#must be nice to be confident in your standing with people
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what are you supposed to do when the thing you want also happens to be a thing that has a high chance of kicking off a major spiral of self-loathing? and it’s something that’s apparently kind of necessary to be a fully actualized human being???
#what i want: friends. community. as most of us do i’d wager#(it’s not all i want but like…..it’s what i’m talking about)#but i don’t really have any of that#and i know the way to change that is to not isolate and be among other people#but then i’m exposed to other people who generally clearly…belong#seeing other people wanted by those around them when you don’t feel like you belong is uh…….#it’s fuckin painful lmao#and inevitably it kicks off those thoughts of ‘what the hell is wrong with me that i cant do that?’#but isolation (or near isolation i suppose) isn’t the actual answer because that just… that just reinforces it all right#but i’ve lost my ability to socialize and i don’t have anyone or anywhere to practice because if i fuck up in the practice#….idk. i cant to afford to fuck up#all those posts about being annoying is inevitable. it’s human. those who matter wont mind etc#all well and good.#must be nice to be confident in your standing with people#cant afford that myself but you do you i guess#it’s easy to take that kind of risk when you know you’ll be loved no matter what i’m sure#whatever. had another point i wanted to hit but got lost on the way#isolation is safe and the way to go. community is overrated. until it isnt#but it doesnt matter if youre not wanted. yknow?#community only exists with reciprocation#and maybe i’m generalizing like hell when i’m like ‘well *nobody* would wanna connect with me’#and i’m just fulfilling this shit myself when i don’t even try#but. like. why would i be wrong here? evidence suggests i’m not worth knowing#and i have nothing to give#so…. yeah#to the void with love
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#Bought a cute lil dress#Wore it and showed it to my fam#Sister and dad absolutely gobsmacked; horrified about the thigh hair situation#Realising that the most pent up people on the planet for being weird about body hair are none but south Asians ourselves#Listen I will regret shaving thighs for months after if I do it— it’s the worst it’s the prickliest#Anyway so long story short we will not be wearing a cute lil dress to convocation#We will be wearing something longer that passes the internal review a bit more smoothly#One’s got to wonder at some point how much Indian beauty standards affect whether I feel dysphoric#I feel like I’m constantly wresting the definition of a woman back from these people—#I will be a girl on my terms!! My definition of girl is what I am! I can have body hair! I can have stocky legs!#I can have marks and blemishes and not look like a Ponds Beauty Cream ad poster! Fucking hell#And then the minute I gain any confidence in it; I feel like people are trying to wrest it back:#No! If you’re wearing girly dresses you’ve got to do it the Girl way! You’ve got to shave your legs; girls don’t have hair!#You should wear some cute little heels; you’ll look so nice and like a proper girl with a bit more length on your legs—#Even if they don’t *directly* say that I know what they mean.#You’re wearing a dress; stand straight; suck your tummy in! You’re not matching the poster definition of a girl#How to be a girl on your terms is a constant battle over the definition of yourself within a word that the world doesn’t agree with you on#And I say this as a cis girl; imagine how bad it must be for anyone else…#I’m the first. My dad was a house of 3 brothers. He didn’t know how to raise a girl. So he raised a boy.#Now he wants the boy to suddenly know how to be a girl. How to inhabit an unfamiliarity feminine role. Something I do not know how to do#I try and to make it my own. I don’t know how to. I’m failing at something I was never equipped to do#And we wonder why I can sometimes feel dysphoric as hell. Like I don’t belong in this word.#Idk I think it’s going to be long dress. I’m kinda bummed I didn’t just get to go full butch-style and wear a smart shirt and trousers
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Seeing ghosts in Gotham
He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.
His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.
Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.
Red Robin.
Danny shakes his head and turns around.
“Nope.”
A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.
He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.
Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.
“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”
“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.
He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.
“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.
“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”
Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.
“Do you not get what anonymous means?”
“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.
“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.
“You’re a runaway.”
Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.
“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”
Danny sneers in annoyance.
“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”
“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”
Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.
“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”
“Then what do you want?”
“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.
Red Robin pauses.
“Our time,” he repeats calmly.
“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”
“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.
“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”
Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.
“His name?”
Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.
Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?
“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.
Silence for a few moments, then-
“As in Gregory Boothe?”
The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.
Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.
“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”
Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.
“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”
Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.
Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.
“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.
Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.
“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.
“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”
Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.
“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.
Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.
“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”
Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.
“So… Greg?”
“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”
The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.
“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”
Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.
“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.
Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.
“Hey, Susan, can you go-“
The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.
“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”
The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.
They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.
He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.
At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?
He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.
It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.
Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.
“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.
There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.
“No.”
The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.
“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”
Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.
“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”
Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.
“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.
Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”
The vigilante doesn’t respond.
Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.
“Are these all files of victims?”
Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.
“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”
“There should be more.”
Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.
“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.
Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.
“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”
What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”
“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.
“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”
“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.
“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”
Danny frowns.
“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”
“You could be sixteen.”
No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.
“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.
“We want to help,” Red says too easily.
Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.
Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.
“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.
“We want to help-“
“You want me in your back pocket.”
Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.
Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.
Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.
“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.
It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.
Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.
Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.
It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.
“I know.”
…
“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”
Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#danny phantom#batman#tim drake#damian wayne#red robin#dc robin#story ideas#Danny sees ghosts#it’s his way of helping#medium#homeless#runaway#batburger
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would you do a james fainting fic 🙏🙏
—James doesn’t like you, but he’ll come to your rescue. fem, 1.5k The office is hot.
James dabs at his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Remus rubbing his eye.
“You okay?” he asks.
You look up from the paper on your desk. When you realise he isn’t asking you, you look away, your lips pressing into a tight line. James tries not to show he’s noticed.
“Fine,” Remus mutters. “Fucked off ‘cos of the portal changing again. I hate these long passwords.”
“Are you hot or is it just me?”
You clear your throat. Usually, unless it’s Remus who’s spoken first or James has said something you find ridiculous, you won’t interrupt. “I’m really warm,” you say, “do you think I can open the window?”
“Like you can reach it, shorts. I’ll do it.” James jumps up from his seat. Whether you’re short or not has nothing to do with it. James is taller, and he holds it against you diligently.
He rounds your desks. The sun is worse on his skin than the heat alone. He can’t imagine how awful you must feel to have it on the side of your neck all day; in the half minute he stands there opening the window, the heat makes him queasy.
He tugs the blinds down enough to shield you. It’ll help the entire office, he thinks. Not just you. If you thought he was doing something nice you’d only interrogate his motives until you both turned irate, and that’s the last thing anyone needs today.
James isn’t sure how you and he ended up not liking one another. He’s never met anybody he didn’t like that wasn’t a massive wanker, and you are but you’re not, not really. When you first started he’d actually thought you were cute, and funny, if a little quiet. It didn’t matter because James is used to quiet people. But one thing turned to another, he’d used your mug without washing it, you’d left him off of the department emails for the quarter, then the snipping started. Constant nitpicking and bickering. You make it too easy, and so what if he likes how you look when you’re mad? It doesn’t hurt anybody to put your mug in the stockroom and your lunch on a different shelf. If anything, he’s keeping you vigilant.
You don’t look vigilant. You don’t say anything as James sits back down, even though he hits his knee for the hundredth time on his desk. You usually love it. Sometimes when you’re tired he does it on purpose to give you a reason to keep going till 4:30.
“Are you okay?” James asks finally, eyeing your face. “You look funnier than usual.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” He should stop being mean. You look like you’re gonna pass out.
Remus peeks over his computer screen. “You don’t look well,” he says.
“I’m fine.” You roll your seat back.
James pushes back at the same time. “Wait a second–”
You’re standing before James can stop you, but he stands up anyways, and he takes your elbow into his hand though he shouldn’t. You give him the most peculiar look, almost like you’re enjoying his touch, just for those two seconds, before your chin dips down and your eyes squeeze closed, and all of you goes slack.
James grabs you at the precipice of a bad fall.
You’re still as a doll in his hands. He leans back with a quick sigh, his arm curling over the small of your back and upward. Your legs aren’t holding your weight, and you begin to slip.
James could keep you up, he doesn’t go to the gym for nothing, but Remus rushes to his aid and pushes your chair back, helping him set you down on the floor. “What do we do?” Remus asks urgently.
James puts his hand behind your head. You’re slack. When he touches your face, your skin is as hot as the heart of a furnace.
“Can you get some water?” he asks Remus.
James is peculiarly calm. He knows you’re just hot, it’s not uncommon for people to faint in high temperatures, and he’s honestly confident in his ability to look after you. It’s very sad to see you unwell, of course, and his heart is beating fast as he takes in your slack mouth.
“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cupping your cheek gently. He gives your face a little shake, reluctant to be rough with you while you’re vulnerable, even if some force would help. “Hey, can you hear me? You’re okay, can you open your eyes?”
Nothing. He leans down a touch to listen for your breath, and it’s fine, if a tad fast.
Remus comes back with a cup of water and Sirius, which is predictable but not super helpful. “Jesus,” Sirius says. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“She’ll die of embarrassment,” Remus says.
“She’s coming around,” James says, patting your cheek, thrilled when your eyelashes twitch. “I think we should go into the break room, is it empty? We can sit her on the sofa.”
“You don’t think we should do something a bit more drastic?” Sirius asks.
James feels rather defensive of you. Remus is right, you would die of embarrassment if they called an ambulance, and he’s sure you’re fine. You have to be fine. “She just fainted, it’s so hot in here. Go open a window in the break room and we’ll wait for her to come around.”
Sirius glares playfully at being told what to do, but he goes, and Remus kneels down beside James with a cup of water. Someone from the front of the office asks if you’re alright, but James misses what they’re saying as you let out a whine.
All of a sudden, his attention is fully yours.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
Your eyes open slowly, lashes heavy like they’re thick with honey. You take in a deep, deep breath through your nose, and you blink, and you turn into his hand where it’s holding your cheek with all the familiarity of a lover. “James,” you mumble.
His stomach aches. He ignores it. “You okay? Can you look at me properly? I need to make sure you’re fine.”
“I’m fine,” you say, face pressed to his hand.
“Just look at me. Just for a second.”
You pull yourself with clear annoyance from his hand and open your eyes properly. He can pinpoint the moment you realise who he is, how you're touching, and he can’t explain the pang he gets when you rush up and away from his touch. “Oh, fuck,” you mumble, dropping your head, your fingers to your forehead and your thumb covering your eyes.
“Hey, don’t move around so much.” He continues to be soft. You might have realised who it is that’s trying to look after you, and you might not want him to, but he’ll be damned if he lets your bickering stop him from making sure you’re as okay as he’d claimed to everyone else. “Are you okay?”
“Did I…”
“You fainted. Don’t worry, I caught you. Take it easy, okay? Have this.”
He presses the cup of water into your hand.
Somewhere behind him, Remus has moved away, and is seemingly fending off the masses of people coming to offer assistance.
You see them looking at you behind him and cover your face.
James shuffles forward quickly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let anyone see you. I’m saving this embarrassment all for myself. Please drink your water.”
“Did everybody see me fall?”
“They saw us engaged in a loving cwtch. It was very romantic.”
You sip your water. In truth, you don’t look much better for passing out, and James can’t get the feeling of your face out of his hand. He wants to touch you again, his fingers hesitating an inch from your knee.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says. “You don’t control the weather. Do you?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“Then why are you sorry? It was alright. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We just want to make sure you’re okay. Sirius wanted to call an ambulance,” —you visibly baulk— “and I told him no, don’t worry. Then all the attention would be on you, and not me for my valiant rescue.”
“Was I heavy?” you ask, your mumbling nearly friendly.
“I can bench press two twenty.”
“That… doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“You’re nothing I couldn’t handle, shortcake. Do you think you can stand up? I’ll take you into the break room. You can lay down on the sofa.”
You make a soft sound James won’t soon forget and put your hand out for his help. He doesn’t have to force you. You don’t have to ask. He helps you stand and keeps an arm behind your back, shielding you from the worried and curious gazes of your coworkers.
You press your cheek to his chest.
Remus looks at you both like you’ve been body-snatched, but it’s too late to wuss out now.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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PAC: ♡ Why are you special for your future spouse? ♡
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
Pile 1
Cards: Knight of Cups, Empress, 6 of Wands, 3 of Wands, Ace of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, The Fool.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. You are special to your future spouse because you are very adventurous and thrill seeking. You are very jolly, happy go lucky and fun to be around. There's also this part of you which your spouse finds amazing that you don't take things to your heart, you don't get affected by unnecessary bs, but it does not mean that you're not serious. They like how you are a go-getter, extrovert and very driven by your ambitions. You get what you want because you know how to take it. You could also be someone who is famous and popular for their work/career. They might get a bit jealous of this sometimes, that so many people have their eyes on you and that they desire you. It's not toxic, it's just that they love you so much that sometimes they become insecure. They love to go on trips with you, roam around the world. You might be very direct and assertive in your approach. They love how you flirt without even knowing. You might be a bit bossy and dominating but they like that. You know how to take a stand for yourself as well as your spouse. You could even punch somebody in the face if they cross your limits. Your dressing style could be very trendy or fashionable, very vibrant even and they like that. You dress up very boldly, your confidence and larger than life personality gets reflected in your dressing style. You could even wear nice bright or dark lipstick, your make up is on point. There's something so magnetic and bold about your personality even if you're a woman reading this pile, you might come off as having more masculine qualities, or I must say very bold feminine quality. If you're a man, you might be very masculine/sigma male personality and your spouse loves that.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
Pile 2
Cards: 4 of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, The Devil, 10 of Wands, Knight of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. Your spouse loves how stable and secure you are. You have this way of protecting your loved ones. A happy and financially stable home is all you desire and strive hard for. You are slow and steady but you never rest until you reach your desired goal. You believe in working hard. They like how your heart is so kind and giving. You have a lot of compassion for the unfortunate. You might even do a lot of charity, give alms to the needy, donations, etc.. They love how you're married to your work but that does not make you compromise with your responsibilities at home. You never run away from your responsibilities, infact you might even do other people's work for them, taking more burden on your shoulders, your spouse might worry about your health due to this even if you take a lot of care of your health. They love how you keep your workspace and home always clean and clutter-free. You are a person of high values and good morals and you believe that respect is always earned and not demanded. Your spouse respects you a lot. They like how you always weigh your words before speaking, you don't just blabber anything that comes to your mind. They are also very sure that you would be a great parent and you would instil the same values as yours in your children too. They love your groundedness and practicality. Your beauty has this grace and elegance which they can't help but steal glimpses of, especially when you're looking away. You might wear nude/soft make up which enhances your beauty even more. They believe you look beautiful even without makeup. Your body might be beautifully curvy and your spouse likes that a lot. If you are a male reading this pile, you might have broad shoulders and a very nicely maintained physique.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
Pile 3
Cards: 10 of Swords, Wheel of Fortune, Strength, Hierophant, 8 of Swords, 7 of Cups, High Priestess.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. Your spouse thinks you're special because they have received this privilege to be your knight in shining armor. It's not like they're required to save you from your problems. It's just that their role is very important in your life because they come after a huge tower moment in your life(when you come out of a very bad situation). You come off as indecisive and you might have self-limiting beliefs too because of your hardships but they don't judge you because of this. They are coming as a blessing, as a breath of fresh air in your life and they'll also help you heal a lot. They are not here to take advantage of you just because you look vulnerable and helpless to them. They are with you because they see that spark/optimism in you, a desire to live better. They are not here to take from you even though you have a lot to give. You might believe in miracles, you could be religious or spiritual too. You will be beginning a new life with them. One thing is very prominent here, that you look confused and vulnerable to others because of your trauma but in reality, you might be very self aware, intuitive and observant. Your spouse might prefer you as proper husband/wife material. You might not like to wear make-up everyday and you wear it mostly on special occasions only. You might have a beautiful smile but maybe you don't smile much. Your dressing style is also very simple and your spouse admires it very much. Last but not the least, I won't like my audience to have false hope or see through rose colored glasses, if you relate with this pile's message, then I would like to add that, wanting to heal and learning your lesson from your past is of utmost importance, because if you don't, then your intuition, observation skills, self-awareness won't do you any good, you'll look vulnerable to people and they will take advantage of you and the past will keep repeating itself in various different forms. You'll have to make sure that you stand for yourself and create healthy boundaries, then only 'green flag' people will enter into your life.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
Pile 4
Cards: 4 of Pentacles, Emperor, 2 of Cups, The Moon, Justice Rev. clarified by Ace of Swords, 9 of Pentacles.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Your spouse loves how you are so introverted most of the times, very self-aware and self-made. You've come so far on your own. You appear as though you don't talk much but when you get comfortable with someone, you never shut up. You might be very reserved and have very few friends. You might be a hopeless romantic and you might be very serious as far as relationships are concerned. You don't like to play mind games when it comes to relationships. You protect your belongings and loved ones with all your heart. Your spouse loves your simplicity. There is something very particular about your speech. You may have a beautiful voice(it could be your talking or singing voice) or the way you speak really stands out. You may not appear as though you'd speak your heart and mind effortlessly, but you do and they're amazed by it. You're someone for whom home and family values a lot. You have a lot of eccentricity too. The way you walk or the way you talk really stands out to people. You might love to wear a lot of unique or weird accessories and they find it so cool. Your dressing style could be a mix of modern and traditional. You might even look mysterious to your spouse as if you're hiding something or having a lot of secrets but they will find it intriguing and try to solve the mystery you are. You might have good intuition and strong gut feelings, pile 4. Many a times, you're right about a particular upcoming situation or people's true intentions. You're very caring and nurturing too. Your beauty is hard to define, very extra-ordinary. There is one specific thing here, that I'd love to mention, you not only speak your mind but you also speak openly about your past mistakes, guilt and wrong decisions made by you. Without bothering about what others might think of you, you go on speaking fearlessly about your downfalls and bad deeds. See, you're not a brat who just speaks of their mistakes loud in the open and doesn't care about them, instead you're someone who accepts your mistakes. You know you made a mess and so you speak about it because you accept it and you don't want others to fall into the same trap or make similar mistakes. Your spouse loves this so much about you. There is so much balance in your relationship.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
Pile 5
Cards: Hermit, King of Cups, King of Swords, Temperance, Magician, Judgement, 5 of Pentacles.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. You spouse loves how you're so balanced. You are a nice blend of emotions and intellect. It could be that you look emotional but you're intellectual and smart too or vice versa. They didn't see this coming when they first met you but when they started to know you, they realised you have many layers to you, everyday there's something new they get to learn about you and they find this very exciting. You're also very stable and you know the value of money and a stable home life because maybe you never got this. You might be very creative and you might have a fair sense of justice and judgement. You might not be religious. Your mindset, your approach towards life might have been majorly moulded by your past bad experiences. It can be so, that your way of seeing things has improved or changed a lot, and people find it very shocking to see such a huge transformation in you. You highly value your peace of mind and you walk away from people who don't value your time and energy. Your spouse will find it very applaudable too. That's why there could be a huge contrast in your personality which I had mentioned in the beginning. A proper balance. Every person you've met might have contrasting opinions about you, somebody will say that you're shy while somebody else might say you're not. You could be an ambivert, pile 5. You're someone who does their own thing. You might wear whatever you like, you don't have a fix structure of things and you don't like others telling you what to do and what not to. Your spouse really appreciates this. You might be very kind and helpful too. I can say that you value the light so much after dealing with the dark and your spouse finds themselves lucky to have you in their life.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
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#astrology#divination#spiritualgrowth#spirituality#tarot divination#tarot pick a card#pick a card#tarot pac#pick a pile#tarot asks
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So I wrote a little something loosely based on this post I made about Eddie subconsciously associating his future wedding as being with Buck- I haven't written for ages but I thought if I was gonna make it into a fic I'd also have an accidental drunk confession to Buck in there- and this is that. If I ever wrote a whole fic of this there'd be no cheating so dw dw
"It must be nice," Buck says from the floor, "Marr-Marriaging, -having a wedding. I want that, I'd want-"
"I know what you want," Eddie laughs confidently from the empty tub. It feels very zen, lying here with his legs hooked over the circular tub, like lying inside a big cereal bowl. He is so drunk, and giddy and totally at peace with everything, "You want a spring wedding because you want a frankly ridiculous amount of flowers. You want it far enough away from the city that you can see the stars at night, but not so far that it'd cost too much for everyone to travel there. You like the idea of releasing lanterns but you're worried about the environment so you'd probably want - like- doves or butterflies instead-"
"Butterflies," Buck says from the floor, his voice thick, "Eddie, what-"
"M'not finished," Eddie continues with the gravitas of someone so hammered they cant feel their legs but who is nevertheless making an Important Point, "Butterflies, then. You want a light coloured suit, something that breathes well because you'll worry about sweating. Bobby would be doing the ceremony, so maybe Athena to walk you down the aisle? And of course Maddie as your best man. Woman. Person."
"… Maddie?"
"Well yeah," Eddie shrugs, transfixed by how the ceiling seems to be slowly tilting to the side, "Because Chris would be mine, and that way they can both be involved."
There's a frantic shuffling noise from the floor, and Buck's voice is much clearer when he speaks again, "Eddie. Eddie are you talking about- me and you getting married?"
"Who else?" And in his alcohol-soaked state, it's as simple as that- who else. God knows he's tried to fit other people into that role and they just never fit right because the void in his life is so decisively Buck-shaped. Haha, God knows, his chest begins to shake with silent laughter, it's funny, right? Because of the Catholicism.
"And that's-" Buck sounds kind of upset, which makes Eddie pause, why would Buck be upset when there's good booze and the ceiling is tilting and they're getting married? "That's something you want- the-the spring wedding and the butterflies and the-"
Oh, Buck's simply misunderstood, that's easy.
"I just wanna be the guy standing next to you."
#911 abc#buddie#ficlet#buddie ficlet#eddie diaz#evan buckley#Cherry writes#I haven't written in forever be nice to me#hopefully this is okay#i wrote this real quick#put it under a readmore bc it was longer than I realised
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Romance Clichés With: Leona Kingscholar
Cliché: Misplaced Jealousy
Others: Azul ; Vil ; Kalim ; Idia
it's gonna be a little series where each of them gets a cliché!
For days now, Leona had been simmering. He’d never admit to caring about something so trivial, but that simmer was rapidly reaching a boil, one muttered “Savanaclaw guy” at a time. Because you—his supposed close friend, the only person he could actually stand around here—had developed some grand crush on… someone. Someone you kept bringing up. Some unknown, nameless, faceless moron in Savanaclaw.
And you just wouldn’t shut up about him.
Leona had been sitting through your monologues, listening to you talk about how strong and loyal and amazing this guy was, and it had started as a minor annoyance. But as you kept going, he realized something deeply frustrating—maybe even painful.
That after everything, you had gone and chosen some other Savanaclaw idiot over him. And it stung, more than he’d ever want to admit, to hear you talking about anyone like this.
But today was the breaking point.
You were lounging in his den, casually chatting with him between classes. As usual, the conversation took a familiar turn, and you sighed dramatically. “I mean, I guess it’s just… this guy, he’s just… I don’t know. He’s got this strength that’s so impressive, and he always knows how to take charge. Like, he doesn’t even need to try, you know? It’s like he was born to lead.” You didn’t notice Leona’s eyes darken or the way his fingers clenched into fists.
“Just the way he’s so confident,” you continued, “he’s got this whole ‘I don’t care about anything’ vibe that’s really charming in a weird way. It’s like he’s always one step ahead of everyone, even when he’s—”
Leona cut you off with a harsh scoff. “Right. Real inspiring. Sounds like a real prize,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “And I bet he doesn’t even realize how perfect he is, right?”
“Exactly! He’s the type who’s always underestimated,” you continued, oblivious to the thunderous look on Leona’s face. “But if people would just give him a chance, they’d see all his best qualities. He’s fierce, but he’s got this heart of gold underneath it all. People just don’t get him.”
“Oh, don’t they?” Leona’s voice was low and strained, a bitter edge cutting through his usual drawl. “Must be nice to be so adored by someone.”
“Hey,” you said, “don’t say it like that. He doesn’t even know I like him. I don’t even know if he’d ever see me like that.” You let out a wistful sigh that was like a slap to his face.
Leona’s patience finally snapped. “Unbelievable,” he snarled, standing up so fast that you jumped. “You’re completely clueless.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Clueless? Leona, what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you,” he bit out, eyes blazing. “You’re here—wasting your time on someone who probably doesn’t even care about you while you throw yourself at him like some kind of fool. I mean, what’s it gonna take for you to get it?”
You were stunned into silence, and he kept going, frustration pouring out in a way that you’d never seen before. “After everything, you go and pick someone else?” His voice cracked a little, and it made your heart ache. “I thought maybe… maybe if there was anyone here you’d choose, it would be me.”
Your mouth opened, then closed. You were utterly bewildered. “Leona… what are you talking about? It has always been you.”
He blinked, staring at you, completely thrown. “What?”
You took a step closer to him, speaking slowly, trying to get through his thick skull. “Leona, all that stuff I’ve been saying—every time I was talking about this person I liked, I was talking about you.”
Leona looked like he’d been hit by a lightning bolt. His mouth fell open slightly, and he was struggling to catch up, his usual composure completely shattered. “Wait… you’re serious?”
“Yes! Why else would I even talk about Savanaclaw so much?” You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “You were the one who kept assuming it was someone else.”
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you saw a raw vulnerability in his eyes that he usually kept hidden. “All this time… I really thought you’d gone and chosen some other guy,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “Thought at least you’d pick me.”
The way he said it made your heart break a little. He looked almost small, like the thought of not being chosen had left him gutted in a way he couldn’t fully hide. You reached out, gently taking his hand. “Leona, it’s always been you. You’re the one I’ve been drawn to from the start.”
A surge of relief softened his features, and he gave a quiet, almost disbelieving chuckle. His usual swagger returned, just a bit, as he held your hand tighter. “Well,” he murmured, his gaze becoming intense, “then what’re you waiting for?”
You didn’t waste another second. You closed the space between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was long overdue. He responded immediately, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer. The kiss was fierce, almost possessive, and when he finally broke away, he was wearing a smug, satisfied grin.
“About damn time,” he murmured against your lips, though there was a warmth in his voice that softened the usual sharpness. He looked down at you, his fingers grazing your cheek with an unexpected tenderness. “Next time, just skip all the theatrics and tell me, alright?”
You laughed, leaning into his touch. “I thought I was being obvious.”
“Obvious?” He huffed, rolling his eyes with a faint smile. “Trust me, you’re terrible at ‘obvious.’”
But as he gazed at you, that smirk melted into something genuine, something that showed how deeply he cared. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… you’re really mine, then?”
You nodded, and he let out a pleased sigh, holding you even tighter. “Good,” he said, his voice low and possessive, like he was finally claiming what was his. “Now let’s ditch these losers. We don’t need anyone else, just us.”
You smiled, resting your head on his chest as his hand gently stroked your back. “Fine by me,” you murmured, happiness bubbling up as you pressed small kisses along his jawline, making him chuckle.
For once, Leona didn’t have any sharp retorts, no scowls or walls to put up. He just held you, his heart finally at ease, the weight of his doubts and insecurities melting away as he finally let himself be happy.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#twst leona#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x you#leona
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⨳ kinktober file 02 — victims of love, a. donaldson.
summary — you will simply not tolarate losing.
warnings — 18+ mdni, rivals to lovers, fem!reader, tension, filthy mouth, praise kink, whiny&pathetic!art, choking, pet names, p in v, masturbation, mentions of spit, blood and injuries (reader falls during a match and Art takes care of it, nothing wild), dumbification (art calls reader a loser multiple times).
side notes — this takes place before Tashi’s knee accident, it’s not important to know but whatever, english is not my first language thanks to the greater power of the universe, so any mistakes, let them be, i’m not sorry, also, like my previous file, dividers by @cafekitsune! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next kinktober file! been thinking about doing a kinktober masterlist so it’s easier for you my pretty people to look up and read whatever you want. Requests are still open at the moment!
Fuck being a loser.
Even when the tournament is a friendly one. Stanford always do that shit, this thing to bring students together and forces everyone to participate, yet, when you find out who you’re compiting with, it’s pretty obvious you’re going for the throat, not caring if the word “friendly” is in name as there was a medal and 150$ on game.
Yes. You are competitive by heart, it’s part of your genetics now that you’re deep into this tennis world you never wanted to be a part of, Tashi made you sign up and suddenly, suddenly you take it very seriously.
You win the first match, the second, and when it comes down to the final one, you find out it’s none other than Art Donaldson the one who’s on the other side of the tennis court, bouncing the yellow ball until he’s confident enough make the first move.
By the end you’re sweaty. Visible drips of sweat even when you’re standing on the other side, running to match his stregth and game. You wanted to be pro, enjoy the luxury of a relaxed life whose only meaning is to win plays, and to finally be that, you need to beat everyone, man or woman alike as it’s not a matter of sex, but rather talent.
It does not matter if it’s a friendly tournament, it does not matter about the masses saying you’re good, it’s about the fact that you won, that you beat Art Donaldson out of all people. Tashi is a wild ride yes, she makes you work for it when you two are against each other, run to every side, get tired. Art is tension.
Competition.
There’s nothing friendly about the way he’s looking at you, like he’s not dripping in sweat like you are, making those filthy sounds he makes each time he uses force to hit the ball, enough effort on it to make him tired, utterly tired.
So when he won, your knee is already bleeding, shaking his hand in nothing but hatred as he gives you this confident smile he uses to flirt sometimes. You hate it, every second of it, hate the fact that you lose against Tashi’s friend (who you’re sure she must have fucked before cause how there’s so much unresolved tension there?) and how he’s looking at you like he just crushed you in every sense of the word, even enjoyed it while doing it so.
“Good match,” he says when everyone’s looking at your interaction with him, but you don’t say a word. Art chuckles cause he knows people like you, people who need to prove themselves over and over again. “You did a good job.”
You don’t need praising even when it does things to you. You remain professional as you shake his hand, a fast and tight shake before taking the second place. Second.
What you don’t expect is to be in that party later. The music’s loud and people are celebrating something you’re not much aware of, yet the third place greets you with the tequila as you arrive, a bronze medal on his chest as the strong, burning taste goes down your throat before you caught him out the corner of your eye.
Art Donaldson.
He loves praising so much he cannot help it when people stop and say something nice about him: A good little tournament he won? It’s not something he’s going to be proud of his life forever, but it’s enough to make him enjoy the comments about his talent as the day goes through, the medium-sized gold medal still on his neck as he walks like he owns the place. 150$ dollars richer.
Fucker.
Everything seems to be against you: Sororities aren’t your thing but you’re there, the tournament went to shit, Art was literally haunting you.
You think about leaving. You live in a small residence where everyone knows each other, so big spaces filled with as much students as they can possibly fit is not a exactly a plan for you in a friday night, not when you like to stay indoors— But Tashi’s there, your friends are there, and man, you just need to have a good time after the disaster of a day.
So instead, you shove down a shot or two. And when you’re invited to smoke some grass outside, you don’t doubt it, even when Tashi says something about training tomorrow before disappearing, you're sat in a small circle, not caring about your friend’s words as you forgot about the pressure and simply smoke oblivious to everything — Even to Art's gaze.
Fuck being pro. You were doing okay in physics, maybe you should stick to that.
So while you’re drowning in misery, Art just looks at you with a beer in the hand. You picked his interest right at the end of the game: Tashi's friend, new blood, and a fresh face after a whole semester of knowing the same people — It’s safe to say he's drawn to you like he has been with everything he liked during his life. So yeah, he caught himself staring, going back to his memories and the imprinted scene on his brain of the match you two shared before like it was something intimate everyone in the public saw, the dripping sweat falling off your skin as you throw yourself to the floor caughting the small ball when you don't care about your physical well-being anymore.
He can see the wounds on your knee still, the scraps of dry blood as you smoked weed. He knows you're abusing, abusing your limits, testing how far you can go after a hell of a mach, and Art's usually pinning after Tashi at that point, desperate to sabotage Patrick, yet that night specifically he finds himself in trouble until that very moment, that very moment that everything seemed to change all of a sudden.
Truth is Art don't know you very much. He knows Tashi got a female friend she happens to like, a breathe of fresh air as she would describe you, that you play tennis sometimes, but more than that? He's totally clueless even about your name.
It’s just,— God. He loves girls that can put him in his place. It happened with Tashi before driving him crazy with need, and it has happened now in a lame tennis court with you out of all sudden. He thinks about that look you gave him, the tension of the competition, about the fact that even when you saw him, you choose to ignore him, the silver medal you received before well hidden in the back pockets of your shorts instead of proudly display it on your chest like the thrid place did.
You’re no second place. It’s very clear.
He likes your ego, that cocky face you got when someone mentioned the match, dismissing your second place like it was nothing; and Art just stares, even when people notice he’s looking at you, he doesn’t care about being evident as he scans each and every one of your actions.
Shit, he’s been staring a long time. Your friends notice when they tell you about the cute strawberry blonde that’s been checking you out the whole night, but you, knowing who he is, just know that he’s only doing it for teasing, to make your blood boil like he did in the match.
No one’s breaking the nice bubble you made though, laughing, dancing until you’re dizzy and you need to tell one of your girls that you’re going to the bathroom real quick, plan that usual, goes incredibly catastrophic.
The door is locked and you stand outside knocking a couple of times, cursing at the time it took the person inside to get out. And it’s all very cliché when you think about it hours later, cause when the door opens and you’re so rushed, so high already, you don’t happen to notice who you’re running into.
Either way you crash into him when he comes out. Art, Art, Art fucking Art. You’re half way drunk as you would say, and he’s dead sober as he prevents you from falling, grabbing you by the arm as you lose balance.
“Careful,” he would say before noticing it’s you—. “Having trouble to keep on your feet, second place? you okay?”
The nickname stirs something in you. Boiling rage mostly as you quickly stand on your feet again, regaining the balance you lost.
“Thanks. Watch where you’re going,” you quickly reply, rolling your eyes to the back of your head—. “Gotta be careful. People are not kind as me.”
“Kind? You sure about that?” he laughs softly, looking down at you. Fucking rat. Is he mocking you? “Don’t think you were kind to me. You were nothing but the opposite.”
“Were you expecting a pat on the back and a kiss on the cheek?” you asked furrowing your brows in response, an attitude that only appears cause you lack of shame, driven by liquid courage.
“Well for starters, that could be nice” he admits, and you now understand how it ended like it was going at the moment, how he prevented you from getting into the bathroom as he puts his hand right in front of you, blocking the way inside. “Maybe a good job would do.”
You sober up really fast after that, impossible not to.
“How’s your knee?” he asks after the silence, and you notice how he’s leaning towards you, hand on the wall as he points out the wound you didn’t take care of before, too mad to disinfect it as you ignore the pain after the match: Nothing hurts more than a bruised ego. “Did you go to the infirmary?”
“It’s only a bruise, m’okay” you say, looking at your kneecap as well, the dried blood that’s still on your skin—. “Can I go in or what?”
He’s pretty confident in himself, it seems like it (or maybe it’s because he has a gold medal with a number #1 on it), yet he’s grabbing you by the waist, pushing you inside the bathroom as he closes the door behind him with the help of his foot, helping you sit on top of the sink as he looks out for the first aid kit in a bathroom that’s not his.
And you, weird enough, forget why you’re there in the first place. That you were feeling strangely dizzy, that you were going to the bathroom to stare at the mirror and wash your face to sober up, even drunk for a moment as he presses a clean towel dipped in alcohol, a weird silence as you leg tweak against the sudden pain, a reflex you cannot control.
“Do you always get so mad when you don’t get what you want?” he asks, distracting you from the burning sensation as he takes care of the wound in your kneecap—. “Never met someone that could get so passionate about a friendly tournament.”
“No,” you admit, looking at his hands. Even when the blood is dried it still hurts. His touch is gentle, warm against your skin as he touches only what he needs to be touched, keeping his left hand on your tight as he prevents you from moving involuntarily. “Don’t lose often.”
“That so?” he asks, tilting his head slightly backwards, giving you this smile as if he has a huge secret about you only he knew, like you two share confidence now that you’ve shared five minutes in a bath away from the noise. “How long you’ve been playing anyway? Haven’t see you around.”
“A while,” you find his curiosity annoying, yet you’ve been rude enough so you don’t say much, not when he’s helping you—. “Didn’t take it very serious until this semester.”
He hums. Art likes that. The fact that your brain works for something else rather than the competition, that you could talk about the fucking weather if you like and not another match, so he takes in the information in, standing between your parted legs, incredible close.
“And you’re winning don’t you?” he asks curiously. “Hoping to go pro.”
“Well, I think we all want that in the end, don’t you think?”
He doesn’t respond, not with words exactly, but he leans over the bathroom sink, body barely touching yours as he grabs the red thread hanging on the back pocket of your shorts, the one he knows it’s there cause he’s been looking at it the entire night, and you need help cause your breathing hitches on your throat for a moment: Art’s touch is soft, equal as it was when he was taking care of your wound, his fingers sliding in the back as he grabs the silver medal of the second place between his fingers.
How, the hell he smells so damn good? Since you heard he was participating in the tournament you were eager to beat him and reduce him to ashes, but now, you find yourself sniffing on his scent as he fills your nostrils with a sweet smell much like vanilla, clean.
“You should wear your medal,” the blonde says, placing it over your head—. “Let people know you’re good in what you’re doing.”
“I don’t want people to cheer over a second place,” you admit looking at the silver with disgust, too proud to let it slide. “That’s mediocre.”
He seems to thing about it for a second: “Mediocre huh? Would you be happy if we switched medals then, second place?” he asks, looking down at your face. He’s too comfortable now that you didn't pushed him away, caging you in the sink as he places a hand on each side of your legs, his weight now against the spacious marble counter—. “Is that what you want? I’ll tell everyone you beat me if that’s going to make you happy.”
“No,” Why are you even nervous? You scold yourself in your mind a couple of times, he’s looking at you with those fucking puppy eyes, glistening under the white lights of the bath as he looks at you almost pleading—. “Cause that’s not true. You won.”
“Don’t really care. I just want to put a smile on your face,” Art replies, and god, it’s getting damn hard to think at that point cause his fingers are tracing invisible patters on the sides of your legs, stupidly close as he scans your face, no shame, nothing but a pure act of lust. “Don’t want you to be mad a me, second place. Would not want us to start off on the wrong foot.”
Whatever he’s doing? It’s working. Cause when he’s taking the gold medal out of his neck to put it in yours, exchanging the silver one you hated so much with his gold? You’re sure you’re making it all up in your head.
“There,” the athlete smiles almost proud as his knuckles brushes against your chest—. “Looks better around your neck anyways.”
He caughts you off-guard. You’re no longer high, drunk, or whatever excess you’ve been through the night, and you simply dig it, a lot to be honest with yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you lose the tournament, that you’re somehow vulnerable thanks to your ego being bruised so much, but you let it happen, let his fingers grab the skin of your tight again like its their original place cause you want him to do it, to experience his touch.
“Nobody’s going to believe me,” you blurt out, nervous enough to act like you’re normal about it, about his warm skin seeking yours—. “They all saw you win. You played good.”
“You really think that?” he’s dizzy on that cocky confidence, that boost your words give him as he smiles, his right hand caressing your cheek for a moment, losing itself in the strands of your hair moments after. “You really think I did a good job out there? Beating you?”
It’s the way he’s saying it. How he’s all desperate about it, so needy for you to admit he did good as he brushes your hair using his fingers.
“You know I do. That’s why you won, Art.”
“I swear i’ll keep the secret, loser” he chuckles lowly, breaking every rule as he pushes you to the edge of the counter. “I’ll tell everyone that you won, but you’ll still be the second place to me.”
Fucker.
You want to respond, say something sassy as well, a snarky remark at least, but Art’s pressing his forehead against yours, grabbing you by the jaw strong enough to remind you he has more force than you, but gentle enough to let you enjoy it, demanding you to look at him. Look at him like he’s been looking at you the whole damn night.
“I do, really want to kiss you right now, second place” he admits close to you, gaze travelling to your pumped lips as his eyes take in the details, the pink shade mixed with a transparent lip gloss that only seems to invite him, to make a mess with it, dissapear at its finest. “It’s burning me alive.”
He waits for any sign of permission, and you try to think reasons to say no. Any motive to say no to him, but instead you simply chuckle, back against the wall, trapped in this atmosphere he so easily created: There’s no human way possible to say no cause to be brutally honest, you want it too.
He’s hot. he's handsome in a way you cannot stop thinking about so when he's kissing you? You have no complains. You let him be needy, let him touch you like an anguished men, like he encountered a glass of water after a long walk in the dessert. The kiss it's all teeth and bite — It's fast, messy, demanding and wet. He's grabbing you by the medal, tugging on the gold circle just to make you lean towards him, fingers now caressing on the skin of your throat now as he deepen the kiss, not even waiting for permission as he slides his tongue in, wanting more.
"So you wear my medal and i'll wear yours" his breathing collides against your skin soon after, planting kisses on the crook of your neck, drawn by your smell of peaches, the softness of your skin. "Say it, please say you'll do it."
Each second becomes a torture, a cruel joke when you were so invested in winning, something you don't care about now, that seems to be far from your interests as he squeezes the skin of your tight, toying with the hem of your shirt, the cotton fabric of your black t-shirt that only annoys him as he touches your stomach, the sweet intimacy he's been craving since the morning.
"I'll do it," you nod for a second—. "But you have to be convincing. Don't make me look like a fool."
"How could I?" he asks, utterly curious as he stops for a second to look at you. "You're a winner, anyone can tell."
It makes your blood rush. His words seems to hit the jackpot, cause your shirt's falling the floor, the door's being closed with lock, and suddenly, the air is hot, the only sound that filled the bathroom of the sorority being his kisses, your labored breathing as you forgot about the rest of the party.
It's not something you'd usually do, the rush of something so sporadic, so inconsistent, but you love the adrenaline, the touch of his hands, the electricity being poured down your spine.
"Nobody would even dare to think you're in reality a loser" he says, praising once again in his own way as he places a soft kiss on your lips, looking down at your hands now, fingers interwined now in his jeans. More. You want more. “A really hot second place.”
Your touch is getting more eager now, and as you unbuckle his pants, he's fucking whimpering, his hips moving in need for the friction the palm of your hand can offer, taunting him for a second before he's pulling down on his own underwear himself, the blue fabric of his jeans falling halfway over his tights.
Your hand leaves his body for a second, and he's ready to beg for more until he notices what you're really doing, a large amount of spit going into your hand in what Art could swear is the most erotic act he has ever seen, traces of drool on in your chin before your fingers finally hug his already hard cock.
Soon he's fucking your fist, burying his head in your neck, moaning and pleading you to keep on going, moving his hips fast enough to create a delicious sound you thrive on, ones that mixes damn well in the air. He's slightly sweaty, not like he was in the game, but enough to create this nice smell it only makes you addicted.
"Don't cum," you ask, and it's a lot when his movements are becoming more erratic at the time passes, incoherent words of praise and need as he bites on your neck—. "Art. Don't cum on my hand."
Fuck that.
His touch becomes desperate after that. The medal of the first place still on your bare chest, your black bra slightly up as he’s been touching you, rolling your nipple between his fingers, your skin almost glowing beneath the bathroom lights: He needs you more than what's actually possible, tugging on the button of your shorts, annoyed with the piece of fabric as he takes it off, the time it took to undress you being valuable time he simply doesn't want to waste.
"Are you comfortable?" he asks, making sure for a second you're okay, nodding in response before he grabs you by the hips only to push you in the position he wanted, finally throwing the damn shorts you're wearing to the floor before spreading your legs open, positioning himself in the middle. "God, you're such a fucking sight."
His voice is rough now, and that nice look on his face, that fucking rat smile, friendly even, is far erased from his lips now as he grabs his dick, pushing it between your folds without really fucking you, and the act is enough to make you moan when he’s moving his hips in a cruel pace, the tip of his cock leaking already against you clit. He’s fucking his own fist, your already dripping cunt making it easier for Art to slide as he wants to.
He spits, and it’s a crime cause nobody looks good while doing so, the trails of saliva that leaves his mouth land on his dick, coating your cunt before slightly pushing it inside with the help of his fingers, finally offering what you trully need—. And you feel him, inch by inch. When his fingers are grabbing you by the waist to keep you in place, pushing slowly until he’s deep inside, placing sloppy kisses all over your neck as you moan in response.
Art swears he’s in heaven. Invaded by an intense bliss as he began to move. The second place medal hits his torso, colliding against yours as he moves, and his left hand moves to grab a fistful of your hair just to pull it backwards, making your head follow the motion — He’s relentless, moving in a slow pace at first before gaining rythm, but shit. You’d lie if you didn’t say he knew what he was doing when his right thumb moves in circles over your swollen clit.
It’s hard to hate Art Donaldson like that. All whiny and pathetic, mumbling words about how warm your pussy is, how tight you feel, wet for him. It’s hard giving a fuck about the competition when he’s leaving your hair alone to instead grab the thread of the medal you’re wearing, the red ribbon that was on his neck before and now is hanging on yours, angling the medal so the thread is now choking you, pulling on the gold slightly to make it harder to breathe.
“C’mon, loser” he says with a cocky smile, looking down where his cock is, stretching you out to his liking with each thrust. “D’you feel that? How good your pretty pussy is taking me? That’s first place material there, champion material.”
You nod a couple of times, too fucked-out to function. Lewd sounds fill out the room after, the moans, the grunts, the coils of pleasure that started to form in the lower part of your belly, fueled by his rough movements now, leaving that soft touch behind to replace it with force, fingers digging on your skin so hard he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark behind.
Fuck it. Fuck the game, fuck second place. Your head hits the mirror behind the sink, yet it means nothing as you can feel the orgasm being poured all over by the minutes, the insane punch as he keeps on going, hitting that nice spot in an inconsistant pace as you come undone.
“God that’s it,” he says, pulling on the medal until your skin is changing fucking colors—. “That’s it, cum,” he demands. “Taking my cock like a fucking champion.”
He cums soon after you, pulling out as it lands on your stomach, the gold medal thats now resting on your belly stained with his cum.
And he melts in top of you for a second, breathing heavily against your neck, body covered in sweat before blushing slightly embarassed about the mess he did.
Weird enough, only one thought appears on his mind after five minutes: Just wait until you meet Patrick.
previous kinktober file [ dean winchester ] // masterlist
#art donalson x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson smut#challengers#challengers smut#mike faist#mike faist smut#mike faist x reader#art donalson x fem!reader#cryptfile // kinktober#kinktober#kinktober 2024#cryptfile // challengers
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《Part 3 for The Meetup
《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《Summary: After your successful first date, you and Eddie continue seeing each other. Things start getting more serious between the two of you.
《Warnings: fluff, smut, 90s!Eddie, mention of death but its not detailed, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, slight mocking, some size kink if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, cum swapping Use of a bass amp to get off. Voyeurism, cockwarming. Masturbation (male) oral (female receiving) orgasm denial. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.
Word count: 13k
A/n: Please reblog, like, and leave a comment to support. Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes you come across.
Disclaimer: Please read parts 1 & 2 to understand the rest of the story. I also mention his mom in this part, but I wrote it way before the book spoilers were even released.
Mini series masterlist
18+ minors dni
Eddie decided he wanted to surprise you at work the very next morning after your "conversation" together. He really wanted things to progress and work out between the two of you. While you both barely know each other, there is a connection that he's been dying to have with someone for a long time. He also just really wanted to see you again before you came to his shows.
He walked through the glass door, ringing the bell, and smirked when you saw you with a customer. Eddie really loved how cute you looked in your work uniform. He overheard the customer you were dealing with at the moment complaining about how his coffee tasted too fresh. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean he thought. Eventually, the guy gave up and just snatched up his coffee and walked away. Eddie muttered asshole under his breath as the guy was walking past him.
After the man left, you still didn't notice Eddie walking up to the counter. You threw your head down, wanting this day to be over with already. You were trying to remain as calm as possible.
"Can I get a basic vanilla latte?" He asked, clearing his throat to grab your attention.
You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see him standing there. He was once again wearing black jeans and a muscle tee with his bands faded logo on the front. His tattooed arms on full display, and you can tell he shaved this morning. "Oh, what are you doing here?"
"Well I need coffee....and I wanted to see you." He smiled, showing off his dimples.
"Also, i couldn't stop thinking about our little talk last night." He continued wiggling his brows.
You can already feel your face getting warm at the mention of what you two did.
"Shhh!, we can't talk about that..not here." You scolded him, eyes widening in panic.
"Okay fine fine not here... but I do need that latte." He leaned over a little to whisper. That cocky smirk replacing the boyish one he had just moments ago.
You put in his order and tried to busy yourself. Not paying him too much attention, as he seemed to be extra playful today. He definitely came by to poke at you a little after what you did for him. You normally wouldn't have minded if the two of you were alone together. But you are at work, and most of the customers are people from your shared campus. The thought of one of them overhearing what you and him got up to would haunt you forever.
He watched you running around behind the counter, trying to seem busier than you actually were. "So I also wanted to ask maybe if you wanna come to my place after work?"
You pause instantly when he mentions going to his place. Did you just hear him correctly? Go to his place? You must have been making a face because he quickly added on.
"We can watch a movie, and I dunno talk." He's brown eyes looking into yours, almost pleading for you to say yes. You don't know how he does it. One moment, he's sexy and confident. Then next he's shy and bashful his cheeks alway gave him away. They would turn a crimson red when he got put on the spot. You can tell this sort of thing is pretty out of his comfort zone, but he's trying his best to change that.
"Yeah sure uhh I have to go home first, though."
You moved to pick up his coffee and hand it to him when his order was finally called. "I get off at six o'clock."
"I can pick you up from your place at around seven then. It's not a problem." He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.
Eddie started making his way to the door when you spoke up. "I don't get a terrible pun?"
He stops and turns to turns to you.
"I'm saving my best ones for tonight. " He said with a wink before exiting the coffee shop.
You watched the clock on the wall like a hawk. Counting down every minute to every second like a mad woman. Were you nervous to go over to his place? Yes. But you also were excited to go and actually hang out with him. You know he invited you to watch his band perform, but hanging out in his home felt more intimate. No one else would have his attention it would just be the two of you alone.
Once that large hand hit six, you were booking it out of there and racing home to get ready. Eddie had told you he'd pick you up by seven, so that gave you almost an hour to get yourself together. You showered and changed into some more comfortable clothes. Your roommate is still out of town, and you thanked God for that. You knew the moment she saw you racing around your house, there would be a million questions thrown your way.
You looked at the clock sitting on your dresser and it read 6:58 pm. You don't know know how punctual Eddie is as a person just yet. You stared at the clock some more, and each minute that passed felt like forever. Your heart thumps in your chest as you patiently wait for the sound of his van. When it finally turned 7pm and there still was no Eddie in sight, you started to worry a little. What if he forgot to pick you up? He never said this was a date, so maybe he decided to do something else.
7:20pm
The clock in big bold red letters reads.
You were really starting to think he wasn't going to show. Until you heard the familiar loud sound of his motor pulling up out front. You made a quick dash for the front door, grabbing your purse. Eddie wasn't even on the last step yet before you're meeting him on your front porch. "Someone is a little eager to leave."
"Oh well I..my roommate is gonna be home soon, and I didn't want her asking a thousand questions." You lied. You'd never tell him that you've actually been sitting on your bed biting at your nails watching the time go by.
"Understandable. Sorry I'm late by the way I was cleaning up my place for you." He moves his arm hooking it around yours, helping you down the stairs.
"No, it's fine. I was busy getting ready anyways," you lied again.
Eddie opened the passenger side door to his van as you got in. Jogging over the driver side, Eddie hops in to sit on the plush blue seat. This is the second time you've rode in his van, and the first time, you actually paid attention to the details. His seats were a soft blue material. He had various band stickers littering the dashboard.
The back was empty except for a few cords thrown here and there. You would guess this is what he used to pack his band equipment in. His gear shift had a silver skull with fang like teeth and red jewels for eyes. You can tell he took a lot of care and put a lot of time into his vehicle.
"How was work after I left?" He asked, turning down his music.
"It was fine a little boring but not too bad." You shrug, playing with a loose thread of your pullover.
"I hope you like scary movies because I picked out a couple from block buster." His hand moves from the gear shift to give your thigh a quick squeeze. "I love scary movies."
"Good, I got us Evil Dead 2, Halloween 4, and The Fog." He made a turn down a street you're not familiar with, but notice it's not far from your home or campus. "You pick first."
"Uh, I wanna watch The Fog first, then Halloween 4." You said, noticing the van slowing down and pulling into a parking lot of an apartment complex.
The van comes to a complete stop, and Eddie turns to unhook your seat belt. He jumps out of the driver side to open up your door, helping you out. Putting a hand to the small of your back, guiding you to the main entrance. He opens the door for you to step in first.
"Welcome to my castle." He jested with a bow.
You giggled as you made your past him to enter the building. He puts a hand to the small of your back again as he guides you up the stairs. It didn't take long before you and him were at his apartment door. His place only is just two flights up. Pulling out his keys from his leather jacket, he unlocked the door and bowed for you to enter again.
You step in and notice right away that he has tons of music equipment around. To the right of you is a large TV set on a stand facing his couch. His home is dark and cozy with dragon and skull statues almost everywhere. Metal band posters framed on his wall and black curtains covering his windows. You notice a few personal framed pictures on the wall by his TV.
There is one of him and an older man with a gray beard. A picture of him in front of a playing table with what you assumed were his friends. There was one picture that stood out the most to you. It was smaller than the rest and pretty faded. There was a woman smiling with long dark curly hair holding a very happy toddler wrapped in a towel. You can only guess that must be his mother. He also had a gold locket hanging off the frame. You wanted to ask him about the photos, specifically that one, but decided against it. There could he some not so great memories you dont want to bring up.
Eddie was digging around for the movies when he noticed you staring at his pictures.
"That's my uncle wayne." He walked up behind you, pointing at the man with the grey beard.
"And this is my old DnD club."
He reached over, taking the picture off the wall to give you a better look. "See, this is Jeff, Gareth, and Grant, who are also my band mates."
He continues on now pointing at the younger kids in the picture. "This is Henderson, who is a little shit might I add. Then we have Lucas, Erica, and Mike."
He puts the picture back on wall and turns to set up his TV and VCR.
"What about this one?" You point at the faded picture of a woman and baby. Instantly cringing when you opened your big mouth.
"That's me and my Mom." He smiles fondly at the mention of her. "She passed when I was little."
"I'm sorry, Eddie." You feel guilty for even asking.
He looks up at you. "Wanna hear the story about how I first got arrested?"
"Oh, um, sure."
He clears his throat and puts a tape in his VCR.
"Well, I was about 16, and I had just got my first guitar. So I went to her grave because I wanted to show her. I saved up all of my money that summer, too. I was working at this mechanic shop and then did little tedious jobs around town for some extra cash. Eddies smiling, but there is some sadness behind his eyes.
"So I go to her grave and pull out my guitar and brag about how I paid for it all on my own. I laid back against her headstone and strummed away on the cords. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I knew, I was in handcuffs getting put in a police car." His eyes getting glassy at the memory. You can see he's fighting back tears.
Clearing his throat again, "and that's how I got arrested."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring anything up." You apologized as guilt was eating away at you. "Nah, it's okay. I like talking about her."
"Any who you ready to watch this movie and eat?" He exclaimed, clapping his hands wanting to change the topic.
You nod feeling a little relieved he doesn't seem upset you asked about his Mom. He runs to the kitchen to pull out two pizza boxes from his oven and sets them down on the coffee table. He gets the movie started and turns off most of the lights except for in the kitchen. You and Eddie sit back on the couch with his arm draped around you. You lean close against him to get comfy as the main title starts to roll.
There was tension again and the not bad kind either. The same kind that was present when you were together in his van on your first date. Eddie kept glancing down at you as you tried to put all of your focus in the movie. You felt his fingertips brush your skin underneath your pullover. You looked up at him and noticed his attention on the screen. He was playing innocent. It was an innocent little touch at first, but he wanted to slowly work you up.
His fingers tracing light patterns as they slowly inched their way to the waistband of your tights. His eyes still focused on the movie when you looked back up. He seemed like he didn't notice you watching him, but he did. A devilish smirk appears on his face when he sees you squirm. He inches his fingers further until they are playing with the elastic of your panties. He pulls and snaps the band back against your hip.
You try to remain focused on the movie playing in front of you. He seemed like he wasn't really aware of what he was currently doing to you. His eyes haven't left the tv since he pressed play from what you can tell. You felt his hand dipping lower and lower into your tights. His hand almost cupping your sex. You're breathing heavier, anticipating for him to keep going further down. You feel a finger trace up your slit brushing over your clit. You let out a small gasp and try to remain calm. You look back up at him and notice his eyes remain forward. You turn back to the TV, and he chuckles to himself, watching you wriggle next to him.
You spread your legs a little wider, giving him more access. He took the opportunity to rub across your clit once more before moving your panties to side. His middle finger dipped down to your opening. He groans a low hum when he feels how wet you already are for him. Your breathing increases. You want him to keep touching you. He looks down at you for moments and notices how tight you're squeezing his leg.
He bends down to whisper in your ear. "Come sit in my lap, baby."
His breath tickled your neck.
You dont hesitate not for one second. You immediately moved to lay back on his lap, letting one leg hang off the side of the couch. You can feel his hard length pressing into the curve of your ass. His hand dipped down in your panties to glide his fingers between your wet folds. You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. "I know, baby. I know. God, you're so wet already."
"Keep going." You gasp when you felt one of his fingers press on your aching clit.
"Gonna make you feel so good tonight."
Your legs already trembling, and he's barely touched you.
"I can't wait to get you all messy." He grunted when he felt you shift in his lap. Your ass grinding against him. His cock painfully hard in his jeans it's just begging to be set free.
"Shit..take these off." He pulled at your tights.
You moved to yank them down to your ankles and kicking the tights off. Your slick already soaking through the lace material of your panties. He hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them off you almost tearing the fabric. You're completely naked from the waist down.
You feel his middle finger dip down again and tease at your entrance. Adding another, he pushes them in, splitting you open. His fingers lazily pumping inside you. Your slick dripping down, making a small wet patch on his leg. Your clit throbbing at Eddie's continued neglect. You can't take it anymore. You move your hand slowly to rub languid circles around your sensitive bud. "Fuck that's it play with yourself."
"You're so fucking hot." He nips at your earlobe watching as your and his hand works on your pussy.
His fingers plunging deep and harder inside you. Your breathing ragid as you writhe on his lap. Your moans mix with sounds of terror blaring from his TV. You're sure his neighbors are used to it. He curved his middle and index to massage that sweet spot on your walls.
"You like that, sweetheart? " He cooed in your ear.
"Mmm!, yes!" You moan.
You can feel him smile against your neck biting down on the skin. His fingers picking up the pace as they plunge deeper inside you. Your walls getting spread open by his thick digits. Rubbing your clit faster as you feel a tightness building up in your core. Your release approaching you much too soon. Your pussy making the loudest wet sounds as Eddie's fingers spread you open. His hand getting drenched in your slick.
"My girl gettin' close?" His rasped licking the shell of your ear.
Your ass grinding down harder against him making it difficult for Eddie not to cum in his jeans.
Your bucking up your hips as your own fingers work on your aching clit. Eddie can't believe this once shy girl is now lying across his lap with his fingers buried deep in her. The sight alone was enough for him to make him cum.
Your orgasm rapidly approaching, you feel your thighs twitcing, and you close them tightly around his hand, keeping him tightly in place. You're orgasm ripping powerfully through your body. Eddie takes his other hand to push your legs back open. His long, thick fingers stretching your sensitive walls as they pulsate around him. The pads of his fingertips pruning from your wetness. Taking his other hand to push yours off to rub on your clit helping you ride out your orgasm.
"That's it baby cum for me." He praised.
Your body vibrates as you came down from your high. Your orgasm leaving you almost limp in his arms. Your legs feel numb and jello like. Eddie carefully removes his fingers from inside you. There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as your breathing evens out. The only sounds in the apartment are now the ones of pure agony coming from his TV.
"Wanna make you cum all night long." He breathed.
You look up at him, eyes slowly opening and closing.
Can you sit on my thigh for me?" He asked softly.
You carelessly nod. Your body felt like it was floating.
You sit up and slowly move to stand. Your legs wobble, and you almost fall, but Eddie catches you by the hips. He guides you to sit and straddle his thigh. You can see the imprint of his cock in his pants. You lick your lips, remembering the size of him. You sit down your bare pussy now rubbing on his pants. His hands still firmly on your hips, moving you to grind against him.
"Like this." He showed you.
You take the perfect opportunity to lick and suck at the sensitive spot under his neck, earning you a little whimper from him. Your soft lips leave a trail of kisses behind after each bite. He tries holding back another moan as your mouth continues to attack his neck. You grind harder on his thigh, rubbing yourself against him like he showed you. His fingers digging into the your ass as your pussy grinds on him. Your clit rubbing on the rough material.
He can feel your wetness soaking his leg as you grow closer to cuming again. He removes you away from his throat and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. Teeth clashing as your tongues dance together. He halts your movements on his thigh, lifting you up slightly.
"Look at that mess you’ve made." He teased. Your slick very noticeable on his dark jeans.
"Oh! Eddie. You whine loving how he seemed to be mocking you.
"W-we're supposed to be watching a movie." Your legs burning and your clit aching as you rub it faster on his leg.
"You looked scared.....thought I distract you." He sounded almost genuine. He licks a strip up your throat, making you let a small whine.
"M'not scared." You mumbled, trying to defend yourself. Eddie knew you weren't scared.
Each time you speak, every word is followed with a cry of pleasure.
Eddie laughs. "I know, you weren't. I was so scared. I had to distract myself."
He fakes a pout, gripping your ass painfully hard. His fingers digging into your skin.
Eddie pulls you back down against him roughly and moves to help you grind faster. Your chest rising and falling quickly as you feel another orgasm approaching you. You move against him rubbing your throbbing clit on his leg. You can feel that tightness in your core building up again. This time, it's approaching you stronger than the last.
"S'good." You mewled, grinding your hips back and forth.
You inhale your breath and bury your face in his neck as your second orgasm washes over you. It felt like adam was bursting open. You cum so hard on him tears leak from your eyes. Your hands grip his shoulders while he moves your hips to continue grinding on him.
"That's it cum all over me." His voice so deep and husky. You swear you could cum just by listening to him.
You rest your head on him, your body covered in sweat as Eddie rubs your back.
"You did so good." He whispered in your ear.
You sit there in his lap until you build up enough strength to move. Your mind hazy, and your vision is blury.
"Let's go to my room." He kissed your swollen lips and helped you stand.
"Okay." You move to get up, and Eddie takes you by the hand. Your legs feel weak but strong enough to still walk.
He guides you to his bedroom and opens up the door, revealing a large bed with black sheets. The room was dark except for a black light on the table next to his bed. There was a glowing green skull poster above his headboard. Eddie pulled you to the other side of the room and took your pullover off, revealing your bare breasts to him. Your nipples hardening into little peaks as the cold air hits your naked chest. He quirks an eyebrow up when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra tonight.
"Lay back for me." He asked, kissing you one more time.
You move to lay against the pillows behind you. You watch as he rummages through his nightstand, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid. He tosses it next to you on the bed and takes off his shirt. You can see the outline of his cock so prominent even in dark. Clenching your legs together, thinking about him buried inside you.
Eddie moves over to your side of the bed, taking his pants and boxers off. His pale skin glowing under the purplish lighting of his bedroom. His cock springing free and he lets out a deep sigh. "Im gonna cum on those pretty tits of yours kay?"
Biting down on your lip, you nod eagerly, waiting for him to begin.
He moves to straddle your waist and reaches over to pick up the bottle he tossed earlier. He pops the top open and squirts the clear gel on his palm. Fisting his cock rubbing the lube up and down his shaft. He brushes his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum. Eddie begins to stroke his shaft as you watch. He's pumping his cock in a slow pace watching you not taking your eyes away from him. You moved your hands to rub down his abdomen, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He lets out a strangled moan when he feels your nails scratch into his skin.
He leans over with one hand by your head, and the other still stroking his cock.
"W-wanna fuck you so bad baby." He groans above you. His face just mere inches away from yours.
Eddie's thinking back to that night you called him on his show. How your wanton moans ringed in his ears almost every night since then. He picks up the pace as he fucks his hand wishing it were you instead. The way you begged him help you cum for the first time.
He fists his cock faster lube dripping down from his palm and on your stomach. Some of it splashes on your chest from how hard he's going. His grip tightened when he heard you let out a little whimper. He's all teary-eyed and body glistening in sweat. His cock making a filthy schlick noise similar to what you heard on the phone last night.
"I wanna make you feel so fucking good." He sits back up pumping his cock so hard the veins in his forearm are now visible. His bicep flexing with every stroke.
Your hands move to grip and rub up and down his thighs. Your mouth watering as you watched his precum trickle down to his knuckles.
"You're so big, Eddie." You purred under him.
He lets out a choked sob loving when you tell him how big he is. He already knows, but hearing you say it does something to him. He's so desperate for you all he's imagined since meeting you is having you like this. Hearing you speak to him like that is almost too much to handle. How you're talking to him the same way he talks to you. The way your shyness fades away when you're alone together. He loves it.
Don't cum, Don't cum, Don't cum. His inner monologue chants. Eddie tries not to focus too much on what you're saying but fuck its hot hearing it coming from you.
"God, I'm gonna f-ffking ruin you." His voice strained from grunting so much. He's fucking himself harder to the point his arm is beginning to hurt. The chain on his wrist rattling and clanking around.
He moves up a little higher when he feels himself getting close. His hand fists his cock in a tight strong grip. His pulse quickened with each stroke. His aching cock begging to cum already. He's trying to prolong it, but he doesn't know how much longer he can hold out for.
"Need your cum Eddie." You begged digging your nails into his skin.
Rolling his eyes to the back of his head cursing under his breath. His mouth hung open as drool spilled down his chin and onto you. "Please cum on me."
"Jesus christ," He breathed. His legs almost giving out on him as he kneeled above you.
His hips thrust forward, rocking his bed against the wall. His hand tightened around him as he imagines its you. His tip leaking precum down to his knuckles. Eddie needs to cum now he can't hold it any longer. He fists his length pumping faster than before. His cock twitches in his palm, and he lets out the most animalistic groan you've ever heard. His cum shooting out and covering your tits.
He falls forward, almost landing on top of you. Your tits covered in his cum just like he imagined. Eddie sat up to admire the work he's just done on your breasts. He bends over without a second thought, licking his mess off you. His tongue lapping away until you're clean of him. Sucking and biting down on your sensitive nipples making you push your tits closer to his mouth. Eddie sat up to look at you for a moment. His mouth full of his own cum and spit. He grips your jaw with his hand firmly. Pulling your chin down until your mouth is opened wide for him. You already know have an idea of what he's about to do. You stick your tongue out far as it can go waiting for him.
Eddie spits his cum straight into your mouth getting it all over your tongue allowing you to taste him. You close your mouth, swallowing every bit you received. Enjoying the saltiness of his essence on your taste buds. "You like how I taste, huh?"
"I love the way you taste." You whisper, feeling his cum go down your throat. His taste lingering on your tongue.
"Such a good girl. You didn't waste a drop." He spoke softly, tapping your checking gently.
He moves to sit up straight against his headboard. You lay there naked, not really knowing what you should do next. Do you leave now? Does he want you to stay? Your insecurities start creeping back up. You shouldn't feel this way. He's never once made you think he didn't want to be around you.
"Fuck!..shit!" He breathed heavily laughing to himself. He notices how quiet you've gotten all of a sudden. "You okay?"
"Mhmm, yeah, I'm great." You look over at him. You weren't lying. You felt great, but there was this awkwardness that only you were feeling. You were bracing yourself to be let down and told to pick up your clothes and leave.
Eddies does the exact opposite. He isn't like that. Not with you. Most women left him afterward without a moments thought. No one ever stayed over, and he was hopeful you would. He wished at least one girl would have, and he'd wake up to them stroking his hair. He'd cook them breakfast and laugh over their food. That never happened. He went to bed alone and woke up alone.
"Want a shirt to sleep in?" He asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. His voice croaked.
"Oh, um, sure." You give him a shy smile.
Eddie did want you to stay and spend the night. He didn't want to you leave like you assumed. He runs a hand down his face, cleaning off some of the sweat, trying to gather himself a bit more. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he walks over to a chair with various discarded clothes. Picking up a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He tosses the shirt over to you as he puts his pj's on.
The shirt is old with some holes and bleach stains. With an Iron Maiden logo plastered on the front. You throw it over your head and lay back, trying to get comfortable. "We never did eat."
"Too tired now." Your eyes growing heavy as you watch Eddie make his way back to you.
He gets back in bed, throwing the covers over you both. "Yeah, me too."
You turn so your back is facing him, sinking deeper into the mattress. His bed is warm and soft. You feel him drap and arm over you, bringing you to press up against his bare chest. You wanted to ask him something, but your mind is still foggy from earlier to recall what it was. Your body is so weak, and your legs feel like you ran a marathon. Soft snores from behind let you know Eddie has already passed out. Probably right when his head hit the pillows. You figured you'd stop over thinking things and just rest, too. You were definitely going to need it.
-
The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no sign of Eddie. His spot cold as the sun peaks through the tiny cracks of his blinds. You move to get up and make your way through his apartment. You're still in his old Iron maiden shirt as you remembered your clothes were previously thrown around his living room and bedroom. Your face heating up when you think about what the two of you did last night. What did he to you last night. How good he made you feel and never did he make you feel guilty for anything you didn't do. He didn't pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with.
You make your way down the short hallway until you stop at the living room. The curtains were wide open this time allowing you to see his home better. Not only did he play guitar and collect little figurines, but he was also an artist. Multiple paintings and drawings decorating his walls with a little EM scribbled at the bottom. A pan crashing in the kitchen startles you, and you rush to see if Eddie's okay.
You run and freeze in the doorway when you notice his bare back is to you cooking at the stove. The aroma of pancakes and bacon filling your nose making your stomach growl. He was making you breakfast. No guy you've ever seen made you breakfast before. The more you're around Eddie, the faster you feel like you're falling for him. He was too good to be true, you thought. There has to be something wrong with him.
He feels you standing at the door.
"G'morning, how'd you sleep?" He smiled over his shoulder, flipping another pancake.
"I slept good, actually." You moved to sit on a barstool watching him cook.
"Yeah, me too." A grin plastered on his face, remembering last night too. He smiled fondly at the memory of you naked on his bed.
"Hope you're hungry because I made food."
Your stomach growling louder at the mention of food. You and him didn't do much eating last night. "I'm starving, actually,"
He pulls down two plates, one for you and him. You sit gazing around his apartment, waiting for him to finish up. You must have been daydreaming because the sound of glass clinking in front of you made jump almost out of your seat.
"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He sets a couple of pancakes on your plate. Picking up a can of whipped cream, creating a little smiley face for you.
"Eat up!" Eddie looked proud of his work on your plate. "I made these special."
He moves to sit down next to you and shoves a fork full of food in his mouth. You pick at your plate a little, wanting to eat but dreading the goodbye that's soon to come.
"You're not eating." He leaned over close as he noticed not one bite of food has been taken from your plate. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"About?" He questioned, turning his attention back to the pancakes smothered in whipped cream and way too maple syrup.
"It's not important." You murmured.
You pick up your fork and finally take a bite of your pancakes. Your mood suddenly switches now that you have food in your belly. You didn't realize he had put blueberries in them. They were light and fluffy but not too sweet. The whipped cream made into the shape of a smiley face melting away.
You glance over, seeing him focused on his food, not a thought behind those eyes right now. He was mesmerized by the sugary goodness in front of him.
"I didn't know you played bass too." You commented, trying to grab his attention.
Nodding his head, he looked over and smiled. "Yep."
"I played bass in my first band, but I liked being certain of attention too much, so I opted for guitar." He joked, but you know there was some truth to that. Taking another large bite, clearing his plate of pancakes and bacon.
"Want me to play you a song before we head out for the day?"
"Sure!" You exclaimed, dropping your fork with a loud clunk.
You've never seen or heard him play before. You know you'll be seeing him soon this Wednesday, but you just can't wait that long. Even though it's only a few days away.
He hops off the barstool and heads over to pull out his equipment. "Come over here, sweetheart."
He moved this big amp to the middle of the floor and patted it while motioning for you to come sit down. You gingerly got up as your legs still feel a little wobbly. You plop your butt down on the amp. "Ah ah, straddle it."
"Please."
There was a devious glint in his eyes.
You look at him confused but move, so each of your legs is on either side of the amp. He walked over, plugging in his bass and messing with the nobs on the Amp. He looked at you for a split second a sly grin appearing on his face. You're still confused about what he's up to, but you know he's up to something.
"Good girl." He bent over kissing the side of your head. "Gonna play my pretty girl a song before she starts her day."
You sit there all smiles while you watch him get everything set up. Maybe he is innocent time and isn't up to something. But you've seen that grin one too many times, and you've only just met.
"I'm gonna play you a personal favorite of mine." He plucked the string slightly, testing to see if the amp was on properly.
"Song is Orion by the way." He winked.
He begins plucking away at the cords and watches you intently. The amp in between your legs starts coming to life and rattle with vibrations. Your legs twitch, and you move to stand up, but Eddie shoots you a look, and you sit right back down. Your breath hitches the faster he starts to play. You try to remain focused on him, but the faster he plays, the more intense the amp vibrates.
"This is my favorite part to play." He raised his voice a little so you can hear him.
The song calms down just a little, making the amp die down. You exhale a deep breath, thinking it was over. Your clit throbs between your legs from Eddie's previous abuse last night.
"How you feeling, baby?" He asked, knowing the song was about to pick up speed again.
You stifle a moan. "I'm good."
"Grind on it like you did my leg." He commanded, shooting you a stern look.
He's never spoken or looked at you like that before. He sounded almost domineering, and you won't lie. You liked the way it made you feel.
"That's it, you're so good." His fingers steadily working on the bass slung over his chest.
You do as you're told and rock back and forth on the amp. The song picking up more speed, and you feel that coil in your tummy getting tighter. Your legs trembling as you struggle to do as you're told. Your body telling you to stand up and get off but the need to cum was too over powering. He picks at the strings harder and faster. "Oh fuck!"
"E-Eddie, I can't please....i-its too much," you pleaded. Your clit still sore from last night it felt almost bruised.
"You can. Just relax." He reassured.
You nod your head and focus while the vibration on your core intensified. You rock your hips, grinding down on his amp. Each pluck of the strings as the song changes tempo makes your whole body tremble. The song is coming close to an end, and soon, the closer you are to your release.
"Mmmfph! I'm gonna cum." You moan loud over the music.
"I know, baby!" He yelled back over the music.
You ride the amp harder and faster as your release approaches. With a sharp intake of breath, as another orgasm washes over you, sending shockwaves throughout your body. You almost topple over on the floor, but Eddie quickly rushes to catch you. "I got you, don't worry."
He set his bass down on the floor, holding on to your arm with one hand. He carefully helps you to your feet, and your legs almost give out. "You okay?"
"I'm okay, yeah." You panted.
"Did you like it?"
"Yeah, just warn me next time." You playfully swatted at his chest.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I had to make sure I'd be on your mind all day." He laughed, walking you down the hallway. He turned to see the very noticeable sticky mess you left behind.
He helped you to the bathroom, letting you get washed up before you both got dressed to head out. He mentioned how he has class, but he'd love for you to listen to his show tonight. You never told him you do that almost every time he was on air. Day dreaming about meeting him. You had class too during the same hours as him so you couldn't grab lunch like he'd suggested. Which is fine. You'll be seeing him in a few days anyway. You are going to miss him, though. You had fun and truth be told you didn't want to stay again. He didn't want you to leave either. If he could lock you up in this apartment with him, he would. No hesitations. Just the two of you alone together.
Eddie gave you a ride home so you can put on some clean clothes. He gave you one long kiss before you hopped out of his van.
"I'll see you Wednesday." He gave a wink before pulling off.
Wednesday came a lot slower than you wished for it to. You tried to keep yourself occupied with work and class. Wishing the time flew by fast like the last time, but it didn't. Those last few days leading up to his performance seemed to drag a long. You just wanted to see Eddie and be with him. You already planned tonight was the night.
You planned your outfit and makeup. Already having your dress hanging up on your closet. Eddie had offered to come pick you up and take you to the bar, but you declined since you didn't know how long it would take getting ready. You'd planned to run straight home after work and not waste any time. Of course, things didn't go exactly to plan because you had to work almost an hour past when you're supposed to clock out. You pleaded to your manager that you have to leave soon. You had plans. Very, very important plans.
Finally, you were able to leave, and you sprinted home grateful you lived very close by. Busting through your front door, almost knocking down the pictures on your wall on the way to your bedroom. You were already extremely late to see him as is. You know his band already started their first song, and you hope Eddie doesn't notice your absence.
You threw on your dress that was much shorter than the last one he saw you in. You chose to wear heels again, knowing you were probably going to trip at some point tonight. You regret not taking Eddie up on his offer to drive you to the Hideout. Racing out the door and down the street into town. Now was a good time to regret not owning a car. Your feet are already killing you on the pavement. Luckily, the bar is right near campus as well. You're already cringing at the blisters that will be on your toes by tomorrow.
Flashing red signs and loud music fill your ears. You can see the bar on the far right corner of the busy street. Cars line up down the road as they make their to the same destination as you. Some of the people you can recognize from class or the coffee shop. Entering the bar, you can hear Eddie before you even see him. He's already thanking everyone for attending tonight. He told you his sets aren't long, only about forty minutes since other bands play there too. He begrudgingly has to share the stage.
You guess he was on his second to last song by the time you arrived. You felt terrible missing half of his show. You didn't expect to work so late, particularly on a Wednesday evening. You were a little taken back by the number of people out mid week.
You see him at last up on stage in far back. The bar is a lot bigger than you imagined. You're struggling to get closer to the stage. There is a tiny corner close to him that's empty you noticed. Your feet in pain and with people stepping on them as you push past, you won't be surprised if they're not bleeding yet. You almost have to force your way over there. You didn't expect this many people to show up. The Hideout was also the only bar closest to everyone, so obviously, they'd all gather here. Eddies band was also very popular with the local metalheads.
You finally reached the small little empty corner near him. You have a good view of the side stage and audience. You see him singing and thrashing away on his guitar. His hair is down and sticks to his neck. The chain hanging around his neck now tangled. His shirt is drenched in beer and sweat. Not his beer. Some guy apparently threw a drink on him earlier from what you manage to overhear from people in the crowd. They were applauding how Eddie threw the guy off the stage.
You look over and notice almost a sea of women in the front. Well, not exactly a sea of women but a very good amount of them. One too many for your liking. They're all make bedroom eyes at him and flashing their tits. You feel something coming over you as you watch them take off their bras and throw it on stage. You noticed one tied up and hanging from his mic stand. Were you jealous or angry? You're not sure, but you dont like how you feel. You watched him look at them and no one else. If you weren't jealous before, you sure as hell are now. Eddie was yours. There was this burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to leave but not without him.
His set was coming to an end as he announced the last song Corroded Coffin would be performing tonight. You wanted to move so he could see you, but it's too late. A huge mob rushed to the front stage. People jumping up there with him to head bang. More articles of clothing are thrown his way. You lean up against the brick wall behind you, trying to calm down. Your nerves are all worked up not only from the girls but also from the number of people here tonight. You're not used to large crowds like this.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming to see us tonight. we're Corroded coffin." Eddie announced in the mic.
He moves to leave the stage and almost walks right past you. He doesn't notice you at first with his head hanging low.
"Eddie!" You yelled, trying to get his attention and grab his writs.
His head quickly pops up, looking to see who just grabbed him. His face softened when he saw it was you. "Hey, you came. Follow with me."
He intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you backstage. Eddie gave quick hi's and byes as you tagged along. It was much brighter back there with dingy white walls that had graffiti all over them. Different bands signing each brick signifying they played there. You overheard his other members discussing whose car would be moving the equipment back to Gareth's place. Eddie drags you down various different corridors until he's pulling you in a private bathroom.
"You like the show?" He asked, turning on the faucet to wash his hands and face off.
"Yeah, you were great." You still had this jealous feeling in your stomach. You felt build the more you tried to drown it out.
He turns off the water and walks over to you. You back away until you couldn't anymore. Eddie eyes at what you're wearing, licking his lips. Your dress is barely covering anything at all. "You look nice."
"Thank you." You whispered.
He bends down to give you a heated kiss. His lips crash onto yours. You open your mouth to breathe, and that's when he sneaks his tongue in. His hands creeping grip your ass over your dress. His kiss is intoxicating as his tongue explores your mouth. You melt into him.
He breaks away. "Need to take you home."
He's panting heavy pupils already blown out with lust.
"I wanna go to your place."
He pulls you away from the door, grabbing your arm and making a bee line for the exit.
"Don't you have to help pack up?" You try to keep up with him as your heels scrap the floor.
"They're fine."
You don't what possessed you, but the moment you got him alone in his van, your hands and lips were all over him. Reaching over to rub his semi hard cock over his pants while he tries to focus on the road. You can feel him hardening under your palm.
"S-sweetheart, come on, wait just a few minutes. He pleaded, feeling himself getting harder. His cock straining painfully on the zipper of his jeans. "We're almost there."
You lean over closer sucking and biting his neck, earning you a groan. You move your hand slowly down his abdomen until it reaches his belt. You unbuckle and undo the button to his pants. His eyes trained on the road a head. Both hands tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles are almost turning white.
"Oh god." He rasped when he felt your hand slip past his boxers.
His chest heaving and his jaw clenches. You were acting very bad right now. You know you should stop. You know doing this kind of thing can be dangerous. You just couldn't wait to have him any longer.
"W'nna gag on your cock Eddie." You smile biting your lip.
You continue teasing and rubbing his length. "Can you fuck me tonight?" He's so thick your hand can barely wrap around it. You're salvating, remembering how you struggled to fit him all in your mouth.
He coughed, choking on his spit when you heard you. He doesn't know what's gotten into you tonight, but he is not complaining.
You remove your hand from his pants and give the side of his mouth a quick peck. You move back to your seat and put your seat belt back on. You let him drive peacefully until he gets to his apartment building. He looks to the buldge in his pants and back to you. He's mad. Mad that you teased him like this and then just left him.
"Just wait until I get you inside." Eddie's eyes never leaving the road to look at you. His jaw clenching.
You squeeze your thighs together, getting turned on at what he's planning on doing to you. You don't know why, but you like seeing him get mad.
He speeds up when he sees his building ahead. You need him bad tonight. You can still taste him on your tongue. The screeching of tires coming to a complete stop, letting you know you've arrived at his place. Eddie wasted no jumping out the driver side and practically pulling you out of the van. He leads you inside with your arm still in his grip.
His lips are all over you as you're heading up the stairs to his apartment. You both tripped over one another, making your way up each step. His hands are running all over your body. From your ass and thighs to your tits. There wasn't a place he wasn't touching you. He just wants to throw you on his bed and rip that dress off from your body. Spread you open and have you begging him not to stop.
You don't even recall how you made it inside his apartment. You kick your shoes off and strip him of his shirt. Your lips are on his in a feverish kiss. He backs you up against the couch, your ass hitting the arm.
"Turn around." His mumbles as you bite at his bottom lip.
You break away to look at him, confusion written all over your face.
"I said, turn. around." He instructed in a demanding like tone.
You do as you're told and turn around. His naked chest pressed against your back. You can feel his hard cock pressing into the swell of your ass. "You were a bad girl back there."
"I think you need a good spanking, hm?" His mouth was right by ear as he whispered seductively. He moves his hand to give you a swift slap on your ass. You yelp when you felt him.
Your nipples harden through your dress. His hands are feeling up your legs. His fingers tips goasting over the skin of your thighs. He goes to remove your panties when he noticed you're not wearing any.
"Oh," He marveled, lifting up your dress. He tsks, shaking his head. "You're being so bad tonight." He's taunting you. Playing with you a little. Wanting to rile you up before giving you what you want.
He moves from behind you to sit down on the couch.
"Over my lap." He sounded frustrated he had to do this, and you liked it. His sudden dominance with you. A complete contrast to the Eddie you're used to.
You move to lay across his lap. You shiver with anticipation, waiting for him to spank you for the first time. Hopefully, it won't be the last you thought to yourself.
He hand pulls back, and with no warnings, he smacks you hard on the ass. You gasp and jolt forward. He doesn't give you time to adjust before doing it again and again. Your ass stinging from the impact his palm was making. His hand is an angry red shade from how hard he's going.
You don't know if you were supposed to count or not, but if you had to guess, you'd say he's given you five so far. Tears spilling down your face ruining your makeup. "Aww, you crying? No crying baby, you deserve this."
"You did this to yourself now. Take it like a good girl." Eddie sighed. He swats you again for the eigth time. "Could have gotten us hurt back there.
"Can't have my pretty girl gettin' hurt." He spoke gently to you. He was right. You shouldn't have done that.
Eddie, stops to check in on you. Not wanting to push you past any limits.
"You gonna be my good girl?" His hand smoothing over your very sore cheeks.
"M'sorry I'll be good." You sniffle. It hurt, but you liked it. The wetness pooling between your legs every time his hand connected to your ass.
He lifts up your dress, exposing your bare ass to him. His fingers moving to tease at your opening. Your slick running down your inner thighs.
"Someone enjoys getting spanked, I see." He mocked, slowly pushing two fingers in your entrance.
"Mmhm y-yes I like it." You mewled, feeling his fingers working you open. You let out a high-pitched squeal, feeling him curving them upwards. His thick fingers plunging in your pussy. You grip a tight hold on his thighs while his fingers are busy thrusting into you.
"Bedroom...now," He commanded in a stern voice, ripping his fingers from you with a loud wet pop as they make their leave. A long string of your slick connecting the two of you together. Eddie brings the two digits to his mouth, cleaning them off.
That's all you had to hear before leaving him alone. You strip yourself of your dress, throwing it to the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed waiting for him. His room is exactly how he left it the last time you were stayed. Your ass still stinging from his hand.
Eddie walked through the doorway of his bedroom. He's jeans discarded somewhere in his living area. He walks over and towers over you.
"You really want to do this?" He asked, making sure you were absolutely ready.
"Yes... I need you." You pleaded.
You desperately needed him. You can't go much longer without having him inside you. You felt like you were going to go insane. He's looking down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. You felt safe. You always have with him.
He pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. Eddie crawled over top of you until you were flat on your back. He reached down between your legs to tease at your opening some more, wanting to get you ready for him. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access.
Eddie hums at the sight of you spread out for him. Only him. Your pussy glistening in the dim light of his bedroom and it takes all his strength to not just fuck you right then. He sinks down to his knees and yanks you down roughly so your ass is hanging off the edge of the mattress. He spits down on your pussy before spreading your folds apart with his tongue. You sigh feeling his warm tongue lapping at your clit. Your legs hanging over his shoulders. The little stumble starting to grow on his chin, tickling your folds. It was too much.
You gripped and clawed at the sheets on the bed beneath you. Eddie puts one finger to your entrance and pushes in until it disappeared. He curved his middle finger upward pumping it in your pussy rubbing at that spongey spot on your walls. You grip his hair as his mouth works on your clit. He grunts against you, making your whole body quiver. Eddie is going at you like a man starved. His mouth never lets up for one second. His eyes closed as he got lost in your taste. Savoring every drop of your slick on his tongue.
Your legs try to close around his head, and he grips one tightly, pushing it away. Your hips lifting as you're writhing around feeling your orgasm building. Eddie can feel you getting close when your walls clenched and pulsed around his finger. His plump lips sucking at your clit harder. You were almost there. So close and just as you were about to cum. Eddie stopped suddenly removing his mouth from you and pulling his finger away. Your walls still pulsating as he denied you of your orgasm. His face was shiny and covered in your juices. He looks up giving you an amused look.
You frown at him, knowing he’s messing with you for what you did to him in the van.
"Why'd you stop? I was so close." You almost wanted to cry. "I need you...I just wanna cum p-pleeease make me cum."
You'd do anything at this point to have him inside of you. Your pussy was practically crying for his cock to nestled deep inside you.
"My girl wants me to fuck her?" He whispered with a sultry tone. "Is that it?"
"Yeah," you replied. your voice barely above a whisper.
"Aww baby, don't cry." Eddie cooed, noticing the sad look on your face after what he just done. He wasn't going to deny you anymore. How could he when you're looking at him like that.
You nod your head slowly. "Need it so so so bad."
"Gonna have you feelin' so full." He sits up aligning his cock on top of your pussy. Showing you how far in he's going to be.
"Look at that...look how deep I'm going to be." He's so hard for you. Feels like with just the slightest touch you give him, he could explode on the spot.
You squirm under his gaze, arching your back, waiting as patiently as you possibly could. You know he's going to go about this slow. He's going to be extra careful with you. He's going to tease and taunt you because he wants to here you beg for it. He holds the base of his cock slapping it against your sore clit. Getting his precum on your wet folds. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your face feels all fuzzy and warm.
"Don't tease me anymore." You whine, stifling a moan when the head of his cock dips down to your entrance. He pushes just a few inches in parting you open. Your eyes fluttering closed when you get a little taste at what's to come.
Eddie doesn't stay for long he removes himself teasing your clit with his tip. Rubbing your juices and his precum all over your sore bud. You thrash and grip a hold of his sheets. Your walls clenching around nothing again as they're so ready to be stretched open by him. Each time his tip pushes at your opening, you feel that coil in your belly creeping back up. You were on the verge of cuming just moments before he denied the chance. You know the second his cock sinks in you won't be able to hold it.
He rubs his cock up and down nudging your clit with his leaking tip over and over again. Your slick drenching his length. He thought he was going to need to use his lube, but that doesn't seem to be the case tonight. Your pussy is drenched with your juices. You were more than ready for him. Eddie just enjoyed getting you worked up. Hearing your sweet little cries anytime he gets his cock close enough to your opening. The way your legs squeeze around him, trying to keep him from moving away. How your eyebrows squint together and you bite down hard on your bottom lip. "Eddieeee," your whiny and breathy sobs make him almost take pity on you. Almost.
"Eddieeee," He repeated back, mocking the same pout you have on your face.
He drags his cock through your wet folds repeatedly making a lewd wet schlick noise.
" You're bein' mean,' you whine, tears spill down your face again. Mascara and eyeliner ruined in the process.
He stops that cocky grin reappearing on his face. "Is that so?"
You nod, not daring to say a word back. You're getting impatient with him. He's been working you up for what felt like hours now. Your clit throbbing and sore even with the slightest brush of his head making your breath hitch. His precum and your juices smeared all over your pussy. You assumed he's felt a little bad for you, when he starts to slowly pushing the tip of his cock through your entrance. Truth be told he could do this all night long if he wanted.
Eddie stills for a moment, only letting his tip split you open. Your head falls back against the pillows. Finally, you thought, but your relief was cut short when he removed it again. You huff in frustration and let the neediest whimper he's ever heard. Eddie relentlessly teasing your pussy as he slides his length through your folds. Slapping and nuding your clit with his length. Your body all sticky with sweat. Everytime his cock hit your tender neglected clit you begged and pleaded to him. You're teetering on the cusp of an orgasm and he doesn't seem to want to let you. Not right now, at least. He just keeps building it up only to rip you of the chance.
Your face twisting in a grimace. Why does he keep teasing you? You already learned your lesson. You were beginning to think he wasn't going to give you what you wanted after all.
"God!, you're so!-" Your sentence cut short when he licks his fingers and slaps your pussy just hard enough to shut you up. You gasped more so from shock.
The pain and pleasure mixed together was something you never thought you'd enjoy until tonight.
You instantly calmed down.
"Theeere she is." He purrs, pushing his thumb in your mouth as you instinctively suck on it wishing it was his cock.
"Ya ready for me?."Eddie asked, aligning himself back up at your entrance. He removes his thumb, allowing you to speak. A string of spit connecting you to him.
"m'ready." You rasped.
You feel the head of his cock right by your opening. "Oo!, yes, I'm--im ready." Your body burning with desire to feel him. To finally have him.
His thick tip gingerly splitting you open. Eddie getting just a few inches deeper than the last time, but it was enough to almost make you scream. He pauses to put both of his hands on each side of your head.
"Good....because I'm gonna make sure you can't walk in the morning." His assured speaking low.
You knew he was serious about that. You and Eddie have been yearning for one another for so long. You just know the moment he's inside of you, it is going to take all of his strength not to lose total control. You look into his eyes, pleading for him to give you more. You want it all. You need it all. You don't care how sore you're going to be tomorrow. Your brain clouded by lust and the need to be fucked by him.
Eddie pushes in a little more and dips his head to bite down hard on your shoulder. Your hands moving to tug at his hair. The feeling of you tightening up around him as he breaches past your opening was almost too much for him to handle. He can't cum. Not yet. He's just getting started. Eddie tries to focus on anything else. He's talked a big game to you up until this point. He needs to last, but you just feel so good. You're so wet and warm. You hug him just right, and he's not even all the way in yet. You're perfect.
"More." You begged, not knowing Eddie was keeping still for a particular reason.
"Patience baby, gimme a sec." He exhaled a long breath before kissing your shoulder where his teeth marks now were. "Tryin not to cum."
"Shit!, you're ju-just so fucking tight." He grunted.
You didn't know you were having this type of effect on him. You won't lie it feels nice knowing that. You lean up to kiss him. Your lips lazily press to his. You were soft and delicate with him. You moan in his mouth when you feel him pushing in a little deeper.
He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged. He's sinking in inch by inch agonizingly slow. Trying to let you accommodate him. "You're so good, you know that?"
"S-so mmmfph, so good-- jus' for me." Eddie stammered. His jaw tightening.
"Jus' for you." You murmured against his lips.
"Yeah?" Only me?" Eddie questioned his tongue sneaking out to lick your parted lips.
You felt light-headed. Your mind clouded with so much lust. Every touch and kiss from him was deliberate and sensual. From the way he spoke to you to the way he caressed every curve of your body. You've never been touched this way. No one's ever made you feel this like before. There wasn't an inch of skin where his lips and hands hadn't been.
"Only you." You're breathless.
Eddies wild hair fell over his shoulders. His chain dangling by your face.
The events leading up to this moment were almost too good to be true, you both thought. The phone call. The coffee shop run in. The date. Everything felt surreal. Yet here you are together. He relished in how trusting you were of him so quickly.
Eddie kept pushing himself further inside of you until he was almost bottoming out completely. You wince slightly at the sudden stretch and size of him. "It's okay, relax for me." Eddie coaxed you as he tenderly rubbed at your side, helping you relax. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to get adjusted to his size some more. "I-I can take it...fuck, don't stop."
"Oh, is that so?" Eddie taunted.
"Ya sure I'm not too big for you?"
Swiftly shaking your head no. " jus' please Eddie."
You let out another whine, bucking up your hips. His taunting coming to a full stop when he pushes his cock in a little deeper.
"Goddamn, you're tight," He said through clenched teeth. His nostrils flaring.
Eddie carefully pulls out, leaving just the tip in. Only to slam back inside you, bottoming all the way out this time, letting out a long moan as he did. His length stretching your walls, hitting all the right spots. You've never been this full ever. He felt like he was in your stomach. He starts thrusting into you at a steady pace helping your pussy get warmed up to him.
His bed squeaked with every thrust he gave. He pulls his cock almost all the way out and glides it back in with so much more ease now. You're making the prettiest little noises for him. Your nails scratching over his over broad shoulders and down his back. "Mmm, Eddie, you feel so good."
"G'nna cum inside you." He grunted.
"F-fill you up...get you so full of me." He's blabbering, not really paying attention to what he's saying. "Want, ooh shit!-"
His words cut short when he felt your walls squeezing him. His hips rocking harder against yours. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass. The soft curls between his legs getting soaked in your juices. "Need your cum in me pleeease."
"Don't stop, Eddie!" Your throat burns the louder you called out his name. His cock rubbing that spongey spot on your walls just right. You can't think straight anymore he feels amazing.
His jaw clenches, and you can hear his teeth gritting together. "Ya need it that bad, huh?"
"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna give it all to you." Eddie panted his voice raspy.
"You dirty girl." Eddie tried to tease again. He sounded like he was about to lose his voice."S'needy, begging for my cum."
You let out a loud whiny moan when he rolled his hips. His cock hitting a new angle on your walls. He moves to pin your wrists down beside your head. A shiver sends down your spine when he looked into your eyes. He's rough but gentle all at the same time.
Your juices, so creamy coating felt like his cock was drowning in it. His balls and pelvis now completely saturated. The both of you moaning in unison. He pulls his hips far back, slamming them against yours roughly. Your pussy making the loudest pornographic noises as Eddie continued pumping his cock inside you. The sound of skin slapping echoes off his bedroom walls.
"Oh my god!" You cry out.
He grips your wrists tighter, and you feel like your hands are going numb. Your bodies glistening with beads of sweat. "M'getting s'close."
The coil in your belly tightens the faster your orgasm approaches you again. Eddies cock pumping in your pussy at an almost brutal pace. Your breasts bouncing in his face as he pounds you in his mattress. "Gettin close too, baby."
"Gettin reeeeal fuucking close." Eddie grumbled as his hips rammed against yours.
Eddie, let's go of one of your wrists to snake it down and play with your clit. His calloused fingers rubbing tight circles on your aching bud. Your pussy clenching around his length.
"Fuuucking, christ." He cursed under his breath.
Your orgasm approaching you rapidly. His skilled fingers pressed down harder as he rubbed your clit. You throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. Eddie takes the opportunity to bite and suck on the tender skin. Your vision goes black, and there is a ringing in your ears. Your head is blank it felt like time stood still. You cum around his cock hard. Your orgasm hitting you in waves. Your legs shake violently around his waist.
Eddie stops thrusting for a moment to watch you come undone. "That's it. That's my good girl cum all over my cock."
"That'a girl." He praised as your orgasm left you unable to speak for some minutes.
He starts rocking his hips into yours. Your head is cloudy as you come down from your high. Your clit still throbbing and your walls still pulsating as your release fades away. Eddies thrusts are getting sloppier as his orgasm is quickly approaching him. Your pussy squelching louder when his cock glides in and out of you. The sound ringing in your ears. His sheets are an absolute mess from you.
"I-i gon-...I'm gonna cum." He moans fumbling over his words. His cock twitched and with a few more powerful thrusts he's spilling hot ropes of cum deep within you coating your walls. He doesn't stop pumping his cock until he's milked himself of every drop.
He collapses all of his weight on you. The two of you lay like that for a brief couple of minutes. You felt him easily remove himself from you, and you frown at the loss. His cum mixed with yours dripping out of your opening and onto his bed. Your entire body felt weak. His face flushed a light pink, making the freckles on his cheeks more noticeable.
Eddie sits up and moves from on top of you. He reaches over to grab a pre rolled joint and light it.
"Shit." He whispered to himself.
He brings the joint to his dry lips and takes a long puff. "Want some?"
"No thanks." You declined still feel dizzy, almost drunk like.
"Wanna take a bath together?" He takes a few more puffs before putting his joint out in the ash tray. The weed mellowing him out.
"Yeah... but I can't. I don't think I can walk." You confessed. Your legs still trembling from earlier.
He smiles proudly. "Here, lemme help."
Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Eddie walked over to you, helping you stand. Your face heating up when you felt his cum sliding down your legs. "I should probably change these sheets, too."
Eddie helps you to his bathroom and sits you on the toilet while he gets the water ready.
"Come on, lets you in." He takes your hand and gently helps raise your legs over the tub, so you don’t fall.
You sat back and hummed, feeling your muscles relax immediately. Eddie gets in behind you and brings your back to lay on his chest. The warm water soothing you both as you clean each other. You feel like you could fall asleep right here if he let you.
"Hey, I'm gonna go change the bed you stay here." He gave you a long, passionate kiss before getting out of the bath.
You watched him put a towel around his waist and leave. You take the opportunity to clean off your face of whatever makeup was left. Hugging your knees to your chest, you feel sleep slow creeping up on you.
Eddies loud voice echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom startles you awake. "Let's get you dried off."
Your legs much stronger now than they were before. There was a small ache between your legs where he was once buried. You try to ignore it for the time being but you know you're really going to feel it in the morning.
Eddie gives you one of his sweaters to wear, so you'll keep warm. Your dress from earlier discarded somewhere amongst the mess. You jump back into bed next to Eddie. Nestling yourself under his arm curling up in his side. The damps ends of his hair dripping little droplets of water down his chest.
"So, uhh, what got into back there in the van?" He spoke out of nowhere.
"Hmm?" You faked like you didn't just hear him.
"You heard me."
Pushing your face in his side, trying to hide from him.
"What was that?" He jested, putting his hand behind his ear as if he didn't hear you the first time.
"I SAID! I got a little jealous. You huffed.
"Jealous? Of what?" He was in utter disbelief.
"The girls at your show...and that stupid bra on your mic stand." You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Oooh, my god!" He belly laughs.
"It's not funny." You argued, squinting your eyes at him. A hint of a smile dancing on your lips.
"You're right. It's not funny." He chuckles. His hand goes to cover his mouth, hiding his smile.
".....next time they throw their bras at me, I'll just sling shot them back."
"Thank you! That's all I'm asking for." You exclaimed dramatically.
He snorts, pulling you back against him to cuddle. You spent the rest of the night joking and making fun of one another lovingly. He admitted he should make you jealous more often if it gets you to act like that. That was quickly disregarded when you shot him a very dirty look.
It's been a full year since that night. Eddie and you became inseparable. He's since graduated from college and got a good gig as a radio disc jokey for a local radio station. The concept of the show was almost the same, but there were some few minor changes. His "adult segment" got watered down to be more radio friendly. Eddie hated the censorship but figured once he made a bigger name for himself, he wouldn't worry about that stuff anymore.
You were in your last semester of college when Eddie finished. He asked you the moment he got his offer if you wanted to work with him and be his assistant. Not passing up that opportunity to spend more time with him. You said yes with zero hesitations.
"Come on, let me show you our studio." Eddie dragged you into a room filled with various mics and a desk. There was a light above him with glowing orange letters reading "On Air."
The last time you saw him, this excited about anything was when his old friends came to watch him walk across the stage. You didn't think you could be more proud. His eyes lighting up when he showed you the name plate on the door. "That's my name, babe." He tapped on the wooden door.
Tonight was his first show at his new studio. He was nervous but knew most of his listeners were still the same. You sat on the chair next to him. Your short tennis skirt hiking up at little. Eddie kept turning to glance at you while he read from a script. When he would cut to commercial break, his hand would wander up your thigh. You squeezed them shut and smacked him away.
"We can't do that, not now." You whisper yell at him.
"Who says? Who's gonna know?" He whispered back.
He bites his lip and groans. "Baby, I've been needing you all day."
"Sit in my lap. I'll behave." He pats his thighs giving you an innocent smile.
You knew better, but move to sit on his lap anyway. Your skirt lifted and showed the lace of your panties to him as you sat down.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard when we get home. He promised.
Your eyes widened when you felt his semi hard cock pressing against your ass.
"Ya know what, since you've been teasing me, I think I'm gonna tease you." He said, lowly licking the shell of your ear. One of his large hands running up your thigh to cup your sex.
"B-but I'm not." You tried to defend yourself.
"You are, you know how I get when you wear this." He picks up the hem of your tennis skirt. You do know how he feels about the it. He bought the article of clothing for you for a reason. He never could keep his hands off you when you wore it.
Eddie couldn't keep his hands off you, period, but the skirt wasn't helping.
The ads were still playing over the radio when Eddie suggested for you to announce the next song coming up after his brief segment.
"Wait, I have a much better idea." Eddie leaned to unbuckle his belt and pull the zipper of jeans down. "Lift up for sec."
You lean forward to lift up off his lap. Your ass is almost on full display. The only thing keeping you from him was the sheer material of your panties. You can hear him groan before running a finger along your covered slit. A wet patch already forming very noticeably. "I can't wait to get you home, but this will do for now."
He pulls his cock out from his pants stroking it before running his thumb over the leaking tip. He slaps and rubs it between your covered folds as you lean a little over his desk. He presses down on the head and hisses. You thought he was going to jerk off until he was back on the air, but you were dead wrong.
Eddie pulls your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to him. He slaps his tip at your opening from behind, dipping it in ever so slightly before pulling it away. Your jaw dropping open when you felt his tip nudging in your entrance. Your palms sweating on top of his desk, as you're feeling him part you open. The head of his cock shining with your slick. You can hear him groaning again with frustration that he can't fuck you the way he wants. "Sit on it."
"Wh- now! Right now?" You panicked.
"People are listening, Eddie." You tried to argue, but he shook his head.
"So? That's never stopped you before." He had a point. A very good point. You don't even need to turn around to see the smug, expression on his face. "Come on baby, I just w'nna feel you."
"Okay." You spoke softly, giving in to him.
You help hold his length as he aligns himself up with your opening. You slowly sink down on his length, taking him all in a few inches at a time. You sit down fully on him. He feels so deep this way. Eddie grips your hips to hold you perfectly still. He leaned back in his chair to get relaxed as his segment was about to begin. His eyes are half lidded. Eddie's already struggling not to cum and you haven't even done anything yet. His cock nudging at that sweet spot on your walls. "Ooh!, c-can you just push up a little."
"I-i can't take staying so still...its-" You pleaded. You would do all the work yourself while he continues on with his show if meant you could feel his cock stroking your walls.
He cuts you off.
"Shh, no." He quietly told you, covering his mic up his mic as the show was now starting.
"Alright, every b-body." Eddie tried reading his introductions but stumbled over his words when you purposely clench around his cock.
He shot you a look from behind. You were definitely going to pay for that one. You fidget in his lap, rocking your hips from side to side.
"If you don't keep still I'm gonna bend you over this desk and fuck you live on air." He warned, and you stopped moving straight away.
Was he serious? He couldn't be. You thought to yourself, but if you only saw his face right now, you'd know he was being dead serious.
He cleared his throat. "Alright, everybody, before we get started, my lovely girlfriend here is gonna announce the next song."
"Aren't ya." He thrusts up hard with no warning, making you gasp in the mic. His cock nestled so deep within you. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning out loud.
"Mmhmm y-yep." You knew these next couple of minutes were going to be torture. Absolute torture for you.
You take a long, deep breath.
"The next song....up...is Man in a box." Your voice shakey. Your hands squeeze Eddie's thighs. He's grinding you in his hips and bucking up. You bite back another moan, trying to escape your lips.
"Ah, no honey, that's not the right song. we just heard that one." Eddie's mocking you now. He knows how hard it is for you to keep quiet, and he's doing everything in his power to get you to break.
"Baby, you're being too obvious they're gonna know." Eddie thrusts his hips harder, shaking the desk. A soft moan escapes your lips. You try to play it off and clear your throat. You can feel Eddie laughing behind you. His chest vibrated as he watched with amusement.
You're trying to so hard not make anything noticeable. The people listening have probably caught on by now, you're sure of it.
He leans forward to show you were to read.
"Here, baby." He pointed on the script laying in front of you.
"O-oh, right, my mistake." You swallow hard.
His cock hitting a new angle every time he bucks up. Your head felt dizzy. Your slick making a mess of him and you. You're getting so close to cuming. Your walls so sensitive as your boyfriends cock spreads you open.
You breathe out and read what's on the piece of paper in front of you.
"Focus." He whispered at you.
You nodded rapidly.
"The next song is by the band The Pixies called Here c-comes your man." You squealed that part out when Eddie's hand lifted up your ass and slammed you back down. He smashed his face in your back to cover up any grunts he might make.
He squirms around his chair, holding you tightly to his lap. He lifts you off him the moment he felt your pussy flutter on his thick cock. He knows he wont be able to resist fucking you. Eddie most definitely knows you won't be able to keep quiet much longer either. You whimpered, feeling empty. You were so close, and he didn't let you finish.
"Be a good girl and I'll let you cum later." Eddie struggles to tuck his cock back in his pants with a satisfied grin plastered on his face. There's an aching throb between your legs.
"Promise?" You sit back next him in your chair. Disappointment written all over your face.
"I promise." He pouted right back at you, sticking out his bottom lip.
There were many times Eddie did those things with you live on his show. One time you both almost got caught right in the middle of fucking when his boss was paying a visit. The room was a mess where he slung everything off his desk to lay you on top of it. The other time was when you accidentally hit the unmute button on his mic, and for about five minutes, Eddie's listeners got to hear you both going at it on his desk. The equipment rattling and wood creaking. You begging him to go faster. The sound of his hand slapping your ass from behind.
Yes, he was almost fired from there, too, but he got them more media attention, so he got stayed. His show became number one locally, and then a few years later, Nation Wide.
Eddie would interview big names he used to only dream about. From Ozzy to James Hetfield and so on. He had a personal feud with Howard Stern when Eddie called him out on his show. He absolutely loathed that man.
You and Eddie stayed together throughout it all and even moved in with one another after your graduation. You still worked as his assistant in his now much bigger studio. Everything was going very well for the two of you so far, and you can't wait to see what else the future holds.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#my writing#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x y/n
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my english love affair
cw: MDNI+18, f!reader, strangers to lovers, soulmates au, fluff, smut, maybe slight angst? depends on how you see it lol, fingering (f), penetration, soft dirty talk, a lot (like a lot) of kissing and sharing long gazes, whipped lando again bc im obsessed sorry.
now playing: english love affair by 5sos, let me by zayn.
notes: omg this took so long 😭 i'm not really confident abt my smut, i feel like i'm writing fluff way better but i hope you like it!! i might write a part 2, let me know if you like this one! enjoy🤍
requested by anon | requests open!
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“when the lights go out, she's all i ever think, i can't forget my english love affair, today i'm seven thousand miles away”
the thought of finally going back to his f1 driver life fills lando with excitement. sure, lando loves england — it's his home, after all. but nothing can compare to the rush he feels when he's in an f1 car, traveling all around the world and meeting his fans.
for his last night town, lando's friends convinced him to hit the club. normally, he prefers staying in to rest before the start of the season but a little fun doesn't hurts, right? he won't have much time to do it during the grand prix.
despite his fame, lando still gets surprised when someone recognizes him, especially at the club. he knows he's known for his looks, and he's aware of the attention from admirers, but it still catches him off guard in real life. sometimes, the attention can be overwhelming, especially when he just wants to have a good time with his friends and ends up with some overly clingy girls.
lando decides to excuse himself, seeking some fresh air. the pressure of the coming season is getting to him, and the situation doesn't help. he finds a quiet spot with a few people smoking and making out, leans against the wall, and closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a relieved sigh.
suddenly, a voice startles him from his thoughts, "did your friends force you to come here too?" his head jerks towards you, and you're standing beside him, out of nowhere. he takes time to answer, surprised by your unexpected presence. after realizing that he left you without any response, he clears his throat, a bit confused, "nah, just needed some fresh air" he mumbles, a small smile forming on his lips. you chuckle slightly, and comment "not surprised, having so many girls fawning over you must be exhausting", there's a small hint of tease in your voice that makes lando's smile grows.
finally, as he turns to study your features under the soft glow of the night lights, lando finds himself entranced by your captivating beauty, the grace of your features leaving an indelible impression on him. he can't help but get lost in your eyes shining in the dim illumination, making it difficult for him to look away. it takes him a good minute to quickly look away, thanking the night for hiding his rosé cheeks.
he gazes at the sky, trying to think of something to say that doesn't sound awkward — and also trying to get his shit together. he suddenly feels the need to make a good impression. "i mean, it's not that i don't appreciate the attention, but wow, they can be quite persistent."
his hands find their way into the pockets of his jacket, and his eyes avoid meeting yours, fearing he might get lost in them again. "yeah, i know. they're my friends," you say with a small chuckle, not because he's making fun of them, but more because of the use of the term 'friends.'
lando's eyes widen, and he turns to you, 'i'm sorry, i didn't mean to-' but he stops himself, looking down, feeling too embarrassed to find the right words. you laugh softly and move closer to him, your shoulders brushing and lando can feel his body tense up due to the closeness.
"hey, it's okay. i don't really consider them my friends, anyway," you say nonchalantly and lando lets out a sigh of relief, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "wow, that's nice for them", you both laugh and lando doesn't miss the way you subtly lean into him, your shoulders finally touching. he turns his head away from you, clearing his throat once more, trying to control the warmth spreading through his body.
"hey", you suddenly call out after a minute of tranquil silence and lando dares to meet your gaze, instantly regretting when he's captivated by your radiant eyes. he finds himself unable to look away and you both share an intense, unspoken connection, as if you've known each other for years. everything feels perfectly right at this moment.
"wanna get out of here?" you finally suggest, your words barely more than a whisper, your focus entirely on lando's mesmerizing eyes. you take his hand, both fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces and you let him drag you in the dark streets.
after a walk filled with stolen gaze and silly conversations, you found yourself on lando's couch, engrossed in his f1 souvenirs and you have never felt so much passion, feeling your heart soften every time your see that sparkles in his eyes. lando never thought that his night will end up like this. sure, he might ended up with a girl from the club like he usually do, but this time was different. he never really experienced this; having sweet and innocent conversations with a stranger from a club. the atmosphere is tranquil yet there's a subtle tension in the air.
lando couldn't help but be his flirty self, playfully teasing you from time to time. however, your responses makes him somewhat nervous — it's a new sensation to him, having a girl making him feel this way. perhaps it's the way you gazes at him with patience and attention, your lovely smile that you share generously with him or how closely you listen to his random f1 stories. lando and you end up scrolling through photos in his phone, with him recounting the stories behind each one. he couldn't help but feel his heart melt your reactions; your smiles, your laughs, and your curiosity as you ask for more details and share your own anecdotes.
a soothing silence descended, and the two of you sit beside each other, thighs and shoulders lightly touching. lando struggles to contain the fluttering feeling in his stomach when you turn to look at him. he dares to meet your gaze, trying to focus on your eyes rather than your enticing lips. lost in each other eyes, you can't tear your gazes away. a brand new emotion envelops both of you, one that's strangely familiar yet undeniably unique, as though destiny has brought you together in this very moment and lando can't help but wonder if soulmates might actually exist.
you finally speak, after what feels like an eternity, in a soft voice, "you can kiss me, lando", you whisper like it's a secret. lando stomach tighten and he don't even take the time to answer, gently placing his hand on your cheek to pull you for a shy kiss. your lips discover each other, timidly and your hands instinctively slides around his neck to pull him closer.
you can't seem to get enough of each other, savoring every moment as you explore each other's mouths. lando's hand venture on your hips, and the chill of his touch sends shivers down your spine, as you suppress a soft moan in your throat. the kiss grows more intense, both of you yearning for more. without the need for words, you share an unspoken understanding of each other's needs, as if you've been intimately connected for ages. out of breath, you both finally pull away, foreheads touching, sharing a playful gaze, giggling and blushing like teenagers experiencing their very first kiss.
after one last sweet peck on the lips, lando takes your hand and stands, guiding you towards the bedroom, careful not to stumble due to both your impatience and the lingering dizziness of that passionate kiss.
not wasting time, he gently guides you onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you. he can't resist the urge to pause and admire you, your eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the dim lights. before he gets lost in that gaze, his eyes roam to study every detail of your face, causing you to blush and squirm beneath him. your arms tighten around his neck, and you chuckle, bringing lando back to the present. "like what you see?" you whisper, stealing a smile from him as he draws closer, his lips teasingly brushing against yours. "oh, absolutely," he murmurs before capturing your lips in a kiss. this time, it feels different; electrifying.
lando's hands slips, beneath your dress, and this time a whimper escapes your lips, making lando smirk through the kiss. his hands dares to explore the skin of your thighs, creating an unusual feeling in your stomach — and making your pussy slightly throb. your fingers finds their way into his curls, gripping onto them as the kiss becomes messier; your tongues dancing together.
"just take it off already" you huff and puff, seeing lando struggling and he lets out a chuckle "damn, someone is impatient", he says, teasing you, before finally taking your dress off. his eyes travel your body, and you've never felt so vulnerable, your cheeks burning. lando let out an unwanted groan, completely loving the view and he stares a bit too long until you pull him for another kiss to put him out of his thoughts. he takes a moment to kiss you back and it's your turn to slide your hands beneath his shirt, playing with the lines of his abdomen, making him moan softly against your lips.
after a good minute of kissing and touching, you finally take off his shirt and his pants, on the way, leaving you both in your underwear. lando leaves kisses along your jawline, going down to your chest, his hand sliding in your back to unbutton your bra and the way your boobs bounce out of it makes lando groan, feeling his erection grows. your grip on his hair gets tighter as you watch him play with your nipples, flicking it and licking it and the view drives you crazy.
you moan his name softly, pulling on his hair to make him look at you and you share a long stare, full of lust, both craving for more. you pull him for a sloppy kiss, trying to show how impatient you are and lando gets the message, pulling down your panties and getting rid of his boxers.
lando's mouth leaves yours and is replaced by his fingers, stealing a whimper from you. your eyes meets his as you suck on his fingers and, if they could, his eyes would burn holes into yours. lando found himself getting more and more impatient, the way you suck on his fingers with that irresistible look making it harder for him to contain it.
pulling out his fingers out of your mouth and without leaving your eyes for a second, his two fingers found your hole, slipping gently in it and you throw instinctively your head backwards, a moan escaping your mouth. lando take a good look at you in that position before taking the opportunity to leave kisses on your exposed neck, fighting the urge to suck on it to not leave marks, not wanting to overstep your boundaries.
"feeling okay?" he whispers softly, his breath hitting your skin, making it difficult for you to fight the whimpers escaping your mouth. lando takes a minute to look at you, to make sure that you don't feel any pain or discomfort.
"mmh'yes, you can move, please oh my god" you desperately says and lando can't help but pull you for another messy kiss. his fingers start moving in you, stretching your walls and you become a moaning mess, your eyes closing and lando takes advantage of it to admire you, his moves getting faster and faster.
"are you close, princess?" he murmurs close to your lips, feeling your body trembling and hearing the way your moans gets louder. you can only shake your head; feeling the bottom of your stomach getting warmer and the nickame almost make you choke on your moans. lando slows down to make scissors movements, his thumb rubbing your clit to help you reach your climax. he can't take off his eyes of you, inspecting every aspect of your face; the way your face crunches and your mouth is slightly open to let multiple sounds out of it. he could almost come just by this sight, his own crotch getting bigger.
with a loud and long moan, you finally climax, arching your back and lando plant soft pecks on your neck, whispering sweet words to you and telling you how good you're doing. breathless, you absently stroke his hair and close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the beat of your heart but lando makes it hard; his hands traveling your body and his lips attached to the skin of your neck.
the sudden emptiness when lando pulls out his fingers make you whimper and he lift his head to meet your gaze — he lost count of how many times he got lost in your eyes tonight. your hand make its way to his cock and the sudden touch makes lando slightly startle, a groan leaving his mouth. before you start stroking it, his hand comes to stop you immediately and you look at him, confused and with a hint of worry; silently asking him if you did something wrong.
"wanna fuck you now or i might go crazy", he says, almost whimpering and you slightly laugh, pulling his face closer to yours. "someone is impatient huh", you tease, a small smirk forming on your lips and he can't help but mirror that smirk. "how can i not when you look at me like that?" he takes your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing you again, his body getting closer and his cock brushing on your pussy makes you both moan through the kiss. you take his dick, once again, in your hand to guide it through your hole this time. and slowly, he penetrates you, a long groan escaping his lips at how tight you feel around him and you break the kiss to moan loudly.
"so fucking tight, baby, just for me", he mumbles close to your lips and you can't even answer, too overwhelmed by the way he's filling you — and his dirty words. when you finally adjust, he doesn't waste any minutes and start moving. you both moan in unison, holding into each other like your life depends on it. he watches you go crazy over his cock; the way your eyes gets watery, the way you hold into the sheets — your other hand too busy pulling his hair —, the way you can't control the continuous moans, his name slipping out of your mouth from time to time and encouraging him to go deeper into you. and he does go deeper, slowing down the pace to thrust into you as deep as he can, reaching your sensitive spot.
"right here? like that, baby?" he moans, feeling you tightening around him. his voice makes it harder for you to hold your growing orgasm. your hand leaves the sheets to hold onto his shoulder, your nails crawling into his skin. lando suddenly feels the urge to look at you in the eyes — maybe because his orgasm is getting close too. his hand finds a way to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it gently "look at me, angel", he says in a husky voice that could make you come at any moment. struggling to keep your eyes open, you try your best to hold his gaze, the way he's looking at you making you insane.
his thrusts gets faster and you can't control the sounds escaping from your mouth anymore. you look away for a moment, too overwhelmed and lando's hand travels to your face, cupping it gently to keep it straight "eyes on me, love". you obey, meeting his gaze and it's all too much for you.
you don't even have to use words for lando to understand that you're getting close, the way your eyes gets watery and your body shakes is enough. with his hand going back to your throat, lando accompany you into your orgasm, enjoying the way you scream his name and you manage to hold his gaze. his own orgasm comes a few minutes after yours and he makes sure to pull out before ejaculating, his groans echoing in the room. he immediately falls besides you and you both just stay like this: his leg over yours, your hand still in his hair as you try to catch your breath. lando uses his last drops of strength to grab a tissue from the nightstand and clean his fresh cum on your stomach.
he pulls you close again, linking your legs together and letting you play with his hair. the silence is so peaceful; the warm of your bodies making you both relax immediately. a smile unconsciously forms on lando's lips at the sight of your tired face, your eyes shining in the almost dark atmosphere of the night. you look back at him, smiling back and giggling, making lando raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"what's so funny?" he says, fighting the smile growing on his lips. "i just slept with the lando norris", you tease and lando groans, hiding his face in his arm. "i knew you were a fan!" he replies playfully, playing along. you laugh in sync and lando's heart feels at peace; all the worries about the incoming season completely forgotten. your hand gently plays with his curls as you absently stare at the ceiling, an unbeatable smile on your face.
lando, on the other side, can't take his eyes off you, watching you slowly fall asleep and enjoying your fingers in his hair. and just before you completely close your eyes, you turn to him, offering him a last kiss; so tender and passionate that your hearts both might burst out of your chests. pulling out, lando watches you fall asleep, not fighting the smile on his face anymore.
he usually struggles to sleep before an important day but this time, his mind is only filled with you and this night spent by your side. and just like that, it's lando's turn to meet the sandman.
-
with a groan, lando struggles to reach and silence the blaring alarm. the morning sunlight aggressively shines through the curtain, making him shield his face with his arm, staying in half asleep state for a minute as he gradually gets out of it.
then it suddenly hits him; you're no longer beside him.
lando suddenly starts to panic, jolting him into full wakefulness. he springs out of the bed and desperately search for any signs of you in every room of his apartment but you're nowhere to be found. he mutters curses under his breath, passing a hand to his messy hair — the thought of you messing his hair last night making him even more frustrated. defeated, he returns to the bedroom, his gaze falling on the tousled sheets where everything happened. as lando realizes that he didn't even ask for your name, frustration festered within him, causing him to clench his hair.
however, amidst his self reproach, a small piece of paper on the nightstand catch his attention, and he immediately rushes to it.
"we will meet again, i promise. you're going to kill it, lovely boy. y/n, x"
lando can't even fight the smile creeping on his lips, his heart softening — it was beating way too fast just by the thought of not even knowing your name. he sinks back onto the bed, your smell immediately hitting him and making him even happier. he reads those few words repeatedly and his hands falls onto his chest, holding the paper close to his heart as he whispers your name again and again, savoring its melodious sound. lando can't help but tell himself that soulmates might exist.
"i am going to kill it,", lando murmured to himself, a foolish grin etching on his face.
______________________________________________
part 2?:p join the tag list here!
masterlist
#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1 x reader#f1#f1 fluff#f1 imagine#f1 angst#f1 smut#lando norris smut#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris drabble#lando norris fanfic
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ℬ𝓇𝓊𝒸ℯ 𝒲𝒶𝓎𝓃ℯ 𝓍 ℳ𝒶𝓁ℯ ℳℴ𝒹ℯ𝓁 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇
cw: NSFW
~ You liked modeling enough. It was exciting, and new, and you got to meet a bunch of people you otherwise wouldn't. For instance, if you could go back to the skinny, slightly effeminate brace face in rural Smallsville and tell him he would be hanging off the Bruce Wayne's arm at a promotional after party in Gotham he would laugh in your face. But here you were, and here he was, all 6ft (6'7? 6'8? God he was intimidating) wrapped around your shoulders, two of the girls from the shoot on his other side. You didn't know either of them very well, but they we're kind to you whenever you crossed paths, and it was always nice to see more black models in the industry.
~ So why did you feel so much vitriol towards them? This ugly feeling curling in your stomach every time Wayne leaned slightly towards them, slightly away from you. You chopped it up to star power, pure unadulterated charm that came with being one of the richest men in the Americas, but as long as it had been, you still remembered what it was like it have a crush.
~ It was hard to not have a crush on Bruce Wayne. He was confident, ridiculously so, but not the kind of confidence that made you feel small. When you arrived, he asked you "Do you like dark chocolate? I can't stand the stuff but for some reason people keep giving it to me." You could see he was lying, and that maybe he had just wanted to give you an expensive box of chocolate without making you feel like you owed him anything. It made you feel special.
~ It didn't take him long to invite the whole party back to his manor. His home was beautiful. Like a castle in one of the picture books your gran used to let you borrow from her job at the library. You told Bruce that, and he had smiled so genuinely you hadn't stopped blushing for the rest of the night.
~ You ended up asking yourself up to his bedroom. One of the bottle girls had popped the cork right over you, drenching your pants in sparkling cider. She had been so apologetic, and you hadn't wanted to make a scene, so you stumbled up the stairs in into the nearest unlocked door you could find. You closed the door behind you, stripping out of your soaked jeans to dab them clean in the joining bathroom.
~ "Not that I'm complaining, but I have to say it's not everyday I find pretty boys stripping out their clothes unprompted in my bedroom." You must have jumped about a foot in the air, hiding behind your thread bare trousers. "Oh god Mr. Wayne I'm so sorry, I just needed- there was this champagne girl- and well-"
"Relax, I'm just teasing." You looked at him properly now, his weary tone bleeding past your initial embarrassment. He was propped up against the bedpost, shirtless with one hand clamped firmly over his ribs. There was a mean purple blotch under his fingers, and his chest rose and fell in stutters. He was in pain.
"What happened?" You were across the room the next second, pants forgotten on the floor as you scooted next to him in your briefs. There was a slight blush across his chest and cheeks. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe you were.
"Got into... a brawl. Nothing serious don't worry." You got the feeling he liked that you were worried. You wondered how many people worried about Bruce Wayne. You had seen an older man in butler attire fussing over him when the party first got here. You hoped he was looked after.
"Well... I best get going." You were inches apart now, you could feel his harsh breath against your top lip.
"Best." He replied, curling his lip to mirror your Midwestern accent.
You fell into him first, crashing your lips against his as his arms came to grip your biceps. He lifted you with an insane show of strength, you squealed into his mouth, ending off in a giggle. He gave that genuine smile again.
~ You were straddling him now, grinding down on a ever hardening length. He gasped into your mouth, squeezing almost painfully as he pressed you firmer against him. He was massaging the v on your waist, teasing just above where you wanted him.
"Can I?"
You nodded manically against his shoulder, the both of you generating a frantic energy. He dipped down, palming you through your underwear.
"Protection?" You managed to pant out, remembering every talk your granny had drilled into you since you came out.
"Bedside drawer."
~ 3 hours. You kept going for 3 hours after that. He had taken you, knees pressed up against your shoulders, hitting all the right spots until you had come dry and untouched. He was still hard inside you, panting and you squeezed your way through your orgasm. He was kind, clearly straining to not thrust forward while you were so sensitive. You hooked your legs behind the dip in his waist and tugged him forward. A dare. The result of which had you on your hands and knees panting and keening after your third, fourth? climax. He was good afterwards as well. Sweet. He held your head up as he poured water from a sealed bottle down your throat, petting through your slim locs. You woke up tucked against his side, unsure if he had even slept a wink as he stared down at you. He had to go, but he had arranged one of the cars for you as soon as you wanted to leave. The butler, Alfred, had cleaned and dried your jeans while you were asleep, although Bruce had made it clear you were welcome to his extensive wardrobe. You giggled, imagining getting back to your apartment in a pair of 1000$ tracksuit pants with the ankles rolled up to your calves.
~ When you finally made it back to your apartment, you patted down your jeans, pleading to whoever was listening that you hadn't lost your keys in the chaos of the previous night. Instead, you pulled out a neatly folded parchment paper, thumbing it open to find barely legible handwriting reading:
555-0199
Call me if you liked the chocolate.
END
#dcau#dc#fanfic#bruce wayne#queer bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x male reader#x male reader#x male y/n#oc#y/n#dc smut#x reader#might make this a series idk#romcom tropes
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clarisse is definitely i hate everyone but you trope SHES VERY “10 things i hate about you” PATRICK CODED
OMG I FORGOT ABOUT THIS TROPE. no bc it is SO clarisse it’s insane and i must elaborate
while she’s not necessarily a bully she’s just insecure and her first instinct is violence!
she is just kind of an asshole tho
she standoffish and her reputation at camp is not very positive!
people are just really shocked and all your siblings are SO concerned that she’s like going to punch you in the face or smth???? it’s really funny tbh
clarisse is just SO hard and tough and that’s just her persona and who she is
but you just bring out a side of her that no one else gets to see
well they get to see it from afar
you’ll be like standing next to her table at lunch trying to talk to her about something and she’s like
“hold on pretty girl hold that pretty thought can someone fucking move so she can sit down?? jesus christ.”
or sometimes she’ll just push one of her siblings food away and tell you to sit right on the table
mumbling “sorry sorry” to all of her siblings but they’re used to it
her love language is touch and acts of service so she’s always touching you, any part of your body, always kissing you, and it’s just so SHOCKING
like just pure whiplash she’ll call one of her friends a dumbass for tripping but if you were to trip over something she would catch you and be like “you gotta be more careful, dummy” and smile at you
one of her siblings would jokingly point out how unfair it was and she was just like deadpan
“yeah? she’s the most amazing woman at camp. what are you? you’re not beautiful like her. you’re not smart like her. you’re just….. you…. which is not a good thing”
she’s always just doing things for you
like if you ask her to grab something for you trust it’s getting grabbed
but also like ares kids notice EVERYTHING
you won’t even realize you’re cold or hungry or something and all of a sudden she’s placing a jacket over you or shoving food into your mouth
she loves to feed you but not in a weird way
she just likes to provide for you???? do i make sense???? she just wants you and everyone to see that she’s capable and strong and confident and she can take care of you AND herself
and you’re obviously always so nice to her
like borderline sitting in her lap, touching her muscles, talking about how pretty she is
everyone is like “have you met clarisse before??”
y’all know you on my arm by leith ross? she wants to buy you pretty little things and never ever lie to you
she just gets so BORED with everyone else
like she’s a little bit better to her siblings but still
they’ll be talking sometimes and she’s like oh my god shut up
then you come around and start rambling to her and she does get bored too she’s not perfect but she just zones out and listens to your voice
or sometimes if she’s really bored she kisses you so you’ll shut up
and it’s really weird bc like she’s kissing you and SHES KISSING YOU so you’re like omg and then she’s just mumbling “sorry sorry sorry” against your lips like bae what are you even talking about that???? that was before the kiss who cares
also she has to kiss you before EVERY capture the flag game before EVERY spar or match or else she’s convinced she’ll lose
after capture the flag games that she wins she’s like sitting somewhere recounting the events with her siblings with you in her lap
she’s just obsessed with you really
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo x reader#clarisse thoughts#addie answers stuff!!!
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you like to hold hands, doesn't he?
Pairing: Neuvillette, Itto, Diluc, Childe, Dottore, Zhongli, Wriothesley x f!Reader
DOTTORE
Oh, you just had to see his face when you took his hand in public for the first time, without asking or permission! At that moment, the man immediately pulled his palm out of your light grip, which you were not offended at all, because you knew who you were in a relationship with and it would not be easy with him.
Then you decided to act differently, starting with light touches to Dottore's gloved fingers when you were walking among people. After that, you casually covered his hand with yours when you were sitting in a cafe. And your main triumph was the moment when Dottore himself intertwined your fingers, feeling a pang of jealousy.
It's not like Dottore loved this gesture with all his dark heart right now, but he's willing to do it for you occasionally.
DILUC
Does Diluc need to be persuaded to take your hand? Of course not! It's safe to say that he was the first one to make this gesture in your relationship, and he loves it.
He holds your hand everywhere — at home, just to feel your warmth, on the street, to know that you are close and safe, when you go to bed, you must have tactile contact.
Your interlaced fingers cause Diluс to have a rush of tenderness and a smile on his sometimes sullen face.
WRIOTHESLEY
For the first time, Wriothesley realized that he wanted to touch you as often as possible when you bandaged his knocked-down knuckles for the umpteenth time, after a fight in the ring. You have always acted very gently, soft and delicately, despite the duke's assurances that his hands have long been roughened and you do not need to stand on ceremony with him. To which you always snorted funny and continued to treat his wounds.
For a long time, Wriothesley did not dare to take your hand, precisely because he believed that his hands were too rude, rough and calloused, and he could harm your soft female fingers. Therefore, you had to become the initiator of the fact that your fingers would finally intertwine, that evening when you were sitting next to each other at the table, at one of the receptions in the palace of Mermonia.
ITTO
For all his feigned self-confidence, It was very shy to touch you, and the thought of taking your hand in public drove him to hysteria inside his head. Therefore, Itto came up with, as it seemed to him, an insidious and cunning plan, suggesting that you compare the sizes of your palms.
If the first time it seemed like a nice gesture to you, even the second time you laughed shyly, then after the thirteenth comparison, you began to suspect something was wrong.
On another offer to compare your palms, you refused Itto, and rejoiced for the first few minutes from his confused face, but after a few minutes you felt sorry for the confused guy. That's why you gently said that he doesn't need clever plans for him to take your hand, and you'll be glad of it at any moment.
ZHONGLI
After so many years of loneliness, this man will not miss any opportunity to touch you. He will proudly hold your hand, interlacing your fingers at the moment when you want it. At home, in a restaurant, walking down the street, visiting.
Zhongli has a habit, as soon as your fingers are intertwined, he immediately brings your clasped palms to his lips and kisses your fingers. It surprised you the first time, but now it has become something integral, and Zhongli has never forgotten to make this cute gesture.
CHILDE
What? Just hold hands? Pf, it's too easy for Ajax. Maybe hugs are everywhere possible and the bounds of decency allow it?
Childe does not need to ask for a small gesture there, he himself will take your hand and do it defiantly, literally poking your interlaced fingers in everyone's face, which in his opinion declares that you are only his.
NEUVILLETTE
Judge Fontaine learns everything new and modern, but he considers the gesture when two people hold hands intimate and prefers to do it with you alone. At first, you were offended, although you tried to hide it behind a knowing smile, but when you saw how tremulously and tenderly Neuvillette kissed your fingers when they were intertwined with his, you decided that such intimacy was not a bad thing.
In turn, Neuvillette tries as often as possible to give you fleeting touches in public, and if possible, he is happy to offer that you take his arm.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley#dottore x reader#childe x reader#dottore#il dottore#zhongli x reader#zhongli#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr#neuvilette x reader#neuvillette
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HI NEIGHBOR!
synopsis: your new next door neighbors are…interesting, to say the least.
gojo x gn!reader, non curse AU
You live next door to a strange pair.
Not strange in a bad way, but strange as in they seemed more like brothers or distant cousins rather than father and son. Their attitudes and personalities were polar opposites, not to mention they looked nothing alike.
You’d met Gojo Satoru and Fushiguro Megumi the day they’d moved in, your doorway having been blocked by a couple boxes belonging to your new neighbors.
“Um, excuse me?” You tap the white haired man on the shoulder as he’s rummaging through a box, his back turned to you. He whips his head around, peering up at you over his round sunglasses with a questioning look on his face. You chuckle awkwardly. “Sorry, could you just move these out of the way? They’re yours, right?” You point to the boxes.
A look of slight embarrassment crosses his face and he laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, they’re ours. Sorry about that, uh…”
You figure that he’s pausing for your name, and you give it to him with a smile.
He extends a hand out with a smile of his own. “Gojo. Gojo Satoru,” he says, and you shake his hand. “Here, let me get these out of your way.”
You try to help as he starts moving boxes, only to be met with what you could only assume to be an entire set of Olympic weightlifting equipment with how unbelievably heavy it is.
“Jeez, what do you have in here?” You ask in a slightly incredulous tone. “And how are you picking that up so easily?”
Gojo laughs at your bemused expression.
“Been going to the gym recently. Guess it’s paid off,” he says with a confident smirk.
As he opens his mouth to speak again, a small, monotone voice interrupts him.
“Did you get my books yet?”
You turn around to see a spiky haired kid with a slight scowl standing in the doorway. Gojo jumps as he’s startled, before quickly clearing his throat and recollecting himself with a laugh.
“Just wait a bit longer, Megumi. I’ll get them as soon as these boxes aren’t blocking the nice person’s door,” he smiles, but the kid continues to scowl at him.
Megumi then looks at you: his face doesn’t soften, but you can see in his eyes that he simply doesn’t know how to talk to new people, especially adults. You greet him with a smile and a polite wave.
“Say hi, Megumi. Be nice,” Gojo scolds him lightly. Megumi bows his head, averting his eyes.
“Hi,” he finally says softly.
“Hi Megumi,” you smile at the boy softly. “You like reading?”
The boy nods shyly after a moment.
“Well, I’ve got some books you could borrow if you want. What kind of genres do you read?” You squat down to his eye level as Gojo continues moving boxes.
“…I like science books. And history.” Megumi twiddles his fingers, still not making eye contact.
“That’s so cool! You must be really smart,” you chuckle. His cheeks flush a little. “Wait right here,” you say, disappearing into your apartment before returning with a stack of National Geographic magazines, science books, and a number of other genres that Megumi hadn’t mentioned. You catch the way his eyes light up a bit at the stack, and you smile.
Gojo lets out a relieved huff, having moved the final box into the apartment and away from your door. He walks back out, but the scene in front of him makes him freeze, his jaw going slightly slack.
You and Megumi are sitting on the floor, open books scattered around the two of you, a gentle breeze from the still open door gently stirring the pages. Megumi���s expression shows the most emotion Gojo’s seen since meeting the boy, as his eyes widen in amazement as he reads over the words on the books. His gaze eventually lands on you, and he swears time stops.
The sun hits your face at just the right angle, the glow of your skin damn near angelic as he basks in the light and warmth of your soft smile. He thought you were pretty when he first saw you, but here? You laugh, and all he hears is a choir of the gentlest bells and the sweetest music. He could look at this forever, he thinks.
“Gojo! You’re back!” You notice him standing farther down in the entryway. He snaps out of his trance, the tips of his ears turning a shade darker.
“Y-yeah. Um- what are you- what’s going on?” God, he hates how you’ve reduced him to this. You haven’t even done anything!
“Megumi likes reading, so I thought I could let him borrow some of my books!”
“Really? Cool, yeah, very cool-“ Come on, Satoru, get it together!
You bid farewell to Gojo and Megumi eventually, and Megumi clutches his new hoard of texts as he watches you go back inside your own apartment. He waddles away, dumping the books on the recently set up couch and burying his nose in “A History of Greek Sculpture”. Gojo lingers at the door.
Was that your perfume he smelled? Or was it just the flowers blooming outside? What’s your favorite color? Your favorite food? What do you do in your spare time? What are your hobbies? Are you single? Can he be your boyfr-
“Oi. Grandpa.”
Gojo whips his head around incredulously. “Who’re you calling grandpa, you little brat?!”
Megumi, stoic as ever, looks at Gojo dead in his eyes. “Close the door. You’re letting bugs in.”
Gojo shuts his mouth and then the door.
pt 2?
as of 3/23: pt 2 here!
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commercial
alessia russo x actress!reader (requested)
summary: pairing up with a footballer for a commercial changed your life
based off of the adidas commercial she was featured in before the women's world cup in 2023
you never thought filming a commercial would bring you to london.
being an actress with a hit hbo series and a partnership with adidas kept you busy, traveling constantly between coasts, countries, and continents.
this job felt different. you’d always admired women’s sports, so when your agent called you with the news that adidas wanted you for their new campaign promoting the women's world cup, it felt like an honor.
empowering women, celebrating athletes—it was something you could get behind since its what you cared about. you said yes without a second thought.
now, with a plane ticket in hand, you were ready to make it happen.
the moment you step off the plane at heathrow, london’s summer breeze hits you—crisp, slightly cool, and carrying the scent of rain and freshly brewed coffee. your driver, an older man with a kind smile, helps load your bags, and you’re soon winding your way through the city streets.
as you look out the car window, everything feels vibrant and alive. red double-decker buses whizz by, people spill out of cafes, and there's a constant hum in the air.
despite being a little jet-lagged, you’re excited—more excited than you've been for a job in a long time.
the next morning, you arrive on set for the commercial shoot, and it’s a whirlwind of motion—producers barking orders, cameras being set up, and the smell of fragrancelingering in the air.
a production assistant greets you almost the second you step out of your car, a polite smile on their face, speaking rapidly into their headset.
"y/n, so glad you could make it! we’re just about to start introducing everyone. can i take you to meet the other talents– the footballers i shall say?”
you nod, straightening your posture and reminding yourself to relax.
just another job, just another set. yet the excitement buzzing in the air makes your nerves tingle. the assistant leads you toward the back of the set, where a few women stand, laughing easily with one another.
you recognize them immediately.. lena oberdorf, mary fowler, and alessia russo. you’d seen their photos in the media. never having enough time to watch ninety minutes of football, you still knew how good they were.
lena is first to notice you.
“y/n!! you’re kidding?!!” she says to mary with a friendly smile, sticking her hand out. “nice to meet you.”
you shake her hand, grinning. “nice to meet you too. i’m a big fan of your game.”
“and i am a big fan of yours!!” lena says, seeming genuinely pleased. “looking forward to working with you today. the concept seems fun.”
mary and alessia both chime in their greetings.
there’s a moment of small talk as you chat about the campaign, the concept, and the filming schedule. but as you exchange introductions, your eyes keep drifting back to alessia.
there’s something about her that draws you in—something in the way she carries herself, confident yet laid-back, with a gaze that's intense but kind. and when her eyes meet yours, you swear you see a flash of something else, something that makes your heart skip.
“so, you’re an actress..” alessia says finding small talk, leaning in a little closer. her voice has a certain lilt to it. warm, curious.
“yeah,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady,
“i’ve been working in television for a while, but this is my second sports commercial.”
“oh, really?” alessia tilts her head, her blonde hair falling to the side as she studies you.
“guess we’re both kind of stepping into each other’s worlds for this one. i’ve never done a commercial myself unless it was for arsenal.”
“well, from what i’ve heard, you’ll be great,” you say, and it’s not just a compliment. you mean it.
you’ve heard from your assistant about alessia playing for the england national team. she must be amazing.
alessia chuckles softly, and you catch the way her eyes sparkle, like she's genuinely enjoying the conversation.
“we’ll see,” she says, that easy confidence still there but with a playful glint.
“just don’t laugh at me if i mess up my lines.”
you shake your head, laughing. “only if you promise not to laugh at me trying to dribble a football.”
“deal,” alessia says, flashing you a grin that makes you wonder just how often she uses that smile to get what she wants.
there’s something magnetic about her, and as much as you try to focus on the task at hand, your mind keeps circling back to her.
soon, it’s time to start filming, and the director calls everyone to their positions. the first scene you're shooting together is a lighthearted setup in a grocery store, meant to highlight how sports are part of everyday life.
you and alessia are supposed to be casually shopping, pretending to pick out items until a boy accidentally passes a football to alessia, who starts dribbling the ball fantastically.
the idea is to show how these footballers are stars both on and off the pitch—effortlessly cool, effortlessly themselves.
you’re on the camera for the attention, the familiarity of many people seeing one of their favorite actresses on screen.
as the cameras roll, you find yourself struggling to stay in character—not because you're nervous, but because you're genuinely awestruck.
alessia makes it all look so easy. she maneuvers the ball around her feet effortlessly, as if it’s a natural extension of her body, and at one point, she jumps up and crosses her legs to move the ball up in a seamless move.
the crew claps and cheers after the director says cut, and you have to remind yourself to look casual, to pretend like this is something you see every day.
"you okay there?" alessia whispers when you find yourself staring for a second too long.
"yeah, totally," you reply, trying to play it off. "just, you know, impressed. you're kind of amazing."
“kind of?” she teases, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll take that, i guess.”
you both laugh, and the rest of the shoot continues with an easy flow.
the chemistry between you translates on camera, and the director nods approvingly after each take.
by the time you wrap for the day, you're already regretting that it has to end so soon.
as everyone’s packing up, alessia walks over to you, her expression a mix of mischief and curiosity.
“hey, i know you’re busy with your job but... do you have any plans while you're here in london?”
“not really,” you say, glancing down as you fidget with your hands.
“i have some interviews coming up in new york soon, but other than that, i’m kind of free.”
“oh,” she says, her voice light but her eyes steady on yours.
“how about we grab dinner tonight? there’s this great italian spot not too far from here—i thought it might be nice to hang out without all of the chaos.”
you don’t even have to think about it. “yeah, i’d like that a lot.”
later that evening, alessia takes you to a cozy restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of london.
it’s intimate, dimly lit, with exposed brick walls and a menu that makes your mouth water the second you open it. the conversation flows easily—surprisingly easily—and you talk about everything from football and acting to travel, family, and your favorite shows outside of the ones you’ve been in.
it feels like you’ve known each other for longer than a day.
“so, you travel a lot for work,” alessia says at one point, sipping on her lemon water.
“ever get tired of it?”
“sometimes,” you admit.
“but it’s also kind of amazing. i mean, many people would do anything for the opportunities that i’ve been given—like getting to meet people like you for example.”
alessia laughs softly, shaking her head. “you’re flattering me.”
“maybe,” you say with a playful smile, “but it’s the truth.”
alessia leans back in her chair, and there’s a look in her eyes you can't quite place—somewhere between admiration and something deeper, something that makes your stomach flip.
“you know, you’re not what i expected,” she says, voice gentle but sincere.
“what do you mean?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“i don’t know, someone... a little more hollywood, i guess?” she shrugs.
“i get it. luckily i’m not from hollywood, i am from new york.” you smile.
“that’s nice to hear.” alessia giggles.
the conversation continues late into the night, and by the time you both walk out into the cool london air, you’re standing a little closer than necessary, arms brushing as you make your way down the street.
she walks you back to your hotel, and when you say goodnight, there’s a moment—a heartbeat of silence—where you both just look at each other, and you feel it.
something more than just a bond that was formed in one night.
“goodnight, y/n,” she says softly, lingering for just a second before turning to leave.
“goodnight, alessia,” you reply, watching her walk away, already replaying the night in your head.
the next few days fly by in a blur of filming and hanging out with alessia whenever you can.
you text constantly, even when you're both too busy. a couple of weeks later you’re in new york city with castmates on your show– and alessia is with arsenal finishing the season.
she sends quick messages between training, silly selfies with her teammates, and voice notes that make you smile every time you listen to them.
it’s not long before you’re both sharing pieces of yourselves you don’t usually let others see.
when alessia heads off to the women's world cup with england, you don’t expect to miss her as much as you do.
you haven’t seen her since that night in london. her messages get shorter, more sporadic as the competition heats up, and while you understand—she’s busy, focused—you can’t help but wish you were there to cheer her on in person.
and then, one day, you get a text from her:
wish you could be here. can't wait to see you soon!
your heart skips a beat, and without thinking, you open your laptop, check your schedule, and find a two-week window.
before you can second-guess yourself, you’re booking a flight to australia.
when you finally arrive in australia, the world cup is in full swing.
the streets are filled with fans, the excitement is in the air, and you find yourself caught up in the energy.
on the day of the final, you’re practically buzzing with nerves and anticipation. you dragged one of your castmates to come with you across the globe, just to see alessia live.
you find your seat, your heart pounding as you look out over the pitch.
when alessia takes the field, you can’t stop grinning. you cheer loudly, the sound almost getting lost in the roar of the crowd, but you know she hears you—somehow, you just know.
the match is intense, every pass and tackle pulling you deeper in. but as the final whistle blows, it’s spain who takes the victory, and the stadium is filled with a mix of cheers and groans.
your heart sinks as you watch alessia’s face fall, the disappointment clear in her expression.
as england’s players walk off the pitch, heads hung low, you feel helpless, wanting nothing more than to comfort her.
you’re not sure if she’s even seen you in the stands, and you hesitate, unsure of what to do.
then, you see leah, one of her teammates that became one of your favorites, give alessia a nudge and nod in your direction.
alessia looks up, scanning the crowd until her eyes land on you. for a moment, she’s still, and then she’s moving—walking quickly toward you, her face a mixture of surprise, relief, and something that looks like hope.
before you know it, she’s right in front of you, and you’re pulling her into your arms, holding her tight as she buries her face in your shoulder.
“i’m so proud of you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
“you were amazing.”
she lets out a shaky breath, holding you close. “i didn’t expect to see you here.”
“well, i couldn’t let you play in a world cup final without me,” you say, smiling softly as you pull back just enough to look into her eyes.
“win or lose, i’m here for you.”
alessia’s eyes soften, and for a moment, the weight of the loss seems to lift. she cups your cheek with her hand, her thumb gently brushing against your skin, and you lean into the touch, your heart swelling with something warm and undeniable.
“thank you,” she whispers, her voice filled with emotion. and as the noise of the stadium fades into the background, all that matters is this—being here with her.
“maybe i can stay in london for a while, to make you feel better if thats okay?” you hug her again, holding her knowing that the world cup loss is still in her mind.
“that is more than okay, y/n.”
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coworker!Oscar who is very into reader who really likes him too, but both are very clumsy and oblivious. maybe throw in a company dinner party to make things interesting ;)
♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist
♡ synopsis / warnings: office!au / none
♡ a/n: i hope you like it! thanks for requesting and sorry for the wait.
As he walked into his new workplace Oscar tried to look confident but failed at that. His nerves were barely, but still, visible behind his calm facial expression. The receptionist greeted him with a friendly smile and pointed him to his new desk. Large windows provided much light and an amazing view of the city. But Oscar wasn’t thinking about the view outside. He was far more intrigued by the person sitting at the desk opposite his.
You looked up when he arrived, offering a polite smile as a greeting before your eyes looked back at the screen in front of you. He sat down but after a moment he felt panic run through his veins. He looked at you, your expression was one of focus, but there was a softness to your features that made you seem more welcoming than intimidating. Gathering some courage, Oscar cleared his throat “Uh, hi,” he began, his voice a bit shaky. “I’m, um, new here, and I’m having a bit of trouble setting up my computer. Do you think you could help me? I’m kind of… lost”.
When you saw the nervousness in his eyes, your expression immediately softened. “Of course, I’d be happy to help” you said warmly, standing up and walking over to his desk. “It can be tricky the first time, but it’s really not that bad once you get to know it”. Oscar exhaled in relief, as he watched you clicking. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m Oscar, by the way”. “Nice to meet you, Oscar. I’m Y/N” you replied, offering your hand for a shake. His grip was firm but gentle, his palm slightly cold to the touch.
As the day progressed, both of you settled into your work. E-mails, team group chats, reports - an usual Monday in your office. But you found it different. Every so often, you’d glance up from your monitor, only to find Oscar doing the same. Each time your eyes met, there was a flicker of surprise, followed by a shy smile, before you both quickly looked back at your screens.
Oscar was trying to focus, he really was. The nerves of a first day and ,more importantly, a new co-worker created a fog in his mind. By lunchtime, Oscar was starving, but he didn’t know anyone and the vision of eating alone wasn’t very appealing. Just as he was thinking about what to do you stood up, catching his attention.
“Hey, Oscar,” you said, your voice soft but carrying a hint of warmth that made his heart skip a beat. “I was thinking of grabbing lunch. There’s a really good place not far from here if you want to join me?”. Oscar blinked, surprised at your offer. He wondered if you could read his mind or just heard his stomach growling. He quickly nodded, which came off as a bit too eager “Yeah, I’d love to. That sounds great”.
You both gathered your things and quickly headed out. It was a quick walk and luckily for you the weather was great. The sun cast a warm glow and the not too loud humm of the city left no room for awkward silence.
“You must be nervous,” you said gently, breaking the comfortable silence. “First days can be pretty overwhelming, especially when you’re in a new place”. He lifted his gaze from his shoes only for it to meet your eyes. He let out a small laugh “Yeah, a lot of new people, new place. I’m trying not to mess up”. You smiled “I get it. On my first day I ended up getting lost while trying to find the restroom. I swear, when I finally found it all I wanted to do was cry. So, don't worry, it’s totally normal to feel a bit out of place at first”.
He chuckled at your confession, a big smile appeared on his face. He felt the tension slowly leaving his body.
This became a regular thing for you two. Everyday as the clock struck 12.30 you two got up and headed to get lunch together. This didn’t go unnoticed to the pair of your middle aged co-workers. Soon, whispers about you and “this new boy” became an escape from work among your fellow employees. It was obvious to everyone else that there was something there, but you both continued to dance around it.
One morning, as you were settling into your desk, Oscar appeared with a coffee cup in hand. “Morning,” he said with a shy smile, setting the cup down in front of you. “Wow Oscar, thank you”. You took a sip “You got it just right. Thank you so much”. A big, warm smile expressed your gratitude. He shrugged, trying to act casual, though you could see the slight blush on his cheeks. He had taken a mental note of exactly how you like your coffee a few days prior.
Another day, you went to take a bathroom break and when you came back your previously empty water bottle was filled up. You looked at his focused face “Thanks, Osc”. His cheeks got a bit red at the new nickname you had given him. “No big deal, I went to refill my bottle and I noticed yours was empty”.
Few weeks later, the conference room had been transformed into a lively gathering space, complete with twinkling string lights and a makeshift dance floor. You and Oscar had spent most of the evening together. It was natural to you.
As people began to leave, you found yourself walking outside with Oscar, the cool evening air a refreshing change from the warmth of the party. The streets were quiet, and the city lights cast a soft glow over everything. “I’ll walk you home,” Oscar offered, his voice low and a bit hesitant. You smiled and nodded, moving closer to him as if to catch some of his body heat. The conversation flowed naturally, with occasional silences that felt comfortable rather than awkward. Just like your first lunch break.
When you finally reached your building, you turned to face him. Oscar seemed to hesitate, shuffling his feet slightly before looking up at you with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “I was wondering if maybe… you’d like to have dinner sometime?” he asked, his voice soft but stressed. “Like, not just lunch, but an actual dinner?”. Your heart skipped a beat at the question, warmth spreading through you. “I’d like that a lot, Oscar” you replied, smiling up at him. His face lit up, relief and excitement evident in his eyes. Before you could overthink it, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek “Goodnight, Oscar” you whispered, pulling back with a soft smile.
Oscar stood there, a little stunned, but a broad grin slowly spread across his face. “Goodnight” he replied, his hand unconsciously touching the spot where your lips had just been, his expression dazed.
requests are open
August 22, 2024
#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri blurb
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