#but this is going to be a turning point and it's interesting to me that it happened so early | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mythicalmaven · 2 days

Text

Revealed Desires - Lando Norris

(This is a sequel to Secret Desires, but could also be read separately)

Here is part two of the requested oneshot! I loved writing it so much, that I needed to write a part two! It accidentally turned out WAY longer than I intended, but I love how it turned out! Hope y'all like it! Please let me know if you did! :)

Masterlist This is part two of this one (reading the previous part is advised for more context lol, but you technically could read it separately) ↳pairing: Lando Norris x f!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 8,9K ↳Summary: In which the story continues after the reader (Max Verstappen's twin sister) had a rather interesting text exchange with & FaceTime call with her best friend Lando Norris after he had drunkenly texted her about his sexual fantasies about her. ↳content warnings: reader is Max Verstappen's twin sister, Lando is her best friend, but also more, friends to lovers, first kiss, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), explicit sexual content, handjob, blowjob, oral sex f!receiving, orgasm denial, p in v, making love, praise kink,

It had been a few hours since that intimate phone call with you, and yet the giddy sensation still coursed through Lando's veins like wildfire. He obviously still felt incredibly embarrassed about drunk texting you the way he did, but it lead to something great. Something he enjoyed so much, he can't put it into words. The knowledge that you felt the same way about him had turned the usually composed British driver into a lovesick puppy, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. He'd been in love with you for quite some time, but now that his feelings were out in the open, everything felt more intense, more real.

Since that call, Lando had managed to shower, get dressed, and gather his things to hang out with a few of the guys at Charles’ place. But the whole time, he’d been distracted, replaying every moment of your conversation, every breathy word exchanged, over and over in his mind.

By the time he arrived at Charles' house and plopped down onto the couch, the weight of it all—how much his life had changed in a few short hours—settled in. But just as he began to sink into his thoughts, he felt a pair of familiar eyes boring into him.

Max was staring at him, that infuriatingly smug grin stretching across his face. "Good morning, Mr. Casanova," Max teased, the humor in his voice impossible to miss as he watched Lando try to hide within the collar of his hoodie.

"Oh god, please, shut up," Lando groaned, pulling the hood further over his face in a futile attempt to disappear. "I don't even remember half of what I said to you last night."

Charles, who had perched himself on the armrest of the couch, took a casual sip of his coffee. The amusement radiating off him was palpable as he clapped a hand on Lando’s shoulder. "Unfortunately for you, Max remembers all of it."

Max leaned back into the cushions, making a dramatic gagging sound as if to punctuate his point. "I wish I could forget some of the things you said, mate," he chuckled. "But I have to admit, some of it was pretty funny. Adorable, even."

Lando's face flushed a deep crimson, his stomach twisting with embarrassment. "Do I even want to know what I said?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he avoided the eyes of both his friends.

Charles set his coffee cup down on the table, his expression turning thoughtful. "Well," he began, running a hand through his hair, "you started out pretty innocent. You were going on about how head over heels you are for her—though I can’t recall the exact words, it was clear enough."

Lando groaned again, his face burning with shame as he sank further into the couch. "God, Max, I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I never wanted you to find out like this."

Max raised his eyebrows, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "You really think I didn’t already know you were in love with my sister?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You’ve been obvious for a while now, even when you weren’t drunk off your ass."

Lando’s eyes widened in shock, his heart skipping a beat. "A-Are… you s-serious?" he stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Charles rolled his eyes, smirking. "Dude, you stare at her more than you do your own race car," he teased. "And let’s not forget that your entire way of talking to each other is just… well, flirting."

Lando felt his heart rate pick up, a mix of relief and mortification washing over him. "Oh," he muttered, his voice small.

"But if that was the innocent part," Lando began, dreading the answer, "what in god's name were the other things I said?"

Max snorted, leaning forward with a grin. "Well, once you were really wasted, you didn’t even seem to notice I was there anymore," he began, the disgust creeping back into his voice. "You were pretty much ranting to Charles about how hot she is and how you’d kill to see her naked."

Charles burst out laughing, almost spilling his coffee in the process. "Hey! Don’t leave out the best part," he chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You also said that if you had the chance, you’d fuck her on every single piece of furniture in your house."

Max made a dramatic gagging noise again, waving his hands in front of his face. "Okay, enough, ew," he protested, though the laughter in his voice was unmistakable. "We’re talking about my twin sister here, remember?"

Lando buried his face in his hands, sinking so far into the couch he thought he might disappear entirely. "Fucking hell," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. "I really am a gigantic idiot."

Max’s laughter subsided into a low chuckle as he leaned back into the cushions. "Well, spilling the beans on your feelings was one thing, but I’m curious how you’re going to talk your way out of this with her," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You kept going on about needing to text her about something 'very private.'"

Lando groaned again, this time so deeply it resonated in his chest. "Please don’t remind me," he mumbled, knowing all too well what Max was referring to.

Max grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Lando’s discomfort. "So, after I dragged your sorry ass home, I decided to give her a little heads up," he continued, his voice dripping with teasing humor. "But she told me it was a little too late because, apparently, you had already sent her quite the intense text."

Charles, who had been taking another sip of his coffee, choked on it immediately, coughing violently as he tried to suppress his laughter. "Mon dieu," he managed to gasp out between coughs, his face turning red from the effort. "What the heck did you even text her? Did you send her a nude or something?"

Before Lando could even process the question, Max threw his hands up in the air. "Don’t answer that while I’m in the room! I don’t even want to know!" he exclaimed, half laughing, half horrified. "We’re talking about my twin sister here! I need more coffee."

With that, Max got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Lando and Charles alone in the living room.

Charles eyed Lando with a raised eyebrow, the teasing smirk never leaving his face. "Now, do tell," he urged, clearly eager to hear the juicy details.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "God, I don’t even want to think about it," he muttered, his voice filled with both regret and reluctant amusement. "I cringe at myself every time I read it back."

Charles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you at least talk to her about it?" he asked, his tone becoming more serious. "I mean, considering you’re not sulking in a corner, I assume she doesn’t hate you now, right?"

Lando felt the heat rise to his cheeks again, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ehm… yeah, we talked about it," he admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to downplay the situation.

Charles’ eyes widened in surprise, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, you guys did not…" he started, his voice dripping with playful accusation.

Lando hesitated, biting his lip. "Maybe," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the back with a hearty smack. "So, let me get this straight," he began, still chuckling. "You got wasted, accidentally sexted your best friend, and she… liked it? And then you pretty much continued the conversation? Do you even remember a thing of it, or is your text history your only proof?"

Lando’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he avoided Charles’ gaze, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Ehm… it might’ve happened this morning through text… then later through FaceTime," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Charles let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Nice job, mate," he said, his tone filled with both amusement and genuine admiration. "Better not tell Max that you had literal phone sex with his twin sister."

Before Lando could respond, they heard Max’s voice echoing from the kitchen. "God, I really did not want to hear that," Max groaned, his tone laced with exasperation.

Charles laughed again, turning his attention back to Lando. "Well, now that you’ve crossed that line, what’s the next step?" he asked, his tone more serious now. "Are you going to talk to her about where this is going?"

Lando let out a long sigh, leaning back into the couch as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I mean… yeah, I guess I have to," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I can’t just pretend like nothing happened."

Charles nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "You’re right," he agreed. "But, honestly, it sounds like you two are already on the same page. You just need to have an actual conversation about it."

Lando nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling in his chest. "Yeah… I know, we talked about if for a little.." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I admitted my feelings to her. We did kind of agree to starting something real once she's back in Monaco"

Charles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his smile softening. "That's good"

"Yeah, I actually have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow" he told Charles, a hint of something else in his voice "I would lie if I said I wasn't nervous about it. Just scared that she might come to the conclusion that she regrets it, once she sees me in real life again"

*The following day*

Lando sat in his car at the airport, his nerves doubling with each passing second. His fingers fumbled restlessly in his lap as he tried—and failed—to calm himself down. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind racing with thoughts of how he should greet you when you finally arrived. Despite offering numerous times to meet you at the gate, to carry your suitcases like a gentleman, you had refused each one with a teasing smile, insisting that you were "a big girl" and could manage on your own. Now, he wondered if he had been too pushy, if maybe he should have backed off and given you more space.

As he waited, Lando’s mind continued to wage a war against itself. Should he just hug you like he always did, keeping things light and familiar? Or should he throw caution to the wind and kiss you, putting everything on the line? The thought of kissing you, of finally feeling your lips on his after all these years of longing, made his heart race. But what if you didn’t want that? What if you pulled away, leaving him to wallow in his embarrassment?

His internal debate was abruptly cut short by the sound of a knock on his window. Lando looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he met your eyes. There you were, standing just outside his car, a soft smile on your lips. That smile—the one that always made his chest tighten—sent a wave of warmth through him. He quickly opened the door, jumping out to help you with your luggage.

"Hi," you murmured softly, echoing the way you had greeted him during your FaceTime call. The familiarity of your voice, that gentle tone, sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando smiled back, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against yours as you both reached for the handle of your suitcase. The slight contact sent a jolt of electricity up his arm, and he had to resist the urge to pull you into his arms right then and there. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing, but the proximity, the way you looked at him, made it impossible to think straight.

"Fuck this," he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. In a swift movement, he reached up, sliding his fingers around the back of your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your jaw. The world seemed to slow down as he tilted your face up toward his, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally closed the distance between you.

When his lips met yours, it was like every pent-up emotion, every moment of longing, exploded into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a confession, a release, an answer to all the questions that had been swirling in his mind. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let himself get lost in the sensation of finally, finally, kissing the one girl he had been in love with for what felt like forever.

Your response was immediate and overwhelming. You released the suitcase from your grip, one of your hands moved up to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer, while the other slid down to cover his hand, guiding it to your waist. The heat of your body against his was intoxicating, and Lando felt like he was drowning in you, in the softness of your lips, in the way you seemed to melt into him.

As your kiss deepened, Lando could feel your breath hitch, your body pressing even closer to his as if you couldn’t get enough. He took the invitation, gently parting your lips with his, and when your tongues met, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the side of the car. The cool metal of the car against your back contrasted with the heat between you, making you gasp softly into the kiss.

Every touch, every brush of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent shivers down Lando’s spine. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, could hear the soft, breathy sounds you made as the kiss grew more urgent. His hands roamed your back, sliding up to cup your face, then back down to your waist, as if trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, his shoulders, as you gave in to the overwhelming pull of desire that had been building between you for so long. The way Lando kissed you—desperate yet tender, with a mix of hunger and reverence—made your heart swell with emotion. It was as if he was pouring all his love, all his need, into that kiss, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. Lando’s fingers played with a stray strand of your hair, his touch feather-light as he whispered, "Sorry if that was too straightforward. I just… I couldn’t help myself."

You giggled softly, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Lan, we both know we crossed the 'too straightforward' line already when you sent me that one text," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Lando’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping to the ground as he muttered, "Shut up."

But you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. Smiling, you tilted his chin up with your finger, forcing him to meet your gaze before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Hey, I never said I was complaining" you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with affection.

Lando felt a surge of relief wash over him, his lips curling into a smile against yours. All the tension, all the nerves, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through his entire being. As you pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours, finding only the same affection and desire that he felt reflected back at him.

"Now, let's get this stuff in the car and head back to my place. Because I think we both waited long enough now, don't you think?" you teased him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

As Lando and you finally settled into the car, the engine's quiet hum filled the space, a stark contrast to the roaring thoughts and desires that swirled between you. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every glance more charged. The drive back to your place had never felt so excruciatingly long, and the unspoken understanding between you made the tension all the more palpable.

You both tried to keep the conversation light, casual even, but it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of desire that crackled between you like static electricity. Lando gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his knuckles turning white as he navigated through the city streets. He stole glances at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, his mind racing with thoughts of what would happen once you finally reached your apartment.

“So, did you miss me?” you teased, your voice playful yet laced with something deeper.

Lando chuckled, his voice strained as he responded. “Miss you?” He shot you a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, something like that.”

Your hand slowly inched its way over to his thigh, resting lightly at first, but enough to make him shift in his seat. You could feel the muscle tense beneath your fingers, his reaction immediate and telling. You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, or the subtle clenching of his jaw as he tried to maintain his focus on the road.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and warning, though you could hear the underlying strain, the barely restrained desire.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, your fingers beginning to trace small, teasing circles on his thigh, gradually moving closer to where you knew he was most sensitive. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” Lando’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried—and failed—to ignore the effect your touch was having on him. “About what, exactly?”

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, “About how long this drive is taking. Don’t you think it’s… too long?”

Lando let out a low, frustrated groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You giggled softly, the sound filled with a mix of mischief and satisfaction. Your hand moved higher, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his pants, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. He glanced over at you, his eyes darkening with lust, and you could see the tension in his expression, the way he was barely holding himself together.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, your voice dripping with mock innocence, though the wicked glint in your eyes betrayed your intentions.

“Fuck…” Lando cursed under his breath, his hips involuntarily jerking forward at the contact. “You’re going to make me crash this car if you keep that up.”

But despite his words, he didn’t make any move to stop you. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat, almost as if inviting you to continue. The knowledge that you had this kind of power over him, that you could unravel him with just a few touches, sent a thrill through you, your own arousal growing with each passing second.

As your hand pressed more firmly against him, Lando couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips, low and guttural, filled with the kind of raw need that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. The sound of it, the way his body responded so helplessly to your touch, only fueled your desire, your own breath becoming shallow as you leaned in closer.

“I think you like this,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke, your hand slowly, deliberately, palming him through his jeans. You could feel him hardening beneath your touch, and the thought of what was to come made your own body ache with need.

“Fuck, you’re right,” Lando admitted, his voice rough and strained. He let out another soft moan, his hips shifting again, seeking more of your touch despite his earlier protests. “But you’re also going to regret teasing me like this.”

“Is that a threat?” you teased, your hand now fully exploring the outline of his erection, your fingers pressing just hard enough to drive him crazy, but not enough to satisfy.

“Consider it a promise,” Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, every second feeling like an eternity as you continued to push him closer to the edge.

The rest of the drive was a torturous mix of heated touches and ragged breaths, the air thick with anticipation. Every kilometer that separated you from your apartment seemed to stretch on forever, amplifying the tension that crackled between you. Lando’s eyes flicked from the road to your hand on his bulge, watching as your fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration. His breathing was uneven, the struggle to keep his focus on driving becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.

You noticed how his grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white, the strain evident in every line of his body. His jaw was clenched, his gaze forward, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, how his breath hitched every time your fingers palmed over the bulge straining against his jeans.

“You’re awfully quiet, Lando,” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers tracing the outline of his erection with maddening slowness. “Cat got your tongue?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his voice strained as he responded. “Trying to focus on not crashing the car, love,” he muttered, his words laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal. His eyes briefly met yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “But you’re making that damn near impossible.”

You smiled, pleased with the effect you were having on him. Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “What would you do to me if we weren’t in this car right now?”

Lando’s breath hitched again, a soft groan escaping his lips as your words sent a surge of heat through him. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of all the things he wanted to do to you. “You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that made your pulse quicken.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your hand pressing more firmly against his erection, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me, Lando. What would you do if you had me all to yourself right now?”

Lando’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his grip on the wheel tightening as he tried to maintain control. “I’d start by pinning you against the wall,” he began, his voice thick with desire. “I’d kiss you until you were breathless, until you couldn’t think straight. And then I’d strip you down, piece by piece, until there was nothing between us.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your body reacting instantly to the vivid images he painted with his voice. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the ache of wanting him becoming almost unbearable. “And then?” you prompted, your voice breathy, urging him to continue.

Lando swallowed hard, his hips shifting slightly under your touch. “Then I’d lay you down, spread you out for me,” he continued, his voice growing darker, more intense. “I’d take my time, kiss every inch of you, taste you until you’re begging for more.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips at his words, the need inside you flaring hotter with every second. “Fuck, Lando,” you breathed, your hand moving up to cup him more fully, feeling the hardness beneath your fingers. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You think you’re the only one?” Lando shot back, his voice rough with arousal. He let out another low groan as you began to palm him through his jeans, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, seeking more. “Keep that up and we won’t even make it to your apartment.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the way you were affecting him. “Maybe that’s the idea,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Maybe I want to see how much you can take.”

Lando let out a soft, desperate moan, his control slipping further with every touch, every word. “You’re fucking evil, you know that?” he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest as he gave in to the pleasure, his body reacting instinctively to your teasing. “But god, I love it.”

The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the promise of what was to come. Every brush of your fingers, every shift of your body sent waves of desire crashing over both of you, making it almost impossible to think clearly.

As you continued to tease him, your own body was alight with need, every fiber of your being aching for him. The sight of Lando struggling to keep his composure, the way he was completely at your mercy, only fueled your desire, your own breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your touch.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lando pulled up to your apartment building, the car coming to a sudden, jerky stop as he practically slammed on the brakes. He turned to you, his eyes dark and filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Get out of the car,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained, leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The moment you stepped out, Lando was there, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you back against the car, his lips crashing onto yours with a desperate, almost frantic intensity. The kiss was hot, urgent, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been building between you for so long. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the full extent of his arousal.

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you moan softly.

“Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want to feel everything.”

Lando groaned at your words, his control slipping further as he kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the soft skin of your back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, practically dragging you toward the entrance of the building. The anticipation was palpable, every step closer to your apartment only adding to the tension between you.

The elevator ride up was a blur of heated touches and frantic kisses, Lando’s lips never leaving your skin as he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough and filled with raw need.

“Me too,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire as your hands explored the planes of his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando.”

His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the taste of you. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you could feel every ounce of his passion, his longing, in the way his tongue danced with yours, the way his hands gripped you as if he was afraid you might slip away.

When the elevator finally dinged at your floor, Lando wasted no time, pulling you out and down the hall toward your apartment. His impatience was evident in the way he fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and lust coursing through his veins.

“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and arousal as he finally managed to unlock the door. The moment it swung open, he had you inside, slamming it shut behind him as he pressed you up against it, his lips crashing onto yours once again.

The kiss was even more intense this time, fueled by the knowledge that there were no more interruptions, no more delays. This was it. You were finally alone, and nothing was going to stop what came next.

His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, up your back, down to your thighs, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the anticipation becoming almost unbearable.

Lando’s lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice a low, seductive growl that made your heart race.

“I’m counting on it,” you replied breathlessly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you pulled him even closer, your body aching with need.

And with that, any remaining restraint between you shattered, the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiling over as Lando’s hands and lips claimed every inch of you, leaving you both lost in the heat of the moment, eager to make up for all the time you had spent longing for each other.

When his lips left yours again, you barely had time to catch your breath before they were on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. His hands continued their slow exploration, moving higher until they reached the curve of your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the contact, your back arching slightly as you pressed into his touch. Lando’s breath was hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, his hands moving to unhook your bra with practiced ease. The garment fell away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

“You have no idea how much I want this,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and desire. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

“Then stop teasing,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want you, Lando.”

Lando groaned softly at your words, his resolve crumbling as his hands began to roam lower, sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttoned them slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he tugged the fabric down your hips, leaving you in just your panties.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you standing before him, half-naked and completely vulnerable. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as his hands traced the curve of your hips, his thumbs brushing against the delicate lace of your panties.

Without another word, Lando’s hands moved to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs with agonizing slowness.

The cool air against your exposed skin only heightened your sensitivity, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Lando’s hands moved back up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle as he spread your legs wider. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to an exposed bit of skin, just behind your ear, before his fingers began their slow, torturous journey closer to your core.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as his fingers hovered just above where you wanted them most. He teased you, his fingertips brushing lightly against your sensitive skin, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. The tension in your body grew unbearable as Lando finally let his fingers slide through your wetness, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He began to move his fingers with expert precision, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, each moan, each gasp fueling his desire. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation building with every stroke. You could feel the pressure mounting, your body arching into his touch as you teetered on the edge of release.

But just as you were about to fall over the precipice, Lando’s movements slowed, his fingers pulling back, leaving you hanging in that unbearable space between pleasure and release. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips as you looked up at him, your body aching with the need for more.

But Lando only smirked up at you, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. “That’s for teasing me in the car,” he teased, his voice low and filled with satisfaction as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. You pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before your hands moved to the waistband of his jeans.

But before you could undo the button, Lando’s hands were on you again, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the kitchen counter. He placed you on the cool surface, his hands sliding up your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.

His lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his breathing heavy as he knelt down between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open before him.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his gaze locked on yours as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot. The first stroke of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your hands flying to his hair as you arched into him, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Lando’s tongue moved with precision, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every second. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, your body trembling with the need for release as he continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, just when you were about to tip over the edge, once again, Lando pulled back, leaving you gasping for breath, your body aching with the need for more.

“Lando!” you cried out, your voice filled with frustration as you looked down at him, your chest heaving with the effort to catch your breath.

Lando only chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I told you I would make you regret teasing me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with satisfaction as he nipped at your lower lip.

“You're lucky you're hot” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them with your fingers. You pushed the fabric down his hips, letting it fall to the floor as you slid off the counter, your hands moving to his hips, guiding him against the kitchen counter, sinking to your knees.

Lando’s breath hitched as you knelt before him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers as you looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eyes. “Is this what you want?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as your fingers brushed against his erection, the contact sending a shiver of pleasure through him.

“Please,” Lando groaned, his hands clutching at the counter behind him as he watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and lust. “Don’t tease me.”

But you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted to make him feel the same frustration, the same desperation that he had made you feel. Slowly, deliberately, you began to kiss your way up his thigh, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You look so good, Lan. You make me so wet.” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with a mix of challenge and desire as your fingers teased him, brushing against his erection but never quite touching him where he needed it most.

Lando’s hips jerked forward, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutched at the counter, his control slipping further with every touch, every kiss. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. “You’re killing me.”

You smiled up at him, your hands finally sliding up to his boxers, pulling them down to free his aching length. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sent a thrill of anticipation through you, your own arousal heightening as you took him in your hand, feeling the warmth and hardness of him against your palm.

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him slowly, your movements deliberate and teasing. Your thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, gathering the bead of moisture there before sliding back down his length. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low groan escaping his lips as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with need. His hands gripped the counter behind him, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. But you could see the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to every touch, every twist of your wrist.

You increased the pace slightly, your strokes becoming firmer, more purposeful as you worked him with your hand. Lando’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to keep his composure. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice sultry, dripping with seduction as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“God, yes,” Lando groaned, his head falling back as another moan slipped from his lips. “So fucking good.”

You smirked, your confidence growing with every sound of pleasure that escaped him. You changed your technique, your grip tightening slightly as you twisted your wrist at the top, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive underside of his tip in a way that made his hips jerk forward, his breath catching in his throat.

“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about?” you asked, your voice low and teasing as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. “Thinking about me, touching you like this?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to find the words. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. “Every night. Fuck, you have no idea.”

You smiled, satisfied with his response as you continued to stroke him, your movements becoming a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, his body trembling with the need for release. “Do you want more, Lando?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the base of his length as you spoke, sending a shiver through him. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

Lando’s eyes flew open, the raw need in them making your own arousal spike. “Please,” he groaned, his voice a desperate plea. “I need it. I need you.”

His words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and without breaking eye contact, you slowly lowered your head, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The sensation of his hard length filling you, the taste of him on your tongue, was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan as you began to move, your mouth working him with the same deliberate, teasing pace you had used with your hand.

Lando’s reaction was immediate, his hands flying to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to maintain control. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

Encouraged by his praise, you began to move faster, your tongue swirling around him, flicking against the sensitive underside as you bobbed your head, taking him in as deep as you could. You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles tightened and quivered under your touch, his body responding to every flick of your tongue, every suction of your lips.

You placed your hands on the back of his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh as you pulled him closer, encouraging him to let go, to give in to the pleasure. “Is this what you wanted?” you asked, pulling back just enough to speak, your voice breathy and filled with desire. “Is this what you’ve been dreaming about?”

“Yes,” Lando groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

His words only spurred you on, and you resumed your pace, your mouth working him with more intensity, more urgency as you brought him closer to the edge. His breathing grew ragged, his moans becoming more frequent, more desperate as he hovered on the brink of release.

But just as you felt him start to tense, his body trembling with the need for release, you pulled back, letting him slip from your mouth with a teasing smile. Lando let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back as his hands tightened in your hair, the sensation of being so close yet denied driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck,” Lando breathed out, his voice laced with desperation. His eyes were half-lidded, darkened with lust as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, that wicked glint in your eyes. “Why did you stop?”

“Two can play that game,” you whispered, your voice filled with playful challenge as you looked up at him, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his thigh. “How does it feel, Lando? To be so close and yet so far?”

Lando’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and raw need. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice rough with desperation, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that he was enjoying this, even if it was driving him crazy.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, heated kiss. “Fucking hell, you have no idea what you do to me” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against the counter.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the heat in his voice, the raw intensity of his words sending a surge of desire straight to your core. Lando’s lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly so he could press you even closer against the counter, his body flush against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands threading through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasingly flicking against his.

You could feel the tension building between you, the need to be even closer, but you couldn’t resist playing with him just a little more. You nipped at his lower lip, pulling back slightly to murmur against his mouth, “You’re holding back, Lando. What’s wrong? Afraid you can’t handle a little teasing?”

Your words drew a low, frustrated growl from him, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you, the playful spark in your gaze only spurring him on. “Oh, I can handle it,” he replied, his voice a rough whisper, full of promise. And with that, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands grabbing you by the waist as he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen as Lando carried you towards the bedroom, his grip on you firm, yet gentle, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The intensity in his eyes sent a thrill through you, your heart racing as you felt the cool air on your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, and before you knew it, you were on the bed, Lando hovering above you, his hands framing your face as he stared down at you with a mixture of love and raw need. The look in his eyes made your breath catch, the reality of the moment crashing over you. This was real. This was happening.

Lando’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, over your hips, before coming to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them.

But just as Lando was about to move lower, his lips brushing against the curve of your breast, he paused, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, but carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart swell.

“I’m sure, Lando,” you whispered, your voice filled with certainty and affection. “I want this. I want you.”

Lando’s eyes searched yours for a moment longer, as if making absolutely certain, before he spoke again, his tone gentle but serious. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured into anything. This… this means a lot to me. It’s more than just sex for me.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and concern in his voice making you fall even more for him. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin as you smiled up at him. “I don’t feel pressured at all. I want this just as much as you do, Lando. It means a lot to me too.”

Relief washed over his features, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t quite put into words. “Thank you,” he whispered against your lips, his hands gently caressing your sides as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing warmly against yours.

With that final confirmation, the last of his restraint melted away. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as Lando’s hands roamed your body with a newfound purpose, exploring every inch of you with reverence and need. His lips moved down your neck, to your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver with anticipation.

You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the evidence of his desire only fueling your own. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to your touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable now, the need for him becoming overwhelming as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you moan softly.

“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation as you arched into him, your body aching with the need for release. “I need you.”

Lando let out a low groan at your words, his hands sliding down to your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he whispered, “I want to make this perfect for you.”

“It already is,” you whispered back, your voice filled with affection as you cupped his face, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just make love to me, Lando.”

With a soft, almost reverent sigh, Lando pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly, gently, entered you. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and emotion that made you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he filled you completely.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his body trembling slightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you both adjust to the new, intimate connection. The feeling of him inside you, of being so close, so connected, was almost too much to bear, the intensity of it sending waves of pleasure and emotion crashing over you.

He began to move slowly, his thrusts gentle and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he made love to you with a tenderness that took your breath away. Every movement, every touch was filled with love, with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with affection for him.

You could feel the tension building again, the pleasure mounting with every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours. Lando’s hands roamed your body, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, your collarbone, as he whispered sweet, breathless praises in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with love and desire. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Lando,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion as you clutched at him, your body moving in sync with his. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, the raw truth of your feelings finally breaking free. Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, his movements slowing for a moment as he stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and affection as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. The words hung in the air between you, a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with happiness.

With those words still echoing in the air, Lando’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter in your belly as you held onto him, your body trembling with the need for release.

Lando’s breath was hot against your ear, his voice rough and filled with desperation as he whispered, “Come for me, love. I want to feel you.”

His words, the way he moved inside you with such passion and tenderness, was enough to send you over the edge. Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your breathless moans filling the room as you came undone in his arms.

The sensation of you tightening around him, the way you cried out his name in pure ecstasy, was enough to push Lando over the edge with you. With a few more deep, urgent thrusts, he followed you into bliss, his body trembling as he found his release, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people who had just found something they had both been longing for. Lando collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You held him close, your fingers running through his hair as you both came down from the high, your bodies still entwined, the connection between you stronger than ever.

“I love you,” Lando whispered again, his voice soft and filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I love you too,” you murmured back, your heart swelling with happiness as you held him close, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his body against yours, the contentment that filled you both as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of the most intense, passionate, and loving moment you had ever shared.

Masterlist | Promptlist (requests are still open)

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 #smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #formula 1 smut #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 2024 #mclaren f1

560 notes · View notes

whimsiwitchy · 2 days

Text

we broke up (one shot)

hugh jackman x f!reader

summary: you get dragged to a work event by your boyfriend of three years when Hugh comes to flirt with you. after you reluctantly tell him you’re taken, he backs off for the most part. a few months later, Hugh tells the story during an interview but little does he know you’re single now.

warnings: implied age gap (not mentioned), flirting while in a relationship (kinda)

authors note: here's a little oneshot I wrote tonight. enjoy <33

You’d been with your boyfriend, Rowan, for a few years now. He earned a degree in marketing and immediately got a job for a studio. While he enjoys his job and it brings in good money, the events he dragged you to were unbelievably boring. The company he worked for always had big parties after a success on a project. At first they were interesting, often running into celebrities here and there given that it was the success of their movie, but lately you found yourself sitting at the bar more often than not. It was routine at this point. Rowan would show you off for the first hour, then he would toss you aside to fend for yourself. You weren’t the biggest social butterfly, hence why you liked to sit alone, drinking.

Tonight wasn’t any different. You were at another party for the successful marketing for Deadpool and Wolverine. You’d heard a few whispers that the stars of the movie themselves were somewhere wandering around but you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing them. Rowan dumped you at the bar a little over thirty minutes ago and you’ve been sipping on some fruity little drink ever since, completely in your own world. You made small talk with the bartender every once and a while but you were mainly people watching.

“Mind if I join?” A deep Australian accent asks. You look up and see a gorgeous older man. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a pair of black expensive looking glasses. He was deliciously tall and had a thich salt and pepper beard. “Uh no, go ahead.” He sits in the bar stool next to you. He orders a drink from the bartender before returning his attention back to you. “Pardon me if this is too forward but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The comment takes you aback. “Oh um, thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say.” He looks down to your glass that’s nothing but melted ice at this point. “Can I buy you another drink?” He asks. “You probably shouldn’t. I’m taken…sadly.” You whisper the last part, unsure if he heard it or not. “Oh! I apologize for coming on to you. You’ve been sitting here by yourself for so long, I thought you might have come alone.” You huff out a laugh. “My boyfriend works for the company. He’s out there socializing or whatever.” You shrug and signal to the bartender, asking for another drink. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, you’d be on my arm all night.” He smirks. “Is that right?” You smile at him. Before he can answer, you feel your phone vibrate with a text from Rowan that reads ‘where are you babe? Time to leave.’

“Well, the boyfriends calling, I gotta go.” You carefully climb out of the chair and grab your jacket and purse off of the back. As you start to walk away, the man speaks again. “Wait! What’s your name?” You turn back to face him. “Y/n.” He smiles and repeats it. “I’m Hugh.” His answer surprises you. “Oh! Congrats on the movie. I didn’t even recognize you at first with the beard and all.” He laughs. “Bye Hugh.” You wave before walking off.

—

It’s been a few months since that night in July, it being September now. You and Rowan had broken up mid-August, both of you agreeing that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It hurt for a little bit but you knew it was for the best. Living with him had been awkward as you searched for a new place, deciding that he can keep the current apartment. You wanted a fresh start, which is where you are now. Tonight was your first night in your new apartment. You didn’t have any furniture yet but you were happy. You bought an air mattress to make do until you could afford an actual bed.

It was around midnight and you were doing your nightly youtube watch. You were scrolling through your recommended videos when you saw Hugh’s face pop up. It was an interview posted a few minutes ago from him on some late night show you’d never heard of. You clicked on it, wanting to hear what the man was up to these days. The interview was a standard one, mostly questions on his upcoming movie about some sheep. You weren’t really paying attention, close to dozing off when a question peaked your interest.

“So Hugh, it’s almost been a year since the announcement of your divorce and the fans wanna know…How’s your dating life doing? Are you seeing anyone?” The woman asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Hugh lets out a big laugh. “I’m actually not seeing anyone. It’s funny you ask because the last time I even attempted to flirt with a woman she turned me down.” The interviewer's eyebrows shoot up in shock. She gasps before asking, “How could anyone turn you down? We need to know the full story here.”

“Ryan and I were at this party for the marketing team that worked on Deadpool and Wolverine and I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar all alone.” The interviewer is nodding her head, engaging with every word Hugh says. “I eyed her for a while to see if anyone was with her but she sat there alone for a good thirty minutes before Ryan hyped me up to go over there. When I finally did, I ordered a drink and tried to play it cool but I felt the urge to tell this girl how stunning she was, so I did.” You giggle to yourself and you hear him tell the story from his point of view. “She thanked me and I offered to buy her another drink. I kid you not, in the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard she says ‘you probably shouldn’t, i’m taken.’” His hands go up to his chest, gripping right above his heart. “My heart broke mate. I flirted a little more in true Hugh fashion but she had to go. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since.”

“What a lucky woman, I’m sure she regrets it.”

“Hey, I tried my best.” He shrugs before looking at the camera. “Y/n, if you ever break up with him. I’m all yours baby.”

Your jaw drops, the sound of cheers blasting from your phone.

‘we broke up. I’m all yours. @/RealHughJackman’

You hit send on the tweet and hoped it would be enough to bring him back to you.

thank you for reading <3

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x younger!reader #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman imagines

452 notes · View notes

queensunshinee · 2 days

Text

His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

(part 1)

His favorit toy- Part 2:

Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.

Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?

A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.

Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.

"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.

"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.

"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.

"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.

"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.

"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.

"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?

"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.

Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.

That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.

"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.

"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.

‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.

‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.

‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.

"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.

“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.

“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.

All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.

“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.

“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.

“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.

I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.

“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.

His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.

He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.

“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.

"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .

The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-

'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-

'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.

I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.

The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.

"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."

. . .

So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys

#challengers fic #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #his favorite toy

177 notes · View notes

kiddiesmores · 1 day

Text

“𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢”: 𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Schlatt takes you home from work only to end up staying the night..

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT BRO. SMUT. More afab leaned but there is the use of she/girl, Schlatt is pretty dominant here, grrrr.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞: Yall. I’m so sorry for how long this took, lost my spark but I THINK I GOT IT BACK LETS GOOOOOO. Thank you @michibap for being my savior and giving me the push I needed to finish this chapter. I promise not to leave yall hanging for a month next time! (Might make it two if yall are mean to me again.) ENJOY!! I LOVE U!!! Also this picks up right where chapter two left off, to avoid your confusion.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

You look up at Schlatt with a grateful smile, taking the to-go box from him and opening it to see he did, in fact, give you broccoli with your food.

“I’m not eating that by the way.” you mutter, looking up at him with a quirked brow and a wag of your finger, making him chuckle as he shut the box with a shrug. “Yknow what I said, don’t eat it and you’ll have to pay me back for it.” He jokes, watching you groan and grumble as you put the to-go box in your bag.

You fiddle with your fingers, “There’s something I wanted to uh- ask you.” you mumble, dodging his gaze by taking interest in the wine selection on the table.

“Shoot.” he shrugs.

“Do you think you could maybe take me home?”

He stares at you for a second, digesting your question. He grins cockily, “You can’t drive yet?” he teases, leaning down further and watching your mouth flounder.

“It’s a work in progress okay!”

“Sure it is. Course I can, c'mon toots.” He nods, holding his hand out for you to take which you gladly do, gathering your belongings and heading out the to-go door as he shuts off the lights.

He locks up the doors, pointing you in the direction of his truck. “Didn’t take you as a truck driving guy.” You mock, making him scoff.

“Big words with someone with no license.”

“Get off my ass? Please?”

He sucks air through his teeth, “Don’t think I will, actually.” He smirks, opening the passenger door for you with a snicker when you roll your eyes, hopping in and flipping him off as he closes the door.

“So yeah, then Maggie told Chase that she knew all about it the entire time! And that she was just waiting for him to slip up on his own!”

“Wait-wait-wait- I’m behind, aren’t they married?”

“YES BRO.”

“Good lord.” Schlatt chuckles, a hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh as you fill him in on work drama that he doesn’t pay attention to.

“How did you not know about any of this? Swear we’ve all been talking about it for like- months!” you giggle, gazing at him as he shrugs and keeps his eye on the road. “I leave that to Rosie, none of my business.” You scoff, “All of it actually, you hired him!” “I didn’t know he’d fuck Kassie!”

You both fall forward with laughter, wiping a tear from your eye as you cough out a few more giggles, noticing him turning into your complex. A small pout forms on your lips as you realize your little venture home is over when he parks in front of your building.

He squeezes your thigh for a brief moment, looking over at you softly while you stare ahead,half smiling at the evident look of disappointment on your face. “I’ll uh..walk you up?” He mutters, causing your head to turn to him, “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

You smile nervously, mumbling a small, “Okay,” as you grab your bag, jumping out the ridiculously expensive truck as he turns it off, moving to wait for you on the sidewalk.

“After you?” he asks, holding a hand out for you to hold while you giggle and take it, guiding him upstairs to lead him to your shared apartment. As you approach your place your heart pounds, slowly turning to face him with your back pressed against the cool door.

“I’m right here- good ole 416B..” you mumble, looking up at him. The moon is full, the illumination softly painting his face as he gazes down at you, all meek and small in stature, he thinks you look absolutely adorable. His thumb grazes the back of your hand, a small chuckle escaping him as he takes in your nervous eyes and smiles. “Thank you for taking me home, I really appreciate it.” you whisper, feeling him lean in closer, his breath hitting your lips as you start to do the same.

“Anytime..” he whispers back, staring into your eyes. You both linger for a moment, waiting to see what happened next. “You gonna kiss me or…?” you ask, tilting your head with a coy smile, making him roll his eyes and close the distance. Your lips mold together, holding in place for a moment before he parts only for a moment, pulling you back in for another. And another. And another.

Your tote is on the ground, arms wrapped around his neck while you lean up on your tiptoes and his strong arms wrap around your torso. A soft sigh escapes you between kisses, gasping as his lips travel from your lips to your jaw down to your neck. “Schlatt..” you whisper, eyes shut as he lightly sucks on the warm skin of your neck with a gentle groan.

“Do you wanna come in?” you mumble, eyes still closed as you feel him pull back. He stares down at you for a second, your eyes fluttering back open to meet his stare, “Yeah, yeah I do.”

It all happened so quickly.You unlock the door with haste and slam your bag down on the floor, both of you immediately kissing again and even somehow managing to wrap your legs around his waist, as he carries you to your bedroom. He steps on your roommate's dog toy, causing you both to pull apart with a yelp, quickly looking at each other before giggling, heads tilting to rest on each other to catch your breath before patting his shoulder to put you down.

You take your hand in his, guiding him to your bedroom, pushing open the door to be met with the soft lighting of the moon shining through your open blinds.

Your room was foreign to him, obviously. Accents of pinks and forest green decor scattered across your bed spread and posters. A few pieces of laundry on your floor, your backpack for class on your desk chair and a bulletin board of pictures above it, your room was for sure lived in. He found himself staring at the pictures of you and your friends you had scattered, turning to sit down at the edge of your bed and—woah.

His eyes lit up as they landed on the cat tree in the corner, inspecting it while you turned the lamp on on your bedside table. “You have a cat?” he asks, looking around the room.

You nod, “Yeah, she’s a little scared of new people, mostly guys so just give her a second! Missy? C'mere baby!” you call, hearing a muffled “meooow” from under your bed and a black and red paw swatting from underneath. “Aww there you are, come out and say hi!” you coo, pulling her from underneath and cradling her in your arms like a baby.

Schlatts eyes lit up, awwing as he scratched at the calicos head, taking her from your arms as her head digs against his hand. “She really likes you! And she is a D1 man hater!” you beam, scratching under her chin as he holds her against him with a chuckle. “Nahh, she’s a doll, just like her mom.” he quips, winking at you as your brain malfunctions.

He pretends not to notice, setting Missy down in her cat tree with a kiss to her head. You sit at the edge of your bed taking him in. His long black sleeve shirt and dark wash jeans are really doing it for you, the light stomp of his steel toed boots padding closer as he stands between you.

You look up at him, doe eyes meeting his low ones, whispering out a “Hi..” while you look up at him all pretty, making him offer you a sly smile in return before muttering back a “Hello.”

His knee digs between your legs to part them, hand cupping your neck as he leans down to kiss you again, making you whimper a bit as you lean back onto your bed, his body hovering above you. Soft smacks echo in the room, both of you hungrily nipping and biting each other's lips as your noses press together.

His hand slides down, gripping your waist, holding you in place as he grinds against your hips. You gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with a low “Mmmf..” His grip tightens as he pulls away, a string of spit connecting you two while your eyes stare into his, full of admiration.

He returns the look with a smug smile, “I really did plan on taking you out before we did all this y'know..” he jokes, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, just get my shorts off.” “Yes ma’am.”

As he starts to unbutton your shorts you peep your kitty in her cat tree, eyes widening before stopping him from going any further. “Wait!” you squeal, standing up and lightly shoving Schlatt to the side, making him grunt and land on the edge of your bed while you make your way to the cat tree to grab Missy.

You hold her up while Schlatt looks at you with a bewildered stare, making you smile sheepishly, “Didn’t want her to see..” you mutter, opening your door and setting her down to leave, which she does, just to go and scratch on your roommates door instead. As you shut the bedroom door you shuffle down your shorts, kicking them across your floor to join your pile of dirty ones.

Schlatt chuckles, making you turn around, “What?” you question with a small chuckle of your own. He shakes his head, “Your panties are cute.” he jokes, making you look down in fear. You totally forgot you were wearing underwear with smiley faces on them.

“Oh..” you mumble, making him laugh a little harder, shaking his head and waving you back over, “C'mere pretty.” he mutters, hands wrapping around your hips to drag you into his lap. You quickly oblige, thighs falling to both his sides as his hands rest on your ass, head tilted up to meet yours and flowing back into your heated kiss from earlier. His hands grip your ass making you moan into his mouth, mewling a bit as he rocks you back and forth.

He flips you back on the bed, bulge in his jeans pressing against your core. You whine, pulling back with a small pout, noticing he’s still fully clothed. “So I get naked and you’re still in..” you look down, “Boots, jeans, and your shirt?” you tease with a smile, watching as his tongue presses to the side of his cheek while he stands up. His hands quickly shuffle with his belt, muttering a “Fuck, hold on.” as he throws it on the floor, chucking his boots off simultaneously.

You can only stare in awe as his pants come next, lost to the sea of lost clothes leaving him in his shirt and boxers. Your thighs clench, the heat between your legs feeling more unbearable every second he’s not touching you. He notices your internal struggle with a smug grin, “Let’s get your shirt off baby.” He grunts, pulling from the hem up and over your head, your tits spilling out your bra from the force.

He stares shamelessly, whispering a small “Fuck.” before demanding for you to take it off, which you scramble to do. He groans at the sight of you, chest exposed and left in your cute panties, it’s a struggle not to just pull them to the side and pound you right then and there but he knew you needed more help first.

Your head tilts with confusion as he starts to get on his knees, gasping when he presses a kiss to the wet spot seeping through your underwear. He lets out a deep sigh, hands gripping your thighs and forcing them to stay apart. He looks up, eyes searching or any look of doubt on your face, which he doesn’t find, your eyes meeting his and hazily nodding for him to continue. He smiles, sinking his face in to pull your panties to the side with his teeth, the cool air from your bedroom hitting your glistening mound, making you hiss.

He buries his face into your heat, wasting no time lapping at your wet cunt while you moan above him, head thrown back onto your soft comforter as your feet curl and legs slightly thrash. He groans into you, palms gripping your thighs to push up your legs, catching a glimpse of your sweet contorted face.

You whine at the loss of his mouth, quieting as he shushes you and spreads your legs back apart. “I need you to put your legs here,” he pats his shoulders, “and lock your legs tight around my head, I don’t want to be able to move. Do you hear me?”

You bat your lashes with a meek nod, but that’s not good enough for him. “Speak. Do you. Hear me? I need to hear you say you want it sweetheart.” “Yes, yes..” you whimper, tightening a bit when he grumbles out a rough, “Good.” before yanking your panties down to your ankles, dropping them near his pants to take home later.

“Yer so pretty like this doll..” he mutters, diving back in to lap at your folds, waiting for you to follow his instructions. You let out a shaken breath, placing one leg on each shoulder and interlocking your thighs around his face, squeezing as tight as you can to keep him landlocked in place.

You taste so good, and god it’s driving him crazy but he needs you to squeeze tighter, but he knows this is your limit. He takes matters into his own hands, squeezing your thighs to lock him in further, letting out a deep groan when he hears your pitch get higher while you moan. His hips rut into the end of your bed at the taste and sound of you, only to growl when he hears you suddenly sound muffled.

He forcefully pulls back, your legs falling from the lack of stability making you gasp, eyes bulging as you stare down at his pissed off expression. “Wh-“

“If I can’t hear you when your legs are covering my ears, you aren’t loud enough.”

You shake your head, “My roommate-“ “I don’t fuckin care about that!” he interrupts, “I need to hear that pretty voice of yours or else I'm not gonna know if you like it.”

Your eyes soften, nodding with a small “Okay..” watching as he sighs and gets back into position. Your voice is low at first, high pitched but still quiet before you see him scowl up at you, silently telling you to be louder. You huff, head tilting back as you decide “fuck it” and let the pleasure take over you, the accidental edging really doing a number on you as you rut on his face while his tongue fucks your hole. He’s trapped between your legs just as he wanted, grunting and groaning at the taste of you coating his tongue while he ruts harder into the end of the bed.

You know you’re getting closer, hands gripping onto the sheets as you grind on his mouth, his nose bumping your clit ever so slightly but enough to send you over the edge. He loudly laps at your gushing cunt, hands spreading your legs with ease while he looks up at you with a mischievous smile, staring into your eyes as the tip of his tongue glides between your puffy folds and lands on your clit, swirling with a playful look in his eye as you try to push him away weakly with your hand.

“Please..” you mutter, making him chuckle lightly as he presses one more kiss to your pussy before slowly crawling back up and hovering over you. “Wanna taste yourself baby?” he grumbles, watching as you nod slowly and dumb, batting your pretty lashes as his mouth gets closer to yours.

Your eyes shut as he kisses you, huffing quietly as you suck on his tongue making him groan. He feels your hand slowly slides under his shirt causing him to suck in heavily through his nose, reaching behind himself to catch it from going too far. You flinch,“Oh m’sorry-“ “You have nothing to be sorry for.” he comforts softly, lips moving to kiss your neck.

He struggles internally, brain rapidly reminding him not to sink his teeth into your skin, not trying to mark any visible places to avoid your embarrassment at work. Instead, his lips trail to your tits, sucking and nipping on your left while his hand gropes your right. He alternates, leaving a trail of hickeys down the valley of your breasts while gazing hungrily up at you through high lashes, laying his tongue flat against your nipple.

Your sweet gasps and huffs rile him up further, finally deciding you’ve had enough when you stare down at him with your eyes just as hungry as his. He stands back up, peering around the room scratching his head sheepishly, “You got a rubber?”

Your eyes widen for a moment with excitement, nodding and pointing to your bedside table, watching as he hovers over you and presses his bulge against your aching core while he rummages hrough your dresser, wicked grin on his face when he hears your high pitched mewl.

He finally finds one, looking you in the eye as he rips the package open with his sharp teeth, watching your chest rise and fall with labored breaths as you both anticipate what is to come.

He lets out a deep shaky sigh, head falling against your shoulder for a split second making your head turn to look at him confused, “Are you okay?” you whisper gently, hand cupping his nape, nails lightly scratching his hair. He nods into your shoulder, “I’m nervous as shit.” He gripes, causing a loud laugh to shoot out of you while you coo playfully, watching the faux scowl on his face form when he looks at you.

You aww, kissing his nose, “Coulda fooled me..” you mutter, pressing another quick kiss to his lips, “Take your time..”

“Mnn..” he mumbles against your lips, free hand slipping down his boxers while he has you distracted. He grins as you pepper sweet little kisses on his cheeks, turning away to look down between your bodies as he lines up between your legs. You peep down as well, catching a glimpse of how big he truly is, muttering a small “Damn.” making him stifle out a laugh.

“That gonna fit?” “We’re about to see.” he jokes, slowly sinking the tip in making you both let out a deep groan. A trembling whimper escapes you, toes flexing as he slowly pushes deeper with a small shush in your ear, “You’re doing so good, just a bit more, can you take it?” He purrs, nipping your lobe, only receiving a rough grunt from you in response.

He tsks with a slick grin, “Words pretty, use your words.” He teases, pinching your hip slightly making you yelp, “Yes.” you hiss we he captures your lips once more, slowly bottoming out inside of you taking the air out of your lungs.

“Buuuhhh..” you let out while he sucked on his teeth, “Fuuuuck, see baby, shit- knew you could take it.”

He holds still for a moment, knowing if he moved he’d bust immediately. His face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and mouthing at your skin, kissing up your jaw to your lips and resting his forehead against yours.

He takes another beat before whispering, “You ready pretty?”

“Uh-huh.” “Uh-huh,” He mocks, sliding out slowly with a sharp hiss and pressing back in with a deep groan, hands tightly gripping your hips as his mouth hangs open and his brows pull together. “Gonna move again baby okay?”

You start to nod, but you hear the click of his tongue, remembering he wants to hear you say it. “Okay..” you breathe, whimpering when he mutters a gruff “There’s my girl,” before slowly thrusting in and out. You felt insanely dizzy, trying to quiet your pathetic moans when your ears filled with the sounds of your slick and his harsh grunts and low groaning.

His hands roam from your hips to your stomach, feeling the bulge as he begins thrusting all the way in, losing his control a bit as he gets more riled up. Your feet flex, moans airy and high pitched as your eyes remain squeezed shut, which simply won’t do for him.

He takes one hand and brings it to your jaw, holding your face in front of his as he slips a finger in between your pouty lips, “Open those eyes for me pretty, let me look at ya..”

He doesn’t miss the way your teeth grit to hold back from yelling out from the immense pleasure he’s giving you, landing you a slap on the side of your thigh, “Don’t fuckin hold out on me.”

His thumb bullies its way in your mouth, pressing on your tongue and watching you suck, keeping eye contact as you withdraw with a lewd ‘pop,’ throwing your head back with a drawn out moan. You weakly shake your head, catching yourself when you remember Brooke in the opposing room. “C-can’t,” you pant, “My roommate-“

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t fuckin care, let me hear ya.” He mutters, hands pushing up the bend of your legs to press them into your chest for a deeper angle. You can’t help but feel dizzy, throwing out your logical thinking and doing as he asks, gasping as he straightens your legs and holds them with an arm and resting your feet on his shoulder. He keeps you steady, huffing as he plunges into your dripping cunt with a hot kiss to your ankle, a proud grin on his face as you shamelessly moan out his name.

His head falls back, feeling you tighten around him, “Fuck- you look so pretty under me. Tighten up around me one more time like that shit.”

You’re a babbling mess under him, head spinning as if it’s on cloud nine, your body going lax in his grip. You know you can’t hold out much longer, all the while Schlatt’s teeth grit, determined to get you to cum before he does. You whimper about how close you are, hands clutching the sheets beneath you while he chuckles and presses in further, “What did I say baby, don’t hold out on me, come on. Come for me.”

He fucks you through your orgasm, your back arching as you call out for him. He’s not far behind, pressing as deep as possible and grunting loudly as he cums. He holds you there for a moment, basking in the feel of your pulsing core around him while he empties his load.

You both pant as he pulls out with a gruff sigh, lowering your legs and hips back down onto the mattress. He coos as you weakly rub your aching hip, pulling off the extremely full condom with lidded eyes as he stares down at you. He starts to tie it, but your stomach looks too bare.

It’s almost like clockwork, absentmindedly pouring his load onto your stomach and smearing it around with his thumb with a wicked grin on his lips when you mewl at the stickiness.

He falls next to you, hand cupping the side of your face as he asks if you’re okay, allowing you to catch your breath. You nod, sleepy eyes peering at him, “M’fine, are you staying the night?”

He blinks, thinking for a second, “Wasn’t planning on it but, might as well yeah?” He teases, finger lightly tickling under your chin making you giggle and clumsily swat his hand away.

The longer you lay there the ickier you feel, face scrunching whenever you try to roll over and feel his cum drying on your stomach. He makes you direct him to your bathroom, lifting you and carrying you inside so you pee. He sifts through your cabinet for a wash cloth, soaking it in warm water as you watch him from the toilet. He kneels to wipe at your stomach, a bit of his cum still wet to catch on his thumb.

He offers it to your puffy lips jokingly, which you take and lick off with a soft stare, making him groan a bit, grumbling out a “You minx,” before wiping the dried cum off with the wet towel.

When he finishes cleaning you up you hobble back to the bedroom in search of your phone, legs wobbling and causing him to chuckle as you resembled a baby deer.

Your phone lights up under the pile of discarded clothes, squinting when the brightness blinds you. You’re greeted with a string of texts, all from your roommate.

Bookie 🍓:“WHO IS DOING THIS TO YOU???”

Bookie 🍓:“A MAN IS DOING THIS?”

Bookie 🍓:“IS IT SCHLATT?? -CHARLIE”

Bookie 🍓:“EWEWEWEW YUCKKK (congrats) YUCKKKK”

Bookie 🍓: “Heard you say you want to be quiet because I’m here, thanks for thinking of me when bro is laying pipe ❤️”

Your face contorts, full of horror and slight amusement as you quickly type back about a million apologies for the noise and a promise to tell her all about it tomorrow.

Schlatt watches with confusion as his arm hangs sleepily above his head, watching you knock on the shared wall three times and receiving three back from the opposing side.

“What’s that all about?” he mutters, watching you turn back to look at him with a shy expression. “Just sayin sorry..” you mumble, shushing him as he cackles loudly, wiping a fake tear and opening his arms telling you to “Cmere.”

You crawl over to him, resting on top of him while he pulls the blanket to cover both your bodies. He lazily strokes your back, lightly pecking at your shoulder as you hum against his chest.

The two of you lay in silence for a bit, nuzzled in each other's warmth even when he turned you both to the side. He sighs deeply, making you sleepily look up at him with a confused stare. He shakes his head, “Gotta be up at 6 to be back at the store.” he grunts, lightly chuckling when you grimace with a small “Eugh.”

“Should probably get some sleep then yeah?” You joke as his thumbs stroke your hips, softly nodding before offering you one last kiss against your lips before the two of you fall asleep in each other's hold, faces pressed into each other's necks and breathing in your scents.

The next morning his alarm blares, causing you to flinch while he lazily reaches over to silence it. He grunts out a “Mornin’,” kissing your forehead. You hum sleepily, whining as he shuffles unwillingly out of your grasp with a light shush. He yawns and stretches as he stands, eyes tired as he tries to find his discarded clothes on the ground, muttering a low “Fuck!” when he steps on one of Missys toys, making you giggle.

“You gotta get this shit under control.” he glares, scoffing when you shrug with a teasing smile. He shakes his head as he dresses, feeling your eyes on him the entire time. “So about that date,” he starts, forcing his boots on, “There’s this diner I like downtown,” he looks at you over his shoulder, “You okay with breakfast for dinner?”

You smile sweetly with a nod, “That sounds perfect.”

He beams at you, standing and walking over to your side of the bed, leaning down to kiss your lips and stroking your cheek with his hand. “Good, I’ll grab ya around 8.”

You nod, kissing his palm as he slides it away from your face. He grabs his keys and wallet from your bedside table, walking to your bedroom door, “Get some more rest sweetheart, I’ll see ya tonight.” He reaches down to grab your panties from the night before, pocketing them with a sly grin.

“Have a good shift!” you mumble rolling your eyes playfully, sleepily waving goodbye with a tired smile which he returns, shutting your door behind him. There he met with Charlie, also saying bye to your roommate.

The two stare at each other for a moment, Charlie with a stupid shit eating grin and Schlatt with an expressionless stare.

He sighs as Charlie follows behind him, ignoring his snide comments about the two of you as they head out the door.

“Sooo, you and y/n huh?” he teases as he follows Schlatt down the stairs. Schlatt scoffs, “Bring it up at work and you’re dead.” He threatens, jaw tightening.

Charlie raises his hands in defense, “Heard!” he laughs, splitting ways on the way to his car as Schlatt heads to his truck.

Schlatt turns back before Charlie gets into his car, calling out for him, “But between us,”

He turns to look back at Schlatt, seeing the pleased smile on his face, “I like her a lot.”

Charlie smiles back, arms crossing as his head tilts, “You don’t say?”

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #86 mahi mahi!#jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt smut #jschlatt imagine #schlatt #schlatt x y/n

186 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 days

Note

At Bucky & R’s wedding, Steve gets everyone to chant “ONE OF US!” at the end of his best man speech, and Bucky gets flushed in the face— before R leans over and tells him that it’s okay, because it’s just more proof that she’s his and everyone knows it.

Yours and Only Yours » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader (Newlyweds)

Summary: You assure Bucky that you’re his and Steve chanting “ONE OF US!” is just more proof that you’re Bucky’s and everyone knows it.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

Today couldn’t have been more perfect for you and Bucky. It’s yours and his wedding day. You two just got married and now you two can officially say that you’re newlyweds. As of right now, you two are enjoying the your wedding reception with your friends and family.

You and Bucky held hands lovingly as your maid of honor, Natasha gave her maid of honor speech. Steve is next with his best man speech. Everyone applauded Natasha at the end of her speech. Steve stood up, talking her place in front of everyone. He had a lot of nice things to say about you guys.

“I knew you and I would be great friends when Bucky introduced you to me.” Steve smiles at you and Bucky. “You and I are so close that I can call you my sister. I don’t know what it’s like to have siblings, but I’m sure we’ll figure that out together.” He says, making everyone laugh lightly.

Every word Steve said is true and it made you smile. It made Bucky smile too, knowing that his best friend is very fond of his wife. Steve continued his best man speech, getting to the part of the speech he’s been waiting to say since you and Bucky got engaged. Steve turned his attention to you and Bucky before saying it.

“Y/N, now that you’re married to my best friend, I can officially say that you’re one of us.” He smiles. “ONE OF US!” He chants loudly.

Sam joined in on the chanting and so did everyone else. Bucky smiles with a flushed look on his face. You notice and put your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with his and leaned over.

“It’s ok.” You whispered in his ear. “It’s just proof that everyone knows I’m yours and only yours.” You said softly. “Plus, this gorgeous diamond ring is even more proof that I’m your wife.” You say, kissing his cheek.

The flushed look on Bucky’s face faded away when you said those assurances. He turned his head and kissed your lips softly and sweetly. Everyone applauded when they seen you two kissing, making you and Bucky smile and laugh lightly against each other’s lips. Sam stood up and stood next to Steve.

“I have something to say…” Sam announces. “Enjoy your honeymoon next week.” He tells you and Bucky. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” He says and sat back down.

Everyone couldn’t help but laugh. You bursted into a fit of giggles, leaning your forehead against your husband’s shoulder. Bucky had a smirk on his face when Sam said that. Steve concluded his best man speech with a few more words before sitting down. Soon, everyone went to the dance floor and danced the night away.

“What Steve said is sweet.” You said, gazing up at your husband.

“Mhmm.” Bucky hums in agreement. “What Sam said was interesting too.” He smirks. “We are going to enjoy our honeymoon next week.” He whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Keep it PG13, Buck. There’s kids here.” You remind him.

“I know.” He said. “I’m just pointing it out.” He says with a smirk.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

@cevansbaby-dove

-Bucky’s Doll

176 notes · View notes

lucy90712 · 2 days

Note

Headcanon for all the boys you want to write this for :

He overhears reader talking to a family member/ friend about how *the boys* are the one for her and just talks about a longtime future with them

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Gavi:

- you have a free day for once so Gavi begs you to come to his training session with him but he didn't need to do much to convince you as you haven't been to training with him in a while as you've been busy with school and work plus you haven't seen the rest of the guys in ages

- as Gavi is still recovering from his injury his training sessions look a little different so he started his exercises after the rest of the team but kept training after everyone else finished so you watch him for a minute until the rest of the guys call you over

- It's been a while since you last saw most of the guys so you catch up on what you've been up to which for you isn't a very interesting as you have the same routine almost every day with school during the week and work on the weekends

- the conversation turned to your relationship pretty quickly and how things have been as Gavi has been able to do more and have more of his normal life back then the boys start talking about how sappy Gavi is and how he never shuts up about you

- you tell them that you are the same way and you couldn't care less as you can't imagine being sappy with anyone other than Gavi as he is your past present and future

- they tease you for saying that but you didn't care as it's the truth you love Gavi with every fibre of your being and you don't want to be with anyone else for the rest of your life he is the one for you

- Gavi overhears you saying all of that which puts a big smile on his face for the rest of his training session and for the rest of the day it makes him so happy to hear as he feels the exact same way about you but he didn't want to just say it

- he never tells you that he heard what you said but he thinks about it all the time whenever he has a bad day and he gets home and sees you it reminds him instantly of what you said and lifts his mood immediately

- all it takes is for him to realise that as long as he has you all of the little meaningless things don't matter as in 5 days or 5 years you will still be by his side supporting him and those little thing won't even still be in his memory

- that conversation you had without you knowing he could hear you will forever be his little pick me up and he never plans to tell you as he doesn't see the need to embarrass you by telling you what he heard

Pedri:

- every summer Pedri takes you with him back to Tenerife with him to spend time with his family and to just relax but you didn't mind one bit as you love it there and you love his family

- ever since Pedri introduced you to his family you have been really close with his mum she was glad to have female presence around and you were happy to spend time with her and create a bond with Pedri's family

- seeing as you don't get to see each other too much Pedri's mum asks if you want to have a girls day when you are in Tenerife with Pedri and who would you be to say no to a girls day

- the two of you go and get lunch and get your nails done together before going back to Pedri's house to sit outside by the pool in the sun with cocktails seeing as Pedri wasn't there when you got there

- while you are sat outside you get to talking about your future and because you feel comfortable around his mum you tell her that you don't see yourself doing anything without Pedri by your side and how you never want to have to love your life with anyone else

- as you are saying these things Pedri arrives home and starts to listen while standing at the back doors of the house he hears every word you say which just warms his heart as he knew you two were in love but to hear you put it that way really makes him happy

- at some point you see a figure standing behind you out of the corner of your eye and you freak out until you realise it's Pedri but then you freak out even more thinking about what he heard as you didn't know if what you said would be too much for him

- he quickly makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek and whispers in your ear that he wouldn't want to experience anything in life without you which makes you feel just as warm and fuzzy inside as Pedri did when he heard you say it

- his mum hears what he said to you and it makes her smile knowing that her son has found someone special who he loves and who loves him back equally as much

Jude:

- being back in England for the summer means seeing family and this year as the summer break was shorter due to the euros and after spending the whole time in Germany with Jude when you fly back you go straight home to spend time with your family while Jude goes to see his

- you spend a few weeks apart before you travel up to spend the last part of your time in England with Jude and his family as before you know it you will be back in Madrid and you want to make sure you see everyone before life takes over again

- Jude is glad to have you back as he's missed you and Jobe is excited to see you too as you get on well with him and it's been a while since you've seen him

- they had a sibling day planned for the day you arrived back as you came a bit early but they were quick to change their plans and invite you along and they both say that it will be more fun with you there anyway

- you all spend the day together walking around town and going in all sorts of little stores on the high street most of which you only go in to get away from big groups of fans who want pictures with Jude and Jobe

- to end the day all three of you go for dinner and at some point Jude goes to the bathroom leaving you to talk with Jobe so he starts asking about how Madrid has been for you and you talk about how it was difficult to adjust at first but Jude helped you feel at home

- that leads you on to saying how you could do anything if Jude was by your side as he just gets you and always knows how to help you through things or what you need at any moment which you don't think that anyone else could do

- Jobe then asks if you think you'll be with Jude for the rest of your life and you say that you have no doubt that Jude is the one for you and you don't want to spend the rest of your life with anyone else

- Jude heard all this as he walked back over and he can't help but smile knowing that you are so happy with him as all he really wants is for the both of you to be happy together and he tells you that as he sits back down which makes you blush as you know that he heard you

Ruben:

- You and Ruben spent a few days away just the two of you after the euros but after that his friends invited him to join them for a few days on a boat so he asked you and you agreed so that's where you went

- Ruben introduced you to his friends a long time ago but you don't get to see them very often so you hadn't met their girlfriends before but they were quick to introduce themselves and they all seemed really sweet

- you spend most of the few days on the boat talking to the girls and getting to know them so by the time the last day rolls all of you are so comfortable talking to each other about anything which is when they start to gush over your relationship with Ruben and how loving he is towards you

- they keep insisting that you have the perfect relationship but you tell them that you are nowhere near perfect but because you know that you want this relationship to last forever you have learnt how to make compromises and nit fight about the little things that mean nothing

- Ruben overhears you saying that which only solidifies in his mind that you are the one for him and it encourages him to take the initiative and take your relationship to the next step

- the day after your last day on the boat Ruben plans a whole day where it's just the two of you doing lots of fun little activities which ends with a trip to the beach for a picnic for dinner as the sun sets

- just as the sun has gone down and the sky is all sorts of beautiful colours Ruben brings you closer to the waters edge where he suddenly gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him

- he has a whole speech to tell you how much he loves you and why which he ends with mentioning what you said on the boat the day before which you had no idea he heard but it makes you happy that he resonated with what you said

- if the girls didn't think your relationship was perfect before they definitely do after they hear the story of your engagement at a dinner Ruben organised to celebrate it

#gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #football imagine #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #pedri #gavi #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias

131 notes · View notes

gunnerfc · 12 hours

Note

Could you possibly do a sickfic with Steph Catley where R is her younger sister (like 25 or something) and R gets the flu or like has a migraine and Steph takes care of her? R can be a player or do something else up to you.

Also I hope coming back goes smoothly and just a pre-reminder don't listen to any of the mean anons, they are just keyboard warriors

S. Catley & Sister!Reader - Doctor’s Orders | WC: 801

AN: arsenal Reader! hope you enjoy bff! 🫂

You tried your hardest to hide your cough as you got out of your car at the training grounds, hoping it was just a little cold that would pass by the end of the day. You sniffled as you entered the building, waving hello to the office staff as you made your way to the locker room. Just as you were about to enter, a coughing fit hit and you could tell this wasn’t just a cold.

You opted to keep it to yourself, knowing you would be sent home, and with Champions League games just around the corner, you knew you needed to be on your A-game. In the midst of your coughing, you failed to notice your sister coming down the hall with Lia.

“Y/n,” Steph’s voice pulled you out of your coughing fit and you turned to look at her with wide eyes. Steph was the last person you wanted to see right now, knowing she would be the first one to send you home.

“Hi, Steph. Hi, Lia,” you mumbled, avoiding their eyes, finding the pictures on the wall more interesting. Lia laughed softly at your avoidance before excusing herself, giving you a light pat on the back as she passed by you.

You refused to meet your older sister’s gaze until she cleared her throat, waiting for you to look at her. You turned your head slightly with a pained expression, all the coughing had started to cause your head to ache as well.

“Steph…,” you started but were quickly stopped when the defender’s hand was raised to your forehead to check your temperature.

“You’re burning up, Y/n/n,” Steph mumbled, as she moved the back of her hand to your check before dropping it. “You should be resting, at home,” she said, with a pointed look.

You sighed softly before opening your mouth to try and defend yourself but instead of speaking, another round of coughing hit you. You sniffled once more after the coughing had subsided and you dropped your head slightly, knowing Steph was right.

“I have to meet with the trainers about my injury, it shouldn’t take long. Why don’t you go wait for me in my car and I’ll take you home,” Steph offered softly, you knew it was no use trying to argue with her, she knew she would get her way.

You nodded softly before making your way back outside to her car, dropping to the passenger seat to wait for her. After a couple of minutes, you could feel your eyes getting heavy as you fell asleep. You were woken up once you heard the car door open and Steph was lightly shaking you, telling you that you were back at your apartment. You must have slept the whole way back.

Steph helped you to the door, unlocking it with the spare key you gave her when you moved in. You quickly slipped your shoes off before dropping to the couch, sighing once you were able to rest comfortably.

“You need to eat something first, y/n/n,” Steph’s voice echoed from your kitchen, earning a low groan from you. You knew she was right but you were ready to fall asleep. “Here,” her voice was a lot closer this time, as you opened your eyes to see her sitting a bowl of hot soup on the coffee table.

You mumbled a hoard thank you as you sat up, pulling the bowl up so you could eat. Steph disappeared to your bathroom, looking for medicine that might help with your cough and stuffiness. You sighed softly as the warm soup soothed your sore throat, quickly emptying the bowl just as Steph returned with cold medicine.

You sat the bowl back on the table and Steph picked it up as she handed you the correct number of pills that the label stated. She was quick to take the dirty dish back to the kitchen and return with a glass of water so you could easily take the medicine. You downed the medicine with a sip of water before placing the glass on the table and making yourself comfortable on the couch once more.

“Get some rest, and hopefully you’ll feel a bit better when you wake up,” your sister spoke softly as she took a seat on the other end of the couch.

“You’re gonna stay the whole time,” you questioned with a small yawn, eyes closing as you were close to sleep.

“Of course,” the defender smiled softly as she turned the TV on with a low volume. You were out after that, your body was tired from the sickness, but you were glad to have Steph there in case you needed her. Playing for the same team as your older sister has its perks sometimes.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #matildas x reader #auswnt x reader #steph catley x reader #steph catley

96 notes · View notes

tcmmykinard · 1 day

Text

so i really really hate asking this. and i've tried to avoid it, but every resource i've found in my town isn't able to help me and i'm really struggling. last week i received a bank statement saying i had -$150, and i've managed to get my balance back to a very low positive amount via help from my aunt, but she can't help me with all of my bills and, with my currently being in the process of filing for disability and only able to work a small amount of hours per week, i have reached a point where my saved funds have run out and i really have no idea where to go from here.

my brother currently lives with me and he's thankfully able to help me with some of the bills and part of our rent that's going to be coming in the next month, but he can't afford everything and i need to come up with about $600 to cover my expenses and rent per month.

i know that times are hard for a lot of people but i'm really not sure where else to turn to right now and i don't really have a lot to offer in return, but i've seen others offer gif commissions for small prices before and i would absolutely do so if anyone would be interested.

any help is truly very appreciated ❤❤

my ko-fi / paypal

#ko-fi #signal boost #uh i really don't know what to tag this as #personal #i guess

81 notes · View notes

storm-and-starlight · 2 days

Text

Meteoric

This was originally from a larger fic idea that in retrospect wouldn't have worked, but I really liked this one scene, so it's getting posted on its own!

Damian Wayne is ten years old and trapped in a country he doesn't know with a Batman he was never supposed to be heir to and he is learning how to fall.

"I know how to fall," he snaps, irritated already -- he has already been trained, by people better than Grayson will ever be. It's more than muscle memory at this point -- it's more like running, breathing, the step and flex and roll to come back up already swinging.

"Do you now," Grayson says, trying for amused and interested and ending up with tired instead. "Off of buildings?"

"Yes," because how different can it be, really, except they're up on the pinnacle of Wayne Tower already, so high he can barely make out the shapes of the cars below them, looking out on the wide stretch of the city, darkened smoky stone and warm golden lighting and the great black expanse of the sea beyond it all. He has seen the images of his Father surveying his city, settled on the snarling head of a gargoyle or in the darkness behind neon lights, wrapped in shadow. Grayson is no master of stealth, no darkly watchful presence -- he leans wildly out over the gap, cape bannering out behind him in the wind, and looks up.

"Okay," Grayson says, still sounding tired, and turns to look at him. The cowl does not suit him; his chin is too narrow. "Wayne Tower's a good reference point if you need to get somewhere fast -- it's got good access to most of the major roads, and it's high enough you can grapple pretty much anywhere without slowing down too much."

"Yes," says Damian, "obviously."

"So, we're going to use it as practice," and Grayson fires a grapple at the neighboring skyscraper, checks it with a hard tug, and hands the gun over to Damian. "Like we did in the Bunker--"

"Release at apex, reset, fire again. I am aware." He is trained in all the things his father was trained in, during his time before he became the Bat, but he was not trained in this. This was something he learned in Gotham, on buildings such as this one, and Damian was not born to this city, to the home of Batman -- but he has been named Robin, and he has seen how all the rest of them fly. He sets his feet, braces for the leap -- below him, the city rumbles, never sleeping -- the line is almost invisible in the dark.

Grayson shifts, stepping closer, cape snapping in the wind.

"Going to tell me not to look down?" Damian gives his own tug on the line, which refuses to budge, and looks up, and out, and down, at the impossible plummet under his feet.

"Robin," Grayson says, tired and grieving and still somehow full of that infinite, impossible gentleness, that disgustingly soft core of him that Damian has wanted to plunge a knife into since the day they met, and "I am not afraid," Damian snaps, and leaps.

It's -- terrifying, paralyzing, the rush and plummet, the wind catching in his ears and howling, the thin rubber grip of the grapple gun in his palms all too slick for when his weight catches against the line and pulls him back upward, and yet it's also-- amazing, and he whoops sudden and startled and delighted when the arc runs out and he is flying, hanging weightless at the top of the world with all the lights of the city and the sea around him, black and gold and brilliant.

And then gravity reasserts her grip and hauls him back down to the Earth, backwards. He clings instinctively tighter to the gun, cape twisting, flapping, tangling with his legs as he falls blindly back towards the uncaring streets -- and an arm hooks around his waist and hauls him back up again with the benefit of greater mass and greater momentum, and with a jolt he finally hits the release and lets Grayson sweep him up onto the roof of the next building, landing without a breath of a sound.

Damian shoves his way free and Grayson lets him go, lets him shove the grappling gun back in the holster on his belt and stride off to the middle of the roof, glaring down at the smoke-stained concrete. He has practiced this a hundred times over in the Bunker, the changeover, the weightlessness -- he has done it perfectly on the practice course, again and again, until Grayson finally agreed to take him out into the city without the Batmobile, and he froze--

"You're not the only one, you know," Grayson says, and Damian pauses. He doesn't look back, but he pauses, and Grayson sighs. "Tim did the same thing all the time when he was learning. It takes practice."

"I have had practice."

"Not on the streets."

"What difference should that make?"

Damian can feel Grayson's Look, boring in between his shoulder blades, and he clicks his tongue and turns back to the edge of the roof. This building isn't quite so tall, and flatter on top. Any leap will be reliant more on the winch feature of the grappling guns to haul him up to the next roof in the chain.

"Damian," Grayson says, stepping up next to him.

"Names."

"Fine, then, Robin," and he actually manages to hit amused. "You want to know a secret?"

"Hm."

Grayson leans in, conspiratorial, and Damian refrains from tilting himself away. Grayson's secrets are... varied, in terms of how secret they must be kept, and frequently inane, but occasionally... occasionally they are his father's secrets, and Damian-- holds tight to those.

They are his birthright, after all.

"Bruce didn't know how to do this either," Grayson whispers, close and quiet in his ear.

"I am aware of that." There was, after all, a time when his father was not Batman, Damian knows, and his lack of training then does not excuse Damian's current inability--

"No, I mean even as Batman," and Damian whips his head up to look at him, but Grayson is looking out over the shining lights of the city, unreadable behind the cowl. "

In the early days, he didn't-- leap like this."

"Explain."

"He didn't have the training. Who would be crazy enough to teach him how to-- throw himself off skyscrapers?"

"Surely there would have been someone--"

"Before all of this? Before the Justice League? Before Superman? Bruce--

"Names."

"--your father knew a lot of things, but he didn't know this." Grayson shrugs, shoulders drooping as though the cape is dragging them down. "Back then -- well, actually, back then we mostly used the Batmobile, but when we did do rooftop patrols it was a different technique. Lower buildings, narrower streets, different line attachments, no midair switches and no big drops like that. I spent a lot of time using a grapple like an elevator as a kid," and he-- laughs, soft and quiet and wistful. "I learned a lot from him, but I didn't learn how to fly."

"But the others--" He has seen the recordings of his-- predecessors, of Drake's careless confidence in the air, Todd's reckless swoops -- even Brown is better at this than Damian, and that cannot stand. His mother told him that Batman would close the gaps in his education (what small ones there were), that he would be the greatest of his students, and yet he cannot do this, and his father is not here to teach him -- and yet his father did not teach Grayson, either--

"They learned from me," Grayson says. "Bruce did too, sort of -- it wasn't exactly like trapeze, I had to figure out a lot of it, heh, on the fly, and I worked out the technique with him -- but the basics? That's all me. Robin flew before Batman ever did."

"...tt," Damian says, because he has no idea what else to do, but he looks out over Gotham's neon-and-gold and wonders, briefly, what it must have been like, all those years ago, to take that first leap. To look up to the sky and see Batman and Robin, aloft.

"Trust me, Robin, you'll pick it up," Grayson says, resettling the cape on his shoulders, and Damian looks up at him again. He's smiling, now, and the cowl still doesn't suit him but it's less about the shape of his face or the tilt of his chin and more that Richard Grayson, perhaps, should not be wearing the cowl at all. "You've already got the hardest step down."

"Which is?"

"Don't be afraid to fall," Grayson says, and gestures out at the city in front of them, alive with light. "All you've gotta do is keep moving forward. I'll be right behind you," and English isn't Damian's first language but Mother found him only the best of the best to be his tutors, and he hears the second meaning underneath the words. I'll be there to catch you.

"Tt," says Damian, and leaps.

#dc #batman #batfam #nightwing #dick grayson #damian wayne #storm's writing #storm's fic #storytelling #batman fic

93 notes · View notes

plutonium-sky · 2 days

Text

AIGHT HERE WE GO.

So! About the revelation I mentioned with WL and Eden statues- I’m going to give some context first. Me and @halcyon-xxy-art were discussing some Sky DND stuff, and then had an interesting idea- what if there was light corruption, alongside dark corruption?

We immediately establish dark corruption as the crystalized bodies, with the soul (light) trapped inside. The thing is, we wanted to make it so that there wasn’t any weakening of their light- it’s just that there is more darkness. After that got put out, we started thinking about what light corruption would look like, and Aria basically perfectly described a Winged Light. That’s when I had my revelation. What if Winged Lights are sky kids who got light overflow?

I’ll elaborate on that in a bit when I establish another fact we put out right after. Skykid DO have darkness inside them. It’s just hidden in a way no one would expect- it’s right in front of us. A skykid’s darkness would be their physical Body. And, if we go by that logic, their light would be everything else that the body holds- their light and Soul.

And then we added more to the corruption parts. Darkness corruption would work that the soul is trapped inside the body- and cannot return to Megabird (it would slowly weaken inside, losing its power bit by bit as the overbearing darkness drains it.) Light corruption was easy to figure out from there as well. The soul doesn’t have a body to guide it back to the cycle (it had burnt it away, and now the soul is horribly exposed, frozen in time, until a new, temporary vessel guides it back to freedom.)

The skykid’s body needs to walk alongside a delicate balance of light and dark, lest things go to SHIT for them. Too much light will result in being corrupted and overloaded by it, and the body will burn and flake away and the soul be frozen in time and space without the body to guide it back to the cycle. Too much darkness will slow them down, overtake them, eventually turning the skykid into an immovable statue, the soul covered on all sides, and it’s now trapped in a cage of its own making.

Also, absorbing WL (the lost souls of someone else) benefits us instead of harming us because all the overloaded light is still being taken by the other’s soul, not yours. Of course, a little still leaks through- and that’s why it makes flying easier. It’s a sort of…. symbiotic relationship, where the sky kid gives the soul a temporary vessel for it to rest in, while the soul helps the vessel, benefitting it as safely as it can. It takes more WL the longer you have to fly for safety concerns- if they keep on sharing the same amount of energy, the light corruption will happen once more, to a new victim, and now there will be two souls trapped beside each other.

Also, the body and soul theory is further supported by sky kids extinguishing. NORMALLY, we don’t grow crystals. By normally I mean stuff like rain and non-shard crabs. That would be a “normal” death- we aren’t corrupted, the soul and body are still in balance. There’s the pity WL too- you can still be saved. For lore reasons, I’m going to partially ignore the fact that you would still get a pity WL if you lost all of yours to a krill, shard, or shard crabs, because let’s be honest- it’s just ingame things. And, if my memory serves my right (I can’t play sky at the moment to check properly), you would grow crystals for all of those deaths- corrupted by darkness.

There’s then Eden. We run around, giving WL to the lost to darkness bodies of sky kids- or perhaps spirits. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. But, what matters is that somehow, this works in freeing them. My theory for how is that the light corrupted and overloaded soul helps balance out the dark corrupted body, sharing its light with the trapped soul inside. By the point we find the eden bodies, though, the souls are so weakened that they’re barely there- my explanation as to why we don’t see double the winged lights in orbit. They need time to recover.

The last nail in the coffin for this theory, to me, is the cutscene in eden that happens when we finally lose all of our winged light and become a statue ourselves. Where we fall in darkness, as a dark figure, then land. The light and dark of our being in a limbo meet. The light (soul) is sitting there, unmoving, trapped. Meanwhile, us, as the darkness (body) moves, going back to the light, to guide them back. This supports my “the light and soul cannot be guided without the darkness of their body” talk- because it IS the body guiding the soul here. It frees us.

TLDR? Skykids aren’t only light- they are also darkness. The light is their soul and the dark is their body. Without a body, lost because of various reasons (the one I gave is being overloaded/corrupted by light), the soul is trapped and we see this ingame as Winged Light. This creates a delicate balance where there can’t be too much light or too much dark in the soul and body. When you are corrupted by darkness, the soul gets trapped but it is still there. A normal death for a sky kid is when no crystals grow on their body. Eden statues are helped with WL because the overloaded darkness and the overloaded light balance each other out.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, hope it lived up to your expectations.

#pluto talks #sky cotl #sky cotl lore #sky lore #my sky lore #pluto rambles #sky: children of the light #sky:cotl #sky children of the light #winged light #THIS IS NEARLY 1000 WORDS GUYS. JUST LIKE. 40 WORDS AWAY #if anyone has any corrections or other additions or thoughts PLEASE ADD #all of this was made from 12 am- 2 am

69 notes · View notes

fraugwinska · 2 days

Text

Giveaway 2nd Prize Winner Piece

Hello my loves! Our darling @lil-glum, who won myy 2nd prize in the 1k Follower giveaway, has graciously allowed me to share the finished piece with you all! It was a delight to work with her - and her ideas were so good that writing this felt less like work and all the more like a treat! <3 So much so that I, in fact, went a bit overboard with the word count! ;> As usual: Minors DNI or I'll curse you to always have moist socks!

Paint the Town Red

For weeks now, Alastor had stalked out that little human like a vulture, circling high above the oblivious prey and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Revisiting the living world should've been a glorious occasion, since summonings were becoming so rare nowadays, but that moron who dared to call on him hadn't been worth his while - but she was.

Luck and curse had it that he didn't have to return to hell right after the laughably one-sided deal was striked, leaving him time enough to put a little glamor on to stroll around town in his earthly disguise, freshly brewed coffee in hand, and see what humanity had been up to since his demise. The world had become frivolous, no class at all, and Alastor had felt at ease knowing that he had lived at the peak of culture and manners, never to be bettered.

And then she ran into him. Deeply immersed in a book - not those audacious electronic devices people put their nose in every waking hour - she'd rounded the corner while Alastor gawked around, lost to the world captured on the yellowed pages. A head full of red, silky locks had bumped into his chest and the book as well as his coffee dropped, the former to be saved by his quick reflexes. A simple flick of his wrist, and the book was back in her hand, while his cup of java laid spilled in a muddy puddle between their feet.

"Oh! Oh no - I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!" she'd said, pushing her glasses back her nose as she smiled up to him apologetically, and when Alastor met her eyes, something shifted. And just like that, the hunt was on.

"No harm done, darling. The coffee was poorly done anyway."

Since time was running out, he turned up his charm to at least get the girl's name and maybe another meeting out of the encounter, already planning on ways to return. Thankfully, she'd given it all too gladly, and promised to invite him for coffee as an apology for the spilled one. He'd taken the sound of her name into his hands like the greatest treasure, repeating it over and over in his mind as he was being dragged back to the afterlife tasting each vowel and consonant. Hunting down an indebted incubus and acquiring its asmodean crystal had been as easy as working out how to use it. And oh - did he use it.

His absence from his duties in the hotel became more and more obvious, but Alastor couldn't stop himself. It wasn't even the thrill of the chase that kept him going. Every time he saw her, it was as if her mere presence called out to an unknown part of him, as if her voice was a siren's call, as if her scent was a drug created just for him. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about her: The delightful way she laughed at his quips. The elegant way she spoke about her interests. The way she brushed her fiery hair back over her shoulder when she was nervous…

Alastor wanted it all, and he wanted her.

"Alastor, are you listening at all?" she smiled at him, pulling him out of his raging thoughts.

"My apologies, dear, I was merely...distracted. Please do repeat yourself." he cleared his throat and gave her a wide grin. The abandoned park they walked in was tinted in oranges, greens and browns, little specks of autumn's palette so becoming to her complexion.

"I was saying that I don't really feel like going back home yet. How about we take a detour - explore a little?" she proposed, pointing down to a small trail that led away from the main road, lined with trees and shrubbery, "There's supposed to be a pond around there, and I think it would be nice to enjoy your company a little longer."

Alastors ears perked up and his smile widened, threatening to mirror the one he always wore down in hell. She wanted to be alone with him, far away from prying eyes - that wonderful, naive thing.

"That sounds delightful, my dearest - lead the way!"

His mind was running wild with possibilities as he followed her down the path, watching her red locks bounce as she hopped down the sloping ground. How much she trusted him was as endearing as it was thrilling, and the urge to reach out and take her by the arm to pull her into his own grew with every step he took, the demon in him aching for a taste of her. He wasn't one to rush good things, and he wanted to enjoy this, make it last as long as he could, savor every moment of the inevitable fall.

She was chattering away happily, unaware of the obsessive way he watched her. Her hips swayed hypnotically, the hem of her wool skirt grazing her thighs ever so slightly, and Alastor wondered if the flush of her cheeks from the cool autumn air would be found elsewhere on her delectable body, too. He knew he had to control himself, but with his desire burning hot like the flames of his true home, Alastor struggled.

Finally, they reached the small pond and she turned around to him, beaming with accomplishment. The sight of it, of her prideful smile and trusting eyes so enthrallingly focused on him was too much, and whatever she was about to say was swallowed by his lips crashing into hers. His gloved hands held her face firmly as he pushed her against a tree, the bark scratching into the back of her coat. He had wanted this for so long, the feeling of her soft lips moving against his, her hands clawing at his shoulders, indecisive on whether to pull him closer or push him away. She gasped into the kiss and Alastor took the chance to push his tongue inside, swallowing her moan as apparently made up her mind, tugging at his coat as he finally devoured her.

It was entirely, decidedly too much: The warmth of her, the taste, the touches, the sounds, he couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get close enough. With ferocity, he got rid of every offending layer of obstructive clothing, reveling in the way she breathed his name, pleading to the deity that couldn't care for mercy and to him to ruin her. And he gladly granted her wish, benevolent as he was, his lips trailing down her neck, teeth nipping at her collarbone, tongue laving over her exposed breasts as his hands stroked up her legs, fingers disappearing under her skirt to brush against her core.

"Please, Alastor - oh!" she whimpered when he pushed a finger inside her wet cunt, the tight heat making him growl in approval. He wanted her to beg, he wanted her to cry, wanted her to break down before him and ask him for salvation. His glamor flickered, struggling to hold against the loss of control.

"Look at you, my dear, so eager, so wanting," he crooned as he pushed another finger inside her, watching her back arch from the tree, her body seeking out his hands like a magnetic pull. Brown hair slowly turned red, antlers sprouting from its crown, his modest gray coat faded into his signature crimson pinstriped frock, and she gasped into his hungry mouth as he let the grip on his magic go and revealed himself completely as the demonic overlord that he was. Alastor, the Radio Demon, laughed, licking along her jaw as he slowly increased the pace of his claws, earning another sweet sound of shocked pleasure from his little, confused human.

“Don’t let my true form deceive you, my darling - No matter what happens… I’ll make sure you see heaven.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #fraugwinskagiveaway #slutsnack #quickfic #Fanfic Reader appreciation #You guys are THE BEST!

74 notes · View notes

thecheshirerat · 2 days

Text

On TAZ-

Wow that sounds like I’m about to summarize some sort of discourse but I promise I’m not. I guess I’ll say that I really like this show and I will keep listening even if my worst fears come to pass, so keep that in mind!

For reference, I started listening near the end of Amnesty.

I’ve noticed, with the past few arcs- really since Ethersea- the narratives have just… not been fulfilling their promises, so to speak. They’ve been placing a lot of guns that don’t go off. What I mean by that is, the characters are great. Excellent, really. Lady Godwin? HELL YES. Emerich Dreadway? Fuck yeah! And so on! And the settings and premises have been epic- the goofiness and also horrifying nature of Engrave, the mad and thrilling world of Steeplechase- these things are COOL AS FUCK.

and then the actual narratives keep flopping?

And honestly, I notice it most in the endings, because you can really tell when an ending doesn’t land. You feel the sense of disappointment. But with vs. Dracula, for example, I could kinda see leading up to it that the ending couldn’t really BE anything special, because they lowkey didn’t set themselves up for it.

They spent the campaign fucking around in Engrave, finding clues and solving problems and not really experiencing any particularly meaningful character arcs or growth or, idk, forming relationships? So there wasn’t much to pay off, I’m not gonna lie!

Of course it doesn’t feel quite as dissatisfying when you’re in the thick of it, because they’re funny and the stuff is cool and- oh hey! Lady Godwin’s been turned into a werehorse against her will?? that’s got some real potential for a LOT of allegories and exploration of some fun character development! And then it’s kinda played as a joke. And then they do that again and again.

And they actually said that that was a move they made intentionally, in the TTAZZ. I’m not quoting them perfectly here, this is from memory, but I do remember them mentioning that they wanted lighthearted comedy without the burden of real life story stuff. And I get that, honestly, but… it’s not the choice I would’ve made. I do think you can keep a lighthearted tone while also, idk, forming relationships and wholesomely engaging with some amount of emotion. And sometimes going way too deep is funny as a tone shift!

But I digress. One thing that’s also popped out to me is the almost complete lack of any kind of romantic storyline or even references. This becomes obvious if you’re in a fandom because everyone is always dying to ship SOMEONE, and you can tell when people are really getting desperate. I don’t blame them for not wanting to roleplay romance with their family, and I do think stories lacking romance are COOL and SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED!

However if you can’t find ANYBODY to ship together… that may mean you just don’t have character bonds. The growing popularity of the PC polycule is interesting to me; I wonder if it’s partially because

a) none of the pcs have significant relationships outside of their party and

b) even within the party, there doesn’t seem to be much chemistry between any given pair of characters…? I hope I’m making my point well here- the PCs all seem equally close and have more or less the same relationship to all of their compatriots with little distinction, meaning, essentially, no shipping fodder that doesn’t involve just all of ‘em.

Either way, it makes me wonder if I can blame the “Graduation has too many NPCs!” critique. They really stopped giving the parties tag-along main NPCs after graduation, with the exception of maybe.. Urchin? Kodira? Shlabethany? Poppy? and even they get relatively little “screen” time. Steeplechase has great NPCs, I love them to death, but none of the PCs seem to ever have one on one conversations with NPCs or each other that do not explicitly focus on the plot. And I think that’s part of why the characters feel so underdeveloped despite having spent a lot of time with them- because in this character-driven genre, we get very little insight into their feelings or motivations or even their rudimentary backstories.

I started watching Fantasy High recently and it made me realize a couple things about TAZ.

1) Recently, TAZ has sooo few core NPCs, and it’s weird that the characters aren’t doing more one-on-one purely character based scenes. And that makes it really tough to develop them.

2) TAZ is- and I should have realized this before- one of many good dnd podcasts. They’re probably looking for a niche they can master.

And it sounds like they’re trying to get back to that old “Here there be Gerblins!” energy. They’ve referenced it so many times in recent TTAZZes- they wanted to be job-focused, allowing story stuff to happen organically, so they tried a more open world vibe with Ethersea. They wanted to be less afraid to kill stuff, so they tried playing criminals (and were still afraid to kill stuff). They wanted to be silly and light on character, as they tackled with taz vs dracula. Now they’re trying to bring in the silly cartoon vibe with Abnimals. I think they’re trying to make that family-friendly, funny and goofy show their niche. Something other actual plays can’t be better at them at.

And honestly it kinda makes me sad, that they keep trying to go back to Balance while ignoring everything they learned during it. Because I loved Dust. Because I loved Amnesty. Because I loved Ethersea. I loved these past arcs! But they keep doing their brilliant characters dirty for some reason!!! And i don’t know why!!!!

You know that meme about people who ask questions in movies and then the person responds “Have you ever been to a movie before? You watch them and the information is revealed.” There have been so many times in TAZ recently where information has Not been revealed and if they keep doing it the audience will stop bothering to suspend their disbelief, because the trust just isn’t there.

What is Montrose’s deal? What on earth was Carmine Denton’s whole thing? Tell me more about Zoox’s feelings, about Devo’s past, about Amber’s future. Show me how Lady Godwin feels about the body horror that is her life- like, seriously! WHY DID WE HAVE TO COMPLETELY DISMISS THE OPPORTUNITY TO DISCUSS GENERATIONAL TRAUMA IN MUTT’S LIFE FOR A JOKE??

Do you remember in Steeplechase where the boys were getting medical attention or something- i don’t remember, but they were all in one room and only talking about The Plot. And Poppy literally banged on the door (speaking for both Justin and me, tbh) and was like “does anyone want to share any feeeeelings??” and they were like NOPE! and they moved on!!

like. cmon. you can’t just put a character like montrose out there and then leave them severely underdeveloped to the point that what would be interesting in proper context, with audience insight, becomes confusing and chaotic.

I just wish they would take their stories as seriously as we do.

It feels to me like they don’t believe in themselves, and it makes me sad. Maybe they didn’t get the response they wanted from Ethersea and so they’ve been trying to pivot, hoping to recapture whatever it was that earned them a loyal audience.

Again, I love them. They’re so funny and I’ll keep listening until the day they stop making this show, and when it happens I’ll cry.

But i KNOW they have more in them. Remember the “we’ll grow gills” monologue from Justin in the Prologues? Remember Travis’s SOLID acting with Devo? Or his awesome choice to give Lyndon/Beef a clearly delineated work/irl identity? His excellent narration and prose? Remember when Montrose described being lonely?! Remember all those moments where Shit Got Real and you cared??? The nanofather said some dope shit! dracula and victor and sweater dracula had such a wild dynamic! Clint’s acting in Dust 2- I can’t remember the characters name right now- was ASTOUNDING, I genuinely didn’t know he had that in him and it blew me away!

I’m not referencing Balance on purpose, both because the fandom is way to hung up on it and because I want to prove that you don’t even have to look at Balance, or even Post-Balance arcs, to see this kind of good cool stuff!

GAAAAAAAGHHHH!!! I want them to have fun. But also. We’re starving out here.

#that’s all for now #i need to go to bed..#taz #the adventure zone #taz steeplechase #taz vs dracula #taz ethersea #cheshi squeaks

73 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 15 hours

Text

A Love Connection Part 1

In a very special engagement (as in a don't normally post 5 days a week), I introduce "A Love Connection"!

If the premise looks familiar the original idea is from here, where a couple of people in the notes or tags said they'd love to try it. And after a year, I figured I'd try my own hand at the idea.

This will update on Tuesdays at 10am and 10pm EST. With hopefully eight chapters.

Summary: Steve has tried everything under the sun to find someone to truly connect with, so he gives up after a particularly horrible date. Then Chrissy introduces him to her favorite game show "Love Connection". When Chrissy and Robin apply for him, they don't think they'll except him, but he does. His suitors are Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, and Eddie Munson. Will Steve crash and burn again or will his connection be there waiting for him?

Look, to say Steve’s love life was a disaster would be unfair. That would be underselling it. It was a fucking catastrophe. He had gone to bars, joined hobby groups, used all the apps, even Grindr; though that was mostly for hookups, which sucked. But that was the nature of the beast if he was honest.

And the beast had completely devoured him. All his dates were either only interested the casual, cheated on him, or wanted one-night stands. Which Steve absolutely did not want. He wanted connection. Intimacy.

“I absolutely give up,” he whined to Robin, after the last date tried to slip out in the middle of the night, knocked over their lamp into their goldfish bowl, killing the goldfish, then he tried to hide the evidence by dumping it down the garbage disposal and turning it on! Lied about it, then stole their last beer as “compensation for his trauma’ and told Steve to never call him again.

“Look, Ryan wasn’t the best guy,” Robin replied with a grimace. “He liked Oasis and Tool unironically. Always a red flag.”

Steve snorted. Robin was a music snob most days, but she wasn’t wrong about that. Ryan and he had been dancing around and with each other for weeks before they finally got so hot and heavy that they went back to Steve’s for sex.

“It’s not fair,” he huffed. “You went to that bar and you a hottie girlfriend and I went to that bar and fucked a fish killer! I loved Garfield! He lived for five years before that bastard mercilessly murdered him. That’s long than my last ten relationships combined!”

Robin winced. “Ooh... I’m going to have to call Chrissy and let her know we can’t go back to that gay bar again.”

“Oh he’s so dead now!” Steve ranted. “Not only is he fish killer, he has driven us from our favorite bar!”

“Let me order us some take out,” Robin said standing up, “then I’ll call Chrissy over and we’ll all cry over Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root falling in love.”

Steve sniffed away a couple of tears and nodded. “Then can we have a funeral for Garfield?”

Robin tilted her head and smiled sadly. “Of course we can. It’s a Sunday so none of us have work. We can watch as many weepy romance movies as you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve croaked. She gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. He watched her wander into the kitchen to see what leftovers they had in the fridge so they could order from somewhere else. He loved her so much.

Sometime in the afternoon when they were more than a little tipsy, Chrissy commandeered the remote and turned on her favorite game show.

“Love Connection”

“Noooo...” Steve whined, burying his head into a throw pillow. It was Garfield shaped. It was what inspired the naming of the valiant fish. “This is the last thing I want to see. It’s so fake. No one gets together on these things. It’s so cheesy.”

“Exactly!” Chrissy crowed. “That’s why it’s perfect, we get to make fun of them!”

Steve thought that the only good part of the show was the second half. The first half was split into three different rounds. The first round was each suitor answer the one question, for a total of fifteen and then the catch would rank them, best got three points, second two, and third only one.

Then in the second round there were a set of rapid fire either or questions that the catch would yell out and the suitors would write down their answers. If their answer matched the catch’s they would get a tally. Whoever had the most tallies would win five points. Then three points to second place and one to the last place.

Then in the final round, each suitor would be asked separate questions and the catch would rate their answer one through three and that’s how many points they would get. Then at the end of the round all the points would be tallied up and the two highest would move on to the next round.

To the part that Steve actually liked. The first question always asked was “what would you do for a first date?” And the suitors got to take the catch out for the date and then afterward for drinks, the two dates would ask the catch some of the questions he asked them. Then the catch would pick the one they connected to the best.

It was all the stupid questions that bothered Steve. That was the fun part of dating, having these conversations and learning about them as you go. But then maybe that’s what Steve’s problem was, is that the people he dated didn’t care about these types of conversations.

“Why would you say you hate sports,” Steve huffed, waving his hand at the screen, “when the guy is a major soccer fan? Like did she think that she was going to put a stop to him enjoying it after starting dating?”

“Ooh yeah,” Chrissy agreed. “Just pick a different catch.”

Robin turned to her and tilted her head. “Do they get to chose their catch? I thought it was all random.”

Chrissy paused the show and pulled out her phone and the Wikipedia article. “Okay, it says here that people can apply to be suitors,” she waved at the row of women in the three booths. “Or catches.” She indicated the guy with her hand. “If they’re chosen to be a suitor then they are given a list of catches, headshot included. Then they rank vote them, so if four people pick Henry, then one will be on their second rank vote. And that part is randomized. According to them, anyway.”

Steve snorted. He highly doubted anything was randomized or voted on. They went for the biggest drama and everyone knew it.

“How long has this show been going on?” he huffed. “Like please tell it’s new and shiny and that’s why people like it.”

Robin snorted and shook her head. “Sorry, babe. But this is season twelve.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy said. “We need to show him the season six finale. That was hella juicy!”

So despite Steve’s protests, Chrissy pulled it up on her streaming services even though they hadn’t even finished the episode they were on.

When the credits rolled, Steve stared at the screen in utter shock. “What the honest fuck was that?”

Two of the three guys got into an all out brawl when the one guy had scored the lowest and felt that the second place suitor cheated. Not first place, second. Both guys were arrested and hauled off the set.

“It came out later Sven was right,” Robin said. “Elliot cheated. His cousin was an ex of the catch so he went in knowing a lot about Stella. The things he got wrong were things that had changed since she was dating his cousin.”

Chrissy nodded. “That’s why the have partitions up between the suitors now and why they have vigorous screening now. The show was almost canceled.”

“So why wasn’t it?” Steve asked honestly. “That was a shit show, if I was Stella I would have sued them into oblivion.”

Robin squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “She did, but they settled out of court.”

“Basically,” Chrissy said, pouring them more wine and handing the first glass to Steve, “she wanted them to completely overhaul the system. She didn’t want it off the air, she wanted it safer for future participants.”

“The more the fool them,” Steve huffed. He took a long sip of his wine. “All right, fine. Let’s start at the beginning.”

Robin and Chrissy cheered and they all huddled up together on the sofa to watch this absolute train wreck of a show.

They were about half way through the third season and twice as drunk when Steve slurred, “Why are there no gay peemles in this? It’s a trav–trad–tramajesty.”

“Travesty!” Robin slurred back, her language skills always being the last to go when she’s three sheets to the wind. “And you are absolutely right! This is homophobic!”

Chrissy nodded solemnly and pulled out her phone. “I’mma show them...” she muttered with her tongue sticking out. “At loveconnectionUSA Need more gays, hashtag loveconnection hashtag need more gays.”

It wasn’t long after that that the three of them passed out on the sofa, empty bottles all around them and a message on the screen asking if they’re still watching.

There was a loud beeping noise and it absolutely was hurting his head. He reached over to where his phone was usually plugged in on his nightstand, but his hand went straight through it. He waved his arm all over the place but still his nightstand eluded him.

He peaked open one eye but his vision was obscured by a mass of blonde hair. He tried to push it out of the way but it kept falling back into his face. Finally he pushed Robin off him and onto the floor with a thud.

“Hey!” she yelped.

Steve peered over the edge of the sofa with a look of confusion. “Why are you on the floor?” he muttered over the still beeping of his alarm.

“Stop!” he mumbled and somehow, blissfully it did.

“I’m on the floor because you pushed me there,” Robin huffed, getting to her feet. She did a sniff test and grimaced when she completely failed. “God... how much did we drink yesterday?”

Chrissy struggled to sit up and blinked at her girlfriend groggily. “Not enough if I feel like this.”

Steve rolled over and looked at them both in confusion, then the events of Saturday and all day Sunday came flooding back in.

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, sitting up himself and rubbing his face. One eye was blurry from where his contact had shifted in the night. He wasn’t even sure why he had them on. Probably from sheer force of habit.

He got up and stumbled toward the bathroom where he emptied his stomach of all its boozy contents. He really didn’t remember them eating after breakfast, only a steady stream of harder and harder liquor.

While his was puking his guts out, Chrissy and Robin stole the shower. Thankfully only taking the time they needed to get the gross feeling of being hungover off their skin.

Then Steve closed his eyes as they exited the shower and snuck into Robin’s room to get ready for work. They all worked at Hawkins Middle School, where Steve was a history teacher who coached swimming and basketball. Chrissy was a health teacher and advisor for cheerleading. And Robin was the language teacher. The principal snatched her up because she could teach French, Spanish, and Italian, with her only needing to hire a German teacher.

Steve got his shower and then opted for glasses instead of his contacts, not trusting his shaky hands not poke out his eye or some shit.

They all were mostly human once they got coffee, painkillers, and cereal in them, the three of them, no doubt looking like escaped extras from a zombie flick. They moved as one, gathering up their stuff and shuffling out to Steve’s car. Chrissy sat in the back, Robin riding shotgun.

Chrissy opened her phone to check to see if she had any messages. “Holy shit!”

Part 2

Look I'd be sorry about the cliffhanger, but you're only waiting 12 hours for it, soooo...

Have fun!

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #game show au #tw: pet death #buckingham #not billy hargrove friendly #tommy hagan #everyone is gay

82 notes · View notes

temilyrights · 11 hours

Note

"all this to prove a point?" for the writing prompt

emily prentiss x reader

no warnings. no use of y/n or pronouns for reader.

sentence fic prompt

You rub your hands together, trying your best to generate some heat in your body. Emily’s car, while lovely, did not provide the warmth of an suv on a usual stakeout and you were seriously regretting your inability to tell this woman no.

“All this to prove a point?” You mumble, the humour fading from your tone the longer you sit in the cold car, the September air biting away at your fingers and toes.

Emily sits with her camera pointed at Morgan’s apartment, a determined glint in her eye. “Better personal life than me, my ass. He came straight home and hasn’t left the building since!”

You roll your eyes, wishing desperately you were home, “Yeah but he’s also not wasting his evening stalking his friend.”

Emily lowers the camera and turns to face you, brows drawn together. “He can’t make accusations like that and not expect me to find proof.”

“Well maybe if you focused a little bit more on yourself and a little less on him then you wouldn’t need to prove it and you’d have a private life he couldn’t argue with.”

She scoffs, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Always so clueless.

You shake your head, annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated by the woman in front of you. “I’m right here.”

Emily’s frown only deepens and you blow out a breath, “I invited you out for dinner tonight and instead we’re stalking Morgan and have completely missed our reservations. Every time I try to move us forward you find a way to shut it down.”

“Reservations? I thought you wanted to get take-out and head back to one of ours, like usual.” She says with genuine confusion.

“No, I booked that nice Indian place you like.”

“Oh,” She responds, dropping the camera firmly in her lap.

“Look,” you sigh, “I just need to know, okay? Because maybe I’m just failing to get the hint and you’re really not interested but I thought we were going somewhere. I like you Emily.”

“You like me? Tonight was supposed to be a date and instead I blew you off and made us sit and stake out Morgan.” She says slowly, words strangled.

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell.” She blows out a breath. The car is silent for a moment as she comes to terms with the news and then her gaze focuses back on you. “I’m so sorry. I will make this up to you. I’m taking you for the best date night starting right now.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait so that’s a-?”

She smiles, wide and happy, “Yes, idiot, I like you too. God, why else would I ask you to sit here with me?”

You can’t help but smile too. Head in the clouds as Emily puts the camera away and the keys back in the ignition.

“Ready to go?” She asks, a playful smirk on her lips that your eyes linger on.

“There’s just one thing first.” Because you can’t wait a moment longer. You’ve waited years.

You lean over the centre console, hand cupping her cheek and pulling her towards you to meet you in the middle. Emily’s eyes darken instantly, her gaze dropping to your lips before they fall close and her lips softly meet yours.

Your body hums, alive as your lips move tenderly against hers. A gentle whine escapes your lips and your body heats up as you regretfully pull away.

“Mmmhmm,” Emily hums, lips well kissed and eyes dark. “We can definitely do that again.”

“Food?” You ask, voice strangled. Avoiding the knowing look in her eyes, suddenly shy.

“Oh, babes, I’ve got the perfect place.”

taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #criminal minds drabble #emily prentiss drabble #kt writes #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #requested #five sentence fics #my gif #quickly written not really edited so please excuse any mistakes!#first post in ages wowoow

63 notes · View notes

prinzrupprecht · 2 days

Text

When someone else gives you gifts

Featuring: Susano’o, Hades, Buddha, Poseidon ( part 2 )

I forgot Hades and swapped Anubis out. I had to take Loki out since this was gonna be too long. Part 3 will have Loki and Anubis in it.

TW: same as part 1. Some will be Yandere or possessive

Susano’o

You were another deity of the Shinto pantheon during ancient Japan. You found the sword god amusing and fascinating with the art of the sword to a point you wanted to get to know him more.

He was kind, silly, and serious when he had to be if demons were threatening humans, he would be there to stop them. He loved humans and that is what made you admire him more. He liked you as well and wanted your company during his travels as governor of the lands.

Being his, came with perks and cons. You were allowed to travel with him and be his support. The cons normally are the women who fawned over him when he killed monsters. You were jealous and insecure if he would leave you for a human but that wasn’t possible… was it? Could he sense your moods whenever they approach him?

You could tell how naive he was when they pretended to be interested in his sword. You quickly scurried off to find some fresh air but got lost in the village until you bumped into someone. “So— Sorry!” You bowed your head without seeing who you rammed into. It was a young man who waved his hand across their face. You shouldn’t be talking to him but guilt washes over you.

“Don’t be! You look incredibly cold wearing this. Here, here come inside.” He ushered you into his home which you tried to say you were fine and that you weren’t cold. It was a lie. You were cold and goosebumps were forming on your skin.

“It doesn’t appear that you’re fine.” He grabbed one of his extra long-sleeved jackets which were called a haori. He tried to give you it so you wouldn’t freeze. You tried to reject such things and remembered Susano’o telling you that humans care for one another. So it was common for them to help others.

After some time reluctantly rejecting the haori, you took it and thanked the man before putting it over your shoulders. Susano’o must be worried about you since you’ve been gone for some time. After rushing off with the plain haori over your shoulders.

You found him near a pond cleaning his sword. “Oh you’re back, I was going to find you— that is new.” He turned his head and stopped mid-sentence to admire the haori that you were wearing. You hugged your arms and this made Susano’o frown. You were cold?

“Sorry, someone gave it to me and said it’s to keep me warm,” you looked away with a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

He walked over to you and pulled you in his arms. “Oh? You could’ve asked me to heat you up if you were cold.” His arms were already wrapped around your body. He was thankful someone wanted to take care of you but he was there for that. He would take care of your needs. You were embarrassed but he was offering and you couldn’t say no to that.

Hades

Hades is an amazing king and you were his as he was yours. Ever since he saved you from multiple titans wreaking havoc in Helheim, you wanted to stay by his side forever. You constantly looked up to him. Helheim was in a terrible condition before he took over as a ruler and king. You were treated with respect and you showed him respect back.

You were in the library of Hades castle researching about demons that dwell in Helheim. Hades didn’t like you leaving the castle without him or one of the guards with you. Even though you were not weak and were strong yourself, he wanted to take extra precautions in case you ran into something stronger.

“Where is Hades?” A voice broke through the quiet room and an unfamiliar figure stood near the entrance. You looked up to see a young man with black hair who you’d assume was named Beelzebub. Hades told you about him.

Beelzebub was a strange man but you didn’t judge him nor wanted to get close to him. Hades warned you about him even told you his past and to not ever bring it up to him. He was someone to not trust at all.

“If he’s not here then he’s probably with his brothers,” you responded nonchalantly. The truth was he didn’t always tell you if he was leaving the castle for a bit. Beelzebub stood around for a brief moment before pulling something from his pocket.

“You’re researching devils?” He asked but before you could answer him, your eyes cautiously watched whatever he was doing. He was quiet and had ulterior motives. You didn’t respond and hoped he’d leave you alone. Yet what surprised you was the fact he put an ornament next to you. Or was it an amulet? It had a long chain to it and as you were going to ask him what it was, he had already turned to leave the room.

“I’d like to see how you can kill me next time we meet,” a smirk was dancing on his lips and he was already gone. You looked at the amulet and decided it would be best to ask Hades what it was. What a weird guy…

As time passed on as you waited for him to return you kept the amulet in your hand as a fidget toy. The door opened but you didn’t turn to look at who it was. “Waiting for me?” His voice made your head snap to see him dressed in his usual attire. He looked handsome as usual as you ran up to him. You didn’t realize you still had the chained object in your hand. Hades noticed right off the bat and immediately went to grab your hand and toss the amulet across the room.

“Beelzebub was looking for me was he?" Hades still held both of your wrists but he was more mad at himself for leaving you here alone. You slowly nodded but his expression changed to more of a serious one. Beelzebub was a cunning man with his experiments.

Hades would be dammed if something happened to you and if you were a target to Beelzebub’s sick games, he would put an end to that man. There would’ve been a reason why he gave you such a deadly weapon and he didn’t want to say what it was. He was just glad you were safe and now knows to take you with him the next time he has to leave the castle.

Buddha

He’s normally the one to offer you stuff— treats, food, and sweet drinks. You declined his offers every time. The man was always so full of himself which made you not want to get involved with someone like him who has a following. The Buddha was living for himself, obtained enlightenment and ascended to godhood. Buddha thought you were a boring human at first glance but you caught his attention when you constantly rejected things from him. Yet you’d accept gifts and necessities from others— but not him?

Was it a game for him? He felt insulted but his ego tells him to get over it. This wasn’t something he should care for. He lives freely and loves how crowds of people would surround him.

He snapped one day seeing how you casually accepted apples from one of the farmers. Buddha was frowning with displeasure at the sight, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying to get your attention somehow. He denied it in his head that he was spying on you. He has everything he could wish for but seeing how happy you were accepting things from others but not him, displeased him somehow.

When he finally saw you were alone picking flowers in your garden. Your space. You didn’t like others would invade your alone time. “It seems that I came at a perfect time, what are these?” he went to pick up one of the flowers but you stopped him by swatting his hand. He pouted while taking another one of his candies out and popping it in his mouth.

“Perfect time for you to leave, yes?” You tilted your head and saw his expressionless face at how careless you were around him. This is what drew him to you, to begin with. You say what you want to say to him and reject his flirtatious advances and offerings.

“Aw don’t be like that,” he pouted and then gave you a nickname that you loathed. “Why don’t you accept things I give you anyway?” He sat down next to you.

You didn’t know how to answer that. You turned your head stubbornly. “Maybe I just don’t like accepting things so casually—"

“You accepted apples from some farmer earlier eh, so did you offer anything in return?“ he was causing your face to burn up but you pushed yourself away from him even more considering how close he was trying to get between you two. Was he trying to get under your skin?!

“Th— That’s different! You’re just annoying agh!” You clutched your head. Could you stand being around him any longer but this made him laugh uncontrollably. Huh?

“See I like your honesty! Why don’t you get to know me more and see if you change your opinion about me? To start off take these and cool your head a bit.” He handed you his basket full of grapes. You sighed, it seemed impossible to ever be free from him so why not? Maybe you’ll grow onto him just like how he is a thorn in your side.

Poseidon

Poseidon was generally a quiet apathetic guy. On the outside, you could tell he either doesn’t care about your existence or you’re just dirt for him to walk on. However, none of that was true. You were special to him like his brothers are even if he doesn’t show it, his love language was different and more on the possessive side. He was king of the sea and extremely strong.

Whenever he calls himself the perfect being and that gods don’t need help. You on the other hand we’re cautious of him at first but he recognized your strength and viewed you as strong which surprised you. He rarely talks but his compliment took you off guard. “Strong? Not at all, I don’t want help from others. It’s selfish, but I don’t want others to get hurt because of me.” He thought your response was stupid.

His cold exterior made you shudder under his gaze. He raised his left hand and you thought he was going to hit you so you turned your head. His hand softly touched your cheek. “You think I’d harm you?” He rubbed his thumb over your face. It deeply bothered him you still had no trust in him. Even though he believes that gods don’t help each other. He still very loved your comfort during some of the hardest times. You never needed help or asked for it. He viewed you as different and not one of those bottom-feeder gods.

You never disobeyed him and felt more relieved how he treated you with respect. Also, he claimed you as his alone. You've never seen him with other women so you may be right to assume you were his consort— despite not married. Other men get scared off whenever they approach you and he was nearby watching.

Going as far one of them had tried to give you a dazzling pearl necklace in an attempt to sway you. They were unaware how you were already taken even if Poseidon never said the words, it deeply infuriated him. Pearls? From his sea? He could give you better. “Take it off,” he demanded while holding himself back from ripping the necklace off your neck completely. You don’t hesitate to remove it but he took the pearled necklace from your hand and snapped it in two.

“Was that necessary?” You were shocked by his jealousy. Was he afraid you would betray him? Your loyalty was to him only. The gift wasn’t anything special.

“Yes.” He pushed passed you to grab something from his top shelf before walking back to you and standing a few centimetres apart. He grabbed your arm and put something cold around your wrist. You took a look at what he put on you and covered your mouth. A sea-charmed bracelet with clams and other small sea-shaped mammals made of gold and silver.

Poseidon watched your reaction and it was pleasing to see that you liked it. Hades was the one who told him to impress you with what girls normally would like— jewelry. “Thanks, I— I don’t know what to say…” you quietly muttered. Poseidon never was mean to you but whenever he showed his possessive side it would sometimes scare you.

“Nothing. Just accept it.” He was itching to hold you close to him in that moment but what stopped him was his pride. You put your arms around him— which normally anyone would be dead in that moment. He allowed it and slowly his arms wrapped around your body. He deeply cared for you and you knew that. You were his as he was yours.

Note: I have no idea how I feel with part 2. Hades and Buddha parts feels whack and Poseidon and Susano’o feels on point. Which is the weird thing…

61 notes · View notes