environment around you as both men introduced you to different people. When a lull finally presented itself, however, you scurried away to the outdoor patio and exhaled as you leaned over the balcony.
“Excuse me, young lady, but I believe you’re supposed to stay by one of us.”, Eddie teased as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting the end, and balanced over the concrete beside you. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. Is it ok if I…”, he asked gesturing towards the stick between fingers.
“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you look fucking gorgeous and I don’t want to ruin your ensemble here with cigarette smoke.”
“Nah, baby. You know I don’t mind when you ruin me.”
The rockstar laughs as he ever so slightly leans close to you and you respond by looping your arm through his, tilting your head against his bicep.
“You’re doing well by the way. You know how to handle the heathens that run around here.”
“I’m a teacher, Mr. Munson. I know how to handle rowdy kids.”, you giggle. “I just…I don’t want to embarrass you in any way. This is your life, you know?”
“Nuh uh.”, Eddie shakes his head. “Music and buildings are our life… you…are our life.”
As he trips over his words, you can’t help but glance up towards his face as he stares off into the New York skyline. For men that were extremely confident, they both turned into nervous shy teenagers when they mentioned your relationship with them. You imagined part of that was because of Gina and what she put them through.
“I know we haven’t know you very long but you’ve done more for us in over 5 months than anyone has done in the years that they’ve known us.”
“Why do I doubt that?”
“Ok, maybe, my uncle but don’t tell him that or else it will go to his head.”, he teased making you smile.
“What are you two freaks doing out here?”, Steve joked as he came up to lean on your other side.
“Escaping the boredom that is this party. I’m not going to lie though; I’m really fucking hungry.”
“Me to.”, you add with a whine causing both boys to laugh.
“How about we sneak out and go get some food?”
#################
You couldn’t stop giggling as you munched on the greasy burger in your hand while Eddie took another sip of champagne from the bottle in the car that was driving you three around.
“Fuck. Steph is gonna kill me.”, Steve fussed as he hastily cleaned the ketchup that had fallen onto his tux.
“Can we do something fun? I’m not ready to call it a night.”
“What did you have in mind, sweetheart?”
“Can we go see one of Steve’s buildings? I’d love to see one.”
“You’ve been in one, honey, with your class. My office is in a building I purchased. Plus, I’m not sure looking at one of my places would exactly constitute as ‘fun’.”, the mogul laughs.
“Oh, come on. Pleeeease, Daddy.”, you playfully pout, clapping your hands in excitement when he gives in.
After he gives the driver instructions, you curl up in both their sides as you wait to reach your destination. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised when the vehicle stopped outside of what looked to be a stadium.
“You own this? Do you own the team as well?”, you laugh as Eddie takes your hand and helps you out of the car.
“Uh no. That is way too much work BUT I do come to the games from time to time.”
“Steve used to be the star basketball player in our town.”
You beamed up at him as he nodded in agreement while you followed them blindly before ending up on a well light basketball court.
“Is someone here?”
“No ma’am. Just us. These lights are timed so they’ll turn off closer to the morning.”
The sound of dribbling echoed through the stadium as the rockstar came into view bouncing a basketball.
“Want to play?”
Smirking, you took the ball from his hand, bouncing it before shooting your shot and making the basket.
“Oooo Stevie. You got some competition!”
“It seems I do. Want to make it interesting?”
“How so, Mr. Harrington?”, you sing with your big grin making them swoon.
They loved seeing you happy.
“How about we take turns and for every basket we miss we have to take off an item of clothing.”
“Well, that’s not fair, Daddy. You have more pieces than I do.”
“Well, honey, make sure not to suck then.”
While you and Eddie laugh, Steve bounces the ball and shoots it from the free throw line, making his basket. The two of you follow suit, mimicking his moves perfectly while making the shot.
“So, you were a basketball star, huh? MVP?”
“Yup.”, Steve answered obnoxiously popping his lips on the P as he made another basket. “And swim captain to. None of it impressing my dad by any means.”
Taking your turn, you moved out of the way to allow Eddie his.
“What about you?”
“No sports for me, babe. I was hanging out with the other nerds playing D&D till all hours of the evening and selling drugs to cheerleaders.”
“Oof, you bad boy.”
After only hitting the rim, the rockstar sighed as he took off his jacket and tossed it to the side.
“What about you, pretty girl?”
“I was a journalism kid. I loved to write and read.” Steve missed his next shot and having removed his jacket long ago, unbuttoned his shirt and placed with the others. “I know you said you both grew up together but how did you officially meet?”
“We didn’t exactly float in similar circles but—shit—“, Eddie whines as he takes off his shirt as well. “We didn’t really start talking until senior year. Learned we both had a lot in common.”
“How so?”
“Asshole dads, our moms weren’t in the picture, people in the town misjudged us…”, the mogul answered. “Everyone thought I was this fucking stupid jock with an ego.”
“Which to be fair, Harrington, was an image you catered to for a while there.”
“To make my dad happy. I learned a little too late that would never happen.” Missing his shot again, he took off his belt and pushed down his pants. “I’m starting to think we misjudged HER, Ed.”
“Most men do.”, you giggle. “What about you, Eddie? How did the town see you?”
The rockstar slide playfully to your side and you squeaked when he spanked your behind.
“What did we say about that ‘most men do’ shit?”
“You’re not like most men.”
“Mhmm. Give me something.”, he demands light-heartedly as he holds out his palm.
Jokingly glaring his way, you reach under your dress and shimmy down your panties, slamming them into his hand.
“These are cute.”, he grins as he throws them on top of their discarded clothing. “And they saw me kind of how you did before, some troublemaking bad boy except they thought I worshipped Satan or some shit.”
“You?”
“I know. Weird, huh? Fuck!”
With the men now in just their boxers, you beamed with pride.
“Ay, calm down, little one. You’re young and have a lot more energy than we do.”, Steve smiled as he ran his palm along his stomach.
“Calm down, Mr. Harrington, you both aren’t THAT old. Now if I make this last shot, can you show me one of those rich people suites?”
“You mean the places that look like our apartment but are the size of yours? Yeah, sure, why not.”, Eddie chuckled.
“Last time I checked your apartment doesn’t have a hot tub.”
“How do you know these do?!”
“Please. I’m broke. You think I haven’t fantasied about watching the game from one of those rooms?!”, you laugh as you casually bounce the ball in your hands. “Spend some time in that warm water, naked, with a glass of champagne and a sexy man between my legs. Both or three of us probably tripping in sweat with heavy panting and just being utterly filthy. Oof.”
Silently, they watched as you tossed the basketball in the air and you grinned at the sound of the swish as it effortlessly made it in.
Grabbing your hand, Steve practically tugged your arm off while Eddie hastily gathered their clothes and all but ran to the elevator that would take you to the suites above.
“Oh wow.”, you breathe as you take in the room. “This is gorgeous.”
“Not as gorgeous as you.”, the rockstar smiles sheepishly as he helps you out of your gown and carefully places it on one of the chairs nearby.
“I didn’t realize the tub would be this small. Is that ok?”
“Depends.”, Steve answers as he slides into the water and flicks a button that allows it to come to life. “Are you asking because Eddie and I may bump into each other or because you think we’ll have trouble being comfortable because of your body?”
“Steve and I have bumped into each other before. I mean we are sharing a beautiful woman so skin touches from time to time.”, Eddie follows as he jumps in causing his friend to roll his eyes when some of the water spill onto the carpet. “And there’s no place we’d rather be, babe, then scrunched together with you in between us.”
They both reached out their hands that you take as you step into the tub, pleasantly sighing at the feeling of the hot liquid bubbling against your skin.
Their lips were all over you immediately as they trailed along your neck, shoulder, back, and chest. You often marveled at how in sync both men always seemed to be in when it came to pleasing you. They both grinded against you but Steve was the first to slide his cock into your pussy as he tugged your back to his chest.
“Fuck…”, you whine as your hand reaches down to stroke Eddie’s length. The rings on his fingers felt cool against your skin as he gripped your jaw and kissed your lips. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
“Definitely come a long way from ‘I don’t want to ruin your suit, Daddy.’”, the rockstar teases making you and Steve breathily laugh between pants. “Our dirty girl.”
The mogul abruptly pulled out of you but before you had time react, Eddie lifted your leg around his waist and slide his cock into your core. The sudden change had your pussy clenching around him as your forehead rested against his own.
“Y-You like that, sweetheart? Being passed between us…shit.”
“Being used by us?”, Steve added as you nodded. “Say it, honey.”
“I like…like being used by you, Daddy. Please, I’m gonna…cum.”
Eddie removed his length, spinning you around as the mogul guides himself into you again pumping his hips at such a fast rhythm that more water spilled out of the tub. Your fingers tangled in his hair that was beginning to dampen with warm water and his sweat. The sight alone had your cunt tighten even more and you whimper as the coil snaps.
“Miss is it ok that the tub is small…”, he groans in your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “You like being this—fuck—close with no room t-to breathe.”
Hands pressed into your tummy and Steve pulled out once more for Eddie to replace him. Your head fell on his shoulder and he tenderly nibbled on your neck while the other man encased his lips around your nipple with his tongue flicking against the bud. Slamming his hips into yours, you listened as the rockstar grunted against your skin till you couldn’t take it anymore and came with a loud groan.
When your body went limp against them wet hands cupped your face and tilted your head upright.
“Hey. Look at me, baby girl. Are you ok?”
“M-More. Want more, Daddy, please.”
They both chuckled as Steve reached over to turn off the hot tub and carefully lift you out of the water. Neither of you made it far as he laid flat on his back against the floor with you on top of him; your head resting on his chest.
“Here, sweetheart. Drink this.”, Eddie instructed, handing you a bottle of water that you gladly accepted. “You to, Steven. We aren’t young men anymore.”
“Oh my god.”, his friend laughed as his did what he commanded. Ignoring their banter, your lips trailed up the body of the man underneath you. “So needy, honey.”
“For you two.”, you coo softly as your nose grazes his. “Let me help you cum to, Daddy, please.”
“Go ahead, baby.”, Steve whispers. “Ride Daddy’s cock.”
Resting his hands on your sides, you both moan as you slowly sink down onto him. As you start to roll your hips, you feel his tip nudge past that spongy spot inside you causing you to tremble and throw you head back in ecstasy.
“Fuck, Y/N. Move.”
“I-I am Daddy. Fuck you’re so deep.”
Roughly his palms grip both sides of your head and bring you down till his face is inches from yours.
“Don’t tease me, Y/N. We didn’t with you. Now, ride my dick like you fucking mean it.” Steve’s mouth fell open when you did what he told you to, bouncing aggressively as his hands found their way back to your hips to guide you. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. So fucking beautiful like this. Fuck! I’m so glad your ours.”
Collapsing flat onto him, his arms wrap around your back and he plants his feet into the floor, allowing him to thrust his cock into you at a rapid pace that overwhelms you as you push back against his hold. Steve doesn’t allow you mobility so you submit to the feeling as you melt into him, clinging to his body till you shake and cum hard with him following as he milks his seed into your cunt.
Lifting you off the mogul, Eddie placed you on a nearby table on your back and yanked you to the edge. With his palms clinging to your thighs for leverage, he thrust his cock into your entrance and pounded his hips into your own, desperate for a release after watching you ride his friend.
“Fuck, sweetheart…so fucking tight…Mmph.”
“Oh my god.”, you mewl as you drag your nails down his sweat glistening chest.
“I need you to cum again, baby. Cum all over Daddy’s dick.” When you shake your head, his hand promptly flies to your throat and firmly squeezes. “I wasn’t asking, little girl. Don’t tell me no.”
As he rolls his waist, your eyes roll closed as your back arches and your arms fall over the side of the table giving Eddie a perfect view of your tits as they bounce with each pump of his length.
“That’s our girl. Just l-let go, Y/N.”
His cock repeatedly abuses your g-spot and you grip his wrists to ground you as you whine loudly till the ball in your belly drops.
The rockstar’s jaw clenches at the feeling as his head hangs and he chases his own high. Tilting his body over yours, he grunts as his rhythm sputters and you feel him warm your insides.
“F-Fuck. Good…good girl.”, he coos as his lips tenderly trail along your cheek to your neck. “You ok, princess?”
“T-Tired, Daddy. Wanna sleep now.”
Both men chuckle softly as Eddie carefully pulls out of your sore, aching cunt and reaches for a towel to clean you with while Steve searches around the room till he makes a tiny aha noise when he finds what he’s looking for.
“I don’t think we can sleep here, baby. But let’s get you back home so you can curl up in bed.”
“Your home?”
You groan as the rockstar lifts you to your feet but holds you under your arms to keep you steady as the mogul lifts your leg to slide a pair of shorts up your body.
“These may be a bit tight, honey, but I think you’d prefer this for the time being till we get you back to, yes, our apartment which is yours too.”, Steve beams as he places the shirt over your head. “Do you think you can walk?”
You adorably shake your head and Eddie lifts you in his arms as Steve leads the way out of the stadium towards his car. Through the ride home you pleasantly sighed at their gentle touches as they ran their fingers through your hair or along your legs.
When they placed you in Steve’s bed, you didn’t even hesitate when you pulled them both as close to you as possible. Because of everything they had been through they were never sure if the clinginess was you or the headspace but they relished it either way. They would do anything for you if you asked but knew you never would. You weren’t like their ex; you were strong and independent. They knew you could take care of yourself but chose to be vulnerable for them and they loved you for that.
Wait…
Their eyes met as the realization hit them hard.
They loved you.
So many different questions and scenarios ran through their minds as insecurities of their own started to seep in. Those feelings were validated when both their phones pinged at the same time.
###################
The following morning you woke up with a big smile on your face and felt more at peace than you had in a very long time. As you leaned up to stretch, you realized you were in bed alone.
“Eddie? Steve?”, you called to no response.
Reaching for your phone, your eyebrows knitted together when you found a piece of paper taped to the screen.
“Y/N,
We had to leave due to something that came up but, please, feel free to have some breakfast and a shower before you head back to your apartment.”
Head back to my apartment? Are they asking or telling me? Didn’t they say last night that their apartment was also mine?
“We are going to be extremely busy these next few days so we may not answer texts or calls.
Honey, do you remember the promise you made to us about not looking us up on Google or anything like that? Please, keep that for us.
Talk with you as soon as we can…
Eddie and Steve.”
You blinked as you read and reread the note they left you. You understood they were busy men and that you promised not to search them on any news outlets or gossip sites but how could they expect you to not have questions after a cryptic note like this?
Sighing, you got dressed bypassing breakfast and a shower to head back to your lonely apartment. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you clicked on your TV, channel surfing till you found something even slightly interesting. You wish was granted when Steve and Eddie’s face illuminated your screen.
Bolting upright, you turned up the volume.
“And on our top story today, lawyers of Gina Frost, the daughter of actress Libby Frost, finally released the identities of the two men she’s seeking to get palimony from after a 4-year relationship she claims to have had. Business Tycoon Steven Harrington who just made a massive 400 million deal and Guitarist of the popular grammy winning band Corroded Coffin Edward Munson have been named in the lawsuit filed by the young actress herself. Lawyer Daryl Barnes made a statement saying:
‘It’s not right for my client to have her face plastered all over social media where she is demeaned constantly and belittled for the completely valid choice she is making when it comes to these two men who have failed to keep promises they made to this young lady!’
No comment yet has been made by either celebrity who were seen out just last night at a benefit with a yet to be identified young lady at their side.”
The remote shattered against your hardwood floor as it fell from your grasp.
“Yet to be identified.”
Your own mobile device came to life as messages and tags came through almost in an instant.
How…how could they not tell you? How could they leave you alone when all this was coming to light?
Fury overtook your shock as you threw on your jacket and stomped out the front door.
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