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eufezco · 13 days

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I saw your Bridgerton requests were open !

Can I do one for Benedict they’re courting but suddenly he starts spending more time with Tilly so reader starts to distance herself from him and starts to spend more time with Colin and Benedict gets jealous and pulls her away from Colin maybe they’re dancing or something. And pulls her to another room and apologizes and maybe smut occurs or something as a part of his apology ?

If not that’s ok I thought I’d ask!

YOU BELONG WITH ME

—Are you leaving with Colin? —Benedict asked you in disbelief.

You had been talking with Anthony and Kate about your intentions to join Colin on his next trip and it seemed that the older Bridgerton brother had wasted no time in letting Benedict know.

Now you were in a room of the Queen's palace, alone with Benedict and the piano in the center of it. He had practically begged you to give him a few minutes of your time, had interrupted your dance with Colin, and led you by the hand into that room. You and Benedict were the match of the season so the Queen had managed to distract the other guests while you sneaked out of the ball.

—How is it that you care?

—He is my brother.

You raised your eyebrows, hoping for some further explanation.

—You cannot leave with him —Benedict stated.

You shook your head, keeping eye contact with him. His blue eyes looked back at you and you just wished he could see the anger growing on your face.

—Where have you been these past days, Benedict?

He immediately knew what you were talking about.

It was true that he had not been visiting you during calling hours, he had not asked you out for walks, he had not picked flowers from the garden of Aubrey Hall to bring them to you while he had tea with your mama. He hadn't even bothered to put his name on your card tonight to secure a dance with you.

—I have been visiting a friend —He answered you.

—Since when are you friends with Tilley Arnold?

Benedict huffed a laugh. —Why do you care so much?

—Because you were courting me! —If it hadn't been for the loud music in the ballroom you would have sworn that the rest of the guests would have heard you. —A couple of days with Tilley Arnold have been enough for you to forget about me?

—I do not know, perhaps you can tell me since you are the one leaving with my brother to another country —Benedict said ironically.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. On another occasion, you would have appreciated Benedict's lack of seriousness but right in that moment you were angry and you just wanted to get out of that room. You turned your back on Benedict to leave but on your way to the door, he grabbed your hand and made your body turn to him. Your face showed disappointment and anger and he knew he couldn't let you go like that.

—I apologize if I have ever caused you to doubt how I feel for you.

You took a deep breath through your nose. You were still angry but his words definitely made you feel better.

—My feelings for you have not changed —. He continued saying. Benedict began to walk slowly and you took a few steps backwards trying to escape from him until you bumped your back against the door. That didn't stop him from moving towards you. —And I don't think Tilley or anyone else can possibly change the way you make me feel.

Benedict's eyes moved from yours to your lips and you knew what he was about to do.

—Do not kiss me, Benedict, not now.

He slowly nodded, one of his hands pinched your chin so you would look at him. He gave you enough time so that if you really didn't want him to kiss you, you could push him away. —I am going to kiss you.

—Do not —You mumbled, but your eyes fixed on his lips betrayed the words that came out of your mouth and Benedict pressed his lips against yours. His hands went to cup both of your cheeks and you melted under his touch. How could you be angry with him if he kissed you with such sweetness?

Benedict's hands traveled down your body looking for your ass. He gave you a gentle squeeze and with his grip there, he started to roll up your dress to your hips, exposing your legs and making it easier for you to wrap them around his body.

Your hands were around his neck, helping him to hold your weight and also to deepen the kiss as much as possible. He guided you to the piano, his lips moving with yours and his eyes closed enjoying the kiss, so distracted by the feeling that when he sat you down on the instrument, the lid was up and your ass pressed down almost all the keys. You both jumped off each other, scared, but right after you bursted out laughing.

While you laughed and shook your heads, you got up and pushed Benedict off his shoulders, making him sit on the instrument stool. You rolled your dress up so the fabric wouldn't get in the way once you sat with a leg on each side of his body. Your cleavage was just a few centimeters away from his face and he didn't even try to make eye contact with you when your breasts, so enhanced by the corset, were practically in his face.

—My eyes are up here.

—I do know that—. Benedict said while his hands unbuttoned your dress and undid the laces of your corset.

Your body relaxed once it was freed from the uncomfortable undergarment and Benedict's lips were quick to attack your breasts. You took a deep breath and bit your lower lip, Benedict hummed while his lips left a wet trail of kisses across your breasts. Your hands moved down his body until they reached his crotch, he hissed when your fingers traced the line of his hard cock on his pants. You were quick to unbutton them and he helped you pull down his underwear just enough to free his cock.

His blue eyes were finally on yours, focusing on every little expression on your face. His lips were parted as you pulled your underwear to one side and lined him up against your entrance. You looked into his eyes and your lips half opened as his own which allowed you to share a moan when you gently lowered yourself.

Benedict kissed you again while his hands moved to hold your hips and help you move. One of your hands went to the back of his head and tugged his hair at the root. Benedict groaned but his dick jumped inside you.

—Tell me you're mine. Only mine, Benedict. Tell me I'm the only one.

You pressed your foreheads together while your hand kept a firm grip on his hair.

—I'm yours. Only yours —He said with a moan. His eyes closed shut, your body didn't stop moving up and down his cock, and his hands held you tighter. Benedict tried to catch your lips but you tugged harder on his hair and stopped him. You shook your head, that was not enough, you wanted to hear more. —You're my only one. No other woman shall have me the way you have me —He whined.

That was much better. —Good boy.

You allowed him to press his desperate lips against yours. You also allowed Benedict to set the pace, his hips fucking into you, thrusting from below to match your movements. You moaned in each other's mouths. The music was playing loudly in the ballroom but still, you swore that someone could hear your muffled scream when Benedict sunk balls deep inside you.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in some room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in a random room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs. And by the wrinkles of the delicate fabric of your beautiful dress, they would know that it was going to be very difficult to see Benedict around Tilley Arnold anymore, and by the way Benedict wouldn't leave your side during the rest of the ball, they would know that you had no love interest in Colin Bridgerton.

Benedict would make sure that neither you nor anyone else in society would doubt how he felt about you and would assure that by putting a ring on your finger the next morning.

He came with a deep groan coming straight from his chest. You hid your face in the crook of his neck while your legs shook and you felt dizzy from all the panting. Benedict kissed your exposed shoulder as he gave you enough time to catch your breath. He caressed your back and ran his fingers over the marks left on your skin by the tight corset.

You fixed your position on his lap, sitting with your back straight. Benedict was still inside you, not allowing his cum to come out and go to waste.

—You must know that my wishes to join Colin on his trip to Greece have not changed.

Benedict huffed a laugh and kissed your lips. You smiled as well.

—Then I shall join you two. What would people think if you went alone with him? —By the way he asked it you knew that he meant no harm, instead, the tone in his voice was quite sarcastic.

—Since when Benedict Bridgerton cares about what other people may think?

—Since they would be talking about my wife.

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oofthwoods · 5 months

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DEBUTANTE! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: derived from the french language, meaning “a first performance or showing.” the original word debutante referred to a new actress making her first appearance on the stage. or, the one where dreams come true in bahrain.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: just a little bonus, but i picture jasper as kingsley ben-adir (secret invasion, barbie). if this is the first work of mine you're checking, reader is a driver for porsche and the daughter of rubens barrichello!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 5.5k

NO ONE ASKED HER A QUESTION IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.

Naturally, there were many questions about her. How did the drivers feel about a woman joining their ranks on the track? What were their thoughts on the growing number of female fans who were tuning in to watch Formula One, possibly due to the popularity of the documentary Drive to Survive or the historic moment of having the first female driver in decades?

She wasn't sure if this was better or worse than she anticipated. She vividly recalled her first press conference last year when she was still driving for ART Grand Prix. They asked her ridiculous questions like whether it was professional to wear skirts in the paddock (yes), who the most attractive driver was (herself, obviously), and even if her father was disappointed that she reached a milestone in motorsport before her older brother (Dudu, who raced with their father in Brazilian Stock Series. And no, he had already made it clear he was proud of both of them).

In the first few minutes, she assumed it was because she was a rookie. But then Oscar Piastri answered a fair share of questions while looking at her as if he didn't understand why people were treating her like an invisible presence. She would shrug her shoulders and the australian reluctantly answered reporters' inquiries.

She was sandwiched between Lewis, who seemed impatient as time dragged on without any questions directed towards her, and Max Verstappen, who quickly responded to his own questions and showed his eagerness to leave. Two rookies, two world champions, but only three drivers deemed important enough for interviews.

The world-renowned champion's frustration peaked when asked about his recent vacation activities.

"Is this a joke?" he asked. "Do you really want to know what I did on my vacation more than asking her interesting questions?" He gestured towards the girl beside him.

"It's alright, Lewis-"

"With all due respect, Hamilton," one of the reporters interjected with a sarcastic smirk on his face. "I can't imagine what kind of questions we could ask Miss Barrichello besides her makeup preferences or favorite clothing brands."

"How about the fact that I won four championships in a row as a rookie?" She responded with a fake sweet smile plastered on her face. She could accept to be ignored, but she refused to be underestimated. "Or maybe any questions about Porsche joining the grid this year?"

"I don't think winning a championship by such a small margin of points is anything to be praised." The reporter retorted. His expression implied that he wasn't expecting the young girl to comfort him, but he couldn't hold back.

"Really? So we should just say that the battle between Max and Lewis in 2021-" she indicated towards them "-was nothing worth celebrating? Such an uneventful year for this sport."

Verstappen leaned forward, observing the interaction between the girl and the reporter. This press conference just became much more interesting.

"Strong words from someone who has never stepped foot in a race car." He chimed in, agreeing with the youngest person in the room.

"That's not what I meant." The reporter stuttered, noticing the security chief slowly approaching him. The middle-aged man was one of many security guards in the paddock that had known the driver since she was a child, and she knew that one look in his direction and the man would be escorted out.

"Of course, of course," she replied sarcastically. "You mean it's not worth celebrating because a woman won, right? Please, if you're going to insult me, at least try to make it believable. Or better yet, don't speak if you have no idea what you're talking about"

The tension in the room was palpable as another reporter spoke up, "But Y/n, let's be real here. The races were mostly dominated by your teammate, Frederik Vesti or runner-up Felipe Drugovich. Your victories were purely tactical."

She leaned back in her chair with a smug smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? Yet somehow I managed to come out on top every time."

Verstappen nodded in agreement, "She's definitely got a point there."

The press room fell into an intense quiet, causing y/n to regret her decision to do this interview. She knew that this type of situation would become more common as her fame grew in the coming year. She also understood that Lewis would be praised for defending her while she would face criticism for simply standing up for herself against a man who was only doing his job.

The silence was broken by a female journalist in the back, hidden behind the larger, more muscular bodies of her male counterparts. But y/n could never mistake that blonde hair for anyone else. Mariana Becker was a veteran sports reporter, an icon in Brazilian journalism, and a role model for any woman breaking into a male-dominated field.

“I wish I had raised my hand earlier; I didn't realize it would take so long for someone to ask you a question,” she chuckled. "I don't think anyone will object to two questions, right?" The woman looked around the room, and the other interviewers avoided making eye contact with the veteran.

"So, y/n, you've been asked countless times about being a woman in a male-dominated world and the difficulties you face because of it. However, with such a successful junior career full of records, I honestly don't see the need to ask that question again. Instead, I'd like to focus on the positive aspects. What does it mean to you knowing that a new generation of girls can look up to you as an inspiration and be motivated to pursue their dreams?"

The girl's face lit up with gratefulness for the refreshing question and relief that she wouldn't have to answer the same question she had already answered countless times before.

"It's incredibly inspiring for me as well. Growing up in this environment, surrounded by racing cars, I was also discouraged from pursuing this career. But I can only imagine how much more difficult it must have been for young girls who were ridiculed just for dreaming of driving a go-kart. To know that I can play a role in encouraging them to follow their dreams without fear of judgment is truly exciting."

Lewis subtly raised his thumb in a gesture of approval while she chuckled.

"Excellent," said the reporter with a smile. "One more question, how did your father react when you told him you were entering the world of Formula 1?"

"He cried," y/n answered quickly, eliciting laughter from those in the room. "He's quite the crybaby, so I waited until we were together to share the news of my contract with Porsche. At first, he cried tears of joy, then fear, and eventually a mixture of both. That's when he realized that all three of his children were following in his footsteps as race car drivers and that he'd have to pay for everything he put his own father through."

The reporter chuckled along with y/n. Mari had interviewed Rubens back when he was in Formula 1, and remembers clearly how emotional the man always was. The conference went on like this for another half an hour, with y/n answering everything from her expectations for the upcoming season to her favorite tracks and how she dealt with pressure.

The balaclava, damp with sweat, clung tightly to her face as she stood at attention. Her race engineer, a tall black man with a buzzcut and a calm expression, waited patiently beside her. She smoothed down the folds of her crisp, red-and-black uniform, adorned with her country's flag on the sleeve.

"How was the conference?" Jasper asked.

The girl muttered something that Jasper couldn't make out. "That bad? Did they bring up the issue with wearing skirts in the paddock again?"

"They didn't ask anything at first, but then one guy made a comment about me winning the championship by a narrow margin of points not being worthy of praise. Except it wasn't even a narrow margin; Felipe finished about sixty points behind me., and Fred was more than a hundred points behind, despite driving the same car as me" She complained.

Jasper winced. The relationship between the engineer and the driver had been amazing during pre-season tests with the man acting like a friend and a mentor, and they had found a groove to envy.

"You'll need to come up with a strategy for dealing with these reporters," Jasper advised.

"I already have one."

"Really?" He glanced at the clock on the track and realized that time was running out. He handed her the helmet with both hands. She grinned and smoothly put it on. The colors of her country's flag stood out against the black and red of the car, making it impossible to miss.

"Yes. WWJD."

"What does that stand for?"

"What Would Jenson Do. Originally, it was "What Would Kimi Do," but I quickly realized that Kimi would just tell everyone to go fuck themselves, and I can't exactly do that yet."

The garage was a whirlwind of activity, with mechanics frantically making last-minute adjustments and drivers strapping into their cars. The scent of gasoline and burning rubber wafted through the air, adding to the excitement and tension that crackled in the atmosphere.

Everywhere she looked, there were people moving with purpose, each one focused on their individual tasks to ensure a successful first qualifying session of the season. The roar of engines being revved and tools clanging against metal filled her ears, drowning out any other sound. It was a chaotic but exhilarating scene as the countdown to the race began.

"Why not "What Would Rubens Do"?" He asked.

She chuckled. "My dad is too nice. In his only fight in his entire Formula 1 career, he told the mechanic who wanted to fight him to get someone else because he was too small."

Jasper's phone buzzed insistently, jolting him out of his thoughts and reminding him that only five minutes remained until the start of Q1. After the last few adjustments from the mechanics, y/n managed to squeeze into her car and secure her seatbelt. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her body as she prepared for the intense competition ahead.

Jasper rested his arms on the halo. "Don't forget what we discussed earlier," he reminded her. "In Q1, six cars will be eliminated, followed by six more in Q2. This means that the top ten fastest cars will battle for pole position. Based on our data, we are definitely faster than Alpha Tauri, Alfa Romeo, Haas, and Williams - a total of eight cars."

The girl nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to the man as he continued. "At the very least, you and Mick should be able to make it into Q2. We're not sure how Alpine and McLaren are doing, but they don't seem to be as quick as us." He gestured towards the track outside where the other teams were busy with their own preparations. "But we can't let our guard down. Anything can happen during quali." The tension was palpable as they both waited for their turn on the track.

"So, we're trying for Q3 then?" She inquired, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.

"Officially, I was instructed to tell you that Q2 is sufficient, but we can't know our full potential until we're on the track."

A sly grin appeared on her face, hidden behind her helmet. She pushed down her visor, ready to give it her all. "Well, I say let's aim for Q3 then. I want to see what this car can really do."

A gentle laugh escaped Jasper's lips, his eyes shining with admiration. "That's the spirit, echo. Show them what you're made of."

With one final nod, y/n shifted her focus, tuning out the noise and commotion of the pit lane. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, using all her senses to ground herself in the present moment. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled her nostrils as she visualized the track ahead. The deafening roar of the engine drowned out all other sounds, sending shivers down her spine.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio in her ear, sounding like a distant robot. "Radio check," he said, his tone serious and business-like.

She adjusted gloves as she responded, "I hear you loud and clear." Her hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel as she followed Logan Sargeant's Williams out of the pit lane. It was a tight squeeze with the Porsche garage being the newest addition to the grid. She bit her lip, hoping that their placement in the pit lane wouldn't cause any trouble in the future.

"Great. Warm up your tires and then do a flying lap. We want to get a better idea of our potential and avoid any possible disruptions from a Red Flag," Jasper instructed.

"Roger that," she replied, trying to keep her breathing steady as cars started to move around her. She prayed that the onboard camera wouldn't catch her trembling hands as she prepared for her first real lap on the track.

The engine roared to life as she pressed down on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel with determination. The car surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses as she focused on the task at hand.

The wind whipped through, carrying with it a symphony of sounds—engines revving, tires squealing, and the distant cheers of the crowd. Her heart pounded in sync with the rhythm of the track, each beat pulsating through her chest.

As the cars whizzed by, she made a conscious effort to stay out of their way while completing her out lap. It was her first Grand Prix, and she wasn't about to receive an impeding penalty. She could feel the engine roaring to life and her car responding with precision, its tires getting ready to set a time that would hopefully secure her from elimination in the initial round.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Alright, you're good to go. Try your best," he encouraged, his voice filled with unwavering support.

"Copy." She smirked.

The pre-tests and free practice had prepared her for what was to come, but nothing could have truly prepared her for the exhilaration of sitting behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car. The engine purred like a fierce beast, ready to unleash its power at any moment. The sleek body of the car hugged the track, cutting through the air with precision and grace.

As she approached the first turn, she braked hard, shifting her weight to navigate the corner with precision. The G-forces pressed against her body, threatening to tear her away from reality. But she held firm, refusing to let anything distract her from the objective ahead.

She feathered the throttle, feeling the car respond to her slightest movements. The tires gripped the track, providing a sense of stability as she accelerated out of the turn, leaving her the other car trailing behind. Y/n's focus was unwavering, her eyes fixated on the next set of corners, mentally calculating her approach.

The flying lap was over in an instant, and the sound of the cheering crowd filled her ears as she crossed the finish line and set her initial time.

"Way to go, girl!" Jasper's voice crackled through the radio. "You've got P8, I repeat, P8. We're safely into Q2, but stay on track just in case. Prepare for another quick lap."

"How did Mick do?" she asked eagerly.

"P10, 0.78 seconds behind you," Jasper's voice was filled with pride as he responded. Despite his efforts to maintain professionalism, they were both rookies in the Formula 1 world, even if in different roles. "I got a great feeling about us, Barrichello. This could be the beginning of something legendary."

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she waited for the race to begin and she started to feel claustrophobic inside her cramped driver's room.

Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, she stepped outside into the bustling garage. The sight of her team, clad in matching uniforms and working tirelessly on their cars, brought a small smile to her face. As she made her way through the maze of mechanics and equipment, she was greeted with reassuring smiles and words of encouragement.

This was not just her first race, but also the team's inaugural race. In a way, they were all rookies, feeling the pressure and nerves just as she was.

Standing outside, it was clear that several eyes were on her. Some, like the veteran Ferrari mechanics who had known her since she was a little girl, flashed comforting smiles and gave her thumbs up, wishing her the best of luck. Others raised their eyebrows with skepticism, as if they believed her presence on the grid was some sort of elaborate prank that hadn't been revealed yet.

Amidst a sea of red and black uniforms, the bright green outfit of the two-time world champion stood out prominently. Fernando paid no mind to the curious glances from his mechanics as he made his way confidently towards the girl.

"You're not allowed in here, Alonso." She teased, playfully crossing her arms in a gesture that made her seem much older than she was.

"Is that how it is now? You qualify in the Top 10 in your first race and all of a sudden I'm just Alonso, not Nando?" He responded with a chuckle. Clutching his heart dramatically, he leaned back as if struck by sudden agony. "What happened to all our pizza days? They meant nothing to you?"

The character she was playing no longer felt right to her, and the words she spoke didn't align with the expression on her face. She fought to suppress a smile as she continued, "That person you knew, Alonso? She is gone now."

As the man approached, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over her. His dark hair and intense brown eyes were etched into her memory, but it was his infectious smile that brought back a flood of childhood memories.

Fernando rested his hands on her shoulders and held onto his helmet, which puzzled her. With only a few minutes left before the race began, he could have easily stored it in his own garage rather than carrying it around. But she pushed those thoughts aside as his gaze softened and he spoke.

"You were the size of a flea when I met you," he said with a chuckle. She smiled at the memory of their first encounter. She had been just six years old at the time, tagging along with her father to one of his races. She remembered being mesmerized by the speed and energy of the cars on the track, but also feeling a little intimidated by the loud noises and bustling crowds.

But then she saw him – Alonso – standing tall and proud in his racesuit. He had noticed her watching him from behind the fence and had flashed her a tight smile. Somehow, from that one interaction, she had become a fan. From then on, whenever she visited the track with her father, she would always seek out Fernando.

Initially, the Spaniard couldn't comprehend why the young girl found him so intriguing. He knew he was talented and quick on the race track, but children were not his forte. Alonso would often try to distance himself from the girl, offering only friendly waves and smiles. However, when she presented him with a drawing of himself on the podium with a trophy (which he still keeps today), everything changed.

"You used to avoid me like the plague," she recalled.

"That's not entirely true," Fernando denied, but quickly changed his tune when the girl raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I wasn't too fond of being followed around by a little girl. Can you blame me? If anything happened to you, I would have to deal with your father, Michael, Kimi, and all the mechanics that you had wrapped around your finger."

He became somewhat of figure between an older brother and a father figure to her, always ready with words of encouragement and advice.

Now here they were, both grown up and about to race against each other for the very first time.

"I can't believe we're finally racing against each other," she said with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

"It's about time," Fernando replied with a smirk. "I've been waiting for this moment since you beat me in go-karts."

A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the moment. During one of his trips with her family to cheer her on during her junior career, they decided to have some fun and race go-karts. She had managed to beat him by mere thousandths of a second, and she made sure to remind him of it constantly afterwards.

"What's on the agenda for today, Mija?" He asked, looking around at the girl's garage.

"Hah, like I would share that with you. I love you, Nando, but now we're competitors." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're just trying to take advantage because we're close."

"You got me." He chuckled, knowing it wasn't entirely true.

She sighed and crossed her arms with a hesitant expression. "Rule number one is to not crash into Mick. Number two is to avoid crashing into anyone else. Our team isn't expecting a stellar performance, so if we can maintain our starting positions, both cars will score points. That's our main goal."

"Oh, come on. Don't you want to try overtaking someone?" he prodded.

Y/N laughed. "Why? You want to see me in your rearview mirror?"

"Of course I do," he admitted. "Competing for a win with you would be incredible."

He pushed his helmet towards the girl, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Confused, she tilted her head in question. “I appreciate the gift, but I think you’ll need it today.”

Fernando laughed, memories flooding back to him. “Remember when your dad retired and you started coming to races with me?”

The memories flooded back, of her father's days in the high-stakes world of Formula 1. Though he had since retired, Fernando still managed to convince Rubens to allow her to travel with him to races closer to her home, and sometimes even to the grand prix in his homeland.

She quickly caught on to his request and playfully darted away from him before snagging the helmet. It had become a tradition since she was ten years old, and Fernando had unofficially taken on the role of her godfather. She used to do this same routine with her own father, so it felt natural to continue with the spaniard. He stood there, slightly perplexed, wondering if he had said or done something wrong. But just moments later, the young girl returned with her own helmet in hand.

"Wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same for me this time?" she asked playfully.

The two exchanged helmets and planted a kiss on the part of the helmet that would soon cover each other's foreheads.

"Stay safe, Nando"

"You too. Give us hell"

"It's an easy overtake for Barrichello in the Porsche, and she takes the position from Lance Stroll in the Aston Martin!" David Croft's voice rings across the circuit, and the crowd roars, the flags from her country and Germany flying around.

"Great job!" The voice of her race engineer appears in her ear, breaking through her intense concentration. "Russell is 1.2 ahead, close the gap to be able to use DRS when it is enabled."

"Copy" she nods, instinctively, her eyes never leaving the track ahead. She knows what she needs to do, and she pushes her car to its limits, weaving through the curves and straights with precision and skill.

As she closes the gap between her and the british driver, she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She's in her element, in the midst of the intense competition that she lives for.

"0.7. Go for it, elbows out" Jasper said again.

The cheers of the pit crew resounded in her ears as she used the extra boost to overtake the Mercedes. It was a challenge to defend against George's attempts at whiplash and reclaim her position, but once they were off the main straight, she managed to create a considerable gap between them.

The rest of the race flew by in a blur. The girl lost track of her position, constantly overtaking some cars only to be overtaken shortly after. However, Jasper's encouraging words kept her going.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio as she approached the final stretch of the race. "Virtual safety car, slow down," he instructed.

She quickly checked her rearview mirror, looking for her teammate. "Is it ours?" she asked.

"No, it's Leclerc in the Ferrari," Jasper replied, "which puts us in fifth place."

She could see Hamilton was more than five seconds behind, and the yellow flag meant that Alonso was slowing down ahead of her.

"As soon as the VSC is lifted, you'll have a clear shot to overtake," Jasper added.

Who would have thought that she would be right on Fernando's heels after all?

After a few laps of caution due to the previous incident, the green flags were waved and she wasted no time in accelerating towards the Aston Martin driven by the Spaniard. She steadily closed the gap between them until she was right behind him. However, just as she was about to make a move to pass him, he outmaneuvered Carlos Sainz's Ferrari.

In a swift and calculated maneuver, she positioned her car on the inside of Sainz, who seemed too focused on reclaiming his position to check his mirrors. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse of attention, she quickly overtook him.

Jasper's voice was filled with excitement as he shouted, "That's it, echo! What a fantastic move!" She could almost hear the smile in his tone. "Alonso is already ten seconds ahead, so concentrate on defending now."

The final laps seemed like a blur, the girl steadily increasing the gap between her and the Ferrari with each lap.

"It's a flawless performance from Porsche, with both cars scoring points on this historic day. Mick Schumacher equals his best career finish with an incredible P6, and Y/N Barrichello takes fourth place, becoming the first woman to score in a Formula 1 race since Lella Lombardi and achieving the highest position for a woman in history!"

The sound of the bustling cheers from the Porsche garage fills her ears as she struggled to park the car with trembling hands. “Unbelievable! P4, y/n, P4! We scored 21 points and Mick got the fastest lap. What a start,” Jasper exclaims over the radio.

She stepped out of the car on shaky legs and is immediately greeted by Carlos, who had parked his car behind hers. “Where did you come from?” he asked with a chuckle. “I was trying to overtake Fernando, and suddenly you were right beside me.”

She took off her helmet and balaclava, her hair damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead and neck. She culdn't help but laugh. "Next time, check your mirrors," She teases her good-naturedly.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. The sweat that coated both of them didn't matter, nor did the fact that she still needed to weigh herself. She squeezed Mick even tighter and they both seemed too overjoyed to let go.

He took a step back but kept his arms around her. "Fourth place in your first race! I told you not to worry," the German exclaimed proudly.

"And look who's talking with the fastest lap!" She laughed in agreement. "We did it, Mick. We fucking did it."

A bottle of water suddenly appeared in her line of sight, and she turned to thank the person who handed it to her. To her surprise, it was Lewis with a smile on his face.

"If you had just overtaken one more person, you would have joined the club," he joked, pointing to Kevin Magnussem, who appeared to be deep in conversation with his teammate. "It was quite a race for the two of you."

"Honestly, I wasn't expecting to end up anywhere higher than where I started, so P4 is already a great achievement," she replied with a laugh as she took the cold bottle from him. The girl then turned to Lewis again and asked about his own race.

"P7. Mick managed to pass me on the last lap," he responded, glancing over at the young driver who chuckled in response.

The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins as y/n made her way to the weighing machines. She couldn't believe it, a P4 finish on her debut race. It seemed like a dream come true.

She stepped onto the scales, trying to calm her racing heart. The number flashed on the screen, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, just made it," she muttered to herself.

Grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat from her face, she quickly discarded her race suit at her hips, and made her way to her garage in her white fireproofs.

To an outsider, it might have seemed like the team had just won a world championship, not a P6 and P4. People were clapping her on the back and embracing Mick, and she struggled to decipher the various voices exclaiming with joy.

Jasper appeared in front of her with a bottle of champagne in hand. "Congratulations y/n, you did amazing out there!" he exclaimed before popping open the bottle and spraying champagne everywhere.

She laughed as some of the bubbly liquid hit her skin. "Thanks Jasper! I couldn't have done it without your perfect strategy. Great call with the tyres"

He grinned at her before turning serious. "But seriously y/n, you did a great job out there. We're all so proud of you." The rest of the team joined them in cheers and congratulations.

Before they could continue their conversation, Adrian, the team principle, arrived at their garage looking ecstatic. "Great job everyone! A double-points finish for our debut race, this is just the beginning." He raised his glass of champagne before taking a sip.

Y/n looked around and couldn't help but feel proud of her team. They had come a long way since their first tests together. And now here they were, competing in one of the most prestigious racing championships in the world.

Adrian turned to her with a smile. "Y/n, I must say you exceeded all expectations today. You have proven yourself as a valuable addition to our team." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep up the good work."

She couldn't help but blush at his words and nod gratefully. This was everything she had ever dreamed of - to be part of a successful racing team and make her mark in the sport.

As the celebrations continued, y/n couldn't help but think about how far she had come. From fighting for sponsorships to competing against some of the best drivers in the world, it felt like a dream come true.

But amidst all the excitement and joy, there was still one thing weighing on her mind - her family. She missed them terribly and wished they could be here to witness her success.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

"Muito orgulhoso de você filhota. Eu sabia que você ia arrasar! Me liga quando acabar tudo aí" — PAPAI. (so so proud of you, baby. i knew you would rock it! call me once you're done with everything there.)

Soon after, her older brother's name appeard on her phone as well. A quick congrats was followed by a video. Tapping on it, she couldn't contain the tears as she watched her father by the TV, holding tightly their flag and exploding in joy as the checkered flag was waved and his daughter finished in fourth.

He erupted with happiness, leaping and embracing her siblings and close friends who had gathered to witness her debut. He would excitedly point towards the television, shouting with pride, "There she is! My little girl!"

A big smile crept onto her face as she quickly replied back with an update on how things were, and a promise to video call her family as soon as she was cleared from the media.

"Time for the boring stuff now. Ready for the interviews?" Mick pulled her out of her thoughts. He had his phone on his hand, and she imagined he was also communicating with his family. "I can go first, if you want."

She took a deep breath, and smiled. "It's okay, i'll go. There's nothing they can say that could ruin my day. Not anymore."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley, @stinkyjax, @namgification, @judespoision, @cha-hot, @disneyprincemuke, @itsjustkhaos, @trouble-sistar, @ihateyougunthersteiner, @treehouse-mouse, @cherry-piee, @fangirl125reader, @cassie0sstuff

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hannieehaee · 7 months

Note

hi good morning! (or afternoon or evening)

how about a svt scenario thing where you’re an idol (and dating them) and you get injured by a crazy saesang that’s obsessed with your s/o?

basically, y/n is an idol in a popular group and at a fansign event, a saesang rushes towards her and attacks her, injuring her with smth (there’s blood) and vroom hospital etc etc. how would svt react?

idk this has been my brain-worm for the past few days

thank you 😊 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

a sasaeng attacking their idol!reader gf

content: mentions of stalking, mentions of being attacked, mentions of injuries, mentions of hospitalization, reader is an idol, a lil angsty, etc.

wc: 1559

a/n: thank u so much for ur request! sorry for the delay hehe (these scenarios are assuming ur relationship is public knowledge btw <3)

masterlist

seungcheol -

no one had ever seen him this angry. even his members kept away from him upon noticing his furious demeanor after getting a call from your manager informing him that you had been taken to the hospital to tend to some bruises and scratches you had undergone after one of his stalker fans had quite literally jumped at you from across the table, having made themselves pass as your fan. would not comment on it publicly, simply choosing to cut his promotions short and taking a quick break to tend to you. the only thing to alleviate his anger would be your presence and knowing that you were now safe. would demand both pledis and your own company enforce better security, incredibly frustrated that you even got a single scratch on you due to their negligence.

jeonghan -

not being one to hide his emotions from fans, he would express frustration at it, mentioning it on live when consistently questioned about it. would state his disappointment, but would make it clear this was directed at fans who knew their actions were morally wrong. he would probably not do much about it other than make sure your security amped up, not wanting to get in the way of your own idol career or draw more attention to this, but having your security as top priority. would put extra focus in babying you and tending to you at any and every moment he was off work.

joshua -

he'd be very emotionally affected by it. you'd be able to tell by his quieted down demeanor after the incident that he felt put off by any public appearance, thinking that anyone around him could be a crazed fan who wanted to inflict pain on his loved ones. would continue schedules as normal, but his personality would remain tame for a while, while he recovered emotionally from the guilt he felt at indirectly putting you in danger. he'd feel extremely apologetic towards you, even if you told him you were fine and did not blame him for any of it.

jun -

his lighthearted demeanor would shift immediately. he would take a hiatus, taking you with him to china so he could have you to himself for a month or so. would not care about any repercussions to his idol career, considering your safety the top priority. would become serious for a while, only bringing back his loving and playful personality when interacting with you or any of his other loved ones. would never speak about this publicly once he came back from break, simply acting as if nothing happened. he would've had to demand both your company and pledis amp up any and all security for you the moment you came back from your own hiatus.

soonyoung -

the usually lighthearted and silly boy would turn stoic for a while. he'd never express his frustrations outwardly, but would now feel a constant sense of disappointment at both himself and at any crazed fan who would ever dare even think of putting their hands on you. would be super apologetic to you, begging you to not end it because of this incident. the only thing that would calm him down would be your reassurance that it'd take far more than one obsessed fan to drive you away from him. would dedicate all his free time to you and take on a more protective attitude towards you.

wonwoo -

would probably go on a short hiatus. you were one of the most important people in his life. he had kept the relationship secret as much as he could, but after dispatch outed you two as a couple, you had begun to receive more threats than usual. now not only from your own stalker fans but from his too. would be absolutely devastated he was the cause of your pain. he could never leave you out of his sight again, feeling an innate need to protect you. would stay gone and just be with you for a few months before returning to his idol duties, never speaking publicly about what happened.

jihoon -

pure disgust and annoyance. the same way he calls out sasaengs on live for pestering him with calls, he would bring this up too. saying that he's tried to ignore it but that some things go too far. would feel bad if any other carats felt uncomfortable by his scolding, but would feel so incredibly frustrated the love of his life was put in danger due to someone liking him way too much for safety. scared you might feel like this is too much to deal with, but would respect if you decided the relationship was just not worth the pain. would thank you immensely the moment you told him he's worth all hurdles, that you simply needed better security.

seokmin -

it was rare to see seokmin angry, and he had never been this angry. fans would be able to tell after the incident that his demeanor had shifted completely. would take him about a week or so to go back to his bubbly self while in public, having gotten the scare of his life when he got a call from your manager claiming that an obsessed dk fan had launched at you at a fansign, makeshift weapon in hand as they managed to mangle some of the skin of your arm before being swiftly taken away by security. he wouldn't go on hiatus, but he'd spend every passing minute with you as he apologized and reassured you no one would ever hurt a hair off your head ever again.

mingyu -

would also go on a quick hiatus. he hates calling out crazed fans, knowing it only incites them to do deranged things like this even more, being aware that they'll do anything to get a reaction out of him. so he wouldn't give them one. he would simply step back from idol duties for a while, joining you in your own hiatus as you emotionally (and physically) recovered from the attack. would try and give you an out, telling you that if dating him put you in danger then maybe you should reconsider your options, he would always love you but he would understand. would feel instant relief the moment you cursed him out, telling him a few injuries were not enough to drive you away. he'd swear to never let you out of his sight again.

minghao -

another member who would be extremely angry. would do his best to stand by you and show his support towards you even if it meant putting your relationship even more into the public eye. you would be his one and only priority. he would bring it up at some point in an interview or statement, airing out his frustrations at sasaengs who thought of him as anything more than an idol. would put a brake on fan-idol interactions even more now, now even toning down most of his fanservice to avoid fans getting the wrong idea that he'd ever look their way when he had you.

seungkwan -

just absolutely terrified. he'd never felt more fear in his life than the moment his manager informed him of the news that you were in the hospital due to one of his stalker fans attacking you. would feel incredibly guilty and beg you for forgiveness as he visited you at the hospital. the only relief he felt at the situation would be your insistence in telling him you were fine and that this would not break your relationship. he'd become overly attached and protective of you, demanding his own company to provide security for you, claiming that this was a personal issue and that he would not rest unless you were as protected as possible.

vernon -

would be brooding and cold for a while. he would've dealt with the situation behind the scenes, not wanting anyone to see his reaction, knowing that acknowledging the situation publicly would only cause more crazed fans to try and do the same. he'd back away from the public for a while, only participating in any mandatory schedules and even then he would keep himself hidden in the back as much as possible. would feel a little guilty for technically punishing all fans when it was only a few who acted like this, but would need some time to recover from having put the love of his life in danger.

chan -

this was brand new territory for him, so he would feel absolutely taken by surprise. he never would have imagined someone to try and come after the love of his life, much less under the claim that it was for his own good. no words could describe the guilt he felt at seeing you at the hospital, scratches in your face showing the damage the fan was able to inflict before security pulled them away. would curse at your security team, claiming this couldve been way worse, and that they risked your life. would also apologize for his part in it, knowing that if he was out of the picture this never wouldve happened. would take a short break from idol activities to spend a week with you holed up at a safe location, spending the entire time showing you how much he cared for you and how he would protect you from now on.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt reactions #svt scenarios #seventeen angst #svt angst

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girlokwhatever · 19 days

Note

can i request a paige smut where like the reader had pissed her off BADDD (in whatever way you see fit) and so paige fucks her with the strap BUT the reader keeps like pushing at her abs and ahitbtryna het her to slow down which in return pisses her off more…pls :)

i love you 😭

₊⊹༉‧₊˚.˚ · .ׂׂૢ·˚ ༘ you can take it,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

“i don’t wanna talk to you dude.”

paige was absolutely furious. you missed one of the biggest shots of her career— a score-tying buzzer beater that ended up saving her team and securing them a win in overtime— all because you were talking to a guy in the stands. she was so excited to talk to you about it, for the both of you to share that excitement. so you could imagine her disappointment in hearing that you didn’t see it.

“paige are you serious? i’m sorry alright? i got to see it on the replays, it was really good.”

you try to reach out for her but she shrugs you off again, and now you’re pissed too. the guy was your classmate that spotted you in the crowd and wanted to say hello. you had apologized about a trillion times for missing the shot, still affirming to her how awesome it probably was in the moment.

it only made her feel worse when the guy approached you again at the end of the game. hadn’t he taken enough of your attention already?

“just leave me alone. if you want to be entertained just go talk to that guy again anyway. let him stare down your shirt for all i care.” paige throws her shirt into a corner of your room, littering her sweaty garments around your room.

“is that was this is about? a guy?”

she rolls her eyes, flopping onto your shared bed. she scrolls through her phone to avoid your gaze because she doesn’t want to say something she regrets. her legs are spread, creating space that in any usual situation you’d gravitate towards.

you stupidly decided to tease paige after finding out the true root of her anger. half-naked, you crawl towards her legs on the bed and seat yourself right on her lap. your hand pushes her phone away for her undivided attention.

you were probably going to regret this later.

“you know what we were talking about?”

she knows she shouldn’t give in just by the look in your eyes, but she does anyway. she’s a sucker for you.

“well he kept asking if i wanted to leave with him. i told him i had a girlfriend but he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” you lean closer, lowering your voice, “you know what he told me paige?”

“what?” she’s near breathless, anger still lingering because this guy seems like a douche.

“he told me he’d fuck me so good if i left with him. said he’d fuck me better than you ever could.”

“fuck off. don’t fucking piss me off.”

“he was cute. maybe-”

“paige!”

she’s rutting into you relentlessly, the same way she has been for the past hour. you’ve been squeezing around her strap like a vice the entire time from one position to the next.

after you teased paige earlier all she saw was red. she knew it wasn’t true, but the fact that you even uttered the words had some insane affect on her. she instantly had you on your back, purple strap heavy between your thighs. ever since then she’d been thrusting into you, never stopping or letting up unless she was finding a new angle.

she’d effortlessly coaxed you through three orgasms already and you were definitely feeling the effects. your thighs shook as she held them flush to her body, eyes glued to your face that was twisted together with pleasure.

you were so fucked out you hardly realized your girlfriend’s hand trailed down to the heat between your legs. her thumb rubbed sloppily against your throbbing clit, your eyes shooting open with a pornographic moan. the feeling was overwhelming and made your body shake even worse because, how many times had she done this?

“oh fuck- paige i can’t..”

“yeah you can baby. want you to cum for me.”

your orgasm feels different this time, sensitivity heightened and you can’t control it. she’s so deep and she’s filling you so good, thrusting hard and with so much purpose.

“bet that guy couldn’t make you feel this way huh?”

you’re nodding at her words because she’s right. no one has ever or could ever make you feel better than she does. she knows it.

paige continues stimulating your already over-sensitive bud, pressing harder and faster to match the pace of her hips. you moan out a high-pitched screech and mumble incoherently as your back arches off the bed so much paige has to push you back down. the pressure on your stomach sends you over the edge, sheets tight in your grasp as you finish.

she soothes your sides by running her hands up and down your body, slowing her thrusts but never stopping. you’re attempting to push your body up the bed but her grasp on you is firm and bruising.

“one more baby.” you’re still delirious from the last orgasm and she’s already speeding up her pace.

fuck her and her cardio.

you finally let go of the sheets, reaching out to push at your girlfriend’s abs. “paige please, i can’t. s’too much p.”

she’s immediately pulling your hands away, pushing them above your head as she leans over to whisper in your ear, “you can take it.”

she’s offended that you even suggested you couldn’t. her large hands find your hips again, pulling your body further down the bed and onto her silicone dick. your mouth fell open with a moan and you didn’t know if it was from the feeling of her splitting you in half or her persistence. probably both.

“tryna push me away,” she groans, “don’t be stupid baby.”

she pulls your legs over her shoulders with urgency as she snaps her hips against your own. the burn is finally catching up with her but she doesn’t even care because all she can focus on is you and the way you’re moaning her name.

you gush around her, cum dripping and soaking your sheets. the shake of your body vibrates against paige and encourages her to thrust impossibly faster, a whine escaping past your lips. she’s too good.

the all-too-familiar feeling forms deep in your abdomen again. you shift your hips, chasing your release as your hips angle down. paige’s last thrust makes you cry out, the bubble of anticipation for your orgasm popping. even paige moans as she stills because she swears she can feel you throbbing around her.

a sigh escapes you when paige pulls out. you feel incredibly empty after being filled for so long, a quiet whimper sounding through the room at the new feeling.

paige slips the strap off quickly. once she does, she resumes her previous position between your legs. she’s being gentle as her hands glide over your skin to massage the ache away. it’s a large contrast to her harsh thrusts only minutes ago.

“you did so good, ready to go again?”

“again?” you’re in disbelief as her legs slot with your own, leaning back ever-so-slightly so her pussy meshes with your own. the feeling makes your legs twitch and you’re already moaning at the barely-there friction.

“you didn’t think that was it, did you?”

₊⊹༉‧₊˚.˚ · .ׂׂૢ·˚ ༘

i hope i did this request justice!!

actually partially spell-checked this time 🤗

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lesbian #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers imagine #paige x reader #wlw slay #wlw imagine #bisexual

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lighteyed · 11 months

Text

can it be easy this once? / steve harrington

summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)

unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy

It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. It’d been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately it’d felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like you’d never met a form of closeness you didn’t cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You weren’t sure, you could never tell.

The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesn’t betray much, just as he attempts to. It’s a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresser’s drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasn’t as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.

Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Don’t love anyone, don’t let anyone love you, and you won’t get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasn’t letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.

He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. “You okay? You’re quiet.” He sits up so he’s level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didn’t entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where it’s caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid he’s the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that aren’t in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You can’t be normal when he’s holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.

“I’m fine, I’m just…” You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. You’re not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And it’s not sex every single time. You drag him to see whatever’s playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when it’s just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates what’s playing. It’s nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship you’d be willing. He’d be willing. You consider it. “Nothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,” you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and it’s half-hearted and he knows it.

“What? You can sleep here, you know that,” he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, he’s so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.

“No yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,” you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.

“That Stephen King scary clown book? I’ll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you don’t get scared,” and he knows you won’t get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesn’t want to be alone. Why would you go when everything’s right here? His parents aren’t home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. “Did I- did I do something?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.

You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. “No, of course not, it’s all me, okay? I’m all sweaty and awful.”

“You look beautiful, I swear,” he squeezes your hand and you feel like you’re drowning. It’s hard to breathe, your chest tight. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can talk to me, it’s me.” He scoots closer, if that’s possible. “You’re one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.” You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.

“You do this with all your best friends?”

“Well, no, Robin wouldn’t touch me even if she didn’t like girls-“ He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.

“Steve!” You’re laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What’d you mean, then?” He’s still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You don’t know if it’s deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though he’s making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.

“I just think, I don’t know… you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

“’Course not, why, you got other plans after this?” He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.

“Steve,” you whine, “I’m so serious right now.”

“Okay, okay. No, you’re the only one for me.” He means it. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He asks you like it’s the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly he’s shitting his pants a little. He’s not sure what’d he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where he’s assuming the conversation is going. You’ve got we shouldn’t do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and he’s steeling himself for the heartbreak.

“Does it look like I am?”

“Does it look like I am?” He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. “What’s this about?”

“I just, I just think, that, you know, I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re not seeing anyone, but we’re sorta… seeing each other, yeah?” You gesture between the two of you. He nods. He’s staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. He’s still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so he’s not expecting what comes out of you next. “Shouldn’t we be, like, official, then?”

And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because he’s stupid and speechless, “Official?” And the way he says it, like it’s a curse when it’s only his disbelief that you’d want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.

He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. “Fuck, forget I said anything,” you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where you’d comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.

“Hey, wait, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that-“

“It’s fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isn’t that for you, it’s fine-“

“It is, it is-“ but you’re not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. It’s in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, “I’ll drive you home, babe, c’mon, I’ll explain everything, please-“

“I got it, it’s fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to explain, okay? I got it,” and you don’t just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steve’s heart with you.

He’s pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.

“What did you do?” She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.

“What? How do you know it was me?” He stops pacing. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

“You’ve had three shifts and she hasn’t visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didn’t do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, what’d you do?” Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.

He huffs, his hands on hips. “Maybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?”

“Definitely not,” Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.

He deflates. “Okay, it was me.”

“I know that, now continue.”

“We were, you know,” he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.

“Having sex, sure,” Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.

Steve shushes her. “I wasn’t trying to say it so loud.”

“Having sex,” Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steve’s exasperated expression, “continue.”

“Well, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course I’m not, because, you know, I’m into her, obviously, so I told her I wasn’t, and she said she wasn’t, so she said maybe we should be official.” Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still can’t believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he could’ve said to make you understand.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? She’s all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. “But when she said it I just couldn’t get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasn’t answered the phone which, yes, I’ve been calling, and I don’t know how to do this.” He’d never been good at school but he knew he’d get a Grade A in Pitiful.

“Do what? Tell a girl you love her? You’ve been in relationships before, Steve.”

“I know, but…” he sighs. “I’m different now, like, it’s not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want to get hurt, it’s like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasn’t as good as I could have been, and I don’t want to break anything, I don’t want it to get fucked up, because it’ll be my fault, and I can’t do that again. Not to her.” He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. “I’m a little… I’m a little in love with her, I think.” This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. He’s gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and it’s scary. He hasn’t said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought he’d never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?

“A little bit?” Robin teases, but it’s all love for him, truly.

“Alright, a lot in love,” he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. “I still don’t know how to do this, though. Not anymore.”

“Come on!” Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using those…” she pauses for a beat and then, “charms,” the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, “on tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!”

“When did any of those charms,” he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, “work aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?”

“You might not be sixteen anymore but you’re still an idiot, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t but thank you for the encouragement.”

“I’m just saying!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. “Putting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you can’t let that stop you. You’d actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because you’d go insane. It’s not like what you did was all that bad anyway.”

“You really think so?” He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isn’t a totally awful and irredeemable person. It’s easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.

“You’ve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. She’s definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think it’ll all be okay, Steve, I swear.” Robin can’t take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once. “So do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,” she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Right, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,” he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. “Maybe you could just call her first and ask-“

“Steve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!” She throws her magazine at him. “She said she wants to be with you, go be with her!”

“Alright, alright!” He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. There’s still three hours left of their shift.

You’re in your room wallowing, or doing what’d you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You haven’t touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didn’t feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if you’d just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldn’t control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.

It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steve’s old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. “I am ridiculous,” you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.

You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he can’t anymore. He’s not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. “Did you- did you just run here from work?” You ask him, but he’s already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isn’t enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. It’s hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. “Where’s your car-“

“Forget that for a sec,” he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. “Just, just tell me if we do this it’ll be okay, and we won’t be terrible for each other, and we’ll be good,” because he needs to hear it, even if it’s ridiculous and he’s jinxing it before it’s begun he needs to know you’re right there with him. “Like, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. ‘Cause I love you. I do. And I want this.” And you get it. He’s letting you get it. He’s letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that he’s the first one to say those words. That you hadn’t even said them when you posed your first question. But he’s saying them out loud and it’s brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.

It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. “Fuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy I’ve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?” He smiles. He glows. It’s so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.

When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what he’s sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.

#IM JUST GONNA POST THIS NOW BECAUSE I WANTED TO WRITE SMUT BUT I KEEP DELETING IT AND IF I DONT JUST POST AS IS IM GONNA END UP NEVER POSTIN #i feel like the ending is rushed but otherwise i did enjoy writing this immensely!#love you guys<3333 #i will write smut one day but not today i guess! i’m literally at work rn too soo #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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spiderg0th · 1 year

Note

Established or mutual pining with Hobie Brown 🥺 maybe he's teasing the reader who is also a spider person (maybe include a kiss fake out or a chin tilt, something cutesy that gets the reader flustered). Maybe they're working together to capture an anomaly, and the reader is playfully annoyed?

(Hope that made sense!🥺)

can i kiss you?

hobie brown x spider person! reader

desc you visit his world for the first time.

wc 925

warning contains small spoilers from atsv (though it takes place before the events of the movie) and a mention of an injury.

Squinting as your eyes adjusted to the flashing array of colors from the portal, you removed the hand that shielded your face as an entire new world came into view. Taking a moment to take in your surroundings, you stood in awe at the vast landscape before you: large buildings featuring colorful billboards dominated the landscape. Everything flickered and changed shape every couple of seconds—it was unlike anything you had ever seen before. That was saying something because despite your short time in the Spider Society, none of the other worlds you had visited came anywhere close to this.

“Impressed?” Hobie questioned smugly, and even though you couldn’t see his facial expression due to his mask covering it, you knew that he was probably smirking.

“You were right, it’s certainly something.” You responded, pressing a few buttons on your watch, letting headquarters know that you both had safely traveled to Earth-138. An anomaly of Kingpin from another dimension had shown up in Hobie’s, so naturally, Miguel paired you together to handle it. Not only did you work well together, but Miguel trusted you to make sure that Hobie would get the job in a timely manner.

“I know exactly where it is. Just grab on so we don’t have to waste anymore time.” He spoke before bending over slightly so his lanky frame was closer to the ground.

“You’re joking right?” You asked incredulously, attempting to hide the uneasiness from your voice. If you were being completely honest with yourself, being piggybacked around by your crush sounded more than pleasant, but you didn’t want to give him any indication of your feelings. Besides, wouldn’t “fraternizing” like this be breaking some sort of Spider Society rules? Relationships between two spider people from different dimensions didn’t exactly sound like something Miguel would be in favor of. Then again, you rarely agreed with his policies anyway.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked again, turning to look at you over his shoulder. “You scared or something?”

“What? No?!” You said agitatedly before reluctantly wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Alright, hang on.” You knew from spending so much time with him that Hobie’s style of swinging around was more erratic than most, but you weren’t expecting it to be this wild. It was taking every amount of restraint within you to not let a scream rip from your throat. It was bad enough that you were sure he could feel your rapid heartbeat.

“Hold on, hold on.” He stopped on the top of a nearby building and you set yourself back on the ground.

“Are we here already? The watch says he’s much farther from here.” You state, looking around at the bustling streets below.

“No. You’re almost strangling me with your arms. We’ll get there soon.” Not even giving you a moment to protest, he places your left arm around his shoulder and his right around your waist. Securing a web on another skyscraper, you were off. Although this position was far more comfortable, it was also more embarrassing. Even though you were thankful he couldn’t see your expression beneath your mask, you still felt the need to hide your face in his neck. When you eventually reached the location where Kingpin was, you couldn’t deny the disappointment you felt when his arm slipped away and he set you on the ground.

Setting yourself down next to him on the ledge, you let out a sigh of relief because Kingpin was finally caught. He would have to settle for being tied together with webbing for now, as Miguel and Jessica weren’t there to physically take him back to the Spider Society Headquarters. He put up one heck of a fight, but it wasn’t something neither of you couldn’t handle. That didn’t mean you escaped the battle unscathed though. You caught Hobie examining your features when you slipped your mask off your face. If you weren’t so tired you would actually be embarrassed at the attention.

“Wait, look at me.” He said quietly, tucking a finger under your chin so he could look at your face more closely. He was close enough that you could feel his breath fanning your cheek.

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?”

“No.” He didn’t have a hint of sarcasm in his voice, which was kind of alarming to you. “It’s just a cut… gonna look sick once it’s healed.” You felt disappointed again, he was just looking at an injury on your face, nothing special. Assuming that he was done, you attempted to move your head back forward but his voice stopped you.

“Can I kiss you?” That’s not what you were expecting at all. Not thinking much, you immediately nodded your head and you could’ve sworn that you saw him smile before he leaned in. Unfortunately for you both, your watches decided to go off when your lips were only about a few centimeters away from each other.

“We’re here.” Hobie rolled his eyes as you stood to your feet. “Send the location of Fisk and meet us there.” As usual, Miguel had terrible timing. Before you could utter a word to Hobie, he swung to a building below and turned back to face you.

“You coming down here or do you need me to come back up there and grab you again?” He shouted jokingly.

“Shut up!”

While the day didn’t end up going exactly how you wanted it to, you were happy because one thing was certain: Hobie liked you back, and that was all that mattered.

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jubileemon · 12 days

Text

Full Moon Scene

This scene was pretty sad, in which Blitzo’s response to Stolas after Stolas expresses disappointment in Blitzo for doubting his feelings for him.

But you know the worst part of it?

While this was crushing for Stolas to hear, Blitzo's not wrong. I mean, he probably seen the way Stolas treats his imp butler not intentionally cruel like Stella, but definitely dismissive. In Loo Loo Land, Stolas didn't even check if the imp butler was okay when Stella threw him.

In one instance during Season 2 Episode 2, Stolas held the butler up to get the phone closer to his beak instead of just holding the phone itself, squeezing the poor butler so hard his eyes bulge like a stress toy. Stolas' interactions with him aren't focused on, but that's the point. It shows how Stolas sees his imp butler as part of the house, as an accessory to use or objectified without being sexualized. In Blitzo's eyes, there's no difference between Blitzø and that butler since they're both lowly imps who depend on Stolas for their financial security, sucking up to him because they know that he could easily take that security away if he thought they weren't "good enough" at their jobs.

Although Stolas only stopped being cutesy with Blitzo later on, but then the disastrous "Ozzie's" happened where Stolas behaved as though Blitzo was a shameful secret when confronted by Ozzie and Fizz. Since that night, there have been no indicators to Blitzø, except over text, that Stolas has changed all that much, but social media and text interactions can be second-guessed and rationalized. So for Blitzo, this confession has come right out of nowhere.

For Stolas, while doing the kind thing of severing their transactional relationship and doing so in a way that protects Blitzo and his business, gives Blitzo no time to catch up or process anything. To Blitzo, it's like his father selling him all over again as he's being expected to roll with the punches when other people who hold more power, like Paimon and now Stolas, impose their desires on him, which triggers and enrages him.

Both of them are in the wrong, and both of them are right. It's reminiscent of real fights between couples who generally don't communicate, which is why this moment hurts so much.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin analysis #helluva boss #character analysis #full moon #helluva boss blitz #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss stolitz #stolitz #hb stolas #stolas #stolas goetia #blitz x stolas #stolas and blitzo #blitzo and stolas #hb blitzø #hb blitzo #blitzo helluva boss #blitzo

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motherroam-rs · 4 months

Text

(Not) Broken

NSFW - 18+

Warnings/Tags: Alcohol, Smut, Fingering, Praise Kink, Oral Sex (both male and female receiving)

Relationship: Tech x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a comment from Crosshair has you feeling insecure, Tech offers some assistance in showing you that you’re not broken.

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: big thank you to @shinigami101 for helping me with this as well as @darklightcannon and Sophia for proofreading 🫶

NSFW Below the cut

You tap your foot against the durasteel floor of the marauder, the walkway extended before you, almost pointing to the cause of your annoyance striding towards it. Crosshair wears a tipsy smirk as he stares up at you, beginning his walk of shame up the steps. From this angle you catch sight of lipstick marks trailing down his neck and disappearing beneath his blacks. So that’s where he’s been.

“You’re late.” Your head shakes disapprovingly, the lasting effects of all the free drinks at 79’s only made you more irritable. You and Crosshair did typically get along - just not when he decided to make you all late for a mission just so he could enjoy having some girl wrapped around him.

“What, jealous?” Crosshair’s taunting voice carries over Wrecker’s snores as you pass by the larger clone slumped over in his chair, he had fallen asleep about twenty minutes prior, when the alcohol at least still had you feeling giddy.

“No, I’m annoyed because now we’re running behind because you decided it would be a good idea to kriff around with a Civ!” You drop yourself into your seat, yanking down the bar to secure yourself, and Crosshair does the same next to you.

Tech, the only one who’s entirely sober, has already begun preparations for take off, eyeing the pair of you between his ritualistic preparations for the Marauders flight. Always the designated pilot, it allowed the rest of you to soak up the drinks at 79’s and sleep them off before you all have to serve your duty in the war. You were thankful of his reliability every time he caught you from stumbling around like a newborn deer, and would wrap his arm around you to guide you back to the safety of the ship on those nights.

“Maybe if it were you, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” His voice is humorous as he knocks his leg with your own, but you’re not in the mood to laugh with him.

“Kriff off, Crosshair.” You bite back before Hunter, despite being the most inebriated out of all of you, finds it in himself to pull out the sergeant card to get the two of you to stop bickering.

Crosshair was right though, you were jealous, but not in the way he thinks. Your mind flashes back to sweating bodies, discomfort, and ultimately - disappointment. Sure, you were still young, and given that you were following these soldiers into battlefields on any given day it didn’t exactly give you the opportunity to meet any men. Despite these factors, you were beginning to think there was something wrong with you.

Not a moment longer past the time you’re safely in hyperspace, you make an exit towards the bunks, not caring for any eyes that may be staring at your back before the door closes.

A soft knock echoes through the room and you take a deep breath as you hit the control panel, ready to tell Crosshair to go wash away the heavy smell of cheap perfume that now lingered in the cockpit, but the door opens to reveal someone else.

“It is just me.” He steps inside and you move back to the bunk, flopping down onto your back with as much grace as a bird shot from the sky. He closes the door behind him and takes a seat on his bunk, directly across from your own.

“Where are the others?” You’re surprised none of them have rushed in yet to claim their bunks for the night.

“They are already asleep,” Tech informs you, fiddling with his gloves in the absence of the data pad usually present in his hands. “You are upset.”

“Yes.” You confirm with a huff.

“Because of Crosshair's comment on your lack of sexual activity?” Credits to him, he had it right. Any of the others would have guessed it was just the delay the sniper had caused you, but not Tech. Despite his aversion to most people, he did understand you, and you liked to think you did in return.

“Why are you here, Tech?” You roll onto your front and groan into your pillow, which of course being GAR issued, barely muffles the noise.

“Why are you upset?” Tech sounds genuinely confused at your misery.

“Because it’s embarrassing?” You half laugh at his question.

“Because you have not engaged in intimate activities since-“ You cut him off before he can make you feel any worse about the night in question, how he had bumped into a man who never even got the opportunity to get out of his own pants. You remember how Tech had actually blushed, and was unable to make eye contact with you the whole next rotation.

“Because I can’t,” The words are spilling out to your friend before you can stop them, the alcohol in your brain only making them slip out easier. “I’m broken, Tech.” You pull yourself up to sit on the edge of the bunk to mirror him, the room spinning as you do so.

“I..” Tech pauses, his eyes momentarily flicking downwards to your thighs as he adjusts his goggles. “I am afraid I do not understand what you mean.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You let yourself fall back onto the bunk once more, “I just can’t… finish.”

“Ah, you cannot achieve an orgasm.” The realisation in Tech’s voice makes your face burn.

“Oh maker.” You rip the pillow out from under your head and instead pull it over your face, as if you were a child hiding from an imaginary monster. But instead you’re just wishing the void of space would swallow you whole and save you from this conversation with Tech.

“It is nothing to be embarrassed about, would you say it is because your previous sexual partners were unsatisfactory or do you believe you are experiencing physical-“ He begins to reel off questions, each one making your face burn hotter.

This was not a conversation you wanted to be having with anyone on the team, let alone Tech, who would now just look at you as a broken part to a ship begging to be fixed.

“Tech!” You cut him off. “Just, leave, please?” You plead into the pillow, hoping he’s understood you.

You can’t see him, but you hear the soft creak of the bunk, and footsteps leading towards a door which opens with a soft whoosh.

He pauses, “I thought you wanted my help.” He lingers for a moment, until he’s sure you won’t respond, before leaving you once more.

Following the next mission, once you and Crosshair begrudgingly made up over Caf and teasing Hunter for being a lightweight before the batch and yourself as their medic head into battle, the Marauder is silent. For once, there is no bickering between the brothers, all of them having left to enjoy some local festivities on the planet you were stationed on for this evening. The only noise echoing throughout the bunks is the faint buzz of a vibrator and your shallow breaths.

You had it perfect, you’d showered, read a book to clear your mind, and even had a small glass of corellian whiskey to yourself. You’d received the bottle as a thank you for aiding an injured civilian and meant to save it for a special occasion, but something inside you said now was as good a time as any, especially considering the odd blaster bolt that came too close for comfort over the last few rotations.

All of the effort seems to be for nothing as you twist your free hand in the sheet, not in pleasure, but at irritation of your struggle for release. The other hand circles the edge of the vibrator over your clit, occasionally dipping down in an attempt to push it inside of you, but you’re not nearly relaxed or wet enough.

You’re so caught up in your frustration that you don’t hear the knock on the door, and the only warning you get to cover yourself comes from the light flooding into the room from the cockpit.

You jump upright, clutching the thin blanket to your bare chest and rip the vibrator away from between your legs.

“Oh,” Tech stammers from the doorway, still armoured and only lacking his helmet and gloves, his face flushed red. “I believe I have interrupted you.” Seemingly unsure of what to do, he slams his hand to the control panel, locking you both in the warm room.

“Yes.” You gulp, heart racing in your chest, fumbling to turn off the vibrator while it continues to buzz, as if it were laughing at you for your inability to cum.

“Any luck?”

Is he seriously asking you if you came?

“Tech.” You give a light warning, finally managing to switch off the device.

He gives you a questioning look, and you groan, sliding down against the mattress in defeat “No.”

Maybe it was the built up tension in you, or the fact you had a few drinks prior to your attempts but suddenly the confession works its way out of your throat.

“It’s just so frustrating, no matter what I do it’s not enough!” Tears threaten to fall and you scrunch your eyes closed.

“As I said before, I could help if you let me.” His voice is soft, level.

“How?” Your eyes open with an empty laugh and you find yourself staring at him, “Sorry, but I don’t exactly think the basic med training covers women’s intimacy issues, I know mine didn’t.”

“Perhaps I can find out the cause of your issue, if you will allow me to look.” He suggests, kneeling next to the bunk, his tone as casual as if he were discussing an issue with the Marauder.

“You want to watch me?” The words sound even more ridiculous aloud. Tech was your closest friend on the team, surely this would be crossing every line possible.

Tech looks at you with soft eyes full of reassurance, as if reading your thoughts, “I promise that nothing will change between us.”

His gaze is fixed on yours and something in his eyes makes the protest die on your tongue, his hand covers your own that is gripping the blanket to your chest. It feels warm and comforting, and your heart slows at the contact. His other hand presses on top of your knee that peeks out of the blanket, and you can’t recall a time he’s ever touched you with such purpose.

You pause for a moment, suppressing a shiver at the way his thumb brushes comforting circles on your knee, and take the opportunity to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, with the help of the whiskey you exhale your concerns, ripping off the proverbial bacta patch as you allow him to pull the blanket away from your bare body.

When you close your eyes in a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at Tech seeing you this way, you miss the way that his own widen in slight surprise and adoration, before darkening with lust.

He gives an encouraging nod as he applies light pressure to the inside of your knees, guiding them apart. If he feels any of the embarrassment that you do now, he certainly doesn’t show it with his gaze fixed between your legs.

“To begin, I would like for you to attempt to make yourself orgasm.” Your eyes snap open again, stomach tensing at his request. “Breathe, dear, it’s just us.”He quickly calms you, continuing to brush his thumb on your knee, and seats himself at the end of your bunk.

It’s just Tech, you’re friends, it’s not weird, he’s here to help you. You remind yourself, drawing a breath at his expectant eyes before trailing a hand down your body, which is entirely bare despite the fact that Tech remains near fully armoured. You think you hallucinate the small gasp from the end of the bunk when your fingers reach their destination, dragging slow circles on your clit.

“Would you like me to record this? I know that I typically record everything without asking but I need your consent in this situation.” His offer is uncharacteristically fast for the man who is used to keeping a level head in the middle of battle.

You bite your lip, your head already nodding before your brain can formulate an answer, and your cheeks flush at how the knowledge of Tech recording you makes your stomach tighten and wetness coat your fingers.

You withdraw your hand from between your legs, waiting as he presses the button on the side of his goggles and a small red light assures you it’s recording. “Continue what you were doing before.” He instead presses the vibrator to your open hand, turning the device on.

“Remember what I just told you, dear, breathe.” Tech reassures you once again when your breath begins to quicken. He keeps one hand on your knee as the other guides your own to position the vibrator on your clit, and you suck in a sharp breath at the contact, suppressing the moan begging to be heard.

“It is just us here, you do not have to silence yourself.” Tech's voice is hushed, but still floods your ears. The sound of it only makes you tighten around nothing.

You try to tell him that you can’t, that it’s bad enough that you’re in this situation, but that he’s helping you with it. Tech, your teammate, your friend. But, you’re not given much choice when he guides your own hand to add pressure with the vibrator, “Tech!”

You swear you hear his breath hitch at the unrestrained cry, or perhaps it’s your own.

“Very good.” He withdraws his hand.

Has his voice always sounded that tense?

You continue your movements, allowing your head to fall back on the thin pillow which seems to be the only thing grounding you to the real world at this moment. You let out a small moan when the bunk creaks and a bare hand presses to your inner thigh, forcing one of your legs into a position that will allow him a better view.

“It seems you are approaching an orgasm.” He encourages, leaning forward in quiet awe. You don’t respond, you already know what’s coming, just as you’re steps away from the precipice, the fire diminishes, leaving your body flushed and unsatisfied.

“That’s what I mean, Tech.” Your eyes finally settle on him between your legs, and despite your failed attempt to cum, you involuntarily tighten. You switch off the vibrator, discarding it on the bunk, but Tech raises his hand to catch your wrist before you can pull the covers over your naked form.

“Fascinating,” You’re about to kick him away at that, until his next statement renders your body useless. “May I try?” Techs hand guiding your own was one thing, but for him to use his own on you has your heart going faster than a pod race. You don’t know what’s possessed you, but your body responds before your mind has made its decision and you’re giving him a small nod.

He waits a moment, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation, before he’s leaning back to take his position between your legs, which had closed again on instinct.

“Please, relax for me.” He gently pulls apart your thighs, his fingers immediately moving upwards, lightly grazing over the soft skin.

“You appear to be wet enough, no issue there.” His thumb smears the fluid up your slit to your clit, opening you up in one motion and you gasp. Your hands find purchase in your bedsheets, and it takes every bit of control in you to not chase after his hand with your hips.

“No lessened sensation either, good.” He mumbled to himself but you can barely hear him over your own heartbeat as he moves to drag slow circles around your clit with his thumb, earning him another moan from you. At the noise, you catch Tech briefly adjusting his codpiece, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“Tech?” Even in battle you’ve never been so breathless, and he gives a strained hum of acknowledgment, his middle finger dipping back down to circle your entrance.

“You can take it off if it’s - ah!” The words are stolen when his finger sinks into you effortlessly, and your hand grips the metal edge of the bunk while your brain scrambles to find the end of the sentence. “If you’re uncomfortable.”

He doesn’t respond verbally, but the soft click of his codpiece being released signals that he’s heard you, and he presses his hips back to the mattress. Once certain you have adjusted, he adds another finger, working them inside you with a scissoring motion that has you chanting his name in a breathless prayer.

You become increasingly aware of how he’s grinding himself into the mattress with every strangled moan and whimper he can pull from you, slipping from his usual control.

You can barely begin to form words at this point beyond his name, your senses instantly zeroing in on the harsh warm breath fanning across your exposed cunt as his fingers withdraw from you. You barely get a moment to glance at his head between your thighs before his lips press to your clit, tongue darting out to taste you.

“Is this okay?” Tech’s voice is rough, nearing Crosshair levels of hoarse.

“Maker, yes Tech.” You practically sob, and just as your mouth utters his name, he’s diving in, tongue exploring you like a man starved. At the intensity of the sensation, your thighs threaten to close around his head, but he’s fast to hitch one of your legs over his shoulder while pinning the other one down to keep you open for him.

A thin layer of sweat forms on your skin as your hands tightly grip the sheets at his attention to your cunt. First, he’s zeroing in on your clit, licking and sucking in a way that almost has you in tears, before he moves down to dip inside you, tasting you, and then repeats the process.

The orgasm is approaching fast like a wave threatening to break at shore, but then the tide begins to recede. Tech seems to sense this, pulling back and releasing your clit with a wet noise that seems to echo through the empty room.

”Look at me, Mesh’la.” Tech demands and you meet his burning gaze. Through the flames in his goggle framed eyes, you find encouragement. He wants you to watch him. Once he’s sure you’re focused on him, he returns his mouth to your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth whilst delving two fingers inside.

You don’t know what possesses you to make the offer, whether it be the haze of pleasure in your mind, or the way his hips continue to rut into the mattress, but it spills from your lips without any filter “Tech, I can help you too- Kriff!” He sucks particularly hard at this before releasing you so he can listen to your offer, “But I’m not sure how to take care of us both at once, or if you want to…” you gesture down to his erection straining against his blacks, “Help your own situation?”.

You practically see the cogs whir in his mind, and he sits up, beginning to rid himself of his armour. “Stand up.” He orders, and despite the way your legs shake, you obey the order, gripping the upper bunk for support.

You stare at Tech, slightly confused, and a small smile graces his lips, still coated with evidence of your arousal. He’s bare from the waist up, and his hands now make steady work of removing his lower blacks in one swift motion. Your attention is caught by the sight of his cock standing proud against his tanned abdomen. You knew biologically there is some correlation between height and the size, and with Tech being tall that he would be above average, but your lips fall open at the length. You still weren’t sure what he had in mind, but you’re suddenly unsure you can handle it.

“Do not be intimidated, Cyar’ika, I will help you.” One hand reaches to your jaw, brushing a thumb along it almost lovingly while the other settles on your hips, pulling you down onto the bunk with him. Both hands are now slipping below your thighs, pulling you into a position so that you’re straddling his chest, facing towards the foot of the bunk, facing his cock.

So this is what his solution is.

“Move closer.” Tech’s grip on your hips is as firm as his voice when he tugs you up to his mouth, hot breath fanning across your cunt in another soft warning before his tongue runs over your slit in one strong motion.

Tech seems to be paying attention to the way your legs shake from the effort of holding yourself up, because one of his hands extends to your upper back, pushing you into a position where your breasts press to his stomach. At this new angle, you’re fully seated on his face, and you’re able to wrap a curious hand around his girth to give his cock an experimental tug. The moan that reverberates against your cunt has you sending a thank you to the maker that Hunter wasn’t nearby to overhear the methods his brother was using on you to assist with your predicament.

Tech’s cock is now inches from your lips and you marvel at it momentarily before allowing your tongue to run over the head, beginning to move your hand to at least grant him some relief. He jolts, groaning, and you pull back.

“Are you okay - am I hurting you?” In your limited experience with this, you’d never had any complaints, but now you worry that your partners just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“No!” He protests immediately, as if you were asking him if he’d like to be executed, “You’re not hurting me, please continue.”

At his insistence, your tongue licks another wet circle over the weeping head of Tech’s cock, and his thighs tense at the effort not to thrust into your mouth. You appreciate the sign of restraint from him and you tighten your hand around the base of his cock, finally taking him into your mouth. The taste and smell of him intoxicate you, igniting memories of every time you’ve stood just an inch too close to each other to the point you could practically inhale his calming presence.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought this before, being here, with him. Suppressed thoughts rise to your mind and you close your eyes to bask in the moment with him, like it’s a dream that will be ripped from you.

Due to his impressive length, your lips are barely touching your fingers by the time he hits your throat and you release a drawn out moan, muffled by his cock. He sucks your clit into his mouth at this action, bringing tears to your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation.

You feel him draw his hips back, sliding out of your mouth and allowing you to take a breath before giving a short thrust in to stop at the back of your throat, which causes drool to begin leaking down his exposed cock and on your fingers.

Soon enough, the pair of you are a sight that would make a brothel patron blush. Tech continues his measured thrusts into your mouth and you take it with a moan when he begins to work you on his fingers once more. You can feel yourself practically dripping down his chin, and your stomach begins to tense - until the expected disappointment. Just as you begin to approach that high, it seems to pull further and further away from you once more.

Not again.

Tech seems to have read your mind and agreed with a strained “No,” as he pulls away from your cunt, but the room still echoes with the wet sound of his fingers scissoring into your heat.

“I need your full focus, I will not fail you at this Mesh’la.” He lifts you off his face and you release his throbbing cock from your lips. His grip is firmer than before, likely from the mounting frustration at his incomplete task, as he pulls you to face him. In this new position, you’re straddling him and you can feel the press of his cock to your inner thigh.

“Do you trust me?” There’s determination in his eyes, as if you’re a piece of the Marauder that he needs to fix.

“Always, Tech.” His eyes soften momentarily at this, but he reminds himself of the task at hand and with a speed you’ve only seen him use in battle, he’s flipped you both so you’re pinned underneath him once more.

Now that he’s above you, his length seems even more daunting and your hand grips his shoulder when you feel the head of his cock press to your entrance. Your whole body seems to tense, and you can’t help but dig your nails to his shoulder, which brings his eyes to yours.

“Shh, Mesh’la, that’s it, relax.” Tech’s voice is gentle but authoritative as he instructs you, pressing a kiss to your jaw. Even with his thorough preparation of your body, the stretch as he enters you is overwhelming, and yet, it’s better than anything you’ve ever felt. You had been preparing for the usual pain and discomfort, but this was on the opposite end of the scale.

“Breathe for me Cyar’ika,” he presses another kiss just below your ear and his voice sounds almost strangled. “That’s it, good girl.” He pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back into yours, delving deeper into you.

“Just a little more, I promise, you can take it, you’re-“ a low groan sounds in his throat and you feel his lips ghost against the edge of your ear. “Taking me so kriffing well already.”

Is this the first time you’ve ever heard Tech swear?

He’s entirely inside you and the fullness is now euphoric. Tan skin is coated with a sheen of sweat that makes him look almost angelic, his lips and cheeks flushed from the effort of holding back from pushing you too far when he begins to rock his hips into yours.

A string of Mando’a curses tumble from his mouth as he falls into a rhythm of slow thrusts, keeping the pace your body needs to chase its high that hasn’t quite worn off from all the previous work his mouth set you up for. The precipice is no longer escaping you, he’s keeping you there, dangling you over the edge of it whilst simultaneously grounding you to him.

The room echoes with every gasp, thrust, and moan. It’s some kind of erotic orchestra conducted by Tech to encourage you along, and it’s working. One of his hands tangles in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he can press wet, open mouthed kisses against your pulse point.

Every action that Tech’s making, no matter how small, has you more intoxicated than any drug in existence, and your legs tighten impossibly around his hips in an attempt to keep him close to you. To help you let go.

“It’s okay, you can let go for me, Cyar’ika.” Tech’s reassuring words speaking your own thoughts are all you need to push you over the edge. You’re gasping into his shoulder, and you can’t help but bite into the soft skin with a desperate plea of his name. He shudders at this, slamming into you with now uneven thrusts as he buries his face in your neck.

“That’s it, I’ve got you.” Tech is coherent enough to be guiding you through your own release, despite being overcome with his own. His lust laced voice is all you can hear over the overload of your senses, a sharp whisper in your ear to guide you through this new world of pleasure where you tighten around his cock like you’re trying to keep him deep inside you.

It’s a blissful moment, with Tech entirely spent between your legs, tears rolling down your face and his name still in your mouth. It’s a moment that’s over too soon when he withdraws from you, and you can’t help but moan at the release of fluid between your thighs. Your friend's cum is leaking out of you, only momentarily, because he’s already grabbed his blacks from the end of the bunk to press between your thighs, cleaning the mess from your legs.

“I’ll wash them.” He assures you.

Once satisfied that you’re both taken care of, he lays next to you on the defiled bunk, pulling your half limp body against his. You never thought that Tech would be the kind for intimacy after sex, and yet you can hear his steady heartbeat against your cheek. You’re honoured, almost, for him to hold you like this when he found discomfort in most physical contact.

“I told you that you were not broken, Cyare, I am always correct.” He presses his lips to your forehead, and despite how he’s just brought you to the very brink of what your body could handle, your chest tightens.

Were you broken? No, he’d proven that much. Were you kriffed because of how your heart seems to skip a beat at the small moment of tenderness with your friends lips against your hairline? Yes, you were.

#tech x fem!reader #tech x reader #tech smut #praise k!nk #the bad batch #bad batch fanfiction #bad batch smut

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rad-batson · 1 year

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Damian Wayne Headcanons :) in which I give him actual character growth, suck it dc writers

this is extremely long, I am not sorry

He has literally no footsteps, you cannot hear him walk, even when he stomps around in one of those moods, it’s just barely a little *pat pat pat*

He doodles on everything. With everything. Some Gothamites have found intricate floral designs etched into the roof or random brick walls (most likely with a knife) after seeing Robin patrol.

He has like 20 weighted blankets, all different weights and sizes depending on his mood.

His favorite item in his room is a silver Nintendo DS. (He likes to use the little chat rooms, even if no one else is on the other end. He doodles and writes little messages. It’s like his diary.)

He loves all animals, and that includes the creepy ones. Especially the creepy ones.

Once, Tim started screaming bloody murder over a massive bug with a bajillion legs in his room. Damian now houses it in an enclosure in his bedroom. Her name is Mildred, Millie for short.

When he was in the LoA, he was forbidden from stimming in front of others. It took two years for anyone in the batfamily to ever witness him stimming.

His most common stimming behaviors are shaking out his hands, scratching his palms, and rubbing his hands across different surfaces. When he’s really stressed, he’ll snap his fingers.

He absolutely hates cameras. They’re loud and make him uncomfortable. One reporter almost got scratched when they got too close to him with the flash on. He only barely tolerates the security cameras in the manor. Barely.

He can and will be roped into any dare imaginable. Bruce repeatedly forbids him from taking dares from his siblings for months at a time.

He has a compartment in his utility belt dedicated to treats for any animal he sees on patrol.

When he’s tired, he’ll speak a mixture of Arabic, Mandarin, and English. Only Bruce can make sense of it, and occasionally Jason.

Bruce absolutely refuses to yell at Damian. Even if some of his other kids argue that he’s being too nice, he’ll only use his Batman voice and his Soft But Disappointed Dad Voice, but he will Never yell.

(He doesn’t tell them it’s because of what happened the first and only time he yelled at Damian. Bruce moved his hand a bit, and Damian flinched wildly. Bruce cried for hours over the implications of that.)

Damian only feels comfortable sitting if he can clearly see the main entrance. If not, he’ll sit with his back against a wall or he’ll stand.

He dutifully takes the responsibility of feeding and grooming every Wayne animal. They receive the most nutritious and filling meals on the market (all while receiving lots of head pats.)

He has very strong eyebrows just like his father. They tend to pull the same exasperated expressions too, highlighting their resemblance.

Talia taught Damian at a very young age how to write perfectly with both hands. He no longer remembers if he is naturally left or right-handed.

The one insult he cannot handle is “spoiled brat.” A few months after he arrived, someone in the family called him that as a joke, and he completely shut down emotionally. No anger, no sadness, no resentment. Literally just nothing. For days. No one knows why, but they will never let it happen again.

You know he’s Up to Something TM if he swings his legs back and forth while he sits.

He is obsessed with those cheap TV documentaries about famous plane crashes and shipwrecks. After finishing one, he’ll find the nearest family member and tell them all about it: how it happened, what human error caused it, and his fool-proof plan for if it ever happens again and he is nearby. Usually, it’s Alfred.

For the first few years at the manor, Damian’s favorite spot is the family graveyard. Everyone calls him dramatic. He just likes how it’s so quiet. (And he’s dramatic.)

When Jason waxes poetics about dying over dinner, Damian just groans and says, “So have I. You’re not special.” That’s how the family learns he was repeatedly revived in the Lazarus Pit due to the fatal nature of his training and abuse.

His first ever crush was on the cute male tech at Alfred the Cat’s vet. Damian was 12. Jason, who accompanied him, proceeded to give him both The Talk (“It’s okay to like boys”) and The Talk (“Your body is ✨changing✨”) on the drive home.

He will not text back unless it is absolutely necessary. He will leave people on read. He does not hate you. (…Probably.)

Titus is a registered therapy dog, trained in helping Damian through panic attacks and sensory overload. If you ever see Damian asleep on the floor, eyes cried out with Titus resting on top of him, you know why.

When he was 13, he tried to fake his own death after he failed a test at school and “dishonored the family name.” Bruce and Dick had to sit him down and explain that grades aren’t everything, and they still love him unconditionally.

He talks to animals like they’re human. He has a habit of venting his frustrations to Batcow in particular. And his fish while he feeds them.

His love language to others is a mixture of gifts and quality time, usually without words.

One day, Damian was snooping around the house and found that one of the electrical closets leads to a tiny space—barely two feet wide—in between the sheetrock and the foundation wall with nothing but a single hanging lightbulb. It took years before anyone else found it, but by then, Damian had painted an 8x10 ft mural on the wall and created a small bed of blankets and pillows for when he needs a quiet place to escape unwanted stimuli.

When he sleeps, his cheeks puff out like a little chipmunk. It’s adorable.

During the Winter Olympics one year, Damian falls in love with figure skating and decides he wants to try it out, but he never asks to take up lessons in fear that he will be horrible at it.

Duke figures this out and now takes him ice skating just enough to avoid suspicion. It’s become their bonding activity.

Once, Jason and Tim made him try a Sour Patch Kids-flavored energy drink. He immediately spit it out and said, “What the fuck?! That’s even worse than drinking from the Lazarus Pit.” And that’s how the family learns that Ra’s made Damian drink from the Lazarus Pit a few times.

One day, Steph told Damian about the wonders of concealed self defense products. Now, about 80% of the mundane items Damian owns is secretly a knife. He will purchase any item that is secretly a knife. Including several fake lipstick tubes.

He has rigorous self-control when it comes to sleep. Sure, his schedule is a bit fucked up for someone his age, but he is in bed and asleep exactly when he tells himself. (His siblings could never.)

His entire wardrobe is soft items he “found” stole from the laundry room. If it’s comfortable, it’s his now. (No one complains. In fact, having Damian steal your clothes is considered a privilege.)

He hates whenever Alfred tries to recreate dishes from his childhood. It’s just not the same. Alfred understands.

When he’s really stressed—like the “I am one stubbed toe away from a complete meltdown” stressed—he will finger paint. He likes the feeling of it on his skin.

Due to his time in the LoA, Damian has a habit of never telling anyone if he’s injured. Instead, he’ll pretend nothing’s wrong until he passes out or literally can’t move right and someone calls him out. He’s working on it, though.

There’s a massive system of fish tanks in his room complete with handmade decor and multiple venomous species. No one even realizes until Alfred mentions it during dinner.

He has hyper fixated at least once on every single artistic medium you can imagine. His top three are oil paintings, mosaics, and pottery, but he mostly sticks to drawing in his free time.

He has taste tested all of his pets’ treats at one point for “research purposes.”

Giving friends their own nickname is one of the most intimate things Damian does to express his relationship with someone.

Once, he was having an argument with a sibling, and they said, “Oh yeah? Well at least Bruce wanted me!” Damian didn’t leave his room for exactly six days. He even stapled blackout curtains to his windows and the vents. Bruce chewed the shit out of whoever said it and spent hours every day talking to Damian through the door to convince him that, yes, Bruce wants him and couldn’t ever think of a family without him. Damian didn’t come out, however, until he heard Bruce crying while begging him to eat. Damian slept in Bruce’s bed that night and the following week.

When he turns 15, he gets really obsessed with Måneskin.

He’s exactly the kind of Art Hoe that is completely loyal to his favorite brand of art supplies and wouldn’t touch other brands with a 10ft pole.

He has weirdly thin fingers. Like creepily thin, especially as he grows older. Someone commented on them once, and Damian proceeded to wear gloves nonstop for a week.

There are exactly four (4) people who are allowed to touch him without permission first. Dick, Jon, Bruce, and Talia in that order.

His eyes are actually naturally blue. The reason they are green is because of the Lazarus Pit. It’s always the Lazarus Pit. (They barely glow in the dark too, but you need to really pay attention to notice.)

He can wiggle his ears. The only people to ever witness it are Cass and Duke. They’ve been sworn to secrecy.

Whenever one of his many pets sleeps in his bed, he tries to stay as still as possible without touching them so they don’t get annoyed and leave, but they always worm their way into his arms.

As he grows, his family is surprised to learn that he isn’t building the same muscle as his dad. Instead, he’s lean like his mother due to an extremely fast metabolism. He eats a lot to maintain proper health. (His cheeks are still puffy when he sleeps, though. And when he smiles.)

Dick is his emergency contact for school, partially because Dick isn’t as busy, partially due to that time Bruce “died,” but mostly because Damian is terrified of disappointing Bruce if he ever gets in trouble. Thankfully, Dick is convincing Damian otherwise.

His favorite ever birthday gift comes from Tim. It’s a pottery studio he spent months building on their property in secret with several pottery wheels and a kiln.

His hands have always had a sort of surgical accuracy to them due to his stealth training, but it never came to the forefront of everyone’s mind until one particular mission when Tim got shot, and they needed to get the bullet out as quickly as possible. Despite being bigger than most of his family members by now, and Tim refusing to stay still the whole time, Damian was the only one capable of taking the bullet out. While riding in the Batmobile. Going 80 mph. Completely painlessly. Damian is immediately given the de facto role of Combat Medic.

Jon likes to send Good morning texts to Damian. At first, he didn’t know about the “only responds if it’s an emergency” thing, though, so he decided to stop after a few weeks of Damian never replying. Within an hour of not getting the usual text, Damian was at Jon’s house in full Robin gear to make sure he was okay.

He and Steph like to paint each other’s nails when one of them is stressed. After Damian comes out as pansexual, Steph paints little pride flags on his fingers.

He only plays Minecraft on creative mode. He likes building farms and wildlife preserves.

At 16, he gets asked out by a pretty girl in school that Damian had a crush on last year, but he thinks it’s a joke because he can’t fathom anyone liking him so he turns her down.

As he grows, his looks become more androgynous, again eerily resembling his mother, but his voice drops low enough that it doesn’t cause much misgendering.

Then he starts thinking of his gender a bit more and wonders if he’s also a They.

He likes to paint all over the soles of his shoes whenever he gets a new pair. No one will ever really see it, of course, and it eventually wears off the more he walks, but he knows it’s there.

It’s a nice day in the park. He’s doing homework on a picnic table while Titus and Ace run around, and he can’t stop thinking about his future.

Yesterday, there was a school assembly about choosing a career path. Alfred slid him an SAT prep book during breakfast. And his class was assigned one of those “Which career path is best for you?” quizzes.

He gets Veterinarian.

It takes a full five minutes as Damian stares at the results, thinking about the crazy, out-of-this-world idea of not being a vigilante or assassin his entire life, what it would be like if he just turned his back on the future which was so carefully laid out in front of him since birth, before it clicks into place.

Damian doesn’t want to be Batman.

He doesn’t want to lead the LoA either.

Two years later, Damian enrolls in Gotham University and majors in Wildlife Biology on the Pre-Vet track with a minor in Studio Arts. He gets a dorm room, works in the pottery studio, and volunteers at the local animal shelter.

He is content.

Does some of this stray from canon? Yes. However, I do not give a rat’s ass. Thank you, and goodnight.

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corroded-hellfire · 5 months

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As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 8

Collaboration with the Dusty Bun to my Steeb @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: The unresolved fight between you and Eddie continues as your birthday comes around and he still won't come to celebrate with you and your friends.

Note: I can't believe it's been over a year now since I started writing this series. That feels insane to me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving

Words: 6.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Today should have been perfect.

For one, it’s your birthday, and it coincides with your off day from classes. You got a free coffee from the local café this morning. And your friends are planning a night out at the bar now that you’ve finally reached the legal drinking age.

But it’s not perfect, because you and Eddie still haven’t spoken since your argument. To be honest, you’re not sure if he even wants to fix things.

It’s all you thought about the whole day while you babysat Danny and Amelia Harrington. You force yourself to concentrate on the road as you drive to pick the older kids up from school, the youngest two safely buckled in the car seats.

Ryan and Natalie walk out first, bundled up to fight off the heavy wind and animatedly discussing some intense second-grade gossip. Luke and Theo trail behind, play-fighting until they reach the car.

The sliding doors have barely opened before Luke is climbing into the car and shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You wince, massaging your ear with your forefinger. “Thanks, little man,” you say, and the rest of the group chimes in with their own cheers.

“I got you a gift!” Luke chirps, something crinkling in his grasp. He hands you a bright blue snack pack of mini Oreos. It’s opened and currently only contains a single cookie.

You smile gratefully, trying not to laugh. “My favorite!” you exclaim, taking the lone Oreo and popping it in your mouth.

Ryan digs into his backpack and takes out a yellow piece of construction paper. “I made you this card,” he says shyly.

It reads, “Happy Birthday to the best babysitter in the world!” Below the printed words, he’s drawn himself, Luke, you, and Eddie. Your heart pangs when you think about that stupid fight, the one where you’d both let your insecurities run wild.

If this is the end of the relationship, how will you break it to the boys?

You don’t have time to ruminate on that before Luke leads everyone, even baby Amelia, into a very off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to You. Even if Amelia can’t speak yet, her melodic mumbling and gurgling only enhanced the performance. They’ve barely taken a breath after the song is finished before Natalie and Theo are asking questions.

“How old are you?”

“Are you gonna have cake?”

“What presents did you get?”

Luke, of course, pipes up with a request of his own:

“Since it’s your birthday, can we get McDonalds? I want a Happy Meal.”

When you get back to the Harrington household—sans McDonald’s to Luke’s disappointment—you situate the two youngest in front of the television and pop Mulan into the VHS player for them. Once you’ve made sure Amelia is securely in her walker and Danny is cuddled up on the couch between his favorite teddy bear and his stuffed rhinoceros, you head into the kitchen to prepare a snack for the older kids.

The four of them seem to be doing alright with their homework as you put one bowl of baby carrots and one bowl of Cheez-It crackers on the table. Unsurprisingly, four small hands grab for the processed orange snack, bypassing the healthier option all together.

For the next hour or so you flit back and forth between the dining room to help with homework and the living room to attend to any toddler needs or upsets. The time passes quicker than you would’ve thought, and you’re surprised when you hear the front door unlocking. You had known Steve and Nancy would be coming home early today to give you a chance to go out and celebrate your birthday, but the hour snuck up on you.

The moment that Amelia hears her parents step into the house, she’s no longer interested in the avalanche that buried the Huns and has the urgent need for her mom to pick her up.

“They weren’t too much trouble, I hope,” Steve says as he reaches up to muss Theo’s hair. The little boy just ignores him as he tries to figure out the math problem he’s been working on for the last five minutes.

“Nah, not too bad,” you say. Trying to contain a smirk, you lean in towards Steve and speak in a loud conspiratorial whisper. “Except…these two,” you say, gesturing to Ryan and Natalie. “Evil masterminds.”

Natalie just hmphs and tosses her light brown hair over her shoulder while Ryan sticks his tongue out at you. With a chuckle, you walk over and press a kiss to the top of the eldest Munson boy’s head.

“I’m gonna get going, okay?” you tell him. The truth is that you definitely have time to spare before you have to start getting ready for the bar tonight, but you want to make sure you’re gone by the time Eddie gets here.

Ryan turns in his seat to look at you and opens his mouth, but before he can speak Eddie enters the house. Your body has had many different reactions to Eddie over the course of you knowing one another, but the one that comes over you now is completely foreign. Heat seems to rise to your cheeks, but it feels like your veins are made of ice and you could snap them beneath your skin if you moved too quickly.

Eddie toes off his chunky black work boots by the front door and does a double take when he sees you standing by Ryan. He gives you a tentative smile and you give a small nod in recognition. Needing to focus on something else, you look back down at Ryan and gently move some of his growing honey colored hair off of his forehead. You can still see Eddie in your periphery though. He’s coming closer towards you, and it feels like every step he takes makes your heart race a little faster.

Once he’s so close that you can’t avoid looking at him, you notice a small pink gift bag in his hands. Eddie’s deep brown eyes are looking down at it too, but you both raise your heads simultaneously and meet each other’s gaze. Pain and longing radiate off the two of you so strongly that even baby Amelia could probably sense it.

“Happy birthday, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, offering you the bag.

Slowly, you reach out to take it, the white tissue paper that sticks out of the top crinkling beneath your fingers. You give Eddie a polite smile and start to leave, but Luke stops you in your tracks.

“You gotta open it!”

A nod is the only response you can give Luke, not trusting your voice—or even knowing what you’d say. Biting your lip, you ruffle through the pristine white tissue paper and pull out a pair of earrings fastened to an earring card. They’re beautiful. Three tiny hearts stacked on top of each other, all purple and connected by silver chain links. The urge to put them on immediately is strong,

“The hearts…one’s for Ryan, one’s for Luke, and one’s for, um, me,” Eddie explains bashfully as he slips his hands into his pockets.

Your eyes fill with tears, a cacophony of emotions in each drop.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, bending down to hug Luke and Ryan. You stand up and face Eddie, feeling the boys’ eyes drilling into you as they wait for you to embrace their dad like you always do.

You lean in and give him a small hug, lingering for an extra moment. He smells of motor oil and sweat, but you can’t get enough. It’s a test of wills to tear yourself away from him. As you pull back, a tight smile forms on your face.

“I should get going,” you tell them kindly.

“Where’re you going?” Luke asks.

You ruffle his hair lovingly. “My friends are having a birthday party for me. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Or,” Ryan offers, dragging out the word, “we could treat you to dinner tomorrow.”

Luke grins. “Can we go to McDonalds?”

You can’t help but laugh. The boys bring you more humor and joy than they could possibly imagine.

“You boys are too much sometimes,” you tell them. If you’re being honest, you would love to spend time with them and Eddie, even if it’s just eating fast food. Anywhere with the three of them becomes its own adventure. It breaks your heart knowing there’s still this friction between you and Eddie and you’re not exactly on speaking terms. You can’t dwell on it, though. Not tonight.

When you arrive at the bar, it’s bursting with people. Groups have gathered to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, clinking oversized mugs teeming with foamy beer. It’s much noisier than you’d normally prefer, but you’re glad for the excess sound to drown out your thoughts.

Jess spots you immediately and waves you over to where she, Lily, and Paul are sitting in front of the bartender. As soon as you plop down on a stool, Lily places a sash around you.

“It’s my 21st birthday? Really?”

“Well, it is!” she quips with a laugh. “Besides, people will totally buy you drinks if you wear this.”

She isn’t wrong. You take shot after shot, eventually losing track of the total amount. A tiny voice in your head reminds you not to mix light and dark liquor, but it’s too late for that.

Your friends keep toasting to the ‘birthday girl,’ which prompts more people to cheer and offer to treat you to another round. By the time you get up to dance, your head is spinning.

You sway along to Bon Jovi’s ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ until you can no longer stand. Jess is kindly letting you lean on her, her arm wrapped around your waist, when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

“Can I buy you a drink?” an unfamiliar voice asks, tone laced with sultriness.

You turn around to see a guy about your age, a ten-dollar bill between his pointer and middle fingers.

“Oh, I-I shouldn’t,” you start, but Lily jumps in instead.

“She would love that.” She smiles at him, then whispers in your ear, “the best way to get over Eddie is to get under someone else.” She sticks out her hand to the mystery man and introduces both herself and you. I don’t want to get over Eddie, your brain thinks before drunkenly attempting to focus on what the man in front of you is saying now.

Mystery Man smiles. “I’m Stefon.”

Unbeknownst to you, one Wayne Munson is watching the entire encounter from across the bar. It isn’t his usual digs, but the guys from the plant invited him out for drinks to celebrate the holiday, and he obliged.

He sees you take another drink with trepidation, a young man resting his hand on your hip. It seems like you’re barely aware of what’s going on, sending a queasiness through Wayne’s stomach that definitely isn’t from the alcohol. He’s used to minding his business, but when the guy puts his arm around you, he makes the decision to call Eddie from the payphone.

Just under fifteen minutes later, Eddie is pushing his way into the smoky and boisterous bar, eyes anxiously scanning for you. A surge of relief floods his veins when he sees your beautiful familiar face amongst the sea of green clothing, but the feeling is short-lived when he sees you leaning on a strange man.

It’s hard to tell if you’re aware that you’re leaning on him or not, because you’re talking to Lily animatedly. The man has his eyes glued to you, but he may or may not be on your radar. Your boyfriend isn’t waiting to find out, though. Eddie’s met your friend Paul who you’re out with tonight, so he immediately knows it isn’t him with you and Lily, so he shoves his way through the crowd and shoulders the mystery man out of the way and gently holds your arm to steady you.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Eddie says, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd and music. He’s doing his best to be inconspicuous but you’re too drunk for that.

“Eddie!” You fling your arms around him in a hug and let out a loud and giddy laugh. Eddie feels a small surge of pride when you seem to forget all about the guy standing there—if you’d even remembered he was there to begin with. When he looks into your eyes, he can see the glassiness from the alcohol as well as glee that seeing him caused. “Eddie, what’re you doing here? You didn’t wan’ be here!”

He takes a deep breath, inhaling a lung full of secondhand smoke. “You need water and sleep, baby,” he says, trying to be heard over the music.

“But it’s my party!” you whine, giving an exaggerated pout. “An’ you didn’t come ‘cuz you don’t love me.”

His brows shoot up as his heart falls. “I don’t love you?” Obviously, you’re drunk but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Nuh-uh.” You scrunch your nose. “Maybe you do, ‘cuz you’re here now.” Your frown quickly flips to a drunken smile. “We should dance! ‘Cuz you love me!”

Eddie tilts his head, giving you a skeptical look. “I thought you said I didn’t.”

“But you came here to see me, so you do,” you explain as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. The fact that you’re swaying where you stand doesn’t help your credibility though.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see the man you were leaning on finally slink away. Apparently, he only needed to hear the confirmation that Eddie does indeed love you.

“Let me take you home, princess,” Eddie says, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“That sounds like a line,” you say with a giggle that’s interrupted by a hiccup.

“It’s probably the most chivalrous thing anyone’s said to you tonight,” Eddie says, looking around at the other men in the bar like they’re vultures, ready to step in and claim you for their own. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you lament with an over dramatic sigh. “But just cause you’re so cute.” You giggle again as you lean against Eddie.

At least she’s leaning against me now, he thinks bitterly. Too exasperated for more words, Eddie just presses a kiss to the top of your head and laces his fingers with yours—tightly, so he won’t lose you in the crowded bar.

Eddie catches Jess’s eye where she’s leaning against the bar and nods towards the door, letting her know that he’s taking you home. She nods in return and gives a thumbs up. Eddie scans the crowd to see if he can spot his uncle, but there’s just too many people.

“Hey, you’re not wearin’ green,” you say once you’re outside in the cool night air. The air feels fresh yet too silent after being in that stuffy place.

“Hmm?” Eddie hums as he helps you into the passenger’s seat.

“No green! Is St. Pagrick Day though!”

“Your birthday is a far more important holiday,” he says as he closes the door for you. He doesn’t even consider if you heard the words or not, it was his inner monologue just coming out.

The drive back to the apartment starts off with you chattering on, still feeling good from the drinks.

“It’s so cute that the boys wanna buy me MiDonal’s! They’re the sweetest boys ever. Where are we goin’? Oh, hey! You’re movin’ into your new aparment soon. Do you still wan’ me to—hey look, a dog!—wan’ me to go shopping for the stuff that you need? Eddie? Are you still mad at me? I hope not. I don’t like when we fight. I never wanna fight witchu. I love you! I never loved no one before, ya know. Just you! I was only bein’ such a pain in the butt because I wanna be by your side. Like partners. Wanna help you and have fun with you and do all the things with you. I hope you wanna be that with me too! Like Bonnie and Clyde! But no stealing or dying. Do you, hey, hey Eddie, do you remember that time a long time ago you said you liked that blue shirt I wore? Ya know, the one with the buttons and sleeves? Well, now it’s my favorite—”

Eddie glances over, concerned that your speech—that was highly amusing to him—stopped so abruptly. You’re just looking up at the streetlights as they pass, your eyes getting heavier by the second, the mesmerizing sight lulling you to sleep.

Eddie chuckles to himself and the rest of the drive is quiet.

When you finally arrive back at the apartment, you’re practically comatose in the passenger seat. Eddie half carries you up the stairs and holds you close to his side with one arm while he unlocks the door with the other.

Somehow, he manages to get you laying down on your bed without bumping into anything on the way. You look up at him with a sleepy smile that Eddie swears is the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m gonna help you change, okay? I don’t think that dress will be comfortable to sleep in.”

You nod absentmindedly as Eddie grabs a pair of your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Eddie is an expert at undressing you by now but it’s harder when your body can’t even hold itself up. The green dress gets stuck on your nose as Eddie pulls it off over your head and it makes you giggle, though it’s much softer than your laughter in the car. He slips your pink plaid pajama bottoms over your white lace panties and chuckles to himself as he sees he pulled a Rugrats t-shirt out of your drawer. An amused smile grows on his face as he shakes his head.

“Better?” he asks.

A big yawn accompanies the nod that you give him. Satisfied that you’re not going to fall over if he lets go, Eddie walks towards the head of the bed so he can pull your blankets down. It takes both of you working together to get you beneath the blankets.

Once you’re settled, Eddie shucks himself out of his jeans and t-shirt and climbs in bed next to you. Without any hesitation, you scoot over and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to your head.

Eddie isn't sure if in the morning, once you’ve sobered up, you’ll still be fighting or not. He doesn’t want to be, but he also knows the issues haven’t been resolved between the two of you. What you said tonight about Eddie not loving you definitely has to be addressed tomorrow—whether you were drunk or not when you said it, he doesn’t care.

Soft snores begin to fill your room and Eddie smiles to himself. His eyes slip closed, and he holds you a little tighter against his body.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says into the darkness.

You wake up the next morning with a dull headache. It definitely could be worse, especially considering how much you’d drank last night.

There’s two Tylenol and a bottle of water on your nightstand, none of which you remember putting there…

You shift positions and see Eddie curled up on the pillow next to you, wearing just his boxers. Soft snores punctuate the rise and fall of his chest.

“Eddie?” you whisper, eyes wide.

He stirs and stretches, giving you a small smile.

“Morning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um, just a headache. Not too much of a hangover.” You’re working to figure out exactly why he’s here.

He grins. “Must be nice to be 21,” he jokes. “I have one beer too many and I’m out of commission for a week.”

You’re too focused on the maybe-boyfriend-shaped elephant in the room to laugh at his joke. Instead, you take a deep breath and muster up all of your courage.

“Did we, um…”

Eddie pulls back. “No. Nope!” He shakes his head. “I brought you home and we fell asleep. I promise.”

You nod, relief flooding your body. “Okay. Okay, good.” You swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I’ll make some breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You get out of bed and stretch your muscles before heading towards the door. But first you stop and look back at Eddie. “I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”

“No,” Eddie assures you. “Your knight in shining leather got there before anything could happen.” He flexes his muscles dramatically, which causes you to chuckle as you step out of your room and into the bathroom.

Eddie puts his clothes from yesterday back on and heads out to the kitchen. He makes pancakes, and you come out of your room freshly showered and dressed just as they’re ready.

“Smells good,” you say, rubbing at your eye. The shower helped wake you up, but your body is still tired from last night.

You and Eddie sit down across from one another and start eating in silence before you can’t take it anymore.

“Um, where are the boys?” you ask, desperate for some semblance of an interaction.

“Harrington’s,” Eddie answers before shoving a mouthful of syrup-covered pancake into his mouth. “Steve and Nance said they got them, I should go to you.”

“And, uh, why did you show up? I mean, did you change your mind about celebrating with us or..?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “Wayne was, um, actually at the bar last night with some guys from his work. He saw some assholes starting to get handsy with you, so he called me.”

“Oh.” You stay quiet as you move a few pieces of pancake around on your plate.

You had hoped Eddie had changed his mind and wanted to spend your birthday night with you after all, but he was only there because his uncle called him.

Eddie bites his lower lip, hating the tension in the air. The two of you used to sit in comfortable silences with one another, so this is excruciating.

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie says before pausing to clear his throat. “It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with you. Because I did. I do. I always do. I just, I don’t know, thought I’d bring the party down. I didn’t want you to feel like I was supervision or some shit like that. And I wasn’t sure how I’d meld in with your friends.”

“Eddie,” you start before taking a deep breath. “I never think of you as some authority type figure. You’re just Eddie. Like, yeah, maybe you’re twelve years older than me, but I don’t really feel like there’s this chasm between us or anything. Do…do you?”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, making sure he picks his words carefully so as not to give you a wrong impression. “When it’s you and me? No. When it’s us and the boys? No. But when it comes to you hanging out with your friends, I guess I feel, I don’t know, like I don’t belong.”

“Belong where?”

He sighs and twirls one of his rings around his finger as a nervous twitch. “When I see your friends it’s this reminder that I’m not your age. It feels like all the shit that I try not to let bother me is unavoidable as I see you with guys it would be more socially acceptable for you to date. Or seeing your girl friends going off to do things with their boyfriends that I can’t because of my job and kids. It makes me feel selfish.” His eyes mist over for a second. “Like I’m keeping you from that.”

“Eddie, no one is keeping me from anything. Especially you. You act like I don’t have a choice or say in this. I’m pretty sure you didn’t kidnap me and rope me into an arranged marriage or something.” You give a small smile, hoping to ease some of the frustration radiating off of him. “I don’t want someone my age. I don’t want someone younger. I don’t want someone older that isn’t you.”

“I know that,” Eddie says. “I swear, I do. I guess I’ve had a number done on me, though. Got beaten down enough that the insecurity comes second nature. It’s not your fault, you shouldn’t have to pay for things that she did.”

“Can I beat her?”

He chuckles and seeing him smile makes a genuine one grow on your own face.

“She’s not worth it,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “But I see where you were coming from with being upset. It probably did seem like I just didn’t want to go out with you and your friends. I’m sorry. I also get where you’re coming from with the court stuff. Wanting to be by my side. Princess, you have no idea how much that means to me. Honestly. I just…I don’t want you to have to be in the middle of all of that.”

“I know,” you say, lowering your eyes back down to your plate. “I’m sorry, too. I was overstepping when it came to Brittany. That’s your ordeal, you get to call the shots when it comes to that. I only want you to know that you have my support. In whatever way you need it.”

He reaches across the table and slips his hand into yours. “I promise to tell you in what ways I’ll need your support through this whole thing.”

You nod and give his hand a small squeeze. The air around you feels lighter and it’s as if weights have been lifted off your shoulders.

“Are—Are we okay?” you ask, wanting to clarify.

“We’re more than okay,” he reassures you as he returns your hand squeeze with one of his own. “But there is something else we need to talk about.”

“Sure. What?”

He sighs and gently taps your entwined hands against the tabletop. “Last night…when I got to the bar to pick you up, you, um, you said something. I know you were drunk but it still hurt.”

Immediately you feel mortified. Did I really…?

“I thought you said I didn’t do anything stupid?”

“Well, this was saying something stupid.”

How bad was it that it’s making him stall like this? “What did I say?” You wince, afraid to hear what you might’ve said in your inebriated state.

“You, uh, you said that I didn’t love you. That I didn’t come to the bar with you and your friends because I don’t love you.”

Your eyes are immediately flooded with tears. The heartbreak and shame you feel for uttering something so absurd cuts you deeply, and you push yourself out of your chair and walk around the table to Eddie. He scoots back so you can perch yourself in his lap.

Gently, you cup Eddie’s face in your hands and stare into his eyes. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Please always remember that. Sober, drunk, high, or otherwise in an altered state…I love you. I am so sorry I said that to you. It amazes me that somehow you love me, but that doesn’t mean I doubt it for a second.”

Eddie nods and wraps his arms around your waist. Your shirt rides up a little and his syrupy fingers rub against your skin—but you couldn’t care less.

“You’re mine,” you tell him. “I’m yours. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” Eddie agrees.

The two of you sit there together for a few silent minutes before Jess’s door creaks open and she shuffles into the kitchen, looking far worse than you felt when you woke up. She gives a half-hearted wave, as if even that small movement was too much for her.

Eddie smiles and nods his head towards the kitchen counter. “I made a stack of pancakes for you,” he says.

Jess heads towards the counter but pauses to put a hand on your shoulder. “If you don’t marry him, I will,” she vows.

Deciding to play hooky from school and work didn’t take much convincing for you or Eddie. You’re not feeling great, and he’s more than happy to take care of you.

You’re washing the breakfast dishes while Eddie stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y’know,” he murmurs just under your ear, “I had another birthday surprise up my sleeve.”

He pulls you closer, and you try—and fail—to focus on the task at hand. “And what’s that?”

He smirks and presses soft kisses into your neck. “Well, I bought a bottle of champagne,” he says, “and I figured we could have some drunk sex?”

You snap off the water and dry your hands, spinning to face him. “And where is this bottle of champagne, handsome?”

Eddie blushes slightly. “Um, at the Harringtons’ place,” he admits. “But we could still do the sex part, if you’re feeling up to it.”

You press your body to his, grinning widely. “Bedroom?”

“Hell yes.”

Clothes are shed instantly, leaving a trail that leads to your room. You lay back on the bed and Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting his leg between yours and kissing you softly.

“Let me take care of my birthday girl, hm?” he coos, nibbling on your ear. He chuckles when you whimper, two of his thick fingers trailing downward towards your pussy. “Oh, you poor thing. Needy already?”

“Mhm.”

He grins, scooting back and pressing his lips just above your clit. His tongue grazes your folds, over the sensitive bud, and he sucks on it gently. You moan when he positions your legs on his shoulders. “Keep making those noises, baby.”

You eagerly oblige, whining as he slips his middle finger into your pussy, tongue remaining trained on your clit. The overstimulation has you grinding against his face, desperate to get some relief.

He wraps his free hand around your thigh and squeezes it, bringing himself even closer into you. Muffled, barely audible fucks and tastes goods escape his lips, driving you even wilder.

“E-Eddie, I’m gonna cum!” you mewl, fingers digging into the bed sheets. He continues lapping at your cunt until you’re screaming his name.

Eddie pulls back, face shiny with your slick. “Need you,” he growls, and his painfully hard cock bobs in agreement.

He crawls up your body, pressing kisses to your soft flesh as he makes his way towards your neck. Teeth gently graze the side of your throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Taking advantage of your legs spread openly before him, Eddie settles himself between them and lines his cock up with your soaking entrance. It feels like it takes an eternity until he finally bottoms out, making you feel so full and revel in that exquisite stretch.

Sweat breaks out along your hairline and it melds with Eddie’s as he rests his forehead against yours. The bed beneath you shakes as your body rocks with your boyfriend’s. A slight tilt of his hips has your hands scrambling against the lilac sheet below you, desperate to hold on to something—anything. Eddie wants you to hold on to him, though. His pale toned arms seek out your own until he slips his hands into yours and threads your fingers together. Never breaking eye contact even for a second, Eddie holds your hands up above your head, staring down at you with a blissful expression on his face. He’s not smiling, but there’s a light in his eyes and the way his lips part just slightly only adds to your enjoyment.

“I love you, sweet girl,” Eddie says, voice low and husky in the small space you’re both occupying. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“L-Love you, too, Eds.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his hips roll up against yours. “You have the cutest nose. I hope any kids we have inherit that from you.”

With every thrust of Eddie’s hips, he lists another thing he loves about you.

“Your lips are so soft. Sometimes I get torn between kissing them or staring at them. And your laugh? God, you have no idea what that does to me. It’s so infectious and bubbly and completely genuine. One of the best sounds in the world.”

There’s nothing else in the world right now other than Eddie’s voice and Eddie’s body. All that exists is the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as pleasurable groans and whimpers fall from your lips. Sweet sighs and shared breath connect you both, adding to the already dizzying intimacy. You stare up into those large brown eyes and for that moment everything is perfect in the world. The moment belongs to you, and nothing will ever take it from you.

Eddie leans in to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips. He pulls away only far enough for you to fix your gazes on one another’s eyes again. His hip thrusts are becoming increasingly erratic, a sign that he’s nearing his finish.

Curls sway back and forth around his face, like a curtain keeping you two separated from everything else.

More than anything, you know what’s going to have you reaching your high is the locked stares you share. Eddie looks so intently into your eyes, as if he’ll find answers to all of his problems in them. It’s sexier than any words either of you could possibly vocalize. The look says so much more than your voices ever could.

“I’m close,” you tell him in a rough whisper. Your fingers tighten on his and Eddie’s hips rock slightly harder into yours.

“Me too, baby.”

The urge to close your eyes floats over you as your impending orgasm gets closer by the second, but you refuse. Even blinking is too long to look away from the eyes of the man you love. Eddie agrees, never taking those brown beauties off of you as he feels his release closing in.

“Eddie,” you whimper, more just needing to say his name than anything else. “Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

“I know, my love.”

“Gonna cum, Eds,” you slur.

“With me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out more than speak.

All it takes is two more thrusts before Eddie’s spilling into you. Him coating your walls with his release is enough to have you falling headfirst into your euphoria as well.

Both of you ride it out together, trying to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it that you could from one another. By the lazy smiles you give one another as you try and catch your breaths, you’d say that you both enjoyed it very much.

Eddie leans down and presses a sweet but sensuous kiss to your lips before begrudgingly pulling out of you. Neither of you like it, so you’re quick to cuddle up to one another, desperate to have your arms wrapped around the warm skin of his middle.

“That was…wow,” you say after a few minutes of companionable silence.

“Very wow,” Eddie agrees, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Y’know, there’s something else I’d like to add to that list, now that I have blood flowing to my brain.”

“Yeah?”

“Your heart,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Just when I think it can’t get any bigger or warmer, you prove me wrong time and time again. The kindness and generosity that you have is something I’ve never seen in another person. You’re so amazingly you and I’ve been enchanted by it since the day I met you. Sometimes I feel like this is all a fairytale except the prince is the one constantly swept off his feet.”

“The princess is too,” you assure him through increasingly labored breath. “Very, very swept.”

Letting your suddenly heavy eyes slip closed, you tuck your head beneath Eddie’s chin and revel in his touch. A nap with you in his arms sounds like heaven right now, but Eddie knows there’s something he has to say before he forgets.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” Your sleepy voice brings a smile to his face.

“Luke asked me to bring over McDonalds.”

“C’mon, let’s go hit the drive-thru.”

You move to get up, but Eddie keeps you right where you are.

“Not yet. Naps first. Food for gremlins later.”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his bare chest.

“Naps first,” you agree.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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readychilledwine · 17 days

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Threesome

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth ✨️

Threesomes fall into a few different play types: domination, voyeurism and exhibitionist, and Zelophilia *jealousy play/competition play* and there is a ton of psychologically behind why couples or even singles looking for new fun may partake in one. Threesomes are so desired in the kink community for a few reasons. Here's a few of the most common:

Polyamory - Some people genuinely do enjoy sexual and non sexual connections with multiple partners, so threesomes are a natural outcome of that mindset and lifestyle. It isn't for everyone, but for those who enjoy having multiple partners, there is nothing more satisfying than getting to express the love and joy you all share in one mess of flesh and sweat.

Sexuality exploration (especially among the bisexual community) - it helps allow you to explore questioning sexuality or known sexuality with multiple genders, two people of the same gender, gender fluid people. It can also help if you have a bisexual partner who misses the touch and feel of the sex they are not currently with.

And rekindling - a threesome is an exciting new experience a lot of people do not commonly get to try due to insecurity, jealousy, lack of foundation and trust in the relationship, but when/if you are lucky enough to get to have one, it's. So. Thrilling. It is a new person you get to show off for, a new performance, a new stimulant. It can help rekindle passion, bring new spark, and in some cases teach new methods and positions you haven't tried before.

Threesomes are not something to just casually throw into your love life, though. Threesomes can destroy a relationship as quickly as they can add to it. You have to make sure you and your partner agree on your third that boundaries are set and understood and that you both feel secure. Otherwise, like we talked about with cucking, this can destroy a relationship fast.

Also, before the ask even comes in. Yes. The answer to your question is yes, because at least one of you is going to secretly wonder and possibly send the anon.

💕Peep the Kink Bingo Masterlist Here💕

✨️ As always, NSFW below cut ✨️

Lucien x Reader x Azriel

Warnings - dom!Lucien, sub!reader, switch!Azriel, oral (m and f), competitiveness, mentions of Tamlain (which has potential as a ship 🤔), technically dp, praise kink, ps this dynamic was hard to write, so I went with my heart, hopefully it isn't disappointing.

“She doesn't even want you!” You sighed, swirling the wine you had been nursing for the past 30 minutes as Lucien and Azriel fought.

It was no wonder Elain had run and fallen straight into Tamlin's arms. The two males before you were constantly at odds with each other, constantly stroking their own egos, fighting like children trying to claim the last piece of candy, and quite frankly, they were irritating.

You sighed as your mate's winged flared in anger at that statement, "And what? Do you think she wants YOU? That's comical, Vanserra. Really." You had thanked the Mother and Cauldron for Azriel daily, you truly had, but something about Lucien had captured your mind, and the male, still upset about his own bond failing due to your mate, had taken advantage of that. That didn't stop you from loving Azriel, though. From wanting him. From wanting both of them.

You two had not planned on falling in love with both, but here you were, married to Lucien due to a drunken night in Adriata and mated to Azriel.

You didn't understand why Elain felt the need to choose and to chase. You could have them both if you wanted, and just to prove that point, you untied the satin robe you were wearing, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Lucien was the first to notice as Azriel continued ranting. His hand had gone to your thigh instantly, eyes locked on your own as he devoured the sight before him. You reached for his shirt, pulling you to him and settling him on top of you. “You sure?” It took Lucien's husky voice dripping in desire for Azriel's shadows to curl his ears, whispering that you were staring at him, waiting.

“I want you both. Please.” Lucien was more than happy to oblige, placing soft kisses down your body, relishing in every noise as Azriel stared, eyes wide in lust and shock.

Lucien wasted no time, going to where you wanted him most and nipping at your inner thigh as he placed them over his shoulders. Lucien looked up at you, eyes locking on yours as he took his first lick at your core. He smirked with pride as your head fell back, a mix of a moan and sigh leaving your throat. You reached on hand to Azriel, the other tangling into Lucien's hair. Azriel moved to you, breath slightly hitched. He squatted down by you, grabbing your throat gently right as Lucien locked your bundle of nerves between his lips, licking and sucking on it.

Azriel held you in place for him, a smirk growing on his face. “Look so pretty like this, baby,” his free hand moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples and groaning as he watched you try to squirm only to be held in place by Lucien. Azriel tutted you softly, “Be good for Lucien, sweetness. Gotta listen and stay where he wants you, or I'll just play with him while you watch.”

Lucien groaned against you, fingers squeezing your thighs as if he enjoyed the thought of that. He looked up at you, one eye whirling to search for any sign of discomfort, the other blown out with lust and need.

Lucien didn't eat you out like a male starved. No, every lick and suck was methodically planned. It served a purpose to send wave after wave of pleasure down nerves begging for more and more. You heard Azriel's clothing coming off, and you felt the room shift as you got closer. “Hurry up and finish her off, Lucien. The quicker we get her onto the bed, the sooner you find out what a gift her mouth is.” You whimpered, drooling at the thought of choking on Lucien. "You want that, don't you, y/n?"

Azriel forced you to nod, laughing at your big eyes and quick submission. Azriel pushed Lucien's head further into your cunt, watching with heated eyes as your head went back further into the pillows, breathing becoming more shallow and rushed. "Gods, she's fucking close. Look at you, Lucien, making our girl so happy. Do you want her to cum for you?” Lucien grabbed your thighs higher, pulling you into him more and moaning at Azriel's hand, tugging and tangling in his red locks. "How lucky am I? Two beautiful submissive little creatures both so eager to please.”

You felt Lucien's smirk, knowing he had just as much of a dominant streak in him. You were just happy to be there. To play the part of this needy creature, especially if it meant drowning in pleasure. Lucien pushed a finger into you, curling it and chuckling as you gasped his name, toes curling. He focused on you and you alone, not even watching as Azriel went down to you whispering in your ear as his scarred hands tweaked and played with your nipples.

You were a mess for them already. Core drenched and begging, clenching around Lucien's single finger tighter and tighter as your moans and cries began louder. Falling over the edge with Lucien was always easy. He didn't make you see stars. He made you see worlds. He made you cry and beg. It was no different with an audience. Lucien forced you over that edge, hands tangling into his hair, screaming his name, and coaxing little noise after noise of over stimulation from you once your high ended. And then jealousy flooded that bond you shared with Azriel.

Azriel lifted you from the couch as Lucien watched, taking you over to your bed and tossing you down with effort. Lucien seemed surprised by the smile that appeared in your face as you got onto your knees, hands roaming Azriel's chest as the male pulled your hair back and forced you into a rough kiss.

You held a hand out to Lucien as he did, a quiet invitation to join you two instead of just watching. Perhaps it was selfish, but you wanted his hands on you, wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel both of them. Lucien came to the bed and started kissing down your neck, warm hands resting on your hips. “So fucking beautiful, baby,” his voice caressed your ear, sending shivers up and down your body.

Azriel pulled apart, hazel eyes filled with lust. His hand went to Lucien's face, and his thumb traced his plush lips. “I believe she thinks the same thing about you.” Azriel ran his hand down to Lucien's throat, squeezing it softly, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

It was then that you giggled, and Lucien smirked, “Are you?” The question sent electricity through the air. It bought a new challenge, a new competition between the two males. You scooted away as Azriel studied Lucien, watching and waiting. “I promise you this is a game I will win,” Lucien raised a brow to Azriel. “Can you handle that?”

For the first time in the many years of friendship you and Azriel shared, you saw him blush, “I-”

“Let us take care of you, Azriel,” the domination in Lucien's tone was so gentle. “When's the last time someone took care of you?” Lucien stood and moved Azriel to sit on the bed. With a quiet authority, he used two fingers to beacon you over to him. “Lovely, I want you to undress him for us.”

“Yes sir,” Your hands went to the clasps around Azriel's wings, undoing them while you kissed the side of his neck. Once the back was able to free his wings, you moved in front of him, hands running over the smooth fabric before pulling the shirt off.

You had to resist the urge to lick every dark bargain tattoo to trace each swirl like you knew Azriel loved. Lucien had given you a task. One you had to focus on. Your hands went to his pants, and he stood to allow you to slide them and his underwear down. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. It was hard, leaking, ready. Lucien grabbed you by the back of your neck, stopping you from what you desperately wanted to do. “Hands and knees on the bed. You have to be good to earn his cock.”

Azriel watched you obey in silence. Lucien wasn't forcing. He wasn't rough, and he didn't have you screaming and drooling. He just commanded and used gentle touches, and you obeyed. “Do you want to get her ready, or do you want me to?”

“I will,” Azriel ran a hand over your ass and Lucien stopped him before he could spank you.

“Be gentle with our girl. She's been such a good listener. She deserves soft tonight.” Azriel could hardly understand what that meant, what being soft in bed meant. “Submission is a gift. Look at how easily she handed us that present. Doesn't she deserve to be treated well for being such a good girl?”

Azriel felt a wave of something setting in. If he was good, would he get a reward? Would he get to be loved this gently? He ran a finger through your core, making you cry out, and slowly, he pushed it in. You felt your eyes roll as he did, feeling yourself stretching around just his finger.

You had always told Azriel how much you loved his scars, and it took him fingering you 3 times for him to find out why. He began to open you slowly, pressing each movement in the area he knew you loved the most. Lucien leaned down and captured Azriel's mouth in a long overdue kiss.

This is what they needed the whole time. And outlet to their mutual attraction. A place they could safely explore each other. Lucien began to stroke Azriel's cock as Azriel added another finger inside of you. Your moans and cried were background music to them as Lucien pulled his mouth away. “Do you want her pussy or her mouth? I'm more than happy to just watch you fuck her while she sucks me off.”

Azriel hummed, “She's more than capable of handling-”

“She wants one of us in her mouth. We've had enough sex at this point while you've been enjoying the pleasure houses that I know her. If she was in the mood for anal, she'd be very vocal about it.”

Azriel's fingers pressed hard into your gspot, making you scream his name. “Please. I need more. I need-”

“Don't beg,” Azriel growled at you. Lucien glared as you whimpered in submission. “I also know her. Look at how wet and ready she is. She could handle it.”

“It's not a question of can or can't, Az. It's if she wants to. Y/n, what do you want?”

Azriel felt your core Tighten around him, pleased Lucien cared about your wants and needs. “Not anal,” Lucien motioned towards you after your answer.

“If you let me pick, I'm taking her mouth,” Lucien said plainly.

Azriel huffed and nodded, “I've never been this gentle with her.”

“Clearly. She loves it. Look at her.” It was true you did. You were relaxed in a state of complete bliss, moaning as Azriel's fingers touched all the best places. Azriel was memorized by the sight. By you not bending and breaking to his will as a dom, but flowing and thriving under another male's. You listened without question, didn't mouth off to Lucien. This side of you, this pretty girl, he liked her almost as much as he loved his little brat.

He loved the part of you that sassed him, that pushed him, but this, this beautiful offering of whatever they wanted as long as you wanted it as well, it made his heart flutter. Azriel moved behind you as Lucien moved in front of you. Your hand was instantly on the Day Court heir’s cock, stroking him in time with Azriel's fingers. “Whenever you're ready, Az,” Lucien was staring into your eyes as he spoke. “She's ready.”

Azriel took his fingers out, coating himself in your essence before lining up with you. Taking Azriel was always a stretch, and Lucien praised you both all the way through it, “Look at how good you two are. Perfect little pets for me, aren't you?”

Azriel groaned at his words as he began a gentle but deep pace. He hit every spot so perfectly filling you like your body had been made for him. You focused then on Lucien's aching cock, moaning as you licked your way up and took the head into your mouth. Lucien relaxed on his knees, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he guided you in time with Azriel.

It did not take long for the pace to get frenzied, for the two males to be focused in bringing you to completion again in order to allow them to chase their own highs.

Each moan around Lucien had his head falling back, and each twitch of your core had Azriel cursing. You could feel heat rising and building. You could feel core lower stomach getting tight in need.

Azriel looked to Lucien and the male smirked and nodded. You screamed as Azriel began pounding into you. His thrusts became rough and deep. He arched your back more allowing him to hit your gspot over and over as he pushed you further onto Lucien's cock.

Lucien smirked down at you, “This is when you look prettiest, you know that? Choking on a cock, stuffed full. You look so pretty when your eyes glaze over and you get desperate. You want to cum, don't you angel?” You could only moan around him in response as Azriel grabbed your arms, leaving you fully at their mercy and forcing your muscles to strain.

The heat in the room grew to a roaring fire as the noise of slick and skin meeting skin rang in the air. You could feel that boil threatening to burst, feel it aching as you were used by the two males you love. This was heaven. It was safety. It was burning passion. A shadow moved to your clit and you lost it. Moan became whines and whimpers.

You could tell Lucien was close. His eyes were screwed shut. His pace in your mouth was sloppy. Between your tongue, the vibrations of your pleasure, and newness of the 3 of you together, you could feel him twitching, feel him ready to release.

He held you to him as he came, and Azriel continued pounding. You swallowed every drop of him greedily and whined as he pulled out. “She's so close,” Lucien forced you to look at Azriel.

Your mate smirked before planting one foot on the bed and his pace became impossibly faster. Both males laughed as your eyes rolled in pleasure and your jaw fell open. Azriel groaned loudly as you tightened around him, “That's our good girl. Cum for us. Finish on my cock.”

With a flick of a shadow and one well aimed thrust you fell apart, screaming as you tumbled from that edge. Azriel immediately lost himself in the feel of you pulsing around him and found his release moments later, listening as Lucien praised you and talked you through your high, guiding you back to them.

You collapsed into Lucien's lap and Azriel into your back. The room was filled with the sounds of labored breathing. Azriel gently pulled out of you and Lucien took the towel the house summoned to clean you all off.

You had never been more thankful for a large bed in your life as the three of you laid there processing what had happened. “This is happening again,” you declared firmly. Lucien just nodded, and Azriel agreed softly.

"I've never handed over control," Azriel confessed softly. "I've never done that."

Lucien just smirked at his accomplishment, "Then, with me is a safe place to learn."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

Kink Bingo Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

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@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien acotar #lucien x reader x azriel #lucien fic #lucien smut #azriel fic #azriel smut #poly acotar fic

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genderfluid-insomniac · 5 months

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Mechanic Wukong and Street Artist Macaque with a poly reader

Artists: pedrinho_lmk (left) and @scotchy-pie-art (right)

Mechanic Sun Wukong

Originally met you when your car broke down for seemingly no reason on your way to work and called a tow company that took your car into his shop. Wukong’s always been a morning person, even though he loves sleeping in, so he’s working down his list of chores with a white tank top covered in spots of grease and oil.

Wukong usually has his hair pulled back and will ask you to tie his fluffy ginger hair back so it doesn’t get caught in any car parts or dirty from oil. Loudly purrs when you comb through his mane, carefully detangling knots and cleaning any bits of dirt or grit.

Whenever you have a day off to stop by the shop he’ll purposely wipe off anything on his face with his tank top which shows bits of his bare stomach. He’ll use any and every excuse to take off his shirt, saying it’s too hot out or he doesn’t want to ruin his clothing which is already covered in oil and grease.

Wukong’s very strong already from training but his job only enhances that because cars are a couple of tons and he has a habit of sticking part of his tongue out when he’s focused which makes your mind wander.

A good part about your mate being a mechanic in addition to being the great sage is that with his powers he can find the issue with the vehicle quickly with the help of his eyes of truth which helps him end the day early a lot of the time and lets him get back to you earlier than usual.

You both love it when he throws and catches you in the air or carries you in an absurd but secure position partially to show off to others and you. You love it because it gives you butterflies and you’re never scared he’s going to drop you because he cares so much for you and he’s not that much of an airhead when it comes to you.

He's a great multitasker cause he can use his tail which comes in hand for both working and at home ;) Unfortunately, it is usually used for the various colors of paint splattered on a car, sometimes in a design or pattern, while his main focus is the engine or undercarriage.

Street Artist Macaque

Speaking of paint, Macaque is a well-known street artist who only leaves a special signature of his and so because of that he doesn’t have to worry about being recognized or harassed by police. All of his work is done with passion and originality, very rarely his art is on private property or people’s belongings and some are inspired by things he’s seen or people that are interesting to him (i.e. you).

However, a fair amount of his work is purposely painted on cars because he knows Wukong’s probably going to be the one to deal with it and adores the groans of agony from his frenemy. You’re kind of disappointed at his smug grin whenever Wukong throws a wrench or whatever is in reach of him at your boyfriend who partially deserves it and shouts an apology to the mechanic who greets you kindly.

He first met you when he was spray painting a unique design about a recent protest to raise awareness in his special way on a sidewall of a coffee shop when you walked out to take out the trash and saw him floating mid-spray as your eyes met his golden ones. You turned your head to call for your manager but got silenced by Macaque’s hand covering your mouth and gave him 2 minutes to explain, long story short you both intrigued each other and started to have dates discussing both of your jobs. Mainly he doesn’t solely rely on his work as an artist but also as a performer and combat instructor.

He does adore it when you sneak out with him to help with his art or to provide company as he paints although he’d much prefer you get a healthy amount of sleep each night even if he feels a bit lonely without you. Your health is a priority to him but if it’s during the day and in a more discreet place whether alleyway or back of the building he’ll bring you with him, often taking breaks to eat lunch while you both talk about certain aspects of that design that could be improved or highlighted.

You’re well aware of his artistic gifts because of the looks he gives you before you leave or anytime you’re near a work of his art and usually the crowd surrounding the artwork gives it away as well. It’s never expressed obviously that it’s you in the piece of art because if it was then you might be questioned about the identity of the rogue artist who is secretly your boyfriend and Macaque wouldn’t want that ever. So a lot of them have the symbolism of you and what he loves about you, some of them having somewhat clear images of your face if you squint and those are personally his favorites.

He assures you he’s very good at remaining hidden when doing his “illegal” street art because of his advanced hearing shadow powers so with both it’s very easy to make a quick escape if he hears the police or sees something that’d get him caught. It also comes in handy when you’re out with him if he’s ever in danger or if someone attacks since it means he can get you out of there quickly. This goes the same for if you run into trouble with him at night since you have self-defense and your boyfriend has helped by giving you tips on how to improve. He’s going to prioritize you if anything happens despite any claims from you and he won’t let anything hurt you regardless if it’s to get back at him or not.

Mechanic Sun Wukong + Street Artist Macaque (poly)

Surprise surprise you met both of them when they were trying to spite one another which as one could guess is when Macaque was trying to get back at Wukong so he spray-painted your car with a crude design and so you had to forget heading to work. That led you to Wukong’s repair shop and saw the very annoyed look on his face when he saw the trouble you were facing, especially since you both found the other very attractive eventually when he was able to remove the paint you both exchanged numbers. He threw out some obvious flirts about how beautiful you were and you couldn’t ignore how he was shirtless surely because of how hot it was showing off how toned and gorgeous he was.

Macaque however followed his “victim” through their shadow and relished in the annoyance he saw he gave the king, turning to see the no-doubt pain on his victim’s face only to see your divine face twisted in a frown and now regretting defacing your car. On the one hand, he was glad he met you but on the other, he already ruined your day and you seemed like a nice person. The fact that Wukong flirted with you only made him annoyed and he already wanted to know you more (after he apologized first of course), spiting him by becoming closer to you was a bonus now since he’d already planned to ask you out and now he had the perfect introduction planned. Shortly after you got out of work, he popped up beside your car and apologized in his own special way, flirting with you with a smirk proudly on his face and genuinely apologizing before getting your number.

Both of them ended up finding out they were attempting to date you and only tried to one-up each other in terms of winning your heart, making it a bit too obvious that you were the center of their affections and trying to make help understand you loved them both. You were able to get them both inside your apartment and sit them down to say that you loved them both dearly and couldn’t choose, all of you agreeing to a polyamorous relationship and ending the night in cuddles.

In your free time, you can often find both of your boyfriends playing their silly game of back and forth which leads to a repeated war of the whole thing. Meanwhile, all you want is to just be cuddled and not pay for excess repairs if it’s your car even with your boyfriend doing it free of cost. It takes little to convince them to give up their squabbles and give each of them kisses or any kind of affection and they’ll melt into your hands. Both of them will protect you from any harm (whether it’s from police from Mac’s illegal art or enemies who want to use you to get to Wukong) and it’s one of the few things there’s never any arguing on, focusing on your safety and taking care of the threat while the other makes sure you’re alright or hidden.

#lmk macaque #lmk x reader #monkie kid macaque #six eared macaque #lmk macaque x reader #macaque x reader #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie king #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong

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yayakoishii · 1 month

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Sober (Pt. 2) | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre/Tags: Angst, Happy Ending, Sanji being dumb

Summary: You had waited for Sanji to confess to you when he was sober. Except...

A/n: I don't usually write sequels but I felt like it and then it became unexpectedly angsty?? It's still a pretty happy ending imo, so I hope you like this continuation ♡

To new readers, this is a part 2 to my oneshot that I've linked below. You could read this one without reading that, but it won't make as much sense.

Part 1

also available on ao3!

He didn't do it.

The morning after, Sanji woke up with a terrible headache and vague hazy memories from the night before. It was only when he was serving breakfast to everyone and saw you that he remembered the… conversation you two had had. But then he dismissed it, realising it was only a dream. He had drank too much, fallen asleep and dreamt of you. Yeah, that must have been it.

Thinking so, he smiled at you as usual and mooned over Nami and Robin as always, not noticing your hopeful smile turn into a disappointed one.

Every time you popped into the kitchen or tried to strike up a conversation with Sanji after that, the dream would pop up in his mind and he ended up stammering his way out. A few days in, you realised he was avoiding you and started reciprocating by not going out of your way to talk to him either.

Sanji missed you. He didn't realise what the problem was because he wasn't being that weird. Okay, so maybe he was too flustered from his dream where you had held him so close and he had kissed you (he could still feel the phantom warmth of your breath on his mouth, the wet press of your lips on his cheek) and it was difficult to talk to you about anything without feeling the urge to do that with you. Maybe he had shut down one conversation too many but now you were avoiding him back and he didn't know how to fix it.

He couldn't just tell you about that dream he had had. You would slap him and be disgusted and freak out. Even the thought of that sunk his heart. He could tolerate being just a crewmate to you for the rest of your lives, but he couldn't tolerate the thought of you hating him forever. But without talking about the dream, he couldn't explain himself either.

A week passed like that, the two of you awkward and clumsy around each other. Everyone else noticed and Nami had tried to talk to both you and Sanji about it but neither of you let her know anything. They were all confused and Luffy just wanted you both to go back to being your usual selves because it was weird even for him. Of course, no one had the gall to say it to your faces, and Nami had stopped Luffy from saying it when he tried.

Fortunately, a new island appeared and the usual straw hat cycle of finding a city in trouble and accidentally saving them played its hand. The resulting party had you downing a few bottles of wine, although Sanji knew how much you hated the taste of alcohol.

"Why would I drink that?" Your face had scrunched up the first time Sanji had questioned you about it. "It doesn't taste good to me at all. I'd rather drink the juice you make for me, Sanji."

There was no one on the ship who praised Sanji's cooking as much as you did. You didn't hesitate to compliment his food every single day and while Sanji was very secure in his cooking ability, it was still validating to hear how much you loved his food anyway.

This past week you hadn't complimented him even once. You had never gone this long without doing it so Sanji knew you had to be really upset with him. He had to try and fix this as soon as he could.

Even during the party, his head was full of thoughts of you. When he looked out for you, he found you slumped over a table, empty wine bottles lying all around you. Without thinking, Sanji made his way over and cleared away the bottles so that you wouldn't accidentally break one and hurt yourself. You stayed silent as you watched him.

"Do you want to go back to the Sunny, my dear?" Sanji looked at you finally, trying to exude his usual self. You shot him a glare and pouted, your cheeks puffing up in what was unmistakably anger.

"Go away," you hissed at him. Sanji had to blink away the thought of how much you resembled a cat in that moment. "I don' like lyin' liars who lie to me."

Sanji had expected you to be angry at him but that statement confused him. He had avoided you, yes, but he could not remember lying to you. You were not one to lie so perhaps there had been a misunderstanding between you two?

"Which lie are you talking about, (y/n)-chan?" He asked carefully. You froze and shot him another glare. Even angry, you looked cute.

"Which lie?" You sounded outraged. "How many lies have you told me, huh?!"

"Wh– that's not what I meant!" Sanji tried to calm you down but you stood up abruptly and started walking back to the Sunny. The chef was stunned for a second. You never just up and leave. He had really badly fucked this up. So of course he had to run after you. Sanji caught up to you halfway, skidding to a halt in your path so you couldn't move. "Wait! I really don't know what lie you're talking about, my love, but I'm sorry for it. I will do whatever it takes to beg for your forgiveness and then try my best to make the lie a reality."

You stopped glaring and shot him a heartbroken look instead. Sanji felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. Why did you look like that over… him?

"That's what it was supposed to be," you said quietly. The two of you were quite a way away from the din of the party so Sanji could make out the words. He was getting more confused but he had to be patient and hear you out. He couldn't fix his mistake if he didn't know what he had done. "You said that if this was real… you wanted to hold me. You said you would tell me how much I mean to you. That you would kiss me and tell me how much you love me. So why haven't you, Sanji? Do you not feel those things anymore? Or was it all a lie?"

Sanji froze. That was… that was the dream he had had! How did you know– Oh. Oh he had been so stupid. It hadn't been a dream at all. It had been real. And he had fucked it all up by avoiding you after all of that.

"Maybe I was the one who was an idiot for thinking you could possibly like me," you were crying now, tears running down your cheeks. Sanji's heart hurt at the sight; he had wanted to be the reason for your smile and laughter, not for your tears. He had hurt you, the person most precious to him. You suddenly grabbed his collar and pushed him into the tree and he just let you, mind too jumbled up to say anything. "I'm a fool. God, I was so stupidly happy that night, I couldn't sleep. I thought all my dreams had come true. I thought we would be in love. I thought I could finally wake you up with a kiss and tell you how much I loved you too before we fell asleep. I thought I would make you your favourite dish for your birthday and, and go do one of those love compatibility readings at the fortune telling shop for fun! I thought, I thought of so many things I wanted to do with you and you… Sanji, you never came. You never told me those words you had said when you were drunk."

He wanted all of that too. Sanji wanted to do all those things you had said and even more.

Your tightened fists loosened as you breathed heavily, still crying. Even like this, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen. If Sanji had had any doubts before this, then they had no place in his heart any longer. All of him, mind, body and soul, was yours. He could not let you go on with this misunderstanding any longer.

"Guess they were wrong," you chuckled wetly, stepping back. "A drunk man's words aren't his truest thoughts after all. They are just his–"

"They are," Sanji said roughly, stepping back into your bubble. You didn't look up at him, just stared down at your feet, still crying silently. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking all this time, my love, when you deserved to be told everyday that I'm but a fool for your attention. I was in the wrong, thinking that night had been a mere dream when my imagination cannot even begin to dream up the warmth you possess. I'm sorry and I will spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, if only you would find it within yourself to give me one more chance."

Your eyes looked hopeless, and you just smiled weakly at him.

"Hasn't it been enough, Sanji?" Your voice wavered. "Don't play with my heart anymore. I love you too much to survive another–"

Sanji pulled you into a tight hug, his arms surrounding you completely. Although you were still mad at him, your body automatically relaxed at the familiar comforting scent of him. "I don't have the words to even begin to apologise for what I have done. But I swear to you, love, I will make up for my mistake in every action from now on. I will leave no doubt in your mind of the fact that I'm madly, stupidly, disgustingly deeply in love with you. So much that my own heart isn't enough to hold all that love."

"You're like a dream, Sanji," you said quietly into his ear, heart racing yet mind calm. "A dream that you can't quite remember when morning comes. A dream that the more you try to grasp it, the more it slips from you. But even if you're a dream like that, I want to believe in that dream. I'm stupid enough to want to get my heart hurt again because it has chosen you and refuses to choose any other. So you better show me that my heart made the right decision."

"I will," he promised, pressing you harder into him. You were clinging onto him just as hard, but your tears had finally stopped.

"I don't like lying liars who lie, Sanji," you repeated your words from before. The chef smiled to himself. "You better keep your word this time."

Sanji hummed and let you go only to cup your cheeks in the palm of his hands. You looked at him, still a mess from crying and drinking. You were starting to look sleepy but Sanji felt like you had blown all his sleep away.

"When I'm sober," you paused to give a tiny yawn that had Sanji's heart clenching from how adorable it was, "you better be next to me."

Sanji smiled and picked you up bridal style. You curled into him and fell asleep in two seconds, barely catching his soft reply.

"I'll be there."

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

+ @vespidphoenix | @cobainlover | @blue-chup | @yourboyhack (tagging because you seemed interested in pt. 2; sorry if it's a bother!)

#one piece #one piece imagines #sanji fanfiction #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x you #sanji x reader #op sanji #black leg sanji #fanfic #sanji fanfic #angst #angst with happy ending #part 2 #one piece fanfic

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lowkeyren · 2 months

Text

fateful encounter!

in which — you decide to stay after the ball has ended, spending the night with the man that you just met… or sunday falls deeper in love with you.

pairing — sunday x gn!reader

༊*·˚✧.* — wc: ~1k, unestablished relationship, actually you're both just downbad for each other lmao, it's finally here ugjghdhs sorry for the delay loves, pls enjoy!! reblogs are appreciated <3

prequel / iridescent engravings (both can be read as a standalone)

as the last strains of music fades, the ball draws to a close and the guests begin to depart. you stood waiting in the ballroom, your heart yearning to meet sunday again, and perhaps get to know him better.

with each passing moment, you scanned the room, searching for any sign of him amidst the shrinking crowd. your pulse quickening with anticipation as you catch a glimpse of his familiar figure. but just as quickly as you blinked, he was nowhere to be found. you wonder if you've mistaken him for someone else… well that's not really possible either because you definitely saw a pair of fluffy wings just now.

just as you were about to turn away in disappointment, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. your heart skipping a beat as you found yourself face to face with sunday once again. he's just as divine as you last saw him.

you're absolutely ethereal, looking at him with those eyes of yours, oh aeons you really know how to leave him breathless.

"my sincerest apologies for keeping you waiting… would you like to join me for a stroll?"

with a soft smile, sunday extends his hand with a slight bow. without hesitation, you place your hand in his, the coolness of his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you follow him into the night. as you walk side by side, hands intertwined, you can’t help but feel flushed by the whole situation. you're grateful for the darkness that conceals your flushed cheeks, silently thankful that sunday is not looking at you right now—or so you believe.

he can feel your palm sweating through his gloves. cute. you’re trying so hard to focus on the path in front of you, but of course he notices the way your eyes dart to him when you think he’s not looking. yet he himself is not fully unaffected by you, a familiar warmth starts to bubble within him, a telltale sign of his embarrassment. with a subtle shift of his wings, he discreetly covers the redness that is slowly rising up his neck.

after a while, you come to a stop at the balcony. the chill night air caresses your skin, blowing against your face with a cool that makes you shiver. sunday notices your discomfort, he immediately slips off his coat and drapes it around your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth. the coat carries the faint scent of his cologne, a comforting touch that banishes the chill from your bones.

you smile and thank him, wrapping yourself deeper in his coat. he gently pulls you close; you lean into his side, laying your head on his shoulder, his arms around you, soft and secure.

if someone were to see you together right now— wrapped in his coat, nestled against his side with his arm around your waist, they would definitely be struck by the closeness between you, it's just so intimate. you feel giddy just thinking about it, you wonder if he feels the same too… would he be flustered by the thought or tease you with a playful remark.

he can sense you smiling against his shoulder. how adorable.

just then, dazzling displays of fireworks decorate the scene, painting the sky with streaks of purple, blue, and gold. illuminating the darkness, shimmering sparks cascading down as you stare in awe.

"look! isn't it just so beautiful…" your eyes light up as you marvel at the spectacle before you.

he looks at you from the corner of his eyes. how your hair flows like a river in the cool night breeze, framing your face perfectly. how you gawk at the sky, an innocent smile plastered on your face, blissfully unaware of the loud thumps of his heart.

"—yes, truly beautiful."

his hands reach to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. as his thumb brushes over the ring on your index finger, you subconsciously tighten your hand around his as a response.

he leans down, his breath tickling your ears, "perhaps the next ring will go on a different finger," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with mischief. you could feel your face burning up as you look at him with surprise evident on your face. his words hang in the air, lingering between you like a tantalising aroma.

oh he's sure your heart is racing just as fast as his now…

and he's right. your heart is racing with the implications behind his words, his sweet-honey voice reverberating in your head, and how absolutely charming this man can be.

you look back towards the sky, trying to distract yourself, but it's impossible when you're wrapped up in his coat, in his arms. you can't escape even if you tried —but not like you would want to. as if he heard your thoughts, he tightens his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, until you're sticking by his side.

as you bathe in the glow of the fireworks, a comfortable silence fills the air. you smile against his shoulder, admiring the beauty of the night.

—you, you're the beauty of tonight.

tonight, he wishes to be with you.

tonight, he wishes for nothing more than to hold you close, to savour every moment spent in your presence.

tonight, only you exist in his eyes.

and for every night to come, he wishes that you'll be by his side, he wishes to lose himself in the depth of your eyes, but for now he will bask in the rhythm of your hearts beating together in harmony.

༊*·˚✧.*

masterlist

#✧renwrites!#hsr x reader #sunday x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai starrail x reader #star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr fanfic #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x you #hsr imagines #sunday hsr #sunday x you #sunday fanfic #sunday honkai star rail

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blueicequeen19 · 6 months

Text

Methods

Warnings: non-con, drugging, kidnapping, use of toys, overstimulation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, choking, throat training

My eyes water as I blink against the hardness of the single lightbulb in the mildew, scented shack I'm being kept in. It was dark when they grabbed me and it appears to be still dark outside judging by the chill in my bones from still being in my bikini. I curse myself for not listening to my brother when he told me not to go anywhere alone. I didn't think that applied to night surfing in my own backyard. I shift my weight from foot to foot, my wrists killing me from being tied together with scratchy rope and suspended above my head.

My brother will make them pay.

I will make them all pay.

"She lives." I turn towards the voice, my hands balling into fists as JJ Maybank steps into the light. I didn't notice him before but I quickly take in the black duffle bag on the small wooden table, a single chair, and a small folding bed.

"You sound disappointed." My voice cracks, my lips chapped and in need of water. I don't even sound like myself.

"More like relieved. I gave you a pretty high dose to knock you out. It would've sucked if I accidentally killed you." Bits and pieces of our altercation start to come back to me and I smirk over the sight of his busted lip. His face remains hard and his eyes stay narrowed. I know I'm in a bad situation and what this is all about but I can't find it in myself to care. If I die protecting my family then I do.

"You're awfully cocky for someone tied up." JJ bites out, stepping closer to glare down his nose at me. I try to seize the opportunity of his closeness but he's quicker, his ringed fingers wrapping around my throat and shoving my back against the wood paneling before I can attempt to headbutt him.

"Don't even think about it." JJ growls, tightening his grip to the point that my eyes water and my throat burns. I thrash against him, worried I'll pass out when he finally loosens his grip enough to let me suck in a rough breath.

"You.. might as.. well skip to... the torture because I w-won't.. talk." I spat, his hand still hot on my throat. His thumb strokes my pulse point as he leans into my neck, his musky cologne filling my head as he inhales deeply.

"You smell like a wet dog." JJ murmurs, his lips next to my ear. I jerk against his hold as his hand tightens around my throat again. "But there are other ways of getting someone to talk." His voice lowers to a sinister whisper that has panic settling deep in my bones.

"Not so mouthy now, are ya?" JJ taunts as he shoves his knee between mine and presses against my pussy, making me squirm and whimper.

"Girls like you who are used to being in control want nothing more than to be dominated. Tied up, held down, and fucked until they can't walk." I jerk against him, unable to speak from the tight grip on my throat as he moves his knee back and forth. I stare up at the ceiling, blinking back tears as heat floods my body and my pussy throbs with need.

"I can feel how hard your nipples are. Still don't want to talk?" JJ whispers, his lips grazing my cheek while his free hand tugs on the strings of my bikini. A scoff leaves my lips, giving him my answer and I feel him smile.

"I guess we'll play then." JJ suddenly steps back, removing all forms of himself from my skin and I suck in a breath as my pulse echoes in my ears. I watch as he shoves the table and chair closer than rummages through the duffle bag. His eyes light up when he holds up a pair of nipple clamps and I bear my teeth in warning.

"Let's start with these." JJ steps back in front of me but hesitates, almost like he's waiting for me to spill but I refuse. I glare at him as he tucks both of the bikini triangles to the side to reveal my painfully hard nipples. It's from the stimulation.

"These would look so much better pierced." I look away as he secures the clamps to each of my nipples, a chain connecting them in the middle, then he tightens them until tears fill my eyes.

"These are going to be so sore tomorrow." JJ chuckles, returning to the duffle bag. My nipples are on fire and I have to take several breaths to calm myself while he searches for whatever it is he wants next. They almost hurt more than my wrists. But I don't care what he does to me now. He'll have no choice but to let me go eventually. People will come looking.

When his bright blue eyes find mine and his lips tip up into a mischievous smirk, I know he's found what he's looking for. Whatever it is, he's able to conceal in the palm of his hand as he steps back in front of me.

"Are you dripping yet?" JJ purrs, his free hand pulling the ties free on my bikini bottoms. They fall to the floor, leaving me bare for him.

"Fuck you." I spat, clamping my legs closed. He tugs on the chain between my nipples and I cry out, my legs immediately opening again.

"Let's start with this." He holds up a small pink vibrator with a string attached that is almost shaped like an egg. He presses it to my lips but I seal them shut until he tugs on the chain again and my lips part on a cry. JJ shoves the toy past my teeth, making me taste the silicone as he forces it in and out of my mouth.

"Suck on it. You want it wet." JJ demands, his eyes dark with desire. I do as he says, staring up at the ceiling as the droll starts to drip down my chin. When he yanks it from my mouth, followed by a string of saliva, he spins me around to face the wall before I can protest.

"What are--." My words trail off with a startled yelp as he yanks my hips back and spreads my cheeks.

"Wait--wait--!" I cry as he squats down behind me.

"Ready to talk?" JJ asks, looking up at me with hard eyes. I bite my lip, refusing to give in as I shake my head.

The toy is pressed to my hole and he slowly starts to push it inside me. Burning pain practically blinds me and I cry out, fearing the pain will never end when it finally does.

“Now?” He asks, sliding his hand between my thighs and chuckling by what he finds. I hate him. HATE. HIM. I'm shaking and sweating from the fullness, my clit throbbing in tune with my heart rate. I feel him move then the thing comes to life, vibrating inside me.

A choked moan leaves my lips as he forces me to turn and face him again. The vibrations are low enough to be irritating but not enough to get me close to an orgasm yet I can’t stop my legs from shaking. His expression is mocking, like he’s trying not to laugh as I whimper and squirm in front of him. I hate him even more.

“I bet you’ve never had anyone back there before, have you?” JJ taunts, smiling as he taps something on his phone and the vibrations increase. A startled noice slips past my lips and I quickly clamp them shut, glaring daggers back at him. He pockets his phone and grabs my hips, yanking me against his chest. Pain shoots through me from the pressure against my abused nipples but I refuse to make a sound.

“I’m going to fill all your holes if you don’t talk.” His voice lowering in warning as he speaks in my ear. I lift up on my toes, the buzzing driving me crazy with need. I wonder if I can cum without any vaginal penetration or clit stimulation. I’m teetering on the ledge as his warm hands start to slide up and down my waist in an almost soothing manner. The light touches raise the hairs on my arms and send sparks up my spine.

“I hate you.” I growl through clenched teeth, my pussy pulsing almost painfully as his hands start to drift lower but never giving me what I need.

“And I want to hate fuck you.” JJ murmurs back, the tip of his tongue suddenly sliding along my neck and making me whimper. I can’t focus. There’s too much stimulation. A finger brushes over my clit, making my hips buck and a loud moan escapes me.

“Please..” The word slips out of me before I can stop it. I try to lean into his touch but he withdraws, resorting to light touches that have me squeezing my eyes shut.

“Squeeze your legs together.” JJ demands, stepping back and unbuttoning his tented cargo shorts. I’m burning with anticipation as I watch him free his painfully hard cock and stroke himself a few times. I’m too busy watching him that I fail to listen so he steps forward and yanks on the chain connecting my nipples, making me cry out and tears spill.

“Last chance to talk. I get wanting to be strong for your brother but he’d sell you out in a heartbeat. You have to know that.” JJ growls, the heat of his cock burning against my stomach. I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak anymore. I’m blinded by desire and know that I’d end up begging him to fuck me.

“How do you think this is going to go?” JJ reaches between us to guide his cock between my thighs and through my slick wetness. My eyes threaten to close as he moves in and out between my lips without slipping inside.

“What will he think when I send him a video of you begging me to fuck you? Will he cut his losses or try to find you?” I shake my head, whimpering as I roll my hips to meet his movements. I’ve never ached to be filled so badly in my life.

“You’re awfully wet for someone who hates me.” I try to turn my head away when suddenly the vibrations in my ass increase and I sob loudly, his hands tightening on my hips.

“I’d only have to put the tip in and you’d make a fucking mess all over both of us.” His pace increases as he thrusts his cock between my pussy lips.

“I can’t..” I’m shaking violently as I peer up into his bright blue eyes. Everything hurt and was buzzing with need.

“Tell me where your brother is and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll make you cum so hard you pass out.” I whimper when he leans in to kiss along my neck, the heat of his body burning me alive. I can’t think while his cock is being thrust between my thighs.

“I don’t need you to make me cum.” I bite out, glaring at him as I move my hips in time with his thrusts. JJ gives me a wicked grin before halting my movements with a firm grip on my hips. I growl in frustration as he steps back, dick swinging before he turns to rummage through the duffle back again. When he pulls out a wand vibrator the size of my forearm I nearly start sobbing.

“Wait.. JJ..”

“Start talking.” JJ growls, turning the wand on high and running it down my stomach towards my mound.

“I can’t tell you where he is because I don’t know where he is.” I cry, tearing filling my eyes as he stops less than an inch from my clit. I’m shaking uncontrollably. I can’t catch my breath. I need to cum so badly I can’t see straight.

“I don’t believe you.” His eyes are murderous as he moves the wand to my clit and I suck in a breath to scream when four of his fingers force their way in my mouth. The pleasure is so intense that it quickly turns painful. Tears fall as I gag around his fingers and he makes me cum so hard that everything goes black for a few seconds.

I lose track of how many times I cum. I’m practically convulsing and tears are streaming down my face while I gag around his fingers. My pussy is sore beyond anything I’ve ever felt. Not that I ever had experience before this.

“You need to work on that gag reflex.” JJ clicks his tongue, smirking at all the droll sliding down my chin as he forces his fingers to the back of my throat.

“A slut like you should be a pro by now.” JJ sneers, removing his fingers from my mouth and putting them in place of the wand. I’m fighting to catch my breath, my jaw aching as he toys with my labia, massaging and rolling the flesh between his fingers.

“I’m not a slut.” I pant, just as one of his fingers penetrates. His eyes narrow for a moment as he pushes in just a little deeper before they widen in disbelief.

“No fucking way.” JJ whispers, shaking his head with a smirk without withdrawing his finger.

“I told you.” I snap with what little strength I have left. My body was aching to be filled. I could tell with how crazed I felt from just his finger half inside me. I was seconds away from fucking myself on his hand.

“This just got a lot more fun.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #obx2 #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks x reader #wattpad #tw dark content #dark!fic #blueicequeen19 #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #dark!jj maybank

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