#then had my friend do the same and i matched them up
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The set up | Alessia Russo x Reader
Where your best friend Gio sets you up with his sister.
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k
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“Come on, just let me set you up with one more girl.” Your best friend begged, making you roll your eyes. He loved trying to set you up, but nothing ever really came from it. “Like your other set ups worked so well.”
“Please, just one more before I head off to Bali. I can’t leave you here all on your own.” Oh he could be so annoying. “I have friends besides you Gio, you know that right?" You give him a friendly shove.
“Y/n, she’s totally your type. Just give me one more chance.” You knew when he was putting up his best puppy eyes, that you weren’t going to be able to say no. “Fine, but it will be your going away present, so don’t expect anything else.”
You checked your phone one more time to check if you had gotten the right restaurant, a reservation for two under the name Russo he had said. Why he had used his name instead of yours was a mystery to you, but that mystery quickly unravelled when you saw the girl that was sitting at the table the waiter was leading you to.
“Lessi?” The girl looked up with confusion written all over your face, just like yourself. “Hey y/n/n, what are you doing here?”
“Well, apparently Gio tried setting me up with you.” Alessia chuckled, “Of course he did.” You hesitate for a moment, which Alessia seems to notice. “Sit, this place has amazing food. Plus Gio is paying for the whole thing.” Now it was your turn to laugh. “How did you manage that?”
You settle into your seat while Alessia tells you how she convinced her brother to pay for the whole date. Alessia was right, the menu had some great choices, as you looked through them you wondered why Gio would set you up with his sister, was this one of his jokes, or was he serious about this?
"So, how have you been?" Alessia asks, breaking the brief silence. "I feel like it's been ages since we caught up properly." You had met Gio back in college, and had known his whole family for ages.
“It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m doing well. I got promoted at work which prompted my move to London, they offered me a managing position at their location here. I’ve been getting used to the changes, home and work wise, but overall I’m really happy with the change. How have you been? Has Arsenal been treating you well?” Now that you think of it, you hadn’t been to one of her matches since made the move to Arsenal. You often joined Gio and the Russo family on seeing Alessia play for either club or country, having watched her grow from a college athlete to this phenomenal professional player.
Alessia tells you all about her move to London and her time at Arsenal so far over the pizza’s that you both ordered. It had actually been really nice hanging out with the girl one on one, something you hadn’t done all too often.
When both your plates are empty, you don’t want to leave yet but you know you’ll have to say goodnight because you have work in the morning. “This was really nice Less, would you want to do it again some time?” You didn’t know how the blonde was looking at this set up as an actual date, or just as friends catching up, but as the evening came to an end you realised just how much you had enjoyed her company, and how much you would like to go out with her again.
“I had a great time, and I would love to do it again sometime, it’s a date.” Your heart warmed at the words ‘it’s a date’, glad to hear that she was feeling the same way. “Do you want to mess with Gio a bit?” She suggested, and she told you her plan after you agreed.
You step into Gio’s apartment without an invitation to come in, or saying hello. “Your sister? You set me up with your sister?” You tried your hardest not to smile. His eyes widened, “I really thought you guys would hit it off, and if not it would just be funny.” You shake your head and walk out of the door again. As you get in your car you quickly send Alessia a text.
Y/n: Part one of the plan has been executed :)
The next day you eagerly await Alessia’s text, after lunch your phone finally buzzes with a message from her.
Alessia: Part two is in motion!
You smile at the message, imagining what Alessia has cooked up, as she was clearly enjoying pranking her brother as much as you were.
The plan was to make Gio believe he messed up with setting the two of you up, while actually you already had your second date planned.
The second date was even better than the first one, instead of sitting down at a restaurant you went to an arcade. When you headed in the bustling arcade filled your ears, as Alessia led you right to the first game. “Ready to get crushed?” A sparkle behind her eyes told you enough about how tonight was going to go. “Bring it on.” You said back with determination.
You smirk as you get ball after ball in the basket, Alessia was doing well too, but your points were definitely going up quicker. When the timer ends, you have almost double the points she has. Alessia looks over in disbelief. “Less, how did your brother and I get to know each other?” She thinks for a moment before it finally dawns on her, you were both on the basketball team in college. “Okay, so that game doesn’t count because there was an unfair advantage. Let’s move on.”
She takes your hand and drags you to a new game, where the both of you are just as competitive. The wins were divided more now, her being better at some games, and you better at others. All in all, you had a great time.
At the end of the night she invited you to come see her play on Sunday, an offer you gladly accepted. It had really been too long since you had seen her play, and you were interested to see how her playing style had changed since she joined the new club.
She walked you to your front door, “You’ll be at the airport tomorrow as well right?” You nod, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” Gio was leaving for Bali tomorrow, and his family and a couple of his closest friends were coming to wave him off. Since you had stormed out of his apartment, the two of you were good again, but he still had no idea that you and Alessia had started dating.
Before she turns around to get to her car, she leans in and pecks your lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You kiss her again, wanting her with you a little longer. “Goodnight Less, text me when you get home?” With a nod and another quick kiss, you watch her drive off.
The next day you meet the Russo family at the airport. No one wanted to say goodbye, but you knew you had to since Gio had a plane to catch so you stepped up first. You give him a big hug, “I’m going to miss you, Gio. Have an amazing trip, and send me all the updates please.”
Gio noticed the two of you embracing, and started smirking instantly. He walked up to the two of you. “I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, you finally set me up with a good one.” He hugged the both of you. “I’m very happy for you both. Take care of each other while I’m away?” With a promise that you would, he went off to board his plane.
After you, more of Gio’s friends went ahead and said their goodbye’s, and last but not least, his family did as well. Alessia stepped back from saying bye with teary eyes, the goodbye being emotional for the family. She walked right towards you, and you wrapped your arms around her in comfort, no longer caring about the little plan you had made.
Carol walked up to the two of you, “Want to join us for dinner tonight, sweetheart?” You looked over to Alessia to make sure she was okay with you saying yes to her mom. When she agreed with a nod and a smile, you told Carol you would love to.
When Gio landed you were still at the Russo’s, and you Gio had added you all to a group chat called ‘Bali updates for the fam’, you smiled at the way he included you with his family, as the five of you watched his video showing you all the hotel room he would spend the first night.
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Make Me Your Masterpiece
Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)
(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)
You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.
They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.
You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.
“I think that’s-” you’d started.
“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.
The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes.
The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.
By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.
Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.
The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.
You’d been a goner right then and there.
And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.
As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.
Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.
He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.
Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.
You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”
It was the best first date you’d ever had.
For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.
You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.
You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.
Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.
You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting.
Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.
He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode.
You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.
Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.
You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.
Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.
“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”
You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.
It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.
Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.
“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”
He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth.
You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.
You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.
It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.
There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.
First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.
You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.
Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.
Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.
Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.
You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you.
After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.
“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.
He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”
Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.
You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.
Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.
You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.
He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”
“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.
You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.
His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.
“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.
Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”
You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.
The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.
“Where do you want me?”
“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.
His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”
Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”
You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.
You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.
His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.
Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.
He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.
Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.
There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.
He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”
You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.
Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.
You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.
“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”
Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.
You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.
“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”
The answer is easy, “Yes.”
You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.
The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.
The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.
He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”
You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.
“Bob”, you whine.
The camera clicks.
“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.” He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”
The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.
He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.
The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.
“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”
“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.
He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.
“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”
Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.
Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.
Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.
But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.
“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”
Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.
Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.
All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.
You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.
His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.
You needed more.
“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.
He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.
“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”
Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.
He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.
He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.
It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.
Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.
The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.
He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.
You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.
“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”
You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.
He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.
Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.
Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.
It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.
You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.
Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.
This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.
The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”
You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.
“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.
“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.
“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”
He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.
That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.
It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.
That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.
He gave you the sky and he made you his world.
Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!
A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!
You can read my other stories here!
taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#robert bob floyd fic#bob x you#bob x reader
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"I'm scared"
Alexia Putellas x reader
Part 3 of that awkward smile but also can stand on it's own in my opinion, just kinda in that same universe.
You get injured during the chelsea match and Alexia steps up to comfort you
I Part 1 I Part 2 I
Masterlist
To say you were stressed about the upcoming Chelsea match would have been an understatement. Champions league matches always held more weight to them so you’d always be the first to put an immense amount of pressure on yourself. You were similar to Alexia in that way, always expecting the absolute best from yourself and willing to push yourself to any length necessary to get there, no matter what it took.
But you were ready. That’s what everyone told you. Barça was incredible and you all knew exactly what you needed to do. You had trained for this and knew how to handle the pressure.
You did all your pre game rituals, even getting a quick kiss on the forehead from Alexia once the others had left the locker room. They still had no idea the two of you had gotten back together and at the moment you wanted to keep it that way, knowing Mapi would be fiercely protective over both of you, scared to see her best friends hurt each other once again.
Before you knew it, you were lined up in the tunnel, ready to take the pitch. Mapi was working her way through everyone, giving plenty of pep talks and words of wisdom asshe did so, being sure to make a long stop in front of you.
You were a center back, working hard to fill her shoes in her absence and trying your absolute best. Everyone knew it was a difficult job but you continued to improve and put in the extra hours to make sure you could make her proud. She was always sure to give you some extra advice and hype you up to make sure you knew that she believed in you. You had known Mapi for most of your life and as much as you’d never admit it, her faith in you worked wonders for your confidence and skills on the field. Especially with you still settling in at Barcelona, knowing that she trusted you in her absence made you step up to the plate in a way you hadn’t been able to before.
As she approached you, Mapi took both your hands in hers, looking at you with a rare sense of seriousness that she often didn’t show. “You’re ready for this, amiga. Just do what you do best, quit thinking about anything else, just go play and be the footballer that you are.” She gave you a short nod which you returned to her before pulling her in for a short hug. Soon afterwards, you were being led onto the pitch for the game to begin.
As the game got started, you settled into a pace that was much faster than most of the games you were used to. There was much more back and forth, more speed, and more physicality than you normally played with, both teams hungry for a win which only heightened the intensity further.
It was around the 60th minute when a Chelsea player sent a long ball down the field in your direction, hoping to reach Mayra Ramirez. You, being the closest to her, took off running towards her the second the ball started your way, pushing yourself to catch up with her and using your speed to your advantage. You were able to reach the ball just as it was about to arrive at its intended target, immediately jumping up in an attempt to head it away before Mayra could take control of it.
However just as your feet left the ground, you felt a mind-numbing crack to your temple, clearly coming into contact with something that wasn’t the ball, before immediately collapsing onto the pitch. What you didn’t realize when you tried to take the header, was how close you were to the opposing player who, like you, was jumping up in hopes of getting control over the ball, leading to her head smashing into the side of yours.
You had little to no awareness of the things going on around you as you layed there, curled in a ball, groaning in pain, wishing you didn’t exist. Pain was shooting through your skull with an intensity that made it hard to even pinpoint its origin. All you knew was that it hurt.
Everything hurt. The sunlight in your eyes hurt, making you keep them squeezed shut as tightly as possible. Squeezing your eyes shut caused pain too, but not quite as bad as if you had opened them. You didn’t even have the energy or mental capacity to fully react to the amount of pain you were feeling at that moment, just bringing your hands up to your face as if they would somehow shield you from the pain you were feeling, exhausted, tears unknowingly running down your face.
Game play stopped almost immediately as you and Mayra had both hit the ground hard, her seeming to be in better shape than you currently were. The second she saw your heads make contact, Alexia felt like her whole world came to a screeching halt. It did. You were her world. You had slowly become ingrained in everything she did as over the last couple months you had been together and now here you were, curled up motionless on the grass.
She didn’t even realize it but the blonde had begun sprinting towards you the second you went down, not even waiting for the whistle or giving it a second thought. It was automatic for her, the need to protect you outweighing everything else.
Normally if a teammate went down, Alexia would be the one to argue with the referee about whatever had happened and allow someone else to go comfort the injured player. It’s not like the captain had a reputation for being warm and fuzzy and good with handling people’s emotions. She’d leave that to the others so she could be the stone faced captain she preferred being. But not with you. You were different.
Alexia was by your side in an instant, suddenly no longer caring who knew about your relationship. Keeping things a secret wasn’t even a thought that crossed her mind as she slid to her knees next to you, instantly grabbing your hand in an attempt to provide you some comfort until the medical staff could reach you. Her hands shook as she brushed some hair off your face and wiped your tears, genuinely terrified of what was going on with you. The blank stare in your eyes, paired with your silence and lack of reaction was eerie to say the least.
“You’ll be okay, amor, I’ve got you. The physios are almost here.” It’s like time was moving in slow motion, feeling like they were taking forever even though they were just as prompt as they always were. Your girlfriend’s words were almost more for herself than they were for you. The way you still were yet to react, didn’t call for words of comfort, however she needed to say it out loud, just to hear it for herself. You would be okay. You had to be. She was thinking so many things at once that she couldn’t fully process it all, just fully in survival mode on your behalf.
When the physios reached your side, Alexia moved over to give them some space, still refusing to let go of your hand as they did so. She didn’t notice, but plenty of teammates had given her some weird looks, confused by her sudden concern over you and the way she was expressing it so openly. The look of fear in her eyes was new to everyone, even those she had known her entire life. Nobody had seen the captain looking so unsure of things when she was on the football pitch, normally that was the place where she came across as the most confident no matter what was going on.
The physios did their job, asking you a million questions and trying to examine you as best they could in your current state. Alexia could hardly pay attention to anything they said, far too caught up in her thoughts about what could be going on with you.
You were hardly answering any of the questions, just mumbling soft responses here and there, struggling to focus on their words. Because of your continued lack of coherency, the medical staff decided to stretcher you off- something that didn’t help Alexia’s mental state, doing her best to hide the tears that were welling up in her own eyes. She was still yet to let go of your hand, squeezing it tightly as if her hold on your hand alone could keep you safe as she helplessly watched the medical staff load you onto the stretcher.
The blonde stayed by your side as the staff wheeled you off, only stopping when they reached the sideline where Mapi had come down from the stands to wait for you to take Alexia’s place by your side. Alexia knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to come off yet. It was the Champion’s League and everyone knew there wasn’t the wiggle room to mess with the subs more than absolutely necessary. As much as it killed her to see you go without her, she knew she didn’t have another option and at the very least, she was grateful to know Mapi would be by your side the whole time.
When they paused at the sidelines with you, Alexia took the opportunity to give your hand a tight squeeze before bringing it to her lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. “You’ll be okay amor, I’ll see you as soon as this is over. I love you, okay?” She didn’t expect a response given your current state but appreciated the weak attempt at returning a squeeze of the hand to her. Mapi froze for a second, giving her a look of confusion over what she had just seen from her best friend before giving the captain a reassuring pat on the shoulder and taking Alexia’s spot by your side.
Everything after that was a blur for you, only knowing that the medical staff were busy performing tests on you, doing what they could to make sure you were okay. You became more and more aware of your surroundings as they did so, feeling the shock of the incident slowly starting to wear off. They decided you wouldn’t need to go to the hospital and that it appeared to be a grade two concussion, paired with the sudden shock of the injury. While you’d still spend longer than you’d like on the sidelines, it was a much better outcome than anyone was expecting given the state you had been in when it happened.
Once the physios had finished their tests, they gave you some medication for the pain and let you doze off on one of the treatment tables, snuggled into Mapi’s side while the game ended. The second the final whistle blew, Alexia was sprinting off the pitch with the sole intention of finding you, ignoring any other responsibilities that might have been awaiting her.
She burst through the door to the training room, expecting to be told that they took you to the hospital, stopping herself only when she saw you sleeping peacefully against Mapi. For the first time since you went down, the blonde was able to take a deep breath and calm down now that she had seen you looking relatively okay.
“Ssshhh, Ale, she’s asleep. But she’s okay. Grade two concussion, and plenty of shock but she’ll be okay, that’s all it is.”
“Gracias a Dios,” Alexia’s shoulders visibility relaxed as she let out a heavy sigh, having assumed the absolute worst for the last half hour.
“What’s going on between you two? Are you back together or something? Cause I really don’t think-”
“Si, Mapi,” The blonde rolled her eyes at Mapi’s reaction, knowing it was exactly what had prevented you from telling her earlier. “I know you’re worried about her but I promise it’s different this time. We’re both in a completely different place now, and we’ve talked about it a lot, and it’s going amazing, Mapi. I promise you. I will not do anything to hurt her.”
“You better not, juro por Dios. I’m so serious, Alexia, if you do anything-”
“I won’t! I swear, Mapi. I could never do that to her again. It kills me that I even did it the first time. This time is completely different, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.”
The defender only responded with a very pointed look, clearly not too pleased with the current situation. It didn’t help matters that you were still passed out against her, unable to help your girlfriend reassure her that things were going well between you.
Not wanting to discuss it any further, Mapi slid out from underneath you, carefully allowing Alexia to slide into her place. It was clear you knew who it was, snuggling into her further and grabbing the top of her kit tightly to make sure she couldn’t leave. It didn’t matter to you that she was drenched in sweat and smelling rough, you just needed her close to you, even if you weren’t awake enough to consciously decide that.
Alexia took your movement as an opportunity to wake you up, gently rubbing your shoulder, and speaking softly as she did so. “Hola, amor. I think we should get you home so you can keep sleeping there, get you more comfortable. Si? You’ll stay at mine so I can make sure you’re okay.”
You nodded weakly, mumbling a somewhat incoherent agreement. The idea of going home with her sounded great but the idea of moving sounded like the worst thing you could imagine at the moment.
She smiled softly at your reaction, knowing that there were few things you loved more than cuddling and that she knew she would have a hard time getting you to agree to get up right now. “You’re so cute when you’re tired and barely making sense, amor. I’ll carry you if you want.”
She sat up further in an attempt to encourage you to join her, hoping to get a better idea of how you were feeling, but wasn’t expecting to see tears pooling in your eyes as soon as she did so. “Ale, I feel horrible.” Your voice was wobbly as you tried to hold in your emotions, suddenly overcome with pain in your head once again.
“I know sweetheart, I know. I’ve got you though, okay? I’ve just gotta get you home and then I’ll take good care of you and let you rest more. Is that alright?”
You nodded, looking and feeling more broken than you ever had before. “Could I please just hug you, first? Then we can go.”
Your words made her melt, suddenly aware of how much you needed her support right now, allowing you to collapse into her arms. “Shh, I’ve got you. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’ll be alright, mi amor, you’ll be alright.” She rocked you gently in a way that almost seemed to dull the pain you were feeling. This moment in her arms was the best you had felt since you hit the ground, and it did more than you ever could’ve guessed. Something about being in her arms seemed to work better than any prescription ever could.
When you pulled away from her, she gently wiped away your tears, once again pushing your hair back away from your face. “I’ll see if Mapi can grab our stuff and then we’ll meet her at the car okay? Do you want a sweatshirt or anything?” You were both in your kits still and Alexia knew you enough to know that you always ran cold and preferred being snuggled up in a big sweatshirt. Your only response was a pouty face, sticking your bottom lip out at her with your best puppy dog eyes as she gave you a smile and shake of her head in return. Of course Alexia knew exactly what you were implying with that face. It was your subtle (or not so subtle) way of requesting a sweatshirt of hers instead of your own. “I’ll get you a sweatshirt and let Mapi know that we’re ready to leave. Then I’ll come get you. Okay?” You nodded at her which she acknowledged with a quick peck on the lips before leaving the room, giving you the opportunity to lay down for a few more minutes while you waited.
You must have slightly dozed off by the time Alexia returned to you because you awoke to the sound of the door opening once again. “Feeling any better?”
You squinted slightly, trying to let your head adjust to the lights in the room. “Ale, you were gone for like five minutes, why would I feel any different?” The words carried more attitude than you intended, too far distracted by the pounding in your skull, but your girlfriend seemed to be unphased, just shrugging off your words before helping pull her sweatshirt on over your head.
Once you seemed to be more comfortable, she turned so her back was facing you, bending down slightly so you could climb on, piggy-back style. “Hop on, I’ll carry you to the car, amor.” So you did just that, climbing on and then burying your face into the side of her neck, partially to block out some of the light, partially because you just wanted to be as close as possible.
When you reached her car, she gently set you down on the passenger seat, making sure you were comfortable and buckled before leaving a kiss on the top of your head to go to the driver’s side. As soon as she sat down, she reached to hold your hand, giving it yet another reassuring squeeze. Although the silence between you provided some relief from the pounding in your head, It also sent you into a spiral of anxiety thinking about what this concussion might mean for you.
Alexia quickly noticed your change in demeanor as she drove and how you went from mostly asleep in a comfortable silence to staring into space, clearly filled with tension. The fact that you were suddenly more awake was her biggest red flag given that you had been in and out the entire time she’d seen you. The panicked Alexia that had appeared when you first went down seemed to be back and filled with concern over you once again. “Hey, are you okay? Is something worse with your head, amor? What’s wrong? Do you want me to pull over? I can pull over if you want?”
“I don’t know, I’m just scared I guess.” You gave her a grim shrug that did little to calm her nerves, still looking at you expectantly, trying to figure out how to help.
“Scared of what? You’ll be okay, they said most of your symptoms should be getting better already in a few days.”
“Not about that, Ale.”
“Then what…” the blonde trailed off, clearly confused as to what you were saying.
When she seemed to not be catching on, you let out a sigh, dreading saying the words that had come to mind. “It’s just that last time we dated, injuries are part of what tore us apart. We couldn’t deal with the stress of them. I’m just scared that that might happen again.” You paused, trying to put your thoughts into words, “I can’t lose you again, Alexia. So I don’t know if I should stay with you and I don’t know if we should do this, because I don’t think I can handle that again.” Your voice cracked as you went silent once again, both of you simmering in what was just said. By the time you finished speaking she had pulled into the driveway so she could now turn to face you, cradling the side of your head in her hand. The warmth of her large hand provided you comfort as you leaned into her touch, letting her support your head even more.
“Amor. I know it’s scary, I do. But I never plan on letting you go. Not ever. I promised Mapi that while you were passed out earlier and I’ll promise you that. We talked about this, we were both different people then. We are both more mature, stronger, kinder, smarter, and better. This is not the same.” You finally looked up to meet her eyes for the first time that night. “And I think you know that, amor. I love you, so, so, so, much. It’s okay to be scared, I’ll carry enough faith in us for the two of us. But at the end of the day, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. There’s a reason we got back together, si?”
It was rare that you saw Alexia get so sentimental and emotional but something about you seemed to bring out that side of her. “Gracias, Ale,” she leaned forward to give you a gentle kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously.” She interrupted you with more kisses in an attempt to pull your mind away from your anxieties and back to the present.
When she pulled away, Alexia was relieved by the small smile that had appeared on your face, the first she’d seen since before the game today. “Now let’s go inside, we can take a bath and get you some comfier clothes, and get you all snuggled up to go to bed. I’ll hold you as much as you want, I won’t go anywhere.”
You gave her a small nod, before slowly leaving the car and following her inside, ready for a night with Alexia all to yourself and ready to take care of you. Your head still hurt, but if there was one thing that could make it feel better, you knew it would be your girlfriend and the hardcore pain meds you’d been given.
might end up doing one more for this but we'll see :)
Requests are always open
Masterlist
#barcelona femeni#woso imagines#barca femeni#fcb femini#woso one shot#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#espwnt#espwnt x reader#alexia x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#alexia putellas imagine#futfem#wosoreadingalexia#wosoreading24/7
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happy gojo fluff friday i guess. gojo x f!reader. established relationship, self indulgent crafting fluff, reader is teaches the second years. | divider by cafekitsune, wc 1.4k, reading time 5 mins 17 seconds
“I used to make these all the time, remember?”
Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you in your living room, you hold up a bundle of braided twine bracelets, a rainbow of colors with assorted charms attached to them. Little plastic seashells on the blue one, flowers dotting the green one.
Satoru remembers, he still has the one you made him in your first year. It feels like a lifetime ago that six teenagers had vaguely matching mementos they wore showing their unity as a group, yourself and your fellow first years Nanami and Haibara and of course himself and his friends.
“Blue seems cliche,” you opined at the time with a raised brow, a pink cheeked seventeen year old Gojo staring back at you anxiously. His crush had bloomed by then although you pretended to be oblivious to it. “How about pink instead?”
He has never been able to tell you no so he nodded, keeping his mouth screwed shut while you worked. Pink he received, so bright it almost hurt his eyes to wear it back then. You attached a little smiley face charm right in the middle, affixing it around his wrist. He wore it every day until it began to unravel, safely kept in a small lockbox in the back of his closet.
The same box that contains most of the memories you’ve given him, the photos, the cards, the trinkets, and the ones the two of you have yet to make including that pesky engagement ring he can never seem to figure out the right time to give you.
“I might take it to school with me tomorrow just to see what the kids think.”
Two big hands make their way to your bent thighs and you smile, still digging through the box in your lap. Beads, closures, all the stuff you used to pride yourself on keeping tidy and neat. You glance up at him, that same smile on your face.
“Let me make you a new one since I have all this stuff out.”
You dig through the box for a minute more, squinting and making a show of exaggeratedly humming. Leaning in toward him, you hold colored embroidery floss up to his face to compare it to the shades of his eyes, the unforgettable feature that they are. One bundle of floss is too green, the other is too yellow.
“What do you think the kids will say?” He asks, watching each of your movements raptly. Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you concentrate, an adorable habit you’ve maintained in all of the years he’s known you, and you sit back on your haunches for a moment, hands on your thighs.
Yet another adorable habit.
He reaches to grab your arm, gently rubbing his thumb along the inside of it. You smile at the touch and ponder what your students will truly think if you bring this to them. It’s a bit of a dated hobby compared to the luxury of choice teenagers have now and you laugh to yourself, shaking your head.
“Well, Maki will probably say you’re rubbing off on me since I don’t bother to teach anymore and call it stupid to my face.” Satoru chuckles, watching through his lashes while you spring back into action, reaching behind you to grab a few more bundles of blue. “Inumaki will probably spell something inappropriate in English if I bring the letter beads. Panda will ask me to make each of them a matching bracelet because he’s sweet and will request that I make one for Yuuta to have when he gets back, too.”
Looking at the latest bounty recovered from the little tackle box that stores the trinkets required for this, you gasp. Cerulean with a deep blue sparkle woven through the strands.
I’ll save this for something special some day, you told yourself more than a decade ago, spending your student stipend in some fancy embroidery shop in Nippori. Yen exchanged for fancy thread, dotted with glitter or metallic coating. You had no idea. Maybe you even bought it back then hoping a day where you’d be able to compare it to Satoru’s eyes would arrive, subconsciously laying the tracks for your own future.
“It’s a perfect match.”
The grin on your face is mirrored by your love who reaches around your body to grab from the twine selection himself. A handful of colors that match your eyes sit across his large palm and he glances down at the collection, mimicking your previous attempts to find something that screamed “him”.
“What are you doing?” The question is a half joke but you let him hum to himself, raising one bundle and then another to compare them. “Well, I didn’t make you one back then because I thought I was too cool,” he blinks at you, making you giggle. “I was right, of course, but there’s no time like the present, right?”
Nodding your agreement, you remove the paper from around the twine and shake it out. You’ll need some coordinating colors so you dig back through the bundles in front of you, sticking them against his face again.
“I still have the one you made me, by the way.”
Scoffing, you roll your eyes and use your index finger to poke around in the bead compartment, searching for the perfect one for your newest creation.
“Don’t lie, I can always tell.” Satoru grabs your hand delicately although your fingers are still holding various crafting supplies and raises it to his lips, gently kissing your wrist. You are very attentive to the little things about him and likely noticed when he finally stopped wearing it, several years after it was first made. “I’m not lying. I had to stop wearing it because it was unweaving and I didn’t want to lose it forever.”
You feel guilty for the accusation and lean in toward him, kissing the tip of his nose, claiming your hand back from his grasp to begin braiding twine together into a pattern.
“I can always re-make it if you’d rather have a pink one,” you offer, braiding together various shades of blue in your lap without looking down. “I can wear this one.”
Smiling softly, he looks at you, then the bundle of your eye colored twine in his own hand.
“You wear the blue one and I’ll make one that matches you to wear myself, how about that?”
Nodding, you let the conversation fall quiet while he unbundles his own selections, fingers deftly separating and joining three strands, just the way you tried to teach him years ago when you assumed he didn’t care. He has always paid far more attention to you than you’ve realized and you’ve given him a lot to study over the last ten or so years.
“I think you should leave this at home,” he admits. It’s selfish but he doesn’t want to see you share this precious memory with your students who may not even appreciate it. He wants to sit cross legged on the living floor with you, making little friendship bracelets that will eventually unravel or fade or snap, for the rest of his life. He wants to make them for your children someday, matching bracelets with mom and dad. He wants to keep this, to keep you, all to himself.
“Okay. It’s probably for the best anyway, I don’t need to give them one more thing to give me shit about.”
Satoru leans toward you and kisses your forehead right as you’re finishing the blue bracelet. He looks down, tying and knotting it around your wrist, remembering when you did the same for him so long ago.
“Looks good.” His words catch your eye and you smile up at him, looking between his eyes and the bracelet wrapped around your wrist. It is an uncanny match and you’re proud of your own eye for color though your pride is stopped in its tracks when he sticks out his wrist, bracelet pinched between two of his fingers and dangling from his hand. “Would you mind?”
You do as he did for you, as you’ve done for him before, with softness in your eyes it would be impossible to hide.
“Not bad,” you compliment and he shrugs with a chuckle. “Obviously. I even think mine is the better of the two.”
Letting your hand rest in his lap, next to his, the hastily made bracelets sit one next to the other on each of your bodies. His eyes follow yours and he weaves your fingers together, thumb gently rubbing the thickest part of your palm.
It’ll always be the two of you, a perfectly matched set, no matter what.
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Hiii gorgeous ☺️
But I have this adorable idea for a story featuring Pablo . How about a future story where the reader attends a wedding with Pablo and his family? They decide to wear matching outfits. Before his family member's wedding, when they see each other in their wedding attire, he wants to give the reader a kiss. She asks him to kiss her gently so that her lipstick/lip gloss won’t smudge, and they share a very cute moment together. Maybe even his parents or Aurora tease them playfully, but in a fun and non-offensive way. Throughout the whole wedding, they are being so cute, and they steal the show.
Hope you like the idea, and maybe consider writing it in the future! I just genuinely wanted to share my idea with you ☺️
Wedding
Summary: You and Pablo were family friends since childhood and you were invited to attend wedding as his date..little did they know you two had a secret crush on each other.
"Do I have to wear this mamá!?" Pablo was already whining not sure how to tie his bow properly and Aurora was giggling and showing me his confused face on the face time call.
"Pablo, stop complaining and finish getting ready! Y/n is waiting for us to pick her up.." Belen said rushing around the house to make sure she gets all the gifts and the cake she made for the bride.
When they arrived, I came out in a black dress matching Pablo's suit and he politely came out and opened the door for me. We were friends for a long time but in the past few months I started to develop feelings for my close family friend and now we were attending wedding together! Just great!
I never expected Pablo to feel the same way since he had so many beautiful fan girls some of them photo models and influencers that were so much more attractive than me.
"Porque estas triste chiqui?" he asked touching my hand and I felt a shiver move down my spine at that simple physical contact. I always feel insecure when I think about this..so I ignored it often.
"Just tired.." I lied and he smiled moving closer and kissing my cheek. He was always a physical touch type of person so it wasn't weird to have him hug or kiss my cheek often.
"We'll survive this together.." he said and we both giggled while pulling up the the venue and a bunch of girls attached his window begging for photos. The same feelings returned..Pablo will never return my feelings when he has so many options.
When we walked in, Pablo pulled out my chair, brought me a drink and always checked if I needed anything. Aurora and Javi danced majority of the night while me and Pablo sat together and talked about random things.
"You look beautiful tonight chiqui.." he randomly said and I blushed.
"Thank you! You cleaned up nice yourself, only.." I said fixing up his bow tie a little not expecting him to take my hands in his and kiss them lovingly..luckily Belen interrupted out moment before i freaked out!
One thing I loved most about our relationship is that it was never boring when we were together, there was always something to talk about and no matter what it was never avkward.
"Um..do you maybe want to dance with me Y/n?" he said shyly and I looked at him with blushing cheeks.
"Since when do you dance Pablo?" I asked and Belen caught onto what we were talking about pushing us to try it together.
"Let's go embarrass ourselves together, shall we my lady?" he said and I swear my heart almost broke our of my chest when I heard him call me my lady. I stood up taking his hand and walking to the dance floor.
"Okay just try and follow me..." he said snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me close while I gulped trying not to faint from the feeling of being this close to him finally.
"So tell me what makes you sad chiqui.." he asked again and I felt nervous not really knowing how to approach this topic the right way..I couldn't tell him the truth and I hated lying to my best friend.
"It's really nothing Pablo.." I tried the same method and his hand went to the side of my face making me shut up and just stare into his eyes.
"We don't lie to each other chiqui?" he reminded and I sighed. He was right..so I decided to say partial truth.
"I just wonder what your fan girls have to say for me being your date for a wedding..?" I said and he rolled his eyes as his grip on my waist tightened.
"I don't care about that! And I'm glad it's you..because I know you and I feel comfortable with you. We were friends for so long.." he said and I sighed about to pull away but he pulled me back quickly making me look up.
"Stop!" he said sternly and I whimpered pouting at him as he sighed.
"Why?" I said and he drew invisible circles on my waist. I was breathing heavily looking at him as his eyes moved lower watching my lips now.
"Can I kiss you?" he whispered underneath his breath while focusing on my lips and I was in utter shock at his question. I wasn't even sure that I heard his right..did he just ask to kiss me!?
"U..um..do you want to?" I asked and his hand started caressing my cheek while his eyes were glued on my lips. Damn I wish he would kiss me already!
'So bad chiqui.." he said moving closer and looking into my eyes as to check if I was approving of his actions. When I smiled and didn't move but nodded he cupped my cheeks and kissed my lips passionately.
"P..Pablo.." I whimpered and he smiled pulling me in again and kissing my lips with passion while his hands went into my hair not letting me move an inch.
We completely forgot where we were, standing there, holding each other and kissing like we are the only two people left on Earth..and it was perfect..everything I ever imagined. Suddenly people clapped around us and we pulled away embarrassed.
"We really embarrassed ourselves.." I said and he grabbed my hand looking around the crowd who was aweing and smiling.
"Come with me chiqui.." he pulled me outside into the garden passing Aurora on the way who slipped "congrats hermano!" and made him smile wide.
"Come here.." he said pulling onto my waist while sitting on the bench and placing me on his lap. I rested against him blushing and smiling like an idiot the entire time..was this real?
"Is this real Pablo?" I asked turning to face him and he smiled nodding him head and pulling me close to leave a few more sweet gentle kisses on my lips.
"Why wouldn't it be real mi amor?" he said using the words I waited so long to hear leave his mouth..he was saying it to me..he called me mi amor like in some fairytale.
"B..because you're Pablo Gavi and I.." I started and he shut me up with a kiss.
"You're the most gorgeous and kindhearted girl I have ever met mi amor..and the only one I want" he said making me stare at him in awe. Just as I was about to lean in and kiss him first this time did Aurora pull my hand making me stand off his lap.
"Aii que lindo but they are throwing a bouquet! All ladies have a chance to catch it!" she said pulling me inside as I gave Pablo apologetic look and he smiled walking inside as well.
"Whoever catches it, will be a happy bride!" Belen said walking up to Pablo with his father who smiled pretending to close his son's mouth when he watched him stare at me form afar.
"I take it she said yes Pablito?" his dad asked and Pablo blushed nodding his head while his father tapped his shoulder proudly.
"Que!? you and y/n hijo??" his mom was surprised but happy at the same time that her son is with someone she knew and trusted so much to take care of him.
"Only you were clueless to their secret crush they had on each other Belen" his dad said making everyone laugh. The the bouquet was thrown and it landed straight into my hands making everyone call "Gavi Gavi!" and my face to go completely red. Pablo saw this and quickly joined me pulling me into his chest while everyone cheered.
"You would be a perfect bride in the future amor.." he said kissing the top of my head as everyone went back to their business and we slow danced with each other once again happy to finally do so as a real couple!
"Are you happy now mi amor?" he asked while we danced resting his forehead against mine and I smiled.
"The happiest!" I answered and he smiled pulling me into another kiss.
y.n.bebe
look at the starts..look how they shine for you💗
comentarios:
pablogavi: mi amorcito😍
y/n/bebe: 😳
aurorapaezg: the way she looks at mi hermanito💗💗💗
y/n/bebe: hehe❤️
gavigavifans: adorable!!
belengavira: future mrs Gavira 😍
aurorapaezg: she caught the bouquet!
y/n/bebe: 😳
pablogavi:😊
#gavigif#gavi#fc barça#fc barca#fc barcelona#pablo gavi x you#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi icons#pablo gavi
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oh
December 4, 2022
Livia was sitting on the couch with Kate, both sitting in robes and their hair in braids with a hair mask in, with a clay face mask on their faces and Kate was working on Livia’s nails.
Tyler was sitting next to them leaning his head back on the couch and had his cucumbers still on his eyes.
Livia has been adored by the couple since she met them and at least once a month usually a few times a month they always have a spa night and just gossip.
Livia also loves to babysit their three dogs when the two want to go on a date night and the two will always come home and find her fast asleep on the couch with their dogs cuddled around Livia.
“Soooo!” Tylee singsonged as he leaned up and caught the cucumbers that fell off his face and tossed them into his mouth.
Kate and Livia shared an exasperated look but both turned to Tyler.
“When are you going to put poor johnny out of his misery and tell him you’re in love with him.” Tyler looked extremely curious as he blunty asked Livia.
The whole team very quickly picked up on the fact Wyatt is completely in love with Livia, it was extremely easy to realize and he is always following her around like a puppy in love.
But the team could also tell Livia was also just in love with Wyatt, meaning they have seen her speak more words to him in one day than she had said to all of them in her first month in Dallas.
Also how they both of them are always touching each other and Wyatt and Livia are always found cuddling with each other and always both fast asleep.
Livia choked on her own breath and her eyes widening so much they nearly looked like they were going to pop out.
Kate winced in sympathy and gently rubbed Livia’s back as she tried to catch her breath again.
“What! Me and Wy are just friends.” Livia quickly spluttered out still looking completely shocked.
Tyler let out a booming laugh, “You don’t actually think that.” Tyler slowly stopped laughing when he saw Livia’s face, “You don’t actually think that do you?” Tyler looked extremely incredulous.
“We’re just friends.” Livia protested shrugging back.
“She’s joking.” Tyler shook his head in disbelief and then looked at his girlfriend, “She’s joking right?”
“Do you like him?” Kate gently questioned Livia, turning her full attention to the young girl.
“He’s my best friend.” Livia simply answered and avoiding the question.
“That’s not an anwser.” Tyler piped in and Kate shot him a stern look not wanting to overwhelm Livia too much, especially when it’s obvious she’s pretty confused.
“Liv do you like Wyatt?” Kate gently asked once more giving her an encouraging smile.
Livia blanched looking extremely overwhelmed and confused at the same time, “I uh don’t know.” Livia stuttered out truthfully she never let herself think to much about the idea of liking Wyatt never wanting to mess anything up.
“Alright how about this, i’ll ask you some questions and you see if Wyatt does that to you?” Kate softly suggested and Livia nodded in agreement
“Do you get butterflies around him? like your stomach turns into knots and it makes you nervous but the good nervous?” Kate gently grabbed Livia’s hand and gently rubbed her knuckles comforting
Sixteen year old Livia and Wyatt were each other prom dates and Livia had a dark green dress that had long puffy mesh sleeves and Wyatt had an all black suit with a matching tie and pocket square to her dress
Wyatt gently clipped on the botuiner on her dainty wrist, the flowers matched the two perfect.
Wyatt was having the time of his life being able to go to prom with the girl he’s been in love with for years he looked back up and gently brushed back a baby hair off of her forehead and gave her a fond smile.
Livia didn’t understand why at the time her stomach was turning but she felt extremely excited and her cheeks were burning.
“Does he make you feel safe?” Kate added watching Livia closely.
Livia was tense as she stood with the team by the bar, all she wanted was to go home and get some sleep especially with her ribs hurting from the hit she got that night.
Wyatt looked over trying to find her and saw how tense she was and the pinch between her eyebrows that only shows up when she is uncomfortable.
Wyatt quickly pushed through the crowd quickly and made it right to Livia’s side, he wrapped an arm gently around her shoulder and watch as she tensed before realizing it was him and relaxing into him.
“Wanna go back?” Wyatt’s leaned down and whispered against her ear, and Livia quickly nodded wanting to go home.
She let out a sigh as she relaxed completely against him feeling safe as he led them outside.
“And most importantly does he make you smile?” Kate asked once more.
An eighteen year old Wyatt walked in Livia’s room holding a bag and he frowned at the sight of his best friend looking so sick in bed, she was mostly hidden under the blankets but you could see her bright red nose and glossy eyes.
“Oh Livvy.” Wyatt gently cooed walking over and sitting next to her and gently feeling her forehead that was way too warm.
“Wy.” Livia mumbled her eyes looking up at him pitifully.
“I know i know.” Wyatt mumbled soothingly knowing how much Livia hates being sick.
He set the bag onto her bed, “I got your favorite chicken noodle soup.” Wyatt told her watching as she perked up slightly, “And if you eat most of it i got you chocolate chip cookies.” Wyatt shook the bag of cookies knowing they are her absolute favorite.
“Only if you get under the blanket.” Livia mumbled giving him puppy eyes.
“Like you had to even ask.” Wyatt quipped jack and getting up taking his jacket and shoes off and Livia smiled for the first time since she felt sick and it was all because of her best friend.
“Oh.” Livia breathed out as she realized all these years she has been in love with him.
Kate and Tyler shared a relieved look that they managed to make her figure out her feelings.
#liviadrysdaleau#ld4#wyatt johnston x oc#wyatt johnston#ty dellandrea#tyler seguin#joe pavelski#jamie benn#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale x oc#trevor zegras x oc#luke hughes#luke hughes x oc#jack hughes#jack hughes x oc#quinn hughes x oc#quinn hughes#trevor zegras#roope hintz#jake oettinger#jason robertson#miro heiskanen#dallas stars#philadelphia flyers#flyers hockey#anaheim ducks#mason mctavish#nhl x oc#nhl au#new jersey devils
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Hii i wanted to share my thoughts on the soulmate for Oisín Sanji if thats alright
I voted for Zoro myself (even thought honestly they would all be sweet/funny) but i think the situation with Zoro is the funniest like-
imagine all your life till this point youve been training the be the greatest swordsman of them all and you has your eyes set on this one guy all this time and also in the back of your head youre aware he has a kid thats around your age (based on the wanted posters when they stopped updating) and you see it as someone to help you get closer to your end goal
Que you becoming a pirate and later meeting this pretty asshole of a cook who you quickly become head over heels for when he shows his spark when fighting, he's your equal and you havent had that since your best friend died
And then you find out he is the kid of your rival but somehow instead of it being heartbreaking it only makes it better because even in the time you didnt know, he takes care of your swords with so much love and care, he helps you get a proper swordsman diet like he has done it a thousand times already and- he has a swordsmans soulmate mark!!!
Idk i just think zosan for this would be very funny but at the same time very sweet (love sick Zorooo 💥💥 he loves his spicy boy friend)
But i also think it would give mihawk a giant headache so thats also funny
No, no I get it. Trust me. It is the funniest option but also gives Mihawk the largest headache-especially if Zoro never connects the dots fully until they meet up on Karai Bari. BUT BEFORE THAT???
Zoro who hasn't had a decent match since Kuina died. He's had his eyes set on Hawkeye since he was a kid and joined the dojo and wanted to be the best since. Not because Hawkeye was the best then-he wasn't but everyone knew he would be and he had a kid around his age and the kid has a twirly brow with a dumb name. Then the posters stop updating and Hawkeye becomes a warlord then Kuina dies. He takes Wado and leaves to fulfill his and Kuina's dreams. He becomes a bounty hunter because he needs the money and the roads and islands keep moving on him. He keeps his eyes out for the guy around his age who could be Mihawk's kid. Then he gets tied up in a marine base and is freed by a guy who wants him to become a pirate. He agrees. They get a crew, a navigator and then a liar/sharpshooter and when they get to this fish restuarant? Sure he loses to Mihawk and gets bisected and the prettiest guy he ever saw is yelling at him to give up his dream but he doesn't die. It's fine, it's fine~. He's alive and the blond guy is hot and he can kick ass and he doesn't use swords.
Also the blond guy's name is Sanji and Zoro doesn't use his name at all. He is whatever nickname Zoro calls him in that moment. He's an equal and Zoro tells him all about his plans to find Hawkeye's kid when it's time for a rematch and draw him out to a duel, twirly always laughs at him for it, keeps saying it's a one way ticket to dying. He says it with a dopey smile though. He cares for Zoro's swords when he's on bedrest and isn't allowed to move, doing so anyway despite Chopper's protests. Also they know they're so soulmates, Zoro's whole back covered in blue and fish. Sanji's shoulder braided like the hilt of Wado Ichimonji and just as beautiful. Zoro wishes he knew what Oisín's soulmark looks like because it would be so much easier to find him.
After Sabaody when he's on Kuriagana and wishing he could have been there for his captain but he's training against his dream, with the man who holds his dream and it's good. Even if ghost girl is there and he's away from his soulmate. When he asks Mihawk where his kid is and Perona is curious because he never came to warlord meetings with the kid. Mihawk is like 'yes, that was part of the deal I made becoming a warlord, they would stop updating his bounties. As for his current location, no idea.' because he has his own dream and he's not taking his father's mantle, doesn't want it. Zoro yells that he's no help and Mihawk asks if he wants to follow suit of the people who tried to take his son before him, just because he's stronger doesn't mean he's strong enough yet. Zoro takes massive offense to this.
When they get back together and are leaving Sabaody Zoro is absolutely complaining about this to Sanji despite saying he's stronger and Sanji is laughing his ass off again. Sanji points out that Zoro seems to be overlooking the fact the kid was raised by Mihawk and Zoro grumbles and just buries into his side. Of course after WCI and Wano Sanji is prickly, even to his soulmate, even after the death pact. Zoro is absolutely never letting Sanji out of his sight again so when they go meet Mihawk and the rest of the Guild on Karai Bari the crew is nervous. Except for the monster trio and Robin.
At some point either Mihawk or Sanji slip up, it's just habit as they cook together on the Sunny since Mihawk is the only one to get along with the Straw Hat pirates. They're chatting idly and the crew is there just to make sure and Sanji points at something and is like 'hand the salt over, dad' and Mihawk just hands it over 'Oisín, you're an adult, really?' before they both pause and sigh. The crew is absolutely losing it in different ways. Nami is pissed that Mihawk wasn't there for WCI, Zoro is pissed that Sanji hid being Oisín, Luffy is laughing really fucking hard and asking Zoro how he didn't know, Chopper and Usopp are despairing. Robin hums and asks Mihawk if he knew Zoro was Sanji's soulmate and Mihawk sighs long and loud and Sanji asks if Zoro was telling him the same shit he was telling him for their whole relationship, Mihawk says yes and that Zoro is a fucking moron.
Do I also have something utterly heart breaking and wrenching for acesan in Oisín!sanji? Yes. Was this fun to write? Yes.
#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#zosan#answers#zoro roronoa#sanzo#hawkeye mihawk#dracule mihawk#oisín!sanji#single dad!mihawk#soulmate au
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happy straw hat halloween!
fun fact: words cannot express how much i did Not want to color this, but i needed it to be obvious that frankys “antlers” are his hair :/
#one piece#luffy#zoro#nami#usopp#sanji#nico robin#chopper#franky#brook#jimbei#phew… thats all of em#these swaps were mostly randomized actually#i made a list of them in a random order#then had my friend do the same and i matched them up#i moved chopper tho bc we put him in the same place
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a friend who'd wait :)
#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol#finn's ocs#finn's art#i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me#and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun#i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past#he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it#he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned#which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore#but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird#and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place#though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library#and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together#since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door#eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement#barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate#but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd#he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself#but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov#sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3#but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh
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i've been real busy with work and today was Especially Busy i barely got to listen to the episode before an important work thing i had going on but i will say. the lovesongs are lovesonging in my head thats the only thing ive taken from this episode (<- delusional)
#dndads spoilers#dndads#kasey rambles#let me explain my delusions here in the tags#last episode we had sparrow and nicky at each others throats with sparrow even threatening to break his own non violence pact#this episode we have taylor and normal now locked up to fight each other#sparrow doesn't want anyone to die (and definitely not any of the teens! not just his own) and nicky definitely doesn't want to lose taylor#and this ep focused so hard on the nicky betrayal that i really do think it COULDVE affected the twins too if anthony weren't a coward#specifically sparrow. ESPECIALLY sparrow. you really think the LOVEWOLF was happy about using violence to scare a friend?#and sparrow's starting to break away from his same man twice deal with lark. there is NO WAY he doesn't feel guilty as hell#coupled with the teens being in a death match. i have been thinking about#about#about sparrow volunteering himself and nicky to fight in taylor and normal's stead#as a proxy for them. yknow#and nicky agrees because he doesn't want to risk taylor's life. and because he's angry at sparrow#but he doesn't realize sparrow's acting out of a sense of misplaced guilt. that he WANTS to die for his mistakes.#anyways. im soooo so normal
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uh oh i feel like i have a deeply maladaptative response to people knowing Literally Anything about me it's fine it's fine i'm handling it very well
#constantly daydreaming about throwing my phone in the river n leaving a nice note for my parents and fucking LEAVING#but like#if i just stop talking to my friends#then what's the point#do i make new friends? will i do the same shit to my new friends?#it feels like kind of a dick move to do that to people i like#and i DO like them#i like hanging out w them and just. i don't know. i feel like this freedom i dream of is something i could have in this life yknow.#i feel if i had balls i could just start living the life i want#it's not even like my parents are dicks or something they trust me and they've very understanding and loving#they wouldn't judge me for how i dress or be mad if i stay out late as long as i warn them#but i dont know. i dont know why i'm a massive fucking weirdo about it okay.#but i've caused them so much trouble already. i feel like i'm betraying them if i grow up.#i feel like i'm causing them too much worry no matter if i stray away from the nest or stay.#and i feel like a fucking monster for not loving them enough but i can't stand being near them anymore#it's too painful#i've never managed to completely hate them even when i was deep in depression and they handled it poorly#i'd get into a screaming match with my dad and an hour later we'd sing songs together in the car#but it's been so dull lately. it feels like im in a video game. picking prewritten dialogue and being fed prewritten answers.#and WHY does this happen. why can't i just have a normal relationship with people#why do i turn into an alien on his first day on earth whenever i start caring abt someone#why are we so fucking abnormal as a family that we never goddamn hang out#why am i such an empty husk of a person that i cannot for the life of me figure out something we could do together#i keep believing in this fantasm of one day changing everything in one fell swoop instead of growing up like a normal guy#because i know i'm a coward. i'm scared of other people seeing me fail.#i dont want to hurt my parents ever again and i dont want to settle for halfway freedom#so i repress hardcore things i want so that nobody not even me can decipher what it is#smth smth the enormity of my desire disgusts me#and of course it fails because im weakshit and cannot restrict anything ever#and i hurt them anyway
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if your f/o has tattoos do you ever just trace them when the two of you are sitting close together or laying down next to each other before bed? if you have tattoos does your f/o trace them whenever you two have a moment alone or when you're preoccupied with something?
bonus: do the two of you have matching tattoos? did you two get them at separate times or together?
#the host of my heart and i have matching tattoos and back when i got it i surprised her w it#she loves how my friend did it and wishes i would wear different shirts to show it off so everyone can see it#my favorite war criminal <3 got one back when she was in a gang to rep them more openly#i'm going to end up getting something from the series to remind me of her#professor sexy would want to give me a tattoo herself and i would agree as long as it looks like something she has#3rd street enforcer would be surprised i would get a tattoo that has anything to do w the gang she leads#after her surprise passes she would pull me close and ask to see it#i do plan on getting a tattoo of a specific piece of art in the second games safehouse since i like it a lot#shieldmaiden of my heart would love to get a matching tattoo at some point but her body is already full of ink#so i'd get something that was close to one of hers and say we match#pmc to psm would have the same reaction as 3rd street enforcer but would get the rest of the gang in on trying to coax me into showing them#i would end up tracing their tattoos whenever we had time to spend together between their daily tasks or in the morning before we got up#they'd trace mine while i watched a random video or while i did my schoolwork#they like to trace my tattoo while i have trouble falling asleep at night#f/o imagines#imagine your f/o
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can you get burnout from doing nothing
#or am i going through a mental breakdown. based on the symptoms matching whatever the past week has had going on#unless it was caused by trying to socialise online#which i am so bad at and i guess seeing other people easily be all friends with each other kind of made my brain go 😨😱😖🤯#<- along with various other surrounding emojis#i'm stuck at uni rn bc my band has 2 gigs coming up + rehearsals so i have to be here. but there is nothing to do except Think#but yeah there was the alienated fandom feeling bc idk it always feels like everyone speaks to each other in dms and has all this like#lore with each other and i have no idea what's going on#and trying to actually interact is soooooooo exhausting and i always feel like i'm too slow or behind everyone else and yeah#and then camp weehawken began and i couldn't even deal with seeing everyone doing that and all knowing each other really well and idk#so i just left tumblr briefly. bc of everything. bc i'm irrational#basically the worst feeling is when you have friends in a fandom but then your hyperfixation starts to wear off and turns out they weren't#close friends they were fandom mutuals. btw this isn't about anyone in particular this has happened for most fandoms i've been in#it was more of a sudden realisation that's been creeping up on me for years. so to deal with the fading hyperfixation i just had to Go#and now i'm obsessed with threads. which has like no fandom. so at least the hyperfixation fadeout will be easier to deal with lol#but yeah it's that sort of feeling when you finish at some place and you make some friends but once you leave you never talk to them again#and knowing you didn't really leave a strong enough impact on them that they still wanna keep in contact with you#pretty much like that#at the same time though there's nothing to do atm so maybe i am just bored and overthinking#but still it's annoying to go through especially when it's happened for almost every experience in my life#also like I'd occasionally log back into tumblr to see what's going on but i'd see people liking posts on the swag archive and it's like#cool at least people like the archives :') but anyone could've done those#idk it's like i have to do something like that for people to actually care and as soon as i'm not contributing anything then i'm just#forgettable or something#i wanna come back to tumblr but idk if my brain is ready for that dsjkljf. i told myself i'd only come back when things feel stable#but also i'm impatient lol#again this isn't about anyone specific my brain just LOVES to malfunction it's actually its favourite pasttime <3#but either way if i seem really negative lately or just. weird. it's just my brain being its classic overdramatic self#i mean the thoughts are very real and based on vaguely true evidence but also my brain loves to exaggerate things to sabotage my life#i'm hitting tag limit so anyway. at least threads isn't happening rn so that's pretty good#ramble
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you really shouldn’t call it a comeback. i have been here for years.
#ooc. your local bodega kat.#[new ooc tag new year same me new comeback.#if you’ll excuse me I have to go completely 20 tiers in ovw and see if a random cluster of partygoers I’ve befriended will switch with me#between like 20000 people and my adhd doing what adhd do.#…..no. time to bother my brother. I had some fucking cracked matches this morning.#….nope. I’m back. I started writing this post and then forgot about it at 4 pm lmfao.#I just ended up in a massive game with a bunch of random Spanish dudes????? who are on my friends list???? that I forgot existed????#I STILL dunno who any of them are but holy shit that was FUN. I love ovw it’s so weirdly social.#anyway let’s go microwave some pizza roll a j and get to relaxing after YELLING at the tv.]
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##most desired
y!vox x reader // y!alastor x reader // y!adam x reader
synopsis: two overlords and an angel who are insufferably in love with you. // she / her pronouns
beware: DARK THEMES // obsessive behaviour, heavy yandere aspects, stalking,
notes: the most y/n thing i ever made
you were one of the first overlords of hell that remained in the same rank to this day. everyone knew of you and dared not whisper your name in fear that you would come for them. they saw you in the streets or at downtown bars, sometimes at a corner table of ozzie’s. you were a mystery that preferred bringing misery.
little to no people knew of your background. it was swept under the rug to never be looked at again, and maybe lucifer helped with that. you were an angel before, way back when the rules were more strict and heaven was nothing more than a guarded kingdom.
“just one chance, y/n!” adam urged. “one date — that is all i ask for!”
you scoffed at his antics, growing used to his advances of being asked for your hand. “how many times do i have to say i’m not interested? i have work. get going before sera is on my ass.”
sera. your old boss and best friend — everything you worked towards was being at her level — instead came crashing down when you disagreed with the exterminations. adam watched you fall, but sera was the cause.
downstairs, lucifer helped cover it up. it was big talk around hell for quite some time until it was thrown under the rug and you could live in peace. while your power cannot compare to the rulers of hell, it comes close. you’re just careful of not showing that.
the radio demon always shown great interest in you — not that he knew you personally — but enjoyed your story like an old tale. while he isn’t sure which story is the real one, he enjoys the theories that you were just a hellborn that came up.
it was rosie who connected you both. she was a friend of yours, and one of the best cooks you’ve ever known.
“oh my stars! alastor! you have to come meet one of my good friends, you are going to love her!” rosie beckoned. “she is such a pumpkin and the cutest thing! oh, there she is! y/n!, over here sweet pea!” she strides towards your seated area.
you watched your friend gleefully place a hand on the man’s arm, her signature grin tugging at her lips. “this is alastor. alastor, this is y/n.”
it was nice to finally place a face to the name! he had a fondness to you from the start: sat with you at the small of your booth and chatted until nightfall, completely in awe of your welcoming personality.
but why wouldn’t you be welcoming? you are one of the main overlords, what is there to fear when nearly everyone is below you? alastor felt a sort of connection, a relation that you are no different than him.
his admiration only begins to grow from here and continues the more you interact. slowly, he becomes a part of your daily life and starts showing you off to the world that you are an “acquaintance.”
now it was no lie that your name started to spread around hell like a wildfire, especially to know your hiatus is officially over. back to the present of downtown bars and corner table at ozzie’s for dinner — your face was back up to being recognizable — and it was a wonderful change
it would not be until recent years when you would finally meet vox at an overlord meeting: his personality nearly matched yours. if not, then you both had a click that had you both in deep conversation right after.
you could imagine alastors dislike towards that interaction
“so you’re the big talk of hell, huh?” the host approached you with confidence inside and out. “my, what a pretty face! it’s practically made for television, how about we do something about that?” the moment brought your hand to shake his, vox brought you to his side with an arm over your shoulder as he walked you to your seat.
“what do you have in mind?” now, normally you don’t condone this behaviour — but he really piqued your interest. “it’s not like my face isn’t already noticed on the streets, for what reason does it need to be on billboards?”
“stunning features like yours should be shown off, and not just for the streets,” he emphasized. “here’s my card, we could talk more later, dear.”
alastor had a full front view of this interaction and a perfect angle of vox’s smug expression when he watched you tuck the card in your pocket.
now don’t get me wrong, adam has been watching.
he couldn’t let his sweetheart just go to hell like that! littered with sinners and demons and— you get the point. it was hard to recognize him with the mask he now wore, especially since he never made the effort to show himself to you.
what if you were angry at him? he seen your face fall when the topic of exterminating these wretched souls came up. he made a point to his angels that they do not touch a strand of your hair.
he can’t keep himself away from you though, not when there’s no bastards that are getting too cozy with you. his plans of coming back into your life needing to take a charge and fast.
coming down as he pleases to just see you, often keeping his mask on so no demon can see how he looks like. whisking you into the sky so you won’t be able to get away from him
he has your wings on display in heaven, don’t worry about it.
vox and alastor coming to find out someone from the heavens is coming to see you? this is by far the first time in history they will ever come into an agreement of something: no angel hands should ever touch your skin.
alastor makes it a point to constantly whisk you to the hotel, or sometimes his radio station to hide. “they won’t find you here, sweetheart! i’ll keep you safe.”
the way all three of them would become more and more possessive the more time you are with one or the other. you can’t say no, there is denial when wanting to just stay home alone. someone is always at your hip.
there is only so much time where you either kill one of them or they take you and hide forever: but forever isn’t long when adam has his angels searching for you each year.
“c’mon babe! we could go back up to heaven, i’ll pull some strings!” adam often confides.
“we could rule over hell with no one to undermine our power if we took the chance!” vox would persuade.
“we could hide forever and live however you desire if you just take my hand.” alastor chimes.
having these 3 men after you is something you do not want, especially when their obsession levels keep rising. at this rate, murder is an option. it’s only the matter of time.
#ᥫ᭡.#hazbin hotel x reader#vox x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel imagine#vox imagine#vox x yn#vox x you#hazbin hotel vox#alastor x yn#alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#adam x reader#adam x you#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel yandere#hazbin hotel adam x reader
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Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.
A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰
WC: 3.8k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers
Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️
Divider credit to @saradika
“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”
“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”
You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down.
“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”
He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.”
He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them.
“I’m serious.”
Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”
“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint.
“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?
“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”
He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office.
Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again.
Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground.
You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner.
What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone.
Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl.
Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates.
“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”
Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”
Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around.
Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.
The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe.
Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves.
“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing.
“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination.
Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though.
A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.
“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman.
Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction.
You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen.
Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone.
The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”
“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”
A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”
Eddie smirks. “One…two—”
Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits.
Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself.
Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land.
His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though.
Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?
Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk.
In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside.
Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit.
“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”
“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you.
“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”
“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds.
“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”
“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”
He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”
“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so.
“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”
A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”
“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”
“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”
Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”
“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”
He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey.
All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—
A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”
“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”
“Don’t care.”
Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies.
Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs.
Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately.
“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.”
You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch.
Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter.
“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you.
The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice.
One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible.
“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”
He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom.
The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.
“Get the fuck out!” you hiss.
Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.
Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.
“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.”
Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them.
Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”
You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind.
“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle.
A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”
“Only for you,” you echo.
He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”
The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror.
When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.
“Atta girl,” he praises.
At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”
The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle.
He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”
You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip.
“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading.
“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached.
“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”
You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.”
Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl.
One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles.
“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”
He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you.
Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him.
A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.
“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.
“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”
Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in.
The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.
“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had.
Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”
A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.
“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”
A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can.
“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”
You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”
Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur:
“You read my mind, Beautiful.”
--
#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut
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