#I used to share my thoughts about media all the time and I almost never do anymore
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Alright, I've been meaning to do this for a long time, but I'm finally starting a patreon.
I've spent the last ten years doing shitty retail and food service jobs and honestly it got pretty bad for me for a few years, and it was hard to do anything besides work and eat and sleep.
But I've been doing better this year! And I want to make things. My own things. I'm feeling inspired and like I actually love drawing for the first time in a long time. And I want to hold onto that and keep going. I want to do things I actually care about and believe in and even if this doesn't fully replace having a job I can spend more time doing art and less time making coffee for strangers.
There's not going to be a bunch of big fancy tiers to the patreon just yet. I mostly plan on using it for posing design and concept work for projects I want to work on. If that's something that sounds interesting to you, or if you've ever appreciated the various gay horses and lesbian animals I've drawn over the years, please consider throwing a few bucks a month my way.
Thanks for everything!
#I've also been trying to be less of a fucking hermit all the time#maybe say things and talk to people every now and then#cause it's something I really miss#I used to share my thoughts about media all the time and I almost never do anymore#which is wild cause thinking about media is one of the main things I do#anyway thanks to games like slarpg and roadwarden for making me go 'oh right I wanted to do this too'#and giving me the energy and inspiration to start un-depressing myself#I want to stop being scared of not finishing things and just start them#thank you to everyone who has ever shared and commented on my stuff in the past you have no idea how much it keeps me going#I read every single tag on everything
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic. Some people who know me in real life still don’t. And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM. I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe? I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag. Even so, how could autism describe me? I was a good student. I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class. I can make eye contact…if I must. And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right? Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it. I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them: sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak. It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once.
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance. It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day. But it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities.
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person. This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs. No two people on the spectrum present in the same way. And that’s a good thing! No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic. I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway. I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day. More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing. My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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midnights * mv1
since your breakup, max hadn’t thought of you. until he stumbled home by himself in the middle of the night.
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: honestly just heartbreak all around
notes: i started writing this when i found out my ex-boyfriend was dating someone new, and now here i am 💀 and i fear i am on my phone once more; i will credit the gif in the morning when i get to school
(next)
the lock clicks as max turns his key, the sound echoing in the eerily empty hallway behind him. he turns the knob and was greeted by his empty apartment.
max hasn’t been home in almost 2 weeks. the races and his media commitments, topped by other projects just made it so rare to find the time to come home. but that’s not the only reason he’s avoiding the confinements of these four walls.
he flips the switch in the entryway, slipping his shoes off. immediately, he notices the vast difference in the way his apartment looks — how strangely lifeless it feels.
he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is and it takes him a second to realise.
you’d emptied his apartment of your belongings.
the breakup happened in the 2 weeks he was away from home. it actually took place a night before his race. he’d grown tired of it too, the neverending misunderstandings and the fights.
so he let you walk away; you hopped on a flight back home.
he hasn’t exactly had the time to think about you since then. you’d only texted him once: two days ago to tell him that victoria will be the one with the cats until he comes back. he’d only replied with a simple ‘okay, thank you’.
he didn’t really know what to say either. he stared at your text message for 5 minutes before daniel called him over to start filming a promotional shoot. that was all he could come up with.
max walks further into the apartment you’d once shared. his eyes are darting all over the place, taking mental notes of spots that look different from the way he had left it.
the framed picture of you with the cats is gone, your magazines on the coffee table, the bowl of your collection of scrunchies as a ‘conversation-starter’ centrepiece — it’s all gone.
his apartment didn’t even feel like home. all of the things that made it feel like home just isn’t in here anymore.
max turns his body, taking a glance at the entryway. even your house slippers aren’t where they usually are. it’s as if you were never even here.
he takes a walk further in, glancing at the sofa. it seems so lifeless now without the teddy bear you brought in, and the blanket that you insisted was only for the living room.
he admits he misses the teddy bear. though, he was opposed to the idea at first, claiming that it’s taking up precious space that you could both be maximising together. it proved a lot more useful when he found himself hugging it when he’s on the sofa watching a show with you.
the remotes for all the appliances are no longer scattered over the furniture mysteriously. they are all lined up neatly on the edge of the coffee table, grouped accordingly. you hated arranging the console remotes for the simple fact that you were too lazy to reach forward an inch to start playing.
and it finally hits him, that in the moment of pride, and simply protecting his peace at the moment, he has now lost you.
for good, it seems.
max drops himself on the couch. he’s still looking around, desperately wishing that this was some cruel dream he’s in. he will wake up with you by his side, your hair in his face with his arm draped lazily around your body. he will wake up and you are still his, and he is yours.
he can only sigh. audbily, at the predicament he has found himself in. at the time, it didn’t occur to him to fight for you; to ask you to stay. he didn’t have it in him to ask you to find reason within yourself to change your mind.
then he hears a soft meow, followed by sounds of pitter patter against the floor of the apartment. before he knew it, the couch dips ever so slightly and then there’s jimmy climbing onto his lap to greet him.
then he hears actual footsteps, slippers dragging against the floor. he turns his head slightly, his one hand patting the feline’s head, and meets victoria’s eyes.
“max?”
“victoria.”
a set of lights by the windows are turned on, granting him a look at his younger sister. she’s standing by the door of the guest bedroom with a jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders.
she has a frown on her face, and a look that screamed she didn’t know what to say to him.
and then his heart breaks. instead of walking through those apartment doors hand in hand with you, giggling from the high you’d get from the bar in his private jet, he is sitting her all by himself. met by his younger sister, who would be gone by morning to go back to her family.
max can only smile sadly at her. he shrugs. “we broke up.”
“i know,” she answers softly, nodding understandingly. she approaches him cautiously with her arms slightly held up. “i’m sorry.”
“me too.”
max scrambles from his position and gladly takes in the hug that she’s offered him. he suddenly feels so small, his heart aching in his chest and his throat closing up. he feels the tears in his eyes as he hugs his younger sister slightly tighter.
she rubs her back up and down, hugging him even tighter when she feels his chest stagger slightly. now he’s sniffling and hands are moving up to his face to wipe the tears falling from his eyes.
“give it time,” victoria whispers, swaying slightly in an attempt to comfort the driver. “i promise everything will fall back into place. slowly, but surely.”
max sighs deeply. “i don’t know why i didn’t stop her from walking away.”
she pulls away from the hug, then tugs his hands towards the couch when he chases her embrace. she leans back, pulling max in for a tighter — and slightly more comfortable — hug.
“i know it sucks now,” she rests her cheek on the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “but let things sort itself out. it will be okay.”
there, in his sister’s arms, he cried for the first time since your breakup. he had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to process the whole situation at all.
the way you had shot daggers at him through your eyes that night, how he snapped at you when he noticed and how the fight had erupted from something barely of significance.
it was just over a cup of coffee — how you had made it with 2 sugars instead of 3.
from there, the topics of contention had evolved into something bigger. in the haze of both of your anger, past arguments were brought up and new ones were created just in that night.
then both of you grew tired. you ended up next to him on the couch of his driver’s room in silence. and you said, “i can’t do this anymore, max.”
and he had said to you, “i’m tired.”
but what he should’ve said was: “i’m sure we can find a way through this.”
but that’s not what he said to you. he stayed silent when you brought it up: “i think we need to break up.”
frankly, he didn’t really know what to say. at first, he was dumbfounded at what you said. never did he think, that when you first start dating, that a breakup would ever present itself.
max told himself, about 4 months into the relationship that there’s absolutely no way he’d end up with anybody else except you.
now, it seems he’s going to have to go through all of this by himself. start the whole thing all over again, unless something changes.
#oh#i like it!#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke f1
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I want this every day (Charles Leclerc)
Charles has been frustrated with the team's strategies and the results he's been getting lately so you find a way to cheer him up
Note: english is not my first language. I was going to write it earlier on the week, but then I felt like I a jinxing it so I stopped... but after today, I think it's a good place to start...
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions Jules Bianchi
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Another race weekend where he was out qualified by his team-mate left Charles with the feeling that if it came to it, he was almost one hundred percent sure they would ask them to swap positions.
Points for the team would be important anyway and they came away with a good amount and the car showed to be competitive enough considering the RedBull dominance on the grid, but the frustration was still there.
With the team and with himself.
They told him they'd keep him - there wasn't a quesion put down about his contract -, Il Predestinato wasn't something he carried lightly but often times it was confusing. Without the support and appreciation from inside the team, it was proving difficult to achieve their goals.
His childhood dream was driving for Ferrari and Suzuka always carried a heavier weight for him. As he took off his helmet and was faced with the number 17 on the side, he apoligised. To Jules, who he wanted to make proud every day but even more on this particular track. To his fans, who deserved better than this. To you, who were there for him, arms open for a hug and a shoulder where he could cry and let his feelings out on, to hold him and remind him every single time that all of the nonsense commentators and the media still had the audacity to say about him despite his continous shows of intelligence, skill and talent, and to love him.
The way you loved him was something he had never felt before and had never thought he deserved.
The face you were giving everyone in the garage that dared look at you wasn't unfortunately a rare occurrence, hence the fact that so very few team members approached you, "Charles is just finishing his interviews, he should be here soon", Silvia said before excusing herself from the garage.
You walked to your boyfriend's driver room, knowing he would end up in there soon enough after greeting the mechanics and engineers.
He stepped inside the room less than fifteen minutes later, finding your embrace immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist, "it's not fair that this keeps happening", he mumbled.
"I know it isn't", you kissed his stubbly cheek while rubbing his back soothingly.
"I thought I could've done so much better, for the fans, for you, for Jules", he hiccuped, letting himself be vulnerable after bottling up everything he was feeling.
"You did us proud, Charles - he is always so proud of you", you cupped hisface in your hands as you hoped the words got through to him, "okay?".
The flight back home had Charles sleeping most of the time, the whole rush of the weekend catching up with his body as he slept with his head on your thighs, your fingers playing with his locks while you arranged your schedule for the week ahead.
"I was thinking we could spend some time together today", you said over the phone, hoping he hadn't booked anything since you made sure that Andrea and Joris had cleared his schedule so you could make this happen without a hitch.
"You don't have work?", Charles asked, "no, I arranged a few things and a meeting got cancelled", you explained.
"Good, I don't have anything to do either, I was just going to stay home, but being with you sounds much nicer, my place or your place?", he wondered.
"My place, please", you replied immediately, "I just want to change my clothes and I'm feeling like spending the afternoon in", you tried, hoping he would catch on and not mess up your surprise.
"Okay, amour! Do you need me to pick you up from work?", Charles asked and you heard a small smile on his face. You weren't sure why, but Charles really got a kick out of dropping you off and picking you up from work, so you felt bad for the answer you were giving him, "it's okay, you can meet me there, I'm already walking", you said as you drove out of the shop and headed home. It was an inoffensive lie but you kept telling yourself it was for a greater good.
"Okay, I'll meet you there in twenty minutes or so", he said, "Je t'aime, mon amour".
Riccardo seemed to have parked the car at the front of your building, making you get the bag out of your car trunk and join him and his family, "hey guys! Thank you for coming to this", you smiled, touching Chiara's foot softly and getting a giggle out of the little girl.
"No worries, this is such a nice idea and we're happy to help!", Marta said, letting you walk up to the door so you could get to your apartment.
"For the first time in my life, I'm the first one somewhere, and then they showed up too!", Joris said as the rest of the group you invited stood up from the hallway floor.
"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I had to pick these up and then the call with Charles had to be done at the precise time so he wouldn't get here before I did!", you explained, unlocking the door and letting them in.
"So we're fine to wait, but Charles can't wait for you?", Joris teased, making kissing noises as you shook your head, "privileges of being my boyfriend - it is what it is!", you chuckled.
Delegating the small tasks you left for the last minute, Charles' text saying he had just parked the car was enough to capture you attention, "quick quick, go hide in the living room - careful with the board game boxes! He's coming up!", you ushered your friends to the living room before your boyfriend knocked on your door.
"Hello, my love", you said, kissing his lips and pulling him inside the supposedly quiet apartment.
"Hey, gorgeous girl - I missed you", he squeezed you tight once you closed the door, "I was getting in my he - what's that?", Charles asked as a noise came from the living room.
Chiara squealed loudly enough for him to hear, so in part your surprise was not such a surprise, "you're not alone?", he mused.
Lacing your hand in his, you pulled him to the living room as everyone jumped out of their places to greet him!
"Surprise - ish!", you waved your hands as if you were announcing some great show, "I gathered all your favourite people - Lorenzo is coming with Charlotte in a bit, he just picked her up from work and your mother also had a cliente so she'll arrive a little later. Arthur is in the bathroom?", you wondered as you saw him walk out and pat his brother's back, not missing the truly surprised look on his face as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, "you're the best, amour, thank you", he whispered.
You had food laid out in the coffee table and drinks in the kitchen where everybody could serve themselves so you could have your dining table available for the board and card games you were playing along with some building blocks for Chiara who was immediately stolen from her parents once your boyfriend saw her.
"Do we want to make a castle? Or maybe a rollercoaster?", Charles mused with the little girl sitting on his lap, still keeping an eye on his Monopoly game to make sure no one was missing any of the payments on his properties, "Good job, chérie!", he congratulated her, kissing her chubby cheek.
"Do you want me to get you guys anything? I'm already going to the kitchen", you wondered, "can you fill this up for us, please?", Marta asked as she handed you the orange juice jug, "yes, of course!", you grabbed it.
"This was a great idea, Y/N", Lorenzo said whole he poured himself a drink as you stepped into the kitchen, "he's been in his head a lot recently", he began.
"It's not much, really, it was quite easy to put everything together and you being here was very kind", you brushed it off.
"Y/N, gathering his favourite people to do something he loves apart from racing may seem simple but it's what he needs right now - don't underestimate yourself or the ability you have to bring him back to a good mental space", he rubbed your shoulder before going back to open the door, "it's our mother", he excused himself.
You set the jug on the table and took Chiara from your boyfriend's arms, volunteering to change her nappy in your bedroom.
Charles hugged his mother tight, "Hello, mon petit", she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "I'm not little anymore", Charles blushed, "you and your brothers will always be my little boys, I don't care how old or how tall you get", she smiled, greeting everyone else in the room.
His favourite people were all in the same place, Charles thought. Some were playing cards, some were just chatting and you just picked his friends' daughter to change her nappy like she was your own.
"Do you have room for one more? I'm usually pretty good at this!", Lorenzo said as he sat at the dining table, "you take my game - it's not too bad, just make sure Marta pays up what she owes me - two hotels in my blue cards", Charles raised his eyebrows, "I know you were counting on your daughter's cuteness to distract me, but I have excellent vision", he smirked.
Charles walked to your bedroom, seeing you close the diaper bag as Chiara kicked the air, layed on top of your comforter and giggling at the story you were telling her, "and then I had to tell the lady 'that won't do, because I have my boyfriend's family and our friends over for dinner and I can't have too little food! Even if I have left overs for weeks!' because that's what's right, right? She also had this very fluffy bread that was still warm from the oven so I asked her if she could add that because I knew you'd like it - bread is the best, isn't it, cutie?", you spoke.
You were it, he had known that for a long time.
You were the one he wanted to grow old with and go through every challenge life wanted to throw at you, because he knew you both could face them if you were there.
"And who is that spying on us, hm? It's Charles! Let's go and give Charles a big hug and many kisses!", you smiled, picking her up and approaching your boyfriend, cuddling into his chest as you kept the little girl on your arms, kissing his chest while Chiara palmed his face and giggled when Charles pretended to eat her fingers, "yummy fingers, nom, nom, nom".
"I need to get started on dinner - I'm doing that roast you really like", you offered, "I already prepped most of it, just need to cut up the veggies and then put in the oven, simple as that".
"C'mon, Chiara - I bet my mother is wondering where you are because she'll want a cuddle", Charles took her from your arms, "I'll be back for you", Charles slapped your butt playfully.
You were seasoning the food on the trays, making sure you weren't forgetting anything when your boyfriend walked up to join you, wrapping his arms around your waist, "thank you for this, I really needed it", he kissed under your ear, turning you around to face him and kissing your lips properly, "it's fine", you scoffed.
"No, I really needed it - it's easy to lose sight of these things and these moments", he began, "I was home and getting way too much into my own head and I wouldn't got to anyone unless they asked about it", he admitted, squeezing your body closer to his.
"I'm glad you liked it, it's truly nothing but I'm glad you're happy", you smiled, "I can't control what goes on your mind all the time but I'm going to make sure that whenever you're near me and say silly things about doubting yourself, I will always help you see the truth and work it out with you - no down talking about yourself when you're with me, understood?", you stated firmly almost like you were lecturing him.
"I know, amour", he giggled, kissing your forehead and then littering some more kisses on your face and making you break out in laughter loudly.
The dinner was great and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as they ate the meal and spoke about whatever came to mind, summer plans already in discussion.
Charles was helping you put away the plates when he decided he would voice the thoughts running through his head. Usually at this time of the day he was already knee deep into strategies and failed attempts, but this time was different.
"I want this every day", Charles said with a big smile on his face.
"Well, not all of us have your schedule, it would be lovely, but maybe making it a weekly thing? Monthly maybe with your schedule?", you tried, not wanting to kick his idea straight to the trash.
"I don't mean that - I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me", Charles clarified, "there's no point to keep two places when realistically, we spend most times at eachother's place - you're down to what? Sleeping two nights here per week?", he noted as you smiled.
"You want to move in together?", you checked and he nodded, "yes, I do - honestly, I've thinking we keep my place since you're renting here and that way you'd be closer to work, too", he suggested.
"Sounds good to me", you smiled, kissing his lips, sealing the deal.
"I don't want to be far away from you when we don't have to be, and this way you can save on rent, too!", he added and before you truly lectured him, he caught you ahead, "I know you won't let me pay for things on my own and we will find some arrangement for that, I was just saying you won't have to keep paying your landlord", he smiled.
"I mean it when I say I want to split expenses, okay?", you argued, "unless you start going with expensive caviar or any of that crazy expensive stuff - my salary can't take that", you joked.
"When have you ever seen that in my fridge?", he threw his head back as he laughed.
"I'm only joking, handsome - I can't wait to move in with you", you hugged him, "I love you, Charles, can't wait to be your new roomie".
#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fluff
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Are you still doing requests? Can I request Alastor x Wife reader who were married together alive an reunited in hell and while Alastor hates modern tech the reader grew on it and even started a life hack channel on voxtube of tricks from the 1920s and it becomes really popular and she gets sponsors and fan mail meanwhile Alastor needs Angel's help just to video chat her and one day she gets a 5 million subscriber mileage congratulations gift box (that all creators get bit hes still mad) from Vox himself
Old man and an Iphone
Requests are still open indeed.
I can definitely do my best! I’ve changed the dates around a little to better fit the technology advancements in the universe. This is set in the early 2000s
This is somewhat small, but i hope you like it.
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Years passed like turning pages since your husband had departed from you, in the cruelest ways that anyone could imagine. A fate that wasn’t even inevitable. That singular fragile piece of metal, shot from an unknown hunter, took him away from you.
You knew who he was, you knew what he was. Knowing that you’d end up in the same temple of horror one day that he has. His sins being your sins. That brought you some peace. Knowing you’d be reunited one day. Even if it was in the worst place imaginable. Hell. That day came sooner than you’d like to admit. Leaving behind your clueless grandchildren and your own hellish spawn.
The ground below you hit rather hard, not even knowing you were falling down the rabbit hole till the bottom came right to your face. You let off a grunt in response. Your body feeling light, all of a sudden. As if the age and wrinkles had just vanished, and you were young again. Legs feeling like they could run miles, and skin, well. Your new hellish form wasn’t much of an improvement from leather skin.
Knowing for years you’d end up here, it wasn’t too difficult to take in. Accepting your sins and your fate as a part of your journey. It wasn’t so bad. There was society, and structure down here. Immortality being the only true torture.
The other torture, you had no idea where your dearest Alastor had ended up. It had been almost 70 years since you’d seen him, god knows what he looks like now. Your reunion was sudden, after all, he was a well known overlord. Yet, it was still something out of a textbook romance novel.
Over the next decade or two, you two spent every second together. Refusing to be apart again. You sharing stories about your children, grandchildren. Melting Alastor's heart like he never thought you could. There was so much catching up to do. After time, you became infatuated with the media, creating your own channel. it was called "Hellish crafts", which started with a bunch of silly tips and tricks when it comes to house work. Alastor didn't understand, but it came with a hefty income.
After becoming tenants at the misguided daughters of hells hotel, you soon began helping with advertisements. Which grew the channel even more. From random life hacks, to advertisements, to smaller channels asking you for your help to grow theirs.
"Must you film me, dear?" his hand covers his face as the camera fizzes out of focus.
"Yes! Its for Charlie. Lighten up old man" You teased him, filming the hotel lobby. He smiled at your expression, resting a hand on the small of your back as you did your craft.
"Y/n! Y/n! Another letter for you!" Niffty ran over
Alastors hand dropped, snatching the letter from the little goblin.. Eyebrows furrowed. "This is the third letter in the passed three days, sweetheart"
"What can i say, my channel is a hit" One eye was closed as the other was pressed to the run down camera that Alastor insisted you used. Still walking slowly around the hotel, trying to get a good shot. Alastor stood in his place, reading the letter. "Another delusional fan" He mumbled.
"Don't worry! i wont let the fame go to my head" You swung around with the camera, getting him in frame. The static of his aura interfered with the lens and gave your brow a small electric shock. Jolting you backwards.
"I've warned you about that" He chuckled, hand returning to your waist and pulling you closer. His other hand with the letter, raising, and a fit of flames emitted. Turning the letter into ash on the floor, which nifty didn't wait to clean up.
Life was like this for a while, constant letters. Some weird, some genuine. But you never got to read most of them, as Alastor made it his duty to send them to another realm before you could. was he jealous? maybe, he'd never care to admit it though. That was until a rather glamorous piece of paper fell through the letter box on this particular day. Stamped with Vox's logo. You got to this letter first.
"What the fuck?" Your almost angry tone alerted Alastor, whose body materialized next to yours in seconds. "What's the matter, my dear?" his eyes briefly scanned over the letter before snatching it from you.
"What is a 5 million subscriber?"
"Its the amount of people who support my channel, i honestly didn't even know it was that big." you stared up at him, waiting for some sort of outburst on his face.
"That's... " he thought for a second "Wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, spinning you around. When you first started the channel, with his knowledge, it was more of a way to pass the time. So, for it to be as big as it is now was quite the accomplishment. What kind of husband would he be not to support his perfect wife, he thought. Whether she was practically paying vox or not. His quarrels weren't hers.
"I believe you have some type of reward, y/n" He spoke again, putting you down and giving the letter back. His sharp nail pointed at a fine print at the bottom. 'Visit the Vee headquarters to redeem your reward'.
You both looked at each other, brows raised and a concerned look in your eyes. "I'm sure it's not important. I don't need a reward"
He looked as if he was in deep thought. Contemplating everything for a second. "You should go"
"But vox is your-"
"Hush, little woman" His finger covered your lips "This is important to you darling. I trust you"
The smile on your face made his bigger, making you deserving of the little peck he placed on your lips before adjusting his posture. "On the condition that my shadow follows your every move"
"Done"
A few hours had passed since your departure, Charlie offering razzle and dazzle to escort you to the large mansion on the other side of the pentagram. It was quite the journey, considering the traffic. And it wasn't long before Alastor began to miss you, wondering if you were okay.
"Ahem" static gave Angel a brief episode of tinnitus before he swung his body on the lobby sofa, met with the lanky deer.
"Waddya want, pimp?" his attention didn't last long, his phone having far more interesting contents than the demon lurking behind him.
"I need a favor" his smile made the question seem a lot more sadistic than intended. His body swiftly moved around the sofa, standing in front of the spider now.
"If you want my soul, I got bad news for ya."
"Your soul?" He was almost confused for a second "No, i need help with this" he lifted his hand, angels phone disappearing and reappearing in the deer's grip.
"Wh- hey! Give that back" Angel leapt to his feet, reaching up and snatching it back. "Why do you want help with a phone? Aren't you like, from the dark ages?"
It took Alastor a moment to be able to admit to it. "I'd like... to call my wife"
"Awww, is someone clingy" angels teasing didn't last long before radio dials appeared in the demons eyes, radio interference filling the air as quickly as it had disappeared earlier. "Okay, okay" Angels hands flew up in surrender, Alastor returning to normal instantly. "Splended!"
It took a moment for Angel to flick through the thousands of contacts he had, before he finally reached you. Pressing the call button and handing the phone to Al. Who held it like an old grampa looking at a meme. "What do i do now?" he squinted his eyes at the device in his hand. "Just hold it" Angels voice became frustrated as he readjusted the phone in Als hand.
You had picked up the call a minute ago now, on your way back to the hotel. Being greeted to the two boys bickering. "Helloooo?" you sung out, attempting to get their attention.
"Oh. Hello my dear!" Alastor noticed to and bared his teeth in an awkward smile. "I just wanted to see how my love was doing, is all"
"How sweet. I will be back soon." You had many questions to ask when you were back with the comfort of your person.
"Do hurry"
#fanfiction#x reader#request#reqs open#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction
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say something pt 1.
summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my girlies out there - i got u
a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!
"I told you I can't go out." Salma hadn't stopped bothering me about some party with the men's team. I had so much school to catch up on.
"Come on don't be a party pooper. You study every night and train every day." I spun my chair to face my laptop. "Seriously Y/N, it's only one night." Rolling my eyes, I continued writing my paper.
I had been at university for the past year or so, while simultaneously playing football. For Barcelona. I know, pinch me moment. But I was so determined to graduate high school, and get a degree. I wasn't going to let anything stop me.
Even if it was my dream profession.
The coaches and staff at Barcelona were very understanding, however they weren't too happy when I had to leave training early for lectures.
But I guess I make up for it, I'm the league's top goal scorer, currently on 21 in 9 games. A feat slightly unbelievable to my lecturers and classmates - they think it's insane that someone 'famous' would even bother with university, but I love journalism. Something about writing is so me. Especially topics that I love.
"Don't be a bum Y/N." Truth is, I really wanted to go, but I had already agreed to help one of my classmates with some work.
"I'm supposed to be studying with Alex." Salma instantly spun me around. "The hot one?" I didn't respond.
Alex and I had our fair share of flirty kisses and almost intimate moments, with Salma being our first and only 'fan'. Seriously her words not mine.
"Well bring him then. You two should loosen up. Literally everyone will be bringing a plus one." Now that would actually be a good idea, but he seemed like he really needed my help, and lucky for me, he didn't want to bother me so it would all be through facetime. I could study in the comfort of my bed, in my pyjamas.
"Sorry Sal, you have fun but I'm staying back." She scoffed, this happened a lot, she'd invite me, I'd reject, and then say, "You look really hot though."
"Wait so what did you write about?" I would be lying if I said this wasn't awkward. We had hooked up a few times, and yet each time we spoke to each other it was just as awkward as the last. The term 'friends with benefits' was definitely not applicable to us.
"Umm, mine's just about some of my teammates. You know, sports injuries and that sort of stuff." He smiled when I spoke.
"It's so cool knowing you." Awkward silence soon followed. "Hey uh, I'd really like to take you out. To dinner maybe? You know, when you're not busy being a professional and all that." Well I can't really reject the guy who's made me orgasm multiple times.
"Yeah sure. I'm sure we could go out after class one day." Yeah I was not going to go out with him.
After a few hours of studying with Alex I got a call from Salma. "Hey Alex, I'm getting a call, I'll message you later." Hanging up our facetime, answered Salma's call.
"How's hot boy? Have you fucked yet." She was slurring her words. Definitely off her face drunk. "Hey is this Y/N?" I replied to the voice, one of a man's. "Listen we need you to come pick Salma up, she's drunk." The boy on the other side of the phone said it almost annoyed.
"Who is this?" Immediately he replied, "Pedri. Now can you hurry? I'm sending over the address." The notification popped up on my phone, she was at a club downtown.
"I can't." Pedri didn't speak. I knew him from our minimal media interactions, but other than that, he had a reputation as a dickhead fuck boy. "What do you mean you can't?" Because I was so preoccupied with school and work, I never had the time to get my license.
"I can't drive, I don't have a license." I could almost hear him roll his eyes.
"Are you serious? How do you expect her to get home?" He was clearly pissed off. "Maybe be a gentleman and drive her home?" He groaned, obviously unwilling to do so.
"Don't put her in a cab. Drive her home, here I'm sending you the address." As soon as he received my message through Sal's phone he hung up. What a dickhead.
After about fifteen minutes, I heard loud banging at my door. Rushing over, Salma practically fell in my arms. "Y/N you won't believe the night I had." She needed to sleep, we needed to be at training by 6 tomorrow for fitness testing. I have no idea why she'd pick tonight as the time to get wasted.
"Thank you Pedri, I'll see you tomorrow." As I went to shut the door, he stuck his foot in, pushing the door wide.
"So I leave a party with beautiful women to drop your lightweight friend off, and you don't even offer me a glass of water?" His tone was condescending, as he followed me through our apartment.
"Yeah well, sorry for ruining your night." As I helped Salma into her bed, he leaned on her doorframe. "You know usually when I take a girl home it doesn't end like this." He smiled, that kind of dickhead-fuckboy smile. I didn't respond, walking under his arm as I made my way to the front door. I opened my wallet and handed him €10. "For the petrol, now please leave." I pushed the money against his chest as he scoffed. "I don't need your money." He looked me up and down. "See you later Y/N."
Salma and I successfully made our way to the Barcelona grounds, a round of water and plenty of bread slowly sobered her up.
"So how was your date with sexy classmate." I smacked her lightly. "Awkward as fuck. You'd think that someone who's seen me naked plenty of times would know how to talk to me, but I guess not." We walked past the front desk. "Morning. And it wasn't a date, just a study session."
Making our way to the changerooms, I made eye contact with a certain somebody. That certain somebody came over to us. "What do you want?" He looked at me puzzled, in a dismissive way. "Oh I'm not here to talk to you." He diverted his gaze to Salma. "You were quite the partier last night." She smiled at him, I have no idea how.
"We gotta go. Bye Pedri." I pulled Salma away from him. "You're literally gay stop making eyes at him." She looked at me as we sped walked through the hallway. "Doesn't mean a girl can't look." I rolled my eyes. I can't take this girl seriously sometimes.
By the time we had made it out to the field, everyone could tell that Sal was hungover. She wasn't hitting anywhere near her top speed and was very slow at our reaction training games.
Jonatan pulled her aside, and soon enough, she was escorted inside by our assistant coach. "Bring it in girls." I stood next to Lucy as Jonatan began a speech.
"It has come to my attention that there was a party last night." The girls began looking around at each other. "And I understand that you are young and want to have fun, but when alcohol or even drugs are involved, it becomes a problem for the club." Lucy looked down at me.
"I need you to all be aware of what you're doing. You are professional footballers, and now is not the time to be partying let alone drinking." The girls started to whisper to each other.
"And I especially need you to look after the kids here. They're young and vulnerable. If you see them in a less than ideal situation, you need to help them out." Jonatan didn't raise his voice, one of the reasons why he has been my favourite coach. "Now get back out there."
Training was tense, and by the time we had arrived inside Salma was lying on one of the physio beds fast asleep. "Sal are you alright?" She groaned, covering her face. "Lucy said she'd drive you home, but I really need to get to class." I gave her a quick hug before I headed for the showers and prepared myself before class.
It's hard being a student-athlete, or an athlete-student depending on how you look at it. As I left the building I saw Gavi standing outside.
"Hey Pablo." He turned around, immediately hugging me. Gavi was my first friend here in Barca when I joined the academy, and although we haven't kept in contact as much, I still consider him one of my best friends.
"Looking good Y/N. You off to school?" I nodded, signalling to my laptop bag clutched in my hand. "You're seriously the hardest worker I know." After a short conversation a car pulled up to the kerb. A short honk alerted us.
"Get in Gavi. Y/N." Hey, at least he didn't dismiss me. "Can Y/N come, we just need to drop her off at the uni. It's down the road." Before I could reject Gavi's idea, Pedri spoke up. "Yeah no. Come Pablo." Gavi didn't get in the car.
"Seriously Pepi, let her come with us. It'll be a short trip." Soon enough, Pedri agreed, unlocking the back door for me.
Pedri didn't speak the entire ride, and even though it was short, I felt completely unwelcomed. By the time we had arrived on campus, Pedri drove right to the communications building. I thanked him, and stepped out of the car.
As I began to walk away from the car a familiar voice called out to me. "Y/N wait up!" Alex ran up to me, and immediately pulled me in for a hug. I could feel Pedri and Gavi's eyes on me, the car hadn't moved.
"Thanks for the help last night." We walked into the building together and found our seats.
After a boring three hour lecture, I quickly made my way down to the exit. "Y/N wait up." I spun around, facing Alex. "Is now an alright time to ask you to lunch?" I could help but blush. Now normally I would've politely declined, but I am so unbelievably hungry, so I agreed.
"As long as you're driving I'm up." He smiled and brought me to his car.
"I told you that class boy was your guy!" Sal yelled at me after being dropped home by Alex. "When you aren't preoccupied by the dick-"
"Yuck don't say that Sal!"
"It's true, see he's a good guy. Hot too."
I pushed a pillow to her face. She was really too much sometimes. We were sat on the couch, relaxing until it was time to sleep. She was telling me about this incredible girl from last night when I heard a knock on the door. I got up and answered it. To my surprise Pedri was standing there.
"Uh, um you left this in my car." He handed me over an unfamiliar plastic bag, but after a quick look inside, I could tell that it was my sports bra and socks from training.
"Oh yeah, um thanks." We stood there awkwardly in the frame of the door until Salma came up. "Left them in his car huh?"
Pedri immediately tried to speak but his mumbles were cut off by Salma. "Leaving your clothes in one guys car and then going out with a different guy the same day is truly boss energy." Pedri looked at me concerned.
"He and Gavi drove me to class ok, so let's get inside. Thank you Pedri, I really appre-" "Come in Pepi! Take a seat." Salma cut me off and ushered him in. Looking down at me, he made his way to my seat on the couch.
"You know what guys, I'm actually gonna head to bed." Salma pouted at me. "Come on, it's only for a few minutes." I shook my head and went into my room, grabbing my clothes so I could take a quick shower.
By the time I finished my shower, I could still hear Pedri and Salma talking. I wrapped a towel around myself and made my way to my room. That was of course, until I bumped into him.
"Maybe look where you're going next time." He said to me, a look of disgust plastered on his face. "Get the fuck out of my house." He laughed.
"Yeah cause this two room apartment is a house. You seriously need to get a life." I pushed past him, opening my door. "Oh and maybe you should try and be welcoming for once. God knows it'll do you a world of good." I slammed the door after hearing his comment. I have no idea why I even gave him the time of day.
He's such a piece of shit. I'm literally a university student who also happens to be a footballer - a women's one at that. I have no choice but to live in a shitty apartment with my teammate. I don't have the type of money he has.
pls let me know if you like this! i'll update as often as possible and pls give me some requests! i'll write about anyone (m+f)!! thank you!
part two!
#football#football fanfic#football imagine#enemies to lovers#pedri x you#pedri#pedri x reader#pedri enemies to lovers#fc barcelona#barca femeni#pablo gavi#pedri fic#pedri imagine#pedri gonzalez#football fic#soccer#la liga#footballer#slow burn#angst with a happy ending#jealousy
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tom fluff please
ᡣ𐭩 tom w his new hair do
a heavy sigh was heard from the front door, your boyfriend had just came home from a hair appointment the both of you were anticipating. as shoes shuffled, waiting to be taken off, you ran at the speed of light outside your bedroom and beelined it for the front of the house.
“hi baby! let me see your hair,” you almost tripped going down the stairs due to your hurries to see tom’s new hair.
“sorry schatzi not right now..” his voice and breath was thick. he sounded upset, as though he just didn’t want to talk to you or anyone at the moment.
you didn’t want to pressure him into showing you, but he seemed so excited before he left? what happened?
he places a kiss on your cheek and heads towards the bathroom, you stand there, confused. next thing you hear is the sound of the bathroom door being locked, and tom never locks the door.
what’s going on?
you knock on the door, “tom? what’s wrong?” silence. you didn’t hear anything from behind the door, until he finally spoke for after what seems like forever, “n-nothing baby.. just, give me a minute i’m taking a shit alright?” you let your hand rest on the doorknob for a moment.
at this point you just thought to leave your boyfriend alone, maybe with some time, he will show you. ready to leave the foyer, you take your first step to go back into the bedroom to wait for him.
that was until you heard the door creak open and a sniffle.
whipping to turn your head around, you’re faced with your boyfriend who’s head is down. he has a hat covering his head, unrevealing his new hairdo to you. you witness a couple of tears fall from his face to the floor, “baby! what’s wrong??”
“will you like it?” he says every word with a sniffle following after. his voice is shaky, how could tom be so upset after something so exciting? “like what?” “like my hair..”
you soften your gaze at him, you rub circles on his shoulder to comfort him knowing how much he loves physical touch. feeling him ease under your touch, he begins to remove the hat, slowly, you bite your lip in anticipation.
not about the new hair, but how sensitive your boyfriend is. you’d love it regardless to what he’s done to it.
“the media.. it’s only been a few hours since i’ve gotten it done. four fucking hours. but those four hours let people to just—fuck, say shit.. mean shit..” “like what baby?” “go back to your old hair, you’re not as attractive anymore, we don’t like this new hairstyle, blahblahblah—like i can’t fucking take it anymore schatzi..”
you bring tom into a warm embrace, his head immediately falls into your shoulders, nuzzling his head into the crevice between your neck and head. because he’s taller than you, he has to lean a bit down.
and despite the size different between the two of you, he feels so safe within your arms.
“oh tom… don’t listen to them, come, raise your head and let me see.” you let go of your boyfriend so he can show you the new hair he got.
they’re braids, he also went from his lightbrown matt locks to black hair. and god, did he look so fucking hot.
“what!! tomi you look so incredibly good with them..” “my so-called fans don’t think so,” you cup his face with both your hands, his cheeks are soft. you use your thumb to wipe away the tears still shedding.
“then they’re not your fans.. real fans would appreciate and love the new look, i know i do!” he looks at you, eyes all glossy and shiny. tom smiles slightly feeling more comfortable in the compliments you unleash at him.
“my beautiful, handsome boy, how could anyone ever hate this new look? i love it…” he turns his head a bit to kiss the inside of your palm, “thank you, thank you liebling. you don’t understand how much i really needed to hear this,” “anytime! it’s my duty, isn’t it?” “that it is.”
the two of you share a laugh, “now come, let’s get you into bed yea?” you take your hands into his and lead your new, dashing boyfriend upstairs.
“y/n baby, you haven’t stopped touching them ever since we got into bed,” the two of your bodies are intertwined with another, a movie playing in the background as this is how you guys wanted to unwind for tonight.
“not my fault! i’m toootally obsessed, i mean, no sane person wouldn’t be!” “i guess you’re right.” finally, he agrees. he’s been so insecure since this afternoon, and after some time, he’s finally getting used to the hair.
you twirl one of the braids in between your fingers, asking him a bunch of questions such as how long did it take, who did them, and how do we take care of them. to the opposite of your surprise, tom was able to answer all these questions.
you really liked hearing him talk, the reason for this was to also let your boyfriend ramble and forget about all the negativity from earlier.
he was so cute, the way his lips curled upwards into a smile as he mentioned how nice the ladies were when they were doing his hair. the way he licks his lips to wet them after his mouth gets dry from talking too much.
oh, and don’t forget the eye contact.
he will look at you the whole time, endearingly, he will probably tell you later but you can tell how much he really appreciates it that you were so understanding of him and his concerns.
“oh! and they gave me this oil to put in them, and this, uh—silk to put around my head to sleep in, it’s so cool!” he pauses, “you good schatzi?” “yeayea, nothing’s wrong.. i just really like hearing you talk, voice s’nice,” “really? thank you :).”
man, the way he smiled at you.. your boyfriend was extremely beautiful inside and out.
#tokio hotel#tokio hotel x y/n#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel fluff#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz x y/n#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz fluff#2000s#fyp
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Hi I think your request are open. 😭
Anyways I have a prompt where it’s like Jonnie meets a fan and like later on he kind stalks her media and accidentally likes something for an old emo phase and she dms him “??” And it just spirals from there into something cute?
An old phase,A new like
☆ Yesss!
☆ Love this,thank you anon x
☆ Sorry it’s so short
☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader
☆ Fluff
☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
Masterlist | Pinned post
“So today we are-“ I look down at my phone as a notification pushed past my do not disturb, Johnnie Guilbert like your photo.
I knew Johnnie,we had text back and forth for a while about doing a video idea even though we had never done it. I had met him at a convention and most likely acted like the biggest fan girl alive.
I clicked on the notification and saw that the like was a photo from 2020,almost 4 years ago.
You:
Liking photos from 2020,huh?
Johnnie:
Sorry didn’t mean to.
You:
Nooo it’s okay sorry lol
Johnnie:
Okay good lol,thought you were mad
You:
No,no lol
Johnnie:
So how are you?
2 weeks later,
“I’ll see you again next week? Maybe another date?” I ask with a schoolgirl smile on my face, “Yeah ofcourse,I’d love that.” He replied and I smiled,kissing his cheek.
We walked back to my apartment and watched a movie,cuddling up to each other and sharing some popcorn whilst we watched some shitty romcom. Neither of us cared about the movie,though neither of us would say it. We just enjoyed the comfort of each other.
Around nine o’clock Johnnie left,I was sad to see him go but I knew he had an apartment to sleep in so I couldn’t exactly keep him.
6 months later,
“Hey Johnnie!” I smile down the phone,we hadn’t hung out a lot this week but I didn’t mind,opting to sleep on call for the week instead.
“Hey love,you okay?” He asks me and I smile at the nickname, “Yeah,im okay,you?” I ask and I could almost hear his smile.
It was always nice to hear johnnies voice,it had become comforting over the past month or so,despite his energetic attitude. He always knew when it was time to settle down and he always knew what to say and how to say it. It made me envy those closest to him.
“So how was your day?”
1 year later,
“Happy 6 month anniversary!” He said as he hugged me,I smiled and kissed him as I grabbed some chocolates I had bought him.
He handed me some flowers and chocolate and I smiled, “Happy 6 months!” I smiled at him,my face beaming with excitement.
One phone call 6 months ago had led me to become infatuated with him,though I would be lying to say that I hadn’t had a small crush on him since I first text him.
We sat down on his sofa in his apartment and smiled as we put on the same shitty romcom that we always do,it had become our tradition and no one was complaining. As long as I got to snuggle up to the comfort of his chest I didn’t mind.
It had become apparent to both of us that we didn’t really care what we watched as long as we were with each other. I smiled as I snuggled into his chest,something that had become somewhat familiar with us. He snaked his hand around my waist and we sat their in comfortable silence as we admired each other.
2 years later,
“Happy one year!” I say as I wake up next to him in our apartment, “Happy one year.” He smiled at me,clearly as tired as he always was,I smiled at his goofy little smile and kissed him on the cheek.
“I got you something.” Johnnie whispers as he reaches into his draw,on the other side of the bed. He pulls out a ring box and I smile as he opens it, “I got us those Pandora promise rings you like.”He says with a smile. I sit up in bed and shimmy onto his lap pulling him into a deep hug. “Thank you Johnnie!” I almost yell as I kiss all over his face.
“Do you wanna be the moon or the sun?” I ask and he shakes his head “Whatever you want princess.” He chuckles and I immediately give him the moon ring. “Johnnie,we’re literally the sun and the moon.” I smile and he nods his head, “I love you so much,thank you!” I say happily and he smiles at me as he gives me a peck to the lips.
“I got you something too!” I say with a huge smile beaming across my face, I reach into my draw and pull out three wrapped presents. I feel like a parent watching their child open their presents with glee.
“Awh thank you baby!” He says pulling me back in for a hug and I smile,accepting the hug gratefully.
6 years later,
“I love you so much,I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else,Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”
“Yes!!!”
#spotify#smut#song#romance#cute#fluff#colby brock smut#sam and colby#sam and colby fluff#colby brock#jake and johnnie#johnnie guilbert fluff#johnnie guilbert smut#johnnie guilbert#johnnie guilbert x reader
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You couldn't understand why he was so insistent on this. Was it because he was jealous or was there some other reason driving him to push you to your limits? He seemed to enjoy every moment of it, even when you were exhausted and begging for a break. But you were helpless, at his mercy, and all you could do was obey as he continued to ravage you without mercy. You didn't know what had gotten into him. It was becoming clear that his desire was insatiable. Based on William running into inexperienced reader’s ex or another players comment sparked his breeding and stomach bulge kink 🍆#SlutsforPresidentNylander
Oh, I'm terribly sorry, bb! It took me much longer than expected to post this 🤍 But I believe I've finally got it sorted 🤞🏼
To be honest, I wasn't sure where this was heading, as I wasn't entirely sure I was ready for a breeding kink, but I decided to go with it and hopefully, it turned out well enough for you 🙃
Additionally, I've combined it with this request too 🤍
[I have no idea whether sports journalists would genuinely ask such questions, but for the sake of the story, let's assume they would 😉 After all, the media works in mysterious ways]
Warnings: 18+ smut; penetrative sex (p in v); cum inside; use of blindfold, anal toy, light bondage, light spanking; use of safe word; more penetrative sex (p in v); more cum inside - Trigger Warning: Reader expresses desire to slow down, but William does not acknowledge/hear it (🌶️);
Word count; 6.8K 🤦🏼♀️
「Inexperienced!reader x Willy」
The dress (in case you are interested)🥂
"du är min prinsessa" = you are my princess
・✶ ｡ﾟ
All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt VII I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️(🌶️)
Waking up in William’s arms was quickly becoming your favourite thing in the world.
Every day, you found solace with him, momentarily forgetting about the outside world until your alarm rudely interrupted the tranquillity for the second time.
Meanwhile, your snoozing boyfriend could easily roll over and continue sleeping while you had to face the day ahead at work.
And as you switched on the dim light of your bedside lamp, you couldn’t help but admire his well-defined physique. He was incredibly handsome, and the fact that he was your boyfriend made it all the better. Everything felt perfect, almost too perfect, which tended to spark a small sense of fear within you. Was your relationship too good to be true?
William seemed flawless in every aspect. He was attractive, admired by many friends, had a large, supportive family, excelled in his career, and, most of all, he had a laid-back attitude towards life, cherishing every moment without worrying excessively.
This was in stark contrast to your own nature.
You often found yourself worrying, perhaps more than necessary. Though you didn’t constantly dwell on it, there were moments throughout the day when you questioned what William saw in you. Was it solely because of the incredible sex you shared? Or perhaps because you were the only girl who hadn't thrown herself at him, which intrigued him?
Regardless, these thoughts persisted, despite William's daily affirmations of love.
But shaking your head, you prepared for the day's work, which thankfully would be brief, as you also needed to prepare to meet William later for the gala - an event that made you rather nervous since you'd never attended one before.
Fortunately, the other partners had been incredibly helpful. Amanda and Sanna had eagerly assisted in selecting a dress and making you feel comfortable for the event. Although the gala didn't require much public participation from the partners, you still wanted to feel confident and elegant as you mingled with the important figures of MLSE. You simply wanted William to feel proud to have you by his side.
And indeed, William was proud of you. Something he hadn’t quite felt about his exes. But how could he not be?
Your appearance was breath-taking as his date for the night. Your long, black, glittery dress accentuated your figure, complemented by heels that added to your elegance. Your jewelleries sparkled almost as brightly as your eyes, which were beautifully enhanced by your makeup.
It was undeniable that you took his breath away with your appearance, and he wasn't the only one who noticed. Nearly everyone at the event had something to say about how stunning you looked; girls admired your dress and makeup, and even a few managers greeted you with compliments.
He almost felt guilty for feeling like he was showing you off, akin to how he used to feel as a teenager with his new hockey sticks. Though didn't intend to objectify you, he just couldn't help but revel in having you by his side, with his arms around your waist.
"Wow y/n, you've really outdone yourself tonight," Auston remarked as he approached you and William before another round of Blackjack.
"Thanks, Auston," you replied with a smile. "Although I thought you might have made a bit more effort yourself," you teased.
"What do you mean? Don't I always look amazing?" Auston chuckled confidently.
"Well, of course, you always look absolutely dashing," you playfully remarked, adding a hint of sarcasm as you rolled your eyes. And Auston simply laughed at your banter.
You could practically sense William's smug expression from the corner of your eye as you conversed with the other forwarder, noticing how pleased he was with the compliments you received. After all, you were his date.
And William did wear a confident smirk as you interacted with his teammates, particularly when you spoke with players like Auston. Though it wasn't that William disliked his teammate; he just recognised Auston's penchant for charming girls, and his almost flirty remarks toward you only bolstered William's confidence further.
William even suspected that Auston might have harboured a slight crush on you from the beginning but never acted on it, and perhaps now he was slightly regretting it. However, William had no regrets. Instead, he cherished the chance to flirt with you, share intimate moments, and experience the best times with you. Not only sexually, but you had also become an incredible girlfriend, with whom he now shared his home. You were unlike any other girls he had dated before - at least, he had never felt for them the way he felt for you. With you, commitment felt natural, without any hesitation or reluctance to leave behind his bachelor lifestyle.
And as he stood there, admiring you engaging in lively conversations amidst the blue and white lights, drifting away from the rest of the company, he was suddenly brought back to reality.
"Hey Willy, want to join us for a game?" Mo asked.
William shook his head to refocus. "Oh, yeah, sure... Um, I just need my—"
In his confusion, he searched his pockets, but you intervened with a chuckle, handing him the glasses he was looking for.
"Here you go, baby," you said with a content smile, knowing that he had forgotten them, and you were there to save the day.
"Oh, thanks, älskling," he smiled, putting on the glasses to better see the cards in the dim lighting.
"No problem, that's what I'm here for," you chuckled, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. "You'd probably lose your pretty head if it wasn't attached to your neck," you continued the playful banter, and the guys joined in on the laughter.
"See that, Willy?" Mo chimed in. "That's wifey material, just saying."
And with laughter, the boys turned to sit at the casino table to play a round of blackjack.
Then for the rest of the evening, you simply enjoyed yourself with the other dates who had come tonight. Not all the significant others had chosen to join, so the few of you just had a wonderful time together.
However, while still keeping an eye on you throughout the night, William’s mind couldn’t help but wander into untouched waters, prompted by Mo’s comment earlier – ‘wifey material.’
It actually sounded pretty good in his head, even though it wasn’t really something he’d ever thought much about - probably because he hadn’t ever thought he’d have the chance to think in these directions. Although he’d seen several of his teammates form families, he himself had mostly just focused on his career and enjoyed the single life.
But now that he had you and was certain he never wanted to let you go, the notion of a more serious commitment slowly began to take root in his mind.
But again, William's thoughts were interrupted by the company around him.
**
However, the following day, William still couldn't shake the thought of what had been mentioned the previous night amidst the blue and white lights. Mo's comment about you being his future wife had inexplicably sparked the idea of starting a family in William's mind.
Although neither of you were anywhere near ready to start a family or even consider it seriously, William couldn't entirely dismiss the idea.
And after finishing dinner, William suddenly prompted a question that had been on his mind throughout the day.
"Babe, what kind of birth control are you using?"
His question caught you completely off guard.
"Uhm... I have an IUD, Willy... you know that," you replied softly, feeling a bit nervous.
"Oh, yeah, sure," he responded.
"I mean, I'm pretty sure we’ve talked about it before," you added, recalling your previous conversations about birth control.
"Yeah, of course, babe, sorry, I just forgot," he said casually, though his eyes remained fixed on the tv, not meeting yours.
And as you were still processing his sudden interest, William then continued with his questions about how it worked and for how long it lasted.
"Well, I got it about two years ago when I was with my ex-boyfriend, so it should last for another two or three years," you explained gently, but all you got in return was a noncommittal "hm" from William, followed by a simple "that's good."
Then a moment of silence hung between you as you looked intensely at him, noticing his mind working overtime.
"Willy... why are you asking about my birth control?"
"Huh? Oh, no reason," he replied nonchalantly, briefly glancing at you before turning his attention to the TV.
But unsatisfied with his response, you pressed on with a light chuckle. "Come on, babe, it’s so random! There must have been a reason."
And then William let out a quick chuckle and a sigh. "It was just... you know, after Mo made that comment about 'wifey material,' I just thought... that maybe, you thought about us one day being a family."
His words sounded almost nervous, although his tone remained steady, and a faint smirk graced his lips, indicating his contentment with the idea.
And you couldn't help but smile in response, as you hadn't expected William to already be entertaining thoughts about your future together. You simply felt a rush of happiness wash over you.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I do think that could be our future, Willy," you replied sweetly, gazing at him as he leaned back on the sofa and looked at you as well.
"I know it's not something we need to think about right now. I mean, we're not even close to that... but I just thought about it."
"And I'm really happy that you share these thoughts with me," you said as you leaned into him, your fingers gently tracing through his hair. "And I love that you can imagine a future with me..."
"But...?" William prompted with a chuckle.
"But nothing," you said almost seductively as you straddled him. "Just that… for now, maybe, I think I'm more interested in practicing for it."
"Oh, I agree," he responded eagerly.
Leaning down, you connected your lips with his, feeling his smile against your mouth as he returned the kiss. And as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, you deepened the kiss, both of you consumed by passion and lust. Then as the intensity grew, you instinctively began rocking your hips, grinding against him, both revelling in the freedom to explore each other without the worry of consequences.
His hands moved under the hem of your shirt, exploring your bare skin, before you replicated his move on him.
William's body felt incredible against yours. Especially when his strong hands gripped your bottom and flipped you onto the cushions with your back, and you felt the weight of him pressing down on you. Still locked in a passionate kiss, his hands effortlessly removed your shorts and knickers before discarding his own sweats and boxers.
It was as if your bodies were perfectly aligned when William positioned himself at your entrance. And despite the lack of foreplay, he carefully pushed his hardness into your warmth, eliciting harmonious moans from both of you that filled the living room.
"So tight for me, baby," he murmured softly into the crook of your neck. "You're taking me so well."
You felt a slight twinge of discomfort as he withdrew a little before thrusting back in, but soon your cunt was wet and ready, coating him and easing any discomfort. With your legs wrapped around his waist, William began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, making love to you right there on the sofa. Your breaths grew deep and heavy, your bodies heating up with each thrust, and soon you felt pleasure building within you.
It was unexpectedly romantic, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you. Your moans synchronised as you both slowly approached climax, feeling the sensation of William's length stimulating your walls.
"Willy," you attempted to speak, but only incoherent breaths and moans escaped your lips.
His thrusts grew harder and deeper, simultaneously to how his breath became incoherent. You felt his pounding almost as eager, yet it was nothing but pleasurable as you felt your pending orgasm soon approaching. Unintentionally clenching your muscles around him, you signalled your orgasm.
"Shit," William mumbled, feeling his climax nearing its peak as well. "Fu- baby, I'm gonna cum inside you."
"Yes, Willy, come with me..."
And almost in perfect synchronisation, you both cried out loudly, greatful for the thcik walls between you and the neighbours, as you reached your peaks, waves of ecstasy washing over you as you breathed heavily.
William trembled in your arms as he emptied himself inside you, his eyes shutting tightly, trying to regain control of his breath, as you felt a pulsating sensation around his cock, your body still processing the intensity of the climax.
No foreplay. No oral sex or fingering beforehand. Just pure, straightforward, missionary sex.
And it had felt surprisingly amazing, letting you feel nothing but bliss as you gradually returned to reality.
With William still buried inside you, he leaned down to kiss you softly and tenderly, your fingers threading through his princely locks.
"You're so amazing, älskling," William whispered softly, almost resting his weight on you.
"I could say the same about you," you chuckled lightly.
You stayed in that position for a while longer, William unintentionally ensuring that his fluids remained inside you as a part of him wondered about the possibility of you carrying his child one day.
But for now, you were simply enjoying incredible, protected sex that left you both completely exhausted, falling asleep almost immediately that night.
**
The following morning, you still felt a pleasant tingling sensation in your body from the previous day's passionate encounter. And a wide smile graced your lips as you reminisced about the pleasure that had left your head spinning.
Then while William was at morning skates, you prepared to meet up with your friend for a proper girl brunch. You hadn't seen Emily in what felt like forever since she lived in Montreal, but thanks to social media, you stayed in touch almost daily.
And nothing could beat a good chat over coffee, scrambled eggs, and pancakes. You caught her up on everything that had happened in the last six months of your life, and despite her being a diehard Montreal Canadiens fan, she was amazed by your newfound involvement with the Toronto Maple Leafs and your relationship with a player.
"Damn, babe, I'm honestly so jealous," she exclaimed as she sipped her mimosa.
"Oh, trust me, I'd be jealous of me too," you chuckled.
The conversation about your new lifestyle continued on for a little longer, and you naturally showed her the string of photos you'd taken, mostly from the latest gala event.
"Holy shit! Y/n/n, you seriously need to post this," she insisted as she saw one of the photos of you posing in your dress. "You look amazing!"
"Thanks, Em," you chuckled softly. "But I'm trying not to overwhelm everyone on Instagram with everything that's going on..."
"Why not? Honestly, if it were me, I'd be sharing every moment with the whole world," she emphasised.
"Well, I suppose I do have a pretty sweet life," you timidly admitted, flashing her a grateful smile, acknowledging how fortunate you were. Besides, she did have a point; you looked absolutely stunning in that dress.
And after a couple more mimosas and discussions about balancing your regular work and social life with the whirlwind of being a professional hockey player's girlfriend, you decided to post a few photos of yourself on Instagram.
Why hide your wonderful life, after all?
Then as you left the café, Emily suggested taking a stroll down the street, doing some light shopping along the way – and if you found something you liked, you'd try it on and pose for photos to capture memories of your day together.
Unbeknownst to you, the mimosas had given you a slight buzz as you began striking various poses in your new outfit, and as Emily's sweet compliments had boosted your confidence, you didn't hesitate to let your body show and your face exude your best model expression.
"Yeah, work it, babe, you look stunning," she would say almost seductively, encouraging you as you posed.
And still by the end of the afternoon, just before parting ways, laughter and giggles filled the air, evident in the pictures taken, and you couldn't help but feel elated as you said goodbye to your friend and headed back to the condo on the subway.
Meanwhile, across the city, William was wrapping up his day after ice practice and a workout in the weight room. And taking a short break after his last set, he scrolled through his social media, before he’d do some quick practice-media time.
When he first saw the photos you posted, William couldn't help but smile. "Damn, you looked good," he thought, swiping from side to side to admire every detail captured. Then he noticed your story, where you had shared a post from your day with Emily. And curious as always, William had to check out her profile to see who she was.
Although you had mentioned her before, he had never met her in person. And as he clicked onto her page, his eyes quickly found her latest post: a photo of you posing in a rather sensual pose, wearing an outfit that showed a little more skin than you’d usually were to brunch.
William swallowed hard as he frowned and studied the photo of you. You looked amazing, undeniably hot, if he had to be honest. But as he continued to look at the post, he started to notice the comments written below.
"Damn, looking good @y/i/n! Didn't know you had model potential 😍"
"Unf, somebody's flirting with the camera 😏"
"#sexylady !!"
"*Whistle sounds* 😗😗"
"Oh wow, maybe I could take you out sometime 😍😍"
As he read some of the comments, he couldn't help but feel a rush of resentment. This picture was completely public, and everyone on the internet could see this incredibly sexy picture of you.
It’s not that he was angry with you; but he was definitely angry with the guys online who were flirting with you. And he was not okay with it.
A little out of his usual character, William felt a certain level of protectiveness, almost possessiveness, as he didn't like that you were on display for the rest of the world to see. You were his girlfriend, and he didn't want men to start flirting with you like this.
"Hey Willy, they're ready for you now," Jennifer sweetly spoke, breaking him from his trail of thoughts.
And as he walked to meet the couple of journalists, William tried to let it go. He honestly did.
But then, after a few questions about his own training, expectations for tomorrow's match, and his performance, one of the reporters decided to rip open the tiny wound in his feelings.
"So, how do you feel about the partners of the team getting more and more attention on their social media?" the reporter asked.
William was caught off guard by the question. It wasn't anything he'd ever been asked before, yet he knew the married players on the team had been asked it a couple of times.
"Uhm, I don't know…"
"But do you think it's okay that they get this kind of attention?" another reporter asked.
"I... uh, no, I don't think so…"
"So would you want them to take down all their posts about their private life?"
"What? No, that's not what I'm-"
"Or should the management force them to have closed accounts so they don't show any tasteless behaviour online, like your own girlfriend?" Someone else interrupted.
"What did you just say?"
Emotions of confusion were suddenly replaced by a boiling sensation of anger instead.
"The post of her in a revealing outfit? How do you feel about that?" the reporter pressed.
And William just couldn't hold himself back any longer. The frustrations were boiling over, and all his media training was completely out of the window.
"You know what I think? I think you guys should stay the fuck out of it all and leave it to us. What happens between me, and my girlfriend is none of your damn business, and you should keep your mouth shut! You can ask me all about the sport I'm being paid to play but keep my girlfriend out of it."
The room fell completely silent after his outburst.
William felt his pulse skyrocket and his heartbeat quicken. The audacity these reporters had to ask him these questions, he thought, as he determinedly walked away from the scene.
Entering to the locker room, with fists clenched he couldn't get the words out of his head or let the anger get to him. Something that usually never happened.
And as he let the water run down his body, washing away most of the frustrations, he thought about the mix of emotions within him.
William was torn between the pride he felt when showing you off as his girlfriend and the jealousy he felt when reading the comments on your photo.
Sitting in his stall, he once again opened your Instagram and studied how beautiful you looked in yours and Emily’s pictures. You shone like a million diamonds, and a great part of him felt content about how the fans seemed to be jealous of him being your boyfriend. In fact, it sort of made him smile a little, but what swiftly had his smile disappear was when he saw a comment from someone that appeared to have a name similar to your ex-boyfriend.
"Shit, baby! You look so beautiful ❤️ I know I probably shouldn't be commenting here, but I just couldn't resist! Can't believe I ever let you go…"
William felt his heart stop for a brief moment. Who the fuck did he think he was, commenting on your post like this?
He almost threw his phone across the room, but a message from Calle stopped him.
C: “Hey man, what’s going?”
Willy: “What do you mean?”
*C has sent a link*
It was a video from an unofficial sports channel, discussing the headline: “William Nylander rages over girlfriend’s Instagram post!”
And he couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic chuckle. These fucking reporters, he thought – they surely work quick, and for what? A story based on a lie.
Yet, he still couldn’t contemplate how his emotions stirred within him.
Should he be proud of how everyone was jealous about his gorgeous girlfriend, or should he be angry because they were trying to flirt with you?
**
As he stepped into the condo, feeling the warmth of the home you'd built together over the past week, he leisurely walked into the lounge, where he found you snuggled up on the sofa with his dogs.
"Hey babe," you greeted with a smile, though it dimmed slightly when you turned, and his lack of joy was evident. "What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.
But William simply approached you, stood between the coffee table and the sofa, and without uttering a word, he fixed his gaze on you.
And your eyes were intensely locked, you sensed that something was amiss.
But again, without a word, William just leaned down and kissed you. It was passionate, almost urgent, yet gentle and intimate.
He held your face in his large hands, drawing you in with his energy, prompting you to slowly rise from your seat, moving with him as he guided you away from the sofa.
A weighty silence hung in the air as William effortlessly lifted you in his arms and then carried you to the bedroom, where he began to gently undress you.
His movements were deliberate, purposeful yet gentle, as if he had a mission. He made sure to caress every part of you as he removed your clothes, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your lace thong.
You found yourself almost frozen in place, a mixture of fear about his intentions and curiosity about what would happen next swirling in your mind. And with bated breaths, you followed his every move, the silence in the room heavy with anticipation.
Standing before the bed, you waited, expecting his command. Then he approached from behind, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours, both of you in just your underwear. His bare chest pressed against your back, and his large hand gently encircled your throat, pulling you back against him.
His forceful action elicited a gasp from you, but you couldn't help but lean into his touch, feeling the safety and warmth he provided. Closing your eyes, you felt the firmness of his grip, not restricting your airway but simply asserting his dominance, and his breath hot against your ear as he spoke:
“I fucking love you, du är min prinsessa, don’t ever forget that.” Though his words were sweet, his voice was rough and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
And when releasing his hold, you let out a small gasp.
"I’m yours," you said softly.
"And you trust me?"
"Yes," you simply replied.
Leaning in closer, he took a deep breath before continuing.
"If you want me to slow down, say yellow. If you want me to stop, say blue. Do you understand?"
You nodded gently.
"Then say it," he instructed.
"Yellow to slow down, and blue to stop," you repeated.
"Good girl," William murmured, a sense of satisfaction evident in his tone.
And as you stood there, waiting for him to proceed, you suddenly felt his warmth gone, before a silky fabric, gently covered your eyes. It was probably one of his ties, you thought,
"Bend over."
His command was delivered in a low, dark tone, and you could almost sense his smug satisfaction behind you as you, now blindfolded, let your hands find the bed for support.
"Are these new underwear from today?" he asked almost mockingly, to which you nodded and emitted a confirming hum. But that only had him tear them off your body, the fabric cutting into your skin, causing you to again gasp softly.
His hands then came to caress your cheeks, massaging them gently before slightly spreading them apart.
“So gorgeous.”
You weren’t really sure what to anticipate, as you had absolutely no idea what was going on inside William’s head, yet you were inexplicably curious to find out.
And while trying to control your breathing, you suddenly felt some sort of liquid sliding down between your cheeks, which William then used his thumb to very gently nudge around your tightest opening. Whether it was lubricant or saliva, you had no idea; all you knew was that it granted him access to carefully press his thumb inside you.
"Oh," you moaned, feeling a slight twinge of pain, yet it was quickly replaced by pleasure.
But William only massaged your opening for a brief moment before withdrawing his thumb. And instead, he replaced it with something cold and metallic - the small butt plug you’d used before. Very slowly, he pressed the plug against your opening, with care letting it past the tight muscles and inside you.
You released another breath, trying to relax your body, just like you'd practiced the last time you explored this particular area. And as the plug was set in place, you could feel how it stimulated your inside.
"Does it feel good, baby?" William then asked, his voice caring hints of satisfaction and care.
"Yes," you softly moaned, before feeling his fingers slowly trace down between your legs, encouraging you to spread them a little further as his digits began exploring your sensitive flesh.
And you couldn’t suppress the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips as his fingers circled your clit before delicately toying with your entrance, and slowly pressing two inside, curling and scissoring as he pumped within you.
“Shit, already so wet, baby,” he remarked with a grin.
"Oh yes, Willy," you let out with heavy breaths, feeling yourself clench around both his fingers as well as the metal plug in your ass. But just as you were starting to feel pleasure slowly building within your body, William withdrew from your warmth.
"Get on the bed, on your back," he commanded.
And without question, you obeyed, using your hands to guide yourself onto the mattress.
"Hands above your head," you heard William instruct, and once again, you complied. "And keep them there."
You then felt his body straddle yours as he leaned over and tied your wrists together with something you assumed was another piece of fabric – perhaps a scarf from his collection. Then with your wrists firmly secured, William left his position. You tried to listen for any sounds he made, but there were no clear indications of what was going on. Only footsteps and something, clinking maybe?
You felt your heartbeat quicken as you waited for what would happen next, and fortunately, you didn’t have to wait long. Sensing movement between your legs, you felt William kneeling before you, his hands slowly moving up your legs, pulling you a little closer. Your body ached for more intimate touch, craving more than just the stimulation from the butt plug.
“You’re so beautiful,” you heard William whisper, and just as you curved a little smile, you were surprised by something cold on your lips. William kissed you, holding an ice cube between his lips, and the heat from both of you causing it to slowly melt, a drop of water running down the side of your mouth and down your jaw.
Then, William began to move further down, ensuring the ice cube touched your skin at all times as he dragged it with his lips. Down your chin, your neck, then to your collarbone and between your breasts. He continued downward, just past your navel, and finally to the top of your core.
And you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as you felt the sting of cold on your skin, yet you also knew you had to lie still, keeping your hands in place if you wanted the next treat.
"Not moving your hands, huh? Good girl."
William's praise was like music to your ears, signalling you deserved what was to come next. Positioned between your legs, you barely had a moment to process before you felt his cold mouth on your heat.
"Oh, shit!" you moaned loudly as the mix of chill and warmth sent a pleasurable rush coursing through your body. And the sensation only intensified as William continued to pleasure you, mixing his saliva with your juices, sucking and flicking your clit and the sensitive flesh around your entrance. Needless to say, you were thoroughly enjoying it, your moans and deep breaths echoing in the room as his skilled mouth worked its magic, all the while the metal plug adding to the thrill.
"Fuck! Willy... I can't!" you cried out, finding it difficult to remain still, struggling to keep your hands in place with pleasure clouding your mind. And just as you moved your hands to grab onto his hair, William withdrew his mouth, and strained your wrists back down.
"Thought you were being a good girl, baby... so disappointed," he remarked, his tone tinged with both disappointment and content.
Your anticipation for climax remained unfulfilled, yet you couldn't deny the arousal sparked by William's husky voice and dominant demeanour. And with a swift motion, William took a strong hold of your thighs and turned you onto your elbows and knees, fully exposing your ass to him, including the little diamond plug.
A satisfied grin adorned William's face as he admired you, but he also knew you needed to be disciplined for not following his orders.
And as you tried to control your breaths, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden change in position, you let out a loud moan, almost a shriek, as you felt a strong slap across your ass cheek – another painful sting mixed with pleasure as you clenched around the butt plug.
And then another slap followed.
It felt undeniably good, yet also a bit overwhelming. But you didn’t want it to end, not just yet.
Though you couldn’t see anything, you sensed that William was flashing a smirk behind you, his breathing almost audible. But then, something else caught your attention – William’s tip pressing against your entrance. And with a firm grip on your waist, he eased himself into your depths, eliciting synchronised moans.
It felt so good as he filled you up like that, yet you also felt a level of overstimulation as both your holes were being pleasured.
And as he began to rock his hips, letting his cock massage your walls, you soon felt a new wave of orgasm building up. But William's thrusts showed no intention of allowing you to slowly build to climax; they were rough and forceful, devoid of any romance.
You could hear the sounds of his moans mixed with the loud slapping of skin behind you. And as the rhythm was relentless, driving deeper and deeper, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you reached a peak with this intensity.
“Willy… please,” you begged as you felt your muscles clenching once again, and this time he allowed you to reach the pinnacle, fucking you harder and pushing you over the edge. And you cried out as you surrendered to the intense orgasm.
But there was no time to catch your breath as William continued to fuck you through the euphoria. You could almost feel your cunt dripping with evidence of your climax, mixed with sweat from both of you.
And it was becoming too much. William had no mercy as he overstimulated your walls with every thrust.
“Yel-…” you tried to speak in a hushed voice. It wasn’t easy. “Yell…”
But William didn’t hear you; the noises of rough sex merely drowned out your whisper.
Yet just as you were about to try and form the word "blue," you suddenly felt William stop and pull out from your heat. And a sense of relief washed over you, yet you knew he hadn’t finished yet, so you couldn’t relax too much.
Without hesitation, he flipped you over onto your back once again, using one hand to pin your hands above your head, and re-entering you in missionary position.
It felt as though your body had completely surrendered to him, melding into his movements with each powerful thrust. You tried to scream between your moans that you were on the brink of another orgasm, but words failed you. And instead, you simply gave in to the overwhelming intensity, your mind clouded by pleasure as your boyfriend moved relentlessly inside you.
Helpless and at his mercy, all you could do was obey as he continued to ravage you. Though, you couldn't understand what had gotten into him; it was becoming increasingly evident that his desire was insatiable.
"Shit, baby... I'm gonna come..." you suddenly heard him breathe out above you, and with his other hand, William pushed aside the fabric covering your eyes, restoring your sight and meeting his gaze.
“I wanna see your eyes.”
Covered in sweat, he continued to rock his hips, a crooked smirk across his lips as he stared down at you, noticing your tears of pleasure.
And as he then felt himself nearing his own release, he used a hand to wrap around your throat again, exerting a slight pressure without being too forceful. Shutting his eyes tight and determined to reach his climax, he thrust a little harder.
"Oh, fuck!"
With a few final powerful pounds, William let out a deep grunt and released his seed inside you, emptying himself completely, as he filled you up. His body almost gave way as he reached his peak, his legs trembling beneath him, and his lungs fighting for air.
It was undoubtedly the most intense sex you had both ever experienced. The way William had fucked you hard and good, and you had reached orgasms too numerous to count amidst the heated session.
Then gently releasing his grip around your throat and wrists, he slowly pulled out and untied your hands.
William remained silent at first. He simply knelt back, gazing down at your exhausted form, regaining control of his breathing. And you too had to gradually return to reality, blinking a few times as you looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze while starting to feel sensation returning to your body.
Both of you were a mess, with sweat and cum soaking the mattress.
"Shit, are you alright, älskling?" William inquired, peering down at you with concern evident in his eyes as he noticed the redness between your legs and on your wrists.
But despite feeling like you had been torn apart, you also experienced a sense of pleasure. And to reassure him, you mustered up an exhausted smile, understanding how important it was for him to know that you had enjoyed it too.
"Yes, Will, I feel fantastic," you murmured gently.
"Really?" he sought confirmation.
You nodded, prompting a faint giggle. "Yes, although I do feel I need to remove the butt plug, my ass feels a tad sore…"
William chuckled in response, gently assisting you in removing the toy with deliberate movements. And naturally, he took good care of you in the shower, as both of you needed to rinse off, tenderly washing each other and expressing all the love and affection that hadn’t been present during sex.
Then returning to bed, William held you close, radiating nothing but sensitivity.
"Was I too rough with you?" he asked as you both lay on your sides, facing each other with William's arm around you.
"A bit, but I also really liked it," you assured him, offering a sweet smile.
"Good, that's good. I only want you to feel great, even when I'm taking control like that," he said, his smile lopsided.
But slowly your smile faded as you wondered about his peculiar behaviour this evening.
"Is something wrong, Willy?" you asked softly.
"No, everything's fine," he replied, but you weren't convinced.
"Come on, I know you like being dominant in bed, but this was different from anything else we've done…"
And finally, William let out a deep sigh and rolled onto his back, contemplating how to articulate his thoughts.
"I suppose I got a bit worked up," he began slowly. "Like I wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, I felt almost angry after seeing those comments on your Instagram post…"
"Oh…" you murmured, propping your head up with an arm. "So, that's what's been bothering you?" you asked softly.
"Well, yes, but not entirely," he said, giving you a soft smirk and shifting onto his side again to face you, leaning on his elbow. "Because then I thought about it, and even though I don’t like it when men flirt with you online - I mean, I could honestly punch some of them - I remembered how much I love you, how proud I am to have you as my girlfriend, and that I’m the one who has a future with you… so, to be honest, I don’t really care about what they think or write. It just makes me even happier knowing that they’re jealous of me being with you."
And as William shared his deep thoughts and concerns, you couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness from his words.
"Willy, I love you too, and… please don’t think too much about what’s on the internet. If I had to spend my time reading everything women write about you, I’d never get anything done," you said with a light chuckle, your eyes meeting his in a tender gaze.
"I know… and you're amazing for brushing it off," he said with gratitude.
"Well, it's not always easy… but what truly matters is how we feel about each other."
"Exactly – I guess, it was just mainly your ex's comment that really got to me."
You couldn’t help but laugh a little as William admitted that your ex had managed to hit a nerve.
"Oh, forget about him, babe… I love you far more than I could ever love him."
"Yeah, I know," William chuckled softly, gently biting his lower lip before continuing. "But honestly, I feel pretty good about it. Knowing that he still wants you, but that you’re mine now."
His expression showed a hint of amusement as he reassured himself that he had nothing to fear, and that your ex was the one who’d lost in this scenario. And you couldn’t help but smile as you observed his smug expression, a sense of shared enjoyment settling between you.
"I am yours, Willy – you’re the only one I want to be with, to start a family with, and to grow old and wrinkly alongside," you spoke softly as you caressed his cheek.
And suddenly, it felt as if all the negative emotions of jealousy and anger had dissipated, as you both understood the solid foundation of your relationship. The strength of the bond between you, and how there was no need to worry about the outside world and their attempts to drive you apart.
Yet, as the comfortable silence lingered, William felt the urge to break it.
"You know... I have a feeling Tony might have a little crush on you..."
He wasn't entirely sure why he brought it up, but a small part of him was curious to hear your thoughts. And despite being caught off guard by his words, you maintained a calm expression.
"Really?"
"Yeah... I mean, he hasn't said anything, but..." William trailed off wiht a soft chuckle.
"Hmm... Well, he's nothing compared to you, Willy,” you spoke confidently, looking deep into his ocean blue eyes as you flashed him a sweet smile.
"I know, älskling,” he chuckled darkly, flashing a satisfied grin once again. “I know.”
#18+#Inexperienced!reader x Willy#SlutsforPresidentNylander#wn88 imagine#william nylander imagine#nhl smut#william nylander smut#nhl hockey imagine#toronto maple leafs imagine
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Oscar the Matchmaker: Chapter Six
Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen
Summary: The media goes crazy over the trio
Warnings: some sexual innuendo
Notes: considering the next chapter to continuation of their steamy encounter at the end. What do y'all think? 🤔
Masterlist
The build-up to the next race was terrible. The media had been swarming her at every opportunity. Even taking liberties to follow her places.
Her PR team had been keeping things as controlled as they could, but the fans are a force to be reckond with.
They left for Hungary early. She had requested they do so. She wanted time to settle down before she had to run around through people. A request which both boys made happen.
Now, she lay wrapped between them in their arms. It's a peaceful place to be. If she never had to leave, then she'd gladly stay here forever.
"Do you think the fans will still like me?" She whispers into Oscar's chest.
"My answer is still the same. Yes, they will still like you."
"If they start saying shit then I'll personally see that it stops." Adds Max. His words vibrate against her back in a soothing way. "The teams know your story. They saw what happened. You have no obligation to share that information if you don't want to."
The fans seem to be divided. Some say she has the money to make it look like she's the victim. Others say it's obvious she's the victim. Some fans are even saying that their relationship is just a massive cover.
Thankfully, her grid friends had come to the rescue. They all posted about her; about them. All of them writing things so kind it made her cry.
~
Media day came around far too soon. The boys make sure to walk her all the way to AlphaTauri, as is routine.
This time, they are joined by Lando, then they pick up Charles and George, and at some point Carlos and Alex.
The group waves her off to the safety of her garage. Watching her meet up with Yuki at the door.
"If any of the vultures ask about it, I will be setting the media pen on fire." Max claims through gritted teeth.
She thought she would be in the safe with the Thursday driver press conference. She was wrong to assume anything. Apparently, drama makes them bring her back.
It gets a little better as she sees that the other two didn't escape it either. They make space in between them for her to sit down. Charles and Pierre are on the far end of the couch chatting before things get started.
All three of them lean in for a hushed conversation.
"Plans for answering unwanted questions?" She asks.
"Sarcasm. Unless you want to answer differently." States Max and Oscar shakes his head in agreement.
They make it through the first part without any odd questions. It's the open floor where things start to get tricky.
"Will Buxton, Skay Sports: question for Max, Oscar, and Y/N." She tries to suppress a groan. Of course it would be him. The one who loves to make Max out to be a villain and her to be a slut. "How does it feel to be out to the world? Could you give us any insights into your relationship and if there is any truth to the rumors?"
Cue an angry Max and stone cold Oscar. She almost wants to laugh at Will and his poor choices.
Max goes first without anyone having to ask. "I personally feel great. It wasn't how we wanted it to happen, but I'm glad that I can hold their hands in public now."
Oscar goes next. Probably to give her time to think. "So me and Y/N have been dating since F2, and Max joined us early this year."
A shock rolls through the crowd. There's one rumor taken care of at least. Now, she can choose to do the rest nicely or sarcastically. She chooses both.
"There are a few rumors going around right now. The one about us being fake is a lie. We've been together for a while now." She looks between her two counterparts for reassurance. They give her warm smiles and encourage her to move forward with whatever she wants to say.
There is definitely a shake in her voice this time as she continues. "The rumor about me being the aggressor is also a lie. I don't need to prove anything to anyone. I've been through enough already and am not keen on reliving it. Oscar and Max can attest to the fact that I will make myself sick trying to talk about it. I order to not cause a scene, I will no longer be speaking about the matter."
She comes out of the press conference and immediately falls onto the ground, clutching her stomach. She's grateful her PR manager is there waiting for her. Otherwise, she probably wouldn't be able to keep going.
Oscar and Max help her up, watch her drink some water, and then return to their own garages.
"Do you want to try and get media over with now? Or do you want to wait a bit?"
She can't help but admire the level headedness of the kind woman beside her as she will be losing her patience with the questions she's been trying so hard to push away.
~
Max wants to scream. Maybe even punch something. Or preferably, someone.
He storms his way through the media pen. Nobody even stops him as he does. His PR manager told him to him to go find Oscar as the Aussie has apparently been getting the brunt of the inappropriate questions since their female counterpart had been escorted away for a break.
The trio and their PR managers have a new group chat for this very reason. The drama of their coming out has made all six need to stay in communication.
So, when he got word, he was released to go help his partner escape the awkwardness of the situation. Because nobody is going to mess with Mad Max and make his partners uncomfortable.
He finds Oscar in the middle of answering a question. A microphone to his mouth and eyes flickering everywhere searching for an answer he doesn't have.
Without any hesitation, Max stands right next to his boyfriend and interjects himself into the conversation.
"Speak of the devil, here is Max right now!" says the interviewer enthusiastically. "I was just asking about the nature of your relationship since you are a world champion and dating not one, but two rookies."
Oh, the nerve. Max has half a mind to ask the interviewer who's dick he had to suck to get his job and see how he likes it. "Not sure what you're implying, Mate?" Max tilts his head in feigned confusion. He can just barely see the two PR managers almost giggling out of the corner of his eye. The Dutch has a way of making the media regrat they ever asked such things.
"Just wondering how things between the three of you work. You know- If you're helping them in their career at all."
He feels about ten seconds away from jamming the microphone into the reporter's skull. But he refrains since his PR manager is even letting him do this.
"I honestly don't think they need any help. If you're implying that they are using me, I'm using them, or this is anything other than our love and respect for one another, then I will kindly ask you to fuck off." Max grabs Oscar's hand and the Aussie tries to give a PR worthy smile. The two walk over to their managers and both are shaking their heads at him.
~
All three of them collapse in a heap on the bed. Media day was absolutely exhausting. The trio had been dragged through a PR nightmare on loop.
"If I never talk to a reporter again, it'll be too soon." Max grumbles. The other two hum I'm agreement.
It took a minute for the two males to make out the small whisper of 'I'm sorry.' The female had been guilty about everything that happened. She has started to constantly apologize for things out of her control.
"I think I know the perfect way to relax and pull your head away schat."
Oscar runs his fingers along her spine. His eyebrows quirk up at Max in curiosity.
~
A bath.
Max's plan is a bath.
She's grateful that the Dutch has a bath bigger than the other two. It's not massive in the way of a hot tub. Yet it's perfect for the three of them.
The water is warm on her skin. Her back rests against Oscar's chest. Max is facing them to make the space more comfortable, but she wishes he were right next to them so she could lean on him too.
Even after everything, they are still here. Something about that thought makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
"Have you heard from your family this weekend, Osc?" She asks. The Aussie had been summoned home by his mother and demanded he bring his two partners along with him.
"Pretty sure my family loves you two more than me." He laughs. "What about you, Maxy?"
Max lets out a heavy sigh and sinks further into the water. "Dad has been texting me occasionally, but I've been ignoring him. Mom and Victoria want to meet you both in person soon." A small smile tugs at Max's lips. The Dutch loves his sister and his niece and nephew. "And you Schatz?"
She grimaces at the thought. "A few texts here and there."
"About?"
"How I should come home and pray away my sins." She rolls her eyes. "They think you two should do the same. That all of us need to stop whoring around."
Oscar smirks into her neck. "The only thing I intend on worshipping is you."
She can feel the heat rise in her cheeks at the implications.
Max sits up again and leans closer to her. "Or maybe you want to be on your knees praying to a different alter."
And there is is. Every working brain cell turned into mush. She whines at the thought. Almost shocking herself at the noise.
It's going to be a long night.
#x reader#fanficion#formula one#f1 fic#formula 1#racing#f1 fanfic#angst#max verstappen#oscar jack piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri fanfic#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#super max#max verstappen f1#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#redbull racing#redbull#redbull f1#mclaren formula 1#mclaren racing#mclaren
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— boyfriend! chris sturniolo
pairings: chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: sfw & nsfw!! i put a divider for ya
notes: again, from experience. i love my bf! ❤️ not proof read
♥︎. loves cuddling. he’s a big ole softie with you. you playing with his hair & scratching his back at the same time is like his kryptonite.
♥︎. he’s kinda pda personified. the man truly doesn’t give a fuck about what other people see him do. he’s more modest if he’s around his brothers.. but strangers? he couldn’t give less of a fuck and will try to get you to make out with him in public.
♥︎. he used to think it was corny asf when people made playlists for their significant others but he’s made multiple for you! are they filled with rap & trap music?? yeah but it’s the thought that counts
♥︎. you love to show him off and he loves to show you off, y’all are private in the sense of none of your relationship details are public but everyone knows you’re together cause it’s impossible for the other not to be included in a post. he’s proud of bagging such a bad ass bitch.
♥︎. he tries to force you to travel with him when they go back and forth between boston and la, he hates being away from you for longer than a day. you’re one of his favorite people.
♥︎. trust is sooo important to this man. he doesn’t fw that sharing passwords & looking through each others phones shit. he’s got nothing to hide but it feels like an invasion of privacy, his phone is basically his second person, it’s with him 24/7. if you don’t trust him and if he doesn’t trust you then it won’t work. 🤷🏽♀️
♥︎. communication is also huge. y’all are both stubbornnnnn. it’s so hard for either of you to admit when you’re wrong but for the sake of your friendship and romance, you always talk it out. y’all could not talk for hours on end but you’ll always semi resolve it before it’s time to go to bed for the day. you both hate going to sleep upset with the other.
♥︎. always touching you. linked pinkies, holding hands, touching feet, holding arms, resting heads on the others shoulder, he’s cool with it all. he just likes the physical assurance that you’re right there.
♥︎. he loves being your passenger princess because it means he can control the aux, as we all know man loves his music.
♥︎. he is very possessive over you but not in an over controlling way, you wear whatever you want, he’ll be your biggest cheerleader but if another guy tries to flirt with you he’ll be escorting you out of that situation immediately. no entertaining it, ever. he don’t play abt you.
♥︎. he knows you’re hot so when people say it via social media it doesn’t bother him. it’s only when people intentionally disrespect him when he gets pissed tf off and almost beats a mfs head into cemant. (go white boy gooo!)
♥︎. talking to him is your favorite thing. he could truly go on and on for hours and you’d listen the entire time. he offers such a unique perspective when you’re discussing anything, and you can tell he genuinely cares about what he’s saying and what you’re saying. he’s very good with his words.
♥︎. you’re probably the only person he could sleep in the same bed with for multiple days in a row.
♥︎. he values your presence sooo much and aways vocalizes that. he never wants you to forget just how much you mean to him. he’s truly be lost without you and that scares him so bad.
HORNY BELOWWW, i’m not your parent but rwc
♥︎. public sex is his thing, he loves it. he doesn’t know why he loves it but he does. maybe its the possibility of getting caught, maybe its the fact that you’re always down to fuck him wherever you are, probably both!
♥︎. likes receiving head more than giving but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know his way around your body. he knows exactly what to do to earn specific reactions and he gets turned on over just how well he knows you.
♥︎. y’all know that one country song?? that goes “i know every curve like the back of my head” yeah.. thats chris. he’s got your body MEMORIZED. like engraved in his head, he may act like he’s tryna explore when he touches you all over but there’s no part of you he hasn’t seen. and anything he doesn’t remember? in his my eyes only thats fulll of your nudes 😛😛 he loves his lady!
♥︎. speaking of nudes, he’s a sucker for them. he’d actually do anything you asked him to if it meant you’d send him some. he’s such a boy but he can’t help it when it comes to you, he loves every inch of you.
♥︎. he loves when you wear mini skirts. your ass and thighs always look… phenomenal??? and he enjoys the easy access. y’all have had public bathroom sex more times than you’d like to admit! 😅
♥︎. doggy is his favorite position. he’s an ass guy, doesn’t matter the size, he just lovesssss ass. what gets him off even more though is fucking you doggy in front of a mirror. you watching yourself get fucked by him turns him on beyond belief.
♥︎. you weren’t necessarily a slutty girl but when you started dating him something like shifted with you sexually. you genuinely need that man in your pants 24/7!!!!! like why is he not in your bed RN??? sickening.
♥︎. he hates skinny jeans on everyone but you, the way they hug your legs, thighs, and most important to him, your ass is wayyy too sexy for him to hate them. he loves when you’re out in public and wear them because he gets to see your ass in basically full display 🤗
♥︎. he likes to be the more dominant one most times but the man must admit when you boss him around in and outside of the bedroom it’s the sexiest thing in the world. he finds your confidence sooo hot.
♥︎. you LOVE to overstim him. and he loves it when you do it too, selfishly because all the attention is on him and he’s a cocky guy.
♥︎. when he overstims you tho??? heaven. actual heaven. he’ll eat you out till you cry, safe word is the only thing that’ll make him stop if he’s realllyyy into it.
♥︎. shower sex is his favvvv too. he loves the intimacy. plus it makes clean up easier, he’s a lil slacky in the aftercare department so anything to remove an extra step for him
♥︎. y’all fucked on the roof of your house ONCE after you played him that one ariana grande song and he still recalls it as the best sex of his life. you’re pretty sure he’s a fanatic for public sex.
♥︎. he genuinely wants to have sex with you everydayyyy. you have no idea how bro has so much stamina to want it everyday but of course you’re always down! you are a literal whore for him. your brain just goes la la la la la la when you’re with him.
#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo imagine
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[Daddies in December] Kita Shinsuke
Daddy Shinsuke is so wholesome.
Warning: fluff & soft smut
.
Shinsuke has been staring at his new lockscreen photo. Though he loves all and any photo with Y/n, his lovely wife, this one was by far his favorite.
It was a shot of Shinsuke hugging his wife from behind, his lips pressed to her shoulder and his hands placed on her six-month pregnant belly.
When Y/n and Shinsuke found out they were expecting, they kept the news to themselves for now. It was Y/n’s idea to announce it with their annual Christmas photo.
When they received their photos from the photographer, Shinsuke was almost brought to tears. They were so breathtaking and he loved every one of them.
Now that the news of their pregnancy was announced, Y/n and Shinsuke could finally share their journey with their family and friends on social media.
With two months left of her pregnancy, Y/n wanted to have a babymoon for Christmas. Their last get-away with just the two of them.
.
“Wow,” Y/n exclaims in awe at the mountainous panorama, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, cool mountain air. “Just what I need…” She looks over her shoulder and calls for her husband. “Come look at this view.”
Shinsuke pauses on unpacking and walks over, he wraps his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “Glad you like it.”
Shinsuke took on the responsibility of choosing the babymoon destination, opting for a location that was sufficiently distance yet still within a reasonable proximity to the nearest hospital as a precaution.
He plants a gentle kiss on her temple, saying, “I can’t wait for the arrival of our baby, but at the same time, I realize I’ll miss these moments when it’s just the two of us.”
Sensing something wrong with his tone, Y/n turned around and cupped his face, staring deeply into his eyes. Shinsuke could never hide his emotions from Y/n, “what’s wrong?”
Shinsuke couldn’t bring himself to admit that his mind was burdened by the increasing anxiety about the approaching due date of the baby. It has finally hit him that things will change between him and Y/n.
It dawned on him that he was… jealous of his child.
Once the baby arrives, the attention will now be directed to the baby, and the time between them two will decrease and be limited.
He felt embarrassed at his pathetic thoughts.
Y/n’s hands squeezed his cheeks and she asked again softly, “what is wrong? Hmm?”
Shinsuke is soft for Y/n’s cooing. That’s what made him fall head over heels for her. She knew how to talk to him, how to soften his heart and turn his world upside down.
It was especially something else when she would coo lewd words into his ears when he was balls deep inside her.
“I…” he inhales sharply. “I have been feeling that when baby arrives, our time together will be limited.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckles, “I don’t know why I’ve been feeling uneasy… but I think all in all, I’m just not quite ready to share you yet.” He gently knocks his forehead with hers, “I sound selfish and stupid, huh?” He frowns when he doesn’t get a response from her, but her shoulders tremble. Shinsuke looks at her, trying to get a glimpse of her face but she has it covered by her hand. “What’s wrong?”
Her laughter erupted as she buried her face into his chest.
After allowing her to laugh it out, she finally looks up at him, “I thought I was the only one feeling that way!”
The corner of his lips curved, “you were feeling… the same way too?”
She nodded, hugging him. “Yes, I was having a reality check, that this is it… we’re having a baby, our baby, and our lives as just the two of us are going to change. For the best of course, but like it won’t be the same again, you know?” Y/n looked up at him and he nodded, cupping her face. “But we have nothing to worry about. I think it is good that we realize this so we remind ourselves to make time for just the two of us. Continue to go on dates with just the two of us… maybe ask my mom to babysit for a weekend so we can get a mini getaway…”
“I like that,” Shinsuke whispers, feeling a sense of relief. “I feel so much better.”
Y/n lifts herself on her tippytoes, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “Okay, now make love to me.”
.
“Wait, Shin…” Y/n’s sentence is cut off with a moan as his fingers dipped into her heat.
She sat in front of him, her legs spread wide, hooking over his as his fingers move in and out of her pussy. In front of their bed was a large mirror that was attached to the dresser, this allowed her to watch him finger her.
“Do you like watching yourself get fingered by me?” Shinsuke nipped her ear, thrusting his two fingers knuckles deep. “You keep tightening around me, does it turn you on?” He adds another finger, and used his thumb to rub her clit. “Answer me, hmm?”
Reaching up, Y/n cups his cheek, turning to kiss him. “Fuck, yes… I love your fingers…”
“Keep watching,” he urged, looking at their reflection. The moment he walked into the bedroom, he saw the position of the mirror and his mind was instantly filled with lewd fantasy.
Her eyes met his through the mirror reflection before getting distracted at the sight of his three fingers thrusting in her pussy. “E – enough, Shin… I want you…”
“How do you want me?”
“Let me ride you.”
He withdrew his fingers and watched her shift herself on top of him in a reverse cowgirl position. Shinsuke guided her hips down until she swallowed him whole. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror, savoring the joy of witnessing the expressions she wears every time she takes his cock.
Shinsuke sighed deep within his throat as Y/n began to rock her hips and gradually speed her movement until she was bouncing on his lap. He was a traditional man, always enjoying a good old missionary position but he will never complain when Y/n takes charge and leads them to their orgasm.
Y/n shifts forward, leveling herself forward on her hands and rocking her hips slowly. Since her pregnancy, she has gotten tired more easily.
Sensing that she is exhausted, Shinsuke chuckles and guides her off. He repositions himself behind her and shifts her onto her hands and knees. Reaching behind him, he collected the pillow and placed it beneath her before pressing a hand to her upper back. “I’ll take it from here.”
Y/n hummed tiredly, resting her face against the fluffy pillow.
Shinsuke guides his cock back into her sopping pussy, gripping her hips, he rolled his hips in deep thrusts.
She was close, and so was he.
“Shin…” Y/n gasped, “please… please…” she begged, “faster.”
He did the exact opposite, he went slower, rolling his hips. When he felt her walls begin to tighten, he snapped his hips faster until she came, trembling around his cock. He followed her shortly, he pulled back until only the tip remained inside her and watched his cock jerk each time he came.
His cock slips out and immediately his thick white cum flowed out. Gently and carefully, he shifts her to the side before lying down beside her. “Nap time?”
She nodded with flushed cheeks. “And then round two.”
Who was he to deny her?
.
.
.
E/n: I hope everyone had a good holiday <3
>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
#haikyuu smut#haikyu x reader#haikyuu kita shinsuke#haikyuu kita#kita fluff#kita smut#kita x y/n#kita x reader#kita shinsuke fluff#kita shinsuke smut#kita shinsuke drabble#kita drabble#haikyuu drabble#kita shinsuke x y/n
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marketing ploy - ln4 / ch. 5
Italy through Canada. A few people make observations, Olivia makes a huge realization, a few too drinks are shared, and Oscar starts to get a little bit more concerned when Ollie seems a bit... off. Until she snaps and tells him everything.
piastri!oc x lando norris, brothers bestfriend/fake dating
warnings/notes: alcohol/drinking, pretty intense kissing/makeout scene, still probably some incorrect f1 info but look, im trying. its a BIT summary-ish this chapter, but only because there's a few small bites from each race, everything will really be kicking off next chapter >:D! (I apologize in advance)
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MAY 20TH 2023 -- ITALY
Italy had passed in a blur of media obsession, cameras constantly on me and everything I did. Hell, I would breathe too hard and someone would post about it. Keeping everything quiet had been getting harder and harder now that Twitter was fully convinced Lando and I were dating, even if we hadn't announced it yet. We still had a while to go until our 'relationship' would be officially announced by us on fucking live television, something I still couldn't get over. And my heart ache was starting to get more prevalent as the whole situation was starting to confuse my heart and my brain, making me actually think Lando liked me.
But that kiss? Come on.
McLaren's social media team had Lando and Oscar out almost the whole weekend when they weren't racing, they were doing practically everything for the media team this weekend since we all knew Monaco was going to be crazy for us. Between it being one of the, in my opinion, busiest race weekends due to its hyper-publicity. And as we knew this, we (as in Me, Charles, Lando, Oscar, Daniel and Max) had plans for a party at a club in Monaco. As more drivers found out about the plan it ended up with us renting out some private rooms for all the teams and their drivers in this one club Charles and Arthur allegedly swore by. It was going to be one hell of a party.
So, since I had no Oscar or Lando to bother, I had somehow ended up in Max's hotel room with Charles and Daniel. We were happily splitting bottles of the most expensive wine we could order to his room and talking about anything and everything. We had talked about the season so far, everyones families back home (with another very interesting Max childhood story that had us all questioning his mental health for the thirtieth time this week) and we were currently discussing media.
I had mentioned not going on Twitter due to everything being crazy, and three heads turned to look at me. Max has Charles' head in his lap, the latter poking my thigh as he giggled, cheeks flushed from the drinks as he asks, "Speaking of, how was Seaspice?"
"I need to know!" Daniel shouts, turning so fast he nearly knocks himself over and I snort from where I'm curled up on the couch in one of Lando's hoodies. I had taken it forever ago and just never gave it back, not that Lando had asked for it or even seemed to mind.
"It was really nice." I murmur, cheeks warming up as I swirl my wine, "I don't think we stopped talking the whole time. He opened the door for me, got my chair, paid for dinner. This motherfucker bought me flowers? And left them at the hotel. And a Coach purse and chucks! And he was so fucking nice. I just... I had a really good time and we talked about basically everything. Which means he knows the most about me now, other than Oscar."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Max smiles and Charles nods enthusiastically, leaning up to take a sip of his wine before laying back down.
"Lando told me a bit about it." Daniel pops down on the couch next to me, poking Charles on the shoulder who whines and throws his arm dramatically over his eyes, making us all chuckle softly. His wine must've not been settling nicely, which I thought was odd for a man from Monaco of all places. Or he was just being dramatic.
"What'd Lando say?" Max hums, taking a sip of his wine as we all settle into a mess of tangled limbs.
"Just like, that he was totally in love with her the whole time and practically drooling over her." Daniel shrugs, "he's head over fuckin' heels."
My heart flutters at the sentiment, even if it know Lando's declarations of love are all fake for the media. Every little joke, every date, every hand hold or kiss or flirting joke, everything we were was for the media. At the end of the day Lando and I couldn't have each other. He was in this for the media just as much as I was, it was a contract we had signed and though Christian had said I could back out at any time, I was sure there would be consequences if I did.
Not that I wanted to go back on Lando, or this fake relationship, or anything. Not that I knew why. Maybe it was just because I loved the feeling of being loved.
OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW STORY! ↴
MAY 26TH -- MONACO
I was surprised when Max had brought me along with him and Charles for dinner at Charles' mothers house. Pascale was a sweetheart, doting over us and making sure we were all well fed and settled. I also had a chance to meet Charles' siblings, finally. Arthur and I realizing how much we had in common as we sat at the long dining table, easily cracking jokes about being the younger sibling in the same career as their older brother.
And the whole never being able to live up to their older siblings thing, but that was more undertones.
Maybe ten minutes into dinner, while I'm halfway through my fift glass of wine that night, Pascale asks, "So, Olivia, how is Lando? I've seen quite a bit about you two."
I laugh softly, setting down my fork as I explain softly, "He's a sweetheart. I've been with him for only a few months and it's really been bliss. This man won't let me buy anything on my own, won't let me open doors, gives me his jacket, texts me all the time, calls me all the time. He's doting over me twenty four hours of the day, it's really sweet. We're just not really saying anything on social media yet since it's still a pretty new relationship."
"And she says its not serious." Charles murmurs as he takes a sip from his wine, Max ends up whacking Charles on the back of the head as Pascale laughs into the back of her hand.
"Charles, I will kick you." I scowl, and immediately after Arthur jerks up and Charles shouts in complaint. I burst into giggles when I realize Arthur has done my work for me.
"Dude! Foutre le camp!" His sudden french makes me pause as I try to decipher what he said. Max is immediately laughing as Pascale reaches across the table to yank on her sons ear as she reprimands him and then reprimands Arthur, who is just out of arms distance thanks to me.
"Désolé, Maman." The Leclerc's echo and luckily the rest of dinner goes off without a round of complaints from their mother. But I can't stop thinking. I had been in this sort of spiral about liking Lando, and the drinks and telling myself I was just in love with what he was doing and the way it made me feel wasn't helping. And so, as I always do, I call my oldest sister.
MAY 26TH -- CALL BETWEEN OLIVIA AND OPHELIA↴
"Ophelia."
"Olivia?"
"I need advice."
"That's what I'm here for."
"You... okay, you can't tell Oscar any of this."
"Woah, this serious?"
"Yeah, uhm. So, the Lando stuff, it's... media shit. For McLaren and Red Bull. They want it to seem like Max and Lando don't like each other or something, I dunno. But we're fake dating for media."
"Oh."
"But I... I don't know something about it is bothering me. I... I can't shake it. I can't stop thinking about everything he's been doing, the gifts, the date--we kissed, like, really good and I... fuck. Am I stupid for thinking about this so much?"
"Do you like him, Ollie?"
"Well, yeah obviously. But I think I mostly like him because I like the way it feels to be loved. Like--"
"--Do you think of his actions or of him more?"
"Uhm..." "Him?"
"Ollie. Do you think you could be in love with him?"
"No! It's... its for media."
"You think about everything he does, and the kiss, and you like the way it feels to be loved."
"Yeah."
"He buys you flowers all the time, holds the doors for you, you constantly say he's the nicest guy you've ever met, you've already defended him in the siblings group chat and he's bought you a fucking Coach bag."
"Because of the media!"
"Buying you a Coach bag is not for the media! And Lando hates seafood, yet he took you to Seaspice because everyone knows you love seafood!"
...
"Olivia, look... [sigh], I've seen the photos posted and the way he looks at you, touches you, speaks with you, everything... he's in fucking love with you. Seriously, you cannot fake that. Unless he's an incredible actor, which--he's not. I've seen his interviews."
"Uh--"
"And you, missy. You're in the same boat! If you didn't like him the way you do, you wouldn't be calling me in a panic about this."
"What do you mean?"
"You love him. He loves you. Regardless of if you want it or not."
"Oh..."
"There it is."
"Oh. Fuck."
MAY 27TH -- MONACO
"That's Charles with p3, Lando with p2, and Max--again, with the p1 position!"
I was sitting cross legged, tapping my nails along the desk as I was working on saving all the data from Max's car from the race. Something was weird with his front suspension, but he managed to push through to the end. Lando almost got him in the last turn but at the cost of a spring and a shock, Max kept his position. Checo had done just as well, and Kylie next to me was uploading his data and happily chatting about how the race went with some of the other engineers before they all start getting up. I laugh softly, watching them as they start to cheer and clamber around.
"Olivia! Finish that up later, c'mon!" One of the engineers calls and I laugh, slipping off my chair as I shove my phone into my pocket and follow Kylie out of the garage. A crowd of engineers, analysts, and drivers moving in a group to celebrate the pole positions. I take my time, ending up with Oscar at some point as we cheer for all three racers. I can feel the cameras on me and it's starting to get a bit annoying. I just want to celebrate my friends, I had taken a back log role because I didn't want to deal with the fame of F2, F1, any motorsports as a whole. I was just as good as a racer as Oscar as a kid, but I knew what I would get into if I went with him. So I didn't.
And yet, somehow I still ended up here.
Max comes over to give me a hug, and I waste no time throwing my arms around him in congratulations. He laughs, squeezing me tight before stepping back as I whack his helmet three times, a little good luck thing we had started a while back.
"I'm killing you for breaking your shocks and like half the front suspension." I joke and he rolls his eyes, playfully whacking my arm as Oscar gives him a few slaps on the shoulder as he says congratulations.
"No, no, blame Lando." He says, and him saying the racers name has more cameras turn to us and Max's grimace lets me know I'm not doing well at hiding my annoyed face. He gives me a final hug as Lando appears to give Oscar and the rest of the McLaren team besides me hugs as Max turns to him.
"Let me pass you sometime!" Lando grins and the two share a quick hug to celebrate.
"Maybe next time, Norris!" Max grins, turning to the pull of Christian's voice, and I laugh as he's tugged into the arms of the engineers. Turning back to look at Oscar, I make eye contact with Lando, who (once I nod that it's fine) happily pulls me into his arms.
And I hate that that's when I hear the most camera shutters.
"Congratulations, Lando." I murmur into our tight hug. After a moment of quiet, he leans back and I smile at him, wholeheartedly, as I can see him smile as he squeezes my arms.
"Thanks, Ollie." We hold eye contact and I just smile before he squeezes my hands before coming up to pull of his helmet, "Hey, you're coming to the club tonight, right?"
"Yeah, of course." I say, holding a hand out to hold his helmet as he takes off his balaclava. Once he has it off, he keeps messing with his hair until I lift my own hand to his hair and run it through and fix it up. One of his hands falls to my waist, the other still holding his helmet as his eyes flutter shut.
"You need to get this trimmed." I murmur, and then he leans down to give me another hug as his breath is hot against my neck, his adams apple rumbling against my shoulder.
"Nah. If I get it cut then you can't run your hands through it anymore." He steps back when he's told he needs to go along to the podium and I hand him back his things, squeeze his hand three times, and then let him go off on his way.
"And you said it was never serious?" Oscar murmurs to me and I turn around and whack at him, telling him off in a sharp whisper as I sneer at him as the few McLaren employees around us laugh.
MAY 27TH-28TH -- JIMMY'S MONTE CARLO, MONACO
By the time Oscar and I make it to the back room of the club, the party is--and has been in full swing. He's pretty much immediately stolen from my side by Logan and Alex. So, I find the bar and get myself a vodka Red Bull to wash down my exhaustion and wake me up as I then slowly slink back to the room. I can see Charles and Max off to the side, Lewis dragging Daniel and Carlos along with him, and I send a half wave to Checo who raises his drink to me in a toast which I echo as I laugh, scanning the room and spotting the likes of Alonso, George, Lance, Pierre and Logan all off on their own tipsy adventures.
"There she is!" Two arms wrap around my waist and I squeal as Lando spins me around. Once he sets my feet down, he buries his face in the crook of my neck and he squeezes me in his arms. The conversation with Ophelia rings in my head--did I love him? And though I know I do, I try and swallow the feeling like the burn of the vodka in my throat.
I can't have Lando. No matter how much I want to have him.
"I told you I was coming, Norris." I laugh, turning in his grasp so I can give him a proper hug. He lets out a deep sigh against my chest before he leans back and grins, keeping his hands on my waist as I finish off my drink and set the cup on a nearby table.
"I know, but I'm glad you're here." He smiles, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath and grin when he pulls me a bit closer. I let him, even in the crowded club knowing everyone who knows of us will probably take photos. I let it happen because I know part of me wants the feeling of him loving me, even if its all a lie.
"C'mon, get another drink, lets celebrate." He murmurs under the music and I grin, taking him by the hand and going to the bar. I learn then its an open bar, and I happily order the most expensive shots I can, take three of them, and then order another heavily alcohol filled fruity drink. They put one of those cup covers on it, with a straw, and Lando brings me to the edge of the dance floor.
"Yo! Piastri!" someone shouts and I wave as Daniel drags over Max and Charles. Everyone seems hammered already, and in the moment I thank god for being a lightweight so I can catch up quickly. The shots already making my skin buzz.
"Dani, how are ya?" I ask, moving myself to the music a little. We talk, and even as we do I can't focus on anything other than Lando's hands on my waist as he holds me to his chest in the crowd. It's something so small, but just the way he's being protective of me makes my chest pound as I finish up my drink and set it on a nearby table.
"Come on, lets dance!" I say to the group, and while the others day they're fine, Lando lets me drag him onto the dance floor. I have no idea what song is playing, it's French, but the words could matter less. Lando's hands stay firm on my waist, when someone gets to close he moves us away, and when I turn and wrap my arms around his neck in a flirty, drunken haze, he leans down to pepper kisses to the corners of my mouth. My body is on fire, both form the warmth of the vodka and such in my chest, but from the feeling of the way his hands press lower on my waist and he drags me closer.
I don't know when we end up at the bar after dancing, but the next thing I remember is Lando sitting next to me on a stool as we take shots and eat chips given to us by the bartender who can definitely tell we're a little too drunk. I lean onto Lando's arm, gently tracing shapes as I listen to him talk about... something, I don't remember, his hand on my thigh warm and protective. He leans over to press a soft kiss to my lips, and I let him. His lips peck mine, then my cheeks, and then he presses in for a proper kiss. He slots there like he's meant to be, the hand on my thigh pulling me closer and one hand sliding down to grab the bottom of my chair and as he leans back from a kiss, he drags my chair closer.
My heart just about jumps to my throat as his hand lets go of the chair, ghosts the inside of my thigh and along my jugular as he drags his hand up to cup my chin, and he pulls me in by his thumb on my jaw for another round of deep kisses. One of my hands ends up tangling in his hair, and when Lando partially leans over me, my arm snakes across his shoulders with my nails dragging across the thing fabric of his shirt.
I would be embarrassed of the close contact if we weren't as drunk as we were and also in the back, dark corner of a bar.
When he presses in further, almost hungry, I lean back and press my hand to his chest as I try and catch my breath. He leans back finally, wiping lipstick off his lips with a tiny grin as he also tries to catch his breath with a sly smile.
"Woah there, casanova." I breathlessly tease and he whines. Literally whines. I am so fucked.
"C'mon, baby." He sighs and I press my hand to his mouth as he tries to snag another kiss and I let myself giggle, pulling him to my side with the arm tossed around his shoulder, peppering soft kisses to his hairline and the corners of his mouth.
"We should go back to the hotel." I whisper, and his eyes widen like dinner plates, nodding as he grabs my hands and pulls me up to my feet. We drunkenly giggle as we stumble outside the club and as I call a ride share on my phone, Lando keeps himself busy by playing with my hair and kissing along my shoulder and collarbones as he hums softly into my neck. When the car comes we seperate, for the sanity of the poor driver, but Lando keeps a firm hand on my thigh.
He always needs to be touching me, or holding me, I'm beginning to notice.
Once we're in the hotel, or moreso the elevator, Lando will not get off of me. It's almost comedic, soft kisses broken by laughs and my half-hearted complaints as I try and get us to his room, because I refuse to go back to my shared room with Oscar this shitfaced and in this predicament.
Once, finally, the hotel door is closed and locked behind us, I'm pushed back against Lando's wall as his hands find my waist. His breath fans over my face and my head is tilted up by his hand that covers my neck, his thumb pushing in to force my chin up so he can cover his lips with mine.
"You're everything." he whispers, breathless, one hand on my back pulling me closer. His fingers digging into my neck and back making my body arch and lean up into his touch.
"And so are you." I whisper back, his needy lips finding mine once more.
And then I wake up the next morning.
Groaning, I shield my face from the sun piercing my eyes with my arm as my phone rings somewhere beyond my grasp. I slowly sit up, blankets untangling from me as I slowly push them away and kick the blankets off my body. My head is pounding and I feel so sick, but I manage to find my phone somewhere on the floor. I get up, bending over to grab it as I adjust my dress to pull it back down and fix its collar. I must've fallen asleep wearing it and it got hiked up.
The call ends as I fix up my outfit, but before I can panic and try to call the number back, they do it for me. So I quickly press the answer button and press the phone to my ear as I rub at my tired face.
"Hello?" I grumble into the line, fighting off a yawn as I look around the hotel room. A suit jacket lays half open over a chair, my bag and shoes set neatly on a table nearby with my jewelry set on top of my purse with mens dress shoes kicked off in front of the desk.
"Olivia! Thank god," Oscar laughs, voice slightly crackly over the phone, "Where are you?"
"Uh--" I pause, turning around in my hungover haze to see Lando poke his head out of the bathroom. He must've woken up before me, and the towel wrapped around his still wet waist tells me he just got out of the shower.
I slowly realize I don't remember anything after we got in this room, and my stomach twists as I speak softly to Oscar on the phone, "...Lando's..."
Oscar's quiet for a few moments, I can hear someone behind him shouting, and then he hums, "Ah... okay, uh, just come back to the room before two?"
"Yeah, yeah I will be." Lando and I are still holding half awkward eye contact, and I click my tongue when Oscar's quite for a while, "Okay... uhm, bye?"
"Bye."
As soon as Oscar hangs up, Lando and I continue to stare at each other for a few moments, before I ask, "do you remember last night?"
"No. I was hoping you would." He laughed softly. When my silence meets him, he pauses mid shake of his wet hair against his towel, lifting his head to look at me properly, "do you?"
I shake my head and then move into the bathroom to stand besides a still not dressed Lando. With a tilt of his head, he looks me over as he speaks softly, "I have spare clothes if you wanna shower before you go back to your room?"
I nod to him, my mouth dry as the realization we might have done more than I wanted to think of crosses my mind. Lando hands me a spare towel, and I hear him rustling in his suitcase as I pull my hair back. There's very faint hickeys along my collarbones I can assume are from Lando, from what bits and pieces of the club I remember. I know they'll get darker, and my lipstick is smeared along my face and my jawline, in lip prints I know don't match mine, so they have to be his.
"Here." Lando says, making me jump as he snaps my focus back from staring at my hickeys.
"Sorry," He grimaces and I say its fine as he hands me a change of clothes and I softly thank him as he steps back and closes the bathroom door. I take off my dress, look at my body and find a few more marks a bit deeper down my chest and am taken over by a sort of full body cringe when I notice one or two marks along my thighs.
Did we fucking sleep together?
I turn the shower on, stepping in as soon as I can get my undergarments off of me (thankful I'm still wearing them), and let the water wash sweat off my skin as I use the hotel soaps to clean myself off and wash my hair. I catalog each part of my body, and luckily come to the conclusion we had not slept together... at least fully. I can never really know how far we went if neither of us remember it, but at least it seems we didn't make too big of a mistake.
When I dry off, I hear Lando say he's running down to the lobby to grab us waters and that he'll be back. In a bit of a panic, I throw on his clothes, grab my dress and shoes, and rush back to my room while he's still out. Oscar lets me in, stuttering as he follows my quick rush through the room. He sits on the edge of his bed, watching as I throw my stuff in my suitcase.
"So--"
"--Do not, ever, mention this to anyone."
"Woah, okay, okay!" Oscar holds his hands up, "I wont. But uhm... you..."
"Nothing happened." I stand, turning back to look at Oscar, "we were just drunk and he wanted me to get home safe."
"If something did or didn't isn't any of my business, you're an adult, and honestly I'd rather not know anything about my sisters sex life, no offense. But... uh, Ollie? Why do you seem so... worried? ...Nervous, is kinda a better word for it." Oscar places a hand on my back as he comes to stand next to me as I pause and stand up to look over at him.
Sighing, I can tell he's dancing around a question, his hands fidget and he ends up rubbing my back slightly as he looks over at me and gnaws his lip. There's a long pause before he hesitates to ask, "Did he do something?"
"No, God no, Oscar." I exclaim, running a hand through my still wet hair, "I just... woke up feeling sick and you know how I get with sickness."
"Ah, right." Oscar steps back, wringing his hands and swallowing, "Uhm. Sorry for being weird about it."
"You're my brother Ossie, I'm expecting you to be a bit protective." I sigh, "But it's nothing. I promise."
"If it--God forbid, is something, please... tell me."
"I will."
I can't.
01 JUNE - SPAIN
Ada, Astrid, Christian, Andrea and Zak corral me and Lando into a random hotel room in Spain. I had kinda been expecting this to happen, because there was no way they hadn't noticed we had immediately become incredibly awkward around each other.
So they lock us in a bedroom, like we're kids in timeout, and tell us to figure it out.
"If you were worried we slept together," I start with after maybe ten minutes of silence, swallowing hard as I cross my arms over my chest, "we didn't."
"Okay, thank god. I thought we did something and you were gonna hate me forever." He sighs, running a hand through his hair, "I didn't mean to push it with you. Drunk Lando kinda doesn't know when to slow down. I also wanted to make sure you got home safe, and when you said that we should go back I think drunk me got extremely excited."
He's so much like a puppy, talking with his head down almost like his tail was tucked, and I can't help but let out a slow sigh.
"I didn't exactly stop you either, I kinda enjoyed it, dare I say," I rubbed my hands together, before muttering, "I should've talked to you then and not run out. I...that was shitty of me, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, you had every right to be freaked out, I was freaked out too." He sighs, leaning back in his chair as I tap my toes and then start to giggle at just the absolute obscurity of our situation.
"What?" Lando says and I sigh, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling.
"We are so... what are we doing? We're literally fake dating for the media teams for the companies we work for, and...Monaco? We got so into the whole fake dating thing, we literally ended up like that." I giggle. Though Lando laughs along, I sense a sort of bitterness in his tone, and I note it spoils when I say 'we got so into the whole fake dating thing' and so I quiet down. Maybe he didn't want to talk about the fake dating thing at all.
"Look, lets just go back to what we've been doing. It doesn't have to be awkward, we made a mistake, we can't change it." Lando says and I nod, watching the way his adam's apple bobs as he speaks, then I look away when he notices me watching him.
"Yeah." I say, then look back at him, "Let's just go back to normal."
When I get back to the Red Bull garage, I can't help but keep thinking of Lando and everything that had happened. I had this huge stupid crush on this guy who probably, as far as I was aware, wanted nothing to do with me in that sense. We only ever kissed when we were tipsy or blackout drunk, so that didn't do much to solidify any feelings that he actually liked me like I liked him. So, I end up burying my head in my arms and sitting with one knee up to my chest and close my eyes and groan. I hadn't expected anyone to be around, until someone sits next to me and I peek over to see Max.
"What happened to you?"
"Nothin'." I grumble, hiding my face again.
"Something happened, because the last time you sat like this in Red Bull was when your ex tried to date Oaklynn." Max hums, rubbing a warm hand across my shoulders and I groan, whacking his arm half-heartedly.
"Don't remind me, that was so fucking stupid." I murmur into my sleeve, kicking at Max under the table, and he yelps in complaint.
"Mon cher!" A voice shouts from the other end of the garage, and why Charles is here is beyond me before he pauses behind Max and clicks his tongue, "why do you look so upset?"
"She won't say." Max turns around to look at Charles who hums, and then I see he sets down some coffees on a table nearby before coming to lean opposite of me on the table.
"Hey, Piastri." He whispers, "Piastri. Hey. Ollie, Olls, Oliver, Olivia, Liv, Livy, Liver--"
"I think she gets the point." Max laughs, swatting at Charles, before poking my arm, "Are you gonna tell me whats wrong?"
"I'm fine." I sit up, sighing heavily as I lean forward on the table and snap, "you guys are fucking dramatic."
"Woah!" Max puts his hands up with wide eyes and Charles gasps sharply as he stands up from the table, pointing at me.
"Hey! We are not!"
"Then leave me alone!" I stand up, moving away to the office I used in the Spa garage and slammed my door a bit too hard. I groan and toss myself down into my chair and bury my head in my hands. Trying to shake Lando out of my head is impossible when the bundle of flowers he'd bought me for the paddocks here is sitting in the trash can by my feet, and this time three heads poke into my office.
"Ay, what did you do now?"
"Does Ferrari not want their drivers at all?!" I shout, lifting my head to see Carlos poking his head out from the doorway with both Charles and Max besides him.
"No, now what happened, cariño?"
"Nothing! Literally nothing!" I groan, "I just--it's nothing."
"Ah! It's something!" Max points and Carlos steps into the office and crosses his arms as he looks around. It doesn't take him long to notice the flowers, which he points at as he turns back to Max and Charles.
"She threw out Lando's flowers. Trouble in paradise." He says.
"What did Lando do?!" "What did he do? I'll beat his--"
"Oh my god! Enough, all three of you! Go, shoo! Bye! Adios! Au revoir! Doei! Buh-bye! Ciao! Get the fuck out!" I wave them out, pushing them before I shut and lock my office door, pressing my back to it and groaning as I slide down to sit.
Thirty minutes later, when I'm halfway through a report, someone knocks at the door.
"Who is it?!" I shout, lifting my head up from my laptop.
"Oscar."
Seriously? They had to get Oscar involved?
"Come in." I say, and then he jiggles the lock twice as if to emphasize the fact that the door was still locked from after I kicked out the previous trio of drivers trying to figure out what was wrong.
"Hold on." I sigh, standing up and walking over to unlock the offices door to let Oscar into the room. As soon as he's walking in, I pace back to my desk as I ripped out my ponytail and threw it back up messily as the room felt hot even with two fans going on me. I knew it was because of my stress from work and Lando's bullshit, and also, just because of the abnormal high heat in Spain this season.
"You threw out his flowers." Oscar comments as he shuts and locks the door, making his way over to sit on the edge of my desk. I hum in response and he sighs, looking over me with a careful look before he lifts a hand to card through my hair as he mutters, "talk to me, Ollie."
"It's nothing." I sigh as my eyes flicker up to look at him, "Just work."
"Ollie, this isn't how you act after work stresses you out. And this weird attitude has been going on since Saudi, so don't try and act like it's nothing." Oscar crosses his arms as he slips off my desk to walk aimlessly through my small office, "You've been distracted, all giggly and happy when we're racing or doing anything with it, but the second we get far away from it you get all spacey. Especially since the last night in Monaco. It's like you've been stuck in your head since you started dating Lando."
"Ossie..."
"No! Stop--" He pinches his nose as he whips around to face me, pausing when he notices I jump, "Olivia. What is going on with you? What has been happening this whole season? What has Lando done?"
"He hasn't done anything!" I shout, "Stop, oh my god."
"Really? Because he hasn't been able to look me in the eye since Monaco! And I don't know if its just because I still see you as my baby sister, but I'm starting to get a little fuckin' worried. It's not a good sign when the guy your sister is dating won't make eye contact with you, especially if he's one of your closest friends."
There's a pause and I groan, saving my work before burying my head in my hands, "I can't tell you."
"Olivia. What did he do?"
"He didn't do anything other than what we've been told to fucking do, because--" I stand to match my brother, watching as he steps back from the desk to give me space, "Listen, you can't repeat this."
"Why?"
"I signed a contract, a partial NDA."
"Partial NDA?"
"Just listen," I whine and Oscar nods, before I spill everything to him. From Christian's office in Bahrain, all the way to a few hours before in the random hotel room. I tell him every feeling, every thought, every decision that had been made by Red Bull and McLaren's media teams. Everything I felt for Lando, the way my heart fluttered and buttflies filled my stomach, and the way I felt so stupid because I fell in love with a guy I couldn't have even if I wanted it so bad.
Oscar is quiet for a while after I finish, and I slowly sink down to my seat and bury my head in my hands once more as I snip, "Do you see why?"
"Zak and Andrea agreed to this?" Is his first question, "No, sorry, this was their idea?"
"Partially."
"What the fuck. Okay, so, they're having you and Lando date to prove that Lando and Max hate eachother?" His voice is sharper than I've ever heard. Oscar's always been quiet, respectful, and even if I've seen him behind closed doors, I've never seen him like this.
"Yep." Is all I can muster in sarcastic response.
Oscar turns, and laughs with this look of absolute incredulity, "What the fuck does Max have to do with you?"
"I don't even know!" I shout and start laughing, hiding my face in my hands, "I don't even know, Oscar. Like? Is it because I'm close with Max outside of racing?"
"I mean, you are like one of the only non-racers who hangs out with us outside of the races." Oscar shrugs, sitting next to me on my desk and carding through my hair as he lets me rest my forehead against his thigh, "but...I just can't believe you both agreed to this. I can't believe how quickly you both did."
"They didn't threaten me, but it felt kinda..."
"It felt forced because they're your bosses and you don't wanna lose your job."
"Yep."
Oscar sighs, then pokes my nose, "Look, as long as he's not hurting you, I don't care what you do. But this is kinda stupid. Are you really fake dating him?"
I nod.
"Like, you both don't have actual romantic feelings for eachother and are just doing this for the money?" I hesitate to nod and Oscar laughs, "I love you, Ollie, I do, but you're such a shit liar and Lando can't hide his emotions for shit. You both clearly like eachother."
"We have to look like we like eachother for media--"
"You are so in denial! I see it in your eyes!"
"Oh, but you have room to talk, Mr. Oscar 'Heart Eyes' Piastri?"
"Hey!"
16 JUNE, CANADA
OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW STORY! ↴
OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW POST ↴
oliviapiastri: a wonderful weekend for my boys <3 love u all sm
ferawri: HER BOYS??? HER BOYS?? HERS???
redbwings: lando has been posted above max everyone, rb fans everywhere lose </3
oscarpiastri: didnt even post a podium pic of my face
oliviapiastri: i still work for rb regardless of how much u drag me to mclaren
landonorris: and i still cannot believe u chugged both of those redbulls
oliviapiastri: im fuckin CRAZYYYY
oaklynnpiastri: she does that quite often
maxverstappen: the flowers...
charlesleclerc: the way i was just about to comment something
charlesleclerc: @ carlossainz come look
carlossainz: omg no more trouble in paradise guys :D!
oliviapiastri: i'm never letting u guys into my office again ( @ scuderiaferrari come get ur drivers from the rb paddock before i kill them pretty pls <3 )
scuderiaferrari: RUNNING!!!
LANDONORRIS POSTED A NEW POST↴
landonorris: thank u canada, see u soon GB. I'm coming for p1.
oliviapiastri: AND U DIDNT SEND ME THAT PICTURE U BITCH
landonorris: SORRY I TOOK IT LIKE TWO SECONDS BEFORE POSTING !!!!!
maxverstappen: never gonna happen
landonorris: im gonna crashgate you max
oscarpiastri: MEDIA TRAINING LANDO MEDIA TRAINING!!!
landonorris: I AM NOT GOING TO CRASHGATE THIS. LEGALLY THAT WAS A JOKE.
mclaren: someone come get our drivers pls.
roscoefanacc: so he posts olivia.... strange man.
opheliapiastri: @ oaklynnpiastri look.
oaklynnpiastri: ✍✍✍
oscarpiastri: pls help me u two
opheliapiastri: skill issue.
liked by oaklynnpiastri, landonorris
carlossainz: go lando go
-
Somehow I end up with Daniel, Carlos, Charles, Max, and Lando in Oscar and I's hotel room. I've got probably six hundred dollars in drinks alone spread throughout the room, and I'm half laying in Lando's lap as Oscar recounts some story from back home. And as I take a sip of my drink, Lando comments to the story of Oscar's ex-girlfriend,
"Better than what Ollie and I are doing."
I spit the drink out, luckily into the glass and turn around to whack him while he shouts complaints, "Hey! You told all your siblings, we can tell these guys!"
"We aren't supposed to tell anyone!" I complain, laying back on him lap and jabbing my nail into his thigh, causing him to yelp in complaint.
"So, what are you guys doing?" Carlos asked, taking a good sized gulp of his drink, and once I've sworn a room full of drunk men to secrecy or castration, Lando and I indulge them in the truth fo our relationship. It goes like some sort of sports play-by-play, like we're the stars and they're the announcers, calling out everything they can think of.
"Wait, wait--so what happens if they find out you're telling people?" Daniel asks, eyes still wide in realization and I shrug.
"We probably lose a cut of the money we would've made off this whole stunt." Lando hums, "but honestly, money or not, this whole experience has been a lot of fun. Olivia's good company."
"So all the heart eyes I see you two shoot at each other are fake? How the hell are you so convincing!" Charles exclaims and both Carlos and Max back him up. I can't offer a proper explanation, so I just shrug and laugh. The conversation carries us through the time everyones leaving, other than Lando who had decided finishing a bottle of Bacardi by himself was a good idea and was now laying face first on the floor. I wasn't too far behind him, but able to make myself look sober enough to bid our friends goodbye at the door.
Max catches my arm before he leaves, phone on call with Kelly loosely in his other hand as he speaks softly, "Please don't feel like you have to date Lando because of this whole thing. Christian gave you a way out if you need it."
"We'll be okay." I laugh softly, looking back at sleepy Lando, who Oscar's trying to coax onto the couch where he might be a bit more comfy.
"Well, if anything, know you two at least sell everything really well." He grins and then Carlos and Charles are giggling and dragging him away as I wave goodbye and shut and lock the door. Lando has ended up on my bed, on top of everything we had been packing, and I tell Oscar it's good enough and that we can move Lando later when he's more awake.
But Oscar and I just get drunker throughout the night, so I dont think he ever gets moved.
OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW STORY! ↴
THIS STORY HAS BEEN DELETED.
taglist:
@harrysdimple05 @charli123456789 @fangirl125reader
#f1#formula one#f1 fanfic#formula 1#lando norris#ln4 fic#lando norris x oc#ln4#lando norris fic#f1 smau#lando norris smau#lando norris fanfic#lando norris au
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T. Zegras - You And Me
✄————————————
Trevor Zegras x Reader
Requested✨
Word Count: 2.3k
Warning(s): Internet hate, emotional struggle, lack of communication.
Proofread while I was tired and delusional :)
—————————————
We were both young and distracted. Both on top of the world with our new occupations and the luck increasingly coming our way. Jack got drafted and I got my dream job in New York. We shared our excitement with one another simply because of our eventual close proximity.
I grew up going to school with the Hughes boys. I knew them well. I knew Luke the best, mostly because my little brother was friends with him. Which was really how I met Jack and Quinn in the first place. I gravitated toward Jack the most, due to his outgoing attitude and love for most things. We were always best friends. Strictly best friends.
It came as a shock to none when we got together. People were expecting it. Anticipating it. Jack and I dated, and at first we loved that, but eventually we saw through the cracks in our facades. We were playing “glorified friendship.” Jack didn’t love me like that, and I didn’t love him like that either. Sure, the fans and those on social media loved us, but they really only saw what we considered a best friendship. We may have kissed in a few photos and held hands, but Jack and I agreed that it just never felt right.
To say the least, we were both relieved and happy to have it over and done with when we broke up. We went back to fake gagging at each other and often teasing one another with comments about, “oh I can’t believe I ever kissed you,” and “why did we ever do that?”
Those comments though, had to be put on the back burner, when I met Trevor. Luke invited my brother and me out to the lake house one summer for a time. I almost turned down the offer, but my brother insisted, and I knew Jack would be there.
What I didn’t anticipate, was all of his friends being there too.
When Jack was too busy, I usually gravitated toward Trevor. Who always seemed to find me as well. He liked to ask what I was doing, drinking, eating, reading, watching.. god he just always wanted to know what I was up to. I thought it was nice.
I especially liked it when I would slip out on the back deck in the mornings to relax in the chill air, and Trevor would bee-bop out not long after, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt pouch and glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He was often the least talkative, and I’d even venture to say shy, in the mornings.
Trevor and I became close after that. I could tell it made Jack nervous, but in the end when I asked him about dating Trevor, the middle Hughes gave his blessing.
The next summer, Trevor and I spent most of our time together at the lake house. And away from it. I took him on midnight drives. Introduced him to the wonders of rolling the windows down and screaming. He took me to his favorite mini-golf places and ice cream shops. We shared our hopes and dreams, and eventually our feelings.
Then I moved back to New York.
Long distance was shit, but Trevor visited whenever he was close enough to do so, and I visited whenever my schedule permitted. Then the second year of our relationship came, and after much discussion with my boyfriend, I made the decision to move to Anaheim.
Which was how we were eventually outed as well. People got photos of Trevor and I moving my things in just down the block from his and Jamie’s place. Which might not have looked overly suspicious, if those photos weren’t accompanied by one of us kissing too.
At first, people were happy. At first meaning maybe two days. Then I started getting comments on my social media. I started seeing people making videos and posts about how I’d dated Jack previously. People compared photos of me kissing Jack, to the one they had of me kissing Trevor.
Each new piece of content made me feel sick. Then it made me angry. Angry at Trevor’s fans, angry at jealous girls, angry at myself. Because in what world did I think this would slide by without having any issues? I was dating my exes best friend.
“Can they just shut up about it?”
I knew it hurt Trevor too, because the crazy fan girls called me a slut, but the other boy obsessed fan girls called Trevor a horrible friend. Everybody was choosing sides online. It was either;
Team Jack; which included shitting on Trevor for breaking bro-code
Team Trevor; which meant tearing Jack down for supposedly, ‘hurting me’ or ‘treating me wrong.’
Then there was simply Team Puck Bunny; where everybody attacked and berated me for jumping from guy to guy.
I wouldn’t consider it a team, more like an angry mob.
I often responded with,
“I’m sick of it too, bud. You’re not the only one.”
We went for days being frustrated, weeks even. Things simmered and simmered, then they came to a boil when I got publicly insulted in a book store.
“This is it?” I could tell the young woman had a tone in her voice, but I’d worked retail before. I knew some days just required a little bit of a hard attitude. It wasn’t until she looked up at me for the second time, that she decided to pop off.
“Did we bring Trevor’s card today?”
I was shocked. My expression spoke volumes, not to mention the way my posture quickly changed.
“What does that mean exactly?” The people behind me grew impatient, and usually I wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this girl wasn’t going to get away with such words.
“Means yours probably ran out of money after you and Jack broke up. Had to hop along to the next hockey player.”
Hop along. What a fucking joke.
I pulled my credit card back into my purse. I’d dealt with the hate for so long that at some point, I began to wonder if I did use Trevor’s money too much.
Did I talk about him too much? Mention his name too much at work? Did I get friends just because of him? How often was I really buying things and not arguing more about him handing his own card over? Was I really using him? Was Jack really upset with me?
I tried my hardest to hold back the tears as I abandoned my books at the counter. I climbed into my car, put on a pair of sunglasses, and finally let it out as I drove back to my place. It felt like I was trapped. Trapped under a microscope I didn’t want to be under. So alone. Put on a pedestal only to be laughed at. I knew Trevor was experiencing the same thing to some degree, but it wasn’t the same. The hate on him had calmed. People got over it. When would they get over me? Why couldn’t they just understand that Jack and I wanted to be friends? That we’d never been in love.
The second I got into my home, I discarded every piece of technology I had on myself. My phone, my watch, I ignored the tv and my iPad- my laptop. I made a straight line for my back deck. And when I got outside, I slammed the sliding door as hard as I could. And I cried.
I was using Trevor. Maybe people were right. Maybe I needed a normal boyfriend, with a nine to five job. Somebody who I couldn’t use and take advantage of. Somebody in my league. I just needed to hop my way out of his life and forget about him. I lowered myself into one of my deck chairs, leaning back and raising a hand to wipe at the tears on my cheeks.
Trevor needed a girl who wouldn’t accept his card. Who wouldn’t let him pay for things or gift give so much. He needed a girl who’d take care of him as much as he took care of her. That couldn’t be me. It wasn’t me. Everybody said so.
I focused in when I heard the sound of a door opening, my thoughts forgotten in a flash as I grew concerned about somebody being in my home. I sat still, and waited patiently, until I heard the glass door open. I whipped around, only to relax at the sight of Trevor. He was supposed to make things better.. did I ever make things better for him?
“Hey! I saw you pull in.. I was waiting for you to get back from the book store.” His bashful smile was one I always loved. He hated admitting that he waited for me sometimes.
Trevor quickly presented me with a small box. My face fell.
“I got you something.”
“Trevor.” I sighed out, my hand pinched the bridge of my nose. “You can’t keep buying me things.”
I turned my gaze up to him, frustrated and exhausted.
“It’s just something small. Open it.” He quickly sat down next to me, and when he held the box out, I pushed it away.
“This is the shit they hate me for, Trevor!” I shouted, I quickly took note of the hurt look on his face. “They can’t stand me-“ my voice broke. “Because they think I use you. I don’t use you!” I couldn’t tell if I was trying to convince myself at this point, or the entirety of his fan base.
Tears quickly fell down my cheeks, my face red as I tried to hold in my sobs.
“Hey, hey-“ Trevor set the box aside and pulled me into his side. “I know you don’t use me.” He cooed, his hand rubbing my back while the other grasped my thigh.
“I do. You always pay for things- and.. and I used Jack to get to you.. and I hurt Jack- I hurt Jack because we’re together,” my hysterical bumbling was nonsense. Lies I began to believe because they’d been preached too much. Trevor let me go. He let me go and get it out for as long as I needed to, listening to any and every insecurity and concern. He listened well after the tears settled and I found my composure.
I eventually turned my body to face his own, and buried my head into his shoulder.
“I don’t wanna use you, Trevor,” I choked out. “I love you so much.” He was careful in pulling me into his lap.
“You don’t, baby.. I promise you don’t use me. I love buying you things. And Jack is always telling me about how much you talk about me when he calls. He always tells me it’s nonstop. He’s happy for us. And my team is happy. Hell.. Gibby loves you.”
“Because I’m with you.”
“No. Because you’re so sweet to everybody. Because you treat them all like family, and they love having you around when we have events.”
I gripped the back of Trevor’s t-shirt with one of my hands.
“Why do you love me?” I sniffled, and lifted my face to wipe my tears on my arm. I was certain I looked like shit, but Trevor still lifted my chin to look at me.
“Because there’s nothing to hate.” It sounded extremely cheesy and cliche, but in the moment it calmed me. Nothing worked better than hearing my boyfriend say such kind things.
“There’s a few things,” I argued softly, sniffing again. Trevor cupped my cheeks and wiped the excess tears away with his thumbs.
“Nothing worth hating. Maybe disliking, but not hating.” Trevor stood his ground with a teasing tone. “I couldn’t hate a single piece of you.”
“What about the money?” I lifted my hands to grip his wrists, prying his hands from my face. Trevor sighed.
“It was never about the money until they made it like that. Why’d you start liking me?”
I paused to think, my gaze flickering around the back yard.
“Because you were easy to talk to. And eccentric.” Trevor chuckled.
“Exactly. You never cared. We’ve never even had a discussion on how much I make. I just offer to buy, and you give me such a hassle about it before I win, and I pay.” Trevor paused and smirked. “Most of the time.” My expression softened.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I released his hands, and Trevor brushed my hair aside with one, while the other went back to wiping away my tears. “We can just ignore all the shit for a while. Try and do one of those social media breaks or something?”
“I think I can do that.” Who was I kidding? I knew I could do that. A social media cleanse with Trevor didn’t sound like such a bad thing. Time to forget about all the stress and focus solely on one another.
“There’s only two of us in this relationship. It’s not me, you, and the world. Yeah?” I never thought of it that way. I quickly nodded.
“When did you get so wise, Zig?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the bridge of my nose.
“Since I started dating a book worm. You learn a lot from books.”
Who would have thought you could learn from books?
“So..” I sighed out. “One big social media cleanse?”
“You betcha.”
“All apps?”
“All apps.”
“Just me and you.” That wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A newfound relief.
“Just you and me.” Trevor responded as he leaned in and kissed me. After a moment, we pulled away.
I nodded, leaned into him once again, and sighed. Just us. Only us.
“This might be a weird time to ask, but what did you get me?”
“Oh.. yeah it was nothin’ big. Just a Ring Pop in a box. I thought it would be funny.” I stared him down. I narrowed my eyes.
“Fuck you. I want the Ring Pop!”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
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Hellur, how are uu!!! This is my first time in tumblr. And there are only a few of george clarke or arthurtv fics. Very thankful for one of the people who creates them🙇♀️🙇♀️
May i request a reaction for Arthur or George where all of their fans love their gf, especially she's just a normal beautiful gal 😍😍😍 what if their girl has dimplessss
hi lovely. welcome to tumblr, welcome to my blog, welcome to a safe place to come vent and chat all things arthurtv and chaos crew as well as youtube! lots of love! thank you for popping by - don't be a stranger, at all.
i have so many thoughts for this :')))
G E O R G E
everyone loves her.
he takes his time to introduce her publicly because she's isn't a girl who is known - she's not a youtuber, she's not a tiktoker, she's not an influencer so he wants to slowly wean her into the chaos of his life and shield her from twitter's hate and the tiktok comments that will be written about her.
because, of course, there will always be some people who dislike her - its part and parcel of being with him and she knows that.
those that love her, she loves back. she always keeps an eye on her social media, always checks in with them, replies to their tweets and she does little q and a's on her instagram story about herself... with the occasional question about her and george or anything to do with their relationship (without going into much detail - she leaves that for his podcast).
and he definitely has her on for an episode, alongside andrew, like a couple's podcast episode where they just spill the beans on what it's like to date max and george. from the horse's mouth comments from someone who is dating someone so loved and well-known in their industry line of work.
"i'm pretty sure everyone loves yn more than they love me."
"what can i say? you're not the only one with a pretty face., georgey boy."
"it's the dimples, i'm telling you."
and she will always tease him because she knows how loved she is in amongst his followers. always having pictures taken at events they see her at, taking cute and funny selfies, hugging those who want to give her a hug and george just loves to see it happen.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
A R T H U R
his followers speculate before arthur actually announces that they're in a relationship...
he's much more of a soft launcher with the two of them as opposed to completely introducing her - he never sees the point in posting her alongside her social tags because she's not someone known to many in the world.
he can't hide on social media; and that doesn't stop him from being a simp for her. people go digging once they see them together in public, people see that he likes her posts, they can see his comments and he doesn't see the problem because that's his girl and if he wants to show his love for her than he can. he just chooses not to launch her hard by giving her a dedicated post so people know who she is.
so when it's been long enough, and he sees that people love her and want to see more of her, he starts bringing her onto his channel.
that's how he properly and formerly introduces her.
"yn's here with me today."
"he needs the views, figured he may as well use me as clout."
"well- no, that's not- no-"
he gets so soft in the face, cheeks going red and he stutters and she loves that he still gets giddy over how she has such witty remarks back to him.
"i'm just messing, i'm here for my five minutes of fame."
"again, not what's happening."
and it's just sweet moments where people can truly see them for how they actually are together - so sickeningly in love with each other that it's almost too sweetly gross to witness.
and, my god, the edits that come out of it are something yn could sit and watch for days because it really captures just how they are as a couple. and she's no stranger to sharing them on her socials, saving them to her camera roll, showing them to arthur when they're sitting and aimlessly scrolling their accounts, commenting how she loves them and that it's so special to have their sweet and loving moments documented in such a way.
out in public, he's so soft with her and always stands close to her on their museum dates and they're always holding hands down the busy streets of london and he always holds her close to him on the tubes whenever they need to get public transports and he's always weary of her going over to meet those who had seen the two of them in the street... people take photos, they take videos, they share them all over the internet - they can't stop them from doing that. he knows she's just being kind but he always tells her that she can never been too careful. but she loves them just as much as he is thankful for them; and of course, he sits back and watches as they start showing off how much they adore her. xx
#arthurtv#arthurtv headcannons#arthurtv imagines#arthurtv fics#george clarkey#george clarkey imagines#george clarkey headcannons#george clarkey fics#chaos crew
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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 pt. iii ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary: through the days and weeks that pass after, your friendship becomes more complicated, imploding in on itself. fortunately, eddie wasn't going to let you go that easy.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, phone sex, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering/sex/all that jazz, babes, brief use of cuffs, innocence!kink, mentions of hard relationship with parents (reader), lots of teasing and some cheesy angsty with a spice of fluff. if this is all over the place, i'm sorry.
word count: 8.8k — part one, part two
Your parents start to ask about the wild-haired kid who constantly picks you up for school every morning now; it was something Eddie insisted on after realizing that not only did you not ride the bus or bike to school, you’d been walking for the past few years, school more than a mile away from your home–you’d been lying to him for a while about it, but it was harder to ignore now. You didn’t have the luxury of a car or parents that could drive you to school every morning. Eddie was having none of that, even despite your pending graduation, he wanted to make an effort where it counted the most—even with the littlest things.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” You complain to your parents, almost on a daily occurrence, watching as they eye the suspicious change in attitude and demeanor. You were happier, more carefree—it wasn’t completely one-eighty, but it was noticeable, “He’s just a guy I play Dungeons and Dragons with—we’re in the same grade.”
If that wasn’t already problem enough; the constant bickering and complaining from them about how bad of an influence that game was on kids—it was harmless, but the media had created quite the frenzy around it and your parents sucked it right up, spewing it back at you.
Eddie was never just some guy, either, and you wanted him so badly it pained you—it changed gradually, over the past few weeks he’d somehow charmed you even more. It started with the rides, sharing snacks with you at lunch, spending more and more time together after school at his designated smoke spot, watching quietly as he partook in the activities you chose to sit out on, despite how quickly he had begun to corrupt you and nightly phone calls had soon become a ritual.
They were truly sacred.
Eddie’s almost unhinged, the way he speaks to you now; the barrier of the phone giving him all the courage he needs to say what he feels, the deepest and dirtiest thoughts he holds back, always too terrified to say them to your face. It’s not like you cared (even if you totally did), you two weren’t a thing—whatever you had, it wasn’t special, but it was needed.
It made things easier now, having explored each other’s bodies to a certain extent; you could picture him, his hands, everything. You never had an orgasm now that wasn’t caused or led by Eddie, in one way or another. Eddie didn’t need you to confess that to him, it was pathetically obvious.
“Is that what you’re thinking about?” You wonder, voice high pitched and breathless, fingers buried deep inside your cunt, working tirelessly toward your own orgasm. “Want me to suck you off, Eddie?”
He groans, low and guttural—the harsh and filthy word leaving your lips was so unlike you; it always made Eddie feel some type of way. He wasn't sure how far you were willing to go, but he was learning more and more about you each day.
All the nastiest fantasies that you thought about—wanted him to do to you.
“Fuuuck,” He drags out, pussy clenching around your fingers at the sound of him desperately tugging at his dick over the receiver, phone resting lazily on his chest, moving with every staggering breath he took, “gotta get you on your knees, staring up all innocent and shit, those fucking eyes—“
He grunts, squeezing at the base of his dick.
One thing about Eddie, he enjoyed the edging. It was almost a game to him, how quickly he could bring himself to the brink, forcing himself into a full stop, still managing to maintain enough composure to help you toward your own. He almost never came before you. Almost.
“You fall apart so pretty,” You coo, gasping at a particular curl of your own fingers, before pulling the soaked digits out to drag over your swollen, sensitive clit, “love watching you come, Eddie.”
He mumbles a small ‘uh huh’, his mind momentarily elsewhere, mind hazy with thoughts to force himself from releasing too fast.
“Wanna know what you taste like,” Eddie nearly chokes at that, “it’s only fair, right? I mean, you’re the one that got to have all the fun last time.”
“You taste so fucking sweet,” He grits out, continuing his quick, harsh flicks of his wrist, gripping himself to the point of pain, nearly, “like honey, shit’s addicting.”
One taste and he was hooked; it was a drug.
“Gonna come, Eddie—wanna hear you.” You beg, voice broken and needy, fingers rubbing quick circles over the squishy bead, forcing your hand over your mouth as you nearly yelled, that pleasure high sneaking up on you quickly, orgasm hitting you with full force.
And it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard, how easily he just decides to let go, groaning openly into the phone. You can’t help but blush, knowing very well that it was all you—he couldn’t get enough.
“Oh, fuck,” He whines softly. You can hear the soft jingle of his leathered, chain bracelet as it rattles against his skin, milking his dick for all it’s worth. Eddie always makes a huge mess, having learned from his past mistakes that it was much easier to do this shirtless, “I don’t think I’ve came that hard in a while.” He admits after a long silence, still trying to catch his breath.
You giggle softly into the phone, adjusting and pulling the covers of your bed over you. He’s rustling around on his end, cleaning up his chest with, probably, another random article of clothing—then lets out a loud ‘oof’.
“Good to know I’ve still got it.” You joke, smiling wide, despite the fact that Eddie would never see it.
He only wanted to make you happy, it was a crime that he couldn’t see how easily he was capable of doing it.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you ever lost it.”
You make a small noise of indifference, “I can only work with so much—since I’ve never had sex before.”
He doesn’t comment on it, at least not audibly.
Eddie’s thought about it plenty, but doesn’t harp on the fact as much anymore. It used to be a big, lingering thing between you both—but eventually it faded into the distance, more about how much you both enjoyed each other and the company you kept, how easy it was to indulge in what you wanted; no worry or shame.
“I aced Kaminsky’s test, by the way,” Eddie adds, a familiar flick of his lighter on the other end, speech mumbled by the cigarette tucked between his lips, “then he tried to accuse me of cheating.”
“Eddie—you did,” You laugh, remembering how he begged you for the answers, though, the payment was definitely worth it; Eddie really enjoyed going down on you, “and you’re welcome.”
“Hey, I put in some work,” He defends feebly, “You came twice.”
“Okaaay,” You interrupt, knowing that if you continued down that path, it would be hard for both of you to stop, and you were too exhausted to keep things going, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Eddie couldn’t wipe the smug smile off of his face the rest of the night.
—
And despite Eddie’s vehement protests, you were becoming just as bad of an influence as he was. It’s exactly why he cancels Hellfire the following Friday, making up some lame excuse about how Wayne really needed his help with something; it was important and Eddie couldn’t do that to his uncle—aside from the fact that Wayne didn’t need him at all.
Eddie was on a high that day, particularly naughty for no reason at all—the quick touches to your waist, lingering fingers his hand rested against the back of your neck, or he’s undying need to press himself up against your back as he passed through the busy hallway—he was at least semi-hard almost the entire school day, doing everything he could to drive you absolutely mad. Unfortunate for him, it had.
“Huh uh,” You shook your head, shoved into the dark confines of the theater room—the others still had a while before they would arrive, but you were determined to not let him slide, not this time. Your hand is fisted in the front of his worn Hellfire Club shirt, his back crowded against the wall, “You’re going to tell them to go home.”
“What?” Eddie balks, eyes wide and hands thrown out to his side in disbelief, “I can’t do that!”
He was still willing to put up a fight.
“Fine,” You say, releasing your steady grip on him. His face quickly morphs to puzzled as he watches you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.
“Wait, you’re leaving?” He asks, hand wrapping around your bicep gently. “Sweetheart…”
His words linger, the words he needs to say never coming to fruition. You smile sickeningly sweet, running a finger over the wide expanse of his rings.
You nod, staring down at his fingers as they gripped you tighter, “Actually, give me your rings.” You say suddenly, eyes glancing up to him. You half expect him to refuse, but he doesn’t. Eddie hands them over so easily that you’re a little stricken by it, but that wasn’t going to deter your efforts.
You grasp the chunky rings in your palm and pocket them.
Eddie watches closely as you lean toward him, all sense of personal space out the window, lips barely grazing his own, “Now—I’m gonna go home, put these on, and fuck myself with my fingers until I’m coming all over them.” Eddie pales at the admission.
“So, rain check?” You smile innocently, “And I’ll bring these bad boys back to you in a couple days?” You pat at the stuffed pocket.
Eddie would have to wait the entire weekend and that just wouldn’t do.
“You’re so fucking evil,” Eddie complains, the slightest hint of smirk crossing his face. He enjoyed the game, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. You’d become increasingly more relaxed, willing to bend the rules—though, he was really regretting it now. He tosses you his keys in defeat, “Go start the van.”
You giggle proudly, catching the keys.
Fortunately, the group didn’t care much about Eddie canceling.
—
Eddie still had an edge to him the moment you arrived at his trailer. He wasn’t angry, or mad—but definitely frustrated. The lingering tension between you had been growing by the day and it was finally coming to a head.
Eddie bites at the inside of your thigh in warning, causing you to squeal out in response, shoving gently at his head. “What the fuck?” You ask, vocabulary becoming more and more colorful the longer you hang out with him. “That wasn’t nice.”
“You want nice?” Eddie asks teasingly, face so close to your cunt, just a inch forward and he’d be there, mouth buried against you. It was a dangerous game of back and forth you’d both been playing that day, both of you determined to come out on top. ‘Nice like how you made me cancel Hellfire today?”
You try to interrupt, but Eddie pulls your thighs wider, bordering on slightly uncomfortable. The dynamic between you both was—-well, tense, at times. It was either perfect and quaint and just a means to relieve tension, but other times; it was a dangerous game of cat and mouse, one of you bound to lose miserably.
You gasp softly, eyes following his intense gaze, “Nice like how you made me walk around all day half-hard, knowing that I couldn’t do anything about it?” There’s bits behind his words, mostly frustrated with himself, rather than you.
“Does that seem nice to you?” He asks.
“And you think it’s okay to touch me the way you do?” You ask carefully, eyes wandering to the fingers wrapped firmly around your thighs, digging into the soft flash, “In front of everyone?”
He knew people were watching, that was the problem. It felt like he was making a spectacle out of you; not that it was a bad thing, but you enjoyed the secrecy and privacy within your friendship. You didn’t have to explain anything to anyone—who cares if you liked to mess around with your best friend? It wasn’t anyone’s business but yours—but when eyes started to wander and pry, that’s what was harder to deal with.
You were both entirely too pent up with frustration, but also undoubtedly riddled with sexual tension, ready to jump each other at any moment—still, you weren’t ready. You couldn’t bring yourself to cross that line.
It wasn’t because you were scared or worried—you knew the moment you agreed or caved, it became real, and you couldn’t handle the idea of being in love with Eddie, having such a strong relationship with him, all for it to fall apart because of one silly little encounter that could make or break your friendship. This wasn’t just sex for Eddie—even when he was frustrated or annoyed, he still managed to have all the amount of tenderness one could hold.
“Just—stop,” You sigh, forcing yourself away from him, sitting up in his bed, “I’m not in the mood anymore.”
Things had ramped up quickly since the night at the lake—which wasn’t only Eddie’s fault. You both shared the blame equally, but it was starting to catch up to you; you didn’t know how to handle it.
Eddie reaches out gently, rubbing your knee with his fingers. Even his touch burned, but not in the way you liked. It was all too overwhelming right now, you wanted to hide. “Hey, I’m sorry—I thought we were playing into it, you know?”
“Being mean to each other?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “Teasing, maybe. But, I was never trying to be mean—you remember when we agreed not to tell anyone about this?”
Eddie nods slowly, hands still glued to your knee—you wanted to push it away, but you also never wanted it to leave.
“People watch us all the time—you make it worse when you touch me the way you do.” You breathe through your nose, “Friends don’t touch each other like that, Eddie.”
“Who cares?”
Eddie was on a completely different wavelength, so blinded by how much he cared for you, that it didn’t matter who was around.
“I do.” You didn’t understand why it wasn’t clicking—why he couldn’t see how much it bothered you. That’s why you tried to mask it so hard at school, play it off like a game. Even if Eddie felt the same way you did—which was impossible, because it was. It just was. There wasn’t a need for explanation. You were his friend, but you were also a convenience, at least that’s how it felt.
Despite how kind Eddie was, friend or not, this was bound to end horribly.
“Then what—do you want to stop?” Eddie asks, the smallest hint of surprise in his tone; he didn’t understand where any of this was coming from. He couldn’t understand what he did wrong.
“Not stop,” You explain, “Maybe…take a break?”
Like this was a relationship; you were very well aware that it was not.
Eddie chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, quiet for longer than you’re used to, trying to absorb everything you were saying. He felt terrible, like he’d pushed you too far. But the truth of that matter was, he just couldn’t help himself—he wanted to be around you as often as possible, as much as you would let him—but you weren’t ready, and even if he wanted you to be, he wasn’t going to force you.
He’d wait as long as it took for you to realize.
“Okay,” He agrees, his voice soft. “Did you want me to take you home?”
And truthfully, that’s the last thing on your mind. You just wanted your friend, without all the complicated strings attached. Just Eddie.
“No,” You shake your head slightly, “Can we just—-lay here for a while, maybe?”
Eddie always provides just the right amount of care you need, it’s a deep reminder of how special he was to you. Regardless of everything else, he was the only source of comfort you had right now.
You never go home that night and that’s what starts it all.
The fight with your parents the next morning is entirely your fault; nothing but a simple mistake to some, but to your parents—it was an atrocity, Eddie never stopped apologizing, even after they rarely let you leave the house—a month, two months; school, Hellfire, then home.
Your situation with Eddie dwindled quickly in the aftermath.
—
Eddie doesn’t call as often either, not for more than a few minutes—sometimes it’s questions about his campaign or questions for homework; it’s almost like none of it ever happened. You can’t blame him, though—your tone is so miserable that he starts to believe that he’s the problem.
You start walking to school again, as much as Eddie hates to watch. But, he knows your sense of pride—you weren’t going to ask him, not after how badly things went with your parents. You never talked about it and he didn’t ask—he couldn’t.
And you seemed like a different person, most of the time. Though, you still smiled at his jokes—he was calling that a win. And you did get to see him everyday, which was nice, but it wasn’t like before—it would never be like before.
You try desperately to ignore how badly you want to be around him, with him, surrounded by him. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you and makes you feel small. There were times when you wanted to reach out and grab his hand, just hold a part of him—but even that felt foreign now.
So when it does happen, it’s a shock to your system.
Everyone’s saying their goodbyes before the illusive Winter Break, talking about their big plans—but none of it really matters to you.
You parents always go on some big extravagant getaway around their anniversary—which you didn’t mind, it was actually sweet, seeing two people that were still so head over heels for each other; sweet enough to make you sick, in some regards. But, it meant you spent most of your time cooped up alone in your house, with nothing to do, no one to hang out with—it was lonely and you hated it.
“Princess,” The word tugs at your heart, a flood of memories hitting you at once, “any big plans for the holiday?”
You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Not a single one.” You tell him, watching as he leaned his shoulder against the wall beside you, leaned closely into your space—not enough to make you want to back away, though you’re not sure you would even if he did move closer. “Just a big, boring, empty house to myself for two weeks—my own personal hell.”
“That’s the perfect time to throw a total rager, you know.” He’s joking and it does make you laugh, but he can still see that something is clearly off.
“What about you?” You ask curiously, “Did you and Wayne manage to put the Christmas tree up before Christmas Eve this year?”
“Surprisingly—yeah,” He says through a short, chortled laugh. “Right after Thanksgiving, actually. You’d be proud.”
Your smile is forced, pulled together in a tight line.
He doesn’t ask, doesn’t even think twice, before pulling you to his chest, your arms wrapping him out of instinct, tugged snugly underneath his jacket, the warmth of his skin radiating through his thin raglan shirt.
“I’m sorry.”
Eddie apologizes too much and it’s a horrible habit.
“It’s okay, Eddie.” You say softly, squeezing him just a bit tighter, forcing yourself to remember this moment; it was the only recent memory you had of being close to him, you weren’t going to let yourself forget it.
It’s the first time he’s heard you say his name in a while; less condescending than usual, more endearing and genuine. He knew you meant it—he knew you were okay, but it still didn’t help that he was fighting every day to not just admit everything to you—it wasn’t what you needed, not right now.
Besides, he wasn’t sure if you would even care. It had been so long, why would any of it matter now?
—-
And by now, no one ever calls you but Eddie. So when the phone rings, it’s an automatic: “Yeah?” Through a voice sick with last night’s sleep, the rising sun peeking through your window.
“Are you busy today?” His voice is incredibly chipper for as early as it was—which, you weren’t even sure of the time.
“Eddie—what time is it?” You ask slowly, rubbing at your eyes, blurry with sleep.
“Seven.”
“In the morning?” You ask incredulously, head slumping against the pillow. “If it’s about the campaign, you can call me later.”
“No, no,” He rushes out, feeling the impending click he was about to receive, thus ending his chances at saying what he wanted to say; the whole reason he had even called in the first place, “It’s not that.”
It’s been two weeks since he’s talked to, seen you, it all felt too strange. The jackhammering beat of his heart behind his ribcage is enough to scare him out of saying anything, but he knows if he doesn’t get it out now, he’ll never be able to.
And maybe he should’ve called later, regretting having woken you up—and always lessen the time he had to feel dejected if you actually rejected him; he couldn’t tell where your head was at anymore, not that he really could before.
The silence that lingers is enough of a clue, triggering you to speak before Eddie does, “Did you want to come over?” You ask suddenly—it dawns on you that he’s never even been in your home. You knew the inside of his trailer like that back of your hand—it was cozier than your own home, more personal. The endless wall of mugs that Wayne loved to talk about, the littered baby pictures of Eddie strung around the place, always being held by a much younger Wayne—there was love there; complete opposite from what you felt at home.
Old you would’ve been terrified out of your mind to sneak a boy into your home—but at this point, you can’t be bothered to care. It’s almost like your parents were asking for it, leaving you alone like this; and if this was how you went out, you’d be content with it. Though, they were several miles away, so, there was no harm in trying.
“Uh, yeah—yeah, sure.” Eddie tries to reply calmly, lamely hiding his immediate eagerness.
“Good,” You smile, “Bring snacks.”
Eddie spends almost twenty minutes fighting an internal battle over Twizzlers or chocolate, because for the life of him—he can’t remember which one you like more. He buys both.
—
When he does finally arrive, he’s standing at the door with his trademark grin, bags held out beside his head and it’s almost like none of all that bad shit ever happened.
“There any Twizzlers in those bags?” You ask suspiciously, almost like he’d lose his free pass inside if there weren’t
“I knew it!” He laughs, gently tossing the bag in your direction. “I also got those little chocolates you like, the tiny ones wrapped in foil and—“
A kiss on his cheek is the last thing he’s expecting, before being promptly pulled past the threshold of your front door.
He’s confused, eyeing you like you’d grown a second head.
“A kiss for the kisses, right?” You say coyly, “I’ll still pay you back, don’t worry.”
“Oh, no—no, it’s fine.” Eddie says, very adamant in his refusal, “It was just pocket change, I’m not worried.”
A silence settles over you both, leading him to the large couch in your living room. He’s never been in a house so spacey, not squeezed and filled to the brim with furniture.
“I won’t say no to kisses, though.”
It was so easy to settle into old habits.
You laugh to yourself, placing the snacks on the small table set in the center of the room. “All out of those now too, unfortunately.”
Eddie’s dressed so casually it almost shocks you—a secondhand sweater that was definitely Wayne’s at one point or another, worn at the collar and a muted black that has been run through the washing machine one too many times, despite the tag's insistent warning to hand wash only—matched with a pair of ripped black jeans and his favorite Reeboks. But now he’s just standing there, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly.
He wouldn’t let anyone else catch him like this. They’d be dead the moment they saw him. Especially with the way he tucked his hair behind his ears, you could swoon at the sight—but you knew well enough to keep your composure.
And comparatively, you were dressed in something similar, opting for sweatpants rather than jeans, choosing to be huddled up on the couch by the fireplace tucked in the wall of your living room—Hawkin’s winters were brutal.
“Sit,” You motioned toward the couch, shoving a continuously replayed copy of Risky Business into the VHS player, “stop acting so weird.”
He quirks any eyebrow at the movie choice, toeing off his shoes to rest his feet atop the table, arm slung over the back of the couch, “That one, really?”
“Oh, fucking can it, Eddie.” You warn, tossing the cardboard cover to the ground and starting the movie.
Eddie huffs a short laugh, his gaze following you until you’re placed opposite of him, pointedly putting enough space between you both—neither of you needed the mixed signals.
Though, you were the one that invited him over in the first place. There wasn’t any real reasoning behind it—you missed him, that was it. It didn’t matter that you were desperately in love with the boy.
He hits the side of your foot with his own sock covered one, tossing you the bag of snacks. Stubbornness be damned, you were still going to enjoy the sweets he bought for you.
When he sneaks his hand into the bag of chewy red ropes, you almost gasp, watching as he brings the candy to his lips and pulls, yanking off a small piece.
“What are you doing?” You ask, watching Eddie’s eyes peek over at you.
This man has never touched a Twizzler in his life and decided to start now?
“Eating?” Wasn’t it obvious? He takes another small bite. He’s clearly putting some force behind the swallow.
“You hate Twizzlers.” You remind him, pulling the candy from his hand.
“But you love them.” He offers, like it’s a cure all.
“Oh, sweetheart,” You chuckle fondly, shoving the bags to the side, “I have popcorn and drinks—you don’t have to put yourself through that much misery to hang out with me.”
The smile that Eddie cracks is a win for you.
“Thank god,” He sighs in relief, “Would you mind?”
After all is said and done, he’s sitting even straighter, digging into the bowl of popcorn like a man starved. You try not to think about it; how easily he would’ve suffered through something so easily fixed, just to be around you. And he could’ve easily bought something for himself, but he was so focused on what you’d wanted that he forgot entirely.
—
Candy forgotten, you’ve both got your hands shoved into the bowl of popcorn, eating absently through random questions:
“What about Tom Cruise?” Eddie asks curiously, going down his long list of compiled men that he knew you had to be attracted—at least one.
“Mmm, no.” You disagree, shaking your head furiously. He chuckles at the face you make, mocking the way your nose scrunches up in disgust.
“Yeah, I didn't think so.” He agrees. “Doesn’t seem like your type.”
“My type?” You ask, curiosity peaked. “Oh, honey—do tell. What is my type then?”
If Eddie is bothered by the endearment, he doesn’t show it.
He shrugs; not wanting to answer the question outright. He was the one who brought it up, so of course you were going to press him on it. You couldn’t recall ever having a type—aside from Eddie, but that had nothing to do with how he looked, not that he wasn’t already beautiful in his own right, but you can remember a time you’ve ever felt so pulled toward someone because of the way they looked; it was impossible.
“Uh, guys with long hair, you know.” He explains, hands moving animatedly as he talks, motion at his own hair. “Really good at guitar, killer music taste—“
You see what he’s trying to do, but you’re not letting him off that easily.
“Oh yes—Eddie Van Halen is pretty cute, now that I think about it.” You make a thoughtful face, bottom lip jutting out as you pondered, but the only person you really had in mind was your Eddie.
And Eddie has those sick, puppy dog eyes at the sudden admission, thinking you’ve missed the point completely.
“But, I guess my Eddie isn’t so bad either.”
It doesn’t immediately register with your own brain when you say it, a mindless thought slipping through your mouth unfiltered.
His eyebrows skyrocket to the ceiling, watching your cheeks blush the deepest shade of red. You face feels hot, your body feels hot, and you really can’t believe you just fucking said that.
“I mean—“ You fumble through your words, deciding on a lame, “You know what I mean.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything, grin growing wider on his face—savoring in your slip up.
“Shut up.” You shove him, placing both your hands against his chest in an effort to throw him—wipe the stupid smile off his face, “Shut your face up right now or I swear to—“
Eddie’s hands grip the length of your wrists, wrapping around loosely, but it’s enough to keep him from falling back; unfortunately, it pulls you closer.
“Swear to what?” Eddie presses, watching you with those mesmerizing brown eyes, even you couldn’t pull your gaze away.
“Eddie,” You warn him, pulling gently at the hold he has on you. He doesn’t budge, “let go.” And still, your voice is too unconvincing.
“Do you really want me to?” Eddie asks.
No. Fuck, no. You want to say the memories flood back to you, but they’ve been there the entire time; your entire friendship with Eddie had been built on trust—trust in each other that there was never any judgment, even before everything got complicated, he was still, very much, the only person you could rely on and regardless of what happens here or after, he was never going to be out of your life, not really.
“Whatever’s going on in that head of yours,” He speaks again, realizing how distant you were—he could see how hard your brain was working to come up with something, anything to get yourself out of what you really wanted to say, “just say it.”
“We can’t.” You tell him. Eddie doesn’t need to be a genius to figure that out, but nevertheless, his grip still remains. “Is that why you called earlier?”
“It feels weird not being around you,” Eddie confesses, “and I fucking hate it.”
He hates that he can’t get you out of his head, as hard as he tried. This was all his fault anyways; turning nothing into something. It all started as a game—and Eddie never really expected it to go as far as it did, but it left him wanting more and more, until he just wanted you. He didn’t want you as a friend, he wanted you as everything that came with that, but more.
He wanted to hold you when you were upset, but still be offered the same sentiment. He wanted to kiss you in front of his friends, without you constantly fearing the judgement—he wanted to introduce himself to your parents properly, and then maybe they wouldn’t hate him so much. Eddie wanted you in every way conceivably possible. He’s never done relationships, they weren’t his thing; but for you, he wanted it.
And what started of as a silly, stupid little crush he had on you in the beginning, even before he made those choices on the phone, it was always there—but, it had grown out of control.
“I know,” You reply quietly, “I miss you—it, everything.”
You don’t elaborate, but Eddie knows.
“I’m sorry my parents hate you,” Eddie watches the way you talk to your hands and his grip loosens, hands settling on the side of your thigh, where your leg rested against the couch, tucked between the both of you, other foot planted against the cushion, knee up near your face, “and I’m sorry that I was so scared of it.”
“Of what?”
“Being with you—I know that’s what you wanted.” And it’s the first time you feel like you can breathe, Eddie however, is now feeling just as small. “And the problem is—I hate how long I’ve wanted it too.”
Eddie wants to say something, but the words are stuck in his throat. His hand squeezes at the squishy flesh of your thigh, a comforting gesture, still quiet as he tries to find the right thing to say.
“And I mean like, being your girlfriend—not just being with you, physically.” You reach for his fingers, intertwining them with your own. He still got his chunky rings on, the jewelry like an extension of himself. “Not that I don’t want that either—I just, I don’t even know where I’m trying to go with this anymore.”
Fortunately, Eddie does—and to put you out of your endless misery, not knowing how to make the doubtful thoughts stop, he kisses you.
It’s not long or drawn out, either—it’s short and sweet and exactly what you need in that moment.
“I’m not asking you to label anything,” Eddie explains, “I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want, even if it’s in front of people we know.”
And it shouldn’t make you laugh, but it does.
“Or hug you, at least. We haven’t been friends for a while, princess—I think that’s pretty fucking obvious.”
Blatantly, in fact.
Eddie didn’t care about labels. He cared about you.
—
He does kiss you square on the mouth the first morning back at school another couple weeks later, for all of your friends to see—and you really can’t help yourself either, going back in for a second kiss when you realize just how mortified they all look; maybe it wasn’t all so bad. Your parents however, that was a different situation.
It was another obstacle to tackle at another time—maybe never, if it was up to you. Either way, it’s put on the back burner for the sake of your sanity, because there was no other outcome in sight aside from literal house arrest—it was exactly what happened last time.
And while you could easily disagree and pull the adult card, it was easier to ignore it for now. You enjoyed the blissful ignorance for what it was, no need to ruin the one good thing in your life.
“Are we still on for tonight?” Eddie asks, jacket tossed over his shoulder lazily. You nod, a cheeky grin spreading across your face.
“They think I’m spending the night with Robin, so we’re in the clear.”
You owed Robin for the rest of fucking eternity for this.
“You know, you could just tell them.” He offers, like it’s the simplest solution in the world. Tell them, risk being disowned, grounded until graduation—all out of love, they promised. But really, it was just another way to control you. It was never that simple.
“You’re so cute,” You reply, patting softly at his chest, “but no.”
And things fall back into place easily with Eddie, spread out over his lap on the old couch in his trailer, knees bracketing his hips. He’s playing with the front of your shirt, pulling at the tacky design that was falling from the cloth—
He thinks the first glide of your hips is a mistake, adjusting yourself on his lap more comfortably, until you do it again. And he’s been so deprived that he can’t find it in him to stop you, hands falling to your waist in defeat, gripping loosely.
“Don’t stop,” He breathed out, head falling against the back of the couch, mouth hung open partly as his eyes connected with the spot where your hips were working tirelessly, “please, don’t stop.”
You don’t know what brought it out of you; maybe it was the lack of physical touch for so long, or maybe you had just been lonely—regardless it’s the type of pleasure you find yourself getting lost in, barely in control of your own body.
Reaching for his hand, you guide him to cup over your clothed cunt, the barely there press of his palm enough to drive you insane. “Want you to fuck me, Eddie.”
“You serious, princess?” He asks softly, eyes half lidded but still locked on you, on your intertwined hands where they rested against your body. “We don’t have to—you know I’ll always wait until you’re okay with it.”
“I wouldn’t be telling you that if I didn’t want to.” He’s so precious it hurts, the way his smile stretches across his face; the same type of smile he has when he’s two blunts in and gone for the night, it’s a similar high, being with you.
—
Eddie closes the door to his bedroom with a soft click, immediately bounding for the bed, crawling his way toward you until he’s right over you, forcing himself between your legs carefully, swinging them up and over his hips until you’re clinging to him.
He kisses at the side of your stomach playfully, biting the tender flesh. You gasp softly, surprised by the nip. “Wanna try something?” Eddie asks suddenly, the idea popping into his head before he can force it out.
“Should I be worried?” You ask quizzically, watching as he pushes away from you, leaning toward the metal cuffs hanging from his wall. Your eyes widen in disbelief—and it’s not like you didn’t know he had them, they stuck out like a sore thumb, but Eddie also never made it a point to talk about them. Your innocent mind always assumed it was just decoration; odd choice, but you weren’t in any place to judge.
“Hey—only if you want to,” Eddie reminds, placing them in your hand for your own curiosity. They’re definitely real, cold and hard to the touch—you pull at the long chain that connects them, “it’s safe and I can always take them off if you don’t like it.”
And you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to see what it was all about, handing them back to Eddie with an eager nod. Eddie’s smile is warm, his touch gentle as he binds your hands in the contraption, leaning you back until your arms are resting over your head—your panties come next, lifting your hips in assistance as he slides them down your bare legs.
“This seems counterintuitive,” There’s too much slack to your wrists, a little constrained, but still moveable—it defeats the purpose.
“I usually don’t use them like that,” Eddie points out, a smug look on his face. He doesn’t want to elaborate, mostly because talking about other sexual encounters in the midst of another didn’t seem like the best idea, but they way your face widens in embarrassment, cheeks flushing a light shade of pink—it almost makes him want to explain, “I guess I’m trusting you to keep them up there for now—no touching, yeah?”
You giggle softly, watching Eddie crawl backwards until he’s settled between your legs, hands gripping the back of your thighs to push them apart and wide—and god, he’s missed this.
The first swipe of his tongue is long, hot, a trail of saliva up the seam of your pussy. You’d never get over how easily Eddie could work you up. He sucks delicately at your sensitive clit, using the grip he had on your legs to force you to squirm a little, his thumbs digging into the apex of your thighs.
The chains jingle slightly, instinctively spreading your arms apart at the motion. “Hey, not fair.” You gasp out, savoring in the way Eddie laughs against your cunt, mumbling a muffled, “That’s the point.”
Either way, it effectively shuts you and your rambling thoughts up, moaning unabashedly at the way Eddie worshiped you, the squelching sounds of your wetness the last thing you were worried about. His fingers rub along your folds teasingly, causing you to tense slightly. Eddie senses your nerves, pulling away to look at you.
“I’ll go slow,” He assures you, “Just be vocal with me, alright?”
Words—yeah, those were good. If only you could come up with some.
And the first dip of his finger is light, barely a pressure as he rubs it into your slick, wetting his finger. And it’s not like you’ve never had a finger inside of you before—they had been your own, of course, and that was precisely the problem. His middle finger slides in easily, not much resistance, but the stretch is nice.
He’s slow and attentive, watching the way your face scrunches in pleasure when he crooks his finger a certain way or rubs his tongue against your clit teasingly; he’s trying to drag this out, give you the time you need, but you really can’t handle it.
“More,” You beg, too aware of your lack of being able to touch him. You wanted to bury your hands in his curly mess of hair and press him into you; force him to give you exactly what you want, “want more, Eddie.”
The second finger is surprising, his so much larger than your own. “Are they?” Eddie asks suddenly, pulling you from deep concentration, not realizing you’d even spoken out loud.
“Fuller,” You note, hiccupping at a curl of his fingers, hitting something so deep inside of you that it’s almost a shock to your system, “bigger, definitely bigger.”
It seems to spur Eddie on, watching you thrash and moan, desperate as you fuck yourself against his own fingers, letting you chase your own pleasure at your own pace. “That’s it,” He encourages, the soft noises that escape you are enough to have him rutting against the bed, but he’s really struggling to control himself, “wanna watch you come on my fingers, princess.”
All over his rings, he thinks—just as you had teased him before. He takes the moment to tease you in return, “Never gonna take these fucking things off as long as they’re covered in you.”
“Eddie,” You whine out softly, begging, “just want you inside me, please?”
“Yeah?” He asks, his thumb ghosting over your swollen clit, small circles causing you to keen forward, hands struggling desperately now against the metal barrier, “Think you can take it, sweetheart?”
You nod desperately, moaning loudly at his assault on your sensitive bud, orgasm crashing over you like a wave. “Off, take them off.” You pant through the downfall, swinging the cuffs over your head. Eddie works quickly, using the resistance of the chain to pull you upright toward him, letting you out of them easily, like he’s done it a million times before—or practiced, at least. You pull him toward you in an instant, shirt yanked over his head in the process.
“Condom.” He reminds you, fumbling anxiously with his belt and pants. He nods toward his bedside table, “Grab it.”
Eddie’s still struggling with his pants even after you grab the small foil package. He’s just as unprepared and nervous as you are; it’s entirely too poetic.
“Hey, calm down,” You console him softly, looking up at him where he’s knelt in front of you, “we’re okay.”
And he wants to laugh at how stupid he feels—why did you need to be the one calming him down?
“I just don’t want to fuck this up for you.” Eddie admits.
It’s the last thing on your mind.
—
Eddie presses himself against your folds, dragging through the wetness slowly, a gentle, occasional rock of his hips, the tip of his cock sliding up against your clit each time. It took him a while to shut his thoughts down, but once he had you laid out before him, looking at him so wantonly, he was done for.
“Eddie.” It’s a plea, desperate and raw.
It’s met with a kiss; deep, meaningful, the press of his lips distracting you from the sting as he presses into you with the firm, ruddy tip of his cock. The gasp you let out against his mouth is obscene, but you can’t deny how good it feels to be stretched open by him. He gives a small, shallow thrust—a small nod of your head, then another, until he’s nearly bottomed out inside of you.
“Fuck.” You curse, lips sliding against his own in a mess fight of tongue and teeth.
“You okay?” He asks cautiously, pulling back to check your expression. You don’t realize how intimate it all is until you’re staring him down, his eyes scanning you carefully.
“Yeah,” You assure him with a soft smile. “You don’t have to be so careful, you know?”
Eddie lets out a small snort of amusement, rising on his legs until he’s upright, adjusting your legs until they’re skin securely over his hips, the weight of them resting in his palms. “Wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart.”
Eddie knew your limits and exactly what you were capable of—even sneakier than himself, sometimes. So he kicks it up a notch, spewing all types of lewd, filthy sounds out as he fucks into you steadily, hands resting against the tops of your thighs firmly, using the leverage to pull you back against him with every snap.
And it feels too fucking good.
“Thought you wanted to ruin me,” You snarked through the show he’s putting on, not that you weren’t enjoying it. He wasn’t faking in the slightest, absolutely wrecked by the sight of you stretched out over his cock, he’s never been so distracted in his life, “what happened to that?”
“I ruined you a long time ago, princess.” He says through bated breath, hips snapping harshly. “The moment you met me.”
You can’t argue either. It’s all true.
“Some pretty babe like you, wanting to fuck a freak like me?” It’s a redundant question, but the twinge in your heart hurts. Eddie was one of the most self-deprecating people you knew and it was unfortunate, because he was oblivious to just how good of a person he was; regardless of how he carried himself. “Feels fucking amazing.” He comments off-handedly, eyes locked on the point of connection, watching the way your cunt gripped him so shamelessly.
“Stop—stop talking about yourself like that.” You insist weakly, mewling at the pace he’d set, hands moving higher to rest along your hip bone, his thumbs pressing into the top of your pelvis, like he was trying to hold you there—not that you had any thought to move.
“Fuck, you feel that?” Eddie asks hotly, leaning forward so your knees are nearly pressed to your chest, creating an angle that’s almost unbearable.
You nod desperately, gasp ripping from your chest as he starts a rhythm of slow, deep thrust into you. You find something to hold, settling on the solid chain of his neck, watching as the pick bounced against your hand steadily. “Eddie, I’m gonna—“
“Yeah?” He eggs on, a smile splitting across his face, “you want to, huh?”
Never more in your life than right now, actually.
“Look so pretty this way,” He says, tone flooded with adoration and lust, “like you were made for me.”
You nod dumbly, willing to agree with anything now, so drunk on your own selfish pleasure that he could coerce you into just about anything.
“It’s so special, don’t you think?” Eddie asks, failing to keep his voice steady. He’s a mess of grunt and groans, so close to your face you can feel the breath from his mouth, his lips barely grazing your own. “No one’s had you—had you like this except for me.”
“Only you.” You agree, reveling in the groan that Eddie lets out into your own mouth, his grip fumbling to maneuver you closer, less twisted up as your legs fall to his hips again, letting him chase after his own orgasm, your body just another means to an end—though, it wasn’t ever going to be that for Eddie. “Fuck, Eddie.”
“Want you to come with me, baby.” He tells you, guiding your own hand between the two of you, skin against skin and every touch felt like a shock to your body, a live wire of sexual current as it pulsed through you. You wanted to hear him say it again. Baby, baby, baby.
His hands find your face, gripping the side of it gently, slotting his own mouth of yours, tongue delving into uncharted territory. You weren’t sure if you enjoyed being kissed—or just being kissed by Eddie. He was never halfway about anything, forcing everything he had into whatever he was doing.
It’s the best, most heartbreaking feeling in the world—that he feels like he may lose you, even after all of this.
“Eddie.” You cry gently; it’s the only word you can cling to in moments like this.
“You’re okay,” He soothes, leaning back to lock eyes with you. You want to hide, shrink away into nothing, his gaze so intense and strong that it makes you full body blush, cunt ceasing around him in pleasure, “look at me.”
And you do, face squeezed gently between his hand as he holds you, watching you fall apart beneath him.
“Wanna watch you,” He murmurs against your lips, pulling back at the exact moment you feel yourself lose whatever control you thought you had, moaning lewdly into his mouth until you’re a shaking, mumbling mess, “fuck—I’m close, baby.”
Eddie uses it to urge himself on, grip tightening on your thigh as he pumps into you one last time, harsh and deep, coming with his face scrunched, eyes squeezed shut by how hard the peak of his orgasm hits him.
When you both finally come to, it’s a miracle; a soft exchange of laughs as the realization hits you. Eddie smooths the wild hair out of your face, kissing the very tip of your nose—it feels intimate, a flood of emotions hitting you all at once. You didn’t like this boy, you loved him; it scared the hell out of you.
—
“Cuddling?” You ask, watching as Eddie slings his arm over your middle, pulling you as close as possible. “You’re such a fucking sap.”
Eddie rubs his freshly showered face into the crook of your neck, wet hair slapping you in the face. “Does it bother you?” He laughs, leaving small, lingering pecks along the line of your neck, up behind your ear and into your hair, also wet.
“No.” You smile softly, turning your body until you’re fully snuggled into his shirtless chest, pressing your lips to the jugular notch of his neck, just between his collarbones.
“Good.” He says quietly, fingers winding into your hair, caressing the back of your neck.
Sleep hits Eddie quickly, or so you thought, the soft rumble of his snores like white noise, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
And the words hang on your lips, something you’ve thought over and fought with for weeks, months, the entirety of your friendship—you couldn’t help but love him, and even if you weren’t ready to say it to his face, you could say it to yourself, to this small space between you both, huddled against his resting body.
“I love you.”
It’s so quiet you don't even hear yourself say it—until you realize that it wasn’t you. You peer up at him, eyes still closed.
“I have for a while,” He admits, startling you further. He peeks an eye open, smiling at how mortified you look, “but I didn’t want to scare you—“
“I love you.” You say before you can talk yourself out of it, “I love you, too—and not just because of this, Eddie. I need you to know that.”
He does.
And he feels the impending ramble coming, but silences it with a kiss—so deep and intimate that you want to cry, pulling back with tear brimmed eyes.
“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” He reminds you, his voice hushed and quiet in the small space shared between you, “I’m always going to be here, no matter how you feel about me or how I feel about you.”
Eddie senses your anxiety, soothing the worry from your face, thumb smooth over your furrowed brow in a successful attempt to calm you.
“You’re stuck with me,” He tells you, full intention to never lose you, “for life, sweetheart.”
And if that was the case, it was fine with you.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#my writing#1kfic
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