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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 2 months ago

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caught in the middle | charles leclerc

🎸 synopsis: After a rainy concert in London, you end up sharing burgers backstage with Charles Leclerc, of all people. tags: rockstar life, talks about fame & pressure (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 2.4k words)

It’s one of those nights. You can feel the rain before you even hear it, the weight of it pressing down from the clouds, and you just know it’s going to pour. And it does. Hard. The London sky opens up as if it’s got something personal against you, and you’re huddled under a canopy behind the venue, watching as water cascades down. Everything’s soaked – the equipment, the crew, you – and the mood is tense, all nerves and curses muttered under breath because, of course, this is how the night’s going to go.

It’s not your first time here. You’ve played this venue before, two or three times over the years, and every time it feels a little different. A little bigger, like the walls have expanded to swallow more people, like the stage gets higher and the lights hotter. And tonight, it’s not just the rain; it’s a mess of last-minute technical problems. Something about the lighting rig not syncing up, and the sound checks running late because of a blown amp, and the stage crew rushing around to patch things together while you pace the green room, wondering if it’s all going to fall apart before it even begins.

Your tour manager’s in your ear, reassuring you that everything’s fine, but you’ve heard that line before, and it does nothing to stop the nervous twist in your gut. You’re too old for this kind of anxiety, you think. 25 isn’t even that old, but then why does it feel like you’re walking a tightrope every time you hit the stage? Like you’re one wrong move away from everything crashing down. You watch the rain from the window, and it reminds you of all the other times you’ve felt this way, every tour and every city bleeding together in your memory.

Something shifts. It’s hard to say when exactly it happens – maybe it’s when the crew finally gives you the thumbs-up, or when the rain lets up just enough for you to see the crowd gathering through the fogged-up glass. Maybe it’s the hum of the bass vibrating through the walls or the way the adrenaline suddenly kicks in, hot and electric. Either way, you hear them out there, the crowd – muffled cheers and a murmur that swells and dips, building anticipation, wrapping itself around your chest and squeezing until you can barely breathe.

You don’t let yourself think about it too much. You go through the motions, pulling on your jacket, checking the setlist one more time even though you’ve memorized it, cracking jokes with the band like it’s any other night, and then it’s time. The stage manager is waving you over, and you take one last deep breath – just one – before you step out into the hallway that leads to the stage. Your footsteps echo, and the noise from the crowd grows louder. You can feel the heat of the lights before you even see them, hear the opening notes of the intro track rumbling through the speakers. You don’t look back. You can’t.

Then the crowd sees you, and the roar that goes up is like nothing else. It’s everything, like you’re not standing on a stage but flying, unstoppable, and the rain outside doesn’t matter, the equipment issues don’t matter. Nothing matters except the music, the energy.

You start singing. You don’t even remember starting, but your fingers are on the strings of your guitar and the music’s pouring out of you, and the band’s right there with you. You can feel the floor vibrating beneath your feet, the beat pounding in your chest. It’s perfect, even in its imperfections – the missed cues, the notes you almost fumble but catch at the last second, the feedback that whines for half a beat before it’s smothered. The adrenaline burns through you until you can’t tell where you end and the music begins.

When you look out at the crowd, you wonder if they know what it costs, if they can see how hard you’re fighting to hold onto this, to keep the dream alive even when it feels like it’s slipping away.

You hit the chorus and they’re all singing with you, the sound so loud it’s almost deafening, and it’s like the world stops. You’re not thinking about the rain or the mistakes or the way your fingers ache from playing the same chords over and over. You’re just feeling it, the connection, the rush, the way it all comes together for just a few minutes.

You stumble off stage, still feeling the echo of the last note ringing in your ears, your chest heaving with each breath. The heat’s oppressive, and your shirt is damp with sweat, sticking to your back in a way that makes you want to peel it off. You’re half-drunk on adrenaline, on the sound of the crowd still buzzing through the walls, and you don’t even realize you’re smiling until someone hands you a water bottle and you chug it down in three desperate gulps, nearly doubling over from the effort.

The band’s all around you, slapping your back, bumping shoulders, shouting half-coherent things like “Killed it tonight!” and “Best show yet!” But you’re only half-listening, already thinking about the part that comes next. The part that’s always a little awkward, a little forced, where you shake the hands of strangers who got lucky or know the right people or just happened to win some contest. You try to give them a moment to remember, even when you’re exhausted, even when all you really want is a quiet corner to catch your breath. You take a second to steady yourself, push your damp hair out of your eyes, and head toward the meet-and-greet area, already pasting on that familiar, practiced smile.

They’re waiting for you when you get there, clustered in small groups, some with wide-eyed grins, some pretending they’re not as excited as they are. You go through the motions – handshakes, hugs, quick photos with flashing phones that make your vision blur. You ask them how they liked the show, where they came from, if they’ve seen you play before. You keep the rhythm going until your attention snags on someone standing a little apart from the crowd, someone you haven’t seen around before.

He’s got the kind of beauty that makes him stand out, even though he’s just standing there, hands in the pockets of a jacket. And you know him. Of course, you do – how could you not? It’s Charles Leclerc, the one and only. But you’re the rock star here, and you know how to play it cool.

You step forward, hand outstretched, because if you think too much about it, you’ll probably lose your nerve. “Hey,” you say, your voice a little rough from the show, from the yelling and the singing and the way the night’s adrenaline still hasn’t quite worn off. “Nice to meet you.”

His handshake is firm, warm, and he’s got this smile that’s just a little shy, like he’s not used to being on this side of the spotlight, which makes you feel weirdly better. Less alone. “Nice to meet you,” he echoes, his accent softer than you expected, “I’m a big fan.”

You almost choke. Me too, you want to say, because you’ve followed his career, but you don’t. You just nod, feeling your own grin stretching wider than it should, because it’s not every day you meet someone who’s famous in their world, too, and suddenly you’re a little self-conscious, wondering if you’re as cool as you think you are.

“Glad you liked the show,” you say, keeping it light, like he’s just another fan, even though he’s not. Not really.

He laughs, easy and low, and you notice the way he shifts his weight, like he’s trying to find the right thing to say but doesn’t want to come off too eager. “It was incredible,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. “I’ve been listening to your music for years. This… this was something else.”

“Thanks,” you say, feeling your cheeks warm, and you hope he can’t see it in the low backstage lighting. “Means a lot, coming from you.” It slips out before you can stop it, and you watch his eyebrows lift, surprise passing over his face like he wasn’t expecting you to know who he was.

The rest of the band finally notices him and they’re quick to be all over him. They’re his fans and unlike you, they’re not afraid to show it. They start asking about the car and which race is the hardest, and you just hang back, watching the way Charles lights up, giving them all the attention they’re craving.

The chaos dies down. The gear’s mostly packed up, the roadies are winding down, and you can finally breathe. The routine kicks in – the same one you always follow after a show because you need the familiarity to settle the adrenaline that’s still coursing through you.

There’s a table in the corner of the greenroom piled high with burgers, fries, and the kind of greasy comfort food that’s become your go-to post-show ritual. Always enough for everyone – staff, guests, even the hangers-on who just happened to have a backstage pass.

It’s your thing, the one you look forward to when the crowd’s roar has faded and the lights have gone down. You grab a burger – double patty, extra cheese, because you’ve earned it – and motion to Charles, who’s still lingering near the door. “Hey,” you say, nodding toward the food. “You hungry? There’s more than enough.”

He hesitates, just for a second, then nods. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

By the time you’ve both got food in your hands and the staff’s scattered around the room in little groups, you find yourselves at the same worn-out couch in the far corner, away from the noise and the half-empty beer bottles littering the floor. He sits beside you, and you try not to think too hard about the way the couch dips slightly under his weight, the way the space between you feels strangely intimate now that you’re not surrounded by people.

You don’t talk for a while, just eat. He’s halfway through his burger when he speaks first, voice low and casual like he’s picking up a conversation you weren’t sure you’d started. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

You pause mid-bite, looking at him, surprised by the question. He’s looking at you like he’s not sure if he’s crossed a line. And maybe he has, but in a good way.

“Sometimes,” you admit, chewing thoughtfully. “Depends on the night. Some shows, it’s like I’m not even really there, just... going through the motions. Others, it’s everything I wanted since I was a kid, you know?”

He nods, his eyes dropping to the burger in his hands. “Yeah, I get that. Racing’s the same. Some days, it’s all instinct and adrenaline. Other times, it’s like you’re fighting just to stay in the car, like you’re not even sure why you’re doing it.”

You nod back. “Guess it’s hard to keep loving something when it feels more like a job than... whatever it was in the beginning.”

Charles looks up, and there’s something almost wistful in his eyes. “Yeah. But it’s harder to imagine doing anything else. Even when it’s rough.”

You get that. You’ve lived that – the way the music’s a part of you, the way you keep coming back even when you think you’re done. You take another bite, chewing slowly, letting the words sink in before you say, “Sometimes I wonder if I missed my chance to be something else. Like, what if I’d taken a different path, you know?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans back against the couch. “Yeah,” he says eventually, voice quiet. “But then I think about the people I’ve met, the places I’ve been... and I don’t know if I’d trade any of it, even the bad parts.”

It hits you harder than you expect, because that’s exactly it – the good, the bad, the stuff in between that keeps you tethered even when you’re not sure why. You swallow, feeling a lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you say softly, staring at the half-eaten burger in your hand. “I think I get that.”

He shifts beside you, turning a little, and you can feel his gaze on the side of your face. “I used to think I’d have it all figured out by now,” he admits, and there’s a vulnerability there that makes your chest ache. “Like, when I was younger, I thought there’d be this moment where everything would make sense. But it never really does.”

You let out a breath, nodding slowly. “Me too,” you say. “I mean, when I was a kid, I thought I’d be this – ” you wave your hand vaguely, gesturing to the greenroom, the music, the life you’re living “ – and it’s great. Don’t get me wrong, but... I still don’t know if I’m doing it right.”

He laughs, a quiet, almost sad sound, and shakes his head. “I don’t think anyone knows if they’re doing it right. Maybe that’s the point. Just... keep going, even when you don’t know what’s next.”

There’s a silence that stretches between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. You take another bite, and he does too, and for a moment, it’s enough just to sit there, side by side, caught between what you were and what you might be, both of you knowing you’re not alone in the uncertainty.

“Hey,” you say suddenly, breaking the quiet, “at least we get good burgers out of it, right?”

He laughs, and this time it’s real, bright, and warm, and you can’t help but join in. “Yeah,” he agrees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Guess that’s something.”

And it is.

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x you #brightlightwrites

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skyeet-the-writer · 1 year ago

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The One with George Stephanopoulos

this chapter made me want pizza and alcohol okay bye chandler bing x female!reader summary: its been a few months since you moved to the city and you're settling in pretty well with your new group of friends word count: ~4.5k warnings: mentions of black mold, alcohol, a little snooping, but its harmless fun <previous next>

"What would you guys do if you were omnipotent?" you ask suddenly during a quiet afternoon in the cafe.

"Probably make myself immortal," Monica says, looking up from her crossword. "And be able to time-travel, I've always wanted to do that as a kid."

"Ooh, time travel would be sick," you say. "I'd want to immediately know how to play the bass."

"Oh, that's good, that's good." Rachel smiles, handing you your latte.

"What about you, Phoebe?" you ask the woman sitting on the floor.

"I would want, um, world peace. No more hunger. Good things for the rainforest." She grins before quickly adding, "Oh, and bigger boobs!"

"Well, see, you took mine," Ross says. You giggle, holding your warm mug and leaning back into the couch next to Chandler, who quickly removes his arm from behind the couch. "Chandler, what about you?"

Chandler shrugs. "If I were omnipotent for a day, I'd make myself omnipotent forever."

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Lame."

Rachel also tches. "See, there's always that one guy. 'If I had a wish, I'd wish for three more wishes.'"

You laugh again and turn as the door opens. Joey walks in and you hit him with your burning question. "Joey! Joey, what would you do if you were omnipotent for a day?"

He blinks at your question and answers, "Probably kill myself."

Your eyes widen and you breathe out a laugh. "Sorry?"

"Hey," he starts as he takes a seat beside Ross. "If little Joey's dead, then I've got no reason to live."

You shake your head and take a sip of your drink.

"Uh, Joey." Ross's first mistake was to try and help. "Omnipotent."

Joey's eyes widen and in the most sympathetic voice you've ever heard him use, he says, "You are?"

You choke on your drink, laughing into your mug and almost spilling coffee on yourself. Chandler places a hand on your back while Phoebe hands you a napkin, taking your drink from you. You laugh again, wiping your face, and look at Joey.

"Dude, you're so funny. Do you know that?"

Joey smiles and shrugs. "People say that I am."

You clear your throat and lean back in your seat again. Chandler has an arm across the back of the couch again, but this time he doesn't move it, something everyone but you catches on to.

His arm doesn't move for the next thirty minutes either. Eventually, you notice but think nothing of it. Ross does it with Phoebe and there's certainly nothing there. Your newfound friend group talks about nothing and everything at once as the afternoon grows later. After a while, you glance at your watch and realize you need to head out, even though you don't want to.

With a groan, you sit up. "I've got to head out."

"Why?" Monica wonders.

You sniff and start to get your things together in your tote bag. "My window is leaking in my bathroom and kitchen, so my super is going to check it out. Also, there's this weird substance on my windowsills that looks like dirt, but I swear to god if it's black mold I'm going to kill someone."

"Well, good luck," Chandler says, watching you take out your walkman and put the headphones around your neck.

"I'll be back in an hour or so," you tell them and start your mixtape. "See you guys later."

And then you head out. Chandler watches you through the window--which isn't creepy because it's so big. He watches you take out your lighter and light a cigarette before walking on your way. For someone who moved to the city a few months ago, you already seem very much at home.

The second the door closes, Joey moves to sit by Chandler and says, "Chan. If you don't ask her out, I'm going to."

"Yeah, why haven't you asked her yet?" Monica asks. "With the way your arm was behind her for an hour, someone would assume you guys are dating."

Chandler scoffs and shrugs, feeling his neck heat up. "I--I don't know. I think she's too cool for me."

"She's too cool for all of us," Ross says.

"I think she's into you." Phoebe pokes his leg and smiles. "She's always around you."

"Yeah, because I was the first person she met here and she's my friend."

"So? I think you'd have a shot." Phoebe tells him. "Her aura is brighter around you."

Chandler isn't sure what that means, but he shrugs anyway. "I--I don't know. I really think she's cool, I don't want to mess this friendship up."

His friends nod in understanding but Joey asks, "So, does this mean I can ask her on a date?"

"No!" he blurts out, perhaps too loudly because someone at a neighboring table turns to glare at him for a moment.

"Woah, okay, man." Joey holds his hands up in surrender. "I know now to mess with your girl."

Heat rushes to Chandler's cheeks and he huffs, feeling very uncomfortable. "Whatever."

~*~

An hour and a half later, you return to the coffee shop pissed out of your mind. You angrily open the door and let it slam shut behind you. Monica, Phoebe, and Ross are still here and all look at you when you approach. You're frowning, something they've never seen you do before, and your head looks like it's about to explode.

"Woah, what's up?" Monica asks as you dramatically sit between Ross and Phoebe. "You look pissed."

"Because I am," you snap, shedding your jacket. "There's black fucking mold in my apartment."

"Oh, gross!"

"No, it gets better," you add, looking between your friends while your heart thumps rapidly in your throat. "It's not just my apartment. It's the entire goddamn floor."

"Oh no!"

"That's awful."

Phoebe puts her arm around you and you lean into your side, feeling yourself calm down quickly as her scent of patchouli envelops you. "I asked how long it would take them to fix it, but the super said I had to move out for a week."

"For a week?" Monica asks.

You nod. "Yeah. I hate to ask, but could I maybe stay with you and Rachel? I'll chip in with food and stuff."

Monica smiles and says, "Yeah, of course. Phoebe was actually going to be spending the night too, we can have a girls' night."

"Oh, that's fun!" Phoebe exclaims, smiling.

You grin and feel your anger slip away. You're lucky to have these people as your friends. "Thanks."

~*~

Later that night, you're making drinks with Phoebe and Monica while dressed in your pajamas. You went to your apartment to pack your things and you're glad you did your laundry yesterday.

Rachel is out with her friends and you want to assume they're nice, but they give you snooty rich-girl vibes. Plus their screaming only made you more angry than you were before, but now that you've taken two shots of rum, you feel a little better.

You fire up the blender again on your famous Tiki Death Punch--which is really just a strawberry and pineapple daiquiri--while Phoebe gets the glasses out and the door opens.

"Hey, Rach," Monica greets, finishing up the cookie dough. "How was it with your friends?"

And then, in unison, you, Phoebe, and Monica scream, mocking what Rachel and her friends did. You giggle and take off the lid to analyze your work before unplugging the blender and moving toward the glasses. But when you look back up, Rachel does not look amused and you hiss through your teeth. "Anyway, you want some Tiki Death Punch?"

"What's that?" Rachel asks, sounding exhausted.

You finish pouring the third glass and answer, "Well, it's rum and--"

Rachel doesn't even let you finish before she's taken the pitcher from your hands and is sticking a straw through the liquid.

You blink at your empty hands. "Okay."

"We thought that Phoebe was staying over and Y/N is staying here for the week, we'd have kinda like a slumber party thing. We've got trashy magazines, we've got cookie dough, we got Twister."

"I brought Monopoly and Balderdash," you add, glancing at the phone as it rings.

"And I brought Operation," Phoebe says, walking towards Rachel, who looks miserable. "But, um, I lost the tweezers so we can't operate. But we can prep the guy!"

You smile at her enthusiasm.

With the phone in her hand, Monica walks towards Rachel and says, "Uh, Rach, it's the Visa card people."

She groans and rolls her eyes. "Oh, God, ask them what they want."

"Could you please tell me what this is in reference to?" Monica asks into the phone before lowering it down and addressing Rachel. "Um, they say there's been some unusual activity on your account."

"But I haven't used my card in weeks," Rachel says, sounding even more exasperated now.

"That is the unusual activity." Rachel stands and pinches the bridge of her nose as Monica adds, "Look, they just want to see if you're okay."

"They want to know if I'm okay? Okay, they want to know if I'm okay. Okay, let's see." Slowly, you take a sip each time she says okay. "Well, let's see, the FICA guys took all my money. Everyone I know is either getting married or getting pregnant or getting promoted and I'm getting coffee. And it's not even for me! So if that sounds like I'm okay, okay, then you can tell them I'm okay. Okay?"

You swallow your last sip and see that half of your drink is gone.

Monica slowly licks her lips and lifts the phone to her ear. "Uh, Rachel has left the building. Can you call back?"

"Alright, come on!" With her voice breaking and tears in her eyes, Rachel unfurls the game mat and says, "Let's play Twister."

"Oh, Rachel!" You walk over to her and lead her to the couch as she wipes her tears. "Come on, babe, it's okay, you're fine."

"No, I'm not!" she exclaims, sniffling. "Everyone I know is being more productive than I am."

Monica sits on the other side of her and rubs her arm. "Oh, come on. You should feel great about yourself. You're doing this amazing and independent thing!"

But she just rolls her eyes and asks, "Monica, what is so amazing? I gave up, like, everything! And for what?"

"You are just like Jack!" Phoebe exclaims from her spot on the table.

Looking at her, you squint. "Pheebs, I'm a little tipsy, but what are you talking about?"

"Jack from 'Jack and the Beanstalk'," she answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "See, he gave up something, but then he got those magic beans. And then he woke up and there was this--this big plant outside of his window full of possibilities and stuff. And he lived in a village and you live in the village."

Rachel holds up a hand to stop her. "Okay, but, Pheebs, Pheebs. Jack gave up a cow. I gave up an orthodontist. Okay? I--I know I didn't love him, but--"

"Oh, see, Jack did love the cow."

You sigh and take another long sip of your drink.

"But, see, it was a plan," Rachel continues. "You know? It was clear. Everything was figured out and now everything's just kinda like..."

She flails her hands around, searching for the word, and you suggest, "Floopy?"

"Yeah."

You put your hands back on her arm and say, "I've been there."

"Really?" she asks, looking at you.

You nod. "Yeah, I'm there right now. I mean, I want to be a famous screenwriter and probably a director. But I live in a shitty apartment with black mold and I work as a hostess." You laugh at yourself and continue. "I live, like, three thousand kilometers away from home in a whole new country. I was supposed to go to school for nursing because my mom and my dad are both doctors, but I changed my major halfway through and moved here." You smile at her and rub up and down her arm. "And I'm happy I did because I met you guys. And, sure, I kind of hate my job and I don't have any time to write and I pour oil down my drains to fuck with my landlord. But I'm doing my own thing, doing what I like. Not what everyone else is doing. Does that make sense?"

Rachel shrugs, but then she nods.

Monica puts a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, you've just gotta figure at some point it's all gonna come together, and it's just gonna be...un-floopy."

But then Rachel sighs and says, "Okay, but, Monica, what if--what if it doesn't come together?"

Monica rocks back and forth, searching for an answer, before quietly saying, "Pheebs?"

Phoebe puts her drink down and starts, "Well, 'cause you just like...I don't like this question. Y/N?"

You think about this question every night in bed, but you don't have an answer. And so you look around, muttering things under your breath so the heat will be off you.

"Okay, see, see you guys? What if we don't get magic beans? I mean, what if all we've got are...beans?"

Yeah, that's a thought that crosses your mind in the middle of the night too. And so you loudly slurp up the rest of your drink and pick up the pitcher. "I need more rum."

~*~

An hour and two pitchers of Tiki Death Punch later, you're all sitting in various positions in the living room. Phoebe is lying on the floor with her head on the ottoman and her hair over her face. Monica is eating cookie dough right out of the bowl with the wooden spoon. Rachel is lying across the couch with her legs in your lap. You're on your third drink and you're not even sure you can finish that. God, you're depressed, you really should get in touch with a pharmacist to get back on Prozac, but that's a hassle with the American healthcare system. Why can't it just be free like the rest of the world?

Rachel, who is changed into much comfier clothes, sighs and says, "I'm sorry, guys, I didn't mean to bring you down."

"No, you were right," Monica says, smushing the dough. "I don't have a plan!"

There's a knock at the door and that's the first time you've felt happy in forty-five minutes. "Thank Christ, food."

Rachel gets up to get the pizza and Monica says, "Phoebe?"

"Huh?" She flips her ponytail out from her face.

"Do you have a plan?"

She scoffs and says, "I don't even have a pla'."

Rachel swings the door open and a young teenage kid is standing there with pizzas. "Hi. One mushroom, green pepper, and onion?"

You almost burst into tears right then and there.

Rachel sighs. "No, no, no that's not what we ordered! We ordered a fat-free crust with extra cheese!" She also sounds like she's about to cry and lifts her fingers to her temple.

"Wait, you're not G. Stephanopoulos?"

"No."

"Oh, man, my dad's gonna kill me!"

Suddenly, Monica jumps across your legs and you almost piss yourself. Slowly, you and Phoebe follow as she asks the teenager, "Did you say G. Stephanopoulos?"

He nods. "Yeah, yeah, this one goes across the street. I must've given him yours. Oh, bonehead, bonehead." To be honest, him hitting himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand does make you smile a little.

"Wait, was this a--a small Mediterranean guy with curiously intelligent good looks?"

The kid nods. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Was he wearing a stunning blue suit?"

"A--and a power tie?" Phoebe adds.

The kid shakes his head. "Nah, pretty much just a towel."

Monica's mouth drops and she leans on Phoebe for support like she's swooning. "Oh, god."

"So do you guys want me to take this back?" the poor kid asks.

"What? Are you nuts?" Monica seizes the pizza from his hand. "We've got George Stephanopoulos' pizza!"

While Rachel pays the kid, Monica rushes to the window and grabs the binoculars.

"Who is George Stephanopoulos?" you ask Phoebe.

But before she can answer, Monica shouts out, "I see pizza!"

Phoebe runs over to look, but you and Rachel stay by the pizza. You open it and almost start to salivate. You haven't eaten since lunch and you've been craving pizza all week.

"Who are we spying on?" Rachel wonders.

"You know the White House Advisor? Clinton's campaign guy, uh, the one with the great hair, sexy smile, and really cute butt?"

You laugh at her description and eat a piece of bell pepper. "No, but I wish I did."

Rachel nods. "Oh, yeah, the little guy! Oh, I love him!"

Together, you each take a piece of pizza and walk over to the window as Phoebe says, "Ooh, wait, I see a woman."

"Oh, please tell me it's his mother," Monica says.

You squint to try to see where she's looking, but it's too dark for you to see much.

And then Phoebe says, "It's definitely not his mother."

"Oh no."

"Oh, wait, she walking across the floor. She's walking, she's walking, she's going for the pizza." Angrily, Phoebe shouts out, "Hey, that's not for you, bitch!" Quickly, she covers her mouth and the four of you giggle. Rachel hands Monica her piece of pizza and you bite into your own.

Yeah, you don't need Prozac anymore, not if you have pizza and the girls.

~*~

A little while later, you're all out on the balcony. You're full of pizza and alcohol, but you're drinking water now. It's cold outside and there's a blanket over the metal chair you're sitting on and you're wearing the red sweatshirt Chandler gave to you a couple of weeks ago when you said you were cold. You forgot to give it back and maybe if you wear it you'll remember.

Monica comes back in with another pitcher of Death Punch and by now you're sure you've used up all your rum. But it's okay because you're having fun spying on his American politician with your friends.

"Are the lights still out?" Monica asks, climbing through the window.

"Yeah," Rachel says, binoculars still glued to her eyes.

"Well, maybe they're napping."

You scoff, straw halfway in your mouth. "Please, they're having sex, Mon."

"Shut up!" Monica and Phoebe shout at the same time.

You laugh, leaning your head back.

Everyone gets their drinks and sits back down when Rachel asks, "So what do you think George is like?"

"I think he's shy," Monica answers.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I think you have to draw him out. And then...when you do, he's a preppy animal."

You all giggle and you feel like a schoolgirl again. You swat at her while she laughs and you laugh and so do Phoebe and Rachel.

Another half-hour later, you're all laughing and telling each other lies that you've told other people.

"Okay, okay I got one," Monica says and looks at Phoebe. "Do you remember that vegetarian pâté that I made that you loved so much?"

The vegetarian nods.

Monica snickers. "Well, unless goose is a vegetable!"

You and Rachel laugh while Phoebe screws her face up in disgust.

"Okay, fine, fine. Now I don't feel so bad about sleeping with Jason Hurley."

You sip on your water, having no idea who that is, but enjoying the way Monica's eyes widen. "What? You slept with Jason?"

"You were already broken up."

"How long?"

Phoebe shrugs. "Just a couple hours."

You laugh while Monica rolls her eyes.

Giggling, Rachel sits up. "Okay, okay, I got one." But since the pillow is leaning on the side of the wall, when she sits up, it falls to the balcony below. You smile as she continues. "Anyway. The Valentine Tommy Rollerson left in your locker was really from me!"

Monica looks at her friend. "Excuse me?"

Rachel returns to her original position. "Oh, hello? Like he was really gonna send you one." Monica rolls her eyes and Rachel adds, "She was a big girl."

You gasp and laugh.

"Well, at least big girls don't pee their pants in the seventh grade," she retaliates, leaning toward you and Phoebe.

Rachel gasps, "I was laughing! You made me laugh!"

As the two girls argue, movement catches your eye and you look across the street to where George lives and gasp, standing up. "Look, there he is!"

"Where?"

You blink, pointing at his huge windows. "Right where we've been looking all night."

Together, the four of you watch this man stand only clad in a towel. If you were sober, you'd feel bad.

"Oh, he's so cute," Rachel says.

"George, baby, drop the towel!" Monica exclaims.

In unison, you all chant "Drop the towel" and you're pretty sure he can hear you. Because then he does. And you gasp and all say, "Wow."

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look away, giggling. "Okay, I don't know if Clinton is a good president, but I'll vote for him if that's his campaign manager."

The girls giggle and go back to their seats before you all can be arrested for spying.

"I have a question, Y/N," Rachel says, hopping back up on the ledge.

"What's up?"

"Are you interested in anyone right now?"

You raise a brow at the sudden question. "Well, now I'm interested in George Stephanopoulos."

Rachel rolls her eyes but smiles. "I can understand that."

Shrugging, you stir your water with your straw. "I mean, not really. I moved here a few months ago. I've been trying to figure my way around the city, I guess I haven't had much time to look at anyone like that."

"Then why are you wearing Chandler's sweatshirt?" Phoebe asks, smiling as she takes a sip of her drink.

You look down at the piece of fabric and rub it between your fingers. It's soft and thick and it reminds you of him. "He lent it to me the other week. I just...forgot to give it back."

"Okay," Phoebe says with a breathy laugh like she doesn't believe you.

You look at your friends and see that they all have the same expression--they suspect something. "W--what? No, it's not like that!"

"We didn't say anything," Monica assures you.

"You didn't have to." You take another gulp of your drink and feel some heat creep up your cheeks. "I don't know. He's my friend and I think he's cute, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," Rachel agrees and you hear the truth in her voice. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," you tell them. "I mean. Chandler is funny and he's really sweet, but, like, mentally I'm not ready." Something dawns on you and you grab Monica's arm with wide eyes. "Does he have a thing for me?"

"No," she answers easily. "No, have you met Chandler? He's the most socially awkward person I've met."

Slowly, you nod, staring down at your drink. "Okay, okay. Cool. 'Cause I don't want to make things awkward." And then you're quiet, still staring at your drink, before you put it on the small, dingy table and stand up. "I'm going to use the bathroom."

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asks as you wobble over to the window.

"Yeah," you answer, slowly folding yourself to go through it. Your vision is swimming a little. "I'm just drunk."

"We all are," Rachel says and watches as you go back into the apartment. When the door closes, she leans close to her friends and says, "No one tell Chandler."

Monica places a hand on her heart. "No, for sure. She's totally justified, though, I wouldn't want to date someone directly after moving to another country."

Phoebe nods. "Besides, Chandler is a big boy, he can figure out his own feelings." But then she adds after a moment, "Well, maybe not, but that's his problem."

Rachel and Monica chuckle and go back to spying on Stephanopoulos.

~*~

Later, the boys come back from their hockey game. Before you can ask who won, you see Ross wearing a brace over his nose. Chandler tells you that he was hit in the face with a puck and ended up having to go to the emergency room for a broken nose.

But Ross seems in happier spirits than he was before and that you're grateful for.

Eventually, Phoebe, Joey, Monica, and Rachel are playing a game of Twister while Ross flicks the spinner. You're making some more drinks with the remaining rum for the boys to have, figuring they need it after their night.

"What's the legal drinking age in Canada?" Chandler asks, watching you pour the last of your rum into the blender before placing the empty bottle to the side.

"Eighteen," you answer, measuring the sugar with your heart. "Well, actually, it's eighteen in Manitoba, Québec, and Alberta. Everywhere else it's nineteen."

Chandler breathes out a laugh. "It's twenty-one here."

"Can't men be drafted into war when they're eighteen?"

He nods. "Yeah. It's messed up."

You hum and fire the blender up, keeping an elbow on it and closing your eyes. You've had a long day. You're still mad about your apartment and having to squat at Monica and Rachel's for a week. You know they don't mind, but you still feel bad. You'll cook them dinner a few times, that'll be nice. You would clean, but Monica is very particular about it so you figure it's best to leave it be.

Opening your eyes again, you turn the blender off and serve it up, giving one to Chandler first. You clink your glass of water with his and giggle as he smiles. You both take a sip at the same time when Chandler suddenly takes your wrist and holds your arm up.

"This sweatshirt is familiar," he says, teasing evident in his tone.

You smile and shrug. "Some guy gave it to me."

"Is that guy going to get it back?"

You shrug again. "Eventually."

Chandler tilts his head then and says, "You keep it."

"What?" you ask in disbelief. "No, Chandler, it's yours."

He shrugs, resisting the extremely strong urge to run his hand up and down your arm. "It looks better on you."

You scoff. "It does not."

He nods, smiling. "It does." His eyes trail up your figure before landing on your face. "It makes your eyes pop."

"It makes my eyes pop?"

"Yeah."

Smiling just a little, you pull the sleeves over your hands. "Thank you, Chan."

And as you walk away to give Ross his drink, Chandler breathes. He's not entirely sure how he feels about you. You're hot, you're cool, but you're also his friend. And he just basically said your eyes are pretty.

He takes a long drink of your concoction, something called Tiki Death Punch, and pours himself some more. As if that will do anything to calm his nerves. Nothing can calm his nerves when he's with you.

#x reader #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #canadian reader #ross geller #rachel green #joey tribbiani #monica geller #phoebe buffay #don't be fooled #this is a slow burn

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faghubby · 7 months ago

Text

Ever after

I grunted and moaned as Phoebe removed the strapon from my ass.

"Wow, you took every inch" she said playfully smacking my ass. I heard the heavy toy hit the floor.

"You know what I need now" Phoebe giggled she removed her panties and spread her legs at the head of the bed. I moved a little slow after having my ass stretched out. I tasted saw his dried cum on her engorged lips. But I didn't hesitate. Licking and sucking her used pussy.

"You better stop humping the bed, you will chafe with that cage on" Phoebe laughed playing with my hair. As she calmed from the orgasm I had just given her.

"You could taste him couldn't you? Yes I did it. I let a man consumate our marriage for you" Phoebe told me. It was a fantasy I had expressed to her to have her sleep with other men. But until now it had been a game. Something she teased me about.

"Yes I love you" I told her. I so wanted her to unlock me. Instead she got up and went to shower.

"Phoebe" I pleaded grabbing her hand.

"What is it" she smiled knowing exactly what I wanted.

"It's our wedding night" I pleaded.

"Paul, today you promised to honor me. And to do that you will never ask me to unlock your little penis ever again." She told me cupping my cheek and kissed me.

"You didn't even ask who" she smiled. I hung my head. As she went to shower. I got up and cleaned her new strapon she had gotten for tonight. It was heavy, much bigger then the cute pink one we had been using for the last 6 months. This one was realistic looked like a big black cock. 7 maybe 8 inches insertable. With huge balls at the bass. And thick that I could just touch my index finger to my thumb around it. Phoebe got out of the shower as I washed it.

"If you're going to jerk him off you might as well suck it" she laughed. I frowned not amused. But so wanting her to unlock me. I jokingly held it to my lips. Phoebe stopped inner tracks.

"Go ahead then, I will teach you how" she giggled. I put the toy down and she frowned and went into the bedroom.

"Shower!" Phoebe stopped me. Maybe try a cold one" I went back and showered. When I finished Phoebe was already in bed asleep. I noticed she was naked so I slept naked as well.

"Jesus Christ, you leaked everywhere" Phoebe cursed waking me up. I had a wet dream. I had not had one since I was 14. But with being locked up for over a month and all the teasing and expectations. I guess it was to much.

"Obviously can't have you wetting the bed every night" she got uo showered dressed and went out without me.

"Strip the bed, and clean up. I don't want the maid discovering you wet the bed" she was angry. I got dressed as well and order room service. Phoebe returned within 30 minutes.

"Here" shs handed me a box of pantieliners. You can wear these and it will catch all your messes" she smiled. I stared at the box. How would these work with my boxers and I wasn't going to. But before I even finished my thought. Phoebe handed me a package of panties.

"Go try them on" she told me.

"Phoebe this is too far" I told her.

"You will wear them or never spend another night in my bed" she said sternly. I went to change.

"No here, now" she told me. I dropped my shorts. As she opened the package of six cotton panties. All in bright pastel colors and designs.

"I got you bikini, but if you prefer a different style we can try them too" she handed me a pair of pink panties. She had me slide them on and stop to show me how to put in the liner. Then pulled them up. Only then did I put my shorts back on. We went to explore the resort. But Phoebe had me wait in the hall a moment before she joined me. We spent a lovely day exploring the little village nearby. We had a late lunch back at the hotel. Where Phoebe stopped me from ordering a drink. When the waiter walked away to bring me back a virgin frozen cocktail.

"I would like you to give up alcohol. Unless I hand it too you. I want you to never drink again" Phoebe said.

"Why, I never had a problem" I said.

"I just want you to. I feel it may make you forget your place" she told me her foot pushed into my crotch. I wasn't going to have this fight now. So I just nodded. We returned to the room. I immediately saw the strapon and lube on display. I was horrified had the maid pulled it out. I had buried it in the bottom of my suit case. Phoebe immediately started putting it on mover her shorts.

"Leave only your panties on, and get on the bed" Phoebe ordered. I did as she said. She pulled my panties down only to expose my ass. She applied lube and then pushed her cock into my ass.

"You love my big cock don't you?" Phoebe teased. I just grunted as she made forceful thrust but then pulled it back very slow only to repeat the process.

"We are going to have a different kind of marriage together. I want you to except your place" she told me thrusting deep to make her point. "You asked for this, first it was tease, then chastity. Which led to you wanting ass play. Now you are wearing panties and want to learn to suck cock" she pointed out. I tried to speak but she thrust again. "You even let me have another man. A real man consumate our marriage. All you did was clean up his mess" she scolded me. When Phoebe felt I had enough she just calmly pulled out fixed my panties and had me suck her pussy till she came.

This continued everyday. We would spent the day exploring or on the beach. Where she made me wear a speedo. Some nights out dancing or just at the bar( I always ordered virgin cocktails) but once a day she would fuck me. Followed by me going down on her. Sometimes she made me make her cum twice.

She dragged me shopping one afternoon. I was just following her holding her bags.

"How about these" she held up a pair of pink lace panties" she said with a smile. "Let's see you are a large" she continued as she looked thru the rack.

"Phoebe!" I said in a sharp whispered.

"Don't be such a baby" she told me. Then picked out several different types. She had me go up and pay for them. Everyday ones are fine but you need to spice things up as well" she told me as we left. "And I know you are wearing your last clean pair" I wanted to comment that I knew she had stopped wearing panties all together but held my tounge.

"Try on the thong, I want to see if it fits" Phoebe told me as we got back to the room. I changed as she strapped on her cock. It did fit just big enough to hold the cage. Phoebe pulled the thong to the side and fucked me. With a fury. She pounded me. The toy now easily slipped in and out of my ass. She was exhausted by the time she stopped.

"On the dresser there I had room service pick up some things for you" I opened the bag and found hair removal cream, pink disposable razors, ladies shaving gel, and flowery smelling body lotion.

"I want you to remove all that manly hair, you don't deserve it any more" Phoebe told me. I stared at her was she serious.

"When we go home, I expect you to take on the wifely duties around the house. I think if you feel and look girlie it will help you remember your place" Phoebe told me from the bed. This 5'2. 110lbs woman was telling me I was no longer a man.

"Phoebe I am drawing the line" I told her. She got up her toy still attached she grabbed my head as she stood on the bed and pulled me towards her toy. She shoved it in my face.

"Bitch you want nothing more then me to make you suck this dirty cock. So don't tell me you finally decided to play at being a man" she cursed rubbing the dirty toynacross my face.

I was crying as I pulled away and took the bag of stuff into the bathroom. Phoebe came in only to unlock the cage then left. I read the instructions on the hair removal. Even watched a video. Before I began. About an hour later I was rubbing the lotion over my entire body. I had even removed the hair on my arms. I so wanted to play with myself. But instead went to show Phoebe.

"I am proud of you, you didn't even play with your clitty" she smiled. Phoebe stood and pulled off her shorts. She wore simple white panties. "As a reward you can dry hump my pantied ass" she got on all fours on the bed. I got behind her. My hands ran up her thighs and across her ass. I rubbed my cock against her panties. Caught in the moment I jumped her ass. It only took a few minutes to cum all over her panties, cum pumped out of me soaking her panties.

"That's exactly what I thought." Phoebe laughed as she got uo and stripped off her panties. I laid there I felt such relief. "A real man would of tore my panties off and fucked me with all that frustration. But no you where happy to just spill your mess on my panties" Phoebe started to lock my cage back on.

"You will never be inside anyone ever again" Phoebe said kissing me. The last three days of our trip. She barely touched me. Still allowing me to orally please her twice a day. She wore more reveling outfits and slept naked. She also chose the sexiest panties for me to wear. As soon as returned home. We barely got the bags in the house when Phoebe told me she was going out.

"Where we just got home?" I asked

"Not that it is any of your business but I haven't been fucked in 10 days I am going to get laid" she told me, she went to the bedroom. Stunned I followed her.

"What? Who? Phoebe can we talk about this" I pleaded. As I watched her put on lingerie I had never seen before.

"He will like this, don't you think?" She asked me. Throwing on a simple sundress over it. Slipped on some high heels and kissed me goodbye. "Be back later, you should unpack and do the laundry." Then paused. "Your fancy panties need to be hand washed" she smiled one last time and left. I sent out texts to family we had made it home safe. Telling her side as well. I unpacked, even stored the suitcases away. Long before Phoebe returned home. It was late she had been gone for 10 hours. She looked a mess. Her hair and makeup smeared. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her dress. It was obvious that her panties where soaked cum even ran down her thigh.

"Come lick me clean" Phoebe told me. I followed her. I peeled her panties off and licked her lovers cum.

"That's right you know what to do" she cooed rubbing my head.

"His name is Michael" she told me. She didn't let me stop until I had even licked her thigh clean.

"You won't have to worry about me being satisfied Michael does a wonderful job at that" Phoebe told me as she held me after I had finished.

"You do understand your place, I gave you you what you needed. I know it might not of been what you thought you wanted. But I am sure it's what you needed to happen." Phoebe explained. Tears formed in my eyes.

"What do you want ?" Phoebe asked gently. I just nodded towards the drawer we kept toys in.

"Okay go get it" Phoebe told me. I got up and pulled out the strapon. Phoebe stood and had me strap it on her. I was on my knees adjusting the straps. The toy rubbed against my face. Phoebe took hold of it. And held it to my lips. I parted them and let the toy slip into my mouth.

"I sucked Michael's big cock today to" she giggled. I started to bob on her cock. "You are doing well. Relax allow yourself to gag it makes more saliva" she told me. After a few minutes " over time you will get much better at it. Don't forget his balls" she ran her fingers thru my hair.

"Do you want to practice more or?" She giggled. I stooped and removed it from my mouth. She undressed me. Kissing my chest and running her hands over me she laid me on the bed. On my back. She mounted me. She made love to me. Her cock gently moving in and out of my ass. As we kissed and cuddled each other. Eventually she just held me her cock buried inside me.

"This is the life you want with me, lovers will satisfy me. But I love you. You are my soul mate. I just need a man to satisfy me" Phoebe told me. I just kissed her.

"I love you too" I told her.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

If You Can't Dance 1

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Part of The Club AU

“It's so nice to finally meet you in person!” Melinda beams as she holds out a bright drink. The layers of blue and purple make you wonder about its contents.

“Yeah, so awesome,” Faye hollers as she sips from a yellow cocktail. “Must be lonely working from home.”

“Oh, uh, not really,” you sway, trying to avoid the bodies around you. Your throat scrapes as you have to yell over the pumping bass. “It's…quiet.”

“Quiet!? Carly giggles, “then It's good you got out! This merger is going to be lit.”

“Lit?” Melinda, the eldest of the trio rolls her eyes, “you young ones.”

You wade with them through the crowd, the heat of the clubgoers catching beneath the wool of your sweater. You feel out of place in your dowdy pullover and long peasant skirt, especially as sequins and bright prints refract in the rainbow of lights. Even your coworkers belong, blouse sleeves rolled up and blazers handed over to the coatroom.

“Hopefully they're still down for work drinks!” Faye trills.

“Bigger and better. Work mandated cocktails should just be a thing,” Carly guffaws.

“Mmm, and what about work mandated flings?” Faye ogles past you.

You crane to follow her eyeline. You see several men, striding through the crowd with ease. Tall and not bad looking by common standards. You see nothing especially alluring but you understand what people look for; good posture, nice eyes, broad shoulders.

“Erm,” you look back and taste your drink, giving a face. “Is there alcohol in this?” You call over.

“Duh!” Carly laughs again, “oh my god, you're so adorable! Oh, you know what, you should start coming into office. We do lattes on Friday.”

“I er… don't mind….”

You don't finish your protest as the tempo shifts and Faye squeals, “oh this is my song, girls!”

They throw an arm up each, balancing their drinks in their other hands. You sniff the glass and try another gulp. You cough and hide it behind your hand. They barely notice you. No one really does, you're tiny and dressed like wallpaper.

As they shimmy and swing to the music, you don't know what to do. You wiggle awkwardly, but you don't dance and have no rhythm. You find yourself downing the drink out of anxiety.

You feel an odd sensation in your eyelids and a ripple in your brain as you get to the bottom of the drink. You copy Carly and leave your empty glass on a table. Another song and the heat beads on the nape of your neck.

The flashing lights and wall of sound makes you dizzy. You shouldn't have finished the drink. You don't feel right. You look at the others and how they giggle and joke. You don't fit in. Just like always. You know your coding and you know how to be alone.

You sidle close to Melinda, she seems like a mother, well, she kept mentioning her kids. “Is there a bathroom here?”

She laughs, amused by your obvious question, “over there.”

She points through the crowd. You see the top of a sign but not enough to read it. You smile and wave to the other girls, fleeing as they barely notice.

You get caught between a couple as you try to squeeze by. You squeal and get knocked around by a large guy on the other side of them. You're caught in a tidal wave of people as you peer desperately at the neon blue sign.

You can't get there but you need to get out of here. Your skin is on fire, your vision is streaming, and you can't breathe. The air is hot and humid and putrid.

You claw before you, forcing past the crush around you, stumbling towards the entryway. You trip out the door and heave in, gulping down cold air, trying to get your head straight. Your chest hurts and you're shaking. You need help!

You look around for anything. Anyone. The bouncers are distracted with those seeking entry and those in line don't seem to see you. You lean on the corner of the building and put your hand on your sweater.

You clutch the wool and shake your head. It's been a while since you felt this. The world spirals around you as you struggle to steady yourself. You keep your other hand on the wall and murmur. You're going to pass out.

You shouldn't have come here. You knew this would happen. But they didn't give you a choice. The email said mandatory. You need this job. What are you going to do? Everything is falling to pieces.

“Pardon me, are you alright?” A lilting voice startles you. You part from the wall, nearly falling against it as you teeter on your feet, “oh, woah, watch yourself.”

The man catches your arm, keeping you from tipping over. His touch surges in you but you know you can't stand on your own. You gulp and gurgle, fanning yourself.

“S-s-sorry,” you pants, “I just… I can't breathe.”

He leans in as you can barely speak. His blue eyes are intent on you as he keeps you upright, firm but gentle. He nods as he listens to your staggered words.

“I… too hot… inside…”

“Oh, dear, yes, I agree,” he smiles kindly, “here, why don't you…. lean here, yes,” he eases you against the brickfront, “catch your breath,” his accent is soothing, “and…” he looks around, gesturing to the bouncer, “Pardon, yes, would you fetch some water for the lady?”

The man grumbles but glances inside the club. He must know the stranger before you, “you have some water and it'll be just fine. Hmm? Will you count with me?”

You give him a bewildered look but he's already counting, “one, two, three…”

#jonathan pine #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #drabble #au #series #if you can't dance #the club #the night manager

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pjisskullourful · 2 months ago

Text

ɱσσɳʅιɠԋƚ ɱαɠιƈ

🩸 Victoria × reader

18+ readers only!!🔥 blood-thirsty fuckery, shamelessly smutty& explicit

° Victoria De Angelis/female reader insert

° you are something magic, this ain't what I'm used to, let it consume you || your night at a Måneskin concert leads to a once in a lifetime experience when you catch Victoria's eye [based in england, december 2023]

wordcount:: 8,575

° anon request: mommy domme victoria but as a vampire too picking out reader from crowd and having her sexy ways in the hotel after the show & also inspired by my star anon who is the queen of the hot chicks ° got your own request in mind? send it here! but for more control& priority status hit me up for a commission ° lyrics stolen from måneskin & ashnikko ° 🎧HOT VAMP SHIT playlist to add to your reading experience🦇

° [ITA:] meraviglioso: marvellous - cazzo: fuck

supernatural cocky, do it to me, light me up like a moonbeam

You had been to a lot of concerts before (you had stopped being able to easily keep count a couple of years ago), but you had never been this level of entranced by a performer. You were utterly fascinated, unable to take your eyes off of Victoria De Angelis for more than a second. She was the whole show to you and you studied her every motion.

You had attended a Måneskin concert before and you couldn't remember being this level of obsessed with just the bassist. The videos on your phone from that night had tried to capture all four musicians at once. It had also captured the few rows of people standing between you and the stage.

But tonight you were at the front of the crowd, which had been exhilarating even before the band had taken to the stage. You and your best friend, Nadia, were thrilled that your early arrival had secured you this spot. There was absolutely no one blocking your view as you stood at the barricade, on the left of the stage's front.

Everyone had been screaming when the house lights dimmed and the background music was shut off. But your cheering had gotten even louder when Victoria had come into view, wearing her guitar as she strode to the front of the stage, directly in front of you. You were enamoured by the way her hair flowed and you immediately loved the look of her studded mini-skirt.

You had made a (kind of explicit) sign, specifically for her and you had lifted it above your head straight away. LET ME CALL YOU MUMMY.

Beforehand, you hadn't known if she would understand the intent, or even see the sign. It had been made with a rush of adrenaline, half-joking around with Nadia and seeing how sexual you were willing to get.

You saw Victoria's eyes land on it, and the smile already on her face had gotten bigger. Her eyes had moved down and you thought you saw her wink at you. Your arms had felt numb as you lowered the poster, instantly finding reasons to disbelieve what you had seen from the bass player.

You had taken your eyes off of her during the first song, when someone wearing a lanyard had approached from the other side of the barricade. They stood directly in front of you, making eye contact. It might have been easy to fear that you were going to get a stern talking-to after accidentally doing something troublesome.

“Do you wanna be on stage?” They asked.

You had seen the videos online, you knew exactly what this meant, nodding your head as vigorously as possible. “Fuck yeah!”

“Yes!” Nadia had joined in, extending her arm for one of the wristbands that the staff member was holding.

They had wrapped the paper accessories around your wrist and hers. Over the song, they had given the two of you instructions of where to go and when.

Once they were gone, Nadia had grabbed you, screaming her excitement. This was a rare opportunity given to only about twenty fans per show, it was almost like winning the lottery.

You hadn't been able to think of anything to say back, because your eyes had gotten stuck on Victoria again. You hung on her every confident step and marvelled at the precision of her fingers.

You had never seen somebody so sexy in real life before. Seeing her beauty so many times on a screen, it was easy to assume there was some production magic involved - filters, blurring makeup, flattering lighting and angles, truly the best money could buy.

But as you stared up at her, trying to memorise all of these incredible details, you had seen that she was actually just that gorgeous. There wasn't a single feature that could turn you off. You dedicated more than a respectful amount of seconds looking at the little black love hearts that were pasted to each of her exposed breasts, covering the nipples.

As she had looked in your general direction (was it just wishful thinking that she was looking at you?) recklessly filthy images filled your head. You hardly knew where they had come from, but you were inundated to the point where you could hardly concentrate on anything else. You couldn't help yourself, you were suddenly ravenous for all of it.

You wondered how it would feel to have her lips all over your neck. You had pictured scissoring, desperately rubbing your cunt on hers. You hadn't done that with someone in such a long time, but it was often on your mind, the delights from previous experiences lingering in the deepest part of you. You had imagined how she might look riding your face, rocking her body with more intensity than she showed on stage. Images of worshipping her breasts couldn't be ignored and you had noticed that you felt damp in your panties.

You didn't think you had ever been driven so wild just by looking at someone before. Your libido was out of control. It was like the seduction was already happening, independent of words or touches.

When it was finally time to join the performers on stage, you dropped your sign. You didn't feel brave enough to hold it up to her directly, you didn't know how she would react and that intimidated the Hell out of you. The group of fans began to rush the stage and you followed Nadia up the small staircase.

Victoria was the first band member that you reached, and while other fans spread out across the stage, you got too caught up in staring at her to care about anything else. She met your eye, smiling at you. It was like a magnetic pull and you got closer to her.

There were other fans around her, but no one was taking up the space directly in front of her. Amongst all of the other giddy activity on the stage, you were focused purely on her. The rest of the noise faded down as she focused on you too.

She pointed to the spot in front of her feet, seeming to want you to stand there, even closer. You never dreamed that you would be this close, amazed and pumping with adrenaline.

You were reminded of dancing with someone at a nightclub when she planted her foot in the gap between yours, rocking her body weight toward you. There were a few measly inches between the two of you, just enough space for her to continue playing the guitar.

“Cool kids, they do not use floss…”

As the song began, she moved to the beat, tossing her hair around. She looked so free and happy, you wanted to feel the same way.

Her exposed legs brushed and rubbed against yours. She was smiling as she sang along, just like everyone else on stage. The energy was as incredible as it always looked in the videos - it was certain that no one else was having as much fun as the group on stage.

She looked around at the other close-by fans, sharing her enthusiasm with them. But her eyes always returned to you. It didn’t seem real that she would find you so interesting.

She had propped her foot up onto her tip-toes, raising the leg that was between both of yours. Her dancing saw this leg continuously rubbing on your thighs, even pushing into your crotch every so often. Your movements made your bodies come together with more impact and you were soon filling with tingles.

“I’m a bitch and I have much fun…”

Your mouth was forming the words to this track that you knew so well, but you weren’t paying them any attention. You were too busy marvelling at how dancing with her could feel so intimate. You were obsessed with the spots where you could feel her body pressed on yours.

You licked your lips as your thoughts returned to their earlier depraved track. You imagined other intimate scenarios. You pictured properly grinding on her, with no guitar to block you. You imagined how good it would feel to keep her thigh between your legs.

She looked over your shoulder, momentarily locking eyes with someone or something. Her hand came off of the guitar so that she could gesture in a very specific way. Then she nodded and looked back at you, winking.

Before anything could progress (and it really felt like it could), she took a step back then turned away. She went over to share Damiano’s microphone for a few lines of lyrics.

They were flocked by fans and your clear path to her was gone, now you only caught glimpses of her long hair as she bounced around with the excited group.

It seemed your moment with her was over. You knew there was still fun to be had before the song was through. But there was a pang of disappointment, wishing for more time in her sphere.

You spotted Nadia dancing on the opposite side of the stage, where Thomas was playing his guitar. You made your way over to your friend, who spotted you instantly. She grabbed your hand, pulling you over to dance together, her energy giving you a boost.

The lead guitarist was just as interactive as Victoria, singing with the guests on his stage. But he didn’t have the same effect on you. You smiled when you caught his eye, but you didn’t have the feeling that you absolutely couldn’t look away. Nor did it feel like your legs were about to turn into jelly.

The song had never felt so short and before you knew it, each of the musicians took their exit from the stage. You still had an abundance of enthusiasm, you wanted more. But you were surrounded only by regular people - the spectators rather than the spectacle. There was no more music to listen to.

Casually dressed members of the security team started to gently shepherd everyone off of the stage. You went with the traffic, going back to that staircase with Nadia at your side.

Someone wearing a lanyard approached you, putting themselves in your path. They showed you a friendly smile as you slowed your pace, Nadia doing the same.

“Hey, could you come with me, please?” They requested.

You were confused, glancing at your friend instead of answering immediately. None of the other people from the stage had been singled out like this. But you didn’t have the sense that you were about to be told off for doing something wrong.

“Yes, we will definitely go backstage with you.” She answered without a hint of trepidation.

“Actually, I was only talking to her.” They said, pointing at you.

“Uh, yeah, I can- sure.” You said, you could feel your hopes going up even though you didn’t know what you should be preparing for.

“I gotta be awkward somewhere else.” Nadia said.

She gave your arm a parting squeeze before this staff member started to lead you away from everyone else. Your curiosity was practically overflowing as the entrance to the backstage area got closer.

They pulled back a thick black curtain, revealing an area where there was room to move and perfect lighting. There were people moving around, each wearing identifying lanyards. You had never been somewhere so exclusive before and you made a mental note to not do anything to screw up this experience.

Before you had finished scanning across this large area, you spotted her. Victoria was positioned at one of the available vanity tables, touching up the pigment on her lips. Immediately you got that flurry of butterflies in your tummy again.

And your chaperone started to lead you in her direction. You stopped noticing the details of this expansive room, feeling that sensation of being magnetically drawn to her return.

You caught her eye in the mirror and she turned around, smiling. She extended her hand out toward you and you copied her, eagerly walking faster than the person who had been escorting you.

“Hi again.” You said, placing your hand in hers.

She held it securely, lightly pulling to bring you in as close as you had been on stage. “Hey. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your night, I just had to tell you how much I love your sign.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks were burning with heat. “I’m glad you liked it, I was worried it could come off as disrespectful.”

“Definitely not.” She said. “It was sexy and it would be even sexier if you meant it.” She had eased herself in closer and she was caressing the back of your hand with her thumb. “Did you really mean it, do you wanna call me Mummy?”

“Yes, I would- who wouldn’t- you’re so amaz- and I have a huge crush on you.” You didn’t know how to articulate the excitement rushing your system.

“And you’re queer?” She asked.

You nodded. “Yes, pansexual.”

“Cool.” She said and she used her free hand to rub your arm. “Are you single?”

“Yes.” You said without hesitation, not slowing yourself down by thinking about Cooper lying in the bed that you shared.

She licked her lips. “Meraviglioso.” She kept both of her hands on you as her eyes relocated to someone else. She gave a purposeful nod and it seemed certain this operation had been practised more than a few times. “I’ve gotta get back on stage for the encore, so my friend Stefano is gonna take care of you for a bit. He’s gonna take you back to my hotel room, where I’ll join you in about an hour. Is that okay with you?”

“Definitely.” You said, you were amazed by how everything was falling into place. Somehow you had stumbled into a perfect scenario.

“Awesome, I’ll see you later.” She said, she lifted your hand up so that she could kiss the back of it, leaving a print of her lipstick there. “Before I get there, you can think about what you want me to call you while you’re calling me Mummy.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You said.

She squeezed your hand before letting it go. “I’ll see you soon.”

Her eyes lingered on you as she began to move away. You turned around to keep watching her, just as engrossed as ever.

You didn’t mind missing out on the last two songs of the set, you didn’t think that you would be able to concentrate properly. Already your thoughts were racing, strong enough to completely carry you away. Now you had permission to get filthy, there wasn’t any reason to censor yourself or try reining your libido in.

You were still smiling and blushing, even after she had disappeared from sight. This was a high that hadn’t yet reached its peak, it wasn’t about to fade away.

The guy who had brought you backstage, now you knew he was Stefano, approached you again. “Hey, are you ready to go?”

“Definitely.” You replied.

The exclusive space of the green room was left behind as you progressed to somewhere even more exclusive - Victoria’s bedroom. He led you down a staircase and through a door to the much quieter outside. A car was waiting close-by, someone in the driver's seat. Stefano got in the front passenger seat and you got into the back.

Neither he nor the driver tried to strike up a conversation with you, understanding that you weren’t here for them to get to know. There was the possibility of them judging you for agreeing to a one night stand, maybe they found your morals questionable.

But this was a once in a lifetime experience. And the closer you got to it, the more it intoxicated you. It was exceedingly easy to concentrate solely on the positive before you.

You brought your phone out of your bag, finding nine text messages from Nadia waiting for you. She wanted to know what was going on, expressing how mind blown by all of this she was. Then she wanted to coordinate a plan of how the two of you could meet back up.

I don’t really know whats going on. They took me back to talk to Victoria and she asked if I wanted to go back to her hotel. And I said yes?? You typed your response. So now I’m in a car. I’m safe and all, don’t worry about me. But you should probably just head home. And I’ll see you when I see you.

You sent this message, then returned to the main screen of your inbox. Beneath your communication with Nadia, there was a conversation labelled Cooper. You didn’t open this. You told yourself that you didn’t need to tell your boyfriend what was going on. Before leaving for the concert, you had said you would most likely spend the night at Nadia’s place. He wasn’t expecting you to return home, he wouldn’t know that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Until you could tell him face-to-face. And that was when you would let him know that you had made use of the metaphorical hall pass.

This was an agreement that had been in place for more than half of your relationship. You had agreed that one night stands weren’t cheating, they weren’t grounds for a break up.

It had only been theoretical to you up until tonight. You were sure that he would totally understand your decision once you explained it.

This became your truth and you liked it. You didn’t give it any more thought. Instead your focus and energy went to the incredible once in a lifetime experience you were approaching.

≿━━━━༺🦇༻━━━━≾

you do something wicked to me, mystical when you seduce me

You kept waiting for something to go wrong. You were expecting to be told that a mistake had occurred and you had to leave right away, because you should have never been brought here in the first place. Why would someone as extraordinary as Victoria have any interest in you, who was so ordinary? Sitting alone, you couldn’t fight the feeling that this bubble was about to burst.

But then the suite’s door opened and the gorgeous woman came in, promptly sweeping you up in new emotions. You sat forward on the sofa, your heart already starting to race.

She was unaccompanied, instantly shutting out the rest of the world by closing and locking the door. Even though she was no longer dressed for the stage, she was just as eye-catching to you in her baggy jeans.

“My dear…” She said after discarding her shoulder bag. “You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

You got to your feet as she came toward you. “Yeah, me too.”

She didn’t immediately step into your personal space, the restraint marking a change in behaviour. “I want to be honest about why I had you come back here. No nasty surprises. I’m a vampire.”

You wanted to laugh but the sound didn’t come, instead your throat started to clench. “You’re- what are you- vampi- you must be kidding- I don’t understand.”

She nodded. “It’s a lot to wrap your head around, I get that.” She was looking deeply into your eyes as she picked up your hand to hold in hers. “But you don’t need to panic, I promise that you’re not in any danger. It’s up to you if you stay or go, I won’t hold you against your will.” You had turned your wrist so that you could interlock your fingers with hers. “But if you do choose to stay…

“Any pain that you feel will be vastly out-weighed by the pleasure that I plan to give to you. You’ll feel so good that any hurt will be instantly forgotten. It’s my goal to make you feel good- well, myself, too.” She was smiling as she spoke. “Because I’ve been working so hard on this tour and the travel that goes along with it is so exhausting. Fun, but…

“The point is, I need to feed to refresh myself. I give so much of myself at shows and in interviews and all of the other interactions. So I just wanna be selfish.” Her free hand played with some of your hair. “Will you let me be selfish?”

You had been feeling a sense of warmth as you listened to her, most of your fears were too quiet to be worth noticing. You already knew that you were going to agree to spending the night with her, even if uncertainties lingered right now.

“What exactly do you mean by feed?” You asked.

“Well, even though this is your first meeting with one of us, I’m sure you’ve heard enough about vampires to know that our meal of choice is blood.” She said, starting to subtly nod her head. Without realising, you copied her. “I would bite you to get some little drinks here and there. But I’m not interested in draining you. You will leave this hotel in perfect health, I promise you.”

She released your hand and took a half-step back. “If you don’t believe me, you can leave right now, angel.”

But you didn’t even glance at the door that led to your freedom.

As you looked deeply into her eyes, you felt like from above your head, honey was being poured onto your body. It was smooth and warm, bringing comfort as it covered you.

You looked at her lips and there was only one thing you wanted to do. You rushed to close the gap between the two of you, bringing your hands up to her face. You saw only approval in her eyes, then you shut your own, guiding your lips to hers.

At once you felt her responding, her lips caressing yours so sweetly. You went further into the fantasy with so much excitement, feeling her smooth cheeks beneath your fingers.

She tilted her head, deepening the kiss and you could feel the beginnings of moisture on your lips. At the same time, she wound an arm around your middle, using this to bring your chest flush to hers.

Your desire was poised to spill over. You weren’t trying to feel out any dangerously pointed teeth as you ventured your tongue into her mouth, you just wanted to taste more of her. She put her hand to the back of your head, encouraging you to stay in this intimacy. You could feel an ache between your thighs.

“Mn, Mummy.” You whined against her lips. “I could get addicted to your kisses.”

She lifted up the hem of your dress with her hand under the material. “That's exactly what I want.” She pushed her hips firmly against yours as she secured some more kisses. “I want you to fuck me. Can you do that for me? Just let me lie back while you give me a mind-blowing orgasm that melts all my stress away.”

“I would love to do that for you.” You said.

“Do you know your way around a strap-on?” She asked.

You were nodding your head, even though it had been more than two years since your last time using one. You didn't think it would be terribly difficult to pick the skill back up, especially considering your determination to make her feel good.

“Yeah, I mean- it's not my first time using one.” You said.

“Fuck yeah, I picked the right girl tonight, huh?” She smiled as she came in for more kisses.

She subtly rubbed the front of her body on you as each kiss was quickly followed with another. Her fingers grasped directly onto the skin beneath your dress.

“Get naked for me.” She said, her voice low but stern. “Mummy wants to see her perfect girl properly.”

You started to do it instantly, shedding the dress you had picked out months ago. You didn’t stop until your body was entirely bare, your insecurities not strong enough to slow you down. Her eyes lit up, travelling down your body as she held a hand reassuringly on your side.

She drew you in with a hand on your heated cheek. “You should get to hear me say it again- I want you to fuck me.”

You saw her bright smile for less than a second before her mouth crushed against yours. A series of passionate kisses commenced with her hands exploring across your body. And you were equally greedy, pushing both of your hands under her tank top, feeling at all you could reach.

“Mummy…” You whimpered. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

Her hand collided with your uncovered ass, making you gasp and your heart excitedly skipped over a few beats. “That’s not how a good idea gets me to take my clothes off. Do I have to teach you manners?”

You loved the way this changed the atmosphere, adding a tension that hadn’t been present before. It didn’t make you uncomfortable, it was exciting. You understood the role she wanted you to play and you accepted it instantly.

“No, you don’t. I’ll be polite, I’ll be so polite. Please, will you take your clothes off for me?” You asked.

She didn’t spank your ass again, giving it a teasing squeeze instead. Then she took your arm and started walking away from the door, taking you towards the bed. “Do you have any idea how sexy you make that word sound?”

“Which word?” You asked, wearing a proud smile. “Please?”

She hummed happily and gave you a shove, sending you onto the mattress. “Mm-hmm, that’s the one.”

“I’ll say it as many times as you want.” You said, looking up at her with eyes full of admiration.

She had started to undo the fly of her jeans and your interest was instantly secured. Your eyes grew wide, you were enthralled by the sight of her panties. It was a black thong, allowing you to stare at her thighs as she worked the denim down.

“Please.” You said, quieter than before as you yearned to return your hands to her incredible body. “Please, Mummy.”

She smiled and reached for the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up. Your pussy was flooded with heat upon looking at her completely bare chest.

“Did it hurt?” You asked.

She chuckled. “You are not about to use that cheesy old line and ask if it hurt when I fell from Heaven. You’re smart enough to know that I’ve never been near Heaven.”

“No, I wasn’t going to say that at all. I was talking about your nipples. Does it hurt when you take those sticker cover things off?” You asked.

“No, they’re fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore than taking off a pair of false eyelashes does.” She said.

“Oh. ‘Cause I was gonna offer to kiss them better if they were hurting at all…” You said.

She smiled. “Have you been thinking about kissing my tits?”

“More like worshipping them.” You said before any kind of modesty could stop you. You weren’t used to being so bold and shameless with someone you had just met. But there was something about her presence that influenced you to not hold back.

She walked away from the end of the bed, going over to a small collection of suitcases and bags. You watched her open a black case.

“I’m glad you think there’s enough to worship.” She said.

“They’re absolutely perfect to me, Mummy. I would spend hours worshipping them… if you would like that, please.”

She chuckled to herself and draped a few lengths of fabric over her shoulder. “I’m sure we can make some time for that.”

The next thing she pulled out of the suitcase was much more eye-catching - a dildo. The long object was covered in a leopard-print pattern. She held this in one hand as she reached in for another item. Once she had found the bottle of lubricant, she brought everything over to the bed where you waited.

She offered the harness that would fit around your ass and thighs. As you started trying to make sense of the straps and how they connected, she pushed her underwear down.

Her naked body was all of the motivation that you needed. You were inspired to get the belt on as quickly as you could manage. You got each of the buckles secured, the straps snugly fitting around your crotch and thighs. Your heart leapt when her fingers brushed against your skin as she checked a few of the buckles.

“You’re going to look so good on top of me, darling.” She said.

She sat down on the mattress with you. All you could think of was how desperate you were to touch her. But you forced yourself to be patient, not wanting to interrupt her from the process of getting the dildo in place. She fitted the base of the fake-dick into the O-ring that rested over your crotch, a look of concentration in her eyes.

Once the cock was secured, she looked your body up-and-down and her smile widened. “Fucking perfect.”

The way that she immediately kissed you gave her compliment even more impact, adding to the burning desire that wanted to consume you.

She didn’t let her lips part from yours as she started to readjust. You eagerly moved with her, at first turning your body to face a new direction. Then you were following her up the mattress, keeping in rhythm with her thrilling kisses the whole time.

She pulled herself away from you when she found the spot she wanted. She laid down, resting her head on the pillow as she spread her legs. She opened the lube, a very sweet scent of grapes coming forward as she squeezed some of the product into her hand.

She gestured for you to come closer and you moved into the space between her thighs. She started applying the lubricant to the silicone length while her other hand reached beneath it. Your breath immediately caught when you felt her fingers on your cunt, discovering the moisture already collecting at your entrance.

“You haven’t yet told me the things you want me to address you as.” She pointed out, her fingers lazily dragging back-and-forth along your slit.

“I like everything you’ve said so far. But I think I’d like to be called stuff like naughty thing. I like the encouragements and the good girl’s, but you can be less nice to me, too.” You said. “That would turn me on.”

She licked her lips. “I can do that for you, especially while you’re being so naughty, darling.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as she drew her fingers off of your pussy. You felt the way it pulsed, desperate for attention and scorching hot in your anticipation of more.

She hooked one of her fingers under the belt, lightly tugging on it as she used her other hand to gesture for you to come closer. “Come and fuck me, naughty girl.”

You leaned forward, bracing yourself with a hand on the mattress. Her enchanting eyes left yours as she wrapped a hand around the cock. Positioned on your knees, you eased your body closer to hers as she guided the sex toy toward her cunt.

Her moans were a blessing to your ears as she worked the tip between her folds. She rubbed it up-and-down and you watched the expression on her face change.

Her chest swelled around a deep breath as she began burying the cock into her cunt. She consistently took more of the inches, letting almost all of the length inside. She took her hand off of it so that she could grab your bare ass instead, holding with a firm grip.

“Show Mummy how naughty, nasty, filthy you can be.” She said and she prompted shivers to race through your system as she met your gaze again.

You drove your hips closer to hers, making even more of the dick disappear into her pussy. Just as quickly, you rocked your body weight back. Then you charged forward with more power, gaining confidence in your range of movement.

“That’s good.” She encouraged in a husky whisper.

She arched her back and your wide eyes fell to her tits, with their very-erect nipples. She started to move with you, lifting her hips to meet your every thrust. The two of you slipped into a tempo as easily as when you had been dancing together on stage.

“Cazzo, look at that vein on your arm.” She said, eyeing the bicep that was near her head. “That’s gonna make my mouth water…”

Your concentration wavered, your pumping a little less enthusiastic as you wondered what she was about to do. Would you be able to handle it?

She wrapped a leg around your waist, jutting her hips up at the same time. “Uh-uh, you aren’t going to stop fucking me.” She spanked your ass. “Keep going.” You thrusted again, following through with more movements, but this didn’t stop her from slapping your ass repeatedly. “Yes, keep fucking me.

“Keep fucking me…” She trailed off into a wordless whimper.

This sound became muffled as she pressed her face against your arm. There was some worry present, which made your body tense. But you refused to allow it to freeze, keeping your hips in motion.

She kissed all over your forearm, her lips parting at a point about an inch above your elbow. At first you just felt pressure. Then a sharp sensation arose as her fangs penetrated your skin, the pain radiating out.

You groaned but she was immediately louder. She briefly detached her mouth from your arm, freely moaning. There wasn’t any further discomfort as she went back to your flesh. She began to suck at these puncture marks and you were stunned as you mentally told yourself that you had successfully survived your first bite from her vampire teeth. It was an invigorating accomplishment.

You hadn’t been aware of your vigour slipping. But as soon as she struck your ass, you put all of your focus on how you were rolling your hips again. You made sure she could feel your strength as she continued to suck on your arm.

She returned her head to the pillow with a whimper. “You taste amazing. Your blood is just as beautiful as you.”

You inspected the marks that she had left behind. The two small, red holes shone in the light. Blood oozed out, slowly creating a little trail down your arm.

She got your attention by putting her hand to your cheek, redirecting your gaze away from the injury. “See, it’s nothing to be scared over. You trust Mummy more now, don’t you?”

“Yes Mummy, I do.” You said, making her smile with lips that were darker than before.

“Mm-hm. You can worship my tits to calm yourself down, to walk yourself back from all of that silly fear.” She said.

“Thank you, Mummy.” You replied, eagerly nodding.

You made sure to maintain your rhythm, even as you altered your position, bowing your head down to her heaving chest. Your heart was rushing, thrilled to have a target (and a very appealing one, at that) for your raging desires.

You started off simply, kissing one of her stiff nipples. Seeking her approval, you lifted your eyes up to her face as you let your lips part on the next kiss. She was watching you intently, her hand cradling your cheek. You lolled your tongue out, rubbing it all over her nipple with great appreciation. She appeared pleased, continuing to writhe against you, keeping both of you in this delicious motion.

You moved to the other nipple, sucking it into your mouth. You flicked then rolled your tongue against it, keeping up with your rhythm. Now you were aiming for her g-spot, with every rocking of your hips. You dragged your body against hers, getting lost in the passion.

“Fuck. This is exactly what I needed.” She began to match slaps to your ass with her words. “Exactly what I need-ed��”

Her writhing progressed to her own determined thrusting. She matched your pacing, your bodies crashing together with even more power. Her hands went out to her sides, grabbing at the bed sheets as she continued this effort.

You started to feel her outdoing your energy, fucking herself harder than you were prepared for. Your breath grew shallower as it felt like you were playing catch up. You detached your mouth from her, resting your head on her chest as you tried to recover your breath.

But this was a secondary goal. The main thing you cared about was meeting her power with just as much force. You concentrated on making each rut as strong as possible, it didn’t matter if this exhausted you for any other activity.

She let out a prolonged whimper. “Oh, my naughty thing.”

You couldn’t resume your thorough treatment of her breasts, her sudden repositioning compromised your closeness to her chest. She wrapped both of her legs around you, and at the same time she yanked herself up. This allowed her to move on the cock with shorter strokes while keeping it consistently deep.

You wrapped an arm around her. You shifted your weight to your knees as you settled into this altered momentum. She rested her forehead on your chest and you felt her hot breath on your tits.

She leaned on your arm and the new pressure brought your attention to the wound on your arm.

“Victoria?” You began. “Will the biting turn me into a vampire too?” Her hair fell back from her flushed face as she looked up at you. “Like, a venom in your saliva, or something?”

“No, princess. You have to be dead to be turned.” She said. “And as I said earlier: I’m not a danger to you.”

You nodded as you stared into her eyes, and you believed her. You immediately put the issue out of your mind.

“Can I have another drink? I need to taste more.” She said.

“Yes.” You replied and you were so pleased by the smile this brought to her face.

She was still rutting herself on the cock as she took her mouth to your tits. The bite didn’t come straight away. First, she explored the tops of your breasts with sweet kisses.

The kisses started to linger a little longer, then you were feeling her tongue as she let her lips part.

It was a little less surprising and scary when you felt her teeth breaking your skin this time. The pain seared and demanded your attention as she penetrated your breast at a point that your bra could hide later. You knew this pain wasn’t forever, enduring it with some deep breaths.

She detached for a moment. This was followed by the feeling of just her lips on you, covering this tender area in kisses. She whimpered as she started to suck.

All the while she was still swinging her hips up into you. The motions and the sounds were glorious, registering in your already-aching pussy. You loved being included in the rhythm, thrilled even though you knew this wouldn’t lead to your climax.

“Fuck…” She panted, pulling back a little. You saw the hints of dark red on her lips and it felt dangerous. “I want that taste on my tongue as I come.”

“Yes, Mummy.”

Her rhythm was unrelenting, all of her energy going into chasing her orgasm. You got so caught up in all of her shamelessly erotic sounds that you stopped feeling the pain from your new wound rather quickly. You were fascinated by the way the passion was changing her, noticing every slight change in her facial expression and savouring the ones you had never seen before.

She was experiencing it all so visibly that you thought you would know the exact second that she started to come, it would be so obvious. You wondered what was prompting each reaction. And from there, you could easily imagine what it would be like to experience such pleasure for yourself.

Her face became hidden from you when she concluded her next pump forward by pushing all of herself against you. She rested her head on your shoulder once your chests had come together.

You held her tightly as she proactively bounced in your lap. Her excited whines were muffled by your shoulder, which she was soon bringing pain to. She sank her fangs into the skin, bringing more blood into her mouth.

She sucked ferociously, until some jolts through her body seemed to surprise her. Her multi-tasking skills were somewhat compromised and she just rested her lips on your skin as her hips excitedly stuttered forward. Between whimpers, she licked up more blood. But her focus was clearly set on the reckless tempo of her hips.

Something inside of her snapped and you felt her chest expand against yours, while the rest of her body stilled. Her crazed energy had reached its conclusion. You stopped moving as well, suddenly aware of how short of breath you were.

She gave your shoulder some kisses and licks, before starting to lift her head. Her face was flushed with colour and her smile was even more beautiful now, seeming to sparkle.

She sat up, leaning less of her body weight on you as she draped her arms around your neck. “You really are a naughty thing, huh? The way you just made Mummy go fuckin’ feral like that…”

“I’m really happy I could make you feel so good.” You said as you rubbed your hands up-and-down her back.

“You did.” She said before softly kissing you. “Every single second of it was so good.” She kissed you a few more times and you got hints of the sharp taste of your own blood. “And now you see for yourself that the feeding isn’t a really big deal, right? It helps you trust me more, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” You said as soon as she left a pause for you to answer.

She kissed you, more deeply this time. You sensed that fractions of her energy were coming back as her mouth lingered on yours. The foreign taste of blood hardly affected your enjoyment of this intimate exchange.

“You’re so sexy.” You murmured against her lips. “Getting to see all of that was so beautiful. It’s gonna be a long time before I can stop thinking about it.”

“You really liked it, huh?” She asked and you instantly nodded your head. “Did watching me make you…” She licked her lips and grinned. “...wet?”

You nodded again. “Yes Mummy, so wet.”

“How about we take that toy off of your body and you can show me?” You offered.

She planted one more kiss on your lips before starting to climb out of your lap. She left the toy phallus behind, its surface covered in the slick from her pussy. She helped you remove the harness and tossed it aside without a care. Then she laid down, resting her head on the pillow as she continued to smile at you.

She curled onto her side a little and smoothed out the bedsheets in front of her. “Come and lay with me, pretty girl.”

You laid down in this available space, resting on your back. You could feel your body buzzing with so much energy, lust that needed to be used. Your pussy felt incredibly hot.

She played with your hair a little as she leaned in closer. Her eyes moved to your mouth and you felt your heart flutter. In the next second, she was kissing you and you let it take your breath away. You rushed to keep up with her.

Her tongue eased into your mouth as she started to trail her hand down the front of your body. It felt like you were made of kindling, and it would take just one movement to set everything ablaze. But which movement would that be?

She didn’t hesitate to reach her hand down beneath your waistline, confident in what she was doing as her fingers glided onto your mound. At the same time, she swirled her tongue in your mouth, exploring you with hunger.

Her hand moved lower, cupping your cunt. Against your labia majora, she applied pressure with her fingers. She moved the digits in little waves, an intimate massage. This was matched by the way she rolled her tongue against the roof of your mouth. It was a dreamy combination and you wrapped an arm around her, wanting to keep her so close.

She gradually rubbed her way lower, getting closer to your entrance. Then she extended a finger and went straight for it. Your hand gripped her tighter as she started to move her finger along your slit. Wet noises accompanied her tender stroking up-and-down.

Your heart was properly racing now and you widened the space between your thighs. This was the beginning of something spectacular, and you trusted her to know how to get you to the conclusion.

She added a bit of pressure without actually penetrating yet. You enjoyed the warmth from being worked up like this. Her tempo was so enticing and more blood rapidly flowed into this area.

She drew her tongue back from your mouth. “Princess, my princess…”

She moved her finger a little faster, facing no resistance from your pussy. She gave your lower lip some sucks. As these drew on, you detected a hint of her pointed teeth, moving against your lip. But the wonderful treatment of your pussy dominated your attention and kept you from developing any worries.

She started to kiss her way down from your lips. You heard your shaky breaths, they really weren’t going to help you fill your lungs again. She moved from your face to your throat, slowly appreciating the skin as she went. Her kisses lingered on one particular spot.

Her fingers tensed and began to sink inside. At once you were gripped by conflicting sensations because she was creating new wounds in the side of your throat. The intensity was more than you had been prepared for and it immediately overwhelmed you. You weren’t strong enough to resist it and you couldn’t help getting lost momentarily.

You desperately gasped for air, trying to ride out the pain. A weakness came into your knees as she also accelerated the pleasure, pumping her finger into you.

Your body writhed and you wondered if this was more than you could take. But you pushed yourself into her, craving for all of it to go on.

The pain deflated some as she pulled her fangs out of your flesh. With a moan, she pushed her tongue up to the small holes. Your skin throbbed in response to this pressure. It felt as hot and swollen as your cunt.

Between your inner-walls, she had added another finger. She pumped them at a consistent tempo, prompting desperate whines from you. You tilted your pelvis, letting her move deeper.

She drew the tender spot on your throat into her mouth again, starting to suck. The taste inspired her to drive her fingers harder and you felt your mind go blissfully blank.

She positioned her hand so that every pound of her fingers could end with her palm smacking into your clit. This started quakes through you. You squirmed, the excitement building up to an irreversible level. You were needing the climax, starting to move your hips in accordance to her speed.

She moved away from your neck, repositioning in a way that made your arm slip from around her. Now you grabbed for the pillow to help brace yourself.

You opened your eyes when you felt the bed shifting with her weight. You saw her placing herself over your legs, her eyes fixed on the target of your pussy. You were tingling with anticipation as you got flat on your back, keeping your legs apart.

Your blood was visible on her lips as she settled herself and looked up at you. She put her hands to the tops of your thighs and started to lower her head. She maintained eye contact with you as she applied her tongue to your pussy. She lapped up, moving along your slit.

“Mummy…” You breathed as the swell of pleasure grew even stronger.

She licked again-and-again, pushing a little harder each time. You started to push her hair back from her face, gathering it into your hand so that your view of her wouldn’t be compromised. You were obsessed with what you were saying.

“I’m not even a little surprised that this part of you tastes amazing too.” She said, making you feel slightly bashful.

Next, she returned her wet fingers to your cunt, the two digits swallowed by your quim at once. Your body tensed as she established her rhythm again.

When she attached her mouth to your clitoris, you felt the sensitivities sharply increase. They got a little intimidating as they became all-consuming. Your head fell back to the pillow and your mouth gaped open when she started kissing the hood.

This progressed to her working her tongue in endless circles. You grew even more receptive to the tempo of her fingers and you knew the release was getting closer.

“Ah, Victoria…” You vocalised a choked sob. “That feels so, so good. You- you’re gonna make me cuh-...” The air disappeared from your lungs when she sucked the hood of your clit into her mouth. This increase of the glorious intensity brought strangled, desperate noises from you.

You had no choice but to entirely surrender when she began to curl her fingers. With a few more moments of those fingers jackhammering, she had you crying out louder than ever.

Then you reached your release. It was so grand that you didn’t just see stars, you were seeing explosions. And you felt them, as well.

She separated from you and you let your body go limp on the bed. You were gripped by uncontrollable shudders as the extremes very slowly released their hold on you.

“Pretty girl…” She soothed as you felt her start to stroke your hair. “That was incredible.”

You watched her lay down beside you, your satisfaction was mirrored back to you with the look on her face. She got comfortable and continued playing gently with your hair.

“I can’t believe all of that just happened.” You said. You thought it would be days until this feeling of total awe wore off. “And all because of my stupid sign.”

“Your sign wasn’t stupid, it was sexy. They showed me a pic of it before the show…” She said, and you remembered being approached by a photographer while everyone had been waiting for the concert’s start. They had approached other fans who carried posters, taking photos of more than just your message.

“And it really got my attention, so I told them to make sure you got a wristband for the stage, because I wanted to see what your vibe was like.” She explained.

Your eyes had grown wide and you raised a hand up to your cheek. “Oh my God, I was so close to not bringing it at all.”

“Why?”

“I thought it would be unwanted…” You said.

“You should listen to your gut more, ‘cause look what it got you tonight.” She said. “You shouldn't waste your life denying what you want. Now, are you the big or little spoon?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #happy halloweeeeeeen #HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM THE HALLOQWEEN #maneskin fic #vampire maneskin #vampire victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x y/n #victoria de angelis x you #victoria x reader #victoria de angelis fic #victoria de angelis x reader

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dreamyshape · 6 months ago

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If I may suggest…if it’s alright … Bug and Timmy going on a ‘Kiss the Girl’ style fishing trip? The two goobers dancing around their fondness for each other while Marco and Bodie are secretly trying to get them to at least kiss.

Hrnnng I was supposed to post this on my 16th b-day a week ago but I forgor.

Kiss the Girl (Bug and Timmy oneshot)

“Hey, Bug!” You stop your cleaning and look over at the small gator. “I wanted to know if you wanted to go fishing with me?” You nod, “Let me just finish cleaning up and I’ll be out soon.” Timmy grins, “I’ll help ya so it can be done twice as fast.”

After you two finish cleaning you head outside to Timmy’s boat so y’all can set it up. Timmy double checks to make sure he has everything then carefully pushes the boat into the water. “Alrighty bug, try not to fall into the boat… again.” You sigh and recall the time you nearly crushed the gator. “That was one time, and I had never been on a boat before!” Timmy laughs and holds his hand out for you to steady yourself with. You travel ankle deep into the water before hoisting yourself onto the wood boat, you feel it rock before it settles again. “There we go, and you didn’t crush me this time!” You give his hair a light flick and he huffs playfully. Timmy grabs two paddles from the boat’s floor and brings it to the water’s surface.

“Huh, I didn’t know that Timmy and bug were going on a fishing date.” Marco patted Bodie’s shoulder to get his attention. “It’s about time that boy told them. He always gets flustered when they catch him staring.” The taller gator chuffed. Marco glanced over at Bodie before looking back towards the boat. “Maybe he’ll get the guts to finally tell them. As entertaining as it is to watch him stutter out excuses or trip over his own two feet, it gets infuriating after awhile.” Bodie sighs at Marco before also turning to look out at the boat.

“Alrighty, this looks like as good a spot as any for fishing.” Timmy stops his rowing and pulls the paddles out of the water. The boat gently glides forward on the water before coming to a stop. The smaller gator leans into the floor of the boat and pulls out two fishing rods. “You know how to use one of these, bug?” You nod and he hands the rod off to you. “Let’s cast on different sides of the boat so the lines don’t get tangled.”

“Hey, Marco, you think we should swim out there and play match maker?” Marco turns to Bodie and huffs. “Why would we do that? What if they spot us?” Bodie looks at Marco before taking exaggerated steps toward the water. “Bodie, don’t do it. Bodie!” The bigger gator gives Marco a smirk before silently dipping into the water and speedily swimming off towards the small boat. Marco watched on in horror as Bodie got closer to the blissfully unaware duo perched inside the vessel.

“Hey, Bug, I think I got somethin’!” Timmy hurriedly explains as he pulls on his line. You turn towards him just in time to see him pull the line with enough force that the small bass he caught flies through the air and slams into his face. You can’t help but snort at his stunned face. “Wha- what just happened?” You’re still giggling before settling down, “You okay, Timmy?” The small gator looks at you and nodded. “I’m fine, Bug. Just a little stunned is all. Man that little fish had a lot of power I just wish it didn’t ge-“ Timmy pauses as the boat lightly rocks. “Huh? What was that?” Both of you look around and into the water, trying to see what hit the small vessel’s side. “That must of been a really big catfish. Hey at least it didn’t tip the boat.” (Boss music starts playing) “I feel like something bad is about to happen.” *sounds of splashing and the boat being pushed over* “ACK! What was that?! Bug, you alright!?” You pop out from under the water and attempt to swim to Timmy. “Yep, are you sure that was a cat fish?” The gator pauses. “It must have been a really big catfish…?” You sigh before looking back at the capsized boat, wondering how you two were going to get it back upright. “Maybe if we take different sides we can get this thing back upright. You pull and I’ll push?” Timmy woes at his eyes before nodding. “Sounds like an easy plan.” Paddling to the other side of the boat you begin lifting as Timmy grabs hold of a lose board and pulls. It takes a minute before you both get the boat stable and back the way it’s supposed to be. “Finally! Hold on, bug. I’ll lift you up.” Before Timmy swims over to your side, you feel something tickle your calf and you instinctually kick at it. Your foot makes contact with hard scales and you nearly scream but keep your composure. “Alrighty, hold onto my shoulders and I’ll try to throw you up.” Timmy states as he prepares to hoist you up. “Ready? Go!” *thunk* “T I M M Y.” “oop- sorry, Bug. Didn’t mean to throw you onto the floor.”

“You proud of yourself? Not only did you flip the boat but you got horse kicked in the stomach” Marco sighed as Bodie clutched his gut. “Whoopsie…?”

“Well this trips been a bust. Not only did we not catch anything but we got soaked!” Timmy huffed before pausing. “Well not entirely a bust. We got to spend some time together and the boat flippin’ was kinda funny.” You looked up and giggled, noticing a small lily pad clung to his ear. You reach out and grab it. “Huh…? Bug, what was that for?” You hold out the small flora for him to see before chucking it back into the water. You look up at the gator and realize he’s flushed. “I-I didn’t even feel that on me.” You both stop talking as the boat lightly hits the muddy floor of the stream and comes to a stop near the shore. You carefully step out of the boat before holding a hand out for Timmy. He looks up at your face then at your hand before firmly grabbing ahold of your outstretched palm. Pulling him up he looks down at his clothes and sighs. “What are we gonna tell Bodie…?”

#asmr roleplay #gator boys #obsidian lantern #asmr #asmr rp #mage bunkshelf #capitalmaudios #the bug army

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ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Candyland

Rockstar! (ish) Eddie Munson x AFAB! Bar Dancer Reader

Cherry Pie is always the inspiration for some absolute filth. Reader works at a Coyote Ugly type bar - you'll find out, it's hard for me to describe this one. Because I suck.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, suggestive content with the dancing?

The R-Bar, Chicago - 1991

Eddie is sweating his nutsack off, fingers red raw from shredding for almost two hours, voice sore and crackling. The mediocre applause that follows him off the small stage with the rest of the band hardly seems worth the pain. He snags a water bottle from a beat up trestle table, chugging it in relief as their manager Lambshank approaches; so named because he got shanked in prison with a lamb bone, true story.

“That was a killer set guys, great work, the crowd loved you!” He hails with so much bravado it verges on sarcasm.

“Yeah, all fourteen of them.” Eddie deadpans.

“I counted seventeen.” Jeff wryly supplies with a rough croak, finishing off his own bottle of water.

“Alright, it wasn’t the biggest crowd, granted, but everyone has to start somewhere.” Lambshank reasons.

“Yeah, but we started this group eleven years ago, Shank.” Eddie huffs, he knew the rockstar dream wouldn’t be an easy one to achieve but he thought after graduating and being able to pour all his time and what little money he had into the band they’d be playing bigger and better venues by now.

He was fed up, every place was like The Hideout back home, filled with drunks, and sticky floors. They did have a couple of genuine fans, who they appreciated even if they were slightly over-zealous in their affections; Gareth had never quite been the same since Luann, the forty-seven year old divorcee, threw her FF bra directly at his face mid-show.

“You fellas need a fun night out, get yourselves pumped up again and I know just the place.” Lambshank says bracingly, working his fists back and forth like a Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robot. Eddie scrubs at his tired sweaty face, pushing his hair out of his eyes, wanting nothing more than to shower and go to bed, god he was getting old.

“Shank I don’t need a night out, I need to get some sleep.”

“Eddie, I promise you, you’ll enjoy it - and the first round of drinks are on me.” Shank offers teasingly.

_______________________________________________

“Candyland?” Gareth asks, reading the pink neon sign aloud as they all stand outside a rather nondescript looking building, the loud heavy bass thumping of music the only indicator there might be something going on inside.

“Candyland.” Lambshank affirms with a grin, gesturing towards the heavy door in front of them, a burly and surly looking doorman giving Lambshank a curt nod letting the group in.

It’s a cacophony of noise, and flashing lights, the place is packed to the rafters, the smell of stale beer and sweat heavy in the air. But it’s the movement from the bar area that catches Eddie’s eye, a group of women all around his age in various states of undress, dancing and grinding along to No Sleep Till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys, they also appear to be serving drinks.

“Welcome to Candyland boys!” Lambshank laughs, patting Eddie heavily on the back.

It’s certainly a show, the girls are laughing and screaming things out, men and women on the floor crowded up to the raised surface cheering loudly, throwing money, and generally having the time of their lives.

The song finishes up, and the bar girls all jump down to be replaced by an older looking blonde woman with a microphone in her hand.

“Candyland, how are we doing tonight?!” She yells, to a deafening cheer. “C’mon I know you can do better than that, I said HOW ARE WE DOING TONIGHT?” She corrals with a fist to the air.

The bar shouts back in unison, even Eddie finds himself wanting to join in.

“That’s what I like to hear.” She laughs throatily. “Now I want you to give it up, and by that I mean your hard earned dollars, for our girl JETT!”

I Love Rock ‘N Roll - Joan Jett starts up, along with a raucous cheer from the crowd as girl jumps up onto the bar in black PVC booty shorts, a ripped white crop top, black bra visible underneath and black high-top converse, her back is to everyone as she claps her hands and stamps along to the beat, Eddie tears his eyes away trying to work out the best route to the bar in order to actually get a drink when Gareth starts tugging hard on his arm.

“Jeez man what?” Eddie huffs in irritation, Gareth points dumbly back towards the bar, mouth hanging open, Eddie looks again and feels his own jaw drop.

“Holy shit it’s -” Jeff breathes, the girl is finally facing the crowd, throwing her body back and forth, a huge smile plastered across her pretty face.

“Y/n -” Eddie finishes his sentence with a gulp.

Eddie hadn’t seen you since graduation, but it was definitely you, despite your get up and apparent new found sense of confidence there was no mistaking your face. You had been something of a shrinking violet at High School, choosing to hang out with Eddie and the gang as they didn’t mind that you were painfully shy and preferred books to conversation, and whilst you had never been a fully fledged member of Hellfire you sometimes took part in the occasional campaign if they were short and Eddie coaxed you enough.

It didn’t seem you needed to be coaxed into doing anything anymore though as you gyrated on the platform, hooking your leg and arm around a pole between the bar top and ceiling, spinning about seductively. You headbang slightly, before dropping low to grab a handful of dollars from a howling man, one of the girls behind the bar passes you up a bottle of vodka and you expertly pour a shot into the man’s open mouth. As the song fades out, some of the other girls jump back up to join you, the vodka bottle in your hand being swapped for the microphone.

“Good evening Candyland.” You purr slightly out of breath, laughing loudly at the tumultuous response. “Life is sweet, but you know what? It could be a little sweeter, so how about we pour a little sugar on you?” You ask suggestively, throwing your arms up as Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard rings out.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look, well he knows exactly where he wants to look but he doesn’t know if he should. You’re back to back with one of the other girls, both winding down to your knees, you crawl across the bar and Eddie finds himself standing tiptoes to follow your progress. You lay on your back, arching upwards, so your chest is on display, while a redhead girl in Daisy dukes wets your body with the seltzer tap. You screech wildly, shaking your head allowing the liquid to splash the front row, Eddie thinks he might pass out as the blood thunders down from his brain to his cock.

You move back up into a kneel, taking the tap and spraying it into the raucous crowd, whilst necking a beer you’ve taken off of someone. You and the rest of the girls line up, all bending sideways so you’re grabbing the ass of the other, spanking in time to the music, before shaking your legs so the muscles bounce and jiggle.

“This is insane.” Gareth says weakly next to Eddie, and he has to agree. You straighten up, spinning around the pole once again until you’re head on staring at Eddie and the group, a wide beaming smile of recognition breaking across your face. You seem to be dancing with even more enthusiasm now you’ve clocked your old school friends, hands running over your own form, as you strut up and down the platform. The redhead from before has a bottle of whiskey in her hand which she pours on her chest with a subtle nod to you, you lean in and lick the gold liquid from her skin, to rapturous hoots and hollers, tracing your tongue up her neck until you meet her mouth; Eddie notices more dollar bills clutched in your hands as you pull away.

The song comes to an end, and you instantly jump down into the crowd, pushing patrons out of your way, practically racing towards the band.

“OH MY GOD, HI!” You shout excitedly, barrelling straight into Eddie first, he barely has time to snap out of his funk and embrace you back before you're pulling away to address the others. You’re flushed with exertion, but to him you’ve never looked prettier.

“Gareth, Jeff!” You hail, bringing each of them in for their own hug, Eddie having to fight down a sudden surge of jealousy.

“Y/n! What the hell man?!” Gareth greets you with a laugh, gesturing to the hive of activity still taking place on the bar behind you.

“Girl’s gotta make a living, ya know.” You tease, punching him lightly in the arm. “It’s my Aunt’s place, she’s the blonde one up there.” You point to the older woman who revved up the crowd earlier, she’s currently pouring a row of shots, but all the while keeping an eye on her girls, including you.

“What are you guys doing here?” You ask casually, like you’re not standing in front of them scantily clad, and the source of their awkward crotch covered stances.

“We’re on tour.” Jeff supplies.

“Holy shit - that’s so cool, where are you playing?” Eddie wants to answer you, but your devastating smile is making his brain short circuit.

“They played the R-Bar tonight. Lambshank, manager extraordinaire and long time patron of Candyland.” Lambshank butts in, offering his hand in greeting, you shake it and Eddie sees a slight wariness enter your expression.

“The R-Bar huh? I’d thought with how good you guys were in High School, you’d be playing bigger venues than that.” You don't say it maliciously, you seem genuinely concerned, and it sparks Eddie's brain and mouth back to life.

“We’ve been trying to but it’s not been going so well.” Eddie says quietly, and you nod in understanding.

“Where are you guys playing next?” You ask with interest.

“We’re at the R-Bar again tomorrow night.” Gareth says, unable to keep the dismay out of his voice.

“Ok, cool, leave it with me. Drinks on the house by the way, just go see my aunt. Catch up properly at close?” You ask quickly, already backing up towards the bar, slipping under the gap and whispering in your aunt's ear as you service the clamouring groups.

Eddie's gaze is firmly fixed on your retreating form, he always had a soft spot for you through school, ok maybe crush was more accurate, although he'd play it off as a brotherly protective vibe when people had asked but what he was feeling now was far from brotherly.

"I'll get us some beers." He says not caring if the others are listening, purposely ignoring Lambshank's request for a double JD, as he makes his way through the thronging horde, with a little elbowing he eventually gets to the front.

“What can I get you handsome?” Your aunt asks him, leaning across the bar.

“Uh - four Coors Dry please.” He responds absentmindedly watching the way you’re shaking a drink at the other end of the bar, clearly flirting with every customer and doing a damn good judging by your overflowing tip jar.

“Would you prefer for my niece to serve you?” Your aunt says with a wry smile.

“Oh - uh - no sorry, just haven't seen her in a while.” Eddie stammers, slipping across a $20 bill.

“You’re Eddie right?” He nods, she smiles and it’s not too dissimilar to your own. “I'm Paula. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. She never used to shut up about you when she was a teenager, Eddie this, Eddie that.” She laughs, pouring the beers.

“She liked me?” Eddie asks in shock, the thought makes his head spin.

“I don’t think you need to put it in the past tense hunny.” Paula grins, sliding his $20 back across the bar. “You break her heart, I’ll get Doug the Doorman to break your fingers.”

Before Eddie can respond, your voice cuts across the noise once more, you’re up on the bar again, microphone in hand.

“Alright Candylanders, it’s come to our attention that we have some very, very special guests here with us tonight -” The seductive lilt in your tone is back, commanding the attention of everyone in the room, but none more so than Eddie. “- all the way from my hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, they are the next generation of rockstars, the one, the only CORRODED COFFIN!” You bellow pointing towards where Gareth, Jeff and Lambshank are still standing.

“They’re the real deal, and they’re playing at the R-Bar tomorrow, I know - I know it's a fucking shithole." You argue back to the murmured complaints. "But here's the deal, you all go and I will reveal my very secret, very intimate tattoo at the end of their show -” You teasingly pull at the waistline of your booty shorts, before stroking your hand down over your covered mound, the crowd going wild. “- Alright you bunch of horn dogs, save it for tomorrow, now let’s get this fucking party started!” You scream, throwing the microphone down to Paula, who gives you a huge wink.

Cherry Pie - Warrant blares out of the speakers, the girls clambering up to join you once more, pitchers of water in their hands.

“ANYONE ELSE FEELING WET?” Paula shouts into the mic, as you and the rest of the girls pour the pitchers over yourselves, Eddie watches completely enthralled as the water cascades over your chest and down your legs, barely noticing how Gareth and Jeff have joined him.

You stomp over towards them, a huge smile on your face again, dropping into an impressive front split, water droplets glistening over your flushed skin.

“Hey Eddie, you want a blowjob?” You ask loudly over the music.

“Do I want a what?!” Eddie asks incredulously, half laughing, half choking on his beer.

You jump down, grabbing a shot glass, and two bottles of liquor, topping it off with some whipped cream.

“A blow job.” You present to him with a devious smirk.

Eddie throws his head back in a proper laugh, the kind of laugh you used to savour hearing through school, he moves to take the shot but you slap his hand anyway.

“Oh that’s not for you big boy, it’s for me. You need to sit right here.” You say patting the bar top, Eddie looks at you warily but hoists himself up regardless with a smile, you wink and then move to the other end of the bar, whispering something to Paula as you pass.

“Ohhhhh! Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like Jett is about to give some lucky guy a blowjob!” Paula shouts through the mic, stopping mid pour to ring a bell, Eddie’s ears hurt from the wolf whistles and stamping of feet.

Two girls, the redhead and a brunette, help get him in the correct position, legs spread with the shot in between, you get lifted onto the bar by Doug blowing a kiss to him and the gathered crowd. Sinking to your knees you stalk towards him in a slow crawl, he would never be able to listen to Smooth up in ya in the same way ever again. When you reach him, you lean in close to his ear so only he can hear you, his arm automatically coming up to steady you as you hover.

“When I touch your knee, put your hand on the back of my head, and when I touch it again let go.”

You move back, grinning from ear to ear, running your hands over his chest, down and down, fingers brushing his thighs, until you reach his knees; Eddie lifts a shaking a hand to run through your hair at the crown of your head, you wink again before arching low, ass in the air, he can see your lips wrap around the glass; he knows you must notice his raging hard on.

“SHOT, SHOT, SHOT!” The bar screams and Eddie suddenly remembers there are a hundred people watching your antics. Once you have the drink secure, you run your hands back up his legs, tapping his knee once, he lets his hand drop from your head albeit reluctantly. You throw your whole body back, chest jutting out, swallowing the shot to ear splitting cheers and clapping, letting a carefully choreographed bit of liquid spill from the side of your mouth, using your thumb to seductively chase it back to your mouth with a firm suck.

You press a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips, before standing abruptly, taking a bow.

“Can I get one of those? Please?” Gareth asks, voice strained.

_______________________________________________

The rest of the night passes in a blur of girls dancing, pounding music and alcohol but Eddie only has eyes for you. Even when Gareth gets his ‘blowjob’ from the redhead, Cherry, you’re still his focus, the way you move, how openly you laugh with the girls sharing private jokes, the way you handle yourself; fearless and so sexy.

The bar finally closes at 2am, it’s oddly quiet now the sound system is off, only the chink of glasses being collected and general chit-shit fills the air. Lambshank is chewing Paula’s ear off about management opportunities, which she seems to be responding to with good humour. Gareth is following Cherry about like a lost puppy, helping her with clearing tables, and Jeff is asleep in one of the booths, a cocktail umbrella tucked behind his ear.

You’re wiping down the bar top, a shy smile on your face, the one Eddie remembered from school, it seems the shrinking violet is still there once the music is off.

“So Eddie Munson the rockstar huh?” You say, voice a little croaky from a night of shouting and singing.

“I wouldn’t say rockstar.” Eddie murmurs, sipping at his drink.

“Is the band your only job?” You ask pointedly, spraying at a stubborn sticky spot.

“Yeah.” Eddie says, rubbing at his neck feeling self conscious.

“Well then, you’re a rockstar.” You grin softly.

“Alright ladies, you can all head home, Mr Shank here is going to help me finish up.” Paula calls, meeting your raised eyebrows with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders.

Eddie watches as Gareth attempts to rouse Jeff from his deep drunken stupor, wondering if he can manage to get him back to the hotel by himself, not quite ready to leave your side, evidently you are thinking along the same lines as you place a delicate hand on his arm.

“Shall we help get the guys back to your hotel?” You suggest gently, trying not to laugh as Jeff sinks lower into the seat trying to pull Gareth in for a spooning.

“You want to come back with me?” Eddie asks, surprised, not believing his luck.

“Yes, if that’s ok.” You say blushing profusely. “Unless you don’t want me to.” You add quickly feeling unsure of yourself.

“No! - I uh, I mean I would love for you to come back with me.” Eddie stammers, his face burning likely matching the same reddened shade as your own.

“Ok, just lemme go get changed.” You smile breathlessly.

The hotel isn’t far from the bar, and the thirty minute walk allows you and Eddie to catch up some more, sharing lingering looks and touches where you can, in between half carrying, half dragging Jeff. Gareth being absolutely no help, floating along behind slowly, waxing lyrical about how he is in love with Cherry.

“Should I tell him she’s a lesbian?” You whisper to Eddie, stifling a giggle.

“Let him have his moment whilst he’s still hammered.” Eddie laughs. “I’ll break it to him in the morning, assuming he remembers.”

Your head is swimming with all kinds of Eddie related thoughts as you try your best to concentrate on the task at hand, helping Gareth into bed, he passes out as soon as his face hits the mattress in the double room. Eddie situates a now entirely unconscious Jeff with some difficulty, before making sure they both have glasses of water and Tylenol on the bedside table ready for their no doubt horrendous hangovers.

You’re bubbling with nerves as he closes the door, but they abruptly disappear when he takes your hand, leading you down the corridor to his own room. It's small and basic but at least it’s clean.

“So - uh do you want a drink?” Eddie asks, rooting about in a plastic bag on the side. “I have slightly warm Coke or slightly warm Mountain Dew.”

“Such variety! I’ll take a slightly warm Mountain Dew please.” You laugh, perching on the end of his bed, rubbing your hands over your leggings.

“For Madame.” He passes you a can with a silly little French accent, sitting next to you with a can of Coke. “Gotta say it was one hell of a show you put on tonight sweetheart.”

You’re blushing again, shaking your head in embarrassed disagreement.

“It’s nothing special, just silly little dances and tricks, but it pays the bills, and it helps Paula out.” You say dismissively.

“I think it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Eddie mutters, his leg jiggling with nerves or pent up energy, you couldn’t tell.

“C’mon Eddie, it wasn’t that good.” You mumble, thinking if your cheeks got any warmer the sprinkler system would go off.

“When you did that thing with the shot, I nearly came in my pants.” He says honestly, laughing at his own admission, it sparks something within you, the same feeling of fearlessness you experience when you’re up on the bar. You stand up, taking his drink from his hand and placing it on the windowsill with yours, kicking off your shoes and pulling down your leggings so you’re left in your panties and pink Candyland sweater.

“It would be a waste if you came in your pants Eddie, when my mouth is right here.” You whisper, sinking to your knees in front of him, praying you hadn’t misread the signals.

Eddie doesn’t give you long to worry, grabbing your face in his hands, leaning down to kiss you hard, tongue stroking into your mouth making you moan softly.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie murmurs against your lips as you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips to help you tug his pants and boxers down. His cock slaps against his belly, long and hard, making your mouth water, you wrap your lips around him eagerly, tongue flat against the shaft as you bob up and down.

“Oh - f-fuck.” Eddie groans, hands back in your hair just like at the bar, gently guiding your movements. The room is filled with the sounds of your choking and sucking, the wet slide of your mouth over his throbbing dick, and Eddie’s whimpering gasps.

“Yes! Oh baby, your mouth feels - shit - so fucking good. Used to dream about you - fuck - used to dream about you doing t-this.” He moans, hips pistoning up to meet your open throat as you move quicker. “Can I - ah! Can I fuck you? Please sweetheart?” He begs, and it sends a surge or arousal through you.

You pull off him with a broken gasp, lips swollen and wet.

“Yes please.” You say sweetly, slightly out of breath.

Eddie’s hands are everywhere as he hauls you up from the floor, peeling your panties down, fingers tracing through your wetness whilst he kisses you deeply again.

“Condom - where the fuck did I put the fucking condoms?!” He hisses, stretching back down to retrieve his pants, you laugh peppering his neck with licks and nips.

You’re practically dripping, hovering over his cock, waiting with baited breath as he rolls the condom on, angling the hard tip to your slick opening. Both of you letting out loud moans as you sink down inch by inch, walls hugging him tightly, spasming with the stretch.

“Eddie - oh my god!” You whimper, nails biting into his shoulder, rocking against each other, his balls hitting your ass.

“Yesss, you feel like fucking heaven.” Eddie growls, using his strength to hammer up into you, both knowing the other wasn’t going to last long, the entire evening serving as foreplay. You bring your fingers down to rub roughly at your clit, whining into his mouth through messy kisses, each thrust of his cock bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Eddie, babe, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, pussy tightening almost to the point of pain, vision going blurry as you climax hard.

“Oh god - baby! Fuck -” Eddie chokes out, arms holding you in a bruising grasp, head against your neck as he jerks his hips at a brutal pace, hurtling into his own release with a loud cry.

Eddie continues to pump gently into you, drawing out your orgasms, lazy kisses, and stroking touches bringing you back down.

“Goddamn, why didn’t we do this years ago?” He asks breathlessly, as you laugh with exhilaration, he lays back on the bed pulling you with him, thundering heartbeats steadily slowing.

“Y/n?” Eddie asks quietly after a time, fingers stroking up and down your thighs.

“Mmm?” You murmur sleepily.

“I know I was a little distracted back there, but - uh - I didn’t see any kind of tattoo.”

You laugh again, pushing off the bed, rummaging through your bag, throwing a small packet at Eddie.

“Candy cigarettes?” He queries in confusion.

“Yep, with a free Batman rub-on tattoo.” You grin, jumping back onto the bed straddling him once more, shoving one of the candy sticks into your mouth.

“Those are a filthy habit, sweetheart.” Eddie teases grinning widely up at you.

“Care to do the honours?” You smirk devilishly, waving the temporary tattoo at him.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson 18+#strangers things eddie munson #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfic

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evilfloralfoolery · 9 months ago

Text

Along Came Fire - Avery/Blair, Pt. 2

A lot more snz and misery in this lol. Avery showing her true colors. Blair being unbearably into it. Both of them wondering about the other. Plz enjoy my hasty edit! :)

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By the time the heaters in the stadium get the memo, the set is over and Blair has had just about enough of this frigid bullshit.

He’d managed to fend off whatever fuckery his sinuses were concocting during the performance, but now, it’s gotten to the point where no amount of shallow breathing and nose rubbing will do the trick. His body has just had enough of him.

And the feeling is fucking mutual.

Blair cringes against his knuckled fingers with a flash of teeth. "HhhRISSCH! –RIIHHHSSCHuh! EKTSSCH! UhhhCHHSSSH!" He pauses, breath a hitching, ragged heave. "Hhh–RIISSSCCHHiiiuuhh!"

"What, you're not going to try for an even six?”

He stops with the miserable, wet sniffling and glances over his shoulder.

It's her. Just standing there with a laminate around her neck, like she belongs there. No idea where she’d gotten the pass, but he’s not going to ask questions, especially not with the way she’s looking at him right now. Kind of like how the Blond Wonder looked at him, but with a more curious sort of concern rather than outright, overly empathetic gawking.

Hard not to stare back at that mane of hers with all the red, orange, and yellow competing for space, a vibrant cascade of fire that has the nerve to call itself “hair.”

“Hey.” She waves a hand in front of his face with a bit of a laugh. “Are you okay in there?”

He offers her a slow blink in tandem with the realization that he has said nothing to indicate an answer.

“I am,” he says. “Just too damn cold.” One eyebrow arches high. “Are you?”

She tilts her head. “Cold?”

“Okay,” he clarifies.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.” She combs her hair away from her face with one hand and laughs. "I’m pretty sure I left puncture wounds on that idiot, so there’s that."

Probably. He hadn't missed how aggressive she'd been. Kind of a firecracker for such a slender chick.

Hot.

"Yeah, well. Guys are assholes." He offers her a smirk. "But I'm a bigger asshole."

"Good quality, if you ask me." Her smile is a sly mirror of his own.

“Damn straight.” He tugs at the knot on his bandana out of habit. “Avery, right?”

“Yep.” She pokes him in the chest with one finger. “You didn’t tell me you were the bass player.”

Cue the smartass eyebrow arch. “You didn’t ask.”

“I don't usually introduce myself and then be like, ‘so, do you play the bass?’ ”

“Why not. Good conversation starter.”

She flicks a piece of his hair with a pop of her fingers. “You're weird.”

He’ll take that.

But what he’s not going to take is any more shit from his sinuses. Sort of. Goddamn it.

She does the curious, cocked head thing again at his abrupt change of energy and asks the obvious question. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’ssss uuhhh-hhhheh!” He holds up a hand to politely silence furthering questioning, breath catching in his throat with a choppy attempt to draw in enough air. "Heeh-hh. . . Hh'RISSSCHU! Hkg–CHISSSHUHH! Fuck." He rubs at his nose with a sniffle. "Hhngh, sorry. The cold fucks me up."

"I can tell," she says as he sneezes again with twice the force and less control.

Goddamn it.

"God bless," she says in this voice that's somewhere between concerned and a bit. . . something else.

Interesting . . .

"Stick around and you'll get sick of saying that real fast," he says.

She laughs, but doesn't refute him. She does, however, close the distance between them unexpectedly. "Hold on." A hand reaches up to adjust the apparently lopsided bandana tied around his head. "You're about to sneeze this off."

"Heh, thanks." He fiddles with the knot on the thing and tightens it. "Wouldn't be the first time." He regards her with a slow, assessing tilt of his head. “Feel like sticking around?”

Her eyes are the lightest shade of honey gold he’s ever seen. And to think she asked him about contacts.

“Sure,” she says. “You might need someone to fix that bandana again.” A faint hint of super white and slightly pointed teeth peek from behind her lips, which is so absurdly attractive to him, he shoves a hand in his pocket to keep it to himself.

But that still leaves him with one. Which he holds out to her.

It only takes her a second to decide to fork over her fingers, which slide into the width of his palm like something delicate and precious. Compared to Blair, most people are on the smaller side, but while Avery is tall, she's particularly slender of frame, a fact that is emphasized by the tight black pants and matching bodysuit with strategically placed fabric slashes she’d chosen for the gig. It highlighted the fuck out of her multi-colored hair. Like autumn leaves in a jeweled pit fire.

“Hungry?” he asks as he leads her down the rowdy expanse of the corridor where musicians and techs alike are loudly congratulating themselves over the success of the show.

“I could eat something,” she says.

So could he.

______________________________________

The booth is a semicircle, not one of those across the table deals. And she sits close to him, so close that her leg presses against his thigh.

He's not sure what he's done to elicit that kind of contact, but he wants more. So, he does the cheesy movie thing and drapes an arm across her shoulders, casually at first, but when she willingly curls closer against his side, he ups his game with an upper arm squeeze.

Damn, she smells good. Like spring rain and oleander.

"Are you still cold?"

He nuzzles her thick hair. "Not as much."

Mainly because she's a fucking furnace, like a personal space heater. No complaints from him.

Well, except for the goddamn prickling the "defrost" is causing in his sinuses. No, dammit. He's not unwinding his arm from her lithe body.

He unrolls the napkin-wrapped silverware and snaps the thing open, but doesn't quite make it.

"HhhRISSCH! ISSCCHUH!" His lip curls away from his teeth in a snarl of irritation and he clamps the napkin over his mouth and nose. "AahhRISSCHuh! IKGSSSH-U!" He sniffles and dabs at his nose with a hint of a smirk. "Hnnnh, sorry I'm so goddamn sexy."

She laughs in a high, almost tittering way that is reminiscent of something he can't quite place, but he likes it.

"I think I can handle you." She hooks a piece of his hair that escaped his bandana behind one ear. "God bless."

Her breath tickles his ear and coaxes the hair on his arms to stark attention.

"Hmn, thanks." His voice drops to a lower, darker version of itself. "You want a steak?"

"Sure," she says. "Purrs" is a better word. "I like meat."

The way she says that is hotter than it has any right to be.

"Yeah?" He rubs at his nose with the back of his hand. "How do you like your meat?"

Her lips brush the line of his jaw with scantist touch. "Extra rare."

Okay, fuck it.

He shifts his body just enough to slide a hand into her hair and leans in close, pausing just shy of capturing that mischievous mouth of hers. Makes her wait for it. Teases her with a faint exchange of breath. But when the tip of her tongue darts out to just barely flick his lower lip, he’s over it.

And damn, can she kiss. It’s electricity and fire, the slow, smoldering promise of something far more urgent, but deftly restrained. His body finally gets the message and switches on the heat until his skin is feverishly hot. Sharp nails dig into his shoulders just enough to make temporary, pointed crescents in the flesh and he sits back against the vinyl seat as the kiss recedes, the faintest wisp of smoke curling from his lips.

“Goddamn.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment and he exhales a breath from the depths of his chest, as if he’d been holding it for hours.

Nails drag down his forearm in a light, affectionate scratch. “Been a while?”

“Oh yeah,” he says.

A long fucking while.

__________________________________________________________

The seated dinner had turned into “fuck an hour wait, room service is better” and man, had he made the right choice.

The idiots in the kitchen had forgotten the steak knives and rather than ask some underpaid kid to go seventeen floors down to get a couple, Blair and his “date” had opted for the more barbaric option.

Just pick the shit up and eat it.

Now, watching Avery snack on that rare slab of meat was hotter than any porno could ever be. There is something primal about the way she takes small, but efficient bites of the steak, the way she sort of tears off a chunk and licks her fingers afterwards. And when he doesn't eat the entirety of his own steak, she finishes it for him.

Where the hell had she put it all? The woman is a slender wisp of a person.

If that’s what she actually is.

It's the same thing with Caspian. A flash of something wild. That “otherness.” He’s seen it before. Plenty of times.

“I don’t usually do this, you know,” she is saying as she licks the last of the blood and juices from between her fingers.

“And what’s that?”

She flashes him her super pearly whites. “Eat meat with strange men.”

He chuckles and it morphs into a bit of a cough, reminding him that the surge of heat between them earlier hadn’t been enough of a catalyst to jumpstart his body into actually doing anything about his damn "illness."

Her expression morphs from playful to concerned and she sets the plate on the nightstand. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” He wipes at the edges of his nose with a clean napkin and winces. “Still too goddamn cold, I guess.”

That fucking nose ring. Not like he could just take the bastard out without some pliers. Special ones.

Avery moves closer, but he holds up a hand to stop her progress, his breath hitching in ragged, uneven catches.

“Hhheh—! RISSSCCH–UHH! ISSCCHHU! Mother. Fucker.” He growls to himself and drops the napkin in favor of the box of tissues that she’s now offering him.

Fuck it, he’s taking the whole box.

“Thanks,” he says in a tone that is way more grumbling grouchiness than he means it to be.

But she’s obviously not put off by that because she’s suddenly right beside him, her hand on his thigh, even though he’s gross as hell whilst taking care of his dripping sinuses.

“Sorry,” he says with a sigh. “Was hoping this shit would just let up or fuck off.”

“Stop apologizing.” She rolls her eyes a little and he’s reminded of the same exasperation Caspian uses for Miami, which is more than a touch amusing. “I’m not worried about your cold or whatever it is.” She tosses all of that flaming hair over one shoulder. “I like a guy that can be a hot mess and own it.”

Blair laughs. “Jackpot, then.”

“You can lie down, you know.” She pats the top of his free hand. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you’re tired.”

After tossing the tissues into the trash, he slips her fingers into his palm and scratches his thumbnails over her knuckle. “Mmn, I’m not that tired.”

She leans in for a kiss and he affords her the opportunity with eager reception. Doesn't stop her when she presses herself against him again. In fact, he pretty much pulls her into his lap and she’s happy to be there, given the way she’s kicked off her boots and settled in.

“I’m not contagious,” he says.

Her hands slide over his chest and clutch the fabric of his shirt. “Wouldn’t care if you were.”

“Want me to take this off?” He tugs at the edge of his shirt.

“No,” she says. “I want to take it off.”

If his eyebrow arched any higher, it would disappear into his hairline. “Okay.” He leans back against the bed frame and lets go of her hips. “All yours.”

(TBC...)

#Eff writes #Avery and Blair #This is where I stopped writing last time #But I've already written most of a part three lol #You'll find out a lot about these two in that part #Some things will suddenly make sense #And some absolutely won't #OOOOO AAAAHHH A MYSSSTTERRRRYYY #Have I mentioned how great it is to be fucking WRITING again??#Now to compose some music for these two #I'm on FIRE!#LOL pun fully intended #I AM a fire sign after all

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