#the delicate beginning rush imagine

[dre6ming]

Christmas tree shopping

The delicate beginning rush

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Warnings: smut, sex, explicit content, mentions of blood, crying, bad family relationships, fluff

Word count: ~3000

Plot: Christmas tree shopping puts a small dent into your heart considering the past, so when Austin asks that you do it together, you have some holdbacks.

I love Christmas! And that's that. I've always loved it, ever since I could understand the concept of it. I adore the buzz of the crowd searching for gifts, the smell of Christmas foods, the decorations, the songs, the movies. I mean you'd have to have a big lump of coal for a heart to not like Christmas. But with all my love for this time of the year, this year I'm just not feeling it.

As I walk the crowed streets of New York all on my own, with my big fluffy scarf covering most of my face, I look around at the stores wondering where I could go next, dreading going home, where Austin waits for me so we can go Christmas tree shopping. When he proposed the idea that we go together, I just nodded and smiled, but in my heart a big hole was being uncovered. I used to go Christmas tree shopping with my dad, some of my favorite memories with him, are of us choosing a tree, setting it up in the living room and decorating it together. Those were some of the best hours in the whole year. But then the divorce happened right before Christmas, no one bought a Christmas tree, I didn't even bother decorating that year, I stayed over at Timmy's house, then the year after that, was mine and Austin's first Christmas together, but he was with his family and I went again to Timmy's house.

This year though, he wants us to have a Christmas together together. He suggested that we spend it over at his LA home, but Christmas is supposed to be cold and wet and snowy, not sunny and hot, so we are going to have a small party at my apartment on the 25th, until then he wants all the Christmas stuff to be done. Which I'm more than happy to do, but I was hoping we'd get a fake tree from Amazon or something.

I feel my phone vibrate in the pocket of my coat and I know I can't ignore him, or he will get worried, so I sigh, taking the phone out and answering the call. "Hi, Aus! I'm still looking at a few shops, they've got really nice things out here, I bought some stuff." I lie, having not bought even a single thing. "Don't worry darling, I was just checking in, what do you say, I come get you with the car and then we go to the Christmas tree market?" He asks so sweetly, it hurts my heart. "Um actually I don't know, I don't think I'm gonna be much longer, so just wait for me back at the apartment." I hate the anticipation of the disappointment in his voice. "That's fine Y/n, just be safe, I love you!" I close my eyes and rub my temple with my free hand, feeling a headache creep it's way to me. "Love you too!" I cut the call short and keep walking, smiling as I spot the rusty old sign from Frank's record store.

As I enter the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, hits me, soft jazz playing in the background. The store looks empty today, except for Frank, sitting behind the counter, reading a book. As the door bell rings he looks up from his book and smiles at me, getting up to come hug me. "Hey kid, haven't seen you in a hot minute. Though I've heard plenty of you. I never knew fruitcake makes you sick" he laughs, referencing my latest album, a Christmas ep called fruitcake. "Very funny!" I giggle, unwrapping the scarf from my neck and undoing some of the buttons on my coat.

"Well I've been busy, but I'm home for the holidays." I say, looking around, skimming through some of the new records he has in store. "Hm I bet you're busy, touring arenas and all. Hey kid look what I have here." Frank says as he goes to the back and brings out a mysterious vinyl. "It's a first edition. A mix done on vinyl in the 90's, all your favorites are on here." He explains, replacing the vinyl he had one with the new one he brought. "Last Christmas I have you my heart.." the song starts playing and I start singing along.

"Want some hot cocoa?" Frank asks, putting the closed sign on the door, as I take of my coat to be a bit more comfortable. "Of course I want some, extra-" "-Whipping cream, I know" he finishes my sentence, making both of us laugh. As Frank goes to make the hot cocoa, I take my phone out and text Austin.

Me

Hey, something came up, I'm over at Roxy's place. Can we reschedule?

Austin

Sure, hope everything is alright. Love you 💜🧶

Me

Ofc, love you too

I hate lying to him, but I just don't feel like having a therapy session right now. "Hmm perfect!" I smile taking the cup from Frank and drinking some of the delicious hot beverage. "So any big plans for Christmas this year?" He asks, and I start telling him all about the dinner me and Austin are hosting for friends and family.

Before I knew it I had spent a few good hours over at Frank's store and then I had to call Matt to come get me with the car and drive me back home, as it had gone dark outside. So now I'm in the elevator, watching the buttons of each floor light up, until we get to number 10. I walk in and the whole place is quiet, no sight of Austin or any cats, so I guess that he must be sleeping. Tiptoeing to my room I find Austin sleeping on the bed with Simba and William cuddled up to him. Walking into the closet I try to make as little sound as possible and I start to take off my clothes.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around me and I let out a small scream, startled for a moment. "Shh it's me" Austin whispers against my ear, kissing down my neck, I lean into him and reach my hand back, to comb through his thick hair. "It's ok.." I moan as he sucks the skin right above my collarbone. His hands travel down my abdomen and unbutton my jeans, his right hand sliding down between my legs, into my underwear. "Austin.." I sigh, putting all my weight on him. "Shh, don't talk." Austin says

He's skilled fingers work me like magic, his left arm tight around my waist holding me up, as he plugs a finger into me. I gasp, fisting his hair, as he moves slowly inside me. "Shh no talking." He repeats, after I try to moan his name again. This is something we've never done before, he usually likes me talking during sex, and he encourages me to be vocal, but this time he wants me to be quiet.

I'm lost in my train of thought and don't realize the moment he pulls his hand away and picks me up, taking me to the bed. "Aus?" I ask concerned as he removes my jeans but not my panties. He looks at me, but there's no tenderness like before, he looks mad? "No talking." Is all he says, as he takes off his clothes and puts on a condom, getting on top of me. "Aus baby, is something wrong?" I ask touching his face. A faint smile crosses his face and a glimmer of something sweet shows up in his eyes. My heart beats at a thousand miles per hour and I'm aroused as ever, but something is off.

"Nothings wrong, I just want to feel you." He says, kissing me, his hands going back to their ministrations. We move in sink and I reach behind me to unclasp my bra. Austin's hands go immediately to my breasts, kneading and pinching my nipples. "Fuck!" He grunts as I sneak my hand down and pump his cock, touching his tip to my covered pussy, wishing right now there was no thin layer of cotton between us.

"Please!" I beg as his head nudges at my wet pussy, brushing against my clit, sending electric shocks up my spine. "Fucking hell!" Austin curses, guiding his hand between us, to push my panties to the side, quickly sliding into me. I wince in pain, as he usually takes his time opening me up, but this time he seems to be in a hurry. His lips find mine and he swallows my whimpers. When he's all the way in, he stills and waits for me to give him the ok to move. After a few moments of sitting like this conjoined, with my legs around his waist, my hand in his hair and his around my waist, something changes, something in him, he starts feeling warm and soft, unlike the cold stiff feeling he was giving me before, it's like he melts into me.

His hands moves up my body, wrapping tightly around me. "I'm sorry!" He says in a broken voice. "It's ok, doesn't hurt anymore, please move." I say caressing his cheek, encouraging him to pull his hips back. When his pelvis meets mine again, fireworks sparkle behind my closed eyelids. Austin starts a slow pace, each time going deeper and deeper if that were possible. The room is filled my muffled moans and skin slapping noises, as both of us feel closer and closer to the sweet release. "Shit Austin, I need more, please!" I beg arching my back to give him a new angle.

Austin groans in my ear and picks up the pace, placing one hand behind my head on the pillow and the other on my clit, rubbing slow circles. "I love you! I love you so much!" I say, feeling closer to my orgasm, my walls spasm around hid twitching cock. "Fuck!" His voice sound strangled and he moves faster, sloppier. "I love you I love you Iloveyou!" I say over and over again and over again. He keeps his moves fast and rhythmic, I curl my toes and pull on his hair, my orgasm wrecking through my body, tingling head to toe. Austin keeps moving until I feel him tens and he cums moaning into my shoulder.

We sit a few minutes tangled together, breathing in sink, his heart thudding against my chest. The  without a word, Austin pulls out, leaving me empty, getting up and going to the bathroom. I'm left staring at the ceiling, wondering what this whole experience was just weird. I sit up in bed and wrap myself in my fluffy robe, getting up, going to the kitchen to drink some water.

I keep thinking what just happened, I can't imagine what must have happened to make Austin act like this. It's not that the sex didn't feel good, it did, but it felt like he was somewhere else, or at lest trying to be somewhere else. "Are you hungry ?" I jump at Austin's voice, dropping the glass of water on the floor. Without thinking I try to reach for the broom, to clean this up, but I step on a shard of glass. "Aw, fuck fuck!" I let out, holding onto the counter, lifting my leg up to see if the cut is bad. It's only a small shard, so the cut is barely a graze, but blood is already coming out of it. "Don't move!" Austin warns, walking around the broken glass and water, coming next to me. He puts both hands on my waist and lifts me up on the counter, the going to clean the mess I made.

We sit in silence, as he cleans and I feel the blood dripping down my foot. When he's done, he goes away and I start thinking if he just left me here, which I know is stupid, but my brain can't stop making weird scenarios up. "Show me your leg!" Austin says, kneeling down in front of me, cleaning my wound and putting a bandage over it. "All done!"

"Are you mad at me?" I ask at the same time as he speaks and he blushes, looking the other way, avoiding my eyes. "Where were you today?" He asks and as I open my mouth to answer he interrupts me. "Don't lie, Roxy came over, thinking you were here." I sigh and jump off from the counter, ignoring the pain in my leg. I wobble a little bit, despite my best effort, so Austin puts his hands up around me, ready to catch me if anything were to happen. I look him up and down, thinking about what I could say, I could just tell him the truth, but I haven't really told him much about mine and my dad's relationship. He waits patiently for me to answer and the way his arms are still around me, like waiting for a hug, makes me want to melt right into him, but I choose the childish part of me, pushing him away and walking past him.

"Did something happen?" His voice sounds like an echo and for a moment I feel like he didn't even speak and it was all my imagination. I turn around slowly, looking at his face, his eyes are read, teary. "Aus-"

"I know you weren't at Roxy's place, you didn't answer your phone, you were out shopping all day and yet, came back with no bags or nothing." Austin's hands are shaking, so I walk up to him slowly, taking his hands in mine, but he takes a step back, pulling away, which breaks my heart. "Can we sit down? I can explain everything." He shakes his head and I close my eyes taking a deep breath, preparing for the things I'm about to say.

"I was at Franks store, I did go out to buy somethings, but my head was somewhere else so I didn't get anything, just walked around." I start saying and he fiddles around with his hands. "Why?"

"I wanted to go Christmas tree shopping, but it just it hurt to much. I haven't gone shopping with anyone other than my dad, it was our thing, but I'm no longer a part of his life and it's, it's like slowly learning how to breathe again." His face saddens more, but this time, the sadness is pointed my way, and I appreciate his empathy, but I'd like if he'd stop. "I'm sorry I really am, it's just been hard on me to.." my voice breaks down and I lick my lips, tasting the salt of my tears.

Austin closes the distance between and hugs me tight. "You should have told me, I'm sorry, we don't have to go if you don't feel like it, baby" he says rubbing my back, holding me close to him. "I think if you go with me , I could do it. " he chuckles, kissing the top of my head and we stand hugging for a moment.

"Aus?" I ask softly something still on my mind. "Yeah?" "Is something wrong, you felt a little cold, you know, earlier." I feel him stiffen a bit, so I wiggle out of his arms to look up at him. "Well I was worried about you and my sister told me that she and the kids are down with some virus and can’t make it to Christmas, so I was just filled to the brim with worry." I smile at him, touching his hair lightly, placing some flyaway hairs back. "Oh my baby, want some hot cocoa? And how about we bake something?" I say, walking back to the kitchen counter and getting things ready for a feel better night. "Your butter cookies? With orange?" He asks puppy eyed, making me giggle. "Well I did just buy some oranges yesterday, so why even ask?" I say putting milk on the stove to warm up and already measuring the right amount of flour and sugar.

Between finishing the hot cocoa and adding the flour to the dough, someone decided to start a fight with flour, so we're now laughing, picking flour from our hair, as the cookies rise. "You're such a child." I chuckle, wiping his nose. "I just couldn't help myself" he shrugs, smirking at me.

The next morning we wake up as late as we can and now we're enjoying a shower together. His hands wash my skin tenderly, massaging all the stiff spots. "I don't think I'll ever get bored of washing your hair!" He admits, bubbling the shampoo between his hands, then applying it to my hair. "Well I'll never get bored of you washing my hair, so lucky for you!"

After what must have been the slowest start of day in months, we finally enter the Christmas tree market, hand in hand. Being here does feel weird without my dad, but not as bad as I thought. Austin squeezes my hand three times and that calms me a bit, so I take a deep breath, looking at all the trees. "Can we get a huge one?" I ask already having my eye on one. "I was thinking smaller, but whatever you want." He says, looking the opposite way the trees that are way too small for my liking. "How about two trees?" I suggest, smiling at him.

"Honey I don't think we'll fit in the elevator with this." Austin says, as he pull down the tree that's almost twice his height, from the roof of my heel. Driving around New York with this on top of the car was of course something out of a comedy. "So up the stairs?" I ask hoping he'd say "no"

"I think so." He sighs, looking with dread at the staircase door. "Ok then.." I say defeated, locking the car and getting ready to help him.

Around the 2nd floor it feels like I'm dying, we decided that best way was for me to go up pulling and him pushing form down. "I think we're going somewhere." I encourage, already cursing myself for not going to the gym enough. Austin laughs, form somewhere behind the tree branches. "Yeah the North Pole!" He jokes

On the 10th floor we  stop at the door of the apartment, him in better shape than me, but still just as tired. "You have no idea how lucky you are I love you!" Austin says, kissing my cheek. "I love you too!"

"Is it straight?" Austin asks from under the tree, trying to place it in the tree stand. "A little to the left!" I instruct. "My left? Or your left?" He asks, out of breath. "Mine, ugh no, yours. I don't know, can you get out of from there?" I ask and he comes to sit next to me. The tree is still very much crooked, but I think I like it this way. "I think I like it this way!" Austin says, rubbing my back. I snuggle into his side and stand on my tippy toes to kiss him. "I think I agree!"

"I think I love you!" He says, picking me up and spinning me around. "Did you notice that you kinda picked a tree looking like me and I picked one looking like you?" Austin jokes again, but as I look at the two Christmas trees, now realizing that the very obvious height difference does resemble the one me and Austin have between us. "I think we just did the funniest thing." I admit, going to the boxes on the floor and taking an ornament out, placing it in the smaller tree Austin chose. "Merry Christmas, y/n! I love you!" Austin says, placing and ornament in the tree I picked. "Merry Christmas Austin, I love you too!"

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[multific]

Constellation

Wolf Yautja x Reader

Summary: You loved living alone in your cottage. You moved out to be alone for a reason, you hated people, and you wanted to be left alone. And you were alone until a certain pair of eyes started following you.

You saw the news on the TV.

Aliens.

And yet you ignored it.

You tried to live the life you wanted for so long as best as you could.

For as long as you could.

You still took care of your land, fed your animals and did your daily chores as usual.

You did see a couple of ships pass over your home but nothing more.

You have never seen an alien. Only on TV.

It appeared that they were fighting. 

Then the government decided to nuke the city to kill both aliens.

It looked like it was the end of it all.

But little did you know, for you, it was only the beginning. 

You had a feeling that you were being watched. 

The feeling not quite leaving you alone. You tried to look. You walked around your land, in the woods, nothing, no one. 

Could it be that you were becoming more and more paranoid? Could it be because of isolation?

You were imagining things.

Until one evening, when you heard noises inside your house.

Loud distinctive noises of someone walking around.

Fear struck you. 

You couldn't move out of bed. You just laid there, blankets up to your chin as you were shaking. Your heart beat out of your chest as the door to your room opened.

The person was huge, way too tall for a human, they had to dodge under the door to move in.

Then, came a clicking sound.

This is when you realized, this was no human.

There was a God damn alien in your home!

You knew you couldn't do anything. This thing could tear you apart in a matter of seconds.

You pretended to be asleep, hoping it would leave.

It watched you for a minute or two, which for you felt like an eternity before it left.

After the alien creature left, you rushed to see how it got in.

All doors and windows were locked from the inside. But you surely heard its footsteps moving into the woods next to your home.

You were utterly confused.

How did it get in?!

Why did it get in? What did it want?

It didn't take anything, it didn't hurt you, so what could it want?!

For the upcoming days, you didn't sleep.

The thing came every night, sometimes late in the night sometimes earlier. It just stood there and did nothing.

By the third time you were considering asking it what did it want. Or staying awake to see how it would react.

But you were too afraid.

Then two weeks later, as you were leaving your home, the skull of a deer with antlers was on your porch. It was placed there delicately, facing the door so you wouldn't miss it.

You were sure it was the alien.

Was this its sign to show you that it could kill you? You already knew that.

You took the skull and left it on your porch. You thought if you ignored it long enough, it would get tired and just leave you alone.

But it didn't.

The next day, another animal skull was placed on your steps. Looked to be a cat or a dog.

Then, something like a fox and finally, a wolf skull.

You began to have quite a collection. But you didn't understand. Was this thing trying to intimidate you?

It was working.

You just refused to leave because you spent your life building this place into a home.

But, was your life worth staying?

It showed that it could easily kill you.

But then why was it hiding?

Why did it already kill you and take what it wanted?

What did it want?

--- 2 months ago ---

Yautja prided themselves if they died during a fight.

It was the most honourable death they could ever ask for.

He fought many xenomorphs. One even left its scar on him. 

And yet, now as he was fighting, he survived.

He got back on his ship and left, but his ship got damaged and it broke down in the woods.

Wolf had to fix his ship so he could go back to Yautja Prime.

On his way to find some materials he could use he stumbled upon a farm, he knew some humans lived out in the wild in their houses, away from other humans.

He hid behind a tree and observed, trying to figure out if this human opposed any danger to him.

The first time he saw you was when you took care of your crops.

He concluded that you were nothing but a harmless little human.

And yet, for the next two weeks, he found himself watching you. He sat up on the tree and watched you all day and fixed his ship all night.

He walked around your crops, looking at everything.

To him, it was clear that you were a provider. Much like the females on his planet, you took care of food while the males hunted.

But you had no male. Which was quite interesting to him.

How come no male humans wanted you as their mate?

One night, he got brave and decided to go inside the house while you slept.

He checked your home and found nothing of interest besides you.

He watched as you slept.

He stood there for hours, watching you. 

You were so different from him, yet so similar. 

You preferred to be alone, much like him. 

You didn't have a mate, much like him.

He liked you. Which was extremely rare for him. During his life, he never looked for anyone like he did for you.

And so, he made his decision.

He will court you, win you and bring you back to his planet.

It was a simple plan for him.

And so, the first skull was placed on your doorstep.

You yawned as you got out of the bath, heading to the kitchen for some water before heading to bed, you stopped in your tracks.

It was here.

It was standing right in front of you. It was huge and grey and green and tall and... and you nearly fainted.

You knew you couldn't fight this thing. 

You had no chance against it.

It raised its hands and pulled its helmet off, revealing its face.

This alien looked a lot like the one you saw on the TV once.

The one that fought the other.

You noted the scar on its face as it made a clicking sound. It started to walk towards you, you backed up into the fridge. 

It raised its hand and placed a palm against your cheek. You looked into its eyes for the first time.

And somehow, you felt calm.

It made you calm down.

He made you calm down.

"What do you want?" you asked, hoping he would understand.

But he just made the same clicking sound as he did before. 

"Why did you leave the skulls?" you asked and he moved his hand to the armour on his wrist and pushed a couple of buttons.

"Gi-fts." said a very broken robotic voice.

"Why did you leave me gifts?" you watched as he pushed more buttons.

"Gifts for Mate." 

"Mate?" you asked and he nodded. Realization hit you and you realized, he was leaving you gifts so that he could court you. This must be an alien custom. "What are you?"

"Yautja."

"What's your name?"

"Wolf." the machine seemingly translated his name, but it was okay. "Your name?"

"My name is Y/N."

He nodded again.

"I want to take you to my planet. So we can marry." your eyes widened.

"Marry?"

"Strong female," he pointed at you, "Strong male." you would have assumed that he would have some issue having to marry you, wouldn't they only marry their own?

"Give me time. Two months. T-Then I will go with you." what were you saying? Why did you say that?! You didn't want to go! But you had no other options! This... Wolf clearly would get what he wants.

Maybe... those two months will be enough for you to get used to the thought.

Maybe those two months will be enough for you to grow some form of attachment. 

Maybe... hopefully.

For the next two months, he stayed with you in the house. 

The first week there was a lot of rain and storm so you were inside.

Most of the time you just kept looking at him or watched TV. He didn't speak, but he did notice the skulls you put up above your fireplace.

It filled him with pride, it meant you liked his presents.

That you accepted his courting.

For the upcoming days you cooked for both of you, since you weren't exactly sure what food he liked, you tried steak with potatoes. You can't go wrong with that.

And you didn't. He enjoyed it very much. Then the next day, he brought you cut meat, from where you were afraid to ask.

But you did cook everything that he brought to your home.

And he ate it all.

He still watched as you slept.

But instead of panicking, you found yourself enjoying having him there. He made you feel safe and you found that you wouldn't be able to fall asleep without him in the room. 

You woke up each and every morning more and more comfortable in his presence, which did make you worry.

Turned out, you didn't hate company, you hated human company.

Wolf being the big alien that he was tried his best to be careful around you. He followed you everywhere, he watched you and learned. 

He learned a lot about you from just watching you in the woods, but now, now he knew even more.

He saw the way you worked, how gentle and delicate you could be. But he also watched you chop up wood, showing that you can be strong when need be.

He liked it.

He was proud to pick such an amazing Mate.

It was the last day, two months had gone by and his ship was ready, he was ready.

He entered your house and found you in the kitchen, you looked out your window as if trying to memorize everything. But when you realized that he was behind you, you turned and smiled at him. A gesture he wished he could give back.

"I'm almost ready." you said with a heavy heart, but you were also ready to leave and be with Wolf, see where that path would take you.

And you felt ready for the adventure, it scared you but you felt ready.

You just wanted to remember this place.

You looked back out the window when he came up behind you, standing behind you, you felt his huge body but you didn't feel scared. 

It felt good.

He felt safe.

He was a good two heads taller than you.

You didn't say a word as you turned around and looked at him. You really looked at his scar and his eye. You knew he still could see with it, but his vision wasn't the best on that one.

You could also assume that one of his... mandibles was missing. It's place is still present.

You wished you could ask, you wished he could tell you. He lowered himself, allowing you to reach his face as you reached up and ran your fingers down his scars.

You wished you were there to help him, you could have eased his pain.

And, just like that, you were ready.

--- 3 years later ---

Yautja Prime was very different from Earth.

Yautja were very different from humans.

You learned that Wolf was quite the loner. His name fit him very well.

He preferred to be alone in his home, working on his ship or head on a mission for a hunt.

He liked being with you.

You two were very similar.

You didn't enjoy the company of others, but you enjoyed having the others around.

On your wedding night, Wolf told you how Yautja found their mates.

He also told you about true mates. Which is what you would call soulmates.

He explained how he felt as if you two were true mates and you didn't agree at the time, but now you did.

Spending your last three years with him, you can confidently say that you are in love with him.

You only feel complete when he is there.

And from what he told you, he felt the same. You wore the necklace he gifted you with pride.

And you waited for him every day when he was away on a hunt. He always came back victorious with many gifts.

He proved his worth to you as a male and a Mate.

And so, you never once regretted coming with him. Even if you were nervous in the beginning.

He made sure you had a warm bed, filled with furs.

Every night he came to the bed, he held you close to him, keeping your smaller body close and safe.

You slept with the confidence of having him there. Knowing he would protect you if anything was to happen.

Not like anything ever did.

You found yourself not missing your old life.

The view you spent so much time trying to memorize, long forgotten. 

All because of him.

You woke up every morning in his arms.

His body wasn't warm nor was it cold. But the feeling of his skin under your fingers always lets you know that he was there.

And you couldn't ask for more.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #yautja x human #yautja #alien vs predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #yautja imagine #yautja imagines #preadtor imagines #predator imagine #predator imagines #alien vs predator requiem #aliens vs predator #aliens vs predator fanfiction #predator wolf #wolf predator #wolf predator x reader #monster imagines #monster x reader #monster x human

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! | f. odair

masterlist

anon's request: noo bc i've been thinking about this for a while (all the time) imagine the reader from district 8 who's with finnick always sewing random fish patterns into his clothes or any cloth-related items bc of his district!!!

warnings: just some cutesy fluff, very very mild suggestive themes

notes: i couldn't not write this request it's so cute. very rushed because i've got another fic in the works ;) stay tuned my beautiful readers <3

word count: 800

Finnick would always invite girlfriend!reader to District Four because this man has major attachment issues, so you practically live at his house and are both attached to the hip. And one day he would find this little lionfish embroidered onto the cuff of his favourite sweater, which oddly resembles the colour of his hair.

His first instinct would be to call out to you. "Sweetheart?"

And you would respond with a "Hm?" from another room in the house, sneakily sewing something onto another item of his clothing. He would be curiously inspecting the little creature that had taken up residence on his shirt as he padded through the house to your whereabouts.

Just as he entered the room you were in, he would begin, "Why is there a—"

He'd cut himself short as he looked up and saw you sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, legs tucked beneath your body, a soft, knitted blanket draped over your lap, and a sewing kit lying on the side table. In your hands were a pair of his pants.

One of his eyebrows raised. "You've got my pants."

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway. "I do," you replied.

He took a step closer. "And you're sewing them."

"I am."

Another step. "And there's a fish sewed onto my sweater..."

You simply smiled at him—an adorable proud little smile. God, you looked so cute he genuinely felt to urge to lean down and pinch your cheeks between his fingers, but then he remembered he was your boyfriend, not your grandmother.

"Not that I'm not in absolute awe of your sewing abilities but—" He chuckled, shaking his head— "why?"

You shrugged, piercing a sewing needle through the waistband of the pants in your lap. "You're from District Four; fishes are kind of your thing, are they not? Plus, it's pretty," you said, then your voice lowered to a soft murmur. "Like you."

His stomach fluttered and he almost giggled like a little girl at your words. Once he got close enough, he kneeled beside the chair you were sitting in, watching as your delicate fingers manoeuvred the needle and yarn into the outline of a seahorse. He smiled to himself.

"Do you think I should start weaving clothes for you? Considering your district's all about making clothes and stuff," he said with a smirk.

"Like a dress made out of netting? It wouldn't leave much to the imagination."

"You won't hear this mouth complaining," Finnick said, the image of you walking around the house clad in a black net dress overcoming his mind.

Your cheeks warmed with a horrible blush and you decided to focus your attention entirely on the seahorse in the effort to overcome the sudden lewd thoughts involving his mouth.

Finnick continued watching in amazement as you managed to turn a few colours of yarn into a beautiful seahorse on the waistband of his pants. He wondered how many other pieces of clothing of his you had managed to infiltrate with various sea creatures. When his eyes caught on a bright blob of colour on the underside of the shirt sleeve he was wearing, he smiled, knowing he had gotten his answer.

His gaze flickered back to you, observing the look of concentration on your face as you sewed—the gentle crinkle of your furrowed brows, the subtle curl of your lips, and every now and then, the small twitch of your nose like that of a bunny, the pink of your blush adding to the image.

He couldn't help but prop his folded arms on the arm of the chair, chin resting on his forearms as he shamelessly and blatantly admired the changes in your facial expressions. He noticed as your eyes began to occasionally flicker toward him, your attention increasingly beginning to drift.

A few minutes later, you exhaled a heavy sigh. "You're so distracting."

"You're so adorable," he replied almost dreamily.

There it was again. The humiliating pink flush of your cheeks.

He grinned, humming a quiet laugh as he rose to his feet to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

"Can I make one request?" he asked.

"Perhaps."

His eyes fell to the lionfish on the shirt in his hands, eyes sparkling with child-like joy. "Sew some of these onto your own clothes so we can match."

A wide smile stretched across your lips.

Within the next week, you and Finnick were a giggling mess, sporting matching sweatshirts embroidered with big blue dolphins, each one's blowhole featuring a small red heart just above.

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #sam claflin

[spikesbicth]

Got Love Sick All Over My Bed

Astarion x F!Reader!Tav

Summary: Astarion discovers Tav having a private moment in her tent.

approx 1.5k words

cross posted on ao3

CW: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, masturbation, maybe a tiny bit voyeurism but only if you squint. biting. vampires.

A/N: I am just in the inspiration train so I banged out (lol) this quick one shot. just feeling so creative! once again barely proofread so excuse any glaring issues. Feedback always appreciated :) enjoy!

The smell of smoke lingers on your hair and the clothes lying in a pile at the foot of your bedroll. This was a usual occurrence, as nearly every evening was spent at the fire with your companions, discussing the day and what was to come. Conversations often went in circles, regardless of what had happened that day you often felt you were no closer to safety, always in danger. During these nights, you often found your mind and your eyes wandering to Astarion, whose pale skin and sliver hair was awash with a golden glow from the firelight. He was always entrancingly beautiful, but in this light he was truly ethereal, otherworldly. You were awash with love for him, and yet at the same time completely unsure if he felt the same way or would stick around long enough for you to find out.

These memories and feelings swirl in your mind as you try to relax on the uneven ground. It was difficult to remove your doubtful thoughts of Astarion. In an effort to gain closeness to him, you had offered your neck and your blood to him. Over time, for yourself at least, it had become something you anticipated and desired each night; you wished to steal a kiss from him before the ritual. Tonight, you imagine more. You close your eyes, picturing the crescent of his collar bones under his loose silk shirt he wore each evening at camp. The spot where his jaw meets his neck. The feeling of his body pressing against yours, his broad shoulders and chest that narrow delicately to his waist, his hips, his hands…

Tonight you want him, you want what you know he is capable of doing to you. He is to meet you tonight, in your tent, after the others have settled in their own.

You have time though, don’t you…?

You feel blood rush to your pelvis, a slick arousal beginning to pool between your legs.

Unable to curb your desire you trail your cool fingers down your abdomen, pushing up goosebumps as you progress. Already naked under your blankets, you find your clit and begin to rub small circles, gentle and delicately at first. You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair, sweet with bergamot…

You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair while he kisses you and touches you the way you touch yourself. A light gasp escapes your lips as the image sends a jolt of energy through your body and you press harder with your fingers. You move on for a moment, pushing two fingers inside of yourself, slightly shocked at how wet you have become. You slip further into your fantasy, imagining Astarion cupping your breast while he fingers you, playing with your nipple, kissing your jaw and neck. Gods, you wish for it.

“Oh my… now what do we have here..?” A voice questions in the darkness at the entrance of your tent.

Your stomach drops, and your eyes jolt open.

Oh. Fuck. You think, feeling your cheeks flush. You in fact, did not have time for this before the object of your desires arrived at your stoop. How long had he been there?

“I… uh, hi,” you croak, your mouth slightly dry from the rhythmic breathing forced by your touch.

Astarion widens the slack door of your tent and lets himself in, an knowing grin across his face. He immediately sits beside you near your pillow. No matter how unreasonable, there was no doubt to you that he knew your pounding heart was beating for him. You sit up, pulling your blanket up to cover your bare chest, feeling unusually exposed in front of him tonight.

“Shall we?” He asks, ignoring what you felt to be the elephant in the room. Though you felt embarrassment, the idea of him watching you touch yourself made your clit pulsate and wetness continue to flow from within you.

“Oh, yes… of course.” You answer, trying to hide your arousal.

Astarion moves behind you, sitting with one leg on either side of you. This was not his usual approach to feeding, and you wonder what he is planning.

“Darling, do lean back for me,” he requests, his voice deep and velvety. You lay back, resting your bare back against him. Your heart continues to pound in your chest and at this point, you were more than certain he could feel it. You tilt your chin back looking up at home with wide eyes and meeting his crimson gaze. He leans forward, and you anticipate the joining of your bodies with his bite.

To your surprise, he lays a gentle kiss on your neck. You gasp, and blink, was this a dream?

“Is that alright, my dear?” he asks, his lips brushing your neck as he spoke. You nod yes, rendered speechless by his kiss. “May I continue?” he asks again, and you nod once more, moving a hand slowly to touch one of his legs.

His kiss meets your neck again, kissing slowly, his fangs only occasionally catching your skin rather than piercing it. You feel your throbbing heartbeat between your legs, as you feel the blanket you had pulled across your chest begin to slip down as you arch your back to allow Astarion more access to your neck. The cool air grasps your nipples and they grow dense and hard in response.

“Would you like to continue to touch yourself?” He asks.

Yes Gods, Yes. You wanted to. You wanted him to watch you. Still, the bewilderment you felt of these fantastical actions playing out squirmed at the back of your mind.

“Please… I do,” you affirm. You send your free hand back down to your folds, and find them even slipperier than they were before. The blanket falls further down your chest until your breasts are fully exposed and it only covers your hand working on your clit.

Astarion moves a hand to one of your breasts, continuing to kiss your neck and jaw. His cool touch sends lighting through your body.

Your clit throbs under your fingers, swollen and sensitive. As much as you desired these moments to last forever, there was certainly no way you would be lasting very long. Moaning and gasping in Astarion’s arms, you rub yourself hungrily.

It doesn’t take much more to reach your peak, bursting into orgasm suddenly. Your hips sway, and you clench rhythmically around nothing. Your back arches and you press the back of your head into Astarion’s shoulder.

Your neck now even more exposed, Astarion sinks his teeth into you, your rich, crimson blood flowing into his mouth. You burn in pain, and you close your eyes, submitting to him.

Eventually, the rush calms, and you are left a panting, bloody mess in Astarion’s arms. You look up to his face again, this time moving to meet his mouth.

You join in a passionate kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. You taste your own blood in his mouth and relish in imaging how much he enjoys the taste of you.

It was an explosion of passion, nearly as satisfying as your orgasm mere moments before. His soft lips sliding against yours, his fangs occasionally catching, his tongue touching and sliding against your own.

You pull away for a moment, looking into his ruby eyes.

“How…?” you ask, unable to find the words to describe your confusion at the sudden encounter, almost a recreation of what had occurred in your mind only moments before his arrival.

Astarion opens his mind to you, psychically linking to yours through the tadpoles that swum in your brain. You needn’t see his thoughts to know what has happened. How could you be so naive, of course the tadpole. Of course. In your fit of sudden insatiable desire, you left yourself almost completely unattended. Anyone who was tadpole-afflicted that happened to be wandering by may as well had been broadcasted the images you had conjured in your mind.

Without words, Astarion interrupts your thoughts. You see into his own mind, and are flustered by what you see. The same feelings you hold towards him, the same desires, the same yearning, the same love - but all for you.

You sit up, turning to look at him straight on, completely at a loss for words. He had wished for this as much as you had. A gentle, warm smile spreads across your face.

“Will you… stay with me tonight?” you ask, your voice faltering, still riddled with disbelief.

“I want nothing more” He replies, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek.

Like twisting vines, the two of you entangle yourselves in each others arms, and cuddle into the bedroll. Exhausted and contented, the worries that plagued your thoughts earlier that evening were nowhere to be found, and you knew that you wouldn’t be kept up from them ever again.

#astarion #mine #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #bladurs gate 3 #baldurs gate smut #why is astarjon my muse #spawn astarion

[tojis-gf]

personal stress reliever

author's note: yes bitch i struggled w this one so bad 😭 i had no clue how to go about writing this n i also didn't want to rush it but i didn't wanna like make it too long (n i probably did jus that, sowwy). o yea i also only like proofread this for like not even 5 mins so hehe

imagine toji in yet another zoom call for work n he's jus been so swamped and stressed with work that you jus wanna make him feel good. you look over at him while you lie on your back on the little black couch in the corner of his office, leaning back in his chair, hand against his lips and thumb resting under his chin as he listens to his business partner shiu ramble on about some changes the company is making. sounds absolutely fucking boring. so like the amazing gf and personal stress reliever you are, you decide to go and do that in the best way you knew possible.

you get up and get on your hands n knees n crawl under toji's desk, resting your plump ass on the heels of your feet, peering up at him from underneath with those big brown doe eyes, and bringing your index finger to your lips to tell him to keep it down. all he can do is look at you with wide eyes, already knowing what you were about to pull, but he lets you continue anyway.

you pull your perky tits from your tight little tank top, bouncing on release, and begin to unfasten his belt and undo his pants, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring out, slapping against his lower abdomen. your mouth begins to salivate just at the sight of it. wanting to waste no time, you take his shaft in your delicate hands and begin to plant kisses from his tip all the way to the base of his cock before enveloping your plump lips around his reddened head.

you begin bobbing your head up and down taking in all of his fat cock, slobbering all over it, making it messy and nasty, just how toji likes it. one of his hands finds purchase on your head, pushing you down further, his fat mushroom head reaching your uvula, causing you to gag on his dick, saliva dribbling down the sides of your mouth and tears begin the well up in your eyes. unfortunately, toji's camera wasn't off; eyes half-lidded as he threw his head back, and a hand went up to cover his face as he let off a low grunt.

"mr. fushiguro? is everything alright?" one of the female employees says with concern.

"o-oh yeah 'm fine, just a headache that's all..i'll uh be right back," he mutters as he mutes himself and turns off his camera.

"fuckkk just like that princess," he moans as your tongue traces the prominent vein on his cock. you continue bobbling up and down on his cock, wrists twisting in a rhythmic movement as you continued to take him in your warm mouth. "missed that fuckin' tight little throat of yers, been so buried in work i forgot how fuckin' nasty that little mouth of yers was- shitt"

detaching your mouth from his cock, "jus wanted to make you feel good daddy, n i know how stressed you've been lately..." you say while pumping his cock in your hand "so jus sit back n relax baby, okay?"

"fuckk..yea okay doll.." toji mumbles as he lets off a groan. toji readjusts himself in his office chair so that he's now leaning back, hands behind his head as he lets you work your magic.

you place his cock in between your fat perky tits, holding them as you move up and down his shaft, occasionally giving his angry red head little kitten licks. you watch him gaze in awe as he watches his cock being devoured by your tits. "shit, i could watch my cock get swallowed by those perfect tits of yours all fuckin' day princess"

after a few minutes, toji begins growing impatient and begins to thrust his hips upward. not long after, his thrusts begin to get sloppier and his breaths begin to get heavier, signaling that he was close. "ohh fuckk just like that.."

after a few more thrusts, thick, white ropes of cum splattered all over your tits, and god does toji enjoy the view.

"fuck..ya gotta do that more often ma" he laughs as he catches his breath. you stand up with a grin on your face leaning in to press a kiss onto his lips, "anytime you want, baby"

#toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji x black reader #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x bimbo reader #dilf toji #jujutsu kaisen smut #༊*·˚ 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐳 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers chasing their victim (their future s/o) and in the middle of the chase their s/o just stops to grab and protect a little animal thinking they were going to hurt them (like a pup or kitten) how would they react

Can you also make their s/o chubby?:)

Plz and Ty

I didn't quite know how to bring up that the reader is supposed to be chubby in this one but I definitely imagined a chubby reader while writing it.

Slashers when their future s/o is protecting a small animal from them

Warning: Animal Death/Animal Cruelty (not described in any detail but it is mentioned and implied)

Jason Voorhees

He has been chasing you around for a few minutes now, and you are slowly starting to get winded. Then there is the small stray cat, dirty and terribly malnourished. There are a few of them living around the lake, you know that much. And the cat is right between him and you.

Oh no, he’s gonna crush the poor thing, you think, and your protective instinct overrides your self-preservation. You rush to the cat, pick it up and run away again, not noticing that Jason stopped following you and is just staring after you with wide eyes.

You hide in one of the cabins, hoping to be able to catch your breath for a few seconds before having to run away again. Your new companion is meowing at you.

„Hush, you’re gonna give us away“, you whisper hectically, when a huge shadow falls over you. You look up, and your heart drops into your stomach.

That’s it, you’re going to die. Jason is already reaching for your neck… then his hand slips lower, gently patting the cat’s head.

„H...huh?“

He saw what you did, how you risked your own life to save that little creature… and he admires that. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.

Vincent Sinclair

The creature you try to protect ends up being Jonesy, ironically. You see her in the Sinclair house and you’re to stressed and scared to even consider the possibility that she belongs to the people chasing you.

„Come on, please, they’re going to hurt you too if they find us“, you say to the dog while desperately trying to get her to follow you. „Come on, little one, I won’t hurt you, I promise-“

Vincent appears from the next room, looking at you for a long time. Jonesy happily runs up to him, tail wagging.

„...Oh. She’s your dog. Well don’t I look stupid now.“

His shoulders begin twitching, accompanied by a suppressed chuckle. He manages not to fully burst out laughing, but he can’t help himself; your awkwardness is just so *endearing*. He may want to keep you around just for that. Alive, of course. You won’t be half as entertaining if you’re dead and covered in wax.

Freddy Krueger

Really? You’re willing to sacrifice your life for an imaginary *hamster*? He thought that letting you see a bit of his past would be fun, and of all the fucked up things that happened in his life, him killing the class hamster when he was a kid is the only thing you take issue with? Not the fact that he murdered his foster father? Not the fact that he murdered *children*? No? The hamster it is? Okay, then. You got damn weird priorities, but Freddy likes weird. Maybe killing you would really be a waste, so he lets you live… for now.

Brahms Heelshire

„Brahms Heelshire, you let that rat go right this instant!“

Brahms actually flinches and does as he is told. The rat quickly disappears somewhere; you’re not sure where.

Once he gets over the shock, he gives you a sour pout. „Why? It’s just a rat.“

„It’s a living, breathing, feeling being.“

„So are cows and we still eat them.“

„Oh I’m sorry, is this household doing so poor financially that we have to resort to eating rats now?“ You cross your arms in front of your chest. „Well?“

„No“, Brahms says between gritted teeth.

„I thought so.“ You know that scolding Brahms is a delicate task; being too lenient with him means he won’t learn his lesson, and being just the slightest bit too harsh with him will result in an angry outburst. And those can end deadly. But that’s what you signed up for when you agreed to become his nanny… right?

„Rats carry diseases though. They shouldn’t be in the house“, Brahms continues to argue.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. „Yes, that’s why we have the traps out in the garden, and another reason why you shouldn’t touch them. I don’t particularly like having to kill the rats at all, but the traps do so as quickly and as painlessly as possible. So even if they have to die for our safety, there is no, and I repeat, NO reason to torture them. Understood?“

Brahms has his chin pressed firmly onto his chest now; the tension in his body shows that he is getting frustrated. „Yes.“

Okay, time to ease off a little.

„That’s my good Brahms.“ You smile at him.

Bubba Sawyer

Another case of mistaking your would-be-killer’s pet for another potential victim. In this case, it is a chicken. When you saw the poor thing in this room, sorrounded by human bone furniture, you didn’t dare imagine what this family would do to it.

„Hey… nice chicken… good chicken…“

At first you don’t see Bubba lingering at the entrance of the chicken room, looking at you gently speaking to his favourite.

When you notice him, you immediately grab the chicken and nudge it to the questionable safety behind your back.

Bubba looks at you and licks his lips. You are so nice to his chickens. He likes that.

You flinch when he comes inside and kneels down in front of you, pulling the chicken from behind your back into his arms and holding it up to you to pet, like any proud pet-parent.

„Oh… they chickens are yours? They look pretty well taken care of, actually…“ That, and this one is so calm, despite being held by this behemoth of a man.

You reach out and run your hand over the soft feathers, making Bubba smile, delighted.

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bubba sawyer x reader

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY TWO

in which eddie is honest. for real, this time.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, discussion of/allusions to smut from last chapter, angst, not edited (what's new though), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.1k+

→ a/n: welp. this... yeah, this is a lot. i truly hope it's worth it. in the waiting, anticipation, and length. if it isn't... my bad. i'm sorry in advance. also, please note, pov change only applies to the memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

22:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

—

HOUR TWENTY TWO – 1:00 PM

You can’t speak. It’s as if you’re frozen; every muscle, including your tongue, has gone rigid. Every racing thought escapes just beyond your reach. Every single one of the last twenty two hours pound behind your rib cage, and you think you might just faint. Right here, right now. The blood rushes your ears as your body goes ice cold, and even the railing cutting into your palm seems to drift away from you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t even try to deny it. He knows you heard what he said – he can’t take it back. It’s written plainly on his face that if he could, he would swallow back down those disastrous words. He’d grab that destruction four letter word right out of the air, no doubt, and set it aflame. He’d blow away the ash if he could guarantee you would have never heard it.

But he can’t. You heard him. 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

Everything is heavy. The air, your limbs, your godforsaken tongue. 

“Say something,” he suddenly begs. You’ve never seen Eddie look so desperate, eyes wet and voice cracking, “Anything.” 

You want to answer him. Your bones ache with the need – the need to reply, the need to question, the need to do anything but stare at him with what he must surely mistake for horror.

Were you horrified? Were you?

You don’t know. 

It’s why you can’t answer him. 

“I-” he starts up again, breaking down even further right before your eyes. You want to reach out, to coddle him, to tell him it’s fine. But it’s not fine. 

You don’t even get the chance to ruminate on just how not fine it is, or that heat beginning to come to a boil in the pit of your stomach, because the sound of one of the neighbors exiting out onto their own balcony interrupts the infinitely delicate moment. 

“Hey there, Eds-” You don’t know what actually interrupts the gruff man that steps out, who exudes familiarity with Eddie until he takes in the scene before him. 

Eddie, completely fucking naked. You, with only a shirt on. If it weren’t for the moment at hand and the trembling emotions coming to fruition inside of you, you’d probably find it comical. You’d probably find a way to join in the old man’s single guffaw before the two of you meet each other’s gaze and become aware of what exactly is happening.

But it’s not funny. You’re both fucking naked — physically and emotionally — and it’s not funny.

You’re mortified as both of you are scrambling across the balcony, a whirlwind of discarded clothes fisted and nearly tripping over each other to shove back into Eddie’s living room. That embarrassment now trickles down into the start of a boil, everything in you becoming red-hot from how flustered you’ve become and the way you can’t have a second to just process it all. 

When you turn to face Eddie once the sliding door has slammed shut, his cheeks are the brightest pink imaginable. 

“What the fuck,” you whisper out, trying to steady your breathing, trying to take it all in. 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your adrenaline is almost making you sick. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he catches your whisper amongst your stoic silence and seems to forget the moment that his neighbor had just shattered, voice clear as day as he pulls his curtains shut. You swear you catch the old man still staring, still laughing, and you’re just grateful that you’re not the one completely nude, “I had no idea Mr. Jenkins would come outside, usually none of those fuckers see the light of day before sundow-”

“Your neighbor just saw us naked,” you almost scream. You want to shout, want to throw everything in sight. You crave to flip that coffee table in the center of the room and throw a fit that outdoes even the most petulant of toddlers.

“I know, I-“

“If you say sorry again, I’m walking back out there,” you take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm you’re shaking body, “And I’m throwing myself off the fucking balcony.”

Maybe you’ll be able to laugh about it in five years. A year, even. Hell, a month or as soon as next week. But you can’t right now; all you want to do is cry.

Some random man just saw you naked. Eddie apparently fucking loves you. 

It might be the sleep deprivation and it might be the fact that it feels like the Universe is laughing in your face at every turn right now. Whatever higher power exists seems to be waiting around every corner for the chance to kick you repeatedly as you stumble to this finish line. And you can’t fucking take it.

So you give in. You give in to that childish need to stomp your feet and scream until you’re blue in your lips.

“I just- Fuck!” Eddie jumps a bit at your exclamation, he’s still naked, “I can’t catch a break! I can’t catch a fucking break. First, I’m showing up here, and I’m stuck with you for twenty four hours. I’m stuck with the man I hate for a whole fucking day,” you’re full on pacing, not caring how ridiculous this scene would appear to anyone. Your hands wave erratically in the space around you, and all Eddie can do is stare, tense with wide eyes, “And I cry in front of you, have full breakdowns in front of you. I listen to you remind me over and over how much you truly despise only to now suddenly find out that, hey! I actually love you! And do I get to process that? No. Because now, some fucking old man that lives next door to you has seen my goddamn vag-“ 

Eddie’s entire demeanor collapses. “Oh, so now I’m back to being the man you hate?” 

You pause your ranting, realizing what you’ve said. 

You’re just angry. You should have thought before you spoke, before you opened your mouth and began to spew your venom, because you can see the way the words have struck Eddie. Not your intention.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“But you said that,” he flatly argues back. 

Your stomach twists.

“I’m just-“ your tongue is back to being heavy as the two of you face one another. Feet apart, worlds apart. “I’m fucking embarrassed, Eddie.” 

“You think I’m not?” he scowls, and you try to tell your racing heart it’s a good sign. But it’s not. You almost preferred his walls dividing the two of you, “Shit fucking happens. We got caught — we fucking dirty talked about getting caught! Big fucking deal! Karmic justice or whatever bullshit people spew. It doesn’t mean I’m going to- It doesn’t change-“ he’s stuttering now, matching that exasperation that had you pacing just moments before. He huffs, a hand reaching up and dragging his bangs upward, harsh at the root as he finally drops his hands in his own defeat, palms slapping his sides, “Everything changes. You said that, not me. You said everything changes, and all it takes is a little bit of fucking embarrassment to go back on your word?” 

He’s still fucking naked. You still can’t think.

“I’m not having this conversation with you naked,” you whisper, almost in disbelief as you shake your head, “I’m- Put your fucking clothes on. Please.” 

“Put my clothes on?” he scoffs, taking a step closer to you, “Put my clothes on? Do you mean the same clothes you just insisted I take off not even ten minutes ago?” 

“We were having sex!” you yell. You’re sure if the old man is no longer on his balcony, he can hear you through the walls. Hell, even if he is still outside, it’s likely he hears the screaming match beginning, “Why- Why are you turning this on me right now? You just said you fucking love me! The least of our issues right now is me telling you to get fucking dressed!” 

“Why are you lashing out at me right now?” Eddie’s voice is louder than yours, something more broken inside of it, “I-“

“Clothes,” you grit out, avoiding his eyes as you start to yank your panties on violently, “Now.” 

You can still feel him. His essence is dripping between your thighs. And you don’t find any sense of enjoyment in it, you don’t savor that quick-fading warmth nor the reminder of the pleasure he’d just brought you. It just reminds you of the words he had said all while not even looking you in the eyes. He couldn’t even face you as he had admitted it. 

One thing at a time, you try to remind yourself. One fucking thing at a time. 

Eddie’s own redressing is another sight that maybe, hopefully, one day you’ll look back on and laugh at. But right now, it can’t spark any amusement in you. Not as all your emotions slam back into you at full force.

You’re embarrassed. You’re confused. You’re angry.

“Happy?” he spits out once his boxers are on, shirt tugged back on so hard over his head that his curls frizz up.

“No,” your eyes are burning, and you feel it again. All those desperate emotions. Like a wild animal inside of you has begun to claw at your insides, making you bleed from the inside out. 

Eddie loves you — and he has, for a long time, apparently.  

Eddie’s neighbor has seen you naked. Saw your full bottom half exposed.

You’ve managed to hurt Eddie’s feelings, again.

Eddie fucking loves you and never thought to mention it. He has for a long time.

All your tempered strings snap, that wild and stricken thing inside of you finally cutting loose.

You don’t know what you’re angry at. You’re angry at him, and yet you’re not. You’re angry at the situation, and yet you’re not. You are bitter from words withheld and you are sour from every moment that paves the road that brought you two to this very moment.

You’re just angry.

“What did you mean?” the question comes out sharply enough to make his own defiant anger fade ever so slightly as he physically flinches, “I- I need to know what the Hell you meant, Eddie.” 

Anger is metallic on your tongue. It seeps from your skin, floods the air, only further dampens everything already so heavy. 

The longer he doesn’t answer you, the more smothering the entirety of the apartment becomes.

“Just tell me. Make it make sense, because right now?” you pause for a deep and shaky breath. Your eyesight is blurry now. Eyes red rimmed with tears that will surely sear your cheeks if they find the nerve to be shed, “Right now, I don’t get it. Over and over and over again, you have reminded me that you hate me. Prior to tonight, it was safe to assume that scorning my existence was one of your favorite pastimes. And I know, I get it — everything has changed. But- But-“ 

How can anything change if you weren’t honest to begin with? 

Did anything change for him? While you were discovering and tending to sore feelings that had been festering for a while but had never seen the light of day, was he only nursing an old wound? 

“But what?” his voice drops low. His entire demeanor has dropped, cowering down before you. His head dips down, his shoulders droop with prepared rejection, you watch the man before you, the man you had just let defile you and the man you had just worshiped on your goddamn knees, turn to dust.

A shaky gasp. Wobbly knees. The blood rushes through your ears again, flushing out any noise except the two of you breathing out of sync. His deep breaths, accepting and welcoming a rejection he was so sure he was receiving. Your shallow breaths, panting and rapid and trying to just get everything to slow the fuck down.

You were right. Once the tears shed, they burn a trail of Hellish fury right down the center of each cheek. “When I say everything has changed between us, what does that mean to you?” 

He’s undressing an old wound, an open slash that seems to be unable to form a scab. You’re pressing on bruises, aching parts of you that had purpled from his neglect long ago. It’s clear as day now — the difference.

You no longer care about the embarrassment of being caught.

“What do you want it to mean?” 

“Don’t do that,” the tears fall faster now. You can’t even begin to dig into this chasm of emotions. Are you angry at him? Are you disappointed by the circumstances? Do you love him? “I want an answer — I need your answer. You promised me your honesty, so give me it. Now.” 

His eyes meet yours, and your entire world seems to fold into itself, “It… doesn’t mean much. It doesn’t change much.” 

Everything has only changed for you. 

“So it means nothing, then? You have me at your disposal, you have me on my fucking knees for you, you tell me you fucking love me, and it all means nothing?” 

You’re twisting his words and you know it. But you can’t help it, can’t stop it. 

“I never said that!” his voice is no longer low and quiet. Sudden worry creases beside his eyes as his mouth goes slack in shock, “I never said it meant nothing.” 

“But it doesn’t mean much, right?” You hate your wet cheeks. You hate the way everything in you is somehow slow-breaking, yet suddenly shattering. An unnerving juxtaposition that is drowning you and sending you reeling over and over again, “It doesn’t change much, right? Because when I said that, Eddie, I meant it – everything fucking changed for me. It wasn’t- It’s not- This isn’t just some throwaway thing to me. Not even a day ago, I thought I had to hate you with everything I had. I thought I had to hate you.”

And I don’t. Not even a little bit. Even right now, when I should. 

“Is that what you think I’m saying?” his voice is low where your voice has risen, his face calm where yours has gone stormy. 

Where you’re on fire, he’s treading still waters. The opposite dilemma that has always existed, and the one you had the nerve to see as poetic. But water meeting flames is never poetic. It never ends well. You should have seen that coming from a mile away.

“What am I supposed to think?” you also quiet your tone to match his. You wonder if the neighbors really had heard a thing. You almost hope they had, that this argument is affecting someone else’s day the way it’s affecting you, “You’re standing here, and you’re telling me it doesn’t mean much, and-“

“It doesn’t change much,” he corrects, and you’re now the one flinching at the crack in his voice. “Not for me. Not when I-“

Not when I’ve loved you for so long.

He can’t even finish his own sentence.

“So what does it change?” you throw your hands out in exasperation, “If it doesn’t change much, what has it changed?” 

There it is again — his silence, your anger. 

“Is it not enough to just know it changes something?” 

If you were stupid, you’d take his tone as pleading. You’d mistake it for begging. But you can’t. For all your fury, you can’t believe that he’s actually stooped so low as to beg for you, especially after what he’s just said. Time and time again, you had repeatedly cracked yourself wide open for him, and he’d managed to rip your heart right out of your chest with such a simply yet damning statement. The most casually cruel bit of honesty he had offered you yet tonight: that nothing changes.

“We’re back to square one,” you choke out in realization, “I- Fuck. This entire time, you weren’t honest with me.” 

He opens his mouth quickly, and for a second you believe he’ll offer an explanation that can soothe over the ache. He’ll come up with an excuse that you can buy, he’ll explain himself in a way that proves you wrong, and the sweet oblivious bliss can return. 

“No,” he says instead after careful consideration, “I wasn’t honest with you.” 

Your tears are running rampant as you only nod slowly, pressing your lips together in defeat, “Awesome. Great,” you reach up, sniffling as you swipe at your nose, still silently quiet but no longer awarding him with any display of your rage, of your hurt, of anything but your acceptance, “No, really, that’s- Cool. Nothing changes. I get it.” 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

It didn’t make sense, but you don’t have it in you to dissect it any further. He had loved you the entire time, and still set out to make you bleed. His grand admission doesn’t change a single fucking thing. 

You don’t say another word as you grab your pair of jeans up into your fist, being sure to move slowly and not in the haste every nerve in your body calls for. You need to leave – you need out of this apartment, and you need to never see Eddie Munson again. It wouldn’t be a far leap from what your friends already deal with. If the friendships take blows of damage from it, so be it-

“Where are you going?” he asks, standing stiller than a statue as he watches you.

You grab your bag, “I’m leaving. The deal’s off. Or- I don’t know. Tell them the bet’s off-”

“The bet is not off-”

“It is,” you turn to him, absolutely frozen in your resolution, “It really, really is. You can even fucking lie to them if you want, I don’t care. Figure out a way to get the money but I don’t want it. I’m done.” 

“So that’s it?” he scoffs in disbelief. When you pull on your jeans, when you sling your bag back over your shoulder and begin to walk to the counter where your phone was left, he realizes that it’s really happening. He realizes you’re truly done, “No questions? I just told you I wasn’t fucking honest, and you’re just going to walk away, not even demand I tell the tru-”

“I’m tired of pulling the truth from you,” you finally move with some of the aggression you felt, hand smacking the counter beside your phone, “If you care so much, if you love me, I shouldn’t have to beg until my knees bleed for you to actually be honest with me,” you take your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before you look at him, “I can’t keep doing this. You were always right. They’re your friends. Congratulations, you got what you always said you wanted. You won’t have to deal with me anymore – consider this a farewell from your life. I’ll make sure no one invites you to my fucking funeral.” 

You assume he grabs you due to your cruel reference to his insult from the very beginning of the night, that he’s going to fight you for that bit of your oddly calm speech. But when his hands wrap around your bicep, and you face him with those silent tears still racing, what comes out of his mouth stuns you. 

“I’ll be honest,” he is pleading, he is begging, “Stay, and I’ll tell you everything. I don’t even fucking care about the bet — we can call off, everyone else can go to Hell. I don’t care about the money, I don’t care about the bet, I just-” he pauses, and you watch the desperation building taller and taller within him, “Stay and let me explain.”

You should tell him no. You should tell him to go to Hell. If you stay and hear him out, it will only end in pain for you. You should leave.

Instead, your bag begins to slip off your shoulder. 

“You have ten minutes,” you whisper as his hand finally releases its grip, “Explain.”

—

SIX MONTHS EARLIER - EDDIE’S POV

If he were smart, Eddie would’ve kept his word.

He’d told them he wasn’t showing up. He’d told them he had work (not a complete lie), and that he wouldn’t make it tonight. He just hadn’t felt like drinking anymore — not since two weeks prior, when he’d gotten black out drunk while hanging out with Nancy, throwing his own personal pity party. 

Pathetic.

It wasn’t just that killer headache that had been haunting Eddie since that night. It was much more than that; it was solid and palpable regret. He’d thrown back too many beers, mixed it with some sort of wine coolers that Nancy offered him once he started to feel the buzz. All it took was just a bit too much alcohol in his system, and suddenly, his rant that Nancy had agreed to indulge him in became so much more. One moment, he was just complaining about you. And the next, he was rambling, letting less harsh words slip between the complaints, more compliments than things he wanted you to change. One wine cooler in, and he was no longer complaining about the way everyone had been fawning over you after a full six months of friendship, but instead the way that your sad eyes and pouting lips following him around a room was cosmically unfair. 

He didn’t remember much of the rest of the night, and he was glad when Nancy had given him a pitiful look over the cups of coffee she offered. 

He’d told her. He knew he’d admitted his stupid, annoying, despicable crush on you to her. Probably whined about the way you and Harrington had clearly had something going on. Definitely spoke too much about how badly he wanted to experience your gentle hand in his calloused one, or to feel your arms wrap around his neck in greeting rather than daggers from your glare every time he entered a room. Hell, he’s sure there was a good thirty minute period amongst the fuzzy memories where he’d sat on the edge of tears as he continued to mumble about how he wasn’t good enough for you.

Nancy Wheeler, his best friend, finally knew. Six fucking months of keeping it under wraps, and Eddie Munson had finally slipped up.

And she clearly hasn’t forgotten as Eddie had prayed she would every single night as she’s the one to answer his knocks on Steve’s door, grinning with the hidden knowledge.

She’d texted him with one last plea for him to show up. Insisted everyone was here. Went so far as to make him a list, and made sure to add your name at the end. It had been phrased like an afterthought on the screen, but he knew her too well. He knew Nancy purposefully mentioned you.

“Munson! Finally! It took you long enough,” she squeals, clearly already halfway to drunk before she quiets down, “And you said you weren’t coming. Wonder what, or who, changed your mind.” 

“Fuck off.” 

It had been a bad day. Work, classes, a phone call with Wayne that had just left Eddie disheartened and terribly homesick. It was selfish, but the thought of seeing you in passing tonight, even if you did seem to dislike him just as he had intended, made it all a bit more bearable. 

Coming home. Seeing you felt like coming home, even if you’d slammed the front door on his face.

He follows Nancy down the hall, a pit growing in the bottom of his stomach, heavy as ever. He shouldn’t have even wanted to see you. The last time he had seen you, you’d been out for blood, blatantly ruining a date he’d managed to bag with Chrissy Cunningham. Chrissy, who never gave him the time of day in high school. Chrissy, who was clearly set on using him as a rebound during yet another break from Jason. Chrissy, who’s only flaw wasn't just the fact that she wasn’t you.

“Eddie, my man!” Argyle greets Eddie the moment he enters the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, Jonathan to his right and a space where Nancy clearly had occupied now empty. 

Eddie nods, still feeling the week weighing him down. No sight of you yet, “Hey, man.” 

He just wanted to see you. One glimpse, preferably before you’ve caught sight of him, and he’d be fine. He’d learned to live with those fleeting moments the last six months, he could keep it up for just a bit longer.

He’d get over you eventually. Even if it killed him.

He had to give his plan time to work. So far, he’d done well, easily offering you a cold shoulder and nothing more after that first night. It wasn’t easy — he doesn’t think anyone would find the task of being cool towards someone as radiant as you easy — but he’d done it. Brick by brick, his wall of invincibility was standing tall and strong between you two. It was safer this way, he had to remind himself. It was better to run off of brief glances of your smiles and laughter never directed at him than to risk anything more. He’d only disappoint you, or you’d magically disappoint him, and it would end in bloodshed. Someone like you, someone so good and kind and easy to gravitate towards, would leave Eddie broken beyond damage. 

You didn’t go for guys like Eddie. Steve had made that clear since day one.

Eddie takes the loveseat as Nancy returns to Jonathan’s side. He tries to make it subtle, the way he twists his head to glance around the room as he removes his jacket, eyes roaming until he finds you. In the kitchen, with Steve and Robin, tense back telling him you’d already noticed his arrival.

So much for seeing you smile.

He tries to keep up with the conversation going on. Argyle and Jonathan are having some sort of debate about aliens, nothing short of heated and passionate, and he’d normally be jumping in without hesitation. But his eyes can’t stop flickering to the kitchen and each time, he can see you downing even more alcohol. He knows you don’t like him, but did you hate him that much?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Nancy leans over to whisper as Jonathan grows in volume about another branch of a conspiracy theory.

“Just tired,” he flatly replies. He’s suddenly itching to get his hands onto some alcohol of his own. Fuck the lessons he should’ve learned a few weeks ago. Fuck his regret in confiding in Nancy.

“Was work rough?”

He hums pathetically in response, eyes glued to the kitchen still. To you.

Nancy’s eyes finally follow his focus, “Have you… I don’t know, ever tried just talking to her?”

He snaps from his daze at that, head turning quickly to Nancy, “I talk to her all the time.” 

“You do not.”

“I do too.”

“Never nicely,” she points out, narrowing her eyes, “You’re like a little boy on the playground, tugging on her pigtails until she figures it ou-“ 

“I don’t want her to figure it out,” he cuts off the assumption, eyes widening in horror at the thought, “Christ, Nance. I thought I made that clear when I ended up shitfaced on your couch.” 

Nancy softens. She can see what’s happening here, see every dampening thought that weighs Eddie down. He might not remember his drunken rambles, but she does. 

“The only thing you made clear is what a spectacular ass you’re making out of yourself,” her words hold no bite, only truth, “Who cares what Steve said that night? He was drunk.” 

“So was I,” Eddie’s eyes are back on you, palms running up his outer thighs until he curls them to fists by his hips, “I was drunk when I talked to you about her. Forget about it.” 

Surprisingly, his stubborn best friend leaves it be. Puts the pointless argument to rest.

Eddie’s feelings can’t rest, though. 

Every night, he tells himself it’ll all go away. The distance will make his heart grow harder, and he’ll eventually be able to wash himself of you one of these days. And every night, all the feelings you’ve sprouted inside of him only teem their way higher, up into his throat and choking him with every last breath before he falls asleep. He can’t forget those first few weeks, the way you seemed to think his coldness was a phase. You’d tried so desperately to seek him out at every function, sparked so many failed conversations with him that left him to burn. Every smile you’d offered him during that time, he’d taken for granted.

Even last week, when you’d interrupted his date, he’d let himself relish in the memory of your attention. Pathetic. 

Had you been jealous? Had you just been spiteful, finally giving him a taste of his own medicine? He couldn’t decide, wouldn’t let himself linger on the reasoning. But he’d remembered your touch, could still feel it scarring his skin wherever your palm of fingertips had rested as you’d scared off Chrissy. He’d even hesitated in the shower that night, pausing for a moment before washing over the shoulder you’d gripped when you’d first approached their table and embarrassed him without care. 

He deserved your spite. 

And he deserves to have to overhear the conversation you’re currently having in the kitchen. You’re going on and on about all the men you’ve had dates with, detailing out every one night stand for Steve and Robin who listen with eager ears.

It makes his stomach churn and twist sharply. Each new man you bring to your roster makes his throat burn with jealousy, plain and simple. And he knows it written all over his face when Nancy leans over and puts a hand on his knee, giving him a concerned look. 

Even the change of topic between Argyle and Jonathan on goddamn Bigfoot can’t overtake the sharp cut of your bragging. 

“I’ve never seen your eyes so green, Eddie.” 

He’s about to snipe back that his eyes are brown, and be unnecessarily cruel from his sour mood, when he realizes what she means.

“I’m not jealous,” he lies through his teeth.

“You very much are.” 

He doesn’t have it in him to bicker back and forth about this again. Not about you, and not with Nancy, “What does it matter? Like I said, me and her? Never gonna happen.”

He had said that. He remembers that, at least, from his drunken confession. He’s sure he reiterated that point several times once he’d made it past the point of coherency. 

“She’s lying,” Nancy casually whispers, pulling her hand back, “She- Us girls talk, you know? Just… she’s lying.” 

“I went on a date with Chrissy. It doesn’t matter.” 

And she has no clue how fucking hung up on her I am. She’ll never know if I have anything to do with it.

“You can keep saying that,” Nancy glances, making sure their other two friends on the couch are still too deep in conversation to listen in, “But we both know that’s not true.” 

Unsurprising. Even if Nancy hadn’t listened to him cry that night about all his miserable yearning, all his unrequited feelings born out of a mess he got himself into, she would have known. Eddie has tried to guard himself when it comes to you, but there’s some times his leashed affection can’t help but seep out. 

Whenever you stumble on sidewalks beside him, his arms and hands are the first to fly out. Whenever the group has gone out to bars altogether, he watches you like a hawk, almost daring the men surrounding you to disrespect you. Whenever your birthday came around, he’d bought that damn gift card to his favorite coffee shop, all because he saw you frequent it twice. Although, to be fair, he’d made Harrington be the messenger there. He wouldn’t have been able to look you in your eye, wouldn’t have been able to put up the bitter persona on a day that should be special to you. He didn’t want to ruin your birthday, so he’d simply sat on the sidelines. Let everyone else go out and celebrate with you. Let everyone else pour enough affection into your cup, even when he wishes his own could have been the final drops to cause it to overfill. 

He had to tread carefully. It’d be too easy — to let himself pour out all these silly feelings and meaningless attraction. One wrong move, and he’d cause his own undoing. His own destruction. It doesn’t matter if it would be by your hand; he’d only have himself to blame at the end of the day.

He’s lost in thought, still itching for a drink, when Nancy is suddenly standing over him. “We’re going out for a smoke, you in?” 

He shakes his head numbly. His mind is far away now, getting lost in all that he’s done wrong, all that he can’t have. 

He’s homesick. He’s watched the way you’ve interacted with Robin and Steve the entire night, and he’s goddamn homesick for a home that he’ll never hold the keys to. 

“You sure, man?” Argyle asks him, wiggling his brows, “I brought the good shit.” 

Numbing his mind with drugs. It’s tempting.

“I’m good,” he reaffirms, still speaking in monotone. He doesn’t have the energy to put up a brave face, too focused on his heavy chest and that miserable pit in his gut still. 

And everyone leaves. He’s sure there’s something poetic for his stormy mind to pick up on there, as he watches his friends gather without him and exit to the outside, but he’s more focused on a miniscule detail.

You’re not with them.

Meaning you’re still in the kitchen.

And God, he really should know better. He should stay planted in his seat and he should sit in his misery until they all return. Only trouble can come from not doing so. But then his body moves to its own accord, fueled by something wickedly cruel and terribly homesick as he grabs one of the bottles of beer off the coffee table. It’s Nancy’s, he’s sure of it. Her lipstick stains the opposite side of the rim he takes a swig from. The beer has long since gone lukewarm, but beggars can’t be choosers. He clears his throat as the bitter lingers on his tongue.

He should know better.

But he doesn’t. He really, really doesn’t as he enters the kitchen. You’re on your phone as he stands in the doorway, and there’s no time to hide what you’d been glancing over.

A dating app.

You spin to face him, and he imagines a world where your eyes land on him and light up. Something akin to that first night, to those first few weeks. Where you look at him with purpose, and he sees relief flood your irises rather than irritation or fear. 

No such luck. He only has himself to blame.

He can’t think of anything else to say, so like an idiot, he gestures vaguely with the bottle of beer towards your phone, “Those apps fucking suck.” 

That jealousy is still gnawing at him. Hateful, painful, reckless. 

You look down at your phone for a second, and click to exit whatever messages you’d been on. And then you look back up at him.

“You’ve used them in the past?” you question him, but he’s still stuck on all the recounts of your escapades he’d overheard tonight. Whether or not they were true didn’t matter. All he sees when he closes his eyes is you, with other men. You, looking at someone else with purpose, relieved eyes awarded to someone more worthy.

He’s lucky he can choke out a short, “Nope,” and make it not sound strangled. 

“Okay,” your attention returns to your phone screen, and Eddie’s returns to his internal battle.

He’s jealous. So goddamn jealous it’s insufferable. It’s not your fault – he chose to push you away, he chose to lash out like a child for his own sanity and his own safety. You’d ruin him; you’ve already ruined him without even trying. If he gave up on the act, on this carefully thought out plan, he’d be beyond leftover rubble of a man. He’d be gone beyond recognition, reduced to ash and smoke. A nameless, forgotten whisper of dust that people would only point to and say, see? Look at that. That’s what becomes of you when you never learn. 

He’s pined enough in his lifetime after girls like you. Girls who were too good for him. He’d done it with Chrissy, and it was still causing him nothing but trouble. 

That burden didn’t hang over Chrissy, or over you. It was all Eddie’s own fault. Neither of you could help that he wasn’t good enough; it wasn’t either of your jobs to fix him or lower your standards for him. You’d even been kind, you’d even nearly fallen into that trap. 

It was for the better. All of it was for the better this way. 

And yet the jealousy remains. The anger still thrives between his ribs, and begs for release. 

“Why are you even still on them?” he should think over his words more carefully as they begin to roll off his tongues. He knows he’s in the wrong before he even continues, “I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.” 

Each word is sharpened so intentionally, glinting from raking against that anger inside of him. You don’t deserve their prick. Really, he should just be comforting you the way the others do – how Robin surely was, how Steve must be. 

But it’s part of the plan. So he tampers down the jealousy and he feeds into the anger, lets it consume him. Because making you hate him is easier than letting you like him. It’s easier to watch the one you can’t have sneer at you like the enemy than let them smile at you like you’re just a friend. 

“I-” you falter in your words, and he decides to straighten his back, takes a deep breath as he slips the mask on effortlessly. He hates how easy it’s become. He hates how quickly he turns everything with you into a fight, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.” 

Sometimes, it’s like a game. And he can pretend that your hatred, your distaste, is also all a facade. Like the both of you are two sides of the same coin. A playful banter rather than an actual argument between two people who can’t even call themselves friends. When he looks at it like that, blinded by his delusion, it makes the ache dull. Sends it away for a few fleeting seconds, convinces himself he really can carry on this way. 

“You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all, tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the boy count you’ve got there, player,” he forces a grin as he leans on the counter, watching his words get under your skin exactly as he had intended. 

You’re cute like this. Clearly drunk, getting flustered. He revels in the way your face physically scrunches in annoyance, the way he can watch you gear up to fight fire with fire. A sick, twisted game of cat and mouse that always can entertain him in the moment and haunt him at night. 

“You’re bluffing. You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”

He wonders, for a second, if you’d caught him staring at any point. He wonders if you’d even care.

“We could.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“Yes, we could.”

“You’re lying.” 

You cross your arms, and he can’t help but watch the way they push your chest up. He can’t help but ponder on how much better it would all feel if this were really playful banter. 

He has to refrain from physically shaking the thought from his mind. 

It’s for the better. 

He narrows his eyes, he grips onto the anger again, that hidden jealousy. He should know better. He should stop it. The words even feel heavy on his tongue, terribly forced. Because his anger isn’t at you. 

“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” and oh, how ironic, for the liar to be calling out someone’s little white lies, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up,” the words come out a bit easier when imagines the barrel of the gun pointed at himself, as if he were speaking so casually cruelly into a mirror rather than at you, “Everyone strikes ou-”

He’s clearly struck a nerve. And it aches, but he reminds himself that that’s the point. That’s his goal.

 “I’m pathetic? Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.” 

He wasn’t trying to avoid you. He was trying to avoid Nancy after his entire drunken confession fiasco. 

“I did!” he continues to lie. Even with no one to show for, he piles up his lies high. Buries himself beneath them, beneath his pathetic act and worthless reasons. It’s probably for the best that you had assumed that he was avoiding you. 

“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.” 

The act cracks for a moment as he freezes. Why did you know about his apartment’s pet policy? 

“How do you know that?”

It can’t be because you care, or even get curious about him. He’s done everything in his power to cause the exact opposite, to make you be repulsed by him and to run the other way if you can help it. 

“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” He doesn’t even react to the roll of your eyes, unable to get riled up as he usually would at that. It clicks for him; it makes sense, because Nancy had stormed down his door not even a day later, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

Eddie does feel guilty about that. He doesn’t mean for his own self-destructive behavior to leach out to his friends, or even you. His goal has always been to make it so that when he’s not around, he’s not even an afterthought to you. But selfishly, part of him preens at the idea of you being reminded of him, of you thinking of him when he’s not in the room with you. It’s a conundrum. It’s almost deadlier than his other option. 

“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” he grumbles like a damn child, almost pouting in his guilt. There’s another selfish sliver of him that’s also upset at that – upset at the fact everyone else gets to bloom with your friendship and positive attention, but not him. Once again, it’s his own doing. He really shouldn’t be angry at you about it. 

“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.” 

Times like these make him want to give it all up. He has to physically tense his body, tick his jaw and bite his tongue to avoid throwing the entire act to the side. He wants nothing more than to grab you by your shoulders and shake you, scream that sometimes it is your fault. But you don’t know it – you can’t read his mind, see past his intentions. 

You don’t know what Steve had so generously reminded him of that very first night. 

“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice is devoid of all emotion despite the storm brewing inside of him. He can’t even blame it on alcohol – he wishes he could, but his tolerance to beer can handle the single sip he’s taken. He crosses his arms, wrapping them around his body, trying to protect that terrible vulnerability only he’s aware of. When your position mirrors his, he wonders for a moment if you’re also feeling it. 

But you’ve been drinking. This entire conversation, every emotion, can be blamed on that. You’re luckier than Eddie. 

“I’m not lying.”

“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment.” 

He lets a reaction at his own irony slip through for a brief second, eyebrows furrowing as the voice inside him screams hypocrite! Hypocrite! Hypocrite!

He wishes he could pretend to be oblivious to why he can’t stop bringing Steve up, but he knows better. He can bury the jealousy alive, but it still bites all the same. 

“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going? We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?” 

We aren’t exactly friends. 

He should relish that confirmation that his plan is working, that you truly don’t see him as a friend, but it just fucking stings. He swallows hard physically, as if it can help him swallow down the truth any better, but it does nothing for him. The truth only continues to choke him up. His tongue has momentarily frozen over in his mouth as he tries to push past the painful reminder and wrap up this conversation. He feels it, that sharp burn of an unattended wound, and he realizes at the wrong moment that whether or not he keeps you at an arm's length, bloodshed will always occur. 

At least this way, he tells himself it’s protecting himself. This way, the knife isn’t pointed at his own heart. 

“You’re right. We aren’t friends,” the words are poison on his tongue. They taste of dirt and rust, like a grave that screams to be dug up but he has no shovel. He’d tossed it once he’d sealed the tomb, like a fool, “But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?” 

At least he wasn’t lying to you for a brief moment. Nance had told him. He’d throw you that bone, at least. 

“Well-” and with your own pause, you seemingly return the favor. You’re handing him yet another opportunity on a silver platter; exposing an insecurity that he should let live and let die, but he won’t for the sake of the wall he has bled to put up between you two, “You say that as if Nancy and I aren’t friends.” 

“Are you?” 

He’ll regret that taunt for the rest of his days. Two simple words, and he’s damned himself. The conversation that follows, about Instagram and followers and social standards of friendship, doesn’t even matter to him. It’s just a routine. Constant knives, clashing swords of words, lie after lie piling up with the bile in his throat as he shoots for kills. He hands over reason after reason for you to resent him, and makes sure that each punch lands. Ignores the ache, the one billowing in his knuckles as if each subtle insult he tosses your way doesn’t bruise his innards all the same way. By the end of the back and forth, it should be enough, for both of you. He’s accomplished the same thing he always sets out to do with every conversation: he pisses you off, putting another inch in that stretch between you two. 

But then you turn your back on him. And he deserves it. God, he deserves it. But he’s still full of bad ideas tonight, the awfulness of the last few days still suffocating him, and so he makes another decision to regret. He walks up behind you.

You open your phone, and he sees it. You’re on the dating app again, and the screen flashes with the face of your latest contender. 

He knows that face. He schools his face to remain even, but he fucking knows that face. 

The bartender at his local haunt. The only other person besides Nancy who had ever seen Eddie so miserable over you. He had been drinking alone that night, and the whiskey had him pouring out his guts to the poor guy. Slurred words of the girl who had slipped between his fingers, of the one who got away, of you. 

And that same bartender had been the one to sympathize with Eddie, claiming he understood. That he knew that feeling – dating around and doing anything in your power to get the girl you truly want off your mind. He said he had one of his own. He’d told Eddie that his pain-riddled speeches helped him make up his mind, that he was going to go after the girl he really wanted, that Eddie should do the same. 

Was this bartender your ex-boyfriend? Had the two of them been discussing the exact same girl?

Bad decisions. Over, and over, and over. It all comes to a rise within Eddie – not just the anger, but the jealousy and the hurt and the goddamn envy of the man on the screen. He hates the bartender, he hates himself, he hates the world at this point.

He tells himself he should add you to that list. But he doesn’t. He can’t. 

And it all spirals out of control before he can prove that to himself. Words grow sharper, small kindles of tension between the two of you finally explode to full blown flames, and he’s suddenly saying things he doesn’t mean. Things he’ll linger on for the days and weeks, the months to come. 

“You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted, Not by those assholes, not here-” 

He’s mid-lie, one finger on the trigger of the gun he assumed was aimed at his own chest, when it finally happens. A snap within both of you. Timed perfectly with the glass that shatters against the wall beside his head. 

Eddie learns two things that night. 

One, half of his plan worked. He’s succeeded. You hated Eddie Munson’s guts, and instead of him being content in his success, he’s sick to his stomach. It doesn’t bandage the wound inside of him, doesn’t pack away cotton nor cauterize the bleeding. It only worsens it. Widens it, impossibly so. He swears shards of that broken glass fly right into his unsuspecting chest, even if Nancy doesn’t find a trace on him when she comes back inside to see the aftermath. You hate him, he’s proven his point. He has proven himself to be the worst possible version of himself, the most unlovable man he had always seen in the mirror now residing in him staunchly enough that every single one of his friends sees it. 

He’d done it. He’d diminished any chance he had ever held of being friends with you. And he thought that, without a doubt, that meant he’d diminished any disastrous chance of letting you close enough to risk the chance of any more of his feelings getting involved. He thought it would have meant that he’d done it – he’d protected himself, and in some sick twisted way you, from inevitable bloodshed. 

But blood had still been shed. Even if his friends were only cleaning up broken glass in the kitchen, he could still see the stain of red across the floor and walls from you and him. He was bleeding out for you, but he had just driven the knife in deep enough that you would never return the feeling. There was no world where you would be bleeding out for him, only because of him. 

The second revelation comes a bit later in the night.

Closer to midnight, hours after the fight, when Eddie finds himself alone as per usual. He stumbles to his usual bar, thankful for the late hours, fully prepared to get so fucking wasted he can’t remember his own name. He’d wish to not remember your face, especially when he had spewed such hateful intent your way, but he knows there’s not a single brand or amount of whiskey out there that can cleanse him of that. Your name is just another ghost to add to the lineup. You’ll haunt him until his dying day. And he deserves that. 

But then, when he walks into the bar, he sees the bartender. 

The same man who had stood you up just the night before. The same man Eddie simply couldn’t understand. He was clearly on a date, a nice girl sat at the table across from him, laughing at every word he said. Eddie remembers their conversation, although a bit hazy. 

“I think you’re onto something, man. Some girls are just… irreplaceable. I’ve got a girl like that of my own – prettiest eyes you’ll ever see, a smile that could cure cancer – and… you know what? I think we should both go for it. Give up on the girls who could never compare.” 

He wants to vomit. The bastard had even poured a round of shots on the house, had fucking cheered with Eddie before throwing back the alcohol with him in the promise of moving onto the girls who matter. 

He had said cheers to discarding you. Brushing off you. To you being one of the girls who could never compare. 

Eddie’s vision goes red, and he knows half of the blame falls on himself. He’d been the reason this asshole stood you up. He had already been the reason for your pain tonight before he’d even said a word to you. His self hatred has never burned so deeply, so viciously.

But you can’t punch yourself. And so instead, Eddie doesn’t hold back when he approaches the table and lands his right knuckles right on the bastard’s cheek bone. Even goes in for a second punch. He would have gotten in a third punch, but the bartender hits back. Not as hard as Eddie, fists fueled by self-defense rather than ravaging guilt and crippling self-hatred, but enough to get deter him until security could gather both men up.

It’s in the alleyway that he has his second revelation. At the hands of the man who had just hurt you. It was like looking in a mirror. Eddie nearly does finally vomit as he leans against the brickwall, security a few paces away, ready to file a police report. But then, the bastard still manages to somehow be better than Eddie, throwing up a hand to stop them from dialing for the cops. 

“Don’t,” is all he says, leveling a stare when Eddie’s eyes fill with tears.

“Really?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow, pushing his luck. He needs someone to punish him. He needs to be thrown in a cell for the night, to be treated as the degenerate he truly was, “I just rearranged your fucking face and-”

“Why’d you punch me?” the bartender spits out some blood, nose crooked, “You- You’re a fucking regular, dude. How’d I piss in your cheerios?” 

Eddie’s feeling vulnerable. All his actual feelings boiling and burning in the back of his throat, begging to be released. He doesn’t need a drop of whiskey this time to be honest. 

“The girl,” Eddie rasps, tears threatening to spill as he pictures your face again, “I told you about the girl. The one no one else compared to.” 

The bartender’s eyes widen, “Jesus, fuc- are you telling me that we were talking about the same fucking girl? I- Vanessa told me she wasn’t seeing anyone else, I can’t believe she fucking lie-”

“Not her,” Fuck Vanessa, Eddie thinks bitterly, almost laughing. He has no right to say his next words, but he does, and they cause a pain worse than even the most nightmarish hangovers he’s ever experienced, “My girl is the one you stood up for her.”

You weren’t his girl. You never would be his girl. 

The bartender only looks more confused, and Eddie’s anger flares a bit more at the thought of him talking to more girls beyond you. The man before him had had everything Eddie wanted: he had had you. And just like Eddie, he had fucked it all up. It was easy to misdirect his anger in the moment. 

He says your name out loud, a searing iron in his throat that makes it come out garbled and strangled. Some recognition falls upon the man’s face. 

“Oh… her.” 

Eddie doesn’t hold back, “Her? That’s all you have to fucking say? You stood her up, you fucking- Jesus Christ, go burn in Hell,” He’s being irrational. He doesn’t care, “Call the cops on me. Tell them to let me rot in a fucking cell. I deserve it – but so do you. That girl… that… her. She’s one in a fucking million, she’s a thousand times better than whatever girl you have waiting on you inside, and you couldn’t see that. You’re a goddamn dick.” 

No one makes the move for the call. The bartender just shakes his head again, being far too patient. Eddie opens his mouth, ready to scream now as he demands they punish him. Make him pay for his crimes. Not just the punches, but everything he had broken tonight.

He broke you tonight. He deserves to burn in Hell far more than the man before him. 

“I knew you were in love with her, but-”

Eddie cuts him off, “I’m not in love with her.”

He hates the look he receives. It’s the same pity that Nancy now looks at him with. That same hidden judgment, like everyone else knows something that he doesn’t. 

“You may hate to hear it,” the bartender is choosing his words very carefully as he swipes in a contrasting carelessness at the blood pouring out of one of his nostrils, “But you don’t throw punches like that for a girl you’re not in love with. So I suggest you mind your business, and if she is as valuable as you keep going on about, you tell her rather than punching the dude he just serves you fucking alcohol.” 

He doesn’t even have to close his eyes to see you anymore. The image of you is clear as day, even with his eyes open. You, broken and vulnerable and full of hatred for him. Just as he had intended. 

Success tastes metallic and bitter. Eddie finally empties what little he had in his stomach onto that concrete alleyway.

He doesn’t leave the wall. Not when the bartender goes back inside with one of the bar’s bouncers, not when the remaining bouncer eyes him and nervously steps forward, not when they return with a paper declaring him banned from the bar. 

He can’t move. All he sees is you. He hasn’t drank more than that one pitiful swig of beer at Steve’s, but he feels like his world has gone incoherent all the same. 

He fucked up. 

He crinkles that piece of paper harshly once he’s properly left alone in the alleyway, angry enough that it tears a bit from his force. It doesn’t phase him; he didn’t intend on returning anyways. He carries it with him the entire way home, regardless, rolls it between his palms until it’s gone soft with the sweat of his hands. 

It’s for the better. He fucked up, but it’s for the better. 

He tosses the wadded ball into the trash when he gets home. Goes through the numb motions of taking off his shoes, tossing his jacket on the counter rather than the hook he’d put up for it, and leaves his bike’s keys beside it. Eventually, he makes his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth but never once glancing up in the mirror. As a matter of fact, he avoided every single reflective surface in his apartment that night. 

He still sees your face, broken and teary, as he turns off his bedroom light and lays on his mattress that night. It doesn’t matter how many times he repeats it to himself, reminds himself over and over, the mantra of it being for the better doesn’t work. It can’t break through. All because of a pathetic revelation.

Eddie learns that night that he is, in fact, in love with you. And it doesn’t matter, because you hate his fucking guts, just as he had intended. 

—

You don’t make a single move once Eddie breathlessly finishes his explanation. Not even to breathe. 

He’s been in love with you since that night at Steve’s. 

You’d known that he had punched the bartender that night. You’d known that he had been banned from his usual bar that night. But you hadn’t known the entire truth. You couldn’t have ever imagined it, ever pieced it together, until now. 

And you don’t know if that speaks more on you and how dense you’ve been this entire time, or on Eddie and how dishonest he’s been this entire time. 

“God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.”

It suddenly makes sense. At a sickening and sudden pace, it clicks into place. 

“Eddie, I-” 

“Don’t,” he stops you, looking you directly in your eyes. You nearly shrink under his attention. Your fury is gone; you just feel empty, “You… You don’t need to say it back. You don’t need to say anything – the bet’s off. I’m not being honest to stop you from leaving,” he admits, every single wall crumbling at both of your feet, “I’m just being honest because you deserve it. I should have told you that night. I should- I actually should have never done any of this. Any of it.” 

You remember the girl you once were. In a bar, surrounded by strangers and new friends, with tunnel vision for the boy in front of you. You remember that feeling of coming home, the way you ached for him to let you in and had been fooled for one night that it was possible. 

A year later, and he was letting you in, too late. 

“Why?” your voice cracks. You should just pick up your bag and go, but you can’t. Not until you stick the final stitches into the wound, seal up this hurt once and for all. For you and for Eddie. “Why would you… Why would you do that? Why would you set out to make me hate you?” 

“Because I didn’t deserve you,” he says it like a simple fact, like it doesn’t shatter you apart, “Because I knew if I didn’t create the rift and kept letting you in, I’d fall in love with you. At first, I thought I needed you to hate me to prevent it. Figured you’d be stronger than me about it. If I made you hate me, I was… Honestly, I was saving myself. I’d tell myself it was about saving you, but it wasn’t. I was being fucking selfish.”

You nod silently, swallowing down tears. Tears for what could have been, tears for what you still want so badly that it aches. 

“All because of Steve making…” you trail off, head trying to wrap around all the honesty he had just presented you with, “Making some off-handed, drunk comment.” 

It was Eddie’s turn to silently nod. To swallow hard and flutter his eyes shut so you couldn’t see the hurt lit within them. 

“You said you hated me,” you’re thinking out loud more than you’re properly speaking to him at this point, voice broken and soft, hands fighting the urge to reach out for him. Even after it all. Every reminder of what he had done for you, and now having the pitiful reason behind it all, still couldn’t break what had formed here tonight. Everything has still changed for you, “When I said everything changes, I meant the hate – I didn’t want to hate you anymore.” 

“I know,” he bites his lip, as if he’s trying to hold back any careless words. Words that might hurt you, but not for the same reasons as they used to, “That’s why… not much has changed. I never hated you. God knows I wanted to. I told myself I had to hate you, because if I didn’t hate you, I’d love you. And I couldn’t do that again – I couldn’t handle falling in love with someone I couldn’t have. I knew I wouldn’t survive loving you when you’d never love me back. It wouldn’t be fair… to either of us.” 

“But you did it anyway,” you almost laugh at the awfulness of it all, terribly irony stacking up between you, “You fell in love with me, you said it yourself. You… you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects, eyes now wide open, “I love you. It’s not- It’s not some feeling in the past tense. You should still hate me, because I still love you.” 

He’s right, you finally realize. You should hate him for all of this. 

“And all of this counted on the first part of your plan working,” he has to take a step closer, whether it be subconscious or due to how low your voice has dropped. The physical distance erased aches. Splinters each of your bones and all of your emotions, “Which you never even asked me if it worked, even now. You just assumed.” 

He takes a deep, brave breath before he quietly asks you, “Did it work?”

You both already know the answer now, “No.”

But it changes nothing. You know that, he knows that. It’s just as he said – the point of saying it out loud no longer has anything to do with repairing what’s been damaged just tonight. You’re both being honest only because you both deserve it. You both deserve to finally close this tomb. 

You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to close it, though. Not truly. Not properly. 

“I can’t stay,” you whisper, “I still… I still need to leave.” 

Especially now. 

“I know you do,” he responds. He’s gentle, understanding. 

It doesn’t stop the tear you see break from his lower lashes. He doesn’t draw any attention to it, doesn’t so much as move to clear it from his cheek. As if he’s scared if he does, you’ll notice it if you hadn’t already.

“The bet’s still off,” you continue, unable to meet his gaze as you pick up your bag once more. 

“I know it is.” 

He doesn’t try to stop you this time. And part of you, this time, wishes he would have as you slip back out the front door of apartment 2C and let the door shut with a quiet click behind you.

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #my bad #surprise drop because... i am actually sleeping so peacefully right now haha #also might be more mindful of answering asks with spoilers for this round <3 just to give people a fighting chance to read first!!! #eddie pov truthers please rise because my GOD have i been excited to do this

[architect-2015]

living the fast life - Alexia Putellas

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‘la reina’ and ‘il prescelto’ two women dominating their chosen sport.

Alexia Putellas a two-time ballon d’or winner Carmen Blanc the current formula one world champion.

Two women compared in the media could not be any close together.

(whenever they are speaking english besides in posts is spoke in spanish, it’s easier to write it this way than to translate everything!)

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June 23rd 2024 (day of the Spanish Grand Prix)

@alexiapnews

alexiapnews: Alexia Putellas seen walking to the ferrari motorhome a head of the 2024 Spanish Grand Prix!

Carmen Blanc (ferrari driver) and the Barcelona midfielder have been linked multiple times during the duration of the last two years, no comments have been made in these rumours.

@yn.alexia: OMG THEY HAVE TO BE TOGETHER!

@fanusername1: girl let them live their lives.

@fanusername2: if they are together imagine the f1 x barcelona crossovers we could have!

@ferrarixfootball: 💙❤️🏎️

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January 31st 2021 (Day of El Clásico)

It was winter break for Carmen Blanco, coming off the back of another successful season in Formula One, second in the Drivers Championship and Ferrari coming third in the Constructors Standings.

Unlike the other drivers on the grid, the Spaniard like to return home to her beloved home city of Barcelona instead of travelling to all four corners of the world.

Being born and raised in Barcelona, her love for football was a big factor in her off season. The Estadi Johan Cruyff might as well be her second home during the winter and summer off season.

Due to her status in the sport community, specifically women in sport, Carmen had been invited to meet the teams after the game.

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Following a staff member towards the locker rooms, the young lady began to feel her palms sweat. She would be meeting one of her idols.

Carmen had always admired Alexia, her loyalty to Barcelona mirrored that of Carmen’s towards Ferrari. Both women being part of breaking the barriers for women in male dominated sports.

Once she had reached the door, she reached up and knocked three times on the painted wood. Cheers and shouts of joy were heard from inside the changing room as the door was ripped open.

Standing face to face with ‘la reina’ was something she couldn’t believe she would be doing.

“Hola, you must be Carmen. I’m so happy we finally get to meet!”

@carmen.blanco

liked by alexiaputellas, marialeonn16 and 231,567 others

carmen.blanco: always a joy to be back home, this team has my heart. Forca Barca! ❤️💙

alexiaputellas: thank you for your support, it was amazing to meet you.

carmen.blanco: you too alexia, i was completely star struck!

fanuser1: ALEXIA AND CARMEN CROSSOVER!

carmenxf1: the two best women to do it.

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Over the past three months since being introduced Carmen and the players of Fc Barcelona Femení have all stayed in touch, but specifically the spanish captain and the driver.

Having met on multiple occasions for coffee and dog walks with Alexia’s pomeranian Nala and Carmens Dalmatian Lulu. The two had grown increasingly closer to each other.

Currently laid out on a sun lounger in the backyard of her Barcelona home, Carmen was trying to soak up the last of the Spanish sun before her race season begins. A ding interrupts her peace and she leans over to check her phone.

a delicate blush spreads across her cheeks as she rushes into the house to begin getting ready for the night, nervous for what the future holds for her and Alexia.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

oops i realised that for the amount of social media posts i’ve made this is going to have to be a multiple part series.

This spans from January of 2021 to June if 2024 so we’ve got a lot to cover!

i can’t wait to get to Alexia’s first ballon d’or win and Carmen claiming for first formula 1 world championship. 

I’m a sucker for a secret romance so 🤭

#alexia putellas smau #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso masterlist #woso one shot

[novulen]

ARE YOU HARD? N. K.

the first thing your ears pick up as you regain consciousness is the steady sound of nanami’s breathing whilst he exhales down your neck, his breathing labored and erratic, a stark contrast to his usually composed and often calm manner.

you groan, stretching as you turn your head to an oddly red-faced kento. his face glimmers with a sheen of sweat, and you quirk an eyebrow at his unnatural behavior.

“kento? are you okay?” the sweet question hangs in the air, overwhelming the comfortable silence that had once suspended the air. with a ragged breath, he nods without hesitation, glancing away from your worried gaze with a grunt.

“i’m sorry, did i wake you?” he murmurs, completely ignoring your earlier question. you frown, shaking your head no and bringing a hand to his cheek lovingly.

“no, you didn’t, ken. answer my question.” your tone is stern and demanding, forcing the blond male to look up at you, his eyes brimming with something you can’t quite place your finger on.

and it’s not until then that you feel something particularly hard poking your thigh, which, as you look down, pokes through the grey material of kento’s sweats.

suddenly, the couch feels cramped and you begin to squirm, which prompts nanami to hold you in place beside him.

you look up at him, now able to decider the prior emotion that had taken over his eyes.

“kento, you’re..hard.”you mutter out, blood rushing to your cheeks and core inadvertently wetting in preparation for what’s inevitably to come. nanami pulls back from you, head hanging momentarily over the headrest of the couch as he sighs.

“i know..” he begins, closing his eyes in an effort to stop the flow of blood to his now straining cock. “you’d been pushing your ass against me while you slept.”

“‘m sorry, but i told you we shouldn’t have taken a nap on the couch, ken.” a small smile forms on your lips, and you avert nanami’s gaze back to yours.

he shakes his head, parted lips as he heaves out a grunt when you climb on top of him, brushing against his groin.

“no, don’t apologize, love. i just need you to help me at the moment.”

you straddle nanami’s lap, taking ahold of his face with a delicate hand yet again. your grogginess quickly turned into mischief as you give your lover a questioning look, putting on an oblivious facade. “help you with what?”

nanami scoffs, a strong arm immediately coming up to grasp at the meat of your hips before he grinds you directly over his length.

“this.”

you’re soon moaning as your pussy, bare safe for the flimsy material of your shorts and panties, makes contact with nanami’s raging hard-on.

you yelp as he swiftly turns you over on your back, now crouched over you, his wide shoulders and overall sturdy build dwarfing you.

“can i take these off?” he mouths, pressing his forehead to yours as he awaits a response, and once you reply he’s instantaneously removing your shorts off, sliding the cotton down your thighs and off your ankles.

nanami curses under his breath at the sight of your panties, the lacy hemming paired with translucent material doing little to cover your core, leaving little to nothing to the imagination.

he reaches out to touch you, the pads of his fingers dancing along your thighs, nearing the innermost part—and you finally remember a crucial detail which you’d forgotten to disclose.

“wait—kento, i haven’t—“

“i know, it’s perfectly fine, darling. just let me touch you, okay?” he pleads, irresistible with the way his tone begs for more of you, and it’s not long after before he’s resuming his light touches.

you feel your face heat up once again as nanami slides your underwear to the side, revealing your cunt to both him and the cold air, a shiver running down your spine in response. it’s embarrassing, to say the least, yet nanami doesn’t bat an eye at the growing tuft of pubes over your pussy.

your worries are soon thrown out the picture as he stuffs a digit into you, nanami relishing your tight warmth as you, the pleasurable size on his lone finger.

“that’s it, focus on me,” he praises, adding another finger into you, body shuddering when you walls feel tighter from the added width. “just like that.”

“k-kento, i want you inside,” you plead, teary eyes meeting his stern ones. “please,”

nanami nods, complying with your request as he slides his fingers out, satisfied with the way your sopping hole attempts to reel him back in.

turning his attention to his groin, nanami groans, palming himself through the material before he ultimately glides it down, slithering his boxers down with it.

you’re practically salivating at the sight of his cock, now free without anything obscuring its way. the tip leaks frequent globs of precum, veins lining the expanse of his sturdy, tan-colored base.

you reach down to pump him, only doing so about two or three times before nanami’s positioning himself to your entrance, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he pushes just the tip in.

your walls welcome him with fervor, pussy hauling in his cock to the point where it could be said that its pulling was more efficient than his thrusts.

“i-i’m not going to last long if you’re tight and tensed like this, love. relax for me, yeah?”

“i can’t, ‘s too much already,” you say in a shaky exhale, eyes glazing over with tears that don’t go unnoticed by your tentative lover, whom is already kissing your tearfalls away.

“if it’s too much i can pull—“

“no, stay. please,” it’s feeble and wobbly, but you stand your ground and continue to take it all, until nanami’s fully sheathed within your warmth and ready to move.

he’s soon rutting into you, albeit slowly for your sake, whispering sweet nothings into your ears for comfort.

“you feel so good, sweetheart.” he mumbles into the skin of you neck, nibbling teasingly on your earlobe and chuckling as you squirm in his brawny hold.

“a-ah, not there,” you giggle, pushing his form away.

his thrusts then begin to pick up rhythm, muscular, solid thighs producing wet slaps as they make contact with your ass. and you react to the lewd sound by covering your eyes with your forearm, embarrassed yet enthralled by the noise, although whatever the reason is, nanami does not put up with this.

“don’t hide, darling, show me your face.” he demands, yet he’s still able to keep that soft murmur in his tone, and you obey, removing your arm and it’s as if you’re seeing the sun for the first time all over again.

nanami’s small smile lights up the whole room, as well as your heart. you’re compelled to tug him down and that’s exactly what you do, and once nanami’s in proximity you kiss him with such hunger and passion that it makes his knees feel weak, makes his lungs feel twice the size smaller and makes his heart burst with emotion.

soon all is forgotten, and it seems like the existence of one another is the only thing you can feel—the only thing you can bring yourselves to care about. and before you know it, nanami slips his tongue in your mouth, further intensifying the kiss.

he suckles on your tongue a few times, delicately moving his soft lips against yours with a gentle sense of vigor.

you pull away first, chest heaving up and down as you try and try to catch you breath, yet it never comes because each drive into your cunt steals the air you’ve so desperately tried to regain, and it’s not soon before you start to see stars.

“oh, god, ken,” you mewl out, still shaken up from the kiss and now, with the added weight of his onslaught of thrusts, it feels like the clash of adrenaline mixed with a growing blend of euphoria. “i’m almost there.” your abdomen tightens in preparation for what’s to come, legs quivering and muscles aching as nanami hoists your legs up on his waist, aiding his cock in its mission to hit your g-spot as many times as he can.

“yeah?” he whispers, head falling back in pleasure whilst he screws his eyes shut, drinking in the feeling and sounds that you so gracefully allow him to feel and hear.

in a matter of seconds, the euphoric wave that is your orgasm washes over you, sweeping you along in the waters of pleasure. you’re soon cradled back to shore, panting heavily as you look up at nanami.

“inside me,” you coax, moaning in satisfaction as not even a second later you feel his hot, sticky seed fill you unreservedly, the load trailing down your thighs messily.

you both laugh it off, and nanami plants a sweet kiss to your temple, sighing as he pulls away.

“thank you, my love.” he mumbles into your perspired skin, burying his nose in the mountain of your breasts. “i needed this.”

“anything for you, and you don’t have to thank me. you work hard, kento, you deserve this and so much more.” your words come out more drastic than you mean, although nanami doesn’t take any offense.

he smiles, a real smile that bares his teeth and turns his eyes into crescents—a smile that, so far, only you’ve been able to wring out of him.

“mhm,”

taking in the moment, you reconcile with the same silence that had woken you.

“still,” kento grins, peering over at you mischievously. “did you think a little hair would stop me?”

for a second, you’re not sure what he’s talking about, but as soon as you do, he’s quickly nudged in the chest with your elbow.

“you’ll be actually sleeping on the couch tonight.”

#enphirial #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami #jjk s2 #jjk nanami #jjk season two #jjk kento #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk season 2

[mystellenia]

hello love!! hope you're doing well :)

can i request ellie x reader first time? not having found the right moment for a while, maybe reader bought lingerie for ellie? fluffy would be nice :)

first time with needy!ellie ୨ৎ

summary: you and ellie cuddle up on the couch for a night in but it escalates quickly to become your first time together. you're shocked when ellie says she has a surprise for you...

content: fingering (r receiving), cunnilingus (r receiving), a little bit of loser!ellie being like sheepish with starting things, then quickly replaced by needy!ellie 🤤🤤 that's about it hehe

notes: like no plot, jumping STRAIGHT in 💕 eventual smut under the cut. sorry to the anon who requested this because it took so long to be able to update it since daddy tumblr decided to shadowban me. ALSO sorry because the request asked for ellie to be the one wearing the lingerie, but... i just can't imagine that and then write that when seattle and santa barbara ellie exist... i hope the change wasn't too bad <33

(wc 2.3k)

the windows rattled from consistent gusts of wind, chilling drafts seeping in through the edges. the weather had been particularly bad the past week, alternating between heavy downpour and whistling winds. with this, you and ellie mostly stayed in, cooped up in the comfort of fleece blankets and old cable reruns. 

the two of you now sat on the couch, your intertwined legs covered by the large throw blanket the two of you shared. ellie absentmindedly traced figure-eights on your upper thigh where her hand rested, her arm draped limply over your waist. you glance up to watch the colors of the tv dance across her face, painting multicolored hues on the freckled apples of her cheeks. reaching up, you delicately rake her hair back from her face, your hand trailing down to cup the back of her neck.  

at this, ellie rears her head back to catch your stare from where your cheek lay on her chest, your eyes flicking between both of hers. “hi,” she prompts with a curious tilt of her head, a lazy smile teasing her lips. 

you hum in response, your gaze tracing the freckles adorning the high points of her face, the caramel flecks arranged like a constellation—a constellation you’d recognize in the dark, like a fingerprint.  

ellie moves to grab your chin and press her lips to yours in a slow and simple kiss. after a moment, she pulls back to swipe her thumb over your cheek and drags her hand back to cradle your head.  

“you’re just so pretty,” she mumbles while looking at your lips, her eyes quickly flicking up and slightly widening in realization that she’d said that out loud. you smooth her hair back with both hands before interlinking your fingers behind her neck, and a rosy blush covers her cheeks at your silent stare. you pull her back in by her shoulders, feeling the heat radiating through the thin cotton of her long-sleeved henley. her tongue prods the seam of your lips in permission, which you readily grant as you give an open-mouthed kiss.  

in no time at all, the kiss grows rushed and desperate, your hands tangling in her hair and hers clawing at your shoulders. your hands begin their way down her back when she abruptly pulls away in what seems to be self-restraint, her eyes screwed tightly shut as she rests her forehead on yours. 

“hey, hey, i’m here,” you assure, easing her back to meet your eyes.  

“i’m sorry,” she starts, “i just… i…” she trails off as she finally looks into your eyes, brows drawn together tightly in almost pain. the vibrant green of her eyes had almost entirely vanished, replaced by the black of her blown pupils, her intentions now clearer than ever. 

it wasn't like you two hadn't kissed; of course you had. they'd even gotten heated like this very kiss, but ellie had never displayed such hunger in her eyes, such restraint.  

you guys didn't want to rush anything. after all, you had all the time in the world together, so why speed through things when you could take your time exploring each other? 

but now you were ready. you had been for a while, and you find the words leaving you before you even realize what it means. 

“yes,” you breathe out, eyes darting across her face in anticipation as you await her response. she begins to ask what you mean but is cut off by your hands on either side of her face pulling her into a bruising kiss, teeth clashing in a fervent dance, answering any unspoken questions.  

she deeply hums into the kiss, grabbing on to your wrists and easing you back to lay against the cloth cushions of the couch. fingers teasing the hem of your shirt, she swiftly pulls it over your head and discards it somewhere in the room, leaving you in your simple bralette as she returns to her brutal determination in dismantling you. 

you thumb the waistband of your sleep shorts, your fingers beginning to untie the bow securing them to your hips. ellie watches you shimmy your shorts down your legs slack-jawed, then pauses their journey down, blurting out, “wait, wait. i have something for you.” 

she darts off you and into your shared bedroom, beckoning you with a call of your name. you enter the room to a dark blue gift bag on the bed with a name written on it in gold script that you wouldn’t even try to pronounce. pushing the black tissue paper aside to peek in, your eye catches on the lacy strap of what seemed to be a bra, a shade of red so dark it looked black in the dimmed light of the bedroom. 

fidgeting with her hands, ellie finally addresses you. “it’ll look nice, i think. go try it on,” she instructed, her head nodding to the cracked bathroom door. 

you follow her instructions and head to the bathroom with the small gift bag in tow, the door shutting behind you with a click. you’re met with your reflection, eyes wide and mouth agape in desire. setting the bag on the counter, you begin to remove the tissue paper to reveal the set. with the better lighting of the bathroom, you begin to see the intricacy of the lace and stitching.  

pulling the bra out, you hold it up to your chest and examine it in the mirror. a wine-red bustier style bra greets you, with tulle panels along the sides and laces running down the back for corset-style tightening. setting the bra down, you reach for the matching panties of the same red color. along with them comes a garter belt embellished with silver decals, laced scalloping trimming the edges. 

after taking a moment to gather yourself, you begin to carefully slip on the pieces of the set, careful not to tear anything. you secure the bra and position the garter belt to sit snugly on your hips and smooth your hands down your body in satisfaction; it did look nice.  

you quickly wipe the giddy smile off your face at the thought of ellie’s reaction and fix your hair, finally turning to exit the bathroom. as the door slowly opens, you see ellie quickly standing up from the bed to meet you, her chest caving at her audible gasp as her gaze leisurely rakes down your figure. suddenly shy, you glance at your feet and trail your hands down your sides to dry them off.  

trying to calm the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders, she shuts her mouth and begins her journey towards you, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. “jesus,” she hisses, her hands landing on your lace clad hips and venturing to your lower back to pull you into a slow but sensual kiss, evoking a shudder to rake down your spine.  

she spins you around to walk you back to the bed, the blanket tickling the backs of your thighs as she folds over you. as she crawls over you, both of her legs tighten around one of your thighs as she nudges her knee into your core, pressing your damp underwear to your clit and making you moan into her mouth. her kisses move to your neck, and you cage her head in with your forearms, hugging her head and willing her to stay where she was. her hand moves to your left breast to experimentally swipe a thumb over your nipple, the friction from the lace making you arch your back into her hand to chase the sensation. 

ellie slowly but surely pulls back to give you a starved stare, her arousal visible in the flush of her cheeks and the huffs and puffs of her chest. your eyes meet hers as she gives you one loaded stare—a silent plead for permission to take things further. her cold palms slide from their previous position on your boobs down to your waist, then your hips as she pushes the hem of your underwear down just a hair. you place your hand over hers, agreeing with her unspoken words as you move her hand with hers to push your underwear down to your mid-thigh.  

her hand stutters on its way down your thigh, stopping your underwear on its journey off your body. she simply stares at you, at your glossy cunt and how swollen it is from neglect. her index finger trails through the crease of your thigh and hip, created by your bent and spread knees. 

you take over and completely remove your underwear and fling it to a corner of the room. ellie quickly pulls her tank top over her head, leaving her in just a sports bra and startling you in the process from the sudden movement. 

finally, her hand moves to your core while she swipes a thumb up your slit, eliciting a throaty moan from you. she begins circling your clit, her gaze locked on your face and feeding off of your little whines and cries. you fold over and yelp when she inserts her middle finger inside you, her thumb still expertly moving around your pulsing nub.  

her fingers still moving in tandem on you, she breathes, "god, you have no idea how pretty you look right now. my pretty, needy girl." you moan at her words, and she nods, as if approving of your reaction and asking for more. 

the finger moving inside you was just constantly hitting that soft, spongy spot that she found so effortlessly, and you desperately clawed at her wrist and pleaded, "waitwaitwait- el i’m- i’m gonna-" she kisses you to shut you up, but ultimately obliges as she slows her movements down to a stop. 

she brings her fingers up to look at the mess you've made of them, then moves them to your mouth before ordering, "clean 'em up, baby." 

you do just that, propping up on your elbows to take her fingers in your mouth and swirl your tongue around them, humming at the tangy taste. looking up through your lashes, you see her face and how her bottom lip is pulled into her mouth, how her eyes lazily focus on yours. 

she lays down beside you and pats her chest before saying, "come sit." 

"what?" you question. 

"come sit—like on my face," she clarifies. 

"oh, i- you don't have to do that." 

"i know that, i want to," she insists. "now come on." 

she grabs your waist to guide you up as you straddle her torso, the cloth of her sports bra deliciously tickling your glistening cunt. as you shimmy up, she locks her hands under and around your thighs, strapping you close to her mouth.  

her warm breath feathers across you, and you stifle a shudder at the sensation. you feel her nose touch your clit and you jump up, causing her to huff in frustration. 

"i swear, if you don't fucking—" she pulls you by your thighs to sit flush against her mouth, "—sit down." you harshly drop against her lips and she hums into your vulva, making you groan against the back of your hand. 

you nearly scream as she licks one flat stripe up your slit, then your hands shoot out to catch your weight as your body threatens to fold flat over when she starts making out with your cunt. kissing on you as she would do on your mouth. your knees lock around her head as you thread your fingers into her muddy hair, rocking into her sloppy kisses. 

the room now smelled of sex, your moans and cries dancing with the vulgar smacks of her tongue. she switches from sloppy kisses to calculated flicks, her tongue bringing you closer to the edge just so. 

the vibrations of her pleased moans on your clit make your legs twitch each time, and she speeds up her movements, moving down to begin fucking into you with her tongue. your body takes over as you rock into her mouth, riding the slow buildup of pleasure while rolling your hips for your clit to meet her nose with every back-and-forth.  

but when ellie sucks on your clit so hard it makes you see stars, your orgasm catches you by surprise and drowns you in an all-consuming wave of ecstasy, your vision blurred by unshed tears as you cry her name out. she doesn't stop, though—her tongue continues its violent assault, sliding through your folds with ease thanks to your endless supply of slick. 

once you come down from your high and your eyes focus once more, you see ellie's eyes, still closed, and her tongue peeking out as she cleans you up in long, flat strips. her hands guide you off her to lay on the bed next to her.  

perched up on her elbow, she looks down at you and chuckled at how you still struggled to catch your breath.  

"jesus, you taste good. i can't believe we went that long without doing anything," she announces, looking lovingly at how your hair splays around you in a halo. 

"yeah," you breathlessly respond, "that was... that- i was..." you resort to just shaking your head to convey your disbelief at her sheer skill. 

"did i fuck the words out of you?" she teases, earning an annoyed glare from you. "relax," she laughs, "i'm just playing. you don't have to answer, i already know i did," she mumbles. you would fight her on it but can't seem to find the energy to when she scoops you into her arms and kisses the crown of your head. 

ellie's "g'night, my love" is the last thing you hear before falling into a deep sleep, warm from her embrace. 

a/n: so glad to get this OUT OF MY FUCKING DRAFTS i got this req prob 19 years ago and i've just had the worst writers block. i hope u like it anon :)))

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

#mystellenia 𐑂°‧₊ #elle answers 𐑂°‧₊ #loser!ellie #needy!ellie #ellie #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #abby #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x you #abby x y/n #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson the last of us

[oliviajdjarin]

Azriel Shadowsinger: Sex Habits

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Headcanons (more like a bunch of imagines) about how Az treats his mate in the bedroom and otherwise.

Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut, smuuuuuuut. Azriel is a switch, so is reader, swearing, lord of bloodshed cameo. This is pretty fucking dirty.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Thank you @cherryjain17 for this amazing, inspiring request. I hope I did it justice.

SJM Masterlist

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated &lt;3

(pic from pinterest)

Morning

-I am of the opinion that Azriel fucks you differently depending upon the time of day.

-Let's start with morning, shall we?

-Azriel is a scheduled, reliable male. Training in the morning, always, no matter the night he had before. He owed it to his High Lord to always be ready for a fight - physically, and mentally. His constant, consistent training was how he maintained that.

-However, what Rhys didn't know about what he partook in before training wouldn't hurt him.

-When Az would wake in the morning next to your - usually naked - sleeping, curled, warm body, hair sprayed across the pillows, scent unique to you filling his lungs, face painted in pure elation and serenity...

-...yeah, he would get a little hard.

-The best was when you would wake up with him, eyes dull with sleep, but their color still bright. A small, languid smile on your face. He couldn't help but touch you in that moment, his body begging him to satisfy every sense he had with the feeling of you.

-He would begin with your face, dragging the knuckle of his pointer finger across your cheekbone. Opening his palm to feel the entirety of your cheek. Tracing down the column of your throat with his pointer finger. Painting across your collarbone with every digit. Cupping your breasts delicately, fondling them, massaging them. Dragging fingers down the center of your stomach, heating up every inch of it before finally...

-...yeah, I think we get it.

-The interesting thing about sex in the morning with Azriel is that, although it begins slow, he goes fucking fast in the mornings. Pounding his fingers into you over and over again, your cum dripping down his fingers and wrist. When he finally tastes you, it's a feast. Sloppy and wet and messy and you're groaning and he's smiling so fucking big. He gets you right on the edge of euphoria before pulling back and pressing a quick kiss to your lips and turning you around, face pressed against your soft pillow, and plunging himself inside of you without a drop of mercy.

-(All of this happens within minutes because, like I said, he's got a schedule to keep).

-As he ravages you, pumping in and out and in and out faster than your brain can process, he fucking sweats. It drips down his back, down his face, across his lips, down his chest, everywhere. Your still drowsy body loves when you scrape your nails down it, coating your palms with it and fucking up his previously clean, fluffed hair with it.

-The finest, perfect part about his sex in the morning is that, even though it's rough, quick, rabid, he holds you close the entire time. He cradles your head in his forearms, litters your spine in passionate, lingering kisses, holds your hips like a cracking sculpture, caresses your scalp, thighs, and lower back.

-It is a paradox; rough yet gentle, greedy yet giving, horrid yet beautiful, quick yet endless, and hateful, yet some of the most loved you ever feel by him.

-When he finishes, and you finish multiple times, he departs you with only a kiss, and rushes down the stairs to make it in just enough time for Cassian to not suspect anything.

-He gives you smirks and winks all day anyway, much to your chagrin.

Afternoon

-Around mid to late afternoon is when Azriel tends to get an itch.

-An itch to step away from it all: his desk, his tasks, his responsibilities.

-Sometimes this itch can be scratched by something simple: a walk around Velaris, or a flight, a cup of cocoa, or even a quick nap.

-Other times, however, this metaphorical itch can only be scratched by the exclusive, spectacular taste of his mate.

-And luckily for you, Azriel is the fucking king of quickies.

-He finds you within minutes, utilizing the convenient bond cemented in his very bones, and conveys his desires with only a look.

-Some days, you decline. Too busy with work, too tired from a night previous, or just plainly not in the mood.

-On these days, Azriel understands. He leaves you respectfully, always with a short kiss and a silent promise of "later" permeating in the air.

-On the days where you do accept, however, is when Azriel truly lights on fire.

-The caveat to quickies with Azriel, however, is that he cannot risk any...leakage onto his clothing. Whether that be cum, spit, or otherwise.

-Frankly, you couldn't either. The both of you took your jobs and professionalism too seriously.

-Which is what makes these quickies so fucking good.

-He kisses you, hard, and lifts you under your ass against his waist to press you against a nearby wall, covering the both of you in shadow. He kisses you until your head spins before unzipping whatever top you have on, and claiming the shit out of your breasts.

-Gods how he loves your breasts.

-He kisses and licks, nibbles and bites, marks and marks and marks you all over your chest and ribcage, whispering words dripping in honey.

-"All mine, these are all mine, aren't they?"

-"Never going to get enough of these - enough of you."

-"I can hear your heart, baby. Need a break?"

-"Fuck you," you respond, your matching smiles and shining eyes giving away your infectious joy.

-He kisses your tits long enough to make your mouth go dry from hanging open so long, before finally making his way up to your throat, whispering "mine" along the column.

-Never leaving a mark.

-He kisses around your pulse, and sometimes you kiss around his as well, before finally recolliding his mouth with your own, and kissing you like a male starved. Mapping you like a cartographer exploding a new land. Rejoicing in the mix of your skin and your mouth on his tongue like a male on his knees in prayer.

-You would think just kisses from him wouldn't count as a quickie, but with how thoroughly and religiously and hungrily he does, you come close to release every time.

-The both of you counted it.

-On days when his cartography becomes too much to bare, or the ego in your chest roars at the thought of him getting you so close to release by just his kisses, your fingers finagle their way to the tent growing in his pants, and palm him through the leather.

-Azriel felt that, as long as your mouth was not on him, he could control himself. The bar of professionalism would be met, and the risk of leakage would be next to none.

-But you have never been one not to test a theory, especially in the name of science.

-You palm him so wretchedly ferociously and savagely that you can practically sketch the exact curve, vein, and girth of his bulge. That's how hard he gets through his pants. You wonder if there is any blood left for his brain.

-You even push him away from you and lick him through the leather, never enough to stain his pants, but enough for him to feel the heat of your tongue cupping his balls and dragging across his dick.

-Still, he never comes, not once; however, that didn't mean he didn't retaliate.

-On days when you'd suck him off this way, he strikes back like a true Illyrian warrior.

-Unforgiving, and calculated.

-He guides you away from him, and does the exact same thing to you.

-Fingers you through your pants, pressing the fabric so taught against your clit you thought you would explode, before pulling his hand away, and replacing it with his mouth. Licking your folds through the fabric, nudging your clit with his nose, devouring and consuming you through the protection of one tiny piece of fabric.

-The mix of heat and fabric is so delicious that, every time, he leaves you near tears.

-He pulls away from you slowly, makes sure you can stand on two feet, and with one last kiss to your cheek, he backs away from you.

-"Later," he whispers, one of his shadows drying the tears staining your hot cheeks. "I want more of you later. I want more of you always."

-You always somehow return to the task you were attempting to accomplish previously, mind puddy, hands shaking, and breasts deliciously sore.

Night

-So yes, Azriel likes to fuck you fast. Leave you wanting more. Drooling for him. Pooling on the floor. Left on shaking knees. Departing from you with only a few words.

-But his favorite, most beloved way to fuck you is to make love to you. Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you love.

-And that is how he does it at nighttime.

-But, I am getting ahead of myself.

-After long days of meetings, missions, planning, or even just boring paperwork, there is nothing he adores more than a quiet, serene dinner with you. He enjoys cooking the meal himself, usually making something one of you has mentioned having a recent craving for, and absolutely beaming when you finally walk through the door.

-You join him in the kitchen, and immediately wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He holds you close, breathing in the products in your hair, and kissing the top of your head.

-"How was your day?" you ask him.

-He's honest. Somedays he says "good," somedays he says "okay," and somedays he just sighs.

-You don't usually ask him to elaborate on those days unless you get the feeling that he wants to, but no matter what, he always asks you the question back.

-You are always honest with him too.

-After that, he finishes off dinner, and the two of you eat. Some nights it's full of conversations, sometimes superficial, like how the weather has been, but sometimes they're deep. Deep enough that sometimes he wonders if your words are able to reach inside of his brain and stroke it, hitting it exactly where he needs to be challenged, praised, or questioned.

-It was unreal every time, how well you knew him.

-Other nights, however, were coated in comfortable silence. Maybe you were both too tired to talk, or too content, or couldn't think of much to say. He never minded. If there was anything he could appreciate, it was happy, wonderful, comfortable silence. It was a sign that his day had come to an end, he had kept his Court and his people safe, and he had done at least something right.

-And what better way to bask in the safety of silence than with the person who knows you better than anyone, and the person you have more love for than stars in the sky.

-After the two of you have full stomachs, he always leads you to your shared bedroom by his arm, and pushes your chair in for you.

-Your face heats every time. Without fail.

-So does his.

-He leads you to the bedroom and kisses you once, twice, three times, before departing to take care of the dishes. He pictures how you make the mundane, simple task of getting ready for bed so godsdamn beautiful: your face cleaned, your hair refreshed, your breath newly minted, and your shoulders and jaw relaxed. A timeless beauty. A vulnerable sight, only for him.

-He finishes up and heads back to you, hands clean and soul at ease. He finds you already in bed; maybe reading, maybe writing, maybe already closing your eyes.

-He gets ready for bed himself, making sure his teeth and tongue are brushed thoroughly.

-Some nights, that is it. He joins you in bed and you drift off together, holding each other close at the beginning of the night, and closer in the morning. Smiles on your faces. Soft snores escaping you. Bodies breathing in sync.

-But not most nights.

-Most nights, after him joining you in bed, you pull him in, and kiss him so softly he barely feels it.

-But it's there.

-"Touch me, Azriel," you whisper, "and let me touch you."

-And he lets you.

-The kisses start soft, just lips on lips, before your tongue breaks his lips apart, and your bodies begin to warm up. Either he lays you down on your back or you push him down, either way, one of you gets on top of the other, and the two of you begin to do nothing less than venerate each other.

-So much kissing, so much feeling each other up and down; down each other's backs, across each other's faces, through each other's hair, across each other's stomachs, and so much breathing and groaning against each other's skin.

-This is all before a scrap of clothing comes off.

-When it does, however, Azriel undresses you like a nurse would undress a wound. Almost in slow motion, so he can take a peek at how every inch of your body looks that day. Maybe you gained a bruise, a scratch, a freckle, or a stretch mark. Either way, he wanted to make note of every inch of your body, memorizing every way your skin moved or wrinkled, your muscles flexed. He needs the image of you in his mind constantly updated.

-You do the same to him. Collecting every change in his body and adding them to his mental schema.

-When all of your clothes are finally off, and his mate stands before him completely raw, is when he begins to lose control of his mouth.

-"Gods, have you always looked like this?"

-"So warm, so soft."

-"How come every time I see you, I feel like I've spent my entire life blind?"

-His claim of never needing to resort to poetry holds true, but that doesn't mean he isn't damn good at it.

-After minutes and minutes of leaving hickeys, kisses, and indents on each other, so much so that both of your lower stomachs have begun to boil and your lungs are gasping for air, is when Azriel pulls away.

-"Can I?" he asks as he presses his forehead against yours, his hazel eyes glowing and his bulge pressed against your slick. You nod, smiling, and with one last kiss, he slides home.

-And fuck does he go nauseatingly slow.

-Even if you're on top, he ensures you pierce yourself with him with purpose, sliding his dick all the way in, all the way out, and all the way in, over and over and over.

-It was fucking heaven how well he fit in you, how he got you so wet you didn't even need to try, how deep his dick goes inside of you...

-...and how he has no qualms about never shutting the fuck up.

-Especially when you're on top - the view of you sliding him in and out of you, your body fully open to him to admire, and face at his disposal to kiss and whisper into.

-"My mate, oh my mate."

-"Right there, do you feel that? Fuck you take me so well."

-"My gods look at us, look at me in you."

-"You like that? Right there? I fucking love you. My mate. My love. My soul."

-As I said, poetry.

-One thing he never fails to take advantage of is the full-length mirror leaning against your wall, giving the both of you the perfect menu of angles to view yourselves.

-I think you know where this is going.

-"Look at us, baby. Look at us."

-"You're so fucking beautiful."

-"Look at yourself when you take me inside you."

-He goes on and on, drunk on the feeling of you, diminishing him of any sort of filter.

-I cannot imagine any reason you would want to shut up the most private, silent male in all of Prythian while he's sprouting sweet nothings to you, but if you do, there's one surefire way to do it.

-Reaching out your pointer and middle finger, only two fingers are necessary, and tracing thin lines down the veins in his wings.

-Never will you ever see him go so silent so quickly. His cheeks instantly redden and his voice escapes him. His cock begins to twitch inside you, his grip on either you or the sheets becomes so fierce his scarred knuckles turn a milk white, and his mouth falls open.'

-He becomes immediately and totally helpless.

-The two of you begin to fuck harder then, chasing the high the both of you are so close to, fucking into each other faster and faster and faster until finally you are coming on his cock, and he is spraying across your thighs.

-Finding release with a mate is different than any other - it is blinding, hot, and immeasurably pleasurable. It fills every vein in your body with a molten rapture, forcing you to collapse into his body, and his own to collapse onto yours. The bond within both of your chests throbbing in delight like a second heartbeat.

-After a few moments of you practically regaining consciousness, his warm, sweat covered body begins to move against you, making sure your head is comfortable on a pillow and your body is flat. He then presses kisses all across your face, etching a smile onto your face.

-"I still believe," he whispers against your temple, "that I will never get enough. I love you I love you I love you."

-The smell of sex and sweat vanquishes your nostrils as you stand up and head to the bathroom, Az's eyes burning holes through your skin.

-By the time you return, Azriel's arms are open to you, and you tuck yourself in. He holds you impossibly close, his miniscule chest hair rubbing against your cheek. His wings add a second layer of protection.

-Your body begins to fade, but your mind lingers a little longer to process one final statement whispered into your hair.

-"Gods, never allow me to be parted from her."

Taglist: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy@seraphqueen @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @xxpeachyxo @evlyncelia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @redhighlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-sculptorture @wolfyland7 @are-y0u-serious-blog @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff @simplysensual @hernameispa @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5 @saphiraprince22 @azsazz​ @thatonespriteobsessedbitch​ @moisyinfluencerstrawberry @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ @azsazz

#azriel x oc #huge azz #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf fanfiction #sjm books #crescent city #throne of glass imagines #cassian fanfic

[dre6ming]

Wedding

The delicate beginning rush

A/n: I just received a request for Austin and reader making wedding plans and being all cute and fluffy, so by this post I’m telling you to be in the lookout cause it’s coming

Masterlist

Instagram photo dump masterlist

Taglist -add yourself to the tag list to see more posts

y/n4real.2002

Liked by austinbutler taylorswift and 1.256.637 others

y/n4real.2002 cause when you know, you know... #oneyear

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austinbutler you are so beautiful it takes my breath away

↪︎y/n4real.2002 I love you truly

↪︎fan283 they are so sweet I love them

↪︎fan.austin it's been 11 years guys and these two are still crazy about the each other

taylorswift oh what a beautiful blushing bride

↪︎y/n4real.2002 haha thanks I had the best maids of honor

↪︎billieeilish ofc you did bitch

↪︎roxanne.02_b1tch like hell you did, we should also get an appreciation post 😤

↪︎y/n4real.2002 oooh my god what have I started

↪︎billieeilish a war

↪︎roxanne.02_b1tch tell her

fan384 she looked so happy

fansof.y/n I'm so happy for them

tchalamet my baby sister looks so dang good

↪︎austinbutler doesn't she always?

↪︎tchalamet don't twist my words Butler, you're on thin ice man

↪︎y/n4real.2002 men ! they never grow up

↪︎fan394 haha rip em them to shreds

y/n4real.2002

Liked by billieeilish taylorswift and 800.838 others

y/n4real.2002 aaaaaand since the kindly (not so kindly) asked to be featured on a post, here's to the greatest bridesmaids!! Love you Tay, Rox and Billie

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billieeilish I look good dang

↪︎y/n4real.2002 good to see you're humble as always 🤣

roxanne.02_b1tch my god how gorgeous your bridal party was

↪︎y/n4real.2002 my friends everyone

↪︎fans3939 haha they are hilarious 🤣

taylorswift I mean we do look so good

↪︎y/n4real.2002 keep up the trend Tay, keep it up 👏

↪︎fan20 I wonder when we'll get pics of Taylor's wedding? 😭🙇‍♀️

↪︎tayfan it's been 6 years almost, so probably never

↪︎taylor13 😭😭 noooo

austinbutler so happy to have you in my life

↪︎y/n4real.2002 I love you too 🫶

↪︎fan100 I miss the times when we were decoding crochet heart emojis 😭

↪︎y/n4real.2002 we still crochet together often

↪︎austinbutler yeah baby blankets all day long

↪︎fan100 I'm crying I love you

↪︎fanofaustin-y/n does this mean they're expecting? 😦

↪︎y/n4real.2002 austinbutler what have you done

↪︎austinbutler ups😬

↪︎tchalamet classic😑

Taglist : @galaxygirl453

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#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #the delicate beginning rush #austin butler fanfiction #austin #austin butler imagine #austin butler love #austin x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin fanfic #austin butler instagram #the delicate beginning rush series #austin butler drabble #austin butler fans #the delicate beginning rush head canons #the delicate beginning rush imagine #the delicate beginning rush instagram #dre6ming writes austin fake instagram #austin butler fake instagram #instagram photo dump

[pandoraslxna]

❄️ Kinkmas - 03. Lingerie/Stockings ❄️

Jake Sully x female omatikaya reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: teasing, age difference, face sitting, scent kink

Jake can’t seem to take his eyes off of you and really, who can blame him if you look like this?

His gaze traces it‘s way up from your delicate ankles, over your calves and up to your soft thighs. His eyes are automatically drawn to the bare strip of smooth skin between the lace-topped stockings and the fringe of those red panties. Your tail nervously curls behind your back, swaying from side to side as he drags his gaze up further, over the garter belt on your hips, and up your stomach and chest, to the deep flustered blush spreading over your cheeks. 

"I‘ve got good taste, don’t you think?" Jake smirks proudly, stepping closer and running his hands along your sides and god damn. He had imagined what you would look like dressed like this dozens -hundreds- of times, but seeing it become reality is something his imagination could never live up to.

"For an old man? Yeah, sure…", you mumble, self-consciously fiddling with the lace of your stocking.

"C’mon. You look fucking fantastic, kid", he grins teasingly. "Delicious enough to eat, actually."

You gulp slightly as his hands tug you close by the straps of your garterbelt, mouth hovering by your ear as he whispers, “What about you, hm? What did you think of my gift?” 

He nips at your ear and neck, almost causing your knees to buckle and you bite your bottom lip to stay focused.

"This is stupid", you grumble, blushing harder as your eyes avoid his lust filled gaze. "I look stupid… in those demon clothes."

Pants and a shirt, that would’ve been one thing, but you hadn’t been prepared for the matching set of human undergarments, lingerie and stockings Jake had called them, as he basically begged you to wear them for him.

Jake laughs at your response, catching you up against him by wrapping one strong arm around your waist. This is all too much, you think, embarrassment burning in your cheeks as you try to pull away, but he only holds you closer. 

"Don’t", he then says seriously. "I’m not laughing at you, I promise. Love that you’re doing this for me." His hands roam down again, gently kneading your ass in both of his big palms and you can’t help but whimper a little.

"You look so hot, baby. Such a pretty little thing, all dressed for me", Jake says breathlessly. "You have no idea what you’re doing to me."

You hum softly, softer than you’d meant, and his eyes snap up to yours. For a moment, his expression shifts from lust to something more tender, and he cups your face in his hands, tilting your face up for a kiss. 

The smile on his face then turns dirty again as he lets a low groan slip, "C‘mon pretty, get your hands on me, help me undress. You deserve a little treat for being such a good girl", he says, eyeing your reaction. You nod, all too eager to feel him properly.

Quickly, you unfasten his loincloth, allowing it to fall, and him to step out of it.

Perching on the edge of his bed, Jake spreads his legs invitingly, stroking his hands from knee to inner thigh, giving a slow tug to his throbbing cock as watches you. "C‘mere, kid."

You pad forward on bare feet, and when Jake leans forward, he places a teasing kiss to your stomach. A shuddering breath leaves your lips as he suddenly begins to trace his tongue around your navel and down to the hem of your lace panties, and it sends a flash of want through you.

Simultaneously, his hands are sliding up the back of your legs to your ass, hands squeezing your cheeks firmly as he hooks one of your legs up to stand on his thigh, while he buries his nose against your mound. His warm breath seeps through the fabric of your panties and you moan as it ghosts over your clit. 

"Fuck, you smell so good", the words come out rushed and you’re almost scared he’s gonna suffocate himself like this. Not that he seemed to mind. "Want you like is", he groans against you, "feels so good against your cute little pussy doesn’t it? You gonna come in those panties for me, baby girl?”

"Y-Yes", you gasp sharply, and it’s all you can manage when Jake starts to grinds his face against your clothes cunt. He groans as his nose rubs against your clit, his tongue gliding over the fabric adds further to the stimulation and you slowly start to ride his face like this. Your hips buck against his mouth and his hands do little to hold you still.

It doesn’t take long until your hands are tugging harshly on his dreads, guiding him to kiss and lick and rub against the spot you needed him most, until it’s all too much– too hot, too good, and it’s been too long since the last time you did this. You can’t help the tremble of your thighs as you soak through the fabric of your panties, coming with a whiny plea of his name, while Jake hungrily groans against into your pussy.

By the way his still lustful gaze meets yours as he licks his lips and pulls your slip aside, guiding you to sit on his cock, you know that this won’t be the last time he‘ll make you wear those strange human clothes. But the delicious stretch of his throbbing cock as he slowly impales you on it, actually makes you look forward to this, even though you would never admit that out loud.

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #Jake sully #atwow #avatar the way of water #Avatar #Avatar 2 #jake sully x female reader smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully avatar #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #jake sully x na'vi reader #dilf jake sully

[onestepbackwards]

Hello Soulmate

🔸Zhongli x Reader Drabble🔸

Summary: You've had a weird soulmark on your wrist since you were young. Who knew it was the soulmark of a god who has waited for you for almost 6000 years?

CW: Fluff, soulmate au

Word Count: 1428 words!

--❤❤❤--

Imagine Zhongli, in all his years alive, has never found his soulmate.

On his chest above his heart, a small bird symbol lays dormant. If it wasn't for the very obvious mark, he'd believe he never had a soul mate to begin with.

But not once in his thousands of years on Teyvat, had it ever lit up, or burned, or glowed. Tell tale signs a soulmate is alive, and that you have met them, or that they were nearby.

His did none of those. It just sat innocently on his chest.

At least it wasn't ashen grey, showing his soulmate had passed.

He had long grown not to expect his soul mate to appear. Zhongli did have hope after becoming an Archon, hoping that would make finding you easier.

But you never once showed up.

Eventually time went on, and he no longer felt hope.

Well, that would be a lie.

He felt hope, but it had long since grown into a warm, smoldering coal, instead of the blazing fire it once was.

The dragon knew if he were to still meet you in this life, he would love and cherish you, excited beyond belief.

But that day had yet to come.

So with a heavy heart, he went through with the death of Rex Lapis.

It was one of the most difficult decisions he had ever made. But it had to be done, regardless if he truly wanted to step down or not.

Erosion would eventually come its way for him, much like it had done to Azhdaha. It was best to let his country grow on its own two legs, and be prepared for when that day came, whether it be in a hundred years, or a thousand.

A part of him worried you would come, only when he was beginning to wither.

Zhongli didn't want you to see him like that. You already missed him in his prime, but he had nightmares of meeting his soul mate when his mind started to erode.

But it had to be done.

He wasn't too surprised to see your mark on his human vessel, though he still felt so empty. Deep down, he yearned to hold his soulmate, even now.

So when he was sipping tea one day, taking his time for an order for Director Hu, he dropped his tea cup when he felt a burn on his chest, right above his vessels heart.

His eyes widen as he reaches up to touch the spot. For once, he curses himself for wearing so many clothes.

He's leaving the tea house he is in, uncaring if the mora he slammed down on the table was enough to cover his meal. Rushing to his small home he had bought years ago, Zhongli slams through the door, almost stumbling to his room.

Ripping off his clothes, he shakes as he sees it in the mirror.

Your soulmate mark, alive and glowing warmly on his chest.

He stares in wonder, fingers gently reaching up, touching the delicate looking mark with awe.

You were real. You were alive. You were close by.

Old instincts pushed at the boundaries in his mind, and he forced them back down.

Not now. You were alive. You were real. He had time.

Rex Lapis waited 6000 years for you. Zhongli could wait just a little longer.

Meanwhile, you had an odd soulmate mark, ever since it first materialized as a child.

It was the Geo symbol. Just that, the Geo symbol.

Your parents had been stumped since the mark showed itself, on the inside of your wrist clear as day.

It glowed a stunning amber, and was outlined in black. Whoever it was, was alive and well.

Most marks had very interesting meanings. But THE Geo symbol?

It had your parents scratching their heads.

Not once had anyone you met had any symbol similar. Never had anyone seen a mark of one of the elemental sigils.

As you got older, it only brought more questions than answers.

Though you remember talking about it with a friend in the bar in Mondstadt, when the bard there asked about it when he saw it on your wrist in passing.

"You know... It might be someone from Liyue that uses a Geo vision. Or maybe an adeptus that works with Rex Lapis? Who knows, maybe even Rex Lapis himself?"

The bard then laughed, and your face went red at the remark. You? Being able to claim a god as your soulmate? Please.

The head of the bar ended up dragging him away, though the mischievous, almost knowing look that bard sent you over his shoulder had you second guessing yourself.

His words kept whispering in your head. Maybe your soulmate was in Liyue? That was the nation's symbol after all. If anything, it would be a good place to start looking.

After all, you always felt sometimes you had to grab fate by the horns and take control of it yourself.

So when you packed a bag and headed out, your parents tearfully waving goodbye behind you, you didn't think much of it.

If you found them, then you did. If not, you could always go home.

Though you weren't expecting your mark to burn when you stopped to rest at a Statue of the Seven near the harbor. The late Rex Lapis' statue.

A part of your mind grew anxious at this news. Your mark glowing and burning like this.

"Who knows, maybe even Rex Lapis himself?"

The bard's words echoed almost tauntingly in your mind.

You tried not to sadly laugh as you felt the warmth flow through your body.

Of course, if it really was Rex Lapis, it would only be your luck it was a dead god you were tied to. If only you had been a year sooner...

But that didn't mean Rex Lapis' spirit was gone. You had read the papers, and Lady Ningguang had mentioned a dream where he told her about how he had perished.

Or something like that.

Perhaps that was what this was then? Since he was a god, that's why your mark wasn't ashen grey? His spirit was strong enough to live on?

How cruel. If that was what this was, your soulmate was taken from you far too-

"I found you."

You scream as you spin around, and a man with the most gorgeous amber eyes you have ever seen is standing behind you.

He looked a bit disheveled. His clothes almost haphazardly thrown on. You got the impression he normally didn't look like this.

The mark on your wrist pulsed, and your eyes widened.

"You..." You began, though you couldn't think of the words you wanted to say.

The man is quick to unbutton his shirt, and tug it to the side.

When you saw the glowing bird, pulsing on his chest above his heart, you knew.

That mark was yours.

Carefully, you lowered your wrist, and he oh so carefully reached out for it. His hands were so gentle as they took your own, as if you were made of glass.

The spark that followed as a thumb ran across the symbol, left you breathless.

"My symbol..." He murmured, in awe over the small mark.

But you could already tell there was weight behind those words.

His eyes snapped back to your own, and you saw it.

This man... he was older than he looked. Those eyes were the ones of an old soul.

You felt power radiating from him, and your mouth went dry.

"You aren't... human, are you?"

It wasn't so much a question, as it was a statement.

The man blinked, almost in surprise, before he began to laugh.

It was a gentle one, one that had your heart pounding in your chest.

He smiled at you, eyes glowing bright.

"I should have known my soulmate would be able to figure it out first thing."

"Who knows, maybe even Rex Lapis himself?"

Those word rang in your mind once more, and you found yourself speaking before you could think about what you were asking.

"...Rex... Lapis...?" You asked, almost unsure, though the thought somehow felt so right.

His eyes seemed to brighten, along with his smile.

He brought your hand up to his mouth, and kissed the Geo symbol on your wrist, sending shivers through out your body. He then nuzzled against your hand, eyes never leaving your own. The loving look he sent you left you almost breathless.

"Hello, my dear. It's nice to finally meet you."

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #x reader #gn reader #drabble #zed.writes #long post #fluff #was in a Zhongli mood and sent this to my beloved jes before bed #and wanted to post it

[elliesflower]

hii, i love your work so much <3 can u write smth about reader and abby (in a pre established relationship) where readers mind just goes completely blank as she stares at abbys arms when she works out or literally does anything and abby notices and fucks her hard and uses her strength to do whatever she wants with reader? would also be nice if u could write smth about overstimulation <3 i know its not a noticeable detail for this req but pls write black!reader bc i am too and need some abby for myself tysm 🫶

what you need [abby anderson]

pairing; abby x black fem!reader

cw; top!abby, bottom!reader, strap-on usage (r!recieving), overstimulation, dirty talk/gendered pet names, kinda leaning on bimbo/subspace territory

an; thank u so much for this request sweetheart! i hope u enjoy, please let me know what u think!! i'm sorry the ending is a little rushed, i've literally been trying to post this for like three weeks lmfao. also i did not proofread this v well so if u see a mistake no u dont <3

tags; @scandalcus @prrimordiais @roarriita

18+ only, mdni!!!!

you don’t consider yourself weak. 

but when you were looking at abby, perhaps you were. just a bit. 

“babe? the chalk,” abby’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you shook your head slightly, as if it would get rid of them, reaching behind you to grab the chalk before crossing the room to hand it to her. 

“thanks,” she didn’t even look at you, and you almost huffed. you’ve been with her at the gym for what feels like hours now, even though it’s probably only been more like thirty minutes. you started out just walking on the treadmill, but got bored pretty quickly when you realized you could be watching your girlfriend train instead. 

she was training for a pr on her deadlift, and she was getting close. you’d barely seen her this week—when she wasn’t on patrol, she was in the gym. you fell asleep before she got home almost every night, and when you woke up, she was already gone. it was driving you crazy, and now that you were together, she still was barely paying you any mind. 

she rubbed the chalk between her hands, clapping them out on her thighs before positioning herself behind the bar. you sat back down behind her and watched as she bent over, gripping the metal bar, her forearms flexing as she adjusted her grip. you practically had to wipe the drool away from your mouth as you watched her begin to lift, admiring the way her veins popped out from beneath her skin, her shoulders glistening with sweat as her muscles flexed with the effort it took to lift the weights. 

her brows were knit together in concentration as she watched herself in the mirror, gritting her teeth together and keeping her breath as controlled as possible. you couldn’t help but to feel flustered as she panted, imagining the sounds in a…much different context.

the sound of the weights clattering to the ground snapped you out of your head for a second time, and you flinched, watching as abby smiled at herself in the mirror, flexing and slapping her bicep. 

“yeah, that’s right,” she spoke, and oh, that sounded eerily similar to her bedroom voice, “that’s what i’m fucking talking about! did you see that shit?” she turned to face you now, still grinning from ear-to-ear. “beat my pr by forty pounds, i gotta get manny in here tomorrow to verify because that shit is going up on the board.”

you smiled up at her, nodding—but it was kind of hard when you were also focused on pressing your thighs together, trying to ignore the fact that somewhere along the line, your panties had become damp, sticking delicately to your folds as you watched abby training. her mouth twitched just slightly at the corner, and you swallowed. you knew abby could read you like the back of her hand, no matter how hard you tried to hide from her. 

“something wrong, baby?” she asked, feigning concern. her tank top was covered in sweat around the neckline, her forehead glistening under the fluorescents as she walked toward you. you shook your head, a bit too quickly, and it was telling. your throat felt dry, your brain absolutely scrambled as you looked up at her. she stopped directly in front of you, towering over you so that you had to strain your neck to look up at her. if there wasn’t a giant wall of windows to the left of you, you couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t just sink down to your knees and kiss her fucking feet. she looked like an angel—scratch that, god—above you as you watched her through your lashes, stomach tying in knots. 

she wasn’t saying anything. she was just looking at you, breathing heavy, with half of that stupid smile still on her face. you focused your own breathing, in and out, but it didn’t help that she was so close you could smell her, sweaty musk that could only smell good on her, and it was making you dizzy. and she fucking knew it too. 

“alright then,” she said finally, bending down to your level so that your faces were mere inches apart. “what d’you say we go clean up and meet jordan and leah for dinner?” oh, right. there was that. you could only nod, and abby’s eyes were wild, flickering down to your mouth before meeting yours again. 

“let’s go.” her voice was sharp, commanding, and she went to retrieve her gym bag. you sat silently for another moment, trying to will yourself to calm down, just a bit. you knew you’d get back to the room and she wouldn’t be able to resist—she’d have you pinned up against the wall before you could even blink. 

except, she didn’t. she tossed her bag to the ground and began gathering things for her shower, effectively ignoring, even as you changed out of your shirt extra slowly, just waiting for her to turn around and catch you. but she didn’t, and didn’t even say another word as she slipped out the door to take a shower. you scrunch your brows together, lips pouting slightly as you get dressed for dinner, making sure to put on a clean pair of underwear. you were so worked up, part of you wanted to touch yourself, right here and now—but you didn’t even want to think about how long abby might make you wait if she came back and found you knuckle deep in your pussy. so you didn’t.

dinner with leah and jordan was pleasant. leah’s cooking was insane, as always, and jordan and abby caught up on some big assignment that was coming up, still paying you little attention. after dinner, you were excited to get back to your room, practically salivating at the thought of what abby might do to you, but jordan just had to suggest watching a movie. and of course, abby just had to agree. 

you were a bit surprised when abby pulled you onto her lap on the couch, seeing as she had practically been avoiding you like the plague since the gym, and oh—she was packing.

leah rested her head on jordan’s lap on the loveseat beside you, their bodies conveniently angled just so that you were out of view. your eyes widened, breath hitching as abby snaked her arm around your waist, pulling you further back into her as she readjusted her position against the couch, effectively grinding her hips up into you. you bit your lip as you leaned back into her, glancing over at leah and jordan to confirm they couldn’t see you. she smelled like pine and her hair was down, fuck she looked so good with her hair down. 

“wassa’ matter babe?” abby whispered against your neck, and you shivered. “you’re so tense.” she punctuated her point with a hand on your shoulder, her thumb pressing into the junction of your neck. 

“nothing,” you lied, trying to keep your voice quiet and steady. “just watching the movie.” and thinking about abby flipping you over and railing you into next week. but you didn’t say that part. you didn’t even know what movie was playing. 

“mhm,” she murmured behind you, her hand trailing around your middle to meet her other, pressing you even further against her. you could feel her cock pressing into your ass, and you had to bite back a moan. you reached to grasp at her wrists, your fingers not even wrapping around the girth of them, trying to grind your hips for just a little bit of friction—anything, you’d take anything you could get at this point—but she only tightened her grip, halting your movements. 

“stop squirming,” she said quietly. “m’trying to watch the movie.” it was really unfair, how her voice was so steady, and her breathing so even. meanwhile, you thought you might explode, nails digging into her skin as you tried your best to ignore the heat in your stomach, and how you were definitely ruining this pair of panties as well. 

she held you like that, for a few minutes longer, or hours, maybe, how long was this fucking movie? your pussy was clenching and unclenching, your heart beating out of control as you tried to ignore the feeling of abby beneath you to no avail. 

suddenly, thankfully, she relinquished her hold on your waist, smoothing her hands down the expanse of your bare thighs. 

“hey, i’m getting pretty tired. i’ve gotta be up pretty early, i think we’re gonna turn in,” she said over the movie, and jordan craned his neck to look at the pair of you standing up. you really hoped your face didn’t give away how insanely flustered you felt. leah was passed out in his lap, and he gave you both a nod and bid you goodnight. 

in the hallway, abby was back to ignoring you. you could barely keep up with her as she strode ahead. you were aching at this point, genuinely surprised you weren’t leaking straight down your thighs as you watched her back muscles flex beneath her shirt. you loved this game. and she knew it too. 

she stopped just outside your door, leaning against the frame and crossing her arms as she waited for you to unlock it. before you could get both feet through the doorway, she was right behind you, chest pressing against your back as she ushered you inside, closing the door behind her and spinning you around so that she could press you against it. you gasped, flattening your palms against the door as you looked at her, your head trapped between her arms. you burned under her gaze, stomach tightening and legs going weak. 

“don’t think i didn’t see your face in the mirror while i was training,” she said quietly, grabbing the back of your neck to keep your eyes on her. you were so fucking horny you didn’t have the semblance to be ashamed as she all but taunted you.

“hm? just watching me work out gets you all hot and bothered?” you felt like your neck might snap from nodding so hard. abby laughed quietly at you, the sound only turning you on more. 

“yeah i know, because you know i could take you any way i wanted and you wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. so fucking spoiled,” she was teasing you, and you whined. “you’ve been so patient with me this week,” she pressed her lower half against you, using her hand to press the side of your face into the door, making you once again aware of the silicone cock in her pants. she could feel your pulse thrumming against her fingers, exciting her. “gonna make it all better now, okay? i’m gonna give you what you need…” her lips were ghosting over your ear, and you were quite literally trembling in her grasp, taking in a shaky breath as you waited patiently. 

“so good for me,” she grabbed you by the jaw, before she placed a kiss on your lips and pulled back, causing you to let out a pitiful whine. 

“tell me what you want,” her lids were heavy as she looked at you, her poor, poor baby—lips parted, eyes glazed over, panting with a desperate need. you pouted slightly. surely she’d give in, right? she’s already had you waiting for so long. 

she gripped your jaw tighter, making you gasp as she pressed you further into the door. you were helpless, completely at her mercy, her strength always hyper evident when she had you like this. “c’mon, tell me what you want.” you felt tears welling in your eyes, balling your hands into fists as she watched your face. 

“use me,” your voice broke through, small and weak. somehow, abby’s face remained stoic, though you saw her draw in a sharp breath. she pulled her hand away to tap at your cheek, not quite a slap, but enough that you were whining. 

“manners,” she reprimanded, withdrawing her hand completely. you let a tear fall as you were overcome with frustration, emptiness–

“please, use me, please abby, i missed you,” and it was pathetic, how a sob escaped your lips. but it was okay, because you knew she’d make it all better, her eyes going soft for a moment before she was pulling you in, slotting your lips together in a messy kiss. you could taste as your tears mixed with saliva, letting her suck your tongue into her mouth before trailing her hands down to your ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing. 

“jump,” she mumbled against your lips, and you obliged, letting her pull you in as you wrapped your legs around her waist. she carried you across the room with ease, and you couldn’t help but try to press deeper against her lower half.

“so fuckin’ pretty baby,” she mumbled against you, and she was setting you down on the table. “was so hard to not to just bend you over that couch and fuck you like you deserve,” oh god, oh fuck, you were moaning against her mouth, letting her hands find the hem of your shirt before she was pulling it off over your head, exposing your breasts. 

“bet you’d like that, hm? letting me fuck you in front of our friends, show them how dirty you really are?” she rasped, her voice holding a desperate edge. you whined at the notion, the fact that she was just as desperate for you as you were for her. you nodded pathetically as she rubbed a thumb across your sensitive nipples, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you gripped the edge of the table. 

she dipped her head down, swirling her tongue over one of your nipples and you threaded your fingers through her hair, gripping tightly as your head fell back in ecstasy, mouth falling open in a silent moan. she kissed her way back up to your mouth as you panted heavily. she wasn’t even teasing you, she was so desperate, the heat radiating off her body as she continued messily kissing up to your neck, your jaw, back to your mouth where she parted your lips with her own, fumbling with the button of your jeans. 

“yeah, i know baby, i know,” her voice was like velvet, scratchy and soft at the same time against your lips. “just need me to take care of you, huh? that it?” she was practically manhandling you to lift your hips up and pull off your pants and panties, your tailbone connecting rather harshly with the wooden table once you were exposed—you didn’t have the semblance to be embarrassed at how it barely even hurt as your body was overwhelmed with adrenaline, with desire, with abby. 

“yes, god,” you threw your head back, wrapping your legs around her waist to draw her in closer as she sucked a fresh mark into your neck, and then another, and another, leaving you grinding helplessly against her, your wetness allowing you to rub your clit directly against the bulge in her pants. your whining was pornographic, desperate and loud, the friction clouding your mind with ecstasy. “missed you so much, abs, please–”

“fuckin’ needy,” she gritted, pressing on your lower back to get you even closer, eliciting a gasp from your mouth as you clutched onto her shoulder with one hand while the other kept you steady on the table. “barely been a week and you just need it that bad, can’t even wait for my cock?” her words were filthy, and your grinding even filthier, desperate and rough, like you were a bitch in heat—abby’s strong arm was keeping you in place as you took your pleasure, the feeling overwhelming your body as you panted and gasped, and oh, since when were you able to cum this fast? “c’mon baby, that’s it– take what you need, i got you.”

it must have barely been five seconds before you were losing it, body tensing as your hips stuttered, feeling your wetness absolutely drenching the front of abby’s pants. “oh m’godm’godfuckingchrist–” you babbled incoherently as she held you through it, murmuring praises and trying to hide her own groans by biting down into your shoulder. your used clit was puffy and sore against the rough fabric of her pants as you came down, whining as abby reached between your bodies. 

“such a fucking good girl, my god,” she praised, giving you no time to recover as she ran her fingers through your slick folds. you moaned, your thighs closing around her arm instinctively as she explored your wetness, slipping two fingers inside with ease. 

“abby, s’too much, please,” your voice was pitiful, broken and whiny as you gripped her arm, your words inconsistent with the way your walls fluttered around her fingers as she opened you up, unable to resist her, even when it felt like too much—because you know it wasn’t too much. in fact, maybe it wasn’t enough. abby knew your body, exactly how you needed to be taken apart, brought to your peak and taken care of.

“yeah? you don’t want this then?” she taunted, and took her fingers out so that she was just teasing your entrance. 

“no!” you gasped, the empty feeling making your stomach twist, tears streaming down your face. “please, i- i can take it, please, i’m sorry,” you begged, would practically say anything or do anything at this point. but you knew abby wouldnt make you wait long, smirking at you before pressing her fingers back in just as quickly as she’d pulled out. she couldn’t resist you, especially after not having you for an entire week. 

“i know you can baby, such a good girl,” she was working her fingers into you rapidly now, determined to make you come on her fingers again before she impaled you on her strap.and it wouldn’t take long, what with your sensitive cunt being abused again. you were shaking, could feel your wetness pooling beneath you, ruining the table as you moaned and panted. “c’mon, let go for me baby, let go,” her voice washed over you, started as the sweat on your hairline until it was making your stomach twist, your thighs tremble and your toes curl, your pussy gushing out for the second time already that night. 

“fuck,” you whined, clenching desperately around nothing as she pulled her fingers out of you, digging your nails into her shoulder as she ran a finger over your swollen clit again, making you gasp out her name, broken and pitiful. your heart was beating out of your chest, watching abby draw her fingers up to your mouth. your lips parted automatically, allowing her to press her fingers in, pressing down on your tongue as you sucked your juices off of her. 

“yeah, that’s it,” she breathed. “clean up your mess baby.” so full of love and adoration, but she wanted more. you could see it in her eyes as they flashed something wild, and knew she wasn’t planning on stopping. watching your pleasure was doing something to her she couldn’t even explain, practically moaning at the sight and feeling of you sucking on her fingers.

you were tired, your multiple orgasms after a dry spell catching up to you quickly, and abby could sense your sudden change in demeanor—your eyes drooping slightly as you sucked lazily on her fingers, your index finger holding onto one of her belt loops to keep you upright. you were a sight, your juices spilled all over the table, your thighs sticky and messy with your arousal. she almost took pity on you, almost. but she knew her good girl could take just one more. 

and you knew it too, what with the way she was looking at you. the thought made you feel dirty, and made you moan around her fingers, grasping on her wrist as you started sucking on them just a little bit harder, that little flame in your tummy igniting once more. you watched abby’s eyes darken as you sped up, her chest rising and falling quicker as she felt your tongue wrapping around her fingers.

“oh m’god, baby,” she groaned, and she withdrew her fingers, a string of saliva dribbling down your chin as she shuffled backwards to undo her pants. “i gotta fuck you baby, gotta give you what you deserve,” she was rambling as you leaned back on your elbows, your legs twitching as the cool air washed over your damp pussy, on display for your girlfriend. “gonna give you this cock baby don’t worry.”

“please abby,” and unspoken was please take care of me, please fuck me, please do anything you want to me, and she would. there was no doubt. you could barely see the black silicone spring free from down the line of your body as you were laid back on the table. 

“i know baby, i know,” abby gripped your hip with one hand, her blunt nails digging into the flesh with a delicious sting, and you tried to pull back when the tip of her strap brushed over your over-sensitive clit. it made your brain all fuzzy, your whole body tingling with the over-sensitivity, the push and pull of wanting more but feeling so used. “just let me in, you can take it,” she was practically cooing, teasing your entrance as you writhed on the table, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to watch. 

“abby!” you cried as she pushed past the tight ring of muscle, your back arching so that you sat up higher, the angle pressing her cock right against your most delicate spot. abby’s hand immediately came around to your back, holding you up before you dead-weighted and hit your head on the wooden table. 

“i got you, angel, you’re okay,” she was mesmerized, watching the way your body responded to her. you were so fucked out, the feeling of her cock stretching you out making you whine and pant and feel so fucking dirty. “c’mon baby, sit up. hands around my neck, you can do it,” she was pulling you up, and you obliged, reaching up to wrap your arms lazily around her neck. she snaked both arms around your waist and lifted you up off the table, causing you to cry out and bury your face into her neck. 

“that’s it, just relax,” she kept herself nestled deep inside you, almost pressed against your cervix when you wrapped your legs around her waist and whined pitifully, the sound muffled by abby’s shirt. her hands snaked down to your ass to keep you spread open as she held you still and began to thrust slowly up into your sore cunt. 

“oh m’god abby, jesus,” you cried as she fucked into you with seemingly no effort, your wet pussy making obscene noises each time she pulled out. you were already teetering right on the edge, and the feeling of her cock filling you up was going to be your downfall. she groaned each time she felt you tensing in her grip, and she was faltering with her own arousal. 

“such a good fucking girl,” she was almost growling, and you were so close, so fucking close, your juices dribbling out indecently around her as she fucked you to overstimulation. “taking everything i give you…is my pretty girl going to come again for me? hm?” you could do nothing but nod as abby bounced you up and down on her thick cock, desperate to bring you to your release. 

“well c’mon then,” she whispered against the side of your face and your eyes rolled back into your head as your pussy tightened around her, nearly suffocating her with your arms as your body was overwhelmed by your third orgasm of the night. a broken mantra of abby abby abby abby spilling from your lips as you tumbled over the edge again. 

“that’s it baby, fuck,” abby’s voice was almost as broken as yours, pulling you closer into her hips as you cried into her shoulder. 

“my fucking best girl.”

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson x you #abby x you #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby anderson x y/n #tlou pt 2 #the last of us part 2

[sturnslcver]

:ੈ✩‧₊˚ SWAMPED ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— fluff, no warnings

chris seizes hold of the water bottle from your hands and takes a long drink from it. “ are we almost there?” he questions out of breath, wiping the water dripping from his chin. “yep, it’s right around this corner” you reply using one hand to dodge the bushels and one to wrap your hand around chris’ finger, guiding him along with you. you come to an abrupt stop as chris stumbles into your back. “isn’t it pretty?” you turn to chris with one hand over your eyes, blocking the sun.

chris nods and exhales dramatically as he rolls his socks off and wiggles out of his clothes, leaving him in his boxers. he sprints toward the lake and produces a splash as he lands his cannonball. he makes his way to the surface, running his fingers through his hair and shaking the water out. chris swishes his arms toward you, spritzing you with water. “it’s so nice in here.” chris signals for you to enter the water alongside him. “i don’t know chris..” you gulp and attempt to focus on the floor of the pond. it’s not visible. “c’mon i got you” chris pleads with his arms out to you. you undress, leaving yourself exposed in just a bra and panties before taking a couple steps back and rushing to the body of water. you plug your nose with one hand, landing right in front of chris.

he opens his arms out to you as you take hold of his biceps to keep yourself afloat. chris glances down to see your feet swaying underwater. “you’re doing it y/n.” he smiles at you. “i can’t kick for much longer. my legs are starting to get tired.” you look down worriedly. “just float.” chris replies calmly, moving his fingertips to your spine. you gently release his arms as he slowly tilts you back into the water. “ok spread out a little.” he places a hand on your upper thigh opening your legs a bit as you spread out your arms. “im gonna let go now, okay?” chris voices. you flutter your eyes shut and nod as you take a deep breath. you feel his touch slowly fade from your skin. you stay still for a few moments before squinting your eyes open. “this is fun.” you beam.

chris chuckles as he swishes around you. his chest is now facing the top of your head. he rests his hands to the sides of your face and leans down, placing a delicate, warm kiss upon your forehead. you smile up at him as you sway your arms throughout the water. “float with me.” you propose. the both of you kick your feet, floating to a nearby boulder. you propel yourself up onto the big rock with chris’ assistance before he pulls himself up. you lay facing each other. the beams of sunlight strike chris’ skin alluringly. you can’t help but allow your hands to roam chris’ visage. he places his hand above yours and peppers soft, affectionate kisses to your face, nose, and jaw as you both begin to nod off below the beams of warmth.

short little imagine since i’m working on 4 requests rn :) keep requesting ily all !! 💚

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolos #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #christophersturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #mattsturniolo #matt x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #nick x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo #the sturniolos