#my table just got very VERY crowded. and I was not expecting that.
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2024 China Grand Prix Race Analysis
Here is my full analysis of the 2024 Chinese Grand prix. I already covered the sprint in a separate post here.
The important thing to keep in mind about this weekend is that the Chinese track was a very unique surface. It caused a lot of unusual grip problems for many of the top teams. I think as a whole that this race saw some outlier results as far as car behavior goes.
Table of Contents
Stake
- Zhou
- Valtteri
Ferrari
- Start
- Charles: his race, vs Lando
- Carlos
- Data Analysis
Mclaren
- Lando
- Oscar
- Data Analysis
Penalties
- Logan
- Kevin
- Daniel
- Lance
VCARB
Aston Martin
Red Bull
- Checo
Final Thoughts
Stake
Zhou
I usually start these with Ferrari. However this is a special occasion. So we are starting the analysis by celebrating Zhou and his performance this weekend.
This was the first Chinese Grand Prix in Formula 1 history with a Chinese driver racing on track. Zhou Guanyu made history and considering the car he's in he gave a good performance for the home crowd. Between qualifying 10th in the sprint, making some pretty good overtakes during the race, and carrying his team after Valtteri's DNF it was a pretty good weekend all around.
It was so nice to see all of the home support for Zhou. He was given an honorary spot at parc fermé after the race, and I am so glad they did something special to highlight this moment for him and the country he is representing in F1.
Zhou driving this weekend really was the highlight. This was only ever going to happen once in F1. Glad I was here to see it.
Valtteri unfortunately suffered a power unit failure and had to retire from the race. No damage to the car. This did bring out the yellow flag and a VSC. And when the marshals were unable to roll the car off the track quickly enough it upgraded to a full safety car(don’t worry we will be coming back to this)
He was looking pretty good in the car until that point, actually getting close to the points. I think we might see Stake in the points this year if they ever get their pit stops under control.
Ferrari
Ferrari's race was probably the weakest for the team so far this season. It wasn't really a surprise though. The cooler temperatures and inconsistent track surface were not ideal for the SF24.
Charles started in P6 and finished P4, Carlos started P7 and finished P5.
I do consider this not to be indicative of any downward trend for Ferrari. It was pretty predictable and it did not reveal any issues in the SF-24 we weren't already aware of (tyre warming)
Ferrari did say that they sacrificed more in qualifying in favor of a better race setup. And I don't think this was necessarily a bad idea. It's impossible to say if a different setup might have put them higher and if they have been able to defend with that setup. Going for a more race focused setup and relying on the better tyre deg to be able to allow for overtaking is a pretty good plan, especially if they didn't think they could get much more out of qualifying.
This did mean that we got to see some proper overtakes in the SF-24 from Charles and that is something we just haven't seen a lot of this season so far. So seeing how it handles in that regard was good.
So the big question is, why did Ferrari suddenly end up behind a Mclaren when Ferrari have been easily beating them all season?
Well there are a few factors:
- Ferrari struggled this weekend with grip and failed to find the best balance in the car to maximize top speeds. They did sacrifice some downforce in favor of speed during the race but I don't think it was enough. It didn't do enough to help the top speeds and it sacrificed grip so we ended up a weird middle ground that didn't optimize either problem. This track surface really made it so hard to figure out the right direction for setup.
- Mclaren(Lando) were stronger than expected. Lando was really the one pulling performance out of that car.
I will point out some key areas on this in the data analysis section as well.
Race Start
The most notable thing about Ferrari’s race was the start, when Carlos compromised his and Charles’ start by attacking right into turn 1. This forced Charles to have to defend(something he should not have to do right off the race start from his own teammate who started behind) and this resulted in them both immediately losing a place to Russell. This was a place they both had to fight to make up.
Again, this kind of thing isn’t good when compromising the results for the whole team is the result.
Footage Analysis
Just so we are clear about who is responsible for the loss of placement I want to show the footage from this start. This is from Carlos' driver cam footage as it most clearly shows what happened.
Charles starts P6 with Carlos behind him in P7. George is behind them in P8.
Into turn 1 Charles has the inside line, very clearly. Carlos has the outside line into the turn, this is fine. Charles is also clearly ahead.
Carlos pushes inside more, putting pressure on Charles. Notice how much closer Carlos got and how much space he left on the outside(another vulnerability he left open)
Charles pushes Carlos back(to defend which he has to do if attacked especially into a crowded corner like that a the race start)
Charles then took full position in front of Carlos, and this allowed George to slip past both of them on the inside line.
Because Carlos forced Charles to defend George was able to take that inside line that Charles had and passed both of them, dropping Charles and Carlos down a place.
Charles cannot defend both the outside and inside line on his own. He defended against the car that put pressure on him first. His teammate should not be the main one he has to defend team track position against.
Carlos compromised Charles' ability to defend position against George(which is the priority, he's on a rival team that is more important than racing between teammates)
Again if he is attacked Charles has to defend, why would he give up the place to the teammate he was faster than? Nothing would have happened if Carlos hadn’t pulled this move. Charles would have kept George behind and they might have been able to overtake earlier in the race and gain one more position, because they lost a full position to George this early they had to take that back before they could make progress climbing further up the field.
Carlos
This was Carlos' weakest performance so far this year. He compromised the race start for himself and Ferrari causing them both to lose placement immediately. Then he was unable to overtake. The only real overtakes he's pulled off were on cars with seriously compromised brakes.
He struggled with grip and tyres more than Charles. They both had issues in this area but it was more noticeable in his performance.
Charles finished 10.36 seconds ahead of his teammate who was directly behind him in the final 13 laps this race. And that gap can be explained by the fact Carlos was stuck behind Fernando for more laps(as well as a pit stop), however once he got into clean air he did not make up any time at all, his pace didn’t gain on Charles at all with the clean air. A gap in pace that big between teammates is concerning(at least for Carlos) It may be due to his personal choice of setup, or tyre management, or grip in the track. Given that he had more issues with grip on this track I am thinking that was a factor. He lost most of his time on turns 1, 5, 7, 8, and 10.
Edit: also Carlos did pit under normal conditions while Charles pitted under the safety car, this saved Charles some time(aprox 7-8 seconds), however the main point stands that Carlos did not make any progress closing the gap between them.
Charles
Charles' overtakes climbing up the field really saved Ferrari's race. Starting off by losing a position he climbed up places pulling some really clean overtakes and also helping his teammate through.
It was great to see him doing some overtaking in this car, he hasn't been in the position to do much of that due to track position etc in previous races. SF-24 looked good on that front in his hands.
Charles mentioned the lack of speed on straights, and this is due to the fact he wasn't able to gain on Lando in those sections(when he should have) this is due to the less than optimal downforce balance Ferrari went with this weekend(again I don't this is anything terribly concerning, this was a hard track to get that right on)
Overall Charles ran a really good race, obviously not the results he wanted but he extremely optimistic about the upgrades and that they will address some of the current limitations of the SF-24.
Data Analysis
I want to compare Charles and Lando's pace to highlight where Mclaren had the edge on Ferrari in this race. Charles was the fastest Ferrari this weekend and Lando was the fastest Mclaren.
First here is a breakdown of the fastest lap both driver's set.
Lando's straight line speed was really a big factor in keeping him ahead. That plus the fact he was consistently strong in sector 2.
And here is a look at the overall race pace between the two.
Ignore the mess in the middle, that curve is just correcting a slope for the outlier laps due to yellow flag and safety car conditions. It's not important here.
Lando had the edge on Charles almost the entire race. Until the end on the old hards.
What is important is that Lando had the pace on the new hards. Charles didn’t have the time to catch Lando once he managed to gain the places. He probably would have without the yellow flags and if track placement was better. The point being that Ferrari’s pace was off this weekend but it wasn’t as bad as it looked on track, there were other factors at play.
I think this result was a combination of a sub-optimal setup for this track on Ferrari's part on top of the fact this wasn't Ferrari’s strongest track, and Mclaren getting things right for Lando. Also some fairly solid driving from Lando.
Now I want to compare Charles' and Carlos' fastest laps and pace. This was the biggest gap in performance we've seen so far this year between the two Ferraris. Some of that I will attribute to the fact this track was weird as far as track surface goes, but such a big difference between teammates like this means it wasn't just the car or the track surface. While both were not great with grip or setup this weekend one outperformed the other by a decent margin.
Here is a look at Charles' and Carlos' fastest laps.
Charles having better straight line speed consistently and putting in a strong sector three is what put him ahead of Carlos and kept him there for the entire race.
Now here is the full race pace.
Again remember to ignore the weird lines in the middle that is just the graphing tool not able to create a good slope for all the safety car laps.
But you can see that Charles' pace was better the entire race, on both the medium and the hard tyres.
I don't think there was a lot more to get out of this weekend for Ferrari. It's possible managing the pits a little differently would have gotten Charles up to third but with the yellow flag chaos It was really difficult to gauge in real time when the best time to pit was. I think the pit management was good. We can look back and go "oh we could have gained a place here" So I have no issues there.
Hopefully that clears up some questions about Ferrari's overall race and car performance this weekend.
Overall this was still decent points for the constructors’ and we saw some good racing from Charles. I do fully believe we will be seeing Ferrari come back stronger in Miami.
Mclaren
Why was Mclaren, specifically Lando, so strong this weekend?
Well it's unclear.
They have had the clear #3 car so far this season. So I think that it's a combination of this not being a strong track for Ferrari and some conditions that favored their car that put them ahead.
No one, not even Mclaren expected this so I really think it seems like it comes down to this track being better for them than expected and Lando specifically being tuned into the track. Like after practice Lando was not feeling confident(his words) and the team were also not making any promises. I don’t think they were sandbagging, I think this genuinely all came together for them.
Now it’s clear that Lando would have finished P3 behind Checo if it were not for the luck/strategy(a little of both they timed that well, but also had to get lucky with Red Bull timing) with the pits. Red Bull lost track position to Lando when they pitted Checo and they were unable to take it back. If Red Bull had timed their stop better Lando would have been P3 because his pace was not going to catch Checo if he was ahead.
So the P2 is due to some good driving on Lando’s part and Red Bull giving up track position and failing to recover it.
Oscar struggled more on this track. However he wasn't far outside where we've seen him in other races and for Mclaren in general. So he wasn’t under-performing, Lando was over performing. I also want to note that Oscar was slightly damaged during the crash between Lance and Dani, Dani's front wing tapped the rear of his car and there may have been a small amount of damage, important to note as he may have been compromised on pace due to this.
Data Analysis
Comparison of Lando and Checo’s pace
The first half of the race isn’t as important, the graph is very odd in the middle due to all of the outlier laps caused by the yellow flags, so that is not important. What I want to point out is that Lando was on the same pace as Checo(or slightly better) for those first 6 laps after the race started again when all the yellow flags were done, but after that Checo was faster until the end of the race. Not enough to catch Lando, but enough that Lando would not have been able to pass him if he hadn’t had track position.
Now here is a quick look at Lando and Oscar's pace.
There isn't a ton to dissect here, Lando was faster the entire race, by a pretty big margin on the hards especially. Given that a lot of drivers this race had issues managing deg on the hards I think that second stint gap really came down to tyre management, an area where Oscar is still improving.
Here is a look at their fastest laps to really see where Lando was making those bigger gains and where Oscar was struggling.
One thing that I find interesting is that Oscar's fastest lap had a section of DRS, Lando's didn't and Lando was still a full second faster. Just a really solid lap from Lando all around. His strength in sector 2 is what really gave him an edge all race.
Overall this was Mclaren’s best finish, but their strongest weekend overall so far this season is still Australia(because both drivers had a strong finish not just one)
Penalties and Incidents
Welcome to the “everyone gets a penalty!” section of the analysis. This was a mess to unravel. After reviewing the footage and reading the stewards judgements as well as the driver and teams statements I have come to a lot of the same conclusions as the stewards.
The middle of this race was a mess. One yellow flag had just ended before another had to be brought out again.
There were two yellow flags this race, the first after Valtteri DNF'ed and the second due to multiple incidents right after the end of the first yellow flag.
My biggest critique is that the VSC was deployed weirdly late. They seemed about 10 to 20 seconds off in calling for one, and that is concerning. A driver on the side of the track is at risk, so it’s important to make sure a race is slowed immediately.
Logan: overtook under safety car conditions after the VSC was enacted when Valtteri’s power unit failed. Nico was coming out of the pitlane as Logan was coming down the straight, Nico managed to barely exit in front of Logan, but Logan’s faster momentum into turn 1 put him ahead of Nico, and thus he overtook under a yellow flag. Time penalty and license points is an appropriate penalty. I have no idea why his team didn’t get him to slow down more. They said they missed Nico, which I really don't know how. Lack of track observation. This was a failure of the team as much as it was sloppy on Logan's part. I think he would have slowed more had the team actually noticed this sooner.
Kevin: Kevin made contact with Yuki going out of turn 6 right after the race restart. He broke late and made contact with Yuki’s rear wheel and this led to a tyre puncture. Yuki had to retire from the race. Kevin was clearly at fault here, he failed to brake when catching Yuki.
Daniel: Dani was penalized for overtaking under a yellow flag and a safety car. He did this deliberately because Nico took a place from him and he thought it was okay to take that spot back. However he should have waited for the race to resume under green light conditions before doing that. He knows better. What happened with Nico is a little murky as far as why he took a position and why he did not get penalized. I think it's because it was right before the safety car but the FIA reporting on that isn't clear.
Lance: At turn 14 Lance rear ended Daniel after the first safety car had ended they were waiting on Max to restart the race. Max was leading the race and setting the pace until proper racing speeds could resume. Lance is at fault here, it’s that simple. This was seriously negligent driving on his part. I really have no idea what he was doing but no competent driver does this. I will agree with Oscar in the sentiment that everyone was crowded together, only one person crashed into another car in that scenario.
“Yes, but not everyone decided to crash into each other.” - Oscar
Lance argued that it was the concertina effect, and said the stewards should account for that. This is a weak argument at best. The concertina effect is to describe car behavior on track, it isn’t an excuse. Going into a corner a driver who is supposedly one of the best in the world should know how to account for that effect. The fact is that he was going too fast into that corner and not paying attention to the car in front of him.
Furthermore his lack of accountability and attempts to blame everyone but himself for the incident is not a good look. He is very clearly in the wrong here. I think that the penalty he received might be on the gentle side of things as well. Personally I would have liked to see a 20 second time penalty for that, or a grid penalty.
I agree with Dani’s statement that Lance should have only been paying attention to the car in front of him. He clearly wasn’t doing that, or at least not well enough. He appears to be looking at Max and Oscar waiting for Max to restart the race. But that is not where he should have been looking. Additionally Dani pointed out that Lance’s speed there was too much, he put half his car under Dani, that’s not the concertina effect, that is going too fast.
Dani of course is heated, and I feel that for him, he DNF'ed because of the carelessness of another driver through no real fault of his own. I don’t think continuing to argue is good on either side, but he has every right to be mad, especially when the offending driver refuses to admit his fault. Two DNFs in a row is hard for any driver. Lance really cost him a lot.
This isn’t just sloppy driving on Lance’s part, it's outright negligent.
VCARB
Quick note about VCARB. Dani was on track for his best performance all year this weekend. Which makes the DNF all the more upsetting. Yuki struggled with this track all weekend, seems he was not feeling this track or that car. I will say his performance seems like an anomaly compared with the rest of his season so far so I don’t think it’s cause for concern for future races.
VCARB as a team were obviously the worst off this weekend with both driver’s DNF'ing at no fault of their own.
Aston Martin
I already covered Lance, so I want to just quickly mention that Fernando was on fire this weekend. He was defending, and had that car in places it really had no business being. His recovery from the close spin, the defending, the overtakes. He really is just continuing to show his skill and experience, and he overall had one of the best drives of the entire race.
Red Bull
Max won the race, and it was a pretty clean race for him, which is amusing due to the utter chaos happening behind him. First time he has won at this track, so that is another track conquered by Max. Well done Max!
Sergio
Checo’s race wasn’t actually that bad. He was comfortably in P2 until Red Bull gave up track position and he wasn’t able to recover the place from Lando. I already compared the pace between those two. But I think it’s pretty clear that he would have been P2 were it not for the pits. If he has position he has the pace to keep the spot. However he does not have the same pace Max has in the RB20 to take lost positions back if the car ahead has similar pace.
I also want to note here that there were a few corners where it was pointed out that Alpine and Williams were outperforming Ferrari on. However taking a look at the data it wasn’t just Ferrari. Pierre was literally faster than Max in that corner consistently. What this tells me is that something about the unusual grip of this track was not suited to any of the fastest cars. So it’s not a Ferrari problem, or a Red Bull problem, it’s just highlighting an unusual quirk of the track that no one really figured out this weekend.
Here is a fastest lap comparison of Pierre and Max. Obviously Max is the best driver in the best car, so I think this just highlights my point about certain corners especially turns 1, 2, and 3. There was something off there that gave the edge to some midfield cars are far as grip goes. All top cars struggled for speed on those turns and I think it was due to weird track surface conditions.
Final Thoughts
This was the most chaotic race of the season. Hopefully we have a penalty free race next time.
See you when I return with Miami GP analysis!
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Oh my god, the reverse robbed post is finally dying down. I might actually get my sideblog back soon.
#reverse robbed#once again. I love everyone in this bar.#my table just got very VERY crowded. and I was not expecting that.#edit:#getting in front of this train but no one panic about me deleting it/shutting down reblogs. k?#it makes too many people happy for me to stop it just bc I’m mildly put out by not being able to find a goddamn thing anymore. 😂#also. complaining is half the fun.
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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.
Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.
He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.
"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.
He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?
Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.
He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.
Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.
Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.
Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.
Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.
"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."
Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."
Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"
Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.
"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."
"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."
"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.
Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."
"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.
"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.
"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."
They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.
"Working on new music?"
Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.
"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"
Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."
"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."
He grimaces. "That's a low bar."
"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.
"Shut-up."
"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."
"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"
"No, not at all. Just curious."
"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"
"Gossip," Eddie frowns.
"Anyone else you got your eye on?"
"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.
"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.
Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"
Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."
"Are you lonely?"
"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."
"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.
"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"
"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"
"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.
"The one that got away?"
"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."
Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"
"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"
"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."
Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.
"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."
"Wait, Steve--"
"See you around."
He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.
Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.
"Eddie, I don't--"
"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."
"What?"
"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."
"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?
"God, since 1986, at least."
Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.
"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"
"You're mine too," the words tumble out.
"What?"
"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."
"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"
"Pathetic gay yearning and all."
Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.
Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.
Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."
"It's been a decade!"
"Fuck," Eddie cackles.
They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.
"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.
Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"
"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."
"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"
Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."
Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#oneshot#angst#friends to lovers#angst with a happy ending#idiots in love#mutual pining#famous eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#regular guy steve harrington#pathetic gay yearning#fluff#the one that got away#second chances#getting together
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hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart
✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]
summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)
pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader
tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3
When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old.
The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme.
Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.
You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.
“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”
“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”
He most definitely hadn’t.
“What the hell— I brought booze!”
“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question.
Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.
“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.
You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”
Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.
Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.
The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.
“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”
You swat his chest with a less than kind hand.
“Ow!”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”
“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.
You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.
“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.
The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”
“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.
“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”
“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.
“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.
“Oh… Okay…”
“What’s yours?”
You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”
“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.
“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.
Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.
You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.
“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.
“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”
“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”
“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.
The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.
The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.
“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time.
You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”
A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”
His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Right,” you nod.
Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.
“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”
“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.
Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls.
Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s.
“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”
“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.
You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.
“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.
You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”
The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.
“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”
“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”
Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.
“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”
Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”
You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”
“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”
“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”
He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment.
“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.
“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”
“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”
Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”
The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”
“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.”
Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”
“Yeah…” you echo.
“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you.
He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.
You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile.
“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”
The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”
He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind.
Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”
if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (ꈍᴗꈍ)
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#eddie and maeve
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The Code
Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all.
Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex
A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.
6.2k words
Masterlist
This must be the spot.
You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees.
Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time.
A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too.
“Hey, you leave me a note?”
He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you.
“Yeah, you OK?”
He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth.
“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.”
“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.”
He laughs, tipping his head back.
“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!”
Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing?
You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun.
After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain.
“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?”
“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up.
“So, you got something for me?”
Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.
Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe.
“For you? Of course.”
He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand.
“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?”
He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length.
“Twenty?”
Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes.
“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”
You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.
“Such a gentleman.”
Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him.
“Here, twenty.”
He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile.
“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?”
“Sure, why not.”
You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand.
“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.”
“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls.
“So, you're new? When did you start?”
“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue.
“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.”
“Oh really? What did you do?”
You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits.
“What didn't I do?”
He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad.
You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush.
The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move.
“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?”
He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second.
“Huh?”
“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?”
He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you.
Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him.
“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away.
“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table.
Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little.
“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.”
“Yeah?”
It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness.
His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips.
“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.”
Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips.
Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit.
Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones.
The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more.
It's only then that he notices the time on his watch.
Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole.
“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.”
Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't.
“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.”
You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing.
“Do you wanna come to mine later?”
It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord.
“Are you- for real?”
You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned.
“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.”
“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.”
“Swear? On what?”
“On, I dunno, on that code thing?”
He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go.
“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!”
“Alright then, scouts honour?”
“You were a girl scout?”
“No.”
He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign.
“I swear on Ozzy.”
Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab.
“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.”
You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it.
“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…”
Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that.
“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.”
You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party.
********************
He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit.
In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense.
Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door.
You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers.
“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised.
“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house.
“And your last name is…?”
“Henderson.”
“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip.
“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him.
“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.
“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-”
You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock.
“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??”
“The one and only, sweetheart.”
“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.”
“Well, I'm a lot of things.”
Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano.
“Dustins gonna kill me.”
Eddie shakes his head.
“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?”
“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.”
Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second.
“If you want me to go-”
“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-”
“Wait, you seriously don't care?”
“Nope. You're too hot.”
Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer.
“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing.
“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you.
Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing.
“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.”
You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer.
“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?”
Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.”
Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up.
“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?”
You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor.
As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy.
“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.”
All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy.
He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing.
You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm.
Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell.
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you.
He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there.
This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation.
It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on.
Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on.
He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth.
“Please, please, please-”
The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside.
Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb.
Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm.
He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other.
He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him.
His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone.
“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips.
“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine.
“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe.
He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life.
“Fuck, you are a dream.”
His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word.
“Bedroom?”
“Jesus fucking Christ yes.”
He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste.
In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem.
Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers.
“Woah, baby, you don't need to-”
“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.”
Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants.
You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar.
Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging.
His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten.
“Fuck stop stop, please.”
He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb.
“You OK there champ?”
“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.”
He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties.
Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed.
Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die.
You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down.
“No. Leave them on.”
It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you.
He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God.
“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour.
“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it.
In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours.
“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.”
His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important.
“Do you have protection?”
“I'm on the pill, is that-”
It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard.
Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty.
“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.”
The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth.
Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach.
“Holy- oh God, Eddie!”
Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise.
“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?”
Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end.
The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed.
Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer.
Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine.
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”
It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.
“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth.
“Please cum in me.”
Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water.
“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?”
Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can.
“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.”
You laugh, kissing his cheek.
“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.”
“I can take care of you-”
“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?”
You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room.
Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up.
“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out.
“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.”
Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence.
Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in.
You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin.
“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.”
Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o.
“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.”
Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home.
Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back.
“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours.
“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back.
“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.”
“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-”
“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!”
You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately.
“Then stay. Stay with me.”
Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth.
“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!”
Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other.
For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care.
********************
Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers.
Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss.
He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do.
So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge.
That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye.
Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled.
“Eddie… did you… break into my house?”
Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty.
“Sup, Dust Buster!”
Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!”
“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-”
“Until you were in my fucking house???”
“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.”
‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!”
“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.”
“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!”
Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it.
“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.”
“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to.
“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?”
The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play.
“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?”
Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!”
“so, what now, Dungeon Master?”
“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.”
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400 years | Azriel
summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.
words: 3.2k
warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description
notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍
masterlist
Thud.
The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either.
But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel.
The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks.
“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”
Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles.
That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries.
“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.
Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.
It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites.
Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.
You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy.
The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.
It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.
“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes.
“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about?
“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”
The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.
“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”
Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room.
The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic.
Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.
“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands.
Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.
“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”
“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.
“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.
Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…
You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–
“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up.
“Is that Rhysand?!”
At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you.
The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord.
You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics.
“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!”
The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.
And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….
“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.
The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look.
“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.
His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.
“Oh, please.”
The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.
“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”
Nothing?
From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.
“What? Like you can do better?”
Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.
One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours.
He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.
“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.”
The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa.
No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating.
You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement.
He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…
You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield.
His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours.
“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.
You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”
With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks.
“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away.
With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled.
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…
You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you.
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him.
Let me be your muse.
His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…
Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking.
The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing.
A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother.
The reality?
Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him.
Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.
Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment.
You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers.
You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.
It made it annoyingly hard to focus.
The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped.
“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his.
Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”
400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes.
“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist.
That is a very long time.
Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl.
“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before.
It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong?
You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.”
Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat.
Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye.
The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes.
It took your breath away.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.
You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head.
His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet.
“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.”
That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face.
“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.
His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.
That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.
There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you.
So dangerously close.
He was your friend.
Right?
“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.”
You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.
“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.
“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”
You froze.
The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.
Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth.
Azriel loved you?
Azriel loved you.
The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his.
The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage.
He was everywhere.
The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible.
You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air.
You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest.
“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness.
He swallowed, “It is.”
“So is mine,” you revealed.
“Yes, I can hear it.”
Oh.
“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out.
Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his.
This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.
Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.
This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.
It was claiming.
And so you let him claim you.
Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.
A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.
Want to be added to my taglist?
tags: @missus-shadowsinger
#acotar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#a court of thorns and roses#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine
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📂Op men + sitting on their lap.
Featuring: Zoro & Ace, GN!reader
Warning: Suggestive, established relationship
Note: I got carried away😭
Zoro
The bar you walked in was crowded with people and your eyes searched for the figures of your crew and your grumpy boyfriend. You had left to verify something on the ship, but as you expected the crowded bar had little place now for you to sit and enjoy the night too.
You walked around and found your green haired man chatting with the crew and drinking down a bottle of sake. You stopped behind him and softly flicked the back of his head earning a groan from him as he slightly turned in your direction.
-Oh you’re back, I was almost gonna go after you.
He said with a light smile. You smiled back and rolled your eyes at him.
-Yeah sure and you would’ve gotten lost the moment you would’ve stepped outside of this place.
-I’m not that bad with direction.
-Yes you are that bad, that’s not even out to debate.
Nami retorted in your défense with an annoyed look.
-Agree.
Sanji followed after exhaling a cloud of smoke.
-How about you stay out of this ero-cook?
Zoro growled as he leaned his body over the table and gave Sanji an annoyed glare.
-He’s right though baby.
You chuckled as you put your hands on his shoulders to calm his tension.
-Oi, Y/n !
Luffy screamed out your name in excitement in between two bites. You looked over your captain and furrowed your eyebrows waiting for him to say something.
-Why are you standing up? Everyone else is sat!
-Oh, well the bar is pretty packed. There isn’t any chair left…
-it’s okay, come sit on my lap.
-huh?!
You replied shocked. Zoro was never the type to introduce PDA and you were sure it wasn’t the alcohol that was affecting him. Your heart fluttered at the idea of him growing comfortable enough with you and your relationship to be more affectionate with you in public. It was a small gesture but coming from him, you felt warm just at the idea of sitting on his lap.
He didn’t let you have much time to think about it as he took your hand and pulled your body near him to grab your waist and dragged you on his lap. You blushed as you looked up at him and he simply smirked back. You looked away a bit shy and fixed your position on his lap, making sure it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for him.
-Since when do you have the courage like this to pull me into your laps in public, you teased him under your breath so only he could hear.
He emptied what was left in his bottle and looked back at you.
-Was I supposed to let my pretty lover stood up, wouldn’t be very manly of me.
-Yeah it wouldn’t be..
You nodded as you stole a bite of his food while ignoring how his nickname gave you butterflies. He shifted slightly under you to grab another bottle on the table, pressing his large chest on your arm. His hot breath brushing your neck and a secretive low grunt leaving his lips.
You didn’t know if it was because it has been a moment since you two had sex or if your hormones were simply higher that night, but you felt your body getting hot. You grabbed a glass of water on the table and changed your position to face the table. His hands immediately grabbed your hips and he pushed them forward.
-Are you trying to make my dick hard or what. Don’t move like that without telling me, he said annoyed.
As much as his actions were turning you on, the idea of making him hard and then have him fuck you stupid, didn’t even cross your mind…well until he directly asked you.
You looked over your shoulder with now a mischievous look and smiled at him.
-I wasn’t, but now the idea doesn’t sound so bad.
-Y/n…
-What~ little fun won’t kill you.
You said while pushing your hips a little bit against his bulge. You tried to be as discreet as you could be, but Usopp was catching up on what was happening and was giving you two a dirty glare.
Zoro wasn’t going to fold so easily so he just pushed your body to sit on only one of his lap.
-Now, be good and I will see what I can do for you later.
If only he knew he was in for a long night.
Ace
You sigh as you knock on the door of the infamous commander who stole your heart. You barely saw him all day as a mission was approaching and he was looking through everything, making sure the plan would go well.
He quickly showed up at dinner to grab his food, gave you a kiss on your forehead and ran to meet White-beard who had asked for him and few others commanders. You knew it wasn’t his type to barely eat, so you decided to check up on him and grab some food for him before the kitchen closes.
-Who is it ?
You hear his muffled voice filled with exhaustion.
-It’s me, I brought you some food.
-Come in
You open the door and see your boyfriend’s face lying on top of a pile of papers, tired eyes and a weak smile.
-My saver is here, he speaks in a small voice as he sees the big bag of food you brought. You chuckle as you walk closer to him and pat his dark wavy hair.
-I was worried seeing you barely eat today.
-Im so exhausted, It’s like my brain is going to explode from all the information pops has been feeding me.
-He trusts you with those, so I imagine it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time.
-Yeah, but Marco has been helping me a lot, along with the others, so we are making it a little lighter for each other, he says with a tired chuckle as he pulls your body into his laps. He tucks his head in the crook of your neck and let a tired sigh as he closes his eyes.
-Finish your work quickly so you can go to sleep. You are about to fall unconscious on those papers, you whisper softly as you caress his hair.
-Mmmm don’t want toooo, he mumbles childishly against your neck making you giggle.
-Aceee, quickest you finish, quickest you’re free , my love.
He leans back into his chair and stares right into your eyes. They glitter as he looks at you, giving away that he’s planning something.
-I will if you keep me company, he retorts with a huge grin.
You furrow your eyebrows and nod, not seeing anything wrong with it. You haven’t spent much time with him anyway, so that seemed like a good idea. You are about to stand up to go lay on his bed, when his large arms firmly keep you in place.
-But you have to stay on my laps. I want you close to me.
-Ace, you know you’re not gonna get any work done with me on your laps.
-Why not
-Because we both know how that ended up last time, you roll your eyes and squint them at him as you put your hands on his chest to free yourself. He softly put them away and leave a quick kiss on your lips.
-Maybe that’s the type of work I wanna do, he replies with a smirk.
-Suddenly, you don’t seem so tired.
You tease him with a smile while wrapping your arms around his neck. You gently press your lips against his and you feel his warm hands grip your hips as he kisses you back. You pull away to catch your breath and watch his eyes stare at you with nothing but lust.
-Oh shit, the food! you suddenly remember.
-It’s gonna be our aftercare snack, he announces as he picks you up and put you on his bed.
Yeah, he passed out right after y’all were done :/
He ate the food though when he woke up in the morning :D
#one piece#portgas d ace#portgas ace x you#portgas ace smut#ace one piece#one piece x y/n#one piece x reader#roanoa zoro#zoro imagine#zoro fluff#zoro smut#zoro headcanons#one piece zoro
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An evening of laughter over dinner. The young lady sits at the table with a couple, sharing wine and stories. Ever since the pair had moved back into the city, she had quickly grown very close to her friend and her new husband. From the first time she saw them together, the single girl thought they were a perfect couple. She watches them share a kiss with a pang of jealousy and another emotion her inexperienced soul can’t quite describe yet.
A week later the girl rides the train home after a terrible date. The woman had no romantic intentions and was only interested in selling health supplements. Already exhausted, she opens her dating app to see a hundred shirtless men holding fish. She closes it again with a frustrated grunt. The girl arrives at her station and starts to make her way through the crowd.
Up ahead, in the throng of people, she spots her newlywed friend. Her heart jumps, and she pushes through the mob to try and get close to her. I can’t wait to tell her about my horrible date. Maybe she’ll want to hear about it over dinner again. That unfamiliar feeling returns. Getting closer, her friend steps out of the human traffic, standing with a man she doesn’t recognize. The girl is only a few metres away, but invisible among the other passengers.
She watches her friend pull the strange man in for a kiss.
Disbelieving her own eyes, the girl freezes. Even as annoyed people bump into her, she watches, mouth agape as the married woman makes out with the stranger.
What am I seeing. I must be crazy. She wouldn’t cheat on him, they’re both perfect… for each other. I must have this person mistaken for my friend.
The kiss breaks and the woman laughs. A laugh as unique as a fingerprint. The girl sees every detail of her smile.
Oh god, it is her. Why me? What am I going to do?
She returns to her empty apartment, feeling strangely heartbroken. Her husband is an amazing man, doesn’t he deserve to know? Is it none of my business? How could she do this? The next few days are torment. Wracked with guilt from her involuntary secret, she decides to take the unenviable step of telling him about his wife’s infidelity. I have to. It would hurt him more if I didn’t tell him. And it would help her in the end. That unfamiliar feeling cracks through her fear.
Arriving at the couple’s home, the girl feels like she’s going to have a heart attack. Welcoming her in, the married man makes her a cup of tea. The girl is obviously distraught, and he tries his best to calm her down so she can talk. A word salad spills from her mouth, and she starts to cry as she explains what she saw. The man’s face falls as the girl becomes more overwrought. She finishes her story, looking at his soft, compassionate expression.
“I am so sorry that you saw that. I can see how upsetting this is to you. We were always worried that something like this would happen. I’m sorry it was you.”
The girl stops crying, disoriented by his response. She expected him to be angry, or sad, or devastated. But his only concern is for her. He doesn’t seem hurt in the slightest. The man brings her some tissues and encourages her to drink her tea. Sitting down beside her on the couch, he gently starts to explain.
“When we first started dating, we were seeing other people, too. It kind of just… never stopped. We felt comfortable with it, and we knew we wanted to be with each other… It’s changed a lot over the years. When we became official, we would give each other passes, for a date or a night of fun. Always equal. We agree on a pass, we each hook up with someone, and then we come back together. I know it’s unusual, but it works for us.”
The girl is bewildered by his explanation. He continues:
“When we got married, we knew it would change again. We both want to settle down, find a different way for us to do stuff like this without chasing random people. Actually, this pass is supposed to be the last time... Like that at least. I’m so sorry that you got so upset by what we’re doing. You’re a good friend, I know you care about both of us so much. I can see how that would terrify you.”
Her head swims, she stares at the wall. The adrenaline of her mission has worn off, replaced by confusion and embarrassment. He calls his wife and asks her to come home early, so they can explain everything together. A half hour later, she rushes through the door and envelops the young girl in a big hug. The couple holds hands while they answer her questions. The girl relaxes. Her heart warms when she sees them kiss, confirmation of their love.
Feeling as if she has intruded enough, she gets ready to leave. Excusing herself to the bathroom before she goes, the girl sits on the toilet pondering the night’s conversation.
Out of all the possible outcomes, this is the best I could have hoped for. She washes her hands. The best I could realistically hope for. The girl is confused by her own line of thinking. Anything better would be impossible. She dries her hands. What else could I wish for? The girl stares at herself in the mirror, that strange new feeling wells up inside of her, stronger than ever before.
Leaving the bathroom, she finds her friend waiting for her.
“Thank you for being so understanding… I know it’s a lot. I know you came here because you wanted what was best for us, even though it was scary. I admire that. He admires that. You’re a good friend.”
“Thanks, I’m sorry I got so far up in your business… Good luck now that you’re through the ‘giving out passes’ phase. I hope whatever you two do together brings you closer together.”
“Oh, well, we’re not quite done with the pass thing yet.” She subtly points into the living room. “He hasn’t used his pass yet.”
“Ah, well, if I see him with a girl I won’t come crying to you. Haha.”
“Haha, yeah. I mean he could use it with whoever he wanted to. That’s how it works.”
“Right, you explained that earlier.”
An awkward pause drags through the conversation.
“Do you want to stay for dinner tonight?”
“I feel like I already overstayed my welcome.”
“You haven’t. I feel like we should make it up to you.”
“Uh, maybe? I don’t know.”
“I want you to fuck my husband.”
The conversation screeches to a halt. The girl stares at her friend, dumbfounded. They start to talk over one another. You don’t think I’ve been trying to sleep with him, do you? No, I just thought you might like to try it. I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble. It’s no trouble. Wouldn’t it be weird? I don’t think so. Does he even want to? He’s brought it up before. Isn’t that weird? I brought it up first. I’m wearing ugly underwear. I could let you borrow something.
“I’m afraid it would feel like cheating.”
“I could watch, to support you. So you know it’s okay.”
The young lady’s heart almost leaps from her chest. Why did that convince me? At a loss for words, she nods her head.
Standing naked in the couple’s bedroom, she paws through her friend’s clothing. A mixture of fear and excitement whirs though her mind. Taking out a tiny pink thong, she slips it on and steps in front of the mirror. Her familiar emotions mix with the unfamiliar ones. Why does it feel so hot, wearing her lingerie?
A knock at the door, her friend enters. “You look beautiful.” The young girl blushes unexpectedly at the compliment. “My husband will love you. Are you ready?” Another emotion, another nod, more confident this time. She summons her husband.
He gives her a kind smile as he walks into the room. A loving peck on his partner’s cheek, and the man steps towards the new girl. His arms wrap around her waist and their lips touch. They surprise each other with a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues flirt, their noses rub, their hands roam. His kisses work down her cheek, and into her neck. The girl gasps and looks over to his wife. Relief and joy as she sees her gorgeous smile. His wife’s lips move, whispering. Keep going.
Eager to please them, she reaches down to feel his cock bulge in his pants. The man groans and returns the favour, grasping her wet pussy through the skimpy thong. They touch each other, faster and faster, kissing open and free. She unzips his pants and starts to stroke his cock. He lifts up his shirt so she can see him. His body looks better than I ever imagined.
Dropping to her knees, she takes him in her mouth. The faint taste of his precum overpowers her senses. Fingering herself wildly through her friend’s tiny underwear, the girl does everything she can to make him feel good. Glancing over at his wife, she sees her rubbing her bare pussy. She’s lifted up her dress to touch her breasts, too. Her body looks better than I ever imagined.
The trio are thoroughly excited. Nobody can wait for what comes next. He lifts the girl up and tosses her onto the bed. She spreads her legs and pulls the thong to the side. The husband pushes her legs up against her chest. “Oh god, it looks so good.” The wife chimes from her spot in the corner. He rubs his hard cock against her exposed pussy. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
The tip, the head, half way, all the way. There’s no going back now. The married man’s cock stretches out the single girl’s pussy, and they exhale. Enjoying the warmth of his wife’s friend’s body, he starts to stroke his cock in and out of her. The girl trembles, getting used to his size. The wife gasps, rubbing her clit as fast as she can. They fuck each other, making out while the tension releases. The girl is overwhelmed by pleasure and excitement. She starts to encourage her friend.
“Your husband’s cock is so big! Ah~! It’s so good! Ah~! So big… Ah~! Your husband is fucking me so… Ah~! Good!”
“You like that, you dirty little slut?”
“Yes, I love it.”
The couple on the bed roll over. The girl takes his hands and puts them on her ass. A firm grip, and he pulls on her bumcheeks. So he can get deeper. So she can see every inch enter her. She bounces on his dick, thrilled at the thought of how little her friend’s thong is hiding. She feels her orgasm build inside of her. Quickening her pace, the girl will finish soon.
The sounds of a woman cumming fill the room. The couple look over at the wife, helplessly masturbating as she fingers herself to completion. They look back to each other, grinning. “Now it’s my turn…” The girl giggles, playing with her clit while his strong hands pull her up and down on his cock. They kiss passionately again. The girl cums on his married dick, picking up where his wife left off. Pushed over the edge by their chorus, he fills her sweet pussy.
They lie there for what could be an hour, could be a few minutes. The girl slowly climbs off of him, and walks past his wife, also basking in the glow of her orgasm. She heads down the hall, back to the bathroom, to wash up after their encounter. Looking at herself in the mirror again, her unfamiliar feelings beat in her chest. An epiphany strikes her. Like a ray of light through the clouds, she understands herself.
Stepping back into the hallway, his wife is waiting for her again.
“I really, really, enjoyed that… I hope you did, too.”
“It was almost perfect.”
The girl walks up to her. She wraps her hands around her waist. Their lips meet, they kiss. They push back into each other, letting the taste of their first embrace waft through them.
Their fingers touch. Holding hands, tugging lightly, they walk each other back to the bedroom.
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Under the eyes of the seven
summary: after years of leaving King's Landing, you go back to fight for your brothers inheritance, but the tense energy grows stronger when you meet you uncle again. So what will happen when your mother Rhaenyra betrothes you to him?
word count: 3606
warnings: nsfw, violence, family hating family, hot uncles, vaginal, handjob, oral, making out, grinding, vaemond getting k!lled
Aemond Targaryen x niece!fem!reader
The ride to King’s Landing felt like months passed after you left Dragon Stone, the voyage across the sea and then the never ending ride through the land. But finally you arrived with your family, the heir to the iron throne herself princess Rhaenyra, your stepfather prince Daemon, your brother Jacaerys, your other brother Lucerys and your brothers Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon. Being the only and eldest daughter of princess Rhaenyra made you heir to the throne as well, which was a huge responsibility and one of the reasons why you were back in King’s Landing, at the very castle you grew up in. Your feelings were two faced, one the one hand you were happy to be back, on the other you dreaded having to see your uncle’s again and not to mention you step grandmother queen Alicent.
As the two carriages stopped inside the courtyard it was awfully deserted and quiet, not something you expected as usually someone from your family’s station should be greeted by the king and queen themselves. The doors of the carriage opened and your brother Jace helped you down the steps, a few feet away your mother and prince Daemon exited their carriage as well. Your brothers followed you and your mother was greeted by Lord Caswell, whom you then followed inside. Since your mother and Daemon were to talk to the queen you decided to join your brothers Jace and Luke in the training courtyard.
Following them down the steps in your beautiful red dress detailed with gold accents and flowers you realized it wasn’t very suited to walk around the sandy courtyard in but you decided it didn’t matter. Walking after Jace and Luke to the, what seemed to be training weapons, you decided to only spectate today. You weren’t shy of a certain amount of training yourself but you were too tired from the long journey you just made. You glanced around the courtyard and saw two men training with a group of people around them but stayed with your brothers anyway. Then you noticed your brother Luke’s uncomfortable expression. “Luke what’s wrong?” You asked him, a little concerned. “Everyone is looking at us.” He expressed, noticing the eyes of people around you three. Jace seemed to be occupied with the weapons table and just laughed. “Who cares what they think.” Jace said while picking up a training sword. “Jace is right, why would we care what they think?” You said while putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder assuringly. “Easy for you to say, you actually look like a Targaryen.” Luke scoffed, removing your hand from his shoulder. “That doesn’t matter, I know you want to look differently, but you shouldn’t give them the satisfaction.” You assured, but your conversation got cut off when there were cheers erupting from the crowd behind you. Jace and you couldn’t help but be curious who were dueling so you dragged Luke with you to witness the clearly exciting event.
As you pushed yourself through the crowd the image before you became clearer and a certain one eyed uncle came into view, you looked nervously at Jace next to you, knowing if he were to challenge one of your brothers now, he would probably end them. And then it happened, Aemond stopped in his tracks as he noticed you and your brothers. “Look who we have there, my niece and my nephews.” He said as his eyes fixated on your form, not even batting an eye at Jace and Luke. Heat creeped on your skin as you took in his tall and mature figure, he had grown into a man over the years, that much was clear. Just as you were about to say something, the gate opened and the members of house Velaryon arrived. The courtyard fell into silence as the intimidating portrait of Vaemond Velaryon came into view, followed by princess Rhaenys and princess Baela. You gave Baela a soft smile which she returned, the last time you saw her was at her mothers funeral, you felt horrible for her and comforted her and Rhaena through the service.
House Velaryon passed by and headed inside to prepare for the petition of Lucerys’ right to Driftmark. You couldn’t decide how to feel about it all, you were certain your grandfather the king would surely back him but after hearing about his health decline you weren’t so certain anymore. You pushed this thought back when you saw your uncle walk up to you. “Uncle, how good to see you again.” You faked a smile, growing up you had a hard time getting along and you were not sure how to feel about your relationship with him after these years. “Niece, you’ve... matured I see, are you here to watch me train?” Aemond boasted, a slight smirk on his lips. “No, I just wanted to see what the commotion was about, that��s all.” You scoffed, it seemed that his ego and cockiness had only grown stronger. His hair was now long, his left eye, or rather scar, now covered by an eye patch. His tall figure towered over you as he held his hand on the sword stuck in the ground. “I see, well tell your brother I wish him luck today, he does not seem to have many people on his side.” Aemond taunted, evidently trying to get a rise out of you. “We’ll see, uncle.” You exclaimed, and with that you sped out of the courtyard, once inside the tall and impressive castle halls, you tried to get his deep husky voice out of your mind. Some time passed as people were slowly starting to gather in the throne room, preparing for the petition to come. In truth you were starting to get nervous, if Luke was claimed to be unsuited to inherit Driftmark, was your and Jace’s inheritance put to question as well? You tried to stop thinking about it but it was quite hard as the petition grew closer.
When it was finally time, the hand was sat on the iron throne, with the queen and your uncles and aunt at her side. You stood to the front right, next to Daemon and Jace. Vaemond expressed his opinions on the matter and after some time it was your mothers turn to state her petition. But just as she started, the doors opened and King Viserys came into view, slowly but surely making his way to the throne. Luke was saved after all. The king struggled but managed to sit on his throne once more anyway and expressed his confusion on the matter, after Rhaenys had her say, the matter was settled and Luke remains heir to Driftmark. But Vaemond’s disgusted look told you shit was about to go down. “You may decide to rule your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine.” Vaemond hissed as he now almost trembled with anger. He went on. “Her children are BASTARDS!” He screamed, now he really had everyone's attention as gaspes could be heard across the room. “I will have your tongue for that.” The king sneered. But just as you were about to look at Daemon, he had disappeared from your side and before you could process the scene in front of you, Vaemond's head was cut off and rolled onto the floor, and blood painted the stone under his feet. Daemon was about to be disarmed and escorted away but he wiped the blood of his sword and left himself. And you couldn’t help but look at Aemond, an admired expression on his face. His eyes locked with yours and you couldn’t help but show a tiny smile, which he returned. The room was quickly cleared after and you were escorted back to your quarters.
As the sun was setting, your handmaidens were dressing you for supper, by the king's request, he wanted to eat with the entire family one last time because he knew his time was near. Your handmaiden Alyssa was tightening the beautiful blue gown, with long flowy sleeves and pearls on the bodice, the corset and thick skirt of the dress accentuating your beautiful figure. Your second handmaiden Marina finished up your hair, two braids being braided to the back of your head and being braided back as one. Lastly Alyssa handed you your gold earrings to put in and Marina clasped a matching gold necklace around you. You added your favorite two gold rings on your fingers as well and headed over with your family to supper, where your step grandmother, aunt and your two uncles were already seated. A chair was pulled out next to Aemond and the guard waited for you to sit down. Feeling like you had no say in this you sat down and kept your mouth shut. Surprisingly the queen spoke to you. “What a beautiful dress granddaughter, an extraordinary color.” She smiled, the compliment took you by surprise but you thanked her anyway. When it was time for the king to be brought in everyone rose and he was put down between your mother and the queen. The king then gave a speech on how he wishes for things to be peaceful between you all and how it seemed it was time for celebration as your two brothers were now betrothed to your cousins Baela and Rhaena.
But then your mother rose and said she wished to speak. “I have another announcement to make, after the petition today, the queen and I have come to an agreement to bind our blood. So I offered to betroth my eldest daughter (Y/n) to her son Aemond so we may become stronger together again.” At your mothers words your mouth opened slightly not believing what you were hearing, you looked at her in disbelief and her lips formed a tight line as if silently saying ‘do not oppose this’. You glanced at Aemond who looked in disbelief himself and averted your gaze to your grandfather who seemed very pleased with this. “Very good, this is how we should be. Binded by blood and stronger together.” King Viserys smiled, but as he sat back down he heaved and coughed and Alicent commanded he be taken back to his quarters to rest. Just as the king was leaving, a big platter of what appeared to be roasted pig was brought in, and at the sight of this you looked at Jace and Luke unable to keep the smirk off your face remembering years ago the prank you played on your now betrothed. Aemond caught this and stood up, slamming his hands on the table and grabbing his cup of wine. “I would like to toast to the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”
About two seconds went by before he dared say the last word. “Strong.” He ended. “Aemond.” His mother, the queen, warned. “Come, let us drain our cups to these three... strong boys.” He challenged. You looked at Jace who was about to snap. “I dare you say that again.” Jace sneered, fed up with Aemond’s words. “Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?” Aemond continued. Jace had enough, stood up and stormed up to him, punching Aemond right in his jaw. He pushed Jace to the ground and smirked at you, you stood up with fury and smacked him as hard as you could across his face, leaving his cheek red as you stormed out of the room.
Once in the halls you raised your skirt slightly to be able to run to the only quiet place you knew in the castle. You thought you could hear someone following you but in your upset state you paid it no mind. As you descended several stairs you ended up in the dungeons near a bedchamber you used to escape to as a child. You opened its door and hurried inside, your face still hot with anger, and your heart pounding. Was this really the man you had to marry? This vile, cocky asshole? You couldn’t believe it. As you removed your jewelry the door creaked open and you turned to face the very man himself. You couldn’t believe he had followed you here. “What do you want? To throw more insults?” You sneered at him. “Don’t be like that dear niece, I was just messing around. No need to get all upset about it.” He prodded while stepping a bit closer to you. “So what do you want?” You huffed taking a step back and sitting down on the old creaky bed. “To talk about our... union, I suppose.” Aemond sighed clearly not too content about it himself. “If it were up to me there wouldn’t be a union.” You spoke and looked at him, you couldn’t help but take in his broader shoulders and his tainted face. Though even though tainted still handsome, no you thought, this man is horrible you won’t think about him this way, you refuse. “I understand, however, it seems to me like we don’t have a choice. We’re going to have to put up with each other.” He continued, now taking a few steps towards you and a slight smile on his face as he observed you, taking in your figure. “I will not put up with your insults against my family, I don’t talk about your family that way do I? Because don’t get me started on your disgusting brother.” You warned, which earned you a disappointed look from him. “So you deny it then?” He certainly seemed to want to continue to taunt you with the rumors of your family.
“Hold your tongue.” You snapped now standing up, right in front of him, looking up in his, well, eye. “Now now, no need for threats.” He smirked. “It’s not very nice to talk to your uncle that way now is it?” He said, now very close to you. If someone were to walk in, it would be a suggestive sight. “Why? Why must you taunt me this way? Do you really hate me that much?” You asked him, you tried to control your emotions but he was a little too good at getting a rise out of you. “I hate your pretentious family, if that's what you mean.” He looked at you, his lips still forming a slight smirk on his face, it almost seemed as if he wanted you to slap him again. “You fucking vile disgusting asshole!” You snapped, finally he got what he wanted. You smacked his face again but before you could move your hand away he gripped your wrist tightly. “Those are not very kind words niece, someone ought to teach you a lesson.” He grunted, he gripped your wrist tighter and pulled you against him, causing your left hand to be on his chest. “What are you doing?” You asked him, now a bit scared as to what he might do, knowing you are completely alone and no one could hear you. “Teaching you a lesson.” He almost whispered, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. You wanted to push him off, you really did but as if you had no control over your body your lips started moving against his, moving your hands to his face instead. The kiss got more heated as he put his hands on your waist, pressing you tightly against him. With your bodies so close together you could feel something hard pressing against your lower stomach. He moved his lips feverishly against you and let his tongue swipe against your lower lip. You moaned at the feeling allowing him to slip his tongue inside, which you welcomed almost instantly and moving your own tongue against his. He let out a loud groan and squeezed your ass against him. “Fuck, move on the bed right now.” He ordered, and who were you to disobey your prince?
You crawled back on the bed, laying down as Aemond climbed on top of you. He wasted no time in getting his lips on yours again, his right hand holding your cheek. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lowered your body against yours, specifically his lower body. Again you felt something hard pressing against you. “Wai- wait Aemond, something is pressing against me.” You breathed out, having never been with a man before this entire situation was new to you. “That would be... me, love.” He whispered in your ear, a blush spread across your face, realizing what he meant. Then he started grinding against you, unable to help himself he groaned in your ear. “Fuck this is so wrong, but you just can’t help it can you niece, so hot for your uncle, fuck I bet you’ve never even seen a cock before.” He grunted in your ear, still grinding against you hard. At his words you could feel yourself dripping with arousal, you wanted more, needed more, only you didn’t know what you wanted more of. “Please uncle, please do something.” You pleaded in his ear. “Want me to make you feel good princess? Want me to make you cum?” He teased now back against your lips giving you a kiss before starting to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, down to your chest. He ordered you to sit up and he undid your dress hastily, almost ripping it due to his want for you. He removed your dress and shoes and your undergarments as well. He kissed you once more before moving his lips towards your thighs, giving small bites and licks and even sucking a couple of love bites on them as well. Finally he reached your throbbing core and licked a long stripe against your slit, causing a guttural moan to leave your lips. “Please my prince please I need more.” You begged, his tongue now lapping against your clit making you beg and beg for more. He started moving his tongue faster, occasionally putting his tongue inside your hole before sucking on your clit and entering a finger inside you, to prepare you for his hard cock.
When you seemed accustomed to his finger he curled it a bit and started moving it right against that spongy spot that makes you see stars. The movements on his fingers, in combination with his tongue lapping on your clit you came hard, screaming his name, feeling your juices leak all over his fingers and the bedsheets. “Seven hells that was…so good.” You gasped, trying to calm down from your high. Aemond smirked at your words and removed his shirt, along with his boots and pants. Wanting nothing more than to finally be inside you. “Are you going to be good and take my cock princess?” He uttered while climbing back on top of you. “Yes, yes please I’ll be good uncle, I’ll be so good for you.” You moaned as you felt the tip of his cock against your clit. He grabbed his dick by the base and moved the head slowly against your soaked slit. “Fuck you feel so good, such a good girl.” He groaned against your lips. You almost screamed as his tip entered you, a mixture of pain and pleasure overcoming you. As he bottomed out he stayed still for a bit to let you adjust and stretch around his hard cock.
“Are you okay?” He decided to ask, he wanted nothing more to just fuck you dumb already but wanted you to feel good as well. “Yes I think so.” You mumbled, a light layer of sweat on your skin, your hair now messy and sprawled on the pillows, such a beautiful sight. After you spoke he started to slowly move, moaning at the feeling of your tight cunt around him. You gripped his back harshly with your nails causing him to let out a loud groan, after a moment or so he started moving faster, not being able to hold himself back anymore. “Fuck please, please fuck me harder uncle!” You moaned loudly as he now started to really slam his hips against yours. The sounds of your moans and his filling the room as well as the slapping of your skin together, this only made you more aroused. He moved out of you for a second before flipping you over to your stomach, then he grabbed a pillow and moved it under your hips to raise your ass for him slightly.
He then inserted his cock back inside you and started fucking you rough. His balls pounding against your ass as he fucked you harshly over the pillow. “Oh fuck! Please uncle! Please fill me! Please!” You screamed begging him to cum inside you. “Such a good girl, already such a slut for me.” He grunted in your ear, feeling himself getting closer to his release. He moved his hand between you and the pillow and moved his fingers over your clit, matching the speed with his pounding hips. You moaned and begged louder until you finally came hard, your walls contracting around him. “Fuck yes, oh fuck that’s it.” Aemond moaned your tight cunt causing him to fill you up to the rim with his cum. He gave a final three thrusts to milk himself dry and moved off of you, laying by your side. You moved off the pillow and crawled in his arms. “Are you still upset about becoming my wife?” He asked you with a smile on his lips. “No I am definitely not.” You smiled back, as he held you tightly in his arms.
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I hope you liked my first Aemond fic, let me know who I should write for next and if there are things I should change. xx
#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond x reader#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x fem reader smut#aemond targaryen x reader smut#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd#house of the dragon
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the blind date - rafe cameron
summary: your friends set you and rafe up on a blind date, but it doesn't go quite as you'd expected.
words: 1.7k
a/n: based on this request ♡♡ the way this has me giggling and kicking my feet in the air - ahhhh!
“Alright lemme make sure I have this straight: unlimited access to your jet skis for the rest of the summer, your season tickets to the first two Panthers home games, and two cases of whatever beer I want?” Rafe confirmed, looking over to the driver’s seat at his friend Dylan who huffed in reply and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Yes, dude, that’s what we agreed on. Christ, it’s a blind date, not a death sentence. I swear to God if Maddie didn’t put me up to this, I would’ve left your ass to wallow at home alone.”
“I’m doing you a favor” Rafe replied, “It’s the least you could do.”
“I’m telling you she’s hot, you know you might actually be into her, did you even consider that?”
Rafe looked at him completely perplexed. “What makes you think I’m even looking for a girl? I do just fine as it is, thank you very much, plus you and I have very different tastes.” A pause. “Can I please see her insta?”
“We’ve been over this. No. Maddie said it would defeat the purpose of the ‘blind’ part of a blind date.”
“So fucking stupid” Rafe said as he shook his head and looked out the passenger side window.
You had gotten to the restaurant early; your best friend Maddie wanted to make sure every little thing was perfect and she was practically bubbling over with excited energy at the prospect of your blind date.
“This is going to be amazing, I just know it!!!” she said enthusiastically. “He is so your type, I will be at your wedding, babes, I swear it! Ahhh!” She had pulled you into the bathroom and was fluffing up your hair, touching up your lip gloss and tugging at your dress.
“So happy you went with this one, like yes you will thank me later, you look so damn hot.”
For all her flustered energy, you appreciated her hype and as you looked in the mirror you kinda had to agree with her. She had helped with your hair and makeup and the result was truly stunning; you had just the right amount of makeup on to make your natural beauty pop. Your dress was a little more revealing than you were used to, but it did make you feel confident and who knows, the way she talked about this guy, maybe it would all work out?
“Okay, okay, enough fussing, I’m already nervous enough. Can we please get a drink? I need a drink” you said, moving to walk out of the bathroom as she checked her own appearance in the mirror one last time before following you.
“Yes, good idea, you go loosen up, I’m going to make sure they got us that table by the window.”
You sidled up to the bar and leaned your arms on it, happy to have a moment’s reprieve from Maddie’s frenetic energy as you looked around in an attempt to distract yourself. The restaurant was really cute, coastal and modern and there was a sizable crowd between the bar and dining area. The steady thump of tropical house music played softly in the background which calmed your nerves and lifted your mood.
Within moments the bartender spotted you and made his way over. He was just about to greet you when he glanced over your shoulder. “Rafe! What’s up!” he said enthusiastically. “So sorry m’am, just one moment” he apologized as he clapped hands with the tall stranger that had walked up beside you. “What can I get you, bro?”
Rafe was smiling at the bartender and glanced at you briefly when he realized you’d been snubbed. It was a quick glance but he did a double take before he could control himself. You were… simply perfect. Your face held an expression of amusement and surprise with a clear smile that rested on perfectly glossed lips. You had an effortless air about you like you woke up every morning looking that good and then immediately every part of him wanted to know what you’d really look like in the morning… in his bed… at Tanneyhill… the sun reaching through the blinds…
What the fuck is the matter with me? he thought suddenly. And then, Fuck. Was I staring?
The bartender was looking at him expectantly with an eyebrow raised. He asked me something. Drink. A drink. What do I want to drink?
“Yeah man, I’ll have a bourbon, neat, and uh, whatever she wants” he replied, nodding his head towards you.
You smirked at him before glancing at the bartender, “Spicy margarita please, and since he’s paying, I’ll take it with Patrón.”
“Oof” Rafe said, grabbing his chest with his hand like you’d delivered a physical blow to him, “Way to take advantage.”
You laughed and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe in coincidences, and it just so happens I need some liquid courage. If a handsome stranger is offering, I’m taking top shelf.”
Rafe pursed his lips and nodded, trying to tamp down the feeling in his heart that you'd called him handsome. He glanced back towards the door to see if he could see Dylan and couldn’t find him. Good he thought, allowing himself to feel guilty for half a second until he refocused on the sight of you in front of him.
He cleared his throat. “So, uh, liquid courage?” he asked.
“I’m meeting a date here actually” you said, shaking your head, your blushed cheeks turning slightly rosier. “It’s a whole thing…” you trailed off, waving your hand dismissively.
Rafe couldn’t reason with himself why he felt so angry that you were here for someone else. Thankfully the drinks arrived which gave him a moment to process as he watched you take a deep sip of your drink.
‘What asshole doesn’t pick a girl up and take her on the date himself?’ he thought. Well, he thought he thought before he realized he’d said it out loud as you nearly choked on your drink in laughter.
You shook your head again, smiling and laughing “It’s not like that, it’s –”
“—Nah, I’m sorry, it’s not my business, I shouldn’t have said that” he interrupted, mortified that he'd let that slip.
“You’re fine” you reassured him. “It was sweet. It’s nice to know there are still decent men out there willing to keep things chivalrous.”
I would’ve picked you up he thought.
On time.
Walked to your front door.
Flowers in hand.
His head was spinning. What the fuck is going on with me. He looked down at his drink and then drank it in one swig. When he set the glass down, he caught your look of amusement as he coughed.
“You good?” you asked, giggling.
He grimaced, “I will be” he said, holding up his empty to signal the bartender for another.
“Is my company that bad?” you joked.
His eyes darted to yours, “Quite the opposite, sweetheart” he said in a low voice that you felt from your beating heart to your fingertips to your belly and shaky knees. Shit you thought as you registered the effect this man had on you.
You blushed and met his warm gaze, realizing for the first time how deeply blue his eyes were, like sapphires. The two of you stood there, an arms-length away and it was like time stood still. You could feel your pulse in your throat, feel your body tingling like it was physically reacting to his proximity. Was he stepping closer to you or were you imagining it? His eyes left yours for only an instant to look at your lips and in that moment he had you hook line and sinker.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed on the bar in front of you and you jumped. He took an imperceptible step back, clearing his throat.
“S-sorry” you mumbled, quickly swiping open a text from Maddie: ‘Where r u?!!!!”
Shit.
“I-I’ve got to…” you waved your phone by way of excuse and nodded your head towards the tables, literally unable to string a sentence together at this point.
“Yeah, no problem” Rafe said, as casually as he could muster as you moved to leave. “Try to have a good time. And, hey” he said, capturing your attention one more time “Tell this guy he better give you a ride next time, okay? None of this high school ‘I’ll meet you there’ shit, okay?”
You laughed at your little inside joke and met his gaze one more time before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
Rafe’s next drink arrived and he slammed it back instantly before settling the tab, leaving a hefty cash tip and making his way towards the dining room.
Dylan fucking owes me he thought through gritted teeth, grimacing all the way through the crowded room, replaying your smile, the way you'd looked at him through thick eyelashes, even the way you’d smelled: like vanilla and coconut.
He was clenching and unclenching his fists as he searched the crowd, willing this godawful date to be over before it had even started. Finally he caught a glimpse of Maddie’s bright hair and Dylan’s frame at a table by the window; he moved to shift around several people when his eyes met yours, seated next to Maddie, across from an empty seat.
“Oh my god” you said, covering your mouth with your hand, stifling a fit of laughter and joy when you caught his eye.
He began to laugh too, the tension in his body immediately dissipating as he rubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe away the goofy grin he felt there as he took his seat.
“What is going on, do you two know each other, what am I missing?” Maddie demanded.
“Nothing, it’s nothing, Mads” you said, giggling as your eyes danced and twinkled at Rafe.
She narrowed her eyes as they darted between the two of you. “Okaayyyyy, well YN, this is Rafe!”
“So, so nice to meet you” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though you were thrilled to actually know his name.
“The pleasure is truly mine, sweetheart” he played back, a knowing smile resting on his lips that had you bursting at the seams as you two ogled each other.
Maddie and Dylan looked at you both like you were crazy as you just stared and giggled at one another before they gave up and settled back into their own conversation and you and Rafe picked up your menus.
“Tomorrow at 7:00” Rafe said just quietly enough for you to hear him as he pretended to eye the menu.
“What?” you whispered in reply.
“Be ready tomorrow at 7:00. I’m taking you out. And I’ll be picking you up this time” he said as he shot you a smirk over his menu.
taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron x you#obx rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#obx fanfiction#rafe fanfiction
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delayed proposal
MASTERLIST
Summary: in which Harry’s got a few secrets up his sleeve and Y/N just wants to know if he’s going to propose
Author’s Note: this is the blurb i was talking about with bandmates!harry x y/n. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3
Word Count: 1.1k
•••
“Are you going to propose soon?” Was the last question Harry expected to be uttered out of Y/N’s bright pink lips.
It was just another Sunday night, the couple trying to enjoy those last fleeting moments of weekend relaxation before Monday arrived with the usual burden and obligations of being working adults.
In little less than 12 hours, Y/N would be back to her 9-5 job being an assistant to a high-class executive of a finance company. Her boss had too much authority for being so irresponsible and more money than anyone would need in a lifetime. What a luxury it must be to have your dad pass down a company you didn’t know how to run down to you.
Her boss wasn’t a horrible person, he was quite respectful and kind when asking her to do tasks, he was just a very exploitative executive. He had learned from his father to be unbending and demanding.
Y/N’s work paid a good wage, enough for her to pay her bills and still have a bit left. She wasn’t one to buy luxuries, though, preferring to save money up so she could one day quit her 9-5. And then dedicate herself to the things she did every day after work: picked up her red electric guitar, adorned a black skirt that bordered on too short, and perform for (currently small) crowds of people who cheered her band on as they played.
There wasn’t anything Y/N loved quite as much as the rush of being on stage, the bass making the stage shake with each loud thrum, sticks clashing with plates of a drum and the velvet voice of an angel, Harry singing through the microphone and his eyes on her and her fingers moving over the fret of the guitar.
They played small clubs and rundown bars, getting payed a poor wage for the extrenous effort used to get four adults with full time jobs to align their schedules in order to rehearse. Sometimes all they got were free drinks, but they took what they could get and did it for the love of it.
That was how they got here, on Harry’s couch, his arm draped around her shoulders, and her head on his chest. They were watching Bluey, the way they did most nights they spent together. He would always roll his eyes when Y/N suggested it, pretending to hate it, but she knew it was his favorite show, and he always cried at the emotional episodes.
Their instruments lay forgotten on the table, his blue guitar next to her red one, as they’d spent most of the afternoon drinking beer and writing a new song.
It was a question that had been lingering in the back of Y/N’s mind, and she wasn’t quite sure why she chose that moment to blurt it out, but she did. “Are you going to propose soon?”
Harry’s gaze turned to her, eyebrows raised in light surprise, a small breath exhaled between his lips in a faint chuckle. “What?”
It was too late to take it back, so Y/N sat up and told him, “You’ve always talked about wanting to settle down and get married.” His features remained in small confusion. “We’ve been together for a while. Are you going to marry me?”
“Well, of course I’m going to marry you,” Harry said, like it were some scientific fact that everyone knew and was unchangeable. “You’re my forever, baby. I’ve written about a hundred songs about it.” His lips turned up in a smile. That smile he wore every time he told her he loved her, with a cocky and smug edge as if he were teasing her, laced with affection.
“I don’t mean we have to get married this instant, but I just, I guess we’ve never talked about if we were getting engaged or when and I-“
“Baby,” Harry cut off her nervous rambling, chuckling. He kissed her, soft lips with cracked edges from the cold and dry weather. “I already know what ring I’m going to buy. I’m just saving up for it.”
Y/N’s mind blanked for a moment. “You’re already thinking about rings?” Her lips parted in surprise.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, silly girl. You’re not the only one thinking about marriage.” He smiled at her, reassuring her that he was just teasing. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”
“Oh,” Y/N said, still in shock. Here she was, getting all nervous and insecure about marriage and he had already been planning to propose. Her question now seemed a bit foolish. She looked up at him and said, “You know I don’t need some needlessly expensive ring, right? You could buy it on Aliexpress and I couldn’t care less.”
Harry looked at her with slight amusement. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Y/N said with a small nod. “It’s stupid to spend money on a ring when it doesn’t make much of a difference.”
Harry sighed. “Baby, it’s not about the ring being expensive. It’s about the ring being a symbol for my devotion to you. And I want my devotion to be apparent in the beauty of it.” He tapped the finger on her left hand where the ring would lay. “No, I don’t have to spend money on an expensive ring. That’s why I’m not just getting a huge diamond. I’m getting something you’ll love.”
“But it’s expensive and it’s a waste of money on a simple ring-“
“Is it just a ring? Or is it a symbol of matrimony, of us being together forever?” Harry said gently, correcting her statement. “Not to mention you’re going to be wearing that ring every day ‘till you die.”
Y/N made a sound of contradiction. “Unless we get a divorce.”
Harry stared at her blankly for a few moments. He deadpanned, “Not funny.”
“Kinda funny,” Y/N said with a small smile.
She waited for Harry’s stern gaze to soften with adoration the way it always did. It only took a few moments for his composure to crumble and he leaned in close to her. His nose grazed against hers as he muttered quietly, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
The way he said it sounded like a declaration of love. Everything he said to her did. Because his love could never be called in to doubt. It shone through every word he uttered, every song he wrote, every thing he did.
His lips locked onto hers once again, the tension in his muscles melting away as if all he needed to feel complete was to be pressed against her. To have every inch of skin surrounding her, the taste of beer still on her tongue, and the scent of spring enveloping his senses.
“I’m going to marry you,” Harry uttered, an oath murmured against her lips before placing a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her close once again.
#harrystyles#fanfic#fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles writing#rockstar!harry x y/n#rockstar!y/n#rockstar!harry#bandmates!harryxyn#bandmates!harry x yn#bandmates#female oc#harry styles x female reader#oc#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#blurb#harry edward styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry fic#harry#harry styles x femoc#harry styles x yn#harry styles x fem!reader
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
masterlist playlist
Part 2: The Hideout
You follow Robin over the resort property line to a place where guests are forbidden and get a glimpse of what goes on behind the scenes.
word count: 3.6k
My blog is 18+ONLY, mature themes, violence, alcohol consumption, eventual smut, fighting, mention of blood, reader is called Bird as a nickname, reader plays the cello. Reader is 21, Eddie is late 20's.
Songs for this chapter:
Animal (fuck like a beast)//W.A.S.P.
No one like you//Scorpions
Mental Health (bang your head)//Quiet Riot
Wasted Years//Iron Maiden
a/n: it has been so much fun to pull this out of the rubble and jump back into this world for a rewrite, I hope you enjoy. To my I'm on Fire peeps, there will be a scene in this chapter that feels very similar to something that happened in IOF, and that's because I originally stole it from this fic, thinking I'd never post it, lmao. Thought about changing it, but it's just too perfect. Plus, there will always be a hint of biker Eddie in all of my Eddies.
Sticking close behind Robin, you crossed the arc of a walking bridge over a creek and disappeared on a worn path through the trees. It was only then that you could finally make out the building where the loud music was coming from.
It had corrugated metal sides and roof, like a structure you might see on a farm that housed large equipment. There was a picnic table out front where a few people were seated, and the shell of a vintage automobile with bullet holes in it sat in the weeds.
A little more than a city block away was a modest cabin made from actual logs with an old truck, a van, and a motorcycle parked out front.
“Who lives there?” You nudged Robin.
She stopped to see where you were looking first, and then, “oh yeah, that’s Wayne’s place. The head maintenance guy. This is his too,” she gestured to the metal building where the music and shouts were coming from. “Both him and his nephew Eddie. Have you met Eddie?”
You absolutely knew who he was, but didn’t want to come off as a stalker, so you shook your head.
The large sliding door entrance to the building was open about a foot, letting out wafts of smoke and a hazy, golden light. From over Robin’s shoulder, you could see quite a few bodies moving around in there, and just then came the sound of a glass breaking.
“Ready?” She smiled back at you, struggling to hold everything in her arms as she reached for the handle to slide the door open the rest of the way.
“Let me?” You lurched forward.
“I got it,” she insisted, fumbling one of the guitars before catching it again with a gasp of relief.
You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting to see when she eased the door open the rest of the way, but a topless woman dancing on a table top was not one of them.
Her hair was bleached blonde, frizzy and teased around her face. She was tan with a prominent bikini line over her pert breasts, and it looked like she’d just pulled the top of her leopard print spandex dress down to give a little show.
The song Animal (Fuck like a beast) by W.A.S.P. was blaring and the guys around the table cheered while the woman flipped her hair and worked her hips in a circle. You were sure you recognized her as one of the waitresses from earlier that night.
Metalheads of all kinds were crowded together, mingling, and you feared that you stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. Some were in leather; some wore jean vests with pins and patches all over them. A handful had long hair that they must’ve tied back or wore under hats while they worked at the resort, but a few of them, like Steve, kept theirs short and tidy, for the most part. Overhead string lights swayed from high wooden beams, and a chandelier that looked like it was made out of wrenches. An old, pea green Kelvinator refrigerator and a small kitchenette was to your left, as if someone had lived there at one point, and two couches sat against the wall that were mismatched and worn.
Most of the crowd of people seemed to be lingering together in the middle, standing there as if waiting for something. Taking shots, smoking blunts, and making out with each other, blocking you from seeing beyond them.
Robin signaled to follow her, and you were hesitant to start moving through the masses, holding the guitar case flush to your body, feeling like it was something to hide behind. You noticed posters on the walls for bands like Judas Priest and Metallica, and on the concrete floor you saw smudges from white chalk markings, dark splotches the color of dried blood, but that was ridiculous.
You pushed between a girl with a blue mohawk and a guy with a shaved head that was covered in tattoos in a hurry to keep up with your escort, and the two shot you a hard glare. When you could finally see the far wall, there was an oval, threadbare carpet in the corner with a drum kit set up, three microphones, two amps, and some other equipment that suggested live music would soon be happening.
“This is where they practice!” Robin shouted over the music, directing you where to put Eddie guitar down. “We call it The Hideout.”
“'Where who practices?’ You set Eddie’s baby near the wall where she told you to.
“Eddie and Chrissy’s band,” she motioned for you to stand over at the wall with her.
“Oh,” you turned to look at the instruments again, heart flopping a little at the idea he would show up at any moment. “They're playing tonight?”
There was a commotion up ahead and you both turned to look. "Later maybe! The fights are tonight,” again, yelling over the growl of the music. Now the song was No One Like You by Scorpions, and it sounded like people were cheering at someone who’d just come through the door.
“Fights?” You leaned in to get more information when everyone started pushing back to make room for whatever was about to happen. You remembered that one of the guys on the porch earlier that day with Chrissy and Steve had a black eye, and you’d noticed another worker at the resort who had a busted lip, but you hadn’t paused to think that maybe they were somehow connected.
It was then that you saw Eddie appear from out of the sea of bodies, and took a sharp intake of breath, holding it in, afraid to let it out for fear you might whimper.
He was so beautiful, it made you dizzy. You stood up straight, adjusting yourself, covertly checking to make sure you weren’t perspiring too badly.
He was wearing the tux he’d had on for the show earlier, but the tie and cummerbund were both gone, and his white shirt was unbuttoned almost to his stomach. You caught a glimpse of tattoos on his chest, and a necklace of some sort. Someone handed him a beer and he threw back a generous gulp.
“There’s going to be boxing? Here? Tonight?” You were trying to act casual and not stare at him the whole time, but it was hard to tear your attention away.
“Nothing professional,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest, putting her shoulder blades against the wall. “Just your average bare knuckle street fighting, basically. The guys were doing it to blow off steam, but then some others got involved and people started placing bets, so a whole thing started.”
Eddie unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and took it off, passing it to someone in the crowd. Your mouth went dry at the sight of his lean muscles under the scattered ink. He kept his hair tied back and started wrapping white tape around one of his hands while Steve said something in his ear.
“How do they choose who fights who?” You were invested now, wringing Robin out for any information she had.
“I don’t know how they figure it out, but the new guys usually fight each other, and then a winner challenges Eddie or Steve or Alex,” she pushed off the wall to get a better look at the center of the room. “But it looks like Eddie is up first.” And then with a smirk she added, “all of the new hotshots at the resort think they can beat Eddie.”
“Can they?” Your voice cracked, eyes locked on the scene. A guy shorter than Eddie but muscular in a football player type of way, was also shirtless in the circle now, with taped hands and wearing a pair of sweats with the name of a university down the leg. The guy was hopping from foot to foot to keep himself hyped up, punching the air in front of him.
“No one beats Eddie,” there was pride in her voice. “Looks like the guy he’s fighting tonight is Lance, one of the new ski instructors. Totally full of himself.”
Steve was wearing a white wife beater and jeans, and he raked a hand through his mop of hair just before pointing in your direction. Eddie’s gaze followed the line of his finger directly to your stunned face, and then it lingered there.
He seemed to contemplate, wetting his lips, and then he nodded to Steve and was on his way over.
He didn’t have to push people out of the way because they were all quick to part to make room for him. It wasn’t long before he was standing right in front of you. You tried not to let your gaze linger on the full curve of his slightly chapped lips, or the way his wavy bangs framed his cherrywood eyes. On closer inspection, you could see that the necklace he wore was a ball chain with a guitar pick hanging from it.
Robin opened her mouth to say something, possibly introduce you, but Eddie cut her off.
“What the hell are you doing here, Princess?” His voice was low with an edge of irritation. He pulled the chunky metal rings off his fingers one by one as he spoke.
Robin cleared her throat, stepping forward. “She’s with me,” she stuttered a bit nervously, knowing full well she shouldn’t have brought you there. “She came with me, she’s cool.”
Eddie collected all of the rings in his fist and kept staring at you as if he wanted to hear it from your mouth, not Robin’s.
Your brain short-circuited for a second and you forgot how to form words when he was so close you could see the detail of the dragon tattoo on his chest. But then, finally, it came to you:
“I-I carried your baby.”
The second it slipped out, you knew how stupid it sounded.
Unblinking, he gave his rings to Robin, and then he was gone.
You stared at the space where he no longer stood, flushed with embarrassment.
“I carried your baby?” You repeated in a whisper, covering your face with your hands.
Someone turned the music down so that Steve’s voice could be heard, and he waved his arms in the air to get everyone’s attention.
“I don’t have to explain the rules to you, because there are none,” his announcement was met with screams and cheers. Robin tugged at your arm, signaling for the two of you to get a bit closer to the action. “First one to hit the ground for whatever reason is the loser. Just fists, no blades or other stupid tricks.”
At one side of the circle of bodies, Lance the ski instructor was practicing some tight punches, and at the other end, Eddie rolled his neck while Chrissy finished taping the knuckles of his other hand. It was then that the chalk and the stains on the concrete you saw earlier made sense.
“You two ready?” Steve put his arm up between them, waiting for their nods, and then, at their signal, he chopped his hand down between them as if he were slicing the air.
Lance was hopping from foot to foot, trying his best to look like some fancy footwork he saw in a Rocky movie, while Eddie walked casually, giving the guy a hooded, bored stare.
Eddie could read Lance like a book. A fight was a lot more than just a mindless throwing of hands, there was a mental prowess and skill needed that a lot of the punks busing in from suburbia did not have. Street smarts was one thing, and Eddie surely had that, but he’d been fighting bullies off since he was a kid, and Wayne taught him to fight like it was a game of chess.
Eddie could tell where Lance was going to go a second before he made the move. He saw the guy was amped up, letting his emotions fight for him, and that was only one of his first mistakes.
Lance charged at him and swung, but Eddie was already steps away; relaxed and agile, holding his guard up. The ski instructor came at him aggressively, again and again, until Eddie pushed him, making his opponent stumble back.
Keeping his form, Eddie caught you standing there out of the corner of his eye.
…what were you doing there at the Hideout?
He let himself ponder that question for too long and Lance was on him again, aiming a left jab to his ribs, and Eddie absorbed the blow with a grunt, arching to the side.
You were not supposed to be there. What was Robin thinking?
Mostly, Brenner and Joyce stayed out of their business, as long as whatever they did was off resort property, but if they found out one of the guests was somehow involved, there would be hell to pay.
Lance charged again and Eddie dodged, angry at himself for not being able to focus .
“C’mon Lance, stomp that freak,” someone yelled from the crowd.
And that was all it took
For Eddie to get tired of dragging it out for betting purposes.
Lance charged forward with a cry and Eddie socked an uppercut into his unsuspecting jaw.
The surfer boy went down
Hard.
Saliva and blood flew from his mouth as he flailed back, arms going ragdoll.
It felt like it happened in slow motion but soon enough, Lance was splayed out like a starfish on the concrete floor.
“Goodnight sweet prince,” Steve said sarcastically as he collected bets over the ski instructor’s limp body.
Robin cheered with her hands over her head, and you gave a few slow claps, your brain barely able to register where you were or what you were seeing.
“You want a beer?” She asked as you watched Lance numbly get to his feet with the help of two friends and attempt to shake it off.
Robin motioned for you to follow her around to the refrigerator which was stocked from top to bottom with nothing but beer cans. She handed you one and then went to lean against the side of the appliance, cracking open the tab with a hiss.
With your back to the crowd, you prepared to follow suit, listening to Steve introduce two more fighters.
But then there was someone at your side,
“Not like that,” a voice said.
Eddie had come up behind you, wearing his white shirt unbuttoned, skin still glistening with sweat. Mental Health (Bang Your Head) by Quiet Riot came over the speakers, eliciting a wave of yelps and screams from the group.
“Wait,” he put his hand on top of yours to keep you from opening your beer while he motioned for another guy to toss him one. You turned to seek comfort or guidance from Robin, but she was absorbed in conversation with a girl in a platinum pixie cut who’d just walked up.
“Like this,” he brushed his bangs to the side, and winked as he fished a ring of keys out of his pocket. He used the serrated metal edge of one to punch a hole at the bottom of the can.
It was the wink that made your skin flush hot, and then your jaw went slack as you watched him wrap his lips around the newly made hole in the can. He made eye contact with you one more time before tipping his head back, and cracking the tab of the beer open with his thumb so that the liquid when squirting down his throat.
The muscles in his throat jerked as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.
It wasn’t three seconds before he lowered his head and crushed the can in his hand to show it was empty. He let out a refreshing, “ahhhh,” and darted his tongue out to lick a droplet from his chin.
You were still holding your unopened beer, waiting for him, mouth dry. “I-I’m not sure I—”
Yes, you knew what shotgunning a beer was, you’d seen it done plenty of times at college parties and in movies, but had never been tempted to try it yourself.
Ignoring your hesitation, Eddie motioned with the crook of his finger for you to come closer. You shuffled to be within reach of him as if your knees were locked in place.
With a gentle touch, fingers brushing yours, he took your beer from you, wiped it off with his shirt, and then proceeded to make the same hole with his key in the aluminum. Some of the beer sprayed up and misted your face.
“Here we go,” he tipped your chin with his finger and butterflies swarmed in your stomach as his eyes searched yours. “Just let it shoot into the back of your throat.”
You swallowed nervously to make sure your throat was working, and then wrapped your lips around the can at his instruction.
“Easy, just like that, hold it there,” Eddie was so close now that your elbow was touching his bare chest. He put a hand on the back of your head. “When I say, tip your head back all the way, and I’ll flip the tab for you.”
You swiped your tongue over the hole in the can, thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you messed it up and beer went shooting out of your nose.
Robin offered a few words of encouragement and you noticed a tendril of hair clinging to the sweat on Eddie’s neck, right over the heartbeat in his throat.
“You ready?”
You weren’t but—-
“Okay, now.”
You closed your eyes, slammed your head back, and prayed, even though you weren’t at all religious. Some lukewarm beer leaked onto your tongue, and then Eddie pulled the tab, keeping one hand over yours to hold the can steady.
The gush of liquid hissed and exploded down your throat, and for a second you thought you would choke, but then your swallowing reflex bolted into action and it was over so fast.
You gasped and swiped beer from your chin when you pulled away to look at the empty can, amazed.
Eddie cupped his warm hand around the back of your neck, and you felt him shift closer until his mouth was at your ear.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
An actual chill ran down your spine.
Robin put up her hand and you gave you a high five. “Not bad for a first timer,” she joked. “Now crush it on your forehead and grunt.”
“Ha. Ha.”
You turned to Eddie, “that was fun maybe he should—”
You were about to say the two of you should do another one,
but he was gone.
—----
The next night, Eddie couldn’t sleep, so he decided to head to the property to finish up some work at the pool house.
The place he shared with Wayne was close enough to walk to the Hawkins Landing property, but that night, he drove. He wanted to roll the window down on the van and blast Wasted Years by Iron Maiden and belt out the lyrics.
He slipped into the parking lot for visitors and employees, turning the music down so that it wouldn’t be heard by any of the nearby cabins. There were two street lamps on, but a third one he noticed was out, and made a mental note that he’d have to get Jamie to fix it tomorrow. The sidewalks along the manicured lawn were also lined with lights that came out of the ground like little mushrooms, and the boat dock far off to his left was lit, but other than that, he was in the dark.
Grabbing his red toolbox from the passenger seat, he put a flashlight in his tool belt holster, and the van door creaked on its hinges just before it banged shut. His ribs still ached from the punch he took the night before, but he only allowed himself to cringe and curse in private. Luckily, his only companions at that moment were the crickets and the lapping of the water against the bank.
It wasn’t until he was a few yards down the sidewalk, head down, lost in thought, that the din of classical music made him halt in his tracks.
It was definitely strings, possibly a violin? No, it was too deep.
He looked up at the main house, but the sound was much too close to be coming from way up there.
He cut to the right and up the grass.
Then he saw the attic light on in cabin #11.
He told himself not to bother, but as the passion of the playing increased, curiosity got the better of him.
He came right up to your driveway, staying half obscured by a tree trunk, and watched you.
The cello, of course that’s what you were playing. He was no expert on the classics, but he’d always learned music by ear and had a unique sense for identifying instruments.
You weren’t reading from sheet music, you were just playing while you stared out at the sky.
Playing something by heart, or making it up as you went along, he wasn’t sure.
In his mind, you were so far out of league, it was criminal.
Your attention broke when a sudden movement down on the road startled you.
The bow zipped clumsily across the strings one last time, and you stood up to get closer to the open window.
But, your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you.
There was no one there.
-----
Hi hello! thank you so much for reading! For those wondering, this fic will still be centered around music, not boxing, but the little fight club they have has a lot to do with the spin of the plot soon.
thank you all so much for the suppport! we are getting to the juicy parts now! give me those hungry eyes. comments and reblogs are cherished!! like, I live for them.
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taglist: @tlclick73@micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson series#Dirty Metal Summer#Eddie Munson fic#dirty dancing au#eddie munson x reader
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Wedding Bells Underwater
Synopsis: after things have finally settled down in fontaine, wriothesley can finally fulfill the promise he made to avice and faissolle. watching their dream come true makes the duke think about his own future, one with you, he hopes.
Character: wriothesley.
Warnings: gn!reader; established relationship; spoilers for wriothesley's story quest.
A/N: i got so happy that they were included as a nice easter egg on wrio's birthday art 🥺
"...I'm sorry, you want me to do WHAT?"
"Help me organize Avice and Faissolle's wedding."
You stare dumbly at Wriothesley, the faint music coming from the gramophone the only sound in his office while you try to gather your thoughts. Has the workload finally taking its toll on him? Surely he knows that you have zero experience in organizing a wedding???
"It's nothing too complex like you're thinking. I just want you to act as a 'bridge' between the couple and me, since I have other matters regarding the Fortress and can't focus solely on them."
You make a 'ohhhh' expression, now understanding what is expected of you.
"Why didn't you say so from the very beggining?"
"Because I wanted to see what kind of face you'd make. And I must say, you never disappoint sweetheart."
Like the mature adult that you are, you decide to not say the snarky remark you thought and simply leave his office to look for the said couple.
(It's a lie, you stick out your tongue childishly and rushed out of the room before your lover considers cuffing you for disrespecting authority. Not that you would mind it that much).
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For someone who knew basically nothing about planning a wedding, you got into it pretty quickly... Maybe a bit too into it, if you were being honest.
The decorations, the location, the order of the events, the dress! Blame it on your perfectionist side, but really, after everything Avice and Faissolle went through in the Beret Society incident, they deserved a perfect wedding.
Even if it wasn't going to be a large scale event, due to all the limitations that comes with choosing the Fortress of Meropide as the venue and the couple's own wish for keeping it simple, there still was a lot of work to do. Knowing that, Wriothesley announced that those who help with the preparations would be awarded with double Credit Cupons. Suffice to say that you got all the workforce needed pretty quickly for the preparations to go smoothly.
After many meetings, headaches and shipment delays, you can now admire the results of yours, Wriothesley's and all the volunteers' hard work.
"Didn't know you had a secret talent for this. Ever considered changing careers?" The man beside you asks quietly while the bride and groom are giving their speech.
"Archons forbid! Do you have any idea how stressful that was? I have a newfound respect for professional wedding planners." You whisper back, remembering the way you basically passed out in bed the day before, all the stress and sleepless nights knocking you out.
Before he could say anything else, the spotlight shines above him and all the guests turn to look at your table.
"Your Grace, words are not enough to properly thank you for everything you've done for us. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be standing here and be able to call Avice my wife." Faissolle's words falter, him and his bride trying hard to control the tears. Wriothesley smiles at them, raising his glass in appreciation for their words.
"Of course, we can't forget the one responsable for turning our ideas into reality." The spotlight is now shining on you as well and you feel your face warming at the sudden attention. "Thank you so much for creating such an incredible wedding for us, we'll never forget this day."
Everyone raises their glasses in a toast for the newlyweds, cheers running through the crowd of guests when the couple finishes their speech.
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"...A penny for your thoughts, Your Grace? Or does it require Credit Cupons as well?"
You nudge your lover's arm to get his attention, seeing his faraway look.
"Oh yes, at least 500 Credit Cupons for such information." He chuckles when you roll your eyes. A beat of silence falls and you wait patiently for him to continue, if he wishes to do so. "I was just thinking that, in all the years I've been in the Fortress, I've never imagined I'd one day have it decorated for a wedding, of all things."
Wriothesley's eyes run along the tables of guests, the other former members of the Beret Society and others who became friends with Faissolle and Avice, all smiling happily and having a good time. A peculiar sight to see when you remember this merry ceremony is taking place inside a prison.
His attention returns to you at the feeling of your hand slipping into his, fingers entwining themselves with his easily like two puzzle pieces.
"That means all of your hard work is bearing fruit. The Fortress of Meropide can also be a place of good memories and new beginnings. The proof of that is right in front of you."
The Duke knows you must have meant the event, but, to him, his good memories and new beginning are you, always have and hopefully always will be.
Throughout the process of organizing the wedding, Wriothesley had wondered what kind of ceremony you would wish for. A big and impressive one? Or maybe a more low-key one, with just your close friends and family? What kind of attire would you like to wear? From Chioriya Boutique, of course, nothing but the best for his darling in their special day.
"Everyone! I'm going to throw the bouquet now!" The bride announces, causing a buzz among the excited guests.
"So? Should we go too?" Your boyfriend asks with a smirk and a playful glint in his eyes.
"Why not? Since we're here, we might as well have the full experience!"
There's already a crowd gathered in front of Avice when you and Wriothesley decide to join them. You both don't really mind though, choosing to stay at the back and observe the enthusiasm of others.
One could think it's funny how excited someone could be at the chance of getting the bride's bouquet, a chance of getting married in the future. Or maybe, it's not about marriage at all, but actually for the idea of having a better future after their sentence time is fulfilled.
Or maybe it's all just a projection of the Duke's own feelings about this.
...Who knew a celebration like this would make him think about things he's never considered before?
He shakes his head to clear his mind. You both weren't there to try and catch the bouquet for real, so there's no need to think too deeply about it.
Unbeknownst to him, fate had other plans.
It all happens too fast. At one moment, you watch Avice throw the flowers high into the air; at the next, you feel someone bump into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward. Thanks to Wriothesley's quick reflexes, he manages to prevent your fall by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. And then, you find yourself staring at the bouquet that had landed right into your arms.
What in the world?!
"Ohhhh they caught it!"
"Man, I wanted that bouquet..."
"Does that mean we're going to hear news about the Duke's wedding soon?!"
"It's about time for His Grace to tie the knot!"
The comments, cheers and the sheer craziness of this unexpected twist makes you laugh, both in embarrasment and disbelief.
In amidst of all the excitement around you both, Wriothesley can't help but think that that must have been Celestia's sign for him to stop wasting time and go after the bright future that awaits him.
Now, what would be the best ring to buy for his future spouse?
thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
pink wriothesley banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
#blue.writes: genshin impact#blue.writes: wriothesley#blue.writes: fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader
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hey hey heyyy saw this and thought of youuu
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT83xLH3c/
(completely sfw don't worry) but like, Imagine for one reason or another you desperately need to get married (maybe to qualify for your medieval grandpa's will) but no one wants you for whatever reason so you promptly go down to the gallows where this murderous ex Soldier was to be executed and you are just "he'll do" not aware that he comes as a package deal with his partner who didn't get caught 👀
are you. are you joking. oh my god
thinking about a woman who's got a terrible home life. i feel like either her parents want to marry her off to some guy who's like 80 or they treat her like a workhorse and are super abusive
and to her, quite literally Anything is better than the life she's stuck in. and for a woman in this time period the only real way to escape is to get married. and since no one will marry her (she's poor and everyone knows how her family is).... well there's really only one choice
she definitely proposes to soap, not ghost. the man getting dragged to the gallows is perfectly at ease - shoulders rolled back, easy smile on his lips, you would never think he's being led to his death. there's something in his over all demeanor that makes it almost easy to jump from the crowd and shout a proposal
he's excited, almost ferally so. he grabs your wrist and holds tight, doesn't let you get even a full armlength away from him. that's when you start to think maybe this was a mistake, but it's far too late now. he's also weirdly insistent about the two of you going to a very specific room in a very specific hotel (or whatever they used to be called)
you get a bit more scared every second that goes by, but you're well aware what a man expects on his wedding night - you grew up on a farm, you know how animals mate. it's scary, of course, but you know you'll have to bear it
except when you get to the room, he doesn't try and take you. you know he wants to - there's a tent in his pants that makes your face flame - and he keeps you flush against him. he sits at the table? you're in his lap. you try to go to the bathroom? he stays so close to you that you decide it's not worth the potential humiliation.
he talks your ear off the whole time - tells you how pretty you are, goes into frankly excessive detail about what he likes about every single part of you, tells you how he wants to "stuff you full", says things like "'m not so bad, kitty, know ye must be scared but i'll take care of ye, don't worry" and "just wait til he gets here, then we can get started" and no matter how much you ask who he is he refuses to tell you
he has his mouth pressed against you throat (switching between licking, biting, and talking about how he can't wait to see what's under your skirts) when the door opens, and you realize that you've truly made a mistake
the new man who walks in has to duck beneath the door frame, he's so massive. had he been the one walking to the gallows, you never, ever would have proposed. he's got to be twice the size of you, his face covered, the rest of him filthy and covered in dirt
(((if i had the energy i'd write dialogue here, but anon i am sleepy)))
soap would be soooooooo happy to present you to ghost, is literally drooling and beaming as he grabs you by the hips and hooks his chin over your shoulder, big hands stroking across your stomach and skirts as he says isn't she so pretty?
anyways. you're getting railed that night. hope you like being on the run with two criminals who have absolutely no intention of crossing over to the light side!!
(ghost fucks you first, bc soap needs to learn to be patient with his new toy, but he lets you suck his cock while he waits for his turn. when soap fucks you next, you're laying on ghost's stomach and he wipes away your pretty tears as johnny does his best to break your back. the next day johnny laughs when you're walking with a small limp, and ghost makes him apologize with his tongue <3)
#side note with old weird laws:#there's definitely smth you could do with that old rule that pregnant women didn't get executed#asks and answers#ghoap x reader#bo writes
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Sam
Sam was in his element. With friends, Steve and comfortable in the auditorium.
Refreshed from a week of sun,sand and sea. Add in off the socials grid. No random blondes in bikinis, or the gym blonde rats at the North Bondi open gym breathing the same sea air as him instantly given a nickname and assumed bumping curlies.
He shared that he had a session with the famous Bondi Beach lifeguards. He was encouraged to dive off the rocks at the South end of the beach- Bondi. He shared he had never dived in his life( sure that’s not true, just not into the Pacific Ocean) He was shown how to swim back to shore in a rip, ( that’s what drowns people not understanding how to get out of a rip). And generally living a beachside life. He joked that he didn’t sleep in the sand, he had a house (?? 👀).
Loves 🇦🇺. Not the snakes he revealed to an answer re the snakebite episode. Met all the famous animals. And shared that he felt the walk to the top of the bridge more now than when he did it eight years ago ( doubt that). Mentioned the bars he hit up and the restaurants.
A week well spent. As you all have seen he has the tan to show for it.
Two afternoons were lost to late summer thunderstorms. What did he do then?!
He answered the expected questions regarding the end of OL. He is ready to say goodbye. He has been in discussion regarding work. He wants to continue to travel after the S8 wrap.
Mentioned going to Everest and working on getting distribution in 🇦🇺 for SS. And other countries.
Shared a tidbit that when he went to the studio his “things” had been moved for a new younger cast. All tongue in cheek. Said he is looking for to BOMB.
This was a contented man. It was all easy conversation and engagement with just under 945 fans. The auditorium capacity is 945 and there were about 20 empty seats.
He did not bring up the spirits unless asked. He didn’t have a bottle on stage. That bag on the table was Steve’s- with a drink bottle in it and a place to put the discarded written questions. He was not selling his booze, he was riffing. Laughing and just being relaxed.
Asked about Caitriona ( got to say that the audience was a Sam only) and he discussed her getting prepped for directing. Said they had FT her the night before, all the guys and showed her what she was missing. He said how much they had shared and that really “ THEY WERE LIKE BROTHER AND SISTER” ✅ ✅. Crowd liked that.
He said that it will be difficult working away the final time. Very poignant. But he said he is ready.
The rest was the same questions and answers. The event organizers said there will be a USB to buy. So the rest will be there for those who will buy and then share here.
I’ve been told that on the soulless account comments have said that the guys were disheveled and looked unwashed. BULLSHIT. All their clothes were ironed( I am that woman who judges unironed clothes. Sam had ironed his T-shirt and pants. His hair was not oily. And his eau de parfum was that of a man who had showered early and had used deodorant. Those hollow jealous haters were truly reaching for something- anything.
I’m guessing that the Melbourne audience will be just as thrilled and appreciative of the chance to be in conversation with the OL lads. There is a song from one of my teenage favourite 🇦🇺 band Australian Crawl. It’s called The Boys Light Up. It’s the perfect song for the fun day yesterday. The boys did light up.
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Can you pretty please do Angel Dust and Alaster HCs sepratly for them dacing for/with their s/o. Pole dancing for Angel I guess and swing dancing for Alastor. Maybe make thete be a little spice for both my boys. 😳
Feel like I'm getting my Hazbin Hotel inspiration back little by little. God I missed them all.
Pairing: Angel Dust, Alastor x Reader
Tags: mildly nsfw, fluff, dancing, grinding, neck kissing, teasing, seduction
A/N: Angel is sure to dance a lot in the show proper judging by the promo images and Alastor, well he seems to love singing and dancing in general so I'm sure there will be plenty of that too.
Angel loves to dance for a crowd, just cause its his job doesn't mean he shouldn't enjoy it some
There is one audience member that he puts on a very good show for, you
You're not always watching him but when you are he makes sure to put on the outfit he knows is your favorite
Since he does have a job to do he can't just dance for you free of charge but he is your boyfriend so the money you give him is shared anyways
If you want a private show you have to pay, just like everyone else to not arouse suspicion
He's got no problem taking you to a private room and having a talk with you while he dances
Actually its a good way for you to spend more time with each other
Due to him still being your boyfriend you get certain privileges with him
You get to touch and kiss him all you want, anywhere you want, even below the belt
And if you need him to get on his knees for you well, that will cost you a bit extra but can be certainly be done
He's the one who usually gets you to dance with him rather then the other way around
At least once a day Alastor will pull you in for a slow dance around the living room
Just a little soft moment in which he gets to enjoy being close to you and forget about the rest of Hell existing
He wasn't expecting you to turn the tables on him and start grinding up against him
Not an action he doesn't like but he would rather keep those things... well maybe not in the Hotel living room
Slow kissing is on the table, just keep your hands to yourself, or else he might have to restrain you
Which is probably what you want since you keep acting out
He can play that game too, he can hold you close to him, he can kiss your neck and your cheeks, he can make you shiver against him with the smallest touch
You as soon as this dance is over he is taking you away into his room and not letting you get any sleep
If you really misbehave he might even broadcast your pleasure
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x you#angel dust x you#alastor x you#hazbin hotel imagines#angel dust imagine#alastor imagine#hazbin hotel headcanon#angel dust headcanons#alastor headcanons
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