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drvscarlett · 28 days

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Let Him Cook pt5

Charles Leclerc x MasterChef! reader

A/N: I'm really so happy with all the love that you have given to this fic. I enjoy writing about it, let me know if you have any blurbs or scenarios that you wanna see. This series will continue on and on

Let Him Cook Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minseok-smaus @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej @weekendlusting @janeholt3 @evie-119 @leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13 @itsjustkhaos

lec lerc challenge

"As you all know by now, Charles is planning to launch his own ice cream store"you started talking to the camera "And you know what funny story, he didn't even tell me"

Charles, who was by your side, was laughing like a hyena. He actually wanted it to be discovered on the the first day of April so everyone might think its a prank but then he will announce that he is very serious about it. It was an elaborate prank on top of prank. However, the news sites got a hold of it earlier.

"That's another story time. We have to get down to business" Charles reeled the topic back to the video that you two are making.

"Okay so in order to test Charlie's knowledge about ice cream, I have here ice creams that I made myself" you explained.

In front of the two of you were 10 paper cups. They have been covered on top so that Charles won't get a hint about the color.

"So my main task is to identify what's the flavor of the ice cream"Charles confirms "Easy"

"I made some unconventional flavors to throw you off" you informed him.

You can't help but giggle as you remember how you made some weird flavors for the ice cream. But hey, this was supposed to be a challenge to see if Charles' taste buds are working so it doesn't necessarily have to be a delicious ice cream.

"Okay, I am ready to scream for ice cream"

The first five cups were easy peasy. It's common flavors such as chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream, caramel, and pistachio.

"I'm good at this mon amour"

Charles is pretty confident now. Time to throw the curveballs.

"I'm excited for you to try this"you excitedly give him the cup.

Since Charles is blindfolded as he does this challenge, the first thing he does is smell it. He is usually confident upon spelling but the frown lines forming on his face suggest that he might be confused about the flavor profile.

"This feels strange. I smelled this before but I can't put my name on it"Charles notes.

He takes a scoop from the cup and tasted it. It was evident to his face that he didn't enjoy this ice cream a lot.

"That's so sour, mon amour there are definitely strawberries in that"Charles complained.

"Strawberries and?"

There was a string of italian and french word from Charles as he tries his best to identify it. Finally, he had a lightbulb moment where he remembered the taste of it.

"BALSAMICO" Charles screamed "That is not a flavor I will put in my store, definitely"

Y/NCooks posted a photo.

Y/NCooks turns out Charles is pretty good with his taste buds. Watch me test Charles with his ice cream skills [link]

User1 Atleast we know that Charles is committed to being an ice cream man

User2 Charles_Leclerc you should definitely try the bourbon and corn flakes in the menu

User 3 Highly agree, I would love to try that User4 were all acting like were so close to milan. Babes we live across the world.

LandoNorris do you have some plain ice cream left for me

Y/NCooks i have some but its good to try other flavors every now and then Lan LandoNorris mmm, i'll try that black sesame one. that seems like a good flavor Y/NCooks brilliant. message me when i can see you Charles_Leclerc im amazed how Y/N managed to convince you of different food choices

MasterChefAU is this Charles' entry to master chef blind taste test challenge?

Charles_Leclerc MasterChef Monaco soon??? User4 I'm laughing at the number of sidequest Charles has. SIR you are an f1 driver!!!

Charles the baker

Charles_Leclerc posted a photo.

Charles_Leclerc okay i did all the measurements right. WHY DID THEY EXPAND

User1 I can hear Charles screaming with the caption

User2 Charles is such a mood when I try to bake things

User3 But is it edible tho?

Charles_Leclerc it is but its not as pretty User4 this is an internet highlight wherein Charles is sulking and asking the internet where he went wrong

maxverstappen1 recipe reveal?

Charles_Leclerc no ✨✨ maxverstappen1 don't want it anyways. i just wanted to know what you did so i won't end up like that User5 MAX!!!!! User6 your honor we love the lestappen crumbs

Y/NCooks honey maybe you should consider giving it some space, bread do expand when they get baked.

Charles_Leclerc they do?? Y/NCooks Yes they do. But in all honesty they look so cute, its alright honey Charles_Leclerc love you mon amour!

SebastianVettel maybe we should have a baking session one of these days, I can teach you a lot about baking breads

Charles_Leclerc sounds good, miss you already Seb User7 oh to be Charles Leclerc having the Sebastian Vettel teaching him bread and MasterChef Y/N encouraging him

tiktok pasta challenge

It was a fairly simple tiktok viral recipe and in your mind its something that Charles will be able to follow instructions with. So you set up your camera and told Charles about a cooking challenge that he has to do.

"Today's challenge, Charles will be using his listening skills. Lets see how well he listens to me"you greeted the camera "Are you ready mon amour?"

"More than ever, I look good in an apron"

You stayed behind the camera as Charles stayed in front of the kitchen counter. He was tying up his apron and grabbing your chef hat from one of the drawers.

"First of all, I need you to quarter an onion"you instructed.

Charles was immediately grabbing the onion and you immediately face palmed yourself when Charles started quartering the onion without even peeling it.

"Honey, you are supposed to peel it" you sigh

"Honey, you didn't say anything about peeling it. We have three cameras set up and editors should replay that you said quarter it and not peel it" Charles argued

You raised your hand in defeat, you should have been more clearer.

"Okay, I'm not gonna be vague. I'll make it clear"

The whole cooking went along smoothly until its time for Charles to cook the pasta. He has been heavily stressing to get the texture right this time or else it will further the allegations that he can't cook pasta.

"Calm down Charlie"

"I am very very very calm, I'm just checking" he lifted the lid for the fifth time "They have to be perfect"

"Charles is very honored to be taught by Gordon on a 1 on 1 session"you informed the camera.

The two have exchanged numbers and Charles will often ask his culinary questions to Gordon when you were not available to answer them right away. Gordon seems to enjoy the new friendship with the driver since he often send Charles link for cooking recipe to try.

"I don't wanna be an idiot sandwhich" Charles muttered, stirring the pot of pasta.

Charles got a perfect al dente to his pasta. He pulls out the baked feta and tomatoes out of the oven then mixed it with the pasta. It seems as if the dish looks pretty especially with the garnishes that Charles insisted.

"Plating is also everything"he says to the camera as he grates some lemon zest to the plate "Whatever this taste like, just remember that Y/N was instructing me so if there is anyone to blame then its Y/N"

"Way to throw me under the bus Charles"

Y/NCooks just posted a photo

Y/NCooks The dish vs the chef. I think they are equally yummy [link]

User1 CHARLES CAN COOK!!!!

User2 alternative title charles stressing 10 minutes straight if the pasta is al dente or not

User3 The girlfriend effect on Charles is that he is now able to cook pasta

User4 I really want to try that pasta

Arthur_Leclerc i hope you never get tired of the pasta, its the only thing he will cook from now on

Charles_Leclerc i mean she loves it!!!! Y/NCooks its pretty good arthur, you should try it!! Arthur_Leclerc next family dinner? Charles_Leclerc im on it! User24 oh to be a fly at the Leclerc family dinner

User5 I think everyone ignored the caption, miss maam thirsting over her boyfriend

User6 if i was Y/N i would too Y/NCooks facts only!!! User6 Mother replied to us!!!

scuderiaferrari so charles is approved for a cooking challenge in the channel soon?

Y/NCooks he is born ready User8 kind of missed the c2 cooking challenges

everything i cooked

Charles_Leclerc posted a reel

here is everything that I did to celebrate Y/N's birthday. This isn't a common day, its really special so I have to run at 5 to get the flowers I ordered for her. Then next I cooked up breakfast which is some pancakes, thank you Carlos for the recipe. And then I surprised her with a little bit of breakfast in bed

and then I started making our lunch after clearing the table. Y/N had been craving butter chicken and I purposely did not take her so I could make some at home. Its a fairly easy recipe, I just had to mix some spices, cook the onions then you have the tomato paste and then cream. thanks Gordon I owe you one. She loved it so much.

and then I started early on the dessert for dinner. I didn't do the ladyfingers from scratch, I don't have a lot of time so yes here we are. The tiramisu is in the fridge. And then since Y/N loved the Lady and the Tramp spaghetti meatballs scene. I did my own take on it. Needless to say she loved it. So yes happy birthday once more mon amour, I love you so so much.

User10 I know we have been making fun of Charles but the man can actually cook.

User11 My boyfriend be forgetting my birthday but Charles here is slaving in the kitchen for Y/N's birthday

User12 CHARLES IS THE STANDARD!!! User14 Imagine cooking a whole breakfast, lunch, dinner, with a birthday dessert???!!! GOD I SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS

MasterChefAU Im glad to hear you are treating our girl well, happy birthday Y/NCooks

User13 OUR GIRL??!!!! Y/NCooks he is treating me well, thank you for all the greetings

Gordongram That's a beautiful dish and effort Charles!

Charles_Leclerc Thank you !!! Y/NCooks he is screaming btw Gordongram

PierreGasly when will you cook for me

CarlosSainz55 and me?? i think there is some former teammate privileges out here LewisHamilton the current teammate is also wondering SebastianVettel you boys are not Y/N. Y/N is special. Charles_Leclerc what seb said!!!

Y/NCooks one of the sweetest gesture anyone did for me. Thank you honey for making this day extra special. I don't need any five star restaurants when I have you in the kitchen.

Charles_Leclerc I love you. You deserve the world User21 Them your honor. User22 Happy Birthday Y/N, you two are excellent for each other

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff

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allforhee · 3 days

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*ੈ✩ — 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌. (BLURB) | SIM JAEYUN

୨୧ pairing — idol!jake x fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — being jake's gf, you normally tag along everywhere. every concert, every fansign, every soundcheck. but with a heavy heart, jake has to attend another fansign without you. little does he know, you're in line with the other engenes ready to give him a little surprise.

୨୧ genre — fluff, cute coupley stuff, pouty jake

୨୧ warnings — trying not to show pda, suggestiveness, written on my phone so not proofread

୨୧ word count — 1,059 words (not proofread)

୨୧ author's note — hiya lovies! so sorry for the hiatus as i was going through a pretty bad of a burnout, and had little to no inspiration to write. but finally i had time to strike up a bit of inspiration to write this fic!! hope u all enjoy a bit of jake fluff :)

“right this way, ma'am.”

as you were escorted into the venue, your heart was beating out of your chest. unlike every other concert or fansign you’d attend, you’d normally be wearing a staff name-tag with access to backstage. but here you were, hand clasping an engenebong, a vip lanyard on, clad in jake’s favorite colors.

in your other hand was a small sign that read “sim jaeyun, send a flying kiss!”

sitting alongside with the other engenes, your plan ready to be set in action.

a few days prior, jake had initially invited you to the fansign, but you declined with an excuse that you had uni homework due.

“darling, i have a fansign in a couple days, you’ll be there right?” jake asks, as he sits on your couch, snacking on popcorn as you cook dinner.

“this saturday right?” you ask, thinking of what plans you have then. but then you remember. “i don’t think i’ll make it yunie, my professor wants to have a quiz for extra marks. i’m sorry my love.” you confess, turning off the stove before coming over to him and giving him a pat on the head as he pouts.

“really? can’t you just miss a couple marks?” jake begs, still pouting.

“i’m so sorry ikeu, i’ll have to miss out on this one. i’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” you try to reason with him.

jake gives a slight nod as he opens his arms to invite you into a hug, which you accept.

that was a few days ago. you found out your professor had moved the quiz a day earlier, which meant you had the whole day for the fansign. as you were thinking of a way to tell jake, an idea popped into your head.

you picked up your phone and dialed jungwon’s number, as you explained to him your idea.

he managed to snag you a last minute vip fansign ticket, where you are now.

with you and jake’s relationship not out in the open yet, you weren’t expecting anyone to notice you, other than the members. you were more scared on how jake would react to your surprise, rather than the fans.

as your hands pick on your cuticles (by habit), the members came onto stage. with jungwon leading the way and immediately spotting you, followed by a couple others like jay, heeseung, and sunoo. jake on the other hand, seemed out of the moment, but he was trying his best to hide his sad facade.

sunghoon and ni-ki were trying to cheer him up, before sunghoon took a glance in the crowd and saw you in the second row, holding your sign. he gave a knowing smile, as he signaled to ni-ki to look at where he was looking. he immediately spotted you as well.

as the members gave their opening greetings and interacted with the fans for a while, they sat down as the fansign begun.

the fans started making their way, and as you were in the second row, you had to wait a while to talk to the members.

you had one minute with each member, and jake being the last member, you had enough time to calm your nerves.

as your queue number was called out, you sprayed the last bit of perfume, before walking over to the first member, jungwon.

he gave you a high five and a wink, signifying that your plan went really well, “noona! you made it! did my ticket work?” he asked.

“well i’m here so yes it worked! i’m so excited but anxious to see jake though.” you sighed.

jungwon gave a smile as he was signing your album, before the staff had to escort you to the next member.

heeseung gives you a smile as he laughs at what you’ve done.

“you know, jake has been whining on and on about you not coming to today’s signing.” he laughs.

you giggle at his statement, “has he? well i’m as excited to surprise him today.”

heeseung smiles at you before signing a little smiley face at your album, and the staff calls you to move to the next seat.

as you move through the next members, jay, sunoo, ni-ki, with similar responses, as you were finally arriving at sunghoon, you were scared jake was gonna notice you.

sunghoon saw you and immediately gave a smile, knowing your plan. although jake was sitting next to him, he was too enthralled with keeping his mood up to notice you.

as sunghoon was signing your album, you whispered, “hoon, what should i say to him?”

sunghoon smiled and said, “just be yourself, you’re his girlfriend after all.” as your time ran out and you stood up.

the second you sat on that seat, you opened your mouth and asked “so, do you like holding all those girls’ hands?” as you lift up your right hand.

jake lifted his head up from signing your album, eyes slowly widening as he realizes who’s sitting in front of him.

“darling? is that you?” he asked, his voice nervous.

“yes yunie,” you assure him as you take of your mask, “it’s me.”

he takes your hand in his, as he puts it on his cheek, feeling your touch.

you laugh at the cute interaction, smiling the whole time.

“but you said you wouldn’t make it?” jake asks, his pout disappearing and a light blush taking its place.

“i have my ways.” you hint at him.

as you two were holding hands as jake was signing a heart on your album, the staff signaled that time was up, and that you had to return to your seat.

jake held your hand one last time, before he tugged you and whispered in your ear, “meet me after this, okay?” he winks, before letting you go.

you smile to yourself on the way back to your seat, as a couple fangirls call out to you, as you hear some things like;

“girl did he hold your hand the entire session?”

“no way what did he whisper to you?”

“how are you not fainting right now? are you okay?”

you walk past them ask you put your mask on, and sit down lifting up your sign.

jake immediately spots you and your sign, before throwing a flying kiss. you really were his number one supporter.

taglist; -

back to my masterlist?

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wileys-russo · 2 months

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r is a (new) worker in a cafe leah is a regular in. one day leah comes in with a few friends and some fans rush towards them trying to take photos or autographs. eventually the pile of people just kinda grow and block the entry . r sees this and shoos the group of people off for blocking the entrance. and leah is just there standing with that signature smirk admiring this girl who she's never seen before that's just saved her and her friends some time when leah is ordering she talks to r, thanking them for shooing the people off. (+ some teasing and friendly banter and stuff ) they have a small talk before leah's order comes in and she goes back to the table her and her friends in. before leah and her friends leave the musters up the courage to talk to you one more time, asking for your name, your number anything she could use to know you better. r teases leah and says something like "if i call you am i gonna just be 'one of your girls'?" something among those lines. sorry if this is a bit boring but i tried. i love your work btw keep it up!! you're doing amazing🙏

no p2 to this! just a cute little blurb one of your girls II l.williamson

"-and obviously you know how this works?" evelyn, your new boss, chuckled as she patted the top of the large espresso machine. "i certainly hope so." you grinned toothily, the older girl still walking you through it all quickly anyway.

"well, thats the tour over then. jobs yours!"

you survived your first few days unscathed, your work ethic and natural confident charm had you well liked among your coworkers and earned you regular hours as customers were showering your coffee with compliments.

the small cafe wasn't overly busy of an afternoon so you found yourself rostered mostly on mornings which you didn't mind, happy to start around five if it meant you could be home not long after lunch time and have the rest of your day as your own.

being one of the only cafe's on the street meant you had a large handful of repeat customers, and with your memory one of your best assets you knew most if not all of their orders off by heart by the end of your first week.

which is why your curiosity was peaked one morning when a group of girls you hadn't seen before came bundling in around seven in the morning, all in matching uniforms you assumed they were on a team of sorts but sports had never been of a great interest to you.

when your friends and peers were running around kicking a football or playing tag you had your head buried in a book or challenging someone to a card game, you were quite introverted until your teenage years and it wasn't until you left school all together that you came completely out of your shell.

as they all took turns ordering you clocked that there was a handful of different nationalities among them, australian, irish, british and something european you couldn't quite place.

they were all friendly enough though, two of them a blonde and a brunette leaning against the counter speaking with you as you made their coffees with a smile, all ordered at once under the same name.

"so which one of you is katie?" you questioned with a quirk of your eyebrow, the brunette sending you a grin. "that would be me, haven't seen you round here before though. you new?" katie questioned, irish accent thick and the grin never dropping from her face.

"could say that. been here a little over a week though and never seen any of you." you smiled back, leaning your head back a little as you frothed the milk and moved the wand out, hot steam flooding your vision.

"ahh see this is our regular spot but we've been jetsettin. famous footballers and all that!" katie winked as you hummed and the blonde beside her rolled her eyes.

"ignore her, if her head and her ego get any bigger she won't fit through the door!" the blonde nodded behind her as you laughed and katie pushed her.

"ah shove off russo. see ya round then new kid!" katie winked again, grabbing one tray of drinks as the blonde grabbed the other and sent you a smile, the other girls following out after them.

surviving the morning rush not long after you were taking a well earned break and sipping at a coffee of your own though you stood as a group of teenagers burst inside, their chatter filling the previously quiet room.

plastering a smile on your face you slipped your coffee beneath the counter and readied yourself to take their orders. as they rattled them off almost all at the same time you did your best to put them through, only missing two as you read them back.

half the group taking a seat a few of the girls hovered by the machine as you moved to start their order, your coworker dipping out back to toast the sandwiches ordered alongside the drinks.

"do you ever get arsenal players in here?" one of them asked as you gave her an odd look. "i don't really watch sports much, sorry." you shrugged honestly, that answer seeming to displease her as she frowned.

"like arsenal women, the football team? any of these girls?" you flinched back a little as another one of them shoved a phone in your face, eyes narrowing as they roamed the team photo in front of you, recognizing a few of the girls with katie this morning.

though sensing maybe there was something a little off with the request, you again shrugged. "don't really remember sorry, we get a lot of people in here, especially on a tuesday morning." you smiled politely as again the girls frowned, turning away from you as you focused on filling their order.

"all done!" you smiled as you slipped the last coffee into the tray, rolling your eyes as they grabbed them and gave you a weird look, hurrying over to their table.

it wasn't hard to know you'd been mentioned once or twice in their conversation as heads frequently turned to glance at you and you pretended not to notice, suddenly feeling like you were back in high school again.

you perked up as the bell for the door rang and a new group entered, but your eyes flickered over to the girls already sat down, recognizing one of your new customers to be in the same uniform as katie and her friends.

sure enough the moment the girls noticed they were up to their feet, crowding around the footballer who smiled politely and took a few photos, but you could see in her eyes that her smile never made it all the way there.

it would seem word traveled fast as within a couple of minutes a second group of teenagers appeared and you watched the blondes polite smile turn to a frown and though you couldn't hear what she was saying, you could see it wasn't being listened to.

brushing your hands off on your apron you hurried around the counter and toward the front door. "hey! if you're not a current customer, out." you warned sternly, raising your voice at the group and nodding for the blonde footballer to step inside.

"i said current." you repeated, blocking the second group of teenagers from entering as the blonde and her friends made their way to the counter. "our friends are in there, we're with them." one of the girls pointed out.

"your friends were just leaving, since their drinks and food are finished." you nodded to the empty plates and discarded takeaway cups sat on the table they'd abandoned.

"you can't kick us out." the girl from earlier frowned with a scoff. "i'm not kicking you out, but we have every right to deny service to people who don't know how to act with respect." you raised an eyebrow.

"and harassing footballers who are just trying to get a coffee doesn't sound very respectful, does it? they're humans too, so how about giving them a little privacy. feel free not to come back!" you nodded for them to move on after that, ignoring the insults thrown your way as you closed the door and headed for the counter, your coworker already taking their orders.

"nicely done, talk about an attitude problem." the girl chuckled as she handed you the order slip, sending you a wink and ducking out back as you sighed with relief it didn't seem you'd be getting in any sort of trouble.

"hey, thank you for that." you looked up to meet a confident smile and a set of bright blue eyes looking back at you. "no problem, but does that happen a lot?" you asked with concern. "more than i want. especially in the last year since the euros!" the blonde sighed with a slight chuckle.

"not a big sports fan, you might need to elaborate on that." you admitted with a smile, the blonde raising an eyebrow with a surprised look. "you don't know who i am?" she questioned but seeing the look on your own face she clearly rethought it.

"jesus that sounded self-absorbed. let me try again, i'm leah!" she held her hand out with a grin, you shook it and introduced yourself back.

"so, you're new around here right? i come at least four times a week with the girls normally and i've not seen you. i'd have remembered!" leah leaned against the counter, confident smile plastered back on her face again.

"seems to be the common theme. let me guess, you've been out of town jetsetting?" you chuckled as leah gave you an odd look. "some of your teammates were here this morning, katie said the same thing." you revealed as leah hummed thoughtfully.

"also seemed to like to think of herself as a big famous footballer, but she wasn't shocked i didn't know her though." you teased as leah playfully rolled her eyes.

"how about i take you for dinner as an apology?" leah asked somewhat hopefully, even surprising herself with the forwardness of her request. "so i can be one of your adoring fangirls? thats cute. but i don't date customers, leah." you smiled, sliding over the tray of coffees

"did you see me order these? they're not under my name, technically i'm not a customer." the blonde smiled charmingly and you shook your head amused at her persistence.

"mm you're drinking them here though? customer." you smiled back, nodding to her friends who were already sat down at a table eating food.

"it was nice to meet you leah, i'm sure i'll see you around."

turns out, it was a lot sooner than you thought.

that afternoon to be exact as you were out walking your best friends dog, having agreed to babysit her precious fur baby while she was away at a wedding for a few days.

you watched with an amused smile as bear raced after his ball, laughing as he nearly fell over his paws, the poor puppy growing at a rate which he couldn't seem to keep up with.

you jumped in surprise as suddenly a dog sprinted through your legs in a flash of tan fur, taking off after bear as you heard a groan behind you. "bella! come here, sit, stay, heel! oh fuck whats the word again?" you looked up to see a flash of blonde dart past you next.

"bear!" you whistled noticing the new dog sniffing him curiously, the chocolate labs head whipping toward you as you whistled again and he took off toward you, the new dog following eagerly after him.

as bear dropped in a sit by your feet you squatted down and carefully grabbed the new dogs collar, the owner racing over toward you as you checked the tag, bella.

"well aren't you lovely." you smiled, scratching behind her ears as she licked your hand making you laugh. "bella! we do not lick strangers its impolite." you looked up with a smile which was wiped away as bella's owner looked down.

"wow are you stalking me? crazy fangirl." leah tutted with a smirk as she clipped bella's leash back on and you scoffed. "i'm sure you'd like to think so, but i haven't even given you enough thought to google your last name." you hit back as she gasped and held a hand to her chest, bear running off again as bella tried to follow with a whine.

"my poor ego, that hurt." leah sighed with a shake of her head as bear returned, dropping his ball at your feet as you clipped his own leash back and slipped the ball into your pocket.

"i'm sure it'll recover when the next adoring fan asks you for a selfie. maybe next time i'll leave you to the wolves and just do my job." you smiled, starting to walk off as leah was quick to fall into step with you.

"you mean you're not a security guard?" leah spoke with mock surprise as you hummed. "only a lowly barista." you pouted sarcastically, bear and bella also walking in step.

"might be in the wrong profession, you're proper scary." leah smirked poking at your arm as you pushed her gently, not missing the sarcasm in her tone at the obvious height difference between you both, the blonde easily two heads taller.

"didn't see you complaining about the coffee so i don't think i've missed my calling." you laughed as leah shook her head. "wouldn't know, i had the hot chocolate. not the best i've had!" the blonde shrugged as you scoffed.

"well if you can run on a football pitch like you can run your mouth i'm sure you're just as famous and successful as you think you are." you hit back though the smile on your face betrayed the false offence in your tone.

"oh even more so! best in the world." leah stated dead seriously as you both exchanged a glance and her face broke into a grin, bumping her shoulder into yours.

"well. we're not in your workplace so i'm not a customer, can i take you to dinner? i'd ask you out for coffee but i don't drink it and i'm sure you think you're just as good at making it as i know i am at football." leah smirked and despite the cockiness you could see just a flicker of nerves in her eyes as you both stopped walking for a moment.

"are all footballers this insufferably self absorbed?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow. "only the really really talented ones." leah grinned cheekily, beanie sitting lopsided on top of her head as you smiled.

"fine, dinner. so i guess i have to give you my number then lily." you pulled your phone from your pocket. "leah." the blonde corrected as you exchanged numbers.

"oh was it? just such a forgettable name and face." you shrugged, both of your walking resuming as leah hummed. "cute." the blonde retorted with a smirk and a shake of her head.

"i am. and by the end of dinner maybe i'll have humbled you just enough that i might tolerate a second date with...sorry was it lucy? layla? luna?" you pondered with a frown as leah shoved you with a grin.

"leah."

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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formulaforza · 8 months

Note

💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333

—you can take it off

lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)

You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests.

Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online.

A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple.

And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours.

It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table.

“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’.

“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it.

“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up.

Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young.

“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent.

“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”

Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”

He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes.

You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year.

“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”

You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”

Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too.

You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after.

“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”

“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to.

Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”

Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”

“No chance.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.

“What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.

“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh.

“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”

Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”

He smiles, weak, lips pursed. “I could have told you that.”

The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing.

You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between.

After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand.

Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench.

He swipes his thumb over the condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”

“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.

Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”

Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?”

“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth.

“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”

“Not too old to make half a million.”

The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand.

He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does.

“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.

He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”

Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”

He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”

“Whatever you say, Mate.”

Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”

Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”

“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches.

He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles.

“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”

Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”

Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”

“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds.

“I didn’t say that, but,”

“But!” You interject.

“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”

“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”

“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.

You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away.

You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy.

You swallow.

“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”

“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”

“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”

Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”

“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”

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samkerrworshipper · 3 months

Text

between thighs

short little thigh riding quickie smut blurb lol

warnings: thigh riding, soft smut, porn without plot lol

Quickies are kind of a rite of passage when you become a professional athlete.

You claw for every single moment in which you can find time to spend with your partner, especially when your schedules are so jam packed.

That’s how you and Alexia got yourself into this position, the two of you jammed against the wall of Alexia’s bedroom with five minutes before she has to leave for an event.

You’re still in the first few months of your relationship, still navigating how to balance work and life, having Alexia looking all dolled up to go out on her night off for the week did things to you, things that had ended up with you pushed up against the plaster with Alexia’s lips mouthing at your neck.

“Ale-Ale, not fair, you have to leave soon.”

You’re mad that you don’t get to accompany her, that you don’t get to galavant around with Alexia. Actually you’re more mad that you won’t get to fully appreciate Alexia in her current outfit. She’s in a skintight pink dress, a piece that you aren't even aware was in her closet until she walked out of the wardrobe with it clad to her body. Whilst you aren’t a big fan of events, you’d push past your social anxiety for the opportunity to ogle at Alexia for the night.

No words would describe just how wet your panties had suddenly become when Alexia waltzed out of her wardrobe, dressed to the nines and looking mouth-watering, your cunt all of a sudden soaked with the sight.

“Lex, what the hell?”

Alexia’s head cocked, a little smile in the corner of her mouth whilst she toyed with the hem of her dress. Your eyes are dragging up and down the pink mesh kind of material that sinches Alexia everywhere.

“This little thing? It’s from my clubbing days.”

You roll your eyes at the way that Alexia implies that she is beyond her partying days, your summer in Ibiza would argue that claim heavily.

“Little is definitely a way to describe it, not leaving a lot to the imagination Lex.”

Alexia blushes, her awkward self shining through as she tries to pull the hem down, all for it to stay put where it was.

You stood up from your seat on the edge of your bed, walking your way towards your spaniard.

“No need to be shy, I’m just jealous that I don’t get the opportunity to appreciate this number fully.”

You bite down on your lip, closing in on Alexia with your voice dropping a few octaves as you speak.

Alexia’s brow lifts in questioning, her hair tilting with her head as she looks you up and down. Whilst Alexia is completely done up, you are quite the opposite, your hair is scruffily mounted on top of your head in a bun, instead of a tight dress you are in a tank top and a plain pair of silk pyjama shorts.

“Jealous? You know I’m only going because it’s opening night and I promised Alba I’d be there. A night that you had an invite to.”

You roll your eyes, groaning at Alexia’s explanation.

“I might have reconsidered had you given me a sneak peek to your little outfit earlier on, are you sure you can’t be a little bit late? I’ll make it worth your while.”

Alexia stares down at you, as you try your hardest to convince her with your pout. She brings her hand up to your cheek, her fingers are long enough to stretch from one end of your jaw to the other, she traces the soft lines of your bones and face, her eyes following her fingers.

“I won’t be late, there are a couple of minutes until Mapi is supposed to be here.”

You nod your head dutifully, standing up on your tiptoes so you are able to pull Alexia into a kiss.

For a few seconds it’s soft, the two of you falling into your normal rhythm, Alexia is pushing you up against the wall of the bedroom, her hands pinning your hips to the wall and slotting her knee in between your legs whilst her tongue explored your mouth and lips.

“Ale-Ale, not fair, you have to leave soon.”

You tried your hardest to grind down on Alexia, but her two hands were big enough to keep you pinned to the wall, unmoving completely.

“You’ve got three minutes, that’s all you’re getting, you can’t touch me and you can’t mess with my outfit, you touch or mess with anything and we stop, understood?”

You nod your head, your mind now completely set on how to achieve your own release.

“Go ahead then babygirl.”

Your hands are nudging at Alexia’s almost immediately, pulling them from your hips so you can slip your shorts off of your ass, leaving you naked in front of Alexia.

There isn’t time for you to be insecure, you instead push yourself off the wall, nudging your way away from Alexia’s knee up to the muscular part of her thigh.

You leave a trail of wetness as you move up and down, your desire spreading up and down Alexia’s olive skin.

Alexia’s lips move to your neck, allowing your mouth to gape open, big deep guttural moans exiting your mouth as you grind up and down Alexia’s skin.

You’ve done it before, but every single time you are once again met with Alexia’s thigh you have to rediscover and locate the different ridges and muscles that felt best against your sensitive clit.

It’s not as good as how fingers or a toy would feel, but it’s something, and something is definitely better than nothing.

“Lex, please, more.”

Alexia’s lips continue at your neck, it’s helping with getting you close but you aren’t sure that you are going to be able to get off solely just from Alexia’s thigh.

“My thigh or nothing, two minutes bebita.”

You nod your head, it’s not the answer you wanted but the upside is that once Alexia is done murmuring against your neck her lips return to your pulsepoint, sucking down hard and undoubtedly leaving a deep red mark.

You force yourself down as hard as you can, allowing gravity to take the reins as you remove the pressure from your feet, relying on Alexia’s muscly quad and your core balance to hold you up.

It’s not the best thing you’ve felt, but with the mixed sensation of Alexia’s mouth, leg muscles and hands on your hips, her fingernails gripping into the bones resting below your skin.

You know that you are on a clock, so you hone in on the sensations, focusing on all of the different things you are feeling.

Raking your eyes up and down Alexia’s outfit of choice seems to be enough, it’s like a rush of endorphins hit your bloodstream as you look at Alexia’s body and all of the features that are being displayed to you.

Your thoughts of lust are shattered by the sound of knocking at the door, Alexia’s lips lit from your chest.

“Are you close, bebita?”

You nod your head furiously at Alexia, pressing yourself down as you nudge your clit hard against one of the particularly accentuated muscles in Alexia’s thigh.

“Quick, Maria’s here and I don’t want to keep her wanting, or walking in and seeing something that belongs to me.”

The possessiveness definitely sends you directly towards the edge, the urgency of your situationship coming to light.

“Ale, fuck, going to cum, Lex I’m coming.”

Alexia’s mouth presses itself to your own, silencing your moans whilst your body spasms against her own body, your pussy pulsing against her warm and wet skin.

As soon as your cunt has stopped spasming and your limbs are reconnected to your brain Alexia lifts you off of her, dumping you unceremoniously onto the mattress of her bed whilst she rushes into the bathroom to clean herself up.

“Drink some water bebita, you don’t have to wait up for me, I'll be back late.”

The pool between your legs is enough of a motivation to stay awake for Alexia, even if it means suffering for a couple of hours.

“I’ll be up, have fun, you look amazing Lex.”

The banging at the door has only grown louder, Alexia is tugging on her shoes aggressively whilst trying to make it out of the door. You enjoy the sight from your spot sitting on her bed, your body covered in the sheets.

“I will, text me if you need anything and no touching without my permission, wait up or sleep, I love you.”

You nod at her, snorting as Alexia clips the corner of her doorway whilst trying to make it out of the room. A string of curses leave her mouth, her body lurching forwards and out of your sight, undoubtedly towards the door to stop Maria’s insistent banging.

You think about the feeling of her cold, big, stong hands on your hips, the heat still spreading from the marks she’d sucked into your neck and the pleasure spread across the apex of your legs from Alexia’s thigh that had fit so perfectly between your own thighs.

#woso #woso community #barca femeni #alexia putellas smuttt #alexia putellas is mom #daddy alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #la reina #woso imagine #woso smut #woso one shot #woso blurbs

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powderblueblood · 5 months

Text

HELLFIRE & ICE masterlist

life in hawkins, indiana is bittersweet for an eighteen year old like you. up to this point you've enjoyed your reign as the resident rich bitch ice queen of hawkins high. you glide above the student body with an impenetrable grace— until the IRS comes knocking and your family loses everything that makes you you; the money, the super-trendy clothes, the people you called friends. you're forced to trade your plush suburban life for a double wide in forest hills trailer park— directly across the lot from resident hellfire king and noted freak, eddie munson. you've got plenty of reasons to hate him, but number one with a bullet? his daddy put your daddy in jail.

pairing: eddie munson x f!oc, mentions of unrequited steve harrington x f!oc and unrequited jonathan byers x f!oc, platonic!nancy wheeler x f!oc, platonic!ronnie ecker x f!oc

tags: NSFW / MINORS TURN BACK NOW! f!oc is written in the immersive second person; she does have a name and a background, but no physical description is mentioned in the text. enemies to star-crossed lovers on a slow burn setting, angst, misunderstanding, yearning, swearing, smoking, drinking, era-typical classism/sexism/homophobia/sexual harassment, smut including but not limited to voyeurism, masturbation, public sex, discussion of crime that i pull out of my ass kind of, really mean jokes, eventual fluff (i promise). extremely canon divergent with references to flight of icarus.

ready to light this place up?

❦ - SERIES

❦ - chapter one: THE POISE, LUCK and INTEGRITY OF A KENNEDY

❦ - chapter two: VIOLENT DELIGHTS at HARRINGTON'S HOUSE

❦ - chapter three: EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)

❦ - chapter four: HOT SKIN and a HALL PASS

❦ - chapter five: CHEERLEADERS MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS

❦ - chapter six: IN MY ORBIT

❦ - chapter seven: WELCOME to the REAL WORLD, JACKASS

❦ - chapter eight: SEWN UP

❦ - chapter nine: EDDIE the OBVIOUS and the LADY SPHINX

❦ - chapter ten: THE NEW FACE OF FAILURE

❦ - chapter eleven:

❦ - chapter twelve:

❦ - chapter thirteen:

❦ - epilogue

❦ - BLURBS N SHIT

in-universe requests are open for business

flashback - LACY'S DAD GETS ARRESTED

flashback - EDDIE MUNSON STAMPS NICOLE SUMMERS' V-CARD (NOT A BOARD WAXER, NOT IN MAUI)

what if - EDDIE FOUND LACY'S JOURNAL

what if - LACY FOUND EDDIE'S WEIRD SERIAL KILLER WRITING SCRAPS

lore - ALL ABOUT THE BOOKSTORE

blurb - EDDIE HEARS LACY HAVING A SEX DREAM AND...

blurb - EDDIE TELLS LACY HOW HIS PARENTS MET

blurb - LACY VISITS HER DAD IN PRISON

blurb - FOUR TIMES YOU WERE STRUCK INCAPABLE OF IMAGINING YOUR LIFE WITHOUT EDDIE MUNSON

blurb - YES, NURSE RATCHED

blurb - THE BANDANA

blurb - EDDIE FS CASS FINNIGAN IN THE A

blurb - THE LACY AND JONATHAN OF IT ALL

❦ - FUN STUFF

soundtrack - VOLUME ONE

#hellfire & ice #published by powder #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder #masterlist

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cupid-styles · 3 months

Note

Ahhhh I need more hockey!harry 😍 I need a whole back story to how they met, when he started teasing her and for what reason and how they end up together. It’s soo good, I especially loved the jealous blurb, I need more! ❤️

ahhhhh thank you cutie!!! here's a blurb on how they met and got to where they are now

also tysm to cutie @harrysonlylover for this collage!!!! this v much represents their relationship <3

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: none!

masterlist | talk to me

hockey h x ballerina!yn masterlist

patreon

. . .

Things between Harry and Y/N weren’t always like this.

In fact, maybe in another world, they would’ve been friends. Even lovers, perhaps, but that may be pushing the envelope just a tad. They’re both third years, which means they started at the university at the same time. They attended all of those silly orientation meetings and events alongside one another (and few hundred others) that are designed to make incoming freshmen feel more comfortable, but in reality, just make things awkward and cringy.

(Harry remembers visibly recoiling when he was told to come up with a fun fact, and they weren’t allowed to say anything about their majors or primary sports.)

(He ended up going with the fact that he was born in London, which their orientation leader, Lisa, was far too interested in — an annoying amount, really. He thinks she tried getting with him at the bonfire that evening, but Harry was so exhausted he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend like he knew what she was getting at.)

But Y/N was in his orientation group, actually. Years later, he still remembers how strong her legs looked in her shorts and the way she tied her hair up with a velvet scrunchie (it was in the middle of July, and the heat was sweltering, sunrays pelting them straight into their backs and necks). He doesn’t recall what her fun fact was, but he does know that they were paired up for some dumb icebreaker activity. In an effort to get them better familiar with the campus, they had to do a scavenger hunt which, to Harry, felt like cruel and unusual punishment considering the rapidly increasing temperature. They were instructed to fill up their free, university-sponsored water bottles and get to work, returning back to the post before 5 pm, where they’d be having some sort of barbecue situation.

At first, Harry thinks she’s shy. Well, she is — she’s quiet and doesn’t say much besides a soft “thank you” when he offers to run her water bottle over to the refill station. She’s focused on the task at hand, though he can both tell that they would rather poke their own eyes out than do it.

“Let’s take a break,” Harry decides, not 20 minutes in. It’s mainly because his eyes zero in on a shady area on the quad, a semblance of shade offered by a large oak tree. Y/N, exhausted herself, doesn’t fight him.

She sits cross-legged in the grass, her posture near impeccable as Harry lays down, fixing his sunglasses into his curly hair.

“Have you decided on a major yet?” Harry asks, desperate for some sort of small talk — normally, he doesn’t care for niceties, but the near-silence between them is killing him, considering how hot and bored he is.

“I have a ballet scholarship.” she answers simply.

“That’s cool,” he nods, though he doesn’t know a single thing about it, “I didn’t know this school was big on ballet.”

He notices the way she wrinkles her nose, eyes squinting slightly.

“It’s one of the top dance schools in the country, only behind performing arts universities.”

“Oh. Nice.”

Y/N attempts to shake away his ignorance, head cocking to look down at the male laying at her side. “And you? What are you majoring in?”

And Harry doesn’t really mean it, but it comes out without him even realizing it. It’s just— no one’s asked him that in years, but only because where he’s from, everybody knows he was the top hockey player in the city, number five in the state. Nobody ever expected Harry to go to school to study anything because it was always known that he’d go for hockey.

So, he snorts. He actually, physically snorts, and the look of apparent disgust is immediately clear on Y/N’s face. Parting his lips, he instantly wishes he can take it back, especially when she straightens her posture to sit up a bit higher.

“I’m sorry, I— I’m here for hockey,” Harry flounders, sitting up on his elbows. “I have a hockey scholarship.”

“And was I supposed to know that?” Y/N fires back with narrowed eyes. He shakes his head.

“No, of course not.”

“Right,” she says, standing from the shady oasis and brushing her hands over her bum to get any grass off of it, “Let’s finish this.”

. . .

Harry was wrong about Y/N.

He thought she was shy and quiet, maybe a bit mousy if anything. But no— it turns out, in the few hours that he’s known Y/N, if she doesn’t have a taste for someone, she’ll make it known. It’s not even in outwardly mean ways, it’s just passive aggressive, like dismissive hums at his every attempt at conversation, or him pointing out the ballet studio on their walk through the campus center. He even says “oh, wow, it looks beautiful,” hoping to pet at the excited, passionate part of her personality, but instead, she ignores him.

She ignores him.

So when they finally finish the stupid scavenger hunt, Harry couldn’t be more eager to be done with it. He tells her he’ll submit the papers to their orientation leader so she can go fuck off and find whatever friends she’s made, and she does, without even a bit of arguing. It makes Harry sigh as he’s walking back to the big barbecue event in the quad. He feels bad for his cocky response — he didn’t even mean it, and it came off so arrogantly that she would probably forever associate him with it until they went their separate ways.

He has a hockey thing tonight — the rest of the team that aren’t first-years are already back on campus, practicing and gearing up for the start of the season, so the coach invited him to come meet everyone — but he can’t shake how shitty he feels about someone already hating him. He decides he’ll offer an olive branch of cheese fries (he opts out of a burger or hot dog, just in case she’s vegetarian). He spots her sitting at a table in the same shady spot they were in earlier, two other girls by her side as they chat. From here, she looks happy, engaged in casual conversation with people she could’ve met today or known for years — he really can’t tell.

When he makes it over to their table, he expects Y/N to at least look up at him, some sort of recognition in her expression, but instead she just looks… confused? Bored?

“Hey,” Harry greets awkwardly, feeling that their conversation immediately took a pause due to his presence. He places the cheese fries down on the table. “I’m sorry again about today. I don’t want that to be your first impression of me.”

Based on her demeanor, he doesn’t expect a gracious response; if anything, a lackluster “it’s fine” would have sufficed. But instead, her eyebrow quirks and she cocks her head to the side.

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

It hits Harry in the gut.

He flounders, his lips parting open and closed like a fish gasping for air. He collects himself a moment later, pressing his mouth into a tight line.

“You’re right. Must have confused you with someone else,” he replies with a clenched jaw. “Enjoy the fries anyway.”

His legs quickly carry him far away from the table and in the direction of the hockey arena and locker room. He hopes he can pull some skates on and at least shoot around a little, because if he ever has to see that girl’s face again, she’ll have hell to pay.

#bestie asks #writing #hockey h #harry styles #harry styles writing #tags are tedious

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cannibalizedyke · 2 years

Text

Forever

Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader

Word Count: 781

Warnings: Mentions of Reggie again 😒, mild angst ig but like not really

Summary: You and Five realize you're quite a bit more than best friends.

General Taglist: @caladrius103

Five Hargreeves Taglist: @dragon-master-kai, @justbookworm

Moots: @iheardarumorthings (who gave me the idea for this hehe), @thewritingbabe, @scandalous-chaos, @ddejavvu

Five Hargreeves is not an easy person to win the favor of. He’s pretentious, disagreeable, and overall seems to rather dislike everyone he lays eyes on. Everyone, it seems, but you.

You don’t know how you did it, really. You don’t know what it was about you that so struck Five Hargreeves’ fancy, to such an extent that he took you with him everywhere, even when he traveled to the future. You’re clumsy, and impulsive, and disorganized and inattentive and anxious - all qualities that when you first met Five, seemed quite the type of traits that would make him immediately dislike you. But somehow, things happened the opposite.

Five was not turned off by your chaos, but rather intrigued by it; he found himself wanting desperately to be around your cheerful carelessness, and it confused him as much as it did you. Perhaps it was your similarities to his brother Klaus, and the astonishingly different way you handled your shortcomings, or just how sheerly you contradicted his very being, with your bouncy, bubbly way of living and his surly, cynical, irritable manner. He couldn’t spend a day without you.

And so, that’s why you are where you are now, 58 years old and stuck in your 15-year-old body with the only man you’ve ever loved, trying desperately to stop an apocalypse that your former employers are determined to make happen. Typical best friend shenanigans, right?

“Five?” you say, lying on your back on Five’s bed and blowing a frustratingly stubborn strand of hair away from your face.

“Mhm?” He hums in response, as he so often does when preoccupied with something else. He keeps his eyes on his chalkboard of a wall and continues scribbling furiously, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“How did we end up here?” you ask, sighing out a bit of a sad laugh.

Five lets out a sigh of his own, setting down his piece of chalk - which is beginning to look more like a stub - and leaning his forehead against the faded black porcelain. “I don’t know.” He laughs bitterly. “I suppose it’s because I’m too foolish to see past my own hubris.”

“No, Five.” You walk over to him, gently pulling him away from the board and into your arms. “No, no, Five, no. You were a child, okay? You were curious and stubborn just like all children are. Your father treated you like you were older than you were, so you felt like you could do anything at far too young an age. And when he told you you couldn’t, he acted as if it was a failure on your part rather than a natural part of being a child. Don’t blame his shortcomings on yourself.”

You hear a whimpering sort of gasp, and with a mild sense of alarm, you realize Five is crying, that the wetness gathering on your shoulder is coming from his tears. You push down your shock and run your fingers through his hair, stroking him softly till the whimpering quiets to a quiet, uneven sort of breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I know how much you like this sweater.”

You let out a watery laugh, realizing you’re crying yourself. “It’ll wash out.”

“Lord, (Y/N),” he says, sounding almost in amazement. “I’ve known you since… forever. I genuinely can’t even begin to imagine my life without you.”

“Well, I feel the same way about you,” you reply. “You’re my best friend.” Somehow, though, that label doesn’t feel quite right.

“No,” he murmurs, pulling away to cup your chin in his hand. “We’re much more than best friends.”

And suddenly his lips are on yours, softly moving until neither of you can take it any longer and it becomes desperate, for nothing and everything all at once. Your hands find their way into his hair, and his curl around your waist, and you no longer feel like a person who’s kissing their best friend. You feel like one half of a whole, finally complete in the arms of your soulmate. You kiss until your chest burns from a lack of oxygen, and then when you pull away for air you hold him in your arms, unwilling to let go until you have no other choice.

“I love you,” you tell him, quietly like a secret only he’s allowed to hear. “I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to tell you.”

“We’re idiots, that’s why,” he cracks, a small smile on his face, and you can’t help but laugh in response.

“You aren’t wrong.” You kiss him softly again, savoring the feel of his lips against yours.

“I love you too,” he says softly as you part once again. “Forever.”

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tsimvkas · 5 months

Text

one kiss is all it takes — jude. blurb #2

You love going to Jude’s games. Watching your boy doing what he loves, vibrating with every right pass and chances he created, losing your mind over every goal of his.

Even though you need to do it as a fan.

You’ve been dating Jude for five months now, and since the beginning it was agreed between you that keeping the relationship a secret would be better.

And you’re glad you did it. His world is so different from yours, that being in the eyes of the public before truly bonding with him could've taken away the love of your life. You’re sure you wouldn’t know how to deal with all of it, the fans and the press.

Now, Jude has been talking about telling the world that his heart has an owner now. “I want them to know I’m compromised, I’m a grown man in a serious relationship with the prettiest girl in the world” was his argument to convince you.

He’s not a grown man at all. And you told him that. “You only have the size of a grown man”, and he rolled his eyes at you. But you know what he meant.

Even though he’s still twenty years old, Jude is living a grown man’s life. Being a star in one of the biggest clubs in the world, assuming a new level of responsibilities and now dating — something he thought would take a while to happen.

He feels like a grown man, and he wants to act like one, demonstrating his love for you in public, taking you out for dinner instead of eating at home, and bringing you to Bernabeu so you can cheer for him with his shirt, and everyone will know you’re there only for him.

Last night you agreed about having a public relationship. “We don’t need to announce” you told him. “But we don’t need to hide either”

He kissed your entire face while you giggled, leaving a few kisses down your jaw and neck before getting up and running to his suitcase.

You traveled with him for his away game, illegally sneaking to his hotel room to chat with him. When he came back to bed with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“New kit for you” he gave you the shirt. His shirt, with his number and name. “For you to use tomorrow”

And you obeyed. Now, you are doing what you enjoy the most, observing him whilst Jude runs the entire field.

First half was goalless and a bit boring for sports fans, but you had fun following him with your eyes. Then, right when they came back from the break, Jude scored.

He celebrated like he always does, opening his arms like he owns the world. To you, he does.

He was praised by his friends, like he deserves.

And then he gave a silly smile before blowing a kiss with his hand. To you.

It felt like your heart was about to stop from how fast it started beating. A lot of faces turned to you, but you discovered how less you cared about them when your man was looking in your eyes.

You blew Jude a shy kiss, but it was enough for him, happiness spreading through his body for finally being able to dedicate a goal to you.

With teary eyes from emotion, you watched the rest of the game. Unfortunately, Real Madrid conceded a goal and they were coming back home with a tie, but you were still so happy that not even this could kill your mood.

When you finally got to see Jude you ran to his arms, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and humming when held you tightly against his bare chest.

“Nice goal, don’t you think?” he murmured and you pulled your face away just to see his cocky smirk. Combined with his shirtless torso, you know it’s a pretty dangerous smile.

“How do you manage to be cute and hot at the same time?” you snorted, making Jude giggle and peck your lips. “Stop, I’m being serious. It’s unfair with the rest of the world”

Jude kissed the tip of your nose, stroking your cheek in a way that was melting your heart, before murmuring against your lips.

“If that’s how I conquered you, then I don’t care if it’s unfair”

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #jude bellingham fluffy #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you

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corroded-hellfire · 6 months

Note

Okay following Honeymoon, I have some questions...

When do we find out?

How do we find out?

Is Eddie with us when we do? If not, how do we tell him?

How to we tell everyone else?!?

All your questions shall be answered! @munson-blurbs and I had a great time exploring this happy time in this little family’s life 💜

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of Eddie’s breeding kink, age gap, older!eddie

Words: 4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The day after you and Eddie returned home from your honeymoon, Ryan and Luke begged to stay home from school. At dinner last night you had told them all about it—well, the appropriate parts anyway. Now, their excuse was that they missed you both and wanted to spend the day with you.

“How about this,” Eddie said as a counteroffer, “you go to school for two days, then you can spend the next two days after that with us.”

“But…today’s Thursday. We only have two more days of school this week anyway,” Luke had said.

“Well, look at that. Sounds like it was meant to be.”

The boys huffed for a bit but then they started to notice the two of you acting a little off. You’re making sure their lunches are packed before they’ve even finished breakfast. Eddie practically has their outfits picked out for them and tells them to get changed before they’ve even swallowed the last of their oatmeal. He also shoves a glass of water into your hand and gives you a look that neither kid understands.

“Is this what they’re gonna be like now that they’re married?” Luke mumbles to Ryan as they’re zipping their coats up. Ryan just shrugs and rolls his eyes before grabbing his backpack.

“Have a good day at school!” you call from the front door as the boys walk towards their bus stop on the street corner.

“We love you!” Eddie adds. Ryan gives a half-hearted wave in return.

As soon as the boys are set at the bus stop, talking with their friends from the neighborhood, you close the front door and you and Eddie practically race each other to the bathroom.

“Okay, so I bought seven tests,” Eddie says as he fishes out the bag from the pharmacy that was stored underneath the sink.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. “How much do you think I can pee?”

Eddie shrugs and starts to open the first pregnancy test. “I bought seven. Ya know, like the number of kids I want to have. Ow! Don’t hit me, that was a joke!” He sets the first test down on the counter and picks up a second box. “Technically, you’d only need to have five.” Eddie smirks and raises an eyebrow as he turns around to look at you. The glare you’re giving him tells him that you’re not impressed. “Don’t find that funny, babe? Huh, maybe you are pregnant, and the hormones are already raging. Before you hit me again, that was another joke!”

You grab the two tests Eddie’s already taken out of their boxes and head over to the toilet. Your husband is just casually leaning against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Are you really going to watch me pee?” you ask. It’s not like you’ve never peed while he was in the same bathroom before. But now he’s just staring at you as you push your pajama pants down and it’s making you bladder shy.

“I need to know if I’ve knocked you up or if I have to try again before I leave for work,” Eddie says.

“I don’t need supervision, y’know.” You make a shooing motion with your hands and Eddie gives an overdramatic roll of his eyes before stepping out into the hall.

You take a deep breath, then another, before unwrapping the tests from their foil packages. You could be carrying Eddie Munson’s baby right now, you think, and your hand trembles with excitement and trepidation. This is what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw Eddie interacting with his boys, sweet and patient and silly. And now, you might be having his baby.

No sooner do you place the used tests on the sink and flush the toilet does Eddie barge into the bathroom. He’s wide-eyed, gaze immediately shifting to the white sticks.

“Are you pregnant?” He asks, unable to read your facial expression. “Shit, you’re not, are you? It’s okay, we can keep at it—”

“Eddie,” you interrupt with a wry smile, “it takes ten minutes to get a result.”

“Well, how long has it been?”

You glance at the watch on your wrist and set the alarm, letting out a terse laugh. “About thirty seconds.”

Your hands are still shaking as you wash them. You hear the water running, and you can feel it on your skin, but you’re almost numb to it. Trying to play it off, you remain on autopilot as you dry your hands with a towel, but when you bring your thumbnail between your teeth and start to bite, your husband picks up on it.

“What’s wrong?” Worry creases his brows, and he takes your free hand and laces his fingers with yours.

“I…we just got married, Eds. And now we might be having a baby? It’s a lot, and I’m kinda scared…”

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheek with his calloused palm. “We just moved into a new house, so we have the room. Money won’t be too much of an issue—especially with all the checks we got as wedding presents.” When you still appear unconvinced, he changes his tactic to appeal to your emotional side.

“I know it’s a lot at once. But I know you want a baby, too. How many nights have we stayed up talking about it?” There have been too many, spent with Eddie brushing his fingers over your stomach and talking about how he can’t wait until the most beautiful woman is having his beautiful baby. Not to mention the countless times he’s been deep within you, begging you to let him get you pregnant. “And you’re not in it by yourself. You happen to be married to a man who’s raised two pretty great kids, who—believe it or not, were babies at one point. And you know they’ll want to be our little helpers. Everything is going to be fine, sweetheart. No matter what the test says.”

He wraps you in his arms and you both slide down and sit on the bathroom floor together and cuddle up. You rest your head on Eddie’s shoulder, and he puts a hand on your knee.

“Y’know,” he says, “the boys are going to lose their minds if you are pregnant. They haven’t stopped talking about when they’re going to get a new sibling.”

You smile. “Think they’ll help change diapers?”

“Maybe Ryan. You’d have a better chance of getting Luke to eat Brussels sprouts.” Eddie chuckles, placing his hand on your stomach. “I can’t believe we might’ve made a little souvenir on our honeymoon.”

“I don’t think I’d have symptoms that early if we made a souvenir,” you point out with a giggle. “This was definitely more like a pre-wedding gift.”

“Huh. So, Maybe-Baby Munson was technically at our wedding with us.”

“If I’m pregnant, then, yeah. Most likely.” Your fatigue could be jet lag, your missed period could be from wedding stress, your nausea could be from Eddie’s cooking attempts, but all three of them together? Could it all be a coincidence?

The two of you are so caught up in each other and the conversations you’re having that you don’t even realize how much time has passed. The shrill ring of the alarm you set startles you, and you jump in your husband’s grip. You manage to push yourself up from the floor on shaky legs, and Eddie stands up beside you.

“I…” you trail off, wringing your hands nervously, “I can’t look.”

“Well, I can,” Eddie says, to the surprise of neither of you. He steps towards the counter while you take a step in the opposite direction, closer to the shower.

Eddie picks up the first pregnancy test and beams down at the little white stick. He picks up the next one just to be sure, and the confirmation of the first positive has his impossibly wide grin getting larger. The excitement has Eddie’s heart pumping so loud in his chest he’d be surprised if you didn’t hear it. His hands shake as he slowly sets the tests back down, as if they're precious cargo.

He turns to see you not even facing him. You’re staring at the shower wall, hands still nervously fidgeting in front of you. Taking the few steps to close the distance, Eddie slides his arms around your middle and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Hey, Mommy.”

Those two words have broken any semblance of composure you had. The tears are instantaneous, hot and thick as they roll down your cheeks.

“I wanna see,” you say, slipping out of Eddie’s arms to look at the positive pregnancy tests yourself. The two pink lines on each of them staring back at you feel surreal. As if this is just some joke and someone scribbled on them with a pink marker. “Holy shit, I’m going to be a mom.”

You turn to Eddie and practically leap into his arms. He catches you with a chuckle and squeezes you just as tightly as you’re squeezing him. A few moments pass like that—both of you just holding one another as you take this new information in. You know it’s not going to sink in for a while; how could it? This was something you’d never thought would happen in your wildest dreams. The man you used to wait to see just for a few minutes a day between him coming home after work and you leaving for your apartment is now the father of your baby. It makes you dizzy with excitement.

Eventually, you both release the other from your crushing grips. Eddie cups your jaw with his large hands and presses a soft and sweet kiss on your lips. It conveys all the love and happiness that is swimming throughout his body. His hands slide down from your jaw, down your chest and stomach, coming to a stop on your lower abdomen.

“Can’t believe our baby’s right there,” Eddie muses, gently pressing his palm against your stomach. There are a few moments where both of your hands explore the area of the body that will be growing the most over your pregnancy. Eventually, Eddie tugs you in closer to him so your chests are pressed together. He dips his head and captures your lips with his own.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby daddy.”

Keeping your pregnancy under wraps until the second trimester was easier said than done, especially around the boys. Your morning sickness was enough to draw suspicion, and while Luke was satisfied with the reassurance that you hadn’t contracted scurvy, Ryan wasn’t as easily swayed. You’d been tempted to let him in on the secret just to ease his worries, but your own anxieties about first trimester complications took over.

Now a few days into your twelfth week of pregnancy—with a prenatal scan under your belt—you’re ready to share the news.

“Luke! Ryan! Come to the living room for a sec!”

The boys nervously trudge onto the carpet. Ryan’s twiddling his thumbs, and before you can reassure them that they’re not in trouble, he blurts out, “It was Luke’s idea to flush the remote down the toilet!”

Luke gasps, blindsided by his brother’s betrayal. “You said it could be a science ‘speriment!”

“Boys…” you start, already feeling a headache brewing behind your eyes.

“Hang on, babe, I wanna hear this,” Eddie interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches his sons implicate themselves.

“And then Ryan told me that if I ate apple seeds, a tree would grow in my tummy, and I got scared and that’s why I keep hiding the seeds under my bed,” Luke hurries to explain, cheeks turning pink as he says it all in a single breath.

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Well, that explains the mystery smell.”

You try to refocus their attention, clearing your throat and sitting up straighter. “Boys…you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately?” You wait for them to nod before continuing. “Why do you think that is?”

“Daddy’s bad at cooking?” Luke ventures, earning a head shake from his dad and a stifled laugh from you. “It is scurvy, isn’t it? I knew it!”

“No one has scurvy! If I hear that word one more time, I’m banning all pirate movies from this house,” Eddie exclaims, obviously eager to reveal the news.

You put a hand on his knee to silence him. “And I know you’ve noticed I’ve been a little more emotional too.”

“Like when you cried when I made a sandwich the other day?” Ryan asks. Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the way you’d been overwhelmed with sadness at the thought of him growing up and independently making lunch.

You don’t want to start bawling again, so you wordlessly hand over the panel of ultrasound photos.

“What’s this?” Luke’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He points to your name in the top left corner. “Did you take this? It looks like a weird bean.”

Ryan scoffs at his little brother. “No, it’s one of those pictures that people get when they’re having a baby. Wait…” The oldest Munson son looks up from the paper clutched in his grip to the two of you on the couch in front of him. His wide-eyed expression has you giggling and a warm tingling sensation bubbles up in Eddie’s chest.

Luke is still confused, however. He keeps staring at the black and white image as if he’s trying to find Waldo.

“Whose baby is it?” he asks.

“Mine and your dad’s, silly goose!” You lean forward and lightly dig your fingers just above the little boy’s hip—his most ticklish spot.

“You guys ready for another brother or sister?” Eddie asks.

His father’s words have Ryan breaking out of his trance. He launches forward and wraps one arm around your neck and one around Eddie’s. Both of you can sense that he’s too emotional to speak, so Eddie just pats his back while you rest your head against his.

“Yeah!” Luke answers Eddie’s question. “I’m gonna bring them to my basketball game on Friday!”

“Um,” you say with a chuckle as Ryan maneuvers himself to sit on the arm of the couch next to Eddie. “The baby’s gonna need a little more time than that, sweetie.”

Luke shrugs as if this is only a minor inconvenience. “‘S’okay. I have another game next week.”

“When is the baby gonna be here?” Ryan asks, dimples out and on display as a sign of his excitement. He still has the ultrasound photos in his hand and keeps sneaking peeks at them.

“The doctor said I’m due October 7th,” you tell them as you rest one hand against your belly. There’s hardly a bump yet, but the instinct has been strong to protect the baby in you. It was a conscious effort to not draw any attention to your midsection by holding it in front of the boys—though you doubt they would’ve noticed anyway.

“Aw, man!” Luke pouts, dramatically flopping down onto the living room carpet. “That’s forever.”

“Don’t worry, bud,” Eddie says as he slips an arm around you. “We have lots to do to get ready for a new baby.”

“Yeah,” you agree, snuggling into your husband’s side. “You have to learn how to change a diaper!”

That has Luke pushing himself off of the floor and heading for the kitchen. “Nope, I’m out.”

“Okay,” you say to the boys as the sound of Wayne’s dilapidated truck chugs into your driveway. “Grandpa’s here.”

“Remember,” Eddie says, ducking in towards them and lowering his voice as if Wayne would be able to hear him from outside, “we’re gonna act nonchalant.”

Ryan frowns, looking up from where he was smoothing down his blue t-shirt that has the words BIG BRO emblazoned on it in bold black letters.

“We’re gonna act no-chocolate? What?”

Eddie shakes his head, fighting back a smile. “Just means we’re gonna act cool, okay? Calm. Natural, like this is just another Sunday he’s coming over to have dinner.

“And not like we have the most awesome secret to tell him!” Luke projects his voice around the small kitchen and both you and Ryan shush him. The youngest Munson—as of now—pinches up his face and sticks his tongue out before looking down at his own t-shirt. It’s green and has MIDDLE BRO splayed across the front of it.

There’s a knock on the front door and Eddie goes to answer it. Ryan is bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He’s constantly had to stop himself from telling every single person he talks to about the baby. It warms your heart to see the pure joy this is giving him, though.

The groaning of the front door opening and the thud of it closing again lets you know Wayne’s inside the house. Two heavy treads make their way into the living room, and you hear Wayne release a content sigh as he takes a seat.

“Where my boys at?” Wayne asks.

In the kitchen, you give both of your sons a thumbs up before nodding your head in the direction of the living room. Excitement—and hormones—well up in you as you watch the boys leave the kitchen. You trail behind them, eager to see Wayne’s reaction to the news.

“Grandpa!” Ryan crashes against him on the couch and inhales the familiar scents of menthol cigarettes and oil stains as he buries his face in his neck.

“How’s my Ry?” Wayne asks, hugging his grandson with one arm and ruffling his honey brown hair with the other.

“Hey Grandpa!” Luke calls. “What do you think of my shirt?”

Eddie groans and drops his head into his hands. He has to remember to have a conversation with Luke about what “nonchalant” means. Stepping over to your husband, you pat his shoulder while you fight a smirk on your face.

It doesn’t seem to click with Wayne right away, though. He sits back on the couch and his brows furrow together in confusion.

“Middle?” he says, wagging his finger in front of Luke’s shirt. “But you don’t have a…” Wayne drops his hand back down to his lap, mouth hanging open. His eyes go from Luke’s t-shirt to Ryan’s, seeing if his clothes are sending the same message. When his suspicions seem to be confirmed at what he sees there, Wayne’s eyes roam over to where you and Eddie are. His eyes are misted over, and it takes everything in you not to let the hormones breach the floodgate.

“Is there gonna be another Munson to chase after?” Wayne asks, the emotion causing his voice to waver.

Both you and Eddie nod in confirmation, matching grins on your faces. But neither of you gets a chance to speak before Luke pipes in.

“Yeah, but not ‘til October. And that’s so far away!” Luke throws his arms in the air to show his exasperation.

Wayne stands up from the couch and immediately envelops Eddie in a giant bear hug. “I am over the moon for the two of ya,” Wayne says, opening his arms to you. “Congratulations.” Luke tugs on Eddie’s arm as Wayne wraps you up in his warm and fatherly embrace.

“Is that gonna hurt the baby?” Luke asks, eyeing the show of affection with hesitancy. Eddie swears he could melt right here and now at the concerned look on his youngest son’s face—concern for you and your new baby.

Eddie has to clear the emotion out of his throat before he speaks. “Nah, bud. Baby’s nice and protected in there, don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” Ryan seconds as he steps up beside his dad and brother. “You just have to be careful once they’re born. Don’t wanna drop them on their head like Dad did to you.”

“Ryan,” Eddie starts, but needs a moment to reign in the laughter that wants to come exploding out. “That’s not funny and it’s not true!”

Wayne huffs a small laugh and speaks softly so only you can hear.

“You know, Eddie was dropped when he was a baby…”

You stifle a laugh as you look over at your husband. He’s jumping around the middle of the living room with the boys, the three of them fighting like they’re ninjas.

“That explains a lot.”

The last group of people you’ve been waiting to tell is the Harrington family.

Your shirt is a bit oversized; there’s no evidence of a bump just yet, but you’re still paranoid about showing.

Danny, Theo, and Natalie burst into the room, excited that Ryan and Luke are there to play with. Steve shushes them softly.

“Amelia is asleep,” he reminds them.

“Pretty sure she’ll sense that I’ve come over and awaken from her slumber,” Eddie jokes, causing Steve to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, Munson, she almost wet herself in excitement when we told her you were coming by.”

“Really?” Eddie asks.

“No.”

“I don’t like your attitude, Harrington. Think I’ll just head down the hall and wake up my favorite four-year-old.”

“I will tackle you before you reach the bathroom,” Steve threatens.

Natalie rolls her eyes—looking identical to her father as she does so—and puts her hands on her hips.

“Boys,” she complains.

The Harrington kids drag Luke, Ryan, and Eddie into the playroom to show them their new video game. Steve dutifully follows, claiming that he’ll supervise gameplay, but you and Nancy both know that the day will end with the grown men battling it out over Mario Kart.

“You’re pregnant!” Nancy excitedly whispers as soon as the two of you are alone. It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and it catches you off-guard.

“What?” You’re not sure whether you should play dumb or not—the reason for this playdate was to tell them the news. “How did…how do you know that?”

She shrugs. “I’ve gone through this four times. I have a sixth sense for it now.” She’s beaming from ear to ear as her reporter instincts kick in and she begins launching questions your way:

“How far along are you?”

“Any morning sickness?”

“What other symptoms are you having?”

You answer them one by one, excitement pulsing through you with each reply. There’s beauty in being able to enjoy this journey with others, especially someone who’s been through it before.

You take a deep breath, finally relaxed now that the nervous energy has dissipated. “Okay,” you smile, “now we can tell Steve.”

“Munson told me before the pee stick could dry,” Steve calls out from the other room. There’s a whine from Danny, to which Steve responds, “no, it’s my turn to be Bowser!”

Nancy can sense your flusteredness, and she puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she says with a laugh, “Steve called Eddie first with each of my pregnancies. He probably knew before I did.”

You giggle at the thought of Steve tripping over his feet to let Eddie know about a new baby before even celebrating with his wife. “I’m so glad I’m not dealing with the two of them on my own.”

“Us mamas have to stick together.” She reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water. “First tip: no matter how much water you’re drinking, it’s never enough. Gotta stay hydrated.”

“You and Max might be my lifelines for motherly advice,” you admit, cracking open the cap and taking a swig. Nancy, of course, is right; you hadn’t realized how thirsty you were until you started drinking it.

“You already have plenty of experience.” She gestures to the room where the kids are. “They adore you, and your baby will, too.”

“You think so?”

“Call it mother’s intuition, but I know it.”

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

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freedomfireflies · 6 months

Text

Wake the Dead*

Summary: An iFall for Harry blurb for Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where you and Harry sneak into an abandoned cemetery at night.

And things get a little spooky.

Can be read as standalone!

Word Count: 2.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Har…Harry—”

“Shh. Gonna scare the ghosts, ladybug.”

You pout playfully while Harry grins and continues his vivacious sucking on your neck. “Har...what if we get caught?”

“Then we run.”

You whimper deep within the back of your throat, sighing when his tongue darts out to swipe under your jaw. “We’re...we're gonna be late. What if Patrick comes looking—”

“He won’t,” Harry retorts calmly, tightening his hold on your hips while continuing to grind you down against his cock. “Now hush, you’re ruining my fun.”

Left with no other choice, you oblige his request. Eyelids growing heavy with lust as you look off into the dark, empty cemetery. The sound of the wind echoes between the trees; an ominous addition to your frantic and somewhat lewd make out session. Yet despite it all…you feel at peace.

It had been Harry’s idea to come for a leisurely stroll through the cemetery in the first place. Claiming it was perfect Halloween fun – and he knew a shortcut.

But five minutes later, he had you down on his lap, his hands under your shirt, and his tongue tangled with yours.

Not that you really care to complain. You enjoy the spookiness and the secrecy. After all, you don’t always tend to get such private moments with a man whose face is plastered on almost every billboard across the world.

But in times like tonight – when it’s just you and him – you realize how badly you need them.

And how grateful you are that you texted that wrong number all those months ago.

“Har,” you whisper again, fingers tangling in his roots as you tug. “Baby, there’s cameras—”

“So?”

“So,” you exhale, “if they recognize you, you could get in trouble.”

Harry merely hums. A soft, dangerous sort of sound while his thumbs swipe beneath the swells of your breasts. “Don’t care.”

“Well…you should—”

“But I don’t,” he repeats coolly. “Only care about you.”

You feel your insides twist. “Just…don’t want you to get in trouble.”

He smirks at this. Amused with your nerves and enamored by your care. He leans back, now nudging his nose against yours. “I won’t, baby,” he whispers. “S’nothing wrong with me lovin’ on my girl, is there?”

You smile yourself. “No. But that’s not all you had in mind, is it?”

His grin grows a bit more wicked. “I don’t know. Depends.”

“On?”

“If you like an audience.”

Confused, your brows furrow.

He nods his chin toward the dark graveyard before you, gesturing at the headstones with a devious gleam in his eye. “Heard ghosts like to watch.”

Now you understand, chuckling beneath a quiet breath as you readjust yourself over his lap. “Is that right?”

“Mhm. Kinky little fuckers.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, not that I really mind,” he continues, nuzzling his way back to your neck. Dancing a trail of kisses down to your shoulder. “Kind of feel bad for them, y’know? Bet they never see any action anymore.”

Your lashes flutter. “Yeah…”

“We’d probably be doing them a kindness.”

“Mmm…”

“Let ‘em watch…let them listen…let them feed off your pretty, little screams.”

He suddenly tugs on your hips, forcing your cunt against his hardened cock, and it makes a breath hitch in your throat.

“Guess…guess you’re right,” you exhale, head rolling to the side. “S’only fair.”

He smiles. “Guess it is.”

You whine again as his cold hands smooth across the expanse of your stomach, easily slipping down to your waistband. “Har…”

“What?” It’s a gentle hum but filled with concern as his eyes flick to yours. “We don’t have to, baby, I promise. We can leave right now and go back to the hotel, yeah? Finish what we started there. Honest.”

It’s a kind thought. Considerate and so very Harry that it makes your heart wrench.

But it’s not what you want, and you begin to giggle quietly as you shake your head and lace your fingers around the back of his neck. “No, I don’t wanna go. Want you to fuck me – right here – and let all the ghost’s watch.”

The energy shifts instantaneously as he bursts out into a wide, excitable grin that fills his whole face. Putting those familiar dimples on display as you kiss him hard and with an overwhelming rush of adoration.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, returning to his work of slipping your zipper down. “Okay, but we gotta be quick, yeah? Don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Wouldn’t care if I did,” you admit, fingers fumbling with his belt. “Just wanna feel you, Har—”

“I know,” he breathes, moaning some when his thumb finally finds your clit. “Shit, I know, ladybug. Got you all worked up, hm? Like it when I tease you, don’t you?”

You can say nothing, instead nodding again as you pull his cock from his boxers. He’s hard and heavy in your hand. The tip slightly swollen and sticky with pre-cum as you work him in your palm.

“Fuck—” His forehead drops to your collarbone, lips buried into the skin not covered by your sweater. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that—”

“Well, maybe I wanna tease you, too,” you retort. Watching the way he twitches between your fingers. “Know you like it when I edge you.”

He makes another noise – virile and animalistic. Tortured in a sense and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “And you think I’m the sadist in the relationship.”

You smirk. “We share.”

After a few more coy pumps, you release him, and move to wrangle your jeans further down your thighs. Creating a bit more room and space before he’s bringing his cock to you.

Steadying your stance above his lap, you rise up onto your knees, and allow yourself to sink down onto him. Slow and easy – enough for you to both feel every second.

And it’s everything – a rush of endorphins and euphoria that transcends this one singular moment. He’s the perfect stretch. No matter how many times you take him, it feels like the first. Enough to knock the wind from your lungs and make your mind grow fuzzy.

Once you’re finally sat, your arms loop around his neck, holding him to you. Keeping him warm inside your pussy as he curses and presses a kiss to your throat.

“There you go,” he murmurs, hands cementing to your sides. “You okay, baby?”

You offer another weak nod. “Yeah…yeah, m’good.”

“Good girl. Do you want my help or do you wanna do it yourself?” he asks softly, taking a moment to glance over your expression.

You suck in a needy gasp for air and glance down. “Wanna…wanna do it. I can do it, I swear.”

He chuckles gently before loosening his grip. “Okay, lovie. But I’m right here, yeah? Do whatever you want me to do.”

You dip down and smash your lips against his. Kissing him to showcase your gratitude before you begin to roll your hips and set a steady pace.

It’s relaxed at first. Enough to ease you both into it – create a desperate need and worsen the ache until you’re both whining, frantic messes.

And he allows you to create your own rhythm. Never rushing you or pulling you the way he wants. He merely wants to enjoy you. Enjoy the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your greedy cunt that sucks him in so well.

The cemetery has grown quiet. Almost too quiet, save for your anxious pants and pathetic whimpers. Occasionally a rogue crow will swoop from tree to tree, but it only makes Harry smirk. As if entertained by the reminder of where you are.

You feel his fingers move for your nipples. Tweaking them between the cold pads of his thumbs before he’s forcing your sweater higher so he can attach his mouth to the left one.

His tongue is warm – a stark contrast to the frigid outside air. But it’s perfect. Sensual and erotic as he sucks you into his mouth and moans.

Your mind falls into an exhilarated haze as you begin to bounce on him. Faster and faster, despite the ache in your joints. Needing to chase after that rush and the sounds he makes.

“So good, baby,” he praises between devious licks and harsh gropes. “Just like that. S’it feel good, lovie? My cock making you feel good?”

“Yes…yes,” you whine, head dropping back as he nips at the skin of your breast. “Harry, please—”

“What, hm?” He flattens his tongue against the aggravated skin. “What do you want, ladybug?”

You make another noise that becomes lost in a gasp, struck with a rush of pleasure from the way his cock strokes against your spongy walls.

“Is that it?” he asks, almost proudly. “Was that your little spot, honey? S’that what you need?”

You nod again and work to find it once more – angling your rolls until you feel it. “Shit…Har…feel so fucking good—”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock? Right now, let ‘em watch?”

You mewl despite his teasing. Ghosts or not, there’s something tantalizing about the idea of him doing this to you in public. No matter how crass, there’s something about it that feels almost sweet. About the idea that Harry Styles – America’s Sweetheart – would be willing to taint his reputation and throw away his anonymity just for you.

His large palms suddenly move for your ass, cupping you firmly before beginning to guide you a bit faster. Seemingly overcome by the need for release the closer he gets.

“Shit there you go…there you go, honey, fuck.” He’s groaning now – almost incoherent as his brows crease and his teeth grit. He’s so beautiful when he’s being fucked. “M’gonna cum, baby. M’gonna cum…and you’re gonna take it, yeah? Gonna take me in your pretty pussy?”

You stumble over a gasp and scratch your nails down his shoulders. Allowing him to move you exactly the way he needs as he begins to yank you all the way down. Burying himself inside your cunt until you feel him twitch.

“Keep going,” he exhales before it twists into a moan. “Fuck, keep going, lovie, m’almost there—”

“Please,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. “Shit, please, Har. Cum inside me, please—”

“God, baby. Gonna, I promise. Fucking fill you—”

“Please—”

“And you’re gonna take me, aren’t you? Keep me inside this sweet little cunt all goddamn night, yeah?”

“Harry, please—”

“Shit—”

It hits him then. Suddenly and with no warning as he releases a lewd groan and empties himself into your pussy. Wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you against his lap while he fills you with each drop he has to offer.

It makes your fucking head spin, a warmth blossoming in your stomach as you weave your fingers in his roots and pulls his head against your heart.

However, he doesn’t settle in your embrace for long, instead moving his touch down to your clit to work you toward your own release. Pinching and rubbing in small, practiced circles until you’re practically screaming. Unraveling by his hand only moments later as your pleasured sounds echo around the graveyard. Loud enough to wake the dead.

“There you go,” he murmurs, and it’s sweet like honey. Deep and comforting as he kisses your neck. “Oh, baby. Fucking soaking me, aren’t you? Can feel you all over my thighs, lovie. S’fucking perfect. Aren’t you?”

You feel your lips stretch into a lazy smile as you finally manage to catch your breath and slump against his strong frame. Allowing him to hold you up as you both succumb to the quiet night.

You feel his fingers stroke against the skin of your hips. Another quiet reminder of his adoration that makes your stomach flip.

“Did so good,” he praises, nuzzling his nose against your jaw in an unspoken attempt at asking for a kiss. He grins when you give it to him. “See? S’more fun with an audience, isn’t it?”

You laugh, eyes trailing over to the row of tombstones just beside you. “Speaking of which…do you know what a ghost’s favorite cheese is?”

Instantly, a grin is exploding across his face. “What?”

You take a beat to build up the anticipation, fighting a smirk as you whisper, “Ghoul-da.”

He groans, amused and exasperated as he tightens his arms around your waist. “God, that was your worst yet.”

“What? You aren’t scared stiff?”

“Fuck off—”

“Are you gonna boo me?”

“Ladybug—”

“Well, you better fasten your sheet belt, cause there’s more where that came from—”

“All right,” he huffs playfully, tugging you closer until you squeal. “You win. And you’re insufferable.”

You chuckle. “Maybe, but…you love me.”

To this, he smiles, and your heart feels warm and fuzzy as he guides his lips to yours.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

~ iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lydiarry @yoruse @lomlolivia @kkr102 @gills-lounge @sicklscream @white-wolf-buckaroo @brooklynbelle @stylesmoonlight12 @itjustkindahappenedreally @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

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