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norrizzandpia · 6 months

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She’s Missed You (OP81)

Summary: In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.

Warnings: i forgot if there’s language in this, i don’t think so but maybe? Sort of angst, reader really misses him, THE CUTEST LITTLE THINGS WITH OSCAR’S FAMILY (i would write a whole ass imagine about what it would be like if reader was super close to Oscar’s little sisters and took them out on mornings to get coffee and such if y’all would like that lmk)

Note: I KNOW IT’S NOT A REQUEST IM SORRY I WILL GET THROUGH THOSE BUT THERE IS MORE TO COME TN SO HOLD TIGHT

The feverish knocking on the Piastri’s door late at night had Chris clutching a baseball bat in his hands, stepping suspiciously toward the slab of wood. When he reached it, swinging it open and bracing for a manic person to jump out at him, he quickly realized that aggression was not the needed emotion.

Y/n stood with teary eyes, staring back at the man who had become her second father, and asked him quietly, hesitantly if she could come in. The bat was quickly shoved to the corner of the foyer, Chris’s hands coming to usher her in, wrapping around her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Nicole appeared from the hallway and gave him a quizzical look when she saw the way he was hugging their son’s girlfriend, the way he was consoling her.

Their hearts dropped when they heard her cry, “I miss Oscar.”

—

From that night on, Y/n slept in his room. With him being consistently away with F1, the parents had found out she was drowning in the amount of longing she held for her boyfriend, their son. They were accommodating and gentle to the girl they had known for years, even forcing her to call out of work for the first few days in order to settle in. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been over to their house, spending nights there with Oscar multiple times throughout the year before he had left to travel the world. It was just that she hadn’t been there alone. She hadn’t even shown up at their doorstep seeking a stay in his comforting four walls, but Nicole had insisted when she heard the way Y/n was dealing with the hard transition.

The parents were close to calling Oscar, but just when they decided they would, Y/n made them promise they wouldn’t. She had explained to them that if he knew how much she was struggling with his departure, he would come back and that would ruin his good streak with the season. So, the family kept quiet, dodging questions about her when they finally were able to get ahold of their son. His sisters, Chris, and Nicole were the only ones to hold the knowledge that Y/n was sleeping in her boyfriend’s bed. To be honest, they all secretly found it endearing how she would come back to their home after a long day at work, have dinner with the family, and retreat back to his room to smell him on his sheets and in the sweatshirts she stole from his closet.

The girls, his sisters, absolutely adored her being there, seeing as she would take them to Starbucks whenever she could, allowing for their bond to grow deeper. Their Saturdays were spent holing up in Y/n’s car to eat donuts and slurp down sugar coffee while watching stupid YouTube videos and grilling Y/n on embarrassing Oscar moments.

Nonetheless, as fun as it was, Y/n still felt a hole in her heart when she closed his door and came face to face with his empty bed. All she wanted was to see him, to feel him and his touch, yet she would have to settle for their few and far between FaceTimes.

It was so carefully crafted, the secret the family withheld from Oscar, that they were all so convinced he would never find out.

That was until his surprise visit.

—

Rapid knocking on their door for the second time in six months had Nicole and Chris at a loss for words. The raps being thrown against the entry to their house was powerful and held an urgency that was unmistakable.

“Can you get that, Nicole?” Chris asked her as he washed dishes from the dinner they had had earlier that night.

She nodded, traipsing over to the quickening pounds and opening the door. What met her was her smiling son with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, a sight so dearly missed she almost fell into a puddle of tears.

“Oscar!” She exclaimed, jumping at her son and tackling him in the arms he had grown to seek comfort in.

At the mention of his son’s name and the sound of his wife's squealing, Chris peaked his head around the corner of their kitchen, catching a glimpse of the infamous brown hair. His smile was unwavering as he dropped the glasses with a loud clunk and ran over to the commotion at the front door.

“What are you doing here?!” He laughed as he wrapped his arms around his wife and son, a picturesque family.

Oscar’s muffled voice responded, “Thought I’d surprise you with the free time I have from the race being pushed back.”

The three of them disbanded, Nicole’s and Chris’s confused faces making him continue.

“Spa’s date was pushed back because of the storm they’re having right now. The race is scheduled for two weeks from now, but that could be pushed back as well because of the repairs they have to do. It hasn’t been publicized yet, that’s why you don’t know.”

At the new information, the story came together and his parents were nodding, bringing him into another hug after having not seen him for so long.

“I’ll be right back down, I’m just going to go drop off my bags in my room.” He murmured in their chests as they squeezed him tightly. The two were so excited to see him, they weren’t thinking about the girl that laid asleep in the very room their son was trying to get to.

He was halfway up the stairs when his mother yelled for him despite the rest of the house being asleep, “Oscar!”

He popped his head over the railing, “What?”

She walked to the end of the stairs, curling her finger at him, “I need you to come back down here.”

His head tilted, but he didn’t argue. His steps prodded at the rug underneath and when he reached his mother, she was ushering him to sit down on their couch.

“I need to tell you something before you go up there.” She eyed him seriously.

“Did you redecorate my room?” He deadpanned, looking at her with faux disappointment.

She shook her head, “No, Osc, baby, it’s about Y/n.”

At the mention of his girlfriend, Oscar’s demeanor changed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.

She shook her head, Chris coming to join them on the plush cushions, “Nothing’s wrong with her physically. More mentally. She’s really missed you, Oscar.”

He nodded as if it was obvious, “I’ve missed her too. What does this have to do with my room?”

“She’s in there.” Nicole’s words struck him, but she didn’t allow for questions as she continued, “A few months ago, she showed up here and she was… she was just so tired, Oscar. She was crying and telling us how much she missed you, how happy she was that you had fulfilled your dreams, how proud of you she was, but how, at the end of the day, she couldn’t bear not seeing you. There was nothing to do, but try and comfort her which was a hard feat within itself. Understandably so, I came to the conclusion it would be beneficial if she stayed in your room for a while. Get it? She missed you and the only thing I could think would help her was staying in a place that smelled like you, felt like you were there. So, that’s how we ended up here. She’s been living with us for the past few months.”

By the end of it, Oscar was deeply confused for one particular reason, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chris sighed, seemingly signaling to his wife he would answer, “She didn’t want us to. Trust me, we tried, but she made us promise we wouldn’t. She didn’t want you to hear and then come back here in the middle of the season, jeopardizing how good you’re doing.”

He scoffed, “You still should’ve told me if she was struggling.”

Nicole landed her hand on his knee, rubbing softly, “Oscar, it was better to have her here and watch over her then drive her away by telling you. I would’ve loved to have both, but that wasn’t reality. Reality was that your father and I had to make a judgment call and we decided what was best. That was what was best. She’s gotten better. Sure, she still misses you, but, before, she was living all alone without anyone and I can only imagine how lonely she must’ve been. With her family moving away and everything, she really had no one to come home to when you had usually been there every time. We were able to give her that piece, so we did.”

Oscar’s mind calmed, realizing who he really needed to focus on, and he nodded at his parents.

“I understand, thank you.” He whispered, standing up and walking toward the stairs.

Nicole and Chris didn’t respond, instead watching as their son took two stairs at a time to get to his girlfriend faster.

When he was out of sight, his footsteps looming over them, Nicole whispered to her husband, “I can’t wait until they get married.”

—

His hand smoothed over the cool metal of his bedroom door, taking a moment to calm himself down before opening the door.

What he found was his lovely girlfriend asleep in his childhood bed, a sight that younger Oscar would go crazy for. The Australian shuffled in and closed the door lightly, placing his bags on the floor gently.

When he was ready, he tiptoed over to her side, sitting down and brushing his hand over her arm that stuck out from the comforter.

“My love, wake up.” He said softly, hand caressing up and across her cheekbone.

She stirred, deep in sleep, but settled back down after a few seconds. Oscar smiled warmly, leaning down and kissing her forehead, trailing down to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then meeting her lips lightly.

That seemed to wake her enough for her to realize someone else was in the room with her. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at Oscar for a second. He clocked the way she seemed to hesitate, wondering if it was really him. He wanted her to understand he was really here with her, so he kissed her once more, this time with more intention. His hand smoothed her hair back and when she began to kiss him back, hands falling onto his back, he pulled away.

“Hi, baby.” He said against her lips.

She didn’t say anything, mumbling something incoherent, before her eyes teared up. The shine of the tears falling down the side of her face had his hands coming to pull her up from her laid down position. He pulled their bodies upright, so he could suffocate her in the material of his hoodie and the lengths of his arms.

She cried into his chest, squeezing at his hips when he whispered how much he loved her, how much he missed her.

Oscar was tired from traveling and even though his eyes felt heavy, he still initiated the conversation he needed to have with her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were staying here? Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?”

Her head stayed glued to the hardness of his body, “Because I’m not going to be the kind of girlfriend that can’t handle her boyfriend going away from time to time.”

“But, baby, it’s not from time to time. It’s every weekend. You’re entitled to struggle, I was struggling just as you were. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help you and I can’t be the boyfriend I want to be for you.”

She nodded as she sniffled, “I guess, you’re right. I just don’t want you to think that you have to come back here every time you get a break. I want you to be able to travel and see what your job allows you to see. You’ve always loved to travel, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t pursue that to its fullest extent.”

“No, Y/n, I want to come back here every time I get a break. I know I love traveling, but I’m doing it so much now that when I do get time, I don’t want to spend it off somewhere foreign, I want to spend it with you.”

He took her silence as agreement, shifting the two of them in his arms so they could lie back down on his small bed.

In the darkness of the night, he watched her fall back asleep easily, wondering if that had been something she had had trouble with during their time apart like he did.

He was so enthralled with her finally being back in his arms, he didn’t realize how long he had been watching her sleep until the rising of the sun mocked him.

It was only when the commotion of his household began to erupt, Y/n waking up beside him and suggesting they sleep in a little longer, that he allowed himself to fall asleep right next to the girl who had missed him dearly.

The girl he had missed dearly.

#mclaren #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pastry #op81 #mclaren formula 1

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taylorswiftstyle · 4 months

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2024 Golden Globe Awards | Los Angeles, CA | January 7, 2024

Gucci gown

Let it be known my Roman Empire is painted a shade of aurora borealis green.

I’m biased. I love it. You’re buckling up for a rave. But everyone knew that, right?

I want it on record that no one should be surprised when they see this lewk on the TSS Favourite Outfits of 2024 list. And that I’ll devise some maniacal strategy to make it make sense to include in every annual list from here to eternity.

Let's get the obvious out of the way in that this shade of green could easily be interpreted as very snakelike and thus a nod to reputation and its forthcoming re-recorded version. I'd even happily apply it to the teal-y and springlike green of debut if we want to go debutation on this.

But if we are to talk about Gucci we have to talk about the precipice the house is upon right now. As it relates to Taylor, I suspect her dress (specific shade TBD - Chartreuse? Apple? Pear? Some other adjacent fruit that’s a feast for my eyes?) is a preview of Fall 2024 and a clear indicator of the path the new creative director Sabato De Sarno’s will take the brand in. Which is to say, muting the eccentricity of Alessandro Michele’s era of Gucci that brought the brand to a new level of renown in favour of something cleaner and sexier. Nicole Phelps for Vogue already noted that De Sarno’s first collection for Gucci — Spring 2024’s Ancora, meaning ‘again’ in English and released in September — evokes a Gucci when Tom Ford was once at the helm, praising De Sarno’s approach to “the upfront sex appeal of those ’60s-by-way-of-the-’90s shapes, and straight riffs on Ford hits” while “establish[ing De Sarno’s] essentials, focusing on cut and proportion, and repeating shapes for emphasis.”

Indeed, Taylor’s gown is directly reminiscent of a Fall 2004 look from Ford’s Gucci - all green sparkles and sexy disco energy. This makes sense when we consider De Sarno’s history and homeworking when he decided to take the creative director post. He told WWD, “Gucci to me equals luxury … the first fashion piece I ever owned was a Gucci jacket by Tom Ford. I still remember I traveled to Rome to buy it with my friend … luxury was really not part of our world. Television was the only way to see fashion for me back then.” He added, “My ambition is to build an aesthetic message with an edited collection that is mindful of Gucci’s heritage and close to my own aesthetics.”

When we consider my personal history with Taylor and Gucci, I don’t have to look very far to immediately picture one of my all time favourite Taylor looks — the 2014 Grammys when she wore a sparkling Gucci Première column gown which is not too dissimilar to this one. What can I say, I’m consistent. The shape, the perfect kiss-the-floor hemming, and obviously the divine colour that really pops on Taylor will have me swooning for a long time.

At the end of it all, what I come back to is De Sarno’s sentimentality to naming his first collection: Ancora. Again. He told WWD, “Ancora is a word that you use when your desire is not over yet … I want to fall in love with fashion all over again — ancora.” In the same interview he said, “I like words a lot, they have weight and a precise meaning, they convey emotions, so I like artists who use words.”

It dawns on me that Taylor’s light is shining at its brightest now as she highlights, celebrates, and - indeed - falls in love with all the versions of herself she has ever been. Revisiting her eras past again. And again. In every re-record. In every step she takes on stage. In every cutting line she writes in ruminating and revisiting the experiences of her life and translating them into song. She’s flitting, flirting, memorializing all her past selves in celebration of their summation of her current self. And that’s what this ‘era of eras’ has been.

So if this is De Sarno’s Gucci I say welcome. Ancora.

Photos by Monica Schipper/GA and Amy Sussman via Getty Images

#taylor swift #award #dress #gucci #january 2024

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hunnylagoon · 3 months

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Take Me to War

PT1 Friendly Fire

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.

Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.

PT 2 Here!

Two things I hate the most?

My neighbour and New York City.

They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.

I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.

It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.

I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.

I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.

It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.

Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.

The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.

I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.

Trust me, I have retaliated.

On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.

Almost.

I still hate it.

I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.

"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"

"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."

This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"

My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."

"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"

Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.

"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."

"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.

"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-

She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.

"Is everything alright?"

"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.

"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-

"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.

"Wait-

Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.

I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.

The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.

I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.

Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.

My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.

The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.

"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.

"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."

"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."

"What about the wall?"

Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."

I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.

That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.

I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.

Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.

Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.

My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.

"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.

"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.

"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.

I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.

"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."

I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.

"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.

This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."

"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.

"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.

"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"

"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"

"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.

"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."

"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"

I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.

Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.

The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.

"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.

I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"

"To make it out alive."

"And your name?"

"It's Ellie."

That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.

However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.

She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.

I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."

"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.

We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."

"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.

"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.

"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"

"Yeah, you've said-

"Do you wanna come and see?"

I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"

"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."

I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."

"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.

Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.

I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.

On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.

She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.

There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.

"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."

I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."

She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."

"Because I'd win?"

She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."

"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.

Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."

"Who are you talking to?"

"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.

"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."

"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."

"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"

"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."

"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."

"Okay, well-

"So you're like Logan Paul?"

Her eyes go wide "No-

"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."

"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."

I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"

Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.

The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.

My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."

A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!

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powderblueblood · 5 months

Text

HELLFIRE & ICE masterlist

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

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

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

ready to light this place up?

❦ - SERIES

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

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

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

❦ - chapter four: HOT SKIN and a HALL PASS

❦ - chapter five: CHEERLEADERS MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS

❦ - chapter six: IN MY ORBIT

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

❦ - chapter eight: SEWN UP

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

❦ - chapter ten: THE NEW FACE OF FAILURE

❦ - chapter eleven:

❦ - chapter twelve:

❦ - chapter thirteen:

❦ - epilogue

❦ - BLURBS N SHIT

in-universe requests are open for business

flashback - LACY'S DAD GETS ARRESTED

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

what if - EDDIE FOUND LACY'S JOURNAL

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

lore - ALL ABOUT THE BOOKSTORE

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

blurb - EDDIE TELLS LACY HOW HIS PARENTS MET

blurb - LACY VISITS HER DAD IN PRISON

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

blurb - YES, NURSE RATCHED

blurb - THE BANDANA

blurb - EDDIE FS CASS FINNIGAN IN THE A

blurb - THE LACY AND JONATHAN OF IT ALL

❦ - FUN STUFF

soundtrack - VOLUME ONE

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

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colleendoran · 1 year

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Misunderstanding

I received a note from someone who was upset I “failed to cite Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics” in my research for my work on Neil Gaiman's Chivalry and the essays I wrote about it.

I really appreciate that people want to make sure credit goes where it's due, and I have a lot of respect for Scott McCloud's accomplishment with his wonderful book.

I haven't read it myself in some years, and didn't cite it in my articles because I didn't reference it. I don't even know where my copy is so I don't know what McCloud referenced, either.

The information in my articles re: illuminated manuscripts and the Bayeux Tapestry, as well as other theories about the development of sequential art from prehistory, not only predate McCloud's work (and in fact, predate McCloud's birth,) but they are so common and so well known in comics circles that asking me to cite them seems as weird to me as asking me to cite the information that George Washington was the first President of the United States.

A part of me wonders if someone is trying to play, "Let's you and him fight."

No.

But I’m happy to bring to your attention some reading material.

Stephen Becker in his 1959 work Comic Art in America: A Social History of the Funnies, the Political Cartoons, Magazine Humor, Sporting Cartoons, and Animated Cartoons was among the first to discuss the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art. I read that book sometime in the 1980’s. I think a lot of people assume the Bayeux tapestry as comic art was McCloud’s idea, but we don’t all walk around with a reference library in our heads, so there you go. I can’t find my copy of Becker’s work to quote, but I did find an article by Arthur Asa Berger with a mention of the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art in the summer 1978 issue of The Wilson Quarterly.

My first exposure to the idea of comics as descendant of fine art was Maurice Horn’s 1976 The World Encyclopedia of Comics which was my first read re: comics history. I still have my tattered 1976 edition.

While Horn scorned the idea that tapestries and manuscripts could be comic art (see, it was a matter of discussion way back then, so much so that authors were writing snarky asides to one another about it,) he believed the origin of sequential art was in the Renaissance sketches of Leonardo da Vinci - which I think everyone now agrees is kind of a bonkers idea.

I think Horn was just intent on elevating the comic art form by hooking up with da Vinci.

You go, boi.

Comics as descendant of art on scrolls is a very common theory, the easiest to trace being in Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics by Fred Schodt published in 1983 when I was still a teenager. I can't find my copy to show examples, but this text is still in print and you can go read it for yourself.

I was introduced to manga by cartoonist Leslie Sternbergh and bought Schodt’s book at Books Kinokuniya on (I think) a trip to New York around the time of first publication of Schodt’s work. And years later took a trip to Japan with Fred Schodt and a group of cartoonists including Jeff Smith and Jules Fieffer, Nicole Hollander, and Denys Cowan as the guests of Tezuka Productions.

Here we all are.

So, I’m familiar with manga, see.

As for comics as descendant of cave paintings, hieroglyphics and ancient art in general, Will Eisner’s 1985 Comics and Sequential Art not only made all of those points, but made those points with comic art examples. Like these.

And this.

And more than a few words on this:

I find it amusing that someone is questioning why I didn’t cite McCloud when what you should probably be questioning is why more people don’t cite Eisner who produced his book eight years before McCloud published his and who is well known to have influenced McCloud.

Whatever. My book's autographed.

I also danced with Eisner. Eat your heart out.

Understanding Comics is a terrific work with huge advantages over every book (that I know of) about comics that came before: it taught comics entirely in the language of comics.

But the discussion in it about the origins of comics and my work especially re: illuminated manuscripts/tapestries, did not originate with McCloud. I research illuminated manuscripts because it’s my hobby and it informs my art.

I encourage everyone to read Understanding Comics because it is an outstanding work.

But it’s not the book that introduced me to the concepts of the development of comic art. It’s not even the point of origin of those concepts. So, there is no reason to cite it.

Also, shocking as it may seem, I occasionally come up with ideas on my own. While I'm younger than McCloud, I've actually been a comics pro longer than he has. So I've had plenty of opportunity to, you know, read things and toss things around, and decide for myself.

When I first read Chivalry and first begged Neil Gaiman to let me adapt it, my head full of the work of Alberto Sangorski and his art for Tennyson’s Le Morte D’Arthur, Understanding Comics hadn’t been published yet.

It's been a good twelve years since I last read McCloud's work, and I don't think I've spoken to him five times in the last three decades. But I'm pretty sure he never mentioned Sangorski.

I hope that clears everything up, and maybe introduces some of you to some works you might not be aware of.

Have a great day.

#understanding comics #comics history #neil gaiman #scott mccloud #chivalry #jules fieffer #tezuka productions #manga #will eisner

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sheisjoeschateau · 2 months

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misha's masterlists

Hi, I'm Misha. Thank you for diving into my stories and supporting my writing :)

My fanfics [+this blog] are dedicated to Steve Harrington. All fanfic series, one-shots, blurbs, etc. listed below are written by me. Do not repost or share anywhere without proper credit. Thank you.

SERIES MASTERLISTS:

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..."

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

[Part IX - blurb] | [Part IX - full]

[Part X] | MORE COMING SOON

SUMMARY: WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU.

HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU...

BUT WILL HE?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"You're there. You've always been there."

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader Childhood friends to lovers. Sloooowburn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Action. Told from second-person view, reader is Nicole (character from S1), different POV, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, pre-S1-S4, eventual post-S4 universe.

[PART I] | [PART II]

Summary: Steve Harrington was six years old when he met you: Nicole St. James, the girl who carries the other half of him. Since 1972, the two of you have been inseparably tethered by the soul. You give Steve a home in his big house with no parents, and he gives your introverted heart a longing for someone. The King of Hawkins High and princess of this small town, you tell each other absolutely everything...except that you are in love with each other.

Everything changes that one afternoon at school, when you catch the school's social outcast -- Jonathan Buyers -- has been stalking Steve, his posse and his girl, Nancy. Little do you both know, the monsters in your favorite fairytales are real. And you're both going to have to fight them together.

You both share the best days and worst days, through childhood and teen years, until you both find yourselves roped into the perils that exist beneath your feet in Hawkins.

But through it all, despite all the doubt, Steve knows one thing: you're there. You've always been there.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"At the Chateau, We'll Be Alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional Inso from Joe's theater performance as in Spring Awakening. Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

[MULTI-PART SERIES] COMING SOON. Click here for a preview.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France. This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate. He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good. Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise. A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer. The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality. Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants. Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical. A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet. Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #mishas masterlists #oh so we do love steve #steve and bauman

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scuderiadream · 7 months

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backburner ( smau )

꒰ singer!reader x lando norris ꒱

𖧧 summary : when they first started dating, everything was wonderful for them both, until one day, the reader discovered she was the backburner in the relationship that would turn it into a song

𖧧 faceclaim : nicole zefanya (niki)

𖧧 author note : hellu! this is my first time writing something like this, this au (or fanfic) is inspired by niki's "backburner" which meant sort of like a backup relationship, sorry if this is lowkey shit or weird i swear i'm trying :') anyway, hope you enjoy it <3

part 2

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by landonorris, gracieabrams, username and 200,752 others

yourusername i read him like a book and he's a clueless little kid

view all 2,894 comments

username this is so cvnty fierce diva of you

username OKAY MOTHER!!

landonorris i may not be the tallest boy in the world, but i'll never look down on you *winks*

↳ yourusername please never use that line on me again

↳ landonorris ouch?

↳ carlossainz55 landonorizz?

username love that necklace!

↳ username what necklace?

↳ username ykwim

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 364,136 others

landonorris date night 🖤

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yourusername (gone wrong)

↳ landonorris we don't need to talk about that😉

↳ oscarpiastri what am i witnessing…

username oh to be her

username my parents 🫶

danielricciardo mate, this isnt' the first thing i want to see when i open my eyes

↳ landonorris sounds like a YOU problem.

username i’m done, god i’m coming up🙏

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by username and 20,344 others

f1gossiphq oops! looks like singer-songwriter yn has been seen fighting with her longtime partner, lando, could this mean a breakup? or just some stupid argument?

view all 4,451 comments

username NOOO NONONO NOT THEM

username MY. DIVORCED. PARENTS. ????💔💔💔💔💔💔

username cries uncontrollably

username I THOUGHT THEY HAD A PERFECT DATE NIGHT LIKE A FEW DAYS AGO??!!??!!?

↳ username apparently the pap took this pic a day after their date night😞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by sabrinacarpenter, username and 434,881 others

yourusername hello lovely beautiful people, after a few months of relaxation, i'm excited to share you my favorite new song i recently wrote! i truly hope you all will love this song as much as i do <3 "backburner" music video out now!! 🤍

view all 4,785 comments

username MOTHER IS BACK

username STOP I JUST LISTENED TO IT AND ITS SO GOOD I CANT STOP CRYIGNJNKJDSI

username the mv is so cute but the lyrics?? oh my god

username omfg lando probably recorded all of those cute video clips in the mv 😕

gracieabrams already listening to it on repeat 🫡

liked by yourusername

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dearsonyeondan · 8 months

Text

seven | jeon jungkook

hi anon :3 i hope this scratches a good part to you, i haven't written in a while so it feels good to be able to again. inbox is forever opened when taking requests!

꒰ ꒱ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader [plus size suggestive]

꒰ ꒱ rating: 18+! please proceed responsibly.

꒰ ꒱ word count: 3.2k

꒰ ꒱ warning(s): slow burn into a bit of a quick fall. reader is plus sized and jungkook is obsessed with her thighs. writing these warnings before writing the smut, but expect it to be nasty.

꒰ ꒱ note 4 reader: this is just sinful. fic below keep reading also stream seven, that's the theme < 3!

it was on thursday when heuning kai had pointed out to you that jungkook was on his third visit of the week. you had been working for tomorrow x together since their debut, forming friendships amongst the five members. it was the promotion for their name chapter: temptation comeback and you had been responsible for tending to their makeup and hair for most of their shoots. "i mean, he visits often but he never sticks around to monitor. he hasn't done that in a while," kai whispered to you, smiling and thanking you for finishing his look for his part of the shoot.

you considered what he was saying to be absolute bullshit, convinced that jungkook just wanted to motivate them through the shoot. plus, he had been here for his own scheduling. you cleaned your section in the meantime, using the mirror to sneak glances at the man while he chatted with the stylist. mm.. . the tattoos. you overheard them discussing a possible cut to the hair that had grown to his shoulders. "and what do you think?" zara, one of the other stylists that had come from overseas, asked you. you hadn't even managed to notice that nicole trailed in, discussing with the other stylists about his vision.

jungkook had halted his discussion, turning from the lead stylist and nicole to look in your direction. you decided it was time to stop looking at him through the reflection of the mirror and to face him head on, leaving your station to head to zara's in which he'd been the closest to. "think of what?"

"what's your name?" he asked you, giving no cares about the conversation he had just sparked. you told him your name, a smile on his face with a satisfied. "i'm jungkook, but you can just call me jk if you want."

"and we were discussing you possibly taking the opportunity to be his stylist for his upcoming promotions with seven," zara said.

that's where it started. on the regular, you would step down and allow someone else to assist the lead stylist for tomorrow x together and became the lead stylist for jungkook. you still would work with them full time, but this was an opportunity to upgrade your position in the world of styling. it would look good on your resume. every thursday, you would leave your typical quarters and work with jungkook during his calvin klein promotions.

"keeping the hair long was an amazing job, the camera loves him," one of the editors said as you watched on the sidelines with your makeup kit in your hand. he was right, jungkook had been set on cutting his hair, but you expressed that it looked better with it long.

"i have a different opinion," you said softly, running your fingers through his hair underneath the sink. it was your third thursday working with jungkook and the tension had been high ever since the first meeting.

"are you admitting that you find me attractive?" he asked with a soft grin on his lips, big eyes looking up at you as you ran your fingers across his scalp. "tell me that you don't want me to cut it and i won't." he said softly and a part of you hated that it had just been the two of you in the salon. you could feel the innocent tingle of his fingertips dancing up your thighs, a teasing tongue poking from his lips.

"don't cut it." you smiled, running the faucet over his locks.

"how was that? was that the last take?" jungkook asked, removing the jacket and allowing his upper body to be engulfed in the cold air. another worker on the styling had assisted him with a handheld fan and a bottle of water. you ran the sharp ended comb through his hair, detangling his temporary mess of locks with it. he looked over you and you remained focused, hoping that you'd be able to go home after this.

the director of the shoot had considered it wraps since he had most of the shots that he wanted. heading outside, your phone had pinged as you took a seat on the bench.

zara:

i'm unable to pick you up. got caught in traffic heading back to seoul. so sorry 😢

you sighed, searching through your messages for another friend to pick you up if he had been free from his schedule. you had been granted access to use the private exit and entrance since sasaengs had been at an all time high.

"what are you doing here still?" a voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized that it was jungkook.

"oh... a friend of mine isn't able to pick me up anymore," you looked from your phone to see that someone had responded to your cry of help.

"i can take you home. i didn't ride the bike today," he rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling. you had no thoughts about it -- jungkook was well and capable enough to get you home. you shoved your phone in your pocket and rolled your makeup cart behind you.

"so.. have you eaten anything?" he asked, opening up your passenger door. he grabbed the cart from your hands and popped the trunk to his mercedes, putting the cart inside with ease.

"i had some lunch earlier before arriving the shoot, so i'm not hungry." you said, smiling softly. your stomach had grumbled, causing you to place your hand over it. jungkook snorted, looking over your figure before to his car.

"we can grab something if you want, i'm pretty hungry too." you scanned over his attire and had seen that he had most likely finished getting dressed from the shoot. he wore a sleeveless shirt, hair swiped back with a headband and comfortable sweats. even his tennis shoes looked expensive. you could tell that his hair was a little drenched and figured that since so-hee had come to the shoot today.

"sure, that's fine." you said, smiling and climbing into his car. he closed the door behind you and soon joined you in the driver's seat, starting the car and exiting the private parking garage. the car ride was silent, listening to his curated spotify playlist. you had to admit that most of his choices in music were immaculate, silently adding them to your playlist.

it was about a 25 minute drive when jungkook pulled over to a restauraunt that had been so hidden that he had to point it out to you. the entrance was private and two guards stood over the doors whenever they closed. you had been a bit nervous, under the impression that it would be more than a quick bite to eat.

"i'm not kidnapping you, i promise. i just eat here so often so now they're used to my license plate number," he chuckled. "we can grab it and go."

"no, it's.. fine. i've never been here," you said with a smile, letting out a slow exhale to cool your nerves. "but tell me, jeon," you turned to rest your elbow on the console. "what.. is going on?"

"what do you mean?" he leaned back, leaning his head towards the ceiling. he closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh only to turn his head to you. "you're bad at taking hints, you know?" he said to you, causing you to freeze and remain silent. "i was camping out with txt for 5 days straight before you even started to notice me."

"i did notice you," you said, blinking your eyes.

"yeah, but did you notice the flowers on your desk this morning? or what about the extra yogurt cup that you like to eat? in the fridge?" he said. he smiled to you and you thought over -- a vase of flowers did end up on your desk yesterday morning and you figured that it had been love from your old crew missing you on thursday's.

"those were... from you?" you asked. he nodded his head and you chuckled.

"we better go in to grab our food. it's getting close to 6 and i have a studio session at 9." he stated, pursing his lips with a soft smile. you had felt a bit bad missing all the chances when he'd come to hang with txt or the flowers on your desk. he turned the car off and soon met you around to open your door for you.

it had been two weeks since that event and that night had never left your mind. how nice he was, paying for both of your meals and walking you inside to help you with your makeup cart. every morning after that, you tried your best to give jungkook as much attention as he had once given you, but you had to be smart about it.

there was small words of affirmation you'd give him during work when fixing his hair or his makeup, causing him to chuckle and return them. it wasn't until two months after that he had asked you to come to his studio session to lend him advice as you had done being his stylist. you arrived much later after the time that he had asked, confirming through text that his producers and team had left and it would be just you two.

it would appear unprofessional to his team for you to arrive during his private schedule. so you requested it to be just like this. you pushed the door open, sliding in with your makeup cart after your shift.

"hey, you made it." he said, getting out of his chair to greet you with a warm hug. he took ahold of your makeup cart and moved it to the corner of his room. "i just got done with the ramen. are you hungry?"

you went to answer and he hesitated. "don't lie to me, either."

"i could eat, yeah," you chuckled, taking a seat at his comfortable couch. jungkook carefully handed you the ramen and there you two would talk over your day. it wasn't until past midnight that jungkook had grown frustrated, slightly removing the headphones and exiting the booth. you looked up from your phone, placing it on the side. "you alright?"

"i'm just hitting a brick wall with the bridge," he slid into the chair and started to type at his computer. you could see him rearranging the tracks, deleting and adding things to it. "i'm fuckin' over it, you wanna go home?"

you sat up straight at the sudden suggestion of leaving, scanning over the room for your makeup cart. "i can go if you need some alone time, absolutely."

you could watch the expression on jungkook's face changed, realizing that you wouldn't actually mind going. he stood up to protest against your actions, grabbing your hand softly and demanding your attention.

"don't leave. that was a dumb suggestion," he smiled and you laughed, placing your hand on your hip. "you look pretty tonight, your lip gloss is.."

you couldn't help but to gulp, standing up straight and looking around the room. "zara bought me a lip gloss for our friendship anniversary so i've been wearing it."

it was almost like he had nothing that you said. "can i kiss you?" he asked, his eyes focused on nothing but your lips. you licked over your bottom lip, taking the chance to glance at his lips. you nodded your head slowly, stabilizing yourself so you wouldn't pass out. you didn't need to, jungkook had already gripped your thighs and admired how thick they felt in the pair of jeans you wore today.

his mouth was soft against yours, hands sliding and gripping at your hips as he took bold steps to get you against the wall. you had been breathless, his mouth moving to leave tender kisses at your jaw. he was gentle in his movements, nudging your chin with his head to get more access so he could suck on your neck. it was impossible to breathe during moments like this, his hand rubbing up your breast to grip your neck.

"you gotta breathe for me baby, or i won't let you," he whispered, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. before you could even comprehend what he just told you, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. he kissed you one last time, teasing your tongue with his own before pulling from you. "fuck," he said, re-adjusting himself in his pants before stepping out to take the call. you wanted to pretend so bad you didn't see that curve.

you were thankful for the break towards your own self, adjusting your breathing and taking a seat back on the couch. of course, you and jungkook had done nothing but the casual flirting and after your first lunch together, you had noticed that he was persistent in his attraction to you. zara had noticed it first, but you never thought to pay attention to it.

it had been seven weeks since that night in the studio.

nothing had changed .. well, not that drastically. the two of you agreed that it was extremely unprofessional what had gone on during his studio session, noting that there is privacy inside but anyone could've walked in and caught you two. you both had agreed to cease all things for the better of privacy.

"keep talking to me, you know that i love that shit," jungkook grunted against your ear, hands prying your legs open so that he could continue to dig you out solely with the power of his fingers. his free hand teased at your thigh, getting a good feel of it bare. wearing that skirt was a plus. the movie that you two had started up in the background had simply meant nothing. not when you had been on the brink of an orgasm and not when jungkook was hard as rock in his pants. it meant nothing to the sweet moans that he craved to hear, teasing into you before anything. "you're squeezing me so tight baby," he pulled away from sucking the skin at your collarbone. "it's just my fingers." he whispered against your thigh, scissoring his fingers into your heat whilst sucking on the skin.

the movie had still been going on when your phone rang for the second time, jungkook granting you a break while you tended to it. "it's zara, girl i have to tell you the tea about this boy i just went on a date with!" you sighed, wanting to roll your eyes but than remembering that she was to tell you every detail. "zara, it's a bad time right now-"

jungkook had resumed his ministrations to your neck, easing his fingers back into you so that he could grant you a reward. it drove you nuts when he started to hump into you, providing special attention to the hard on that he'd been accompanying for the majority of this makeout session. he had never demanded too much of you, just to feel good and sound pretty for him. he was doing that now, making sure to remain quiet through the disappointed sound of zara's voice. "30 minutes? i can.. i can definitely give you a call back in 30 minutes."

and so it was, your phone flying from your hands onto the couch and back into jungkook's hair as he helped you reached your orgasm. you fiddled around his sweats now, hoping to get a taste of what he'd been withholding from you. "no, maybe another time. i know what i want to do with you, right now."

he climbed from your being and pull his sweats down, calvin klein underwear withholding his hard on. you can tell that he was thick in girth, a curve revealing itself close the tip. you licked over his lips and he chuckled, a breathy request to never give him that look again.

"you're a great klein boy," you said with a chuckle as he grabbed your hands to pull your hands to get you to be on top of him. your panties had still been around your left ankle, but he was impatient.

"and you're my beautiful girl. can you ride me now?" he asked and you blushed. you put your hands on the back of the couch as he rubbed his tip against your entrance. you leaned forward to chew on his earlobe as you sunk down on him, a soft moan filling his ears as he bottomed out in you.

"..fucking.. you'll be the death of me," he whimpered into your breast, biting at your shirt and using his hands to cup your ass. with his strength, he began to lift and drop you, literally bouncing you up and down his thick and curvy dick. you were wet in an instant, creaming if you had been given the chance and full on sucking jungkook's neck.

his head was thrown back against the sofa, eyes rolling to the ceiling as you squeezed him. "so fucking tight, so creamy baby," he praised you, licking stripes at your neck. he massaged your ass with his hands once you started to bounce on his toes, thumb circling a special area before softly plunging in.

"baby, fuck.." you lowered your head on his shoulders, sitting down fully before rocking your hips back and forth. it was insane that the two of you co-existed throughout the week as total strangers and on the seventh day of every week, he'd fuck your brains out. of course there was romance, sneaky kisses in the makeup room when no one had been around and texts of "i miss you's" being exchanged. but nothing compared to the feeling you'd get when hearing the sound of your sofa screech because he'd been dogging you out. nothing compared to how desperate he'd become when trying to get both you and his nut.

the sweet nothings was more than somethings when you orgasmed around him and he filled you up, rocking into you until he softened and was for sure that you'd be full of his cum. it was sinful, the connection that you two had created.

you placed your hands on his chest and caught your breath, continuing to rock your hips with your bottom lip between your teeth. "you wan' some more?" jungkook asked, pulling your top over your body while doing the same to his own clothes. "you don't get enough of me, do you?"

he asked, unclipping your bra with one hand before taking a nipple into his mouth. he had angled his bottom while doing so, thrusting his hips into your heat as though you didn't milk him dry. you were down for the challenge though - the challenge of pure overstimulation and which one of you would be the one to call it quits first.

"want me to clear my schedule tonight for you?" he asked after giving you a quick trip to poundtown. the two of you had been in your bed, cuddled up underneath the covers after a fresh bath.

"you've taken off the past two days. this is usually just a sunday thing." you brought up.

"what if i want this to be more than a sunday thing, hm?" he kissed at your forehead. there was a look in your eyes that he had never seen you give before. "i like spending time with you, outside of the sex. you know you mean more to me than that."

"yeah?" you asked him, placing a kiss over his lips.

"i'd like to be with you seven days out of the week if i could," he said, sliding his mouth over yours. before you know it, you'd been on your back and hands encased in his.

seven days a week didn't sound too bad.

#networkbangtan #bts fic #bts fanfction #bts x chubby reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bangtan #bts smut #jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #i need this so bad

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chilling-seavey · 1 month

Text

Blue Moon Motel (gr63)

↳ A/N I can't thank you all enough for your lovely words on my first piece of George writing I posted here. Your welcome into the F1 side of Tumblr has been so incredibly kind. Please take this heartbreaking story as my thank you <3

↳ Inspired By Blue Moon Motel by Nicole Dollanganger

↳ Summary: George has decided that his affair with you needs to end but he takes you out for one last night before saying goodbye.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 8.0k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating (George is having an ongoing affair with the reader, gf is unnamed), use of explicit language, fucking without feelings (or so they think), oral (f receiving), choking, spanking, some biting, hair pulling, use of derogatory names (slut etc.), unprotected sex

G: Booked a hotel room tonight. You free?

Your favourite kind of text. You knew well what he was asking for and you lifted your phone from your desk to answer;

-Always free for you and I wanted to talk to you about something anyway. Time and place?

G: I need to talk to you too...and I need to fuck you. 7pm. Blue Moon Motel. I’ll wait for you in the lobby?

-Sounds good. See you then ;)

It wasn’t uncommon for George to book rooms when he needed you and couldn’t get the house to himself. He always booked mid-range where the rooms were nice but the place wasn’t expensive, something located farther out of Monaco and towards Menton in the south of France so chances of getting caught by paparazzi was slimmer. He couldn’t take any chances when you weren’t his girlfriend. The world didn’t know her yet but she didn’t know you and that would have been the main issue if he was caught by the press sneaking you into a five star hotel.

Regardless, you dressed in your best lingerie and a short dress overtop before calling a cab to the motel. It was a hot day in the south of France and the evening didn’t do much to lessen the humidity, the moment you stepped out of the cab you felt your skin flush under the heat. George was waiting in the lobby as promised, identity hidden behind sunglasses and a casual outfit, and he stood up when he saw you. He glanced around as you approached each other to make sure no one was paying much attention before leaning in to kiss you quickly.

“You look great.” he complimented quietly before taking your hand.

“So do you.” you smiled softly, letting him lead you towards the elevators as he tucked his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt.

George seemed more nervous than normal and you watched as he eyed the numbers on the elevator ticking up to your floor, his hand still snug in yours and his weight shifting from side to side ever so slightly.

“What’s up?” you asked, tugging on his hand to bring his attention to you.

He glanced at you with surprised blue eyes but shrugged as the elevator doors slid open, “Nothing.”

“You said you wanted to talk about something in your text.” you stated as he pulled you down the hallway to the room.

George stopped outside a door and swiped the key before glancing back at you, “Fucking first. Talking after.”

You couldn’t get a rebuttal out before he was sweeping you right off your feet and into his arms like a bride. You shrieked in surprise but tossed your arms around his shoulders and kissed his jaw through your excited giggles as he carried you into the hotel room.

“What a gentleman.” you whispered against his cheek.

“Only the best for you.” George gushed, finding your lips with his as he kicked the door closed behind the two of you.

He gently let you slip from his arms onto the ground of the small hotel room foyer, your feet landing silently on the carpet as your lips lingered on each others and you swallowed him up in your arms. George’s arms slid around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer by your waist until you were pressed flush up against him. You could feel the bulge in his jeans against your body and you tangled your hand in the back of his hair to pull his lips off of yours for a moment. His eyes lingered on yours, pupils already dilated and soft breaths falling from pink lips. The way he looked at you could make your knees weak and you scratched your fingers through the back of his hair for a moment.

“Have you been hard all day?”

George groaned lightly at your bluntness, licking his lips as he stared at you, “Most of the day.”

“And thinking of me?”

“Yeah.” George bit back a little smirk, his hands sliding from your hips to your ass and he grabbed two snug handfuls.

You brushed your nose against his and let your lips connect again, lingering there a moment before you both inhaled sharply and tilted your heads to turn it deeper. His fingers inched up the hem of your short dress as his lips distracted themselves with yours and when your dress was up around your waist, he slapped his hand down hard against your bare ass.

You tugged at his hair to strengthen your kiss and his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, shooting shivers down your spine. You opened up for him and his tongue pushed its way into your mouth as he backed you up against the doorway to the bathroom. Your hands dragged down his chest and worked to blindly unbutton his shirt quickly as he slid a hand between your legs. His fingers made you shiver under his touch, gasping out of your kiss as his lips moved down your neck and his fingers drew slow stripes over your panties.

“Have you been wet all day?” George taunted against your ear, pushing your question back at you.

“Just about.” you laughed lightly, dragging your hands down his abs.

“Wanna shower with me?” he asked, his eyes focusing on your lips in your close proximity, sliding his hands around your waist to pull you right up against his jeans.

Your hands teased the hem of his pants, “Of course.”

George shrugged off his shirt and tossed it to the floor before his hand found its way around your throat and pulled your mouth back onto his. Your hands memorized his body, over his shoulders and arms and bare chest, finally returning to his jeans to pop the button and slide your hand down the front.

George moaned into your kiss, moulding his tongue against yours as he kept you pressed up against the doorframe and you palmed him strongly down his pants. His hands shimmied up your dress and lifted it over your head to drop to the floor before returning your mouth to his hungry kisses. The quiet hotel room filled with the sound of your sloppy kisses and you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him after you into the bathroom.

George’s large hands soaked up your body in the black lace, lingering at your chest before sliding over your hips and ass, breathing into your mouth, “Christ, you’re so fucking sexy.”

You bit at his bottom lip, urging a moan from him while you shoved his jeans down his legs and he kicked his shoes off and then his jeans followed, tossed back out into the hotel room foyer. Your kisses were turning feverous, desperation growing as clothes were stripped and passion increasing with the fiery touch of hands on skin. George’s lips moved down your neck and his right hand pushed down the front of your underwear. It was only then that you noticed the bracelet missing from his wrist. The bracelet that matched his girlfriend’s.

“Where’s your bracelet?” you asked quietly, watching him kiss at your neck through the mirror.

His fingers kept up slow stripes over your cunt as his face lifted from your neck and his eyes found yours, “I’m yours tonight. No one else’s.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pulled his lips back on yours with a feverous desire that made him chuckle lightly. His fingers worked a bit faster between your legs, finally rubbing lazily at your clit until you were grinding onto his hand.

“I need you.” you breathed into his mouth, pulling lightly at his hair to keep his lips on yours. “Please, sir.”

A soft groan came from George’s throat and he yanked your panties down your thighs.

“Strip.” he ordered.

You did as told while he turned on the shower and set it to a comfortable temperature, turning back to you only to find you naked and waiting. Your hands were on your chest, tweaking at your hardening nipples, and George smacked your hands away.

“Lemmy see your pretty tits.”

You bit your lip at his vulgarity, always liking to see how filthy his usual polite and gentlemanly demeanor could turn. His hands were on you in an instant, forcing you to lean back against the bathroom counter as his mouth found your left breast first, tonguing at your nipple before sucking at it for a moment and doing the same to the opposite one. The tent in his boxers was massive and you played with the thick shape of his dick through the fabric ever so gently as he licked back up your neck and nipped at your earlobe.

“Feel how fucking hard you make me, baby?” George whispered. “Just need to fuck you so bad.”

“So do it.” you taunted.

“In the shower, pretty little whore. Gonna show you what I’ve been thinking about all day.”

He left you with a spank as you slunk past him and helped yourself to the warm shower. You held your head back under the stream of water and soaked yourself up as George watched for a moment from in front of the counter. He dropped his underwear and you gave him a little show as he stroked himself off a little, his eyes lingering on the water cascading down your bare body and over every curve. You let your hands trail your figure until he was stepping in behind you and taking your place.

“Little slut…putting on a show for me, huh?” George breathed against your ear as his hands rubbed over your hips. You could feel his dick pressed up against your ass and you pushed back on him impatiently.

He adjusted the stream of water, soaking both of you, before shifting it to the side again and ran a hand over his wet hair. He bent you forward and you set your hands flat against the tile wall, ass out and back slightly arched, and he slapped his hand down against your flesh. You gasped lightly, the water on your skin only increasing the sound of his spanks as he did it again.

“Fuck me.” you choked out. “Please just fuck me, sir.”

George shuffled up behind you and you spread your feet slightly to give him room to tuck himself between your legs. The feeling of his dick grazing over your folds had you fluttering and he could feel it, his hand sliding up your spine to tangle in your hair as his other slowly pushed himself inside you.

Your mouth dropped open as the stretch, easing back on him so he bottomed out quicker, and your eyes fell shut as he filled you completely. George groaned lowly, gripping your wet hair in one hand and your hip in the other, focusing on the limited space between you and how he fit inside you so perfectly.

He stayed still for a moment as if to compose himself but you started fucking yourself back onto him, rocking forward and back in messy motions to get him going, only making yourself moan desperately.

George slapped his hand down against your ass, “Yeah. That’s my girl.”

His praise made you flush pink and you groaned excitedly as he yanked at your hair and shoved right into you. You gasped, grabbing onto the shower wall the best you could as he started thrusting into you, giving you everything before pulling out almost all the way and then moving back in.

“Oh my God.” you breathed, “Shit...you’re so fucking big-”

“Yeah?” George chuckled against your neck, keeping up his strong steady thrusts, “Where do you feel me?”

“So deep.” you groaned softly.

“Yeah?” George tightened his grip in your hair and picked up speed, shoving into you a bit faster.

“Oh God.” you cried, hands streaking down the shower wall as he fucked you harder and you couldn’t help but push back on him in time with his motions.

“Good girl.” George spanked you again before grabbing a handful of your ass and made sure you were pulled open so he could fit in as deep as he could go. The warm water only increased the sound of his skin slapping against yours, his hands holding you in place so he could fuck you how he wanted and you shoved back on him each time. “God, you’re such a fucking slut.”

“George-” you cried out as he slid his hand around the front of your neck and then really started going to town, shoving into you roughly until you were falling silent.

“Good girl.” he growled against your ear. “Take it. Fucking take it.”

You squealed softly, hands squeaking against the tile wall in your desperate attempt to keep yourself steady, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-”

His fingers pushed their way into your mouth to keep you quiet and you moaned around them, eyes falling shut as he had his way with you and was nearly choking you with his two fingers. But he slowed down almost just as quickly, making you whine around his fingers as he went back to strong deep thrusts that pushed you to slump forward against the shower wall again. His hand slid down your neck and grabbed your breast in his palm before finding your hip.

“I love this fucking pussy.” George breathed, bending over you to kiss between your shoulder blades as he thrusted into you slowly but strongly, guiding your hips with his hands. His eyes dropped between you to watch as he pushed inside you and rolled your hips back onto him each time, creating a perfect rhythm with your wet bodies. He gripped the flesh of your hip so tightly you were sure he was going to leave bruises, fingers pressing into your skin as he tugged you back on his dick again and again.

He stretched you out so well and it always managed to take your breath away no matter how many times you had snuck off together. The warm water only added to the sensations, slicking you up so as he sped up the small hotel bathroom was filling with the steady slap of his skin on yours. Faster, faster, faster, George’s hands gripped tighter to your waist and you could only bend over more for him, slumping against the wall as he shoved deep inside you again and again until all you could do was take it.

“Please.” you sobbed, “Please don’t stop!”

“You wanna cum, baby girl?” George breathed, his words almost muffled by the shower and the wet clapping of his skin on yours.

“Yessir.” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he taunted through his teeth, “You think you deserve to cum? Beg.”

“Please, please, please make me cum.” you cried, tears brimming in your eyes at the overwhelm.

His left hand gathered your wrists under his grasp and pinned your hands to the shower wall as his right kept you close so he could keep pounding into you. The restraint of it all had you whining loudly, head tilting back until the stream from the shower hit your chest and he spanked you hard.

“Please, sir!” you nearly shrieked, feeling your stomach ache with need. “Please, I wanna cum for you!”

“You’re gonna cum when I tell you.” George ordered.

“Yeah.” you whined in tired agreement, already starting to feel your muscles clenching around him in desperation.

“Good girl.” George fucked into you harder, letting his teeth find your shoulder as he chased his orgasm and his hand that had been holding yours against the wall found your hair again and gave it a good yank.

You cried out, welcoming his lips on your neck as he groaned against your flushed skin and your legs were starting to tremble. You bit down on your bottom lip, fucking yourself back on him as you tried to hold yourself back the best you could until he gave you permission. It was one of the things he liked best about you; you always listened. It's what you were there for, after all; to give him what he wanted.

“Ready, baby girl?” George whispered against your ear. “Cum with me.”

“Yes. Come inside me.” you begged shakily, desperate to finish him off, “Please, sir. Please, I want it.”

“That’s my girl. Listen to you fucking beg. Ready?” George panted as he let go of your hair and gripped your hips and fucked you harder and rougher as his groans moulded into pitchy moans and you could feel him twitching inside you. “Now. Cum.”

In seconds, with one more rough tug of your body back onto him, he came deep inside you, grunting lowly against your skin and digging his nails down into your flesh.

“Oh God…” you whined breathily, squealing in overwhelm as you came with him, vision blurring around the edges as he shot pleasure through every nerve in your body. You could only sob out a few more “yeses” through it, pulsing down around him as he gave you a few lazy thrusts through his heavy breaths and small groans.

He kept his hands on your hips as he pulled out slowly, watching the thick white cream drip filthily out of you and onto the shower floor to be washed away by the water. He smacked his hand down on your ass before sliding a hand between your legs to finger the rest of his cum back inside you, making sure to graze his thumb over your clit to make you flinch.

“That’s my good girl.” George praised, his voice drowned out by the water but he gently pulled you from the wall so your back was pressed up to his chest. He rested your head back against his shoulder so he could look at your face as your wet chest heaved with breathlessness.

Your eyes lingered on his features, how the water cascaded down his cheeks and soaked his hair over his forehead…you could have stayed there forever with his arms around your waist and his body pressed up to yours. His lips found your jaw and left a soft kiss there before focusing back on your face and let a little smirk tug at his mouth.

“Your makeup is ruined.” he whispered.

“Mm…whose fault is that?” you laughed lightly.

“Yours. For begging for it.” George teased.

He slid his hands into yours and you laced your fingers together, letting the water run over the both of you for a moment as he held you against his chest and left kisses over your neck. After a moment he turned you around to face him and he wiped the streaked mascara from your cheeks and under your eyes and brushed your wet hair from your face. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on you, taking in your face and your body like you were unfamiliar to him, his large hands not leaving your skin for long if at all.

“We can’t see each other anymore.”

The words he spoke were gentle in tone but felt like they were physically stabbed right through your lungs. Your eyebrows furrowed a moment as you stared at him and his downcast gaze, your hands resting haphazardly against his chest.

“What?” you breathed out.

George sighed and reached behind you to turn off the shower and he grabbed a towel from the rack to wrap around your shoulders before he explained himself, “I just…don’t think that this is fair to anyone anymore.”

“It was never fair to anyone...George...what-” you took a moment to try and gather your thoughts, “What is making you say this? Does she know about us?”

“No. No, she doesn’t.”

“Then what?” you shivered slightly under his hazy gaze and the water that was drying over your bare skin. He didn’t answer for a moment so you added a, “Huh?”

“Baby,” George sighed, reaching to rub the towel over your arms to warm you up.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” you spoke softly, voice quivering, as you stepped out of the shower and onto the bathmat over the floor.

George followed and you glanced at his reflection through the mirror as you dried yourself off and gave a few extra swipes between your legs, mopping up the warm cum that was still slowly dripping out of you. George trailed his hand down your spine as he grabbed a second towel for himself, “I really like being with you.”

You didn’t answer him, simply dried yourself off beside him in silence.

“I just…we can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep this a secret any longer…not with Alex and Lando and whoever else knowing now…and we’re getting far too risky…”

You wrapped the towel around your body and faced him with a flat expression, “So what the fuck is this? This hotel room? Fucking me raw in the shower?”

“I wanted to make our last night special.” George shrugged, tracing your collarbones with his hand. The hand that was missing the bracelet. “Because I know you have feelings for-“

“Stop. Don’t.” you cut him off. “Don’t say that shit.”

George stayed quiet for a moment.

So did you.

“Let me give you one night.” he finally whispered. “One night where I’m yours. Only yours. I don’t want to end like this…in an argument…we deserve better after these last few months.”

You just stared to the side, trying to keep the tears from spilling; not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was breaking your heart.

George’s hand slid up the side of your neck and took your chin in his grasp to turn you to face him. “Look at me.” he spoke gently.

You slowly raised your eyes to his. He was standing so closely you could almost feel his warm breath on your cheek and his lashes brushed over your cheek. His lips ghosted yours and you habitually let yours linger on his in a feather soft hesitant kiss. The hotel room was silent as his lips shifted smoother onto yours, capturing them in an ever so gentle kiss that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. George’s hand on your chin guided you through another faint kiss as if testing the waters and you couldn’t help but give into him. You always gave into him.

Your hands slid up his bare chest and around his shoulders, welcoming his slow passionate kisses as his tongue found its way into your mouth. George moved slowly, grabbing the towel that was wrapped around you and pulled it from your body and onto the floor. With his hands on your bare skin, the fire of his touch was back in full force and you couldn’t help but shuffle closer to him.

George nipped teasingly at your bottom lip between kisses as his large hands slid down your back and to your ass and finally to your thighs. He crouched down just enough to lift you right up off the ground and into his arms all without breaking your deep kisses. Your legs wrapped around his waist with ease, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair to keep his lips on yours, and he carried you out of the bathroom and over to the king size bed.

Freshly showered and skin still pink from the hot water and the warm up you had, George knelt up on the end of the bed and then leaned forward to gently lay you down on the mattress, following right after you to keep his lips on yours. His hands shuffled under the back of your head and he fanned out your damp hair over the pillows as his lips moved down your neck. His touch alone was electrifying and he cradled the back of your neck as his lips left open mouthed kisses over your warm skin. His hands followed his lips, trailing down your shoulders and collarbones and down to your chest, kissing and groping and licking at your flesh until your breathing was starting to fall heavy.

“Your tits look so fucking pretty tonight, baby.” George breathed, nearly nuzzling himself between them as his hands worked them gently. Your soft gasp when his thumb grazed your nipple had him smirking and he sucked over one and then the other, teasing them with his teeth until they were nice and hard and your hand was finding its way into his damp hair. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You sighed shakily as he continued down your body, kissing wetly down to your bellybutton and over your hips, slowing tauntingly as his hands spread your legs for him. You watched him carefully as he situated himself between your legs and linked his arms under your thighs, letting a thick string of drool fall from his lips and onto your folds. George’s tongue followed it, brushing ever so gently over your body but still made you flinch and grab his hair.

He pulled back, soaking up how you looked spread for him, pussy still wet from his prior attack on your body and the faint signs of bruising over your hips had him biting back a smirk. He trailed a finger down over your folds, watching your wetness cling to his finger and he spread you open to see the traces of white left behind inside you and slowly dripping out still. George groaned lowly and kept you spread between two fingers so he could slip his tongue inside you teasingly. You gasped lightly but he pulled back just as quickly, kissing over your cunt until you were starting to grind up against his face, desperate for his touch.

Whimpering quietly, you kept one hand tangled in his hair and rolled your hips against his face and he just opened up wider for you, giving you sloppy open mouthed kisses with just enough tongue to have you quivering with desire.

“Please, sir.” you whimpered ever so quietly, staring down at him with a pretty pout that made him shutter.

He hummed, sliding his tongue up between your legs before pushing it inside you slowly.

“Yeah.” you breathed out, letting your body focus on him and nothing but the pleasure he so easily could give you.

George fucked you slowly with his tongue, lapping up your arousal and his own cum that was still left over from your hookup in the shower. He did so without hesitation, moaning softly against your skin as he nuzzled his face deeper between your thighs and ate you out like heaven. He worked slowly, licking and slurping and savouring each and every part of you until your head was falling back against the pillows with bliss.

The hotel room was perfectly silent, almost eerily silent, except for the faint sound of traffic outside behind your heavy breaths and his wet tongue. George kept his eyes on you, keeping your lips spread so his tongue could have easy access and he dragged it up and down your folds slowly and then faster and faster to make you squirm.

“Sir-“ you shuttered, grinding up against his face some more. “Please-“

His hands kept you in place by your thigh and your lower stomach, holding you down on the mattress as he had you as he pleased. Usually your hookups were rushed and quiet and often mostly about him - your purpose after all was to give him the sexual pleasure she couldn’t - but this time, he took his time with you, reaching every single nerve in your body without even touching your clit yet. You felt on fire, breathless, blissful, and hungry for more of him. You couldn’t think about the fact that this was your last time when he could so easily melt you down with a flick of his tongue.

George’s large hands moved to your thighs and pushed you open wider, feet flat on the bed and legs parted nice and far to keep you spread wide for him.

“Look at this gorgeous fucking pussy.” George breathed, leaving taunting kisses over your inner thighs before brushing his nose ever so gently against your cunt. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. Who did this to you?”

“Always you, sir.” you whispered, massaging your one hand through his damp hair.

He chuckled against you, the vibrations felt right up against your body and you inhaled sharply, especially as he finally dragged his tongue over your clit. You whimpered loudly, scrunching your eyes closed.

“Good girl. Feel it.”

His tongue dragged in slow stripes over your clit, just enough to make you squirm, rutting up against his face again. Your whimpers turned him on like you wouldn’t believe and he groaned against you as his tongue lapped at your wetness and he shook his head deeper to make a mess of it all.

“Oh God-“ you breathed to the ceiling.

His right hand slid up your body, right between your breasts, and finally to your mouth and he pushed two fingers past your lips. You sucked on them gladly as his tongue worked between your legs in slow gentle motions that made you drip.

“Say my name.” George ordered, his voice deep against your wet flesh.

“Sir-“

“No, baby. Say my name.”

Butterflies filled your body as his fingers pulled from your mouth with perfect wet suction and you let your lips bless the name you craved, “George.”

“That’s it.”

He was breaking all the rules.

“Want you to moan my name tonight, baby.”

He was breaking the rules that he put in place. The rules that kept that strong divider between your physical relationship from being anywhere near romantic.

George slid his wet fingers down your folds and pushed one inside you, groaning as he watched your head fall back against the bed and your chest rose with a shaky inhale.

“That’s my girl.” he praised, fucking you slowly with his middle finger as his tongue teased your clit. “Just feel it.”

You hummed softly, one hand still gripping his hair as your other reached behind you to fist the pillow. You let your eyes close, forcing yourself to feel it; each of his slow pumps of his finger and the sensations of his tongue edging you on. He added a second finger, making you gasp shakily and you bit down on your bottom lip through it.

“You don’t need to be quiet, sweetheart.” he whispered. “I want to hear you.”

He curled his fingers up, grazing your g-spot with ease, and you whimpered out his name, “Oh...George-”

“Good girl.” he praised, eyes staring up at you as he found a steady pace, flicking his fingers faster deep inside you as he tongued at your clit.

“Oh my God.” you whined, squirming under his control.

George’s free hand held you down by your hip, massaging over your flesh as he worked you closer, keeping his consistent pace even when your legs started to tremble. It wasn’t taking him long to get you there between the skill he housed and the fact that he had already had you once that night.

“George.” you whimpered. “George. George. George- fuck-”

He couldn’t get enough of the sound of his name when it was moaned by you, falling from your parted lips like heaven. There was nothing you wanted more than him...then to have him...to moan his name to the ceiling for the rest of time. It was overwhelming - he was overwhelming - and you pulled at his damp hair as you felt your stomach tighten, squealing quietly through the hotel room as he worked you right up to orgasm.

But then he stopped. And pulled his fingers out. And left you pulsing with need to finish.

You could only whimper out a “No” as he sat back from you.

George shushed you sweetly, pushing your legs back against your chest as he shuffled closer on his knees, “I got you. I’ll let you cum, baby. Just need to fuck you first.”

He leaned over you and you let your legs link over his arms, staring at his pretty face as he licked three fingers and slid them down your body. He slicked them up your dripping cunt, smearing your arousal and his spit some more before guiding the tip of his dick between your lips.

“Shit, I can feel your fucking heartbeat, baby girl.” George chuckled slowly, sliding the shaft of his dick up between your folds to slick himself up.

You held onto his biceps, staring wide-eyed up at his face with your lip in anticipation between your teeth as he teased you with gentle touches. He was so hard and it only made you wetter by the second, breathing out a pleading, “Please” just before he gave you what you wanted and slowly slipped inside you.

His dark eyes stared down at you as your mouth fell open in time with him and he stretched you out so nicely it always felt like your first time. Your nails dug lightly into his biceps and he set his hands on either side of your head as he bottomed out with a small groan. With how folded in half you were, he had to push down into you almost, situating himself on top of you until he was flush up against you and so deep you swore you could feel him in every nerve in your body. You shuttered.

“Good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded.

George leaned down to kiss you, sharing soft closed mouthed kisses as he got started; pulling back and pushing into you in lazy thrusts. You hummed shakily, already having been so close that this was only bringing your orgasm closer. His eyes were locked on yours, his large hands gripping the sheets on either side of you as he found a good pace, giving you quick curling thrusts nice and deep.

“G-George-” you moaned shakily, his name just tumbling from your lips without thought, eyes staring right up into his.

“That’s my girl.” he praised softly. “I want you to feel it.”

You whimpered softly, moving your hands from his arms to the backs of your thighs to hold your legs back farther, eyes finding the limited space between you to watch him thrust into you. You couldn’t hold back the habitual moan that the sight forced from your chest, listening to how wet you were as he fucked into you with filthy sounds of his thighs against your skin. George leaned down closer, biting at your bottom lip messily behind your shared heavy breathing and his passionate thrusts and you opened up to let your lips lock with his in sloppy kisses.

Your nails dragged over his hips, trying to follow his motions to savour it if at all, moaning and whining into his mouth. George broke your kiss as he grabbed your left leg and pushed it out, spreading you wider with his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and he picked up speed, fucking into you quicker to make you shriek.

“Geo-rge- fuck!” you gasped shakily, tossing your head back against the bed.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl.” George praised lowly, really pulling back to shove into you strongly again and again as he pulled your right leg up to his shoulder.

He used the spring of the mattress to his advantage, shoving you down by your thigh just enough for you to be pushed back into each quick thrust. You were falling breathless, gasping and moaning under him as your fingers twisted in the sheets above your head.

“Oh my God, oh my God!”

“Watch.” George ordered breathlessly, grabbing a handful of your damp hair to raise your head up and you stared down your body as he fucked you into the white sheets.

“Baby.” you whimpered, toes curling in the air as he had you as he wanted you. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” His hand moved from your hair to your throat, squeezing his fingers around it until you were whimpering and your eyes were nearly rolling back.

“George-” you cried shakily, clawing at his shoulders to try and cling onto him, feeling your whole body tingling with pleasure. “Holy...fuck…”

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.” he praised tauntingly.

You couldn’t help but let your mind whirl at his words. He had never been soft and possessive with you. His girl? You could have melted. It was easy to get caught up in it, his warm hands and pretty face and eyes that seemed to look at you like you were everything he ever wanted. But maybe that was just the bliss that coursed through his veins with him balls deep inside you until all you could think about was him. All you could ever think about was him.

He made you cum in seconds. He knew your body too well, even if you were only together for his physical gain. His hand around your throat squeezed you just enough for your cheeks to redden and his fingers pressed bruises into your thighs as he held your shuttering body down against the bed.

You knew perfectly well he liked it loud and honestly you couldn’t help it anyway as your head tossed back against the bed and you cried and moaned his name to the ceiling until it nearly echoed off the walls. You knew better than to leave marks on him so you could only tug at his messy brown hair still damp from the shower, hearing him groan intoxicatingly above you as your body pulsed and squeezed around him.

The moment you managed to barely take a breath, he was pulling out of you and grabbing your arm to flip you over onto your stomach.

“George-”

He slapped your ass hard and then shoved back inside you.

The action had you groaning loudly, clutching the sheets in your fists, “George-”

“Take it.” he ordered. “I know you can take more.”

He leaned right down over you with his forearms on either side of your body and started bucking into you quickly, forcing a shaky groan from your throat as your eyes fluttered shut. He was breathing hard against your ear, panting and grunting softly as the bed creaked underneath him with how rough he was taking it. Flat down against the bed, your eyes were nearly rolling back, fisting the sheets in your hands as your sensitive body welcomed him all.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” George growled against your ear.

“Uh huh.” you nodded quickly as his fingers found their way into your mouth.

“Yeah, you’re fucking mine.” George licked up your neck, shooting shivers down your spine and he sunk his teeth down into your flesh where your neck met your shoulder.

He kept his fingers in your mouth, his other hand gripping tightly to the sheets beside you, smothering his moans into your neck, as he fucked you harder until you were crying out. You felt completely on fire, tugging at the sheets and drooling around his two fingers in your mouth as his body made perfect filthy music with yours.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum.” George breathed against your ear.

“Please.” you whined.

“You want it?” George chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers from your mouth to grab a fistful of your hair and yanked on it just enough to make you shriek, “Where do you want it?”

“I-Inside me.” you begged. “Cum inside me...one last time, George. Please.”

George’s jaw clenched and he groaned against your cheek, fucking into you rougher until the headboard was nearly hitting the wall.

“Oh my God!” you squealed, yanking at the sheets as you felt your third high of the night approaching. “Don’t stop, don’t stop! Please, please, please-“

“Jesus Christ, baby.” George hissed, “Almost there. Shit.”

He slid his hand around the front of your neck, pulling your chest off the bed to find your lips with his as he finished you both off. You tried to focus, tried to engrain the feeling of his hands on you and his breath against your skin and his deep moans against your ear; tried to remember how he made you feel lightheaded when you came, how he felt around your clenching muscles as he twitched and came inside you, how it felt to be finished and filled by him until he was sighing shakily into your neck.

There was a momentary silence. The hotel room was perfectly silent except for your heavy breathing.

George dusted a kiss over your neck and moved his hand from your throat and carefully pulled out of you. He helped you onto your back, making sure your hair was brushed off your face, and he stared at you for a moment. You stared back. Memorizing. Trying to remember the feelings that were already starting to fade with the pleasure.

He shifted off of you and onto the bed beside you, moving enough to untuck the sheets and pull them up around both of your naked and flushed bodies. You rolled onto your side to face the window and he shuffled up behind you, draping a heavy arm around your waist.

Silence.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you stared blankly out the window across the room, the moon still low over the horizon but it was bright behind the buildings of Menton. You could see it clearly in the sky and you focused on it to try and ignore the ache in your heart. George’s hand was pressed to your stomach to hold you close and you blinked away the tears forming in your eyes as you set your hand over his.

His lips brushed over your shoulder and left soft kisses in their wake. It was almost serene. Almost like it was where you were meant to be; in his arms. He was already in your heart.

The reality of your situation felt like a never ending weight on your chest, crushing and suffocating, and there was nothing you could do about it.

George held you for an hour.

It wasn’t often that you stayed together after you hooked up - after all, you were only ever there for the sex - but the way he lingered made your heart hurt worse. Part of you wished he would just go. His thumb rubbed gentle patterns back and forth over your stomach and his breath felt warm against your back right between your shoulder blades. You wanted to cry. You wanted him to leave already so you could cry.

“George.”

Your voice was wavering.

He shifted slightly behind you so he could lean up on his arm to look at you. He could see the tears in your eyes despite how you tried to look as nonchalant as possible.

“What is it?” he asked softly, raising his hand from your waist to brush over your cheek.

You took all your courage to make your final request, your final attempt, “Break up with her.”

George sighed softly, “I can’t.”

You kept your stare straight out the window, “Why?”

“I love her.” he said without a thought.

You bit your lip. George rested his hand on your shoulder and kissed your bare skin.

“Do you not love me?” you asked, your quiet voice trembling in fear of his response to the question you knew you had to ask.

“I…” George thought now, trying to word his response, “I love you in a different way.”

You exhaled deeply.

Silence.

“I need to go.” George finally whispered.

“Where?” you asked.

“We just shouldn’t drag this out.” he replied.

You didn’t reply. You knew where he was going to go anyway. Who he was going to see. You nodded.

There was a pause. You could feel his eyes on you.

After a moment, when it was obvious you weren’t going to say anything else, he shifted away from you and got out of bed. You heard him walk a few paces away and start to get dressed. You could see him in the dark reflection of the open window; his silhouette pulling his boxers on and then his jeans. You heard the zip of the zipper and the shuffle of the button being done up. Each quiet second, each muted sound of his clothing returning to his body made your heart ache.

“I already paid for the room so you can stay here tonight if you want.” George said gently, “Order room service…anything you want…it’ll all go to my card.”

You didn’t want room service. You didn’t want a hotel room. You just wanted him.

You could barely reply with an “Okay.”

George stared at you as he buttoned up his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in slight concern as he stared at your curled up body under the white hotel sheets. You looked small in the king size bed. He spoke your name softly and when you made no move to answer, he walked around to the side of the bed, standing between you and the moon. He crouched down to look at you and you bit your lip under his stare.

“Don’t cry, okay? Please.” he whispered, noticing the shimmer of your eyes.

You pulled the sheets higher to hide your face from him when you couldn’t hold back a tear that seeped into the white fabric with ease. You held your breath.

“Why can’t it be me?” you whimpered ever so softly.

Part of you wished he didn’t hear your pathetic pleas but he did. George sighed and ran a tired and stressed hand over his face.

“It just…it just won’t work. In another life maybe.”

You whimpered, “Was I only ever a meaningless fuck to you?”

George’s silence was your answer and despite his hesitation to deny your statement, you couldn’t hold back your sob.

George breathed your name and tried to reach for you, resting his hand against your hair to try and get you to look at him, to try and console you, to try and convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

“Just go.” you said flatly behind the sheets.

He paused.

“George.” you said as strongly as you could possibly muster. “Please leave.”

The weight of his hand lifted from your shoulder and the shadow of his body that the moonlight cast over you faded with his footsteps. His car keys were lifted from the table. The door opened. The door shut.

The very second silence fell and the reality of your loneliness pressed on your naked body, you burst into tears. He left you. He left you like it was easy. Like the last few months and all your nights together and whispered blissful words meant nothing to him.

But what did you expect when you were the side piece anyway. You were never his first choice. And you never would be.

When the sun rose, it woke you at daybreak. The curtains were still open so the room brightened as the horizon was pooling with light. You squinted in the brightness and rolled over in the frightfully empty king size bed. The sheets lingered ever so faintly with the smell of him. Your skin was bruised by his touches. Your mind was plagued by the sound of his praise through his moans.

That’s my girl.

You grabbed your phone to find no missed messages but a single notification.

georgerussell63 posted a photo

You opened it.

You let Instagram load.

Your breath froze your lungs like ice.

It felt like a dagger had lodged itself right in your chest and you could feel each layer of skin and muscle tearing and aching around the blade. It was a picture of him with her…and sickening caption stating how much he adored her…how much he loved her…how much he was wholeheartedly dedicated and wanted to show her off to the world.

He broke your heart to go public with her.

It shouldn’t have hurt you when your entire situation was based on lies and adultery but it was true. You had fallen in love with him over the few short months you had in secrecy. You had fallen in love with him and the little grain of rice sized life that was growing inside you.

You wanted to tell him that night. You wanted to tell him that you were pregnant and it was his and this was his way out. But why would you tell the man who didn’t love you that you carried your shared future inside your body? You couldn’t force him to love you. And you couldn’t force him to love a baby conceived from a relationship of deceit.

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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 1 year

Text

A different side.

Anon request:

Asking Timmy to role play a character in the bedroom. Would he be for it or against it? What if you wanted a dark Paul vibe

Please write that Tim role play request, sounds 🔥 Also, what are you currently working on if you don't mind me asking? :)

Wordcount: 2.4K+

Description: An offhanded comment about Paul has your husband tapping into his dark side and fulfilling your fantasy

A/N: This to whoever requested this, think you so much. I had too much fun writing this. I don’t know if this was as Dark as you wanted, but I hope you love it.🧡🧡

Warning: Purely smut, a bit of fluff. DomTimmy/Paul, subreader, degrading, breeding kink, spanking, overwhelming orgasms.

It was an offhanded comment really. Timmy was halfway across the world filming Dune part 2. The girls were asleep and you were facetime your husband as you watched the first movie. A bowl of ice cream set in front of you as your eyes were glued to the screen.

“Fuck! When Paul yells at Jessica, it does something for me,” you mumbled your eyes glued to the television.

“Excuse me?” Timmy asked chuckling. He was getting out of the shower, a towel in his hair when he came into frame on your laptop.

Your eyes sadly moved from Paul to Timmy. Of course, your husband was Paul, but the energy, the dominating presence that you felt from Paul on the screen was not like your husband. Timmy had his fair share of dominating moments and you loved them, but Paul was dangerous when upset and you loved it, he was toxic and you couldn’t help, biting your lower lip when you saw him.

“Don’t look so disappointed to see me, Bunny,” he chuckled, pouting slightly. “I feel cheated on,” he added.

��Oh shush, you’re Paul if you've forgotten,” you reminded him.

“You don’t look at me like that,” he countered. “I didn’t know you had such a thing for him.”

“How could I not, fuck he is just so dangerous and powerful. Looking at him and you know he is a good fuck. Holding you down, making you sob and beg sort of fuck. Caring about his pleasure over yours,” you said, starting to get worked up as you spoke.

“And you are into that?” He continued to chuckle, watching you closely.

You glared at him as he chuckled, eating more of your ice cream shrugging. “I’m into whatever Paul is into. Feminism leaves my body when it comes to him.”

“You are being ridiculous,” he said.

You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “If you came home as Paul, I would do anything you ask.”

“You don’t even do that for me,” he said, upset.

“That’s because you aren’t the Heir of Arrakis.”

“But I am,” he pouted.

“Paul wouldn’t pout,” you pointed out, but still cooing at your adorable husband.

“I’m hanging up,” he said.

“And I’m going to finish the movie and take a shower thinking about Paul,” you teased.

“So mean bunny.”

“Do you think Paul would have a cute pet name for his lover?”

“Goodbye, love you,” he said, hanging up.

You laughed as you shut down your laptop, rewinding the moment to rewatch your favorite scene.

That was a week ago and for the most part, you had forgotten all about it. Well maybe late at night after a shower, when you thought of your husband, he would turn into Paul, but either way, it was not on your mind.

With the girls spending the weekend with Nicole, you had the house to yourself. Sitting on the couch in shorts and one of Timmy’s hoodies, you were startled when the front door opened. Timmy wasn’t due home for another few days, but it couldn’t have been anyone else.

“Wife, do you not greet me your husband when he arrives home,” His voice rang out from the foyer.

Your eyes raised and you scoffed getting off the sofa ready to curse your husband out as you made your way to the foyer. “What the actual fuck are you going on about. Chalamet don’t make me kick your ass when you first get ho-ho-ho…” You froze when you turned the counter and saw Timmy.

Well, it was Timmy, but he was wearing Paul’s formal wear, his hair styled to perfection. His demeanor was cold and one that oozed power and demanded respect. A slight smirk tugged on his lips. Gone was your husband and in his place was Paul Atreides. “Have you forgotten your place?” He growled out, walking forward and grabbing your hair, anger and barely concealed venomous rage.

You gasped, but it was instantly swallowed as his lips descended onto yours, shoving his tongue down your throat, claiming your mouth for his own. Your eyes closed and you whimpered pathetically into his mouth.

He chuckled yanking your hair and tearing your lips apart. You were breathing heavily as you stared at him. “Nothing smart to say, anymore? Has your Emperor shut you up?” He teased, tugging your hair again.

“Paul,” you whimpered, still trying to wrap your head around what the hell was going on, but more than excited for it. Heat pooled in your pit of your stomach and your hole pulsed needily for him.

With lightning reflexes, Paul’s hand moved from your hair to your throat. “Let’s get something clear here. I’m your Emperor, you will address me as such. I fuck you when I want and whoever I want and you take it like a good girl, understand?” He ordered, tightening his grip for a moment before loosening.

“Yes, I understand.”

His eyes darken. “Are you forgetting something,” he growled.

“I understand, Emperor. I only serve you. For your pleasure,” you stammered.

“Good little slut.”

You whimpered at that, causing him to smirk widely at you. The next moment, your husband tossed you over his shoulder and walked toward the bedroom. He tossed you on the bed carelessly grinning as he watched you bounce a few times. More desperate whimpers coming out of your mouth.

“You needy little slut, kiss me,” he ordered.

You moved to your knees, moving quickly to him at the end of the bed, kissing him hungrily. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer wanting his body as close to yours as humanly possible.

He cupped the back of your head gently and softly, pulling away slightly. “Is this okay? Doing this?” He whispered, Paul was temporally gone and Timmy was in his place. “Calling you names.”

You nodded, “Yes, perfectly fine. Do your worst, Paul,” you smirked.

Narrowing his eyes, Paul was back and he was pushing you into the bed face down, pulling your clothes off of your body. “You are really fucking with me, Slut. Calling me Paul again. You are asking to be punished.”

“I’m sorry, so sorry. Please punish me, Emperor,” you begged.

He scoffed, “So needy for punishment. You should be more shameful.” He said, pulling his belt off and snapping it a few times, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

“Whore,” he tusked, bringing the belt down on your ass. You cried out at the hit, your hips stuttering, but he gave you no time to recover as he brought the belt down again and again on your ass.

“Look at you so red for me, perfect, but I want to see that little precious cunny, spread your legs,” he said.

Whining softly, you spread your legs, your hands and legs shaking slightly. Your cunt was dripping onto the bed just as much as your face was. Paul groaned at the sight of your soaking cunt.

“There it is, my favorite fucking cunt in the whole empire,” He said, taking the metal part of the belt and rubbing it between your folds. You sucked in a shaky breath as the cold bumped up against your clit.

“Please, Emperor,” you begged.

“Do you think you deserve it, consort?”

“No, sir. Please punish me more.”

He just grunted in reply, before spreading your lips and smacking the metal part on your clit. Your hips raised off the bed and you sobbed louder. “Take it and be a good girl,” he said, smacking you repeatedly. The harsh metal hitting your sensitive clit along with his words had you shaking against the bed as your orgasm tore through you.

“Magnificent,” he said, tossing the belt to the floor, flipping you onto your back as he kneeled in front of you. “Cumming from getting your clit spanked, what a little whore you are for me,” he chuckled.

“Only you.”

“Fucking better be, this cunt belongs to me, this clit-” he moved closer, his lips hovering over it- “belongs to me,” he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly.

“No no wait, I need a moment,” you whined, wrapping your legs around his head and wiggling your hips to free your clit.

His eyes snapped to yours “You dare deny your Emperor?” He growled, roughly parting your legs, pinning them to the bed.

You stared down at him, breathing hard. “Never.” You replied.

“That’s what I thought, now keep your legs open,” he instructed before resuming his attack on your clit, sucking as if it was the last meal. Rubbing his fingers along your juices, he forced three fingers into you.

You gasped, rocking against his face and fingers. “So good, so amazing my Emperor. Your whore loves it,” you moaned, your back arching off the bed as another orgasm quickly approaching.

His eyes stayed on you the whole time, drinking in how you summitted to him, how he used your body as he pleased and you just took it. He stretched you with his fingers, rubbing against your tight walls.

You moaned loudly, your eyes shutting as you lost yourself. “Can I cum again, sir?” You asked, barely able to hold it back.

With a quick nod, you were coming undone again, screaming his name. His tongue replaced his fingers and he noisily slurped up all cum as you squirted all over his face. You could barely breathe and nothing but little whines slipped back your lips.

A harsh slap to your thigh brought you back and you looked down at your soaking Emperor. “Don’t you dare drop on me yet,” he commanded as he stripped his clothes from his body, grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Hands and Knees.”

You nodded, “Yes Emperor,” you said, but your whole body was still on fire and you had no control. “Help me,” you whispered.

His eyes soften and he was gathering you in his arms. “Do you need to stop,” Timmy asked, kissing all over your face.

“You haven’t cum.”

“You have, I don’t want to push you too far.”

You smiled softly, Paul was fucking unreal, but you loved your caring and loving Timmy. “Want Paul to fuck me,” you said, kissing him.

Groaning he kissed you back greedily, biting your lower lips, traveling to your jaw, neck and shoulders, leaving marks along the way. “Let your Emperor help you,” he said, pulling away and helping you to your hands and knees.

Once you were situated, Paul delivered another smack to your sore ass. Your knees buckled and he chuckled darkly. “I think that it is time you give me an heir. I’m going to breed your slutty cunt.

“Yes please breed me, want to give you an heir, it would be my privilege.”

“Horny whore for me, I fucking love it,” he spread your cunt once again, slapping your cunt before plunging into your cunt. Your muscles tightened around him around so sore and sensitive from your orgasms.

“Such a tight little whore for me,” he groaned, pulling out slowly, leaving only his tip in. “Gonna breed you so well,” he moaned, snapping his hips forward and driving his cock back into you. You opened your mouth in a silent scream as your knees and arms gave out and you dropped into the bed.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he said, grabbing your hips and lifting them up until they barely touched the bed. “Let me breed you, you’ve been so good, just a little bit longer,” he praised, fucking you relentlessly.

His grip on your hips hurt so badly and you loved it. Your hips thrust back on his cock, forcing him deeper, his cock hitting your spot with every thrust. Paul throbbed inside of you rolling his hips, his ball smacking your clit with each thrust.

Paul dropped your hips, flatting his body onto yours forcing you deeper into the mattress. Every part of your body touched him, you could only hear him, smell him, and feel him as he sort his own pleasure.

“Are you ready for my cum, slut? Ready to carry my heir?” His hand moved to your belly and you knew it wasn’t just Paul that wanted to put a baby into you.

“Yes please. F-Fuck, want your heir, need your baby in me,” you cried as your eyes rolled back in your head and you came around his cock. Squeezing him impossibly tight.

French curses flew from his mouth as he lost control and painted your inside white with his cum. His hips never stopped moving as he forced his cum deeper. “Take it, fucking give me an heir.” He ordered repeatedly.

Your vision blurred and your body trembled as you sobbed as he fucked you both through your releases. A few minutes later he stilled inside of you, groaning into your ear, kissing the back of your neck.

“Too much, Timmy,” you whined. He slowly pulled out, moving off of you and pulling you into his arm. You whined as he pulled out and moved you. Your body ached and you were struggling to breathe.

“Hey hey,” he whispered, cupping your face. “Breathe bunny, breathe. I got you, I’m here. My beautiful wife, my perfect bunny. I’m here,” he soothed, running his hands along your sides. You nodded, breathing deeply.

Your eyes opened, later on, you were unsure of when you passed out, but you woke to Timmy still holding you whispering his love and encouragement into your ear as he kisses every part of your body.

“Bath, I feel sticky and icky,” you said, alerting him that you were back with him. He grinned goofy and lovingly at you.

“Bunny, you were so brilliant. I love you so much,” he said kissing you.

You smiled, kissing his back and cupping his head. “I love you too.”

Timmy took you into his arms carrying you to the bathroom where a steamed bath waited for you. It was covered in bubbles and you grinned, kissing his shoulder as he got in with you in his arms.

Once you were settled against him, he began washing you. You both were quiet, basking in each other presence. “I missed you,” he said. “Hate being away from you and the girls,”

“I missed you too, we all do, but we love knowing you are doing what you love and we will always be here waiting for you.”

“And I will always come home to my loves,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“So what the hell was that?” You chuckled.

“You clearly had a thing for Paul, I wanted to make your fantasy come true,” he said. “Did it?”

You turned around, wrapping your legs around his waist. “It exceeded my fantasies, fucking hell. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Oh bunny there is still so much I could and will do to you,” he said, his eyes filling with lush again.

Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet smut #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #paul atreides smut

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crackedpumpkin · 11 months

Text

|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ||

a/n: Hello loves! So sorry I kept y'all waiting for part three, I hope you enjoy this! Just wanted to let y'all know that I'll be flying off to South Korea for a vacation, and will only be back on the 22nd of June so updates will be paused till then. I'll try to continue writing on my trip, but there are no guarantees I won't be too tired lolol. Love, pumpkin.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

Blackmail — The act of attempting to force someone to do something or give up something valuable by threatening negative consequences if they don’t, especially revealing negative information about them.

That's what the online dictionary says anyway, which is perfect!

As such, it wouldn't be blackmail as much as it would be....persuasive negotiation. Which is the exact opposite of blackmail, which, again, is perfect!

Yeah, you’re getting nowhere with this.

You stifle a defeated groan as you collapse onto the plush mattress of your bed, dragging your hands down your face. Your phone beeps with a message, startling you out of your thoughts.

Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: Did you find what you were looking for?

Nicole [ 7.15 PM ]: ?

Nicole [ 7.30 PM ]: Update me tomorrow.

Right. Nicole. Your hand falls limply to the side, fingers loosely gripping the device.

Crap.

How would you explain it to her? She’s always been good at sniffing out your lies. To tell, or not to tell. That is the question. Maybe you should just pretend nothing happened. That’d be the only reasonable thing to do in this situation, right?

But your art is at risk here. And if it’s anything you’ve learnt over your many years of living, it’s that you’re a stubborn bull that can’t back down once you’re set on something. And right now, you’re set on getting Spiderman to be your model.

You might get your mojo back if you draw him enough times. Maybe your art block won’t be so constipated anymore, and perhaps you might even get into the art school you have your eye on.

And maybe, just maybe, you might catch the eye of the art scouts at the end-of-year exhibition.

So there’s no way you can afford to give this up.

You’ll convince him. You have to.

— — — — —

“So, why’d you ignore my messages yesterday?”

You flinch away from the sudden hand on your shoulder, fingers decorated with rings glinting in the sun. Michael winces from where he’s standing opposite you, taking a long, slow sip of his juice box.

You stammer out Nicole’s name in surprise, the girl in question looking at you with a raised brow and serious eyes. She scans your nervous smile and flushed cheeks, letting go of you with a nod.

“You met him. How was it?”

Damn it.

“I didn’t end up meeting him,” You say with a defeated sigh, hoping it’s not excessive. Being under Nicole’s observant gaze is one of the scariest experiences in the world, with pigeons in close proximity a close second.

“Okay,” Her dubious tone gives you a slight sense of hope, only for your heart to drop at her next question. “So, why’d you ask me for Miles’s photo?”

“I, uh, ran into him and thought he looked familiar. So, I asked for his picture to double check,” You admit, hoping the truth mixed into some lies would be enough to convince her.

“Right…What’s your impression of him, then?”

“Cute?” You blurt out without thinking, recalling the framed picture of his young self with his parents on the small table.

“You think he’s cute?”

“M-maybe?” You try, but it clicks once you see the disgust in her eyes. “Yes! I do, in fact, find him very attractive. One might even say that he is now my…crush?”

You pray she doesn’t notice the underlying wince in your words. Nicole shudders, taking a small step away from you. “You need to get your eyes checked or something. I’ve known the guy since we were in diapers, and trust me when I say that he’s nothing but trouble.”

“I won’t do anything, I promise. Besides, I’m sure the crush is just temporary. It’ll blow over before you even know it!” Mainly because you don’t have a crush on the guy in the first place. But you do need to figure out a way to trap him to persuade him into being your model.

“Wait, you met Miles?”

“Why’re you glossing over the fact that she likes him?” Nicole says incredulously, gesturing to you with wide eyes. It’s probably the most expressive you’ve ever seen her, save for the time you invited them to go cafe hopping with you on a sweltering Monday.

You’d never heard so many variations of curses before, all of which Nicole unintentionally introduced you to. Since then, you’ve learnt to only hang out on cooler days with better weather and cafes within walking distance.

“So?” Michael shrugs nonchalantly, but the amused smile on his lips suggests otherwise. “Why are you so affected?”

“Because it’s my best friend liking Miles Morales - the guy I’ve known since we were babies. He’s not good enough for her.” Nicole decides with a frown. You turn to her, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you place your hands on your heart.

“I’m your best friend?” Nicole rolls her eyes at your words, crossing her arms. “You can drop from that tier anytime, so you better watch out.” She replies simply with a halfhearted glare, but her words have no bite to them. Her ears are tinted red.

“Aww,” You coo, throwing your arms around the girl who baulks in surprise, almost falling to the ground had you not steadied both of you. She wriggles under your tight hug, giving up quickly with a groan.

“Let me get in on that, chicas-” Michael is cut off when you kick his ankle, biting back a pained cry while you continue to hug Nicole, who has a satisfied smirk at your action. “Good job.” She pats your arm, and you reluctantly let go, dramatically wiping the tears away.

At least you succeeded in distracting her.

The rest of the day practically flies by, your body on autopilot and going through the motions of taking out your textbooks and doodling on them. Math, Science, and History were all meaningless in your eyes as you tried to make another plan to meet him. The past three attempts had shown you exactly how difficult it was to meet with the hero, much less alone.

You’re not one to give up, though. You stare down at the piece of paper filled with doodles and scribbled words — an outline of a plan, circling Spiderman’s name in red.

Okay, let’s try this again.

Attempt #1: Meet Him At The Park - The Friendly Way.

You take a tentative glance around. Good, No dogs are in sight. You look over to the park's far end, where you had set up a sign saying that dog treats were being given out for free if they assembled there.

Sometimes, lying is an essential means of survival. Another quick scan of your surroundings confirms that no one is in the path of the taco truck, and feeling only slightly guilty when you spot the owner’s surprised expression, wondering why his usual customers aren’t present.

However, you try not to linger on that, choosing to double-check if everything you need is on you.

Phone? Check. Earbuds? Check. Wallet? Check. Spiderman?

You grin once you spot the masked hero landing in front of the taco truck, right on schedule.

Check.

Standing up, you slowly make your way over, giving him time to place his order. Every step is light, your heart oddly calm as you approach him. Yeah. You got this. It’s just getting him to agree that’s the hard part.

Okay. You got this. Play it cool.

Walking up to the taco truck, you clear your throat, propping your elbow onto the small metal platform near the baskets of condiments. You casually glance at him, scanning his suit from head to toe before meeting his eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies slowly with a slight tilt of his head, surprised by your sudden presence. He taps his fingers against the cold metal of the taco truck in a steady rhythm. You take a slow breath. You can take your time. It’s just a boy under the mask, after all.

“So, how’s being Spiderman going?” You ask absentmindedly, looking down at your nails and only now noticing that you’re in desperate need of a manicure.

“It’s going good. And you?”

“Could be better.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Is it anything your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman can help with?” His words are filled with worry, now giving you his full attention.

Got him.

“Well…” You trail off, barely managing to hide the excitement in your eyes and voice. Now’s the time to approach him carefully. If you’re careless, you could lose one of the few opportunities to get him to be your muse.

“Uh-huh?” He grabs the paper bag of tacos the owner hands him, handing him a crumpled bill from a hidden pocket in his suit with a quick nod of thanks in one smooth movement. However, he hears a slight commotion a short distance away, eyes narrowing as he tries to determine the source.

“I’m an art student, and I need a muse,” You continue, encouraged by his questioning hum and failing to notice the way his gaze is focused on something happening behind you. “So I was thinking-”

“Right, uh, miss. You seem like an absolutely wonderful lady. I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to continue this conversation another day. Duty’s kinda calling right now. I’ll pass by the basketball court tomorrow, and you can ask me your question there?” You can’t tell if he’s smiling, grinning, or even scowling under the mask. But it didn’t exactly sound hostile, so that’s that you suppose.

“Meet me at the sub shop on Fifth Avenue, two lefts after the huge statue and a right at the Lego store. Two-thirty P.M.,” You reply immediately. Why Mr Perez’s shop, in particular, you didn’t know. But you’re not about to chase after his ass again after the last few times. Not a chance in hell.

He agrees with a quick but apologetic nod, already swinging off with his paper bag of tacos and heading toward the angry horde of dog parents around the sign you placed earlier. You watch him land before them, trying to calm the group down.

Well, at least you got an appointment with him tomorrow. The problem now is how to make sure he accepts. Plus, him constantly running off isn’t the most ideal scenario in your situation.

So, you have to make sure he stays put.

You walk off, heading to the sub shop with the beginnings of an idea. (While simultaneously forgetting about the horde of dog parents who’re growing increasingly angrier from the absence of promised dog treats).

— — — — —

“Mr Perez, nice shirt! Did you separate the whites from the colours? It looks so clean!” You greet as soon as you walk in, taking a deep breath and smiling at the scent of pickle brine. The store is relatively empty, the last customer leaving through the door just as you walked in.

The store owner walks to the glass door, flipping the sign around to read Closed. He sends you a wary glance, walking back behind the counter to start cleaning up while you lean against the glass display case.

“What do you want?”

“Who said I wanted anything?”

“You only compliment my laundry when you want something.” It’s true. You do tend to do that. You suppose it’s time to be rid of the habit. But not today, for you have much more important goals to pursue.

“Okay. I need to borrow the storeroom for, like, a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon. No disturbances, complete privacy. Not even Didi is allowed in.” You get straight to the point, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“...Are you doing drugs?”

“That’s gross. And unsanitary. If I were doing drugs, I’d do it in the Science lab at school.” You point out, scrunching your nose in disgust.

“Are you smoking? Vaping?”

“No, and no. C’mon, Mr Perez, I thought you knew me better than that!” You huff, though you know that he’s just joking from the amused twinkle in his eyes.

“Fine. Just give me the signal. Besides, Didi’s at preschool tomorrow till five.” He says simply, wiping down his workstation with a clean cloth.

“Really? No takebacks!” You say with an exaggerated gasp, not expecting him to actually agree. The bright smile on your face makes him chuckle, shaking his head fondly as he washes up the kitchen knives in the sink.

“What time will you be coming?”

“Two-thirty. Remember, you promised no questions asked!” You call out over your shoulder as you exit while raising your hand in a quick salute. You saunter on home with your hands in your pockets, chest swelling with pride that you got a guaranteed meeting with the very boy you’ve been trying to convince to be your muse.

You’ve definitely got this.

— — — — —

Attempt #2: Kidnap Meet Him At The Sub Store - The Friendly Way.

Two-fifteen P.M.

You glance over at the IKEA clock hanging from the wall opposite you in the storeroom, tying the string securely around the metal shelf. Taking a step back, you survey the setup, scanning it for flaws in your otherwise perfect plan.

You arrange the chair to sit behind a wobbly table that’s about to break any day now due to countless playtimes with Didi’s mischievous ideas. (And maybe some of your own, but Mr Perez doesn’t need to know that.)

The bright light in the slightly cramped storeroom only adds to the ambience (of what, you don’t really know yourself). The punching bag hanging in the corner of the room is definitely no cause for concern. Maybe he’d think that you’re really into exercise. All that’s left is for Spiderman to get caught in your perfect trap. You’re pretty sure he won’t get hurt in the process.

The only thing left now is to wait. You head out into the front of the store, waving Spiderman over as soon as you see him enter. He follows with a skip in his step, only to slow down when you guide him into the storeroom.

“Uh…This is new, even for me.” He comments, looking around at the stacked boxes and metal shelves, unsure of what to make of this sudden change in vibe. You gesture at the chair, closing the door behind you.

“Sorry, I just needed a place away from prying eyes.” You sigh, discreetly watching him take a seat. He does so without hesitation, and you immediately grab the end of the string that’s hooked onto the metal shelf, using all of your strength (and the help of a pulley) to yank it.

Spiderman yelps, dangling from the ceiling by a tightly secured string around his ankle. “What the-? You said you needed help!”

“And I do!” You reply, a tinge of desperation in your words. “Just…just hang on.” You breathe out, taking the frying pan on the shelf next to you after securing the string and leaving him dangling still. You approach him, Spiderman failing to notice, too preoccupied with trying to escape.

“Michael better be right about this,” You mumble under your breath, taking a quick swing and hitting the spot on his head that Michael promised would knock anyone out instantly. Spiderman’s eyes close, his cry of protest cut off as his hands fall limply to his sides.

“Oh.” You stare down at him, squatting down and reaching your hand out to gently massage the spot where you hit him with a guilty smile. You hadn’t expected it to actually work. “Sorry, Morales. My goals aren’t to harm you, promise.”

Standing back up with a wince, you can feel the joints in your body popping from the sudden stretch. You never really bothered with exercise, categorizing your sketching and painting as such.

You huff, grabbing his arms and pulling him across the room after untying him from the string around his ankle. “But one of them might be to start working out,” You say through gritted teeth, finally reaching the punching bag. You take a deep breath, doing your best to pick him up and hold him against it while you tie him up.

“No-” Your muffled cry is cut short when your arms give out, and you fall onto your back with the unconscious hero lying on top of you. You groan, pushing him off you, eyeing the punching bag with distaste.

Another repeated attempt ends in the same result, and your back starts to ache from the impact of the hard surface against your back. You see him starting to stir, your eyes widening in panic, instinctively grabbing the frying pan and hitting him again. He falls back to the floor with a hushed groan while you breathe a sigh of relief.

You stand back up, eyeing the punching bag, before an idea hits you.

Finally, you sit in the chair in front of the punching bag, taking out your sketchbook from the bag you'd placed on one of the shelves this afternoon and beginning to sketch him leisurely. You spot him slowly blinking, regaining his consciousness as he realises that he’s tied up.

"So..." You drawl, leaning back in your seat with a lazy grin. The city's local hero, Spiderman, dangles upside down in your trap. You actually did it. You got him to stay put.

He struggles to get free from the tightly bound ropes, almost tugging off his mask in the process before giving up seconds after. “Not again…” You hear him groan in defeat, looking back up at you with a deadpan stare.

"I have to admit, I love the new suit." You comment, grabbing a pencil and doing a quick sketch, ignoring his earlier words.

"What do you want from me?"

You pause, looking up from your sketchbook. "You sound pretty young to be a hero." You purse your lips, trying to guess his age.

"W-what? No, I don't." His voice turns gruff, and you chuckle from how obvious he was forcing it to be.

"I don't really want much. Just to draw you is all." You hum, flipping a page and letting pencil meet paper.

"What?"

You don't respond, eyes trained on sketching the dimensions of his midnight black suit. "I like the spray paint."

"Thanks," He's surprised by your comment, hands still furiously working to free himself.

"Aren't you a villain?" He questions, unable to hold back his curiosity. You weren't really doing anything to him either, not like the muggers or robbers that roam the streets at night.

You were just... drawing him.

"I just thought the suit was cool." You respond simply with a shrug, looking straight at the white material on his mask that hides his eyes.

He flinches, surprised by the sudden eye contact. "And you trapped me because...?"

"I wanted to draw it."

"You could've just asked."

"I tried. You weren't really paying attention, or you weren’t available. Hero duties and all, remember? "

Now that you mentioned it, the hero does remember you from the mugging and the excuses he’d made, shrugging sheepishly in response.

"Oh. My bad."

The corner of your lips tugs upwards into a slight smile. At least he has the common decency to admit it.

"Could you untie me, though? It's getting a little uncomfortable." He voices out, fingers still trying to wriggle free.

"Sure, but I'll need something in exchange."

He sighs. Of course, you did. People always wanted something from him as Spiderman, be it a photo or to gain clout.

"What is it?" He's wary now.

You grin, hands closing the sketchbook with a loud snap as you place your pencil on your chair, getting up.

"That's easy," You walk towards him with ease, eyes filled with certainty. You're inches away from his upside-down figure, leaning in slightly until your lips are next to where his ear would be under the mask.

"Be my model, Miles Morales.”

He stills at the mention of his name. “Wh-what? I don’t know who this Miles guy is, but I’m obviously not him.” He laughs nervously, shaking his head.

You can practically see the waves of panic flooding through his mind. “You just changed the pitch of your voice,” You point out casually instead, leaning back against the wall with a smirk, your hands in your pockets.

“I’m telling you, I’m not this Miles guy you think I am. Though I’m very sure he may be cool enough to be Spiderman, I am not him.” He almost trips over his words, flinching when you move your hand close to his mask.

“Then I guess you won’t mind if I take this off?” You hum, spotting him trying to use his electric powers to break free. “Don’t bother. The strings are made out of insulated material.”

He flinches away from your fingers brushing against the side of his face, his eyes meeting yours and knowing he’s already lost this battle. “Fine.” He surrenders, his eyes narrowed into a hostile glare directed at you.

“Don’t be like that,” You chide, sitting cross-legged in front of him with a disapproving shake of your head. “Besides, I’m just here to make a deal with you.”

“Is this about the model thing?”

“Yeap,” You confirm, popping the ‘p’. “Here’s all I’m asking. Let me meet up with you twice a week. I’ll even pay you ten bucks per session. All you gotta do is sit there.” The intensity of his glare lessens somewhat, though you can still sense his wariness. Makes sense, though, considering you’ve just essentially ensured he can’t say no. Besides, your terms and conditions aren’t half bad either.

You wait patiently for his response, giving him time to mull over it.

“Deal. Now let me go.”

“Uh-uh, not just yet,” You tut, moving over to your bag, grabbing the makeshift contract you drafted last night, and showing it to him with a triumphant grin. “I even added two different lines for both of your signatures. Spiderman’s and Miles Morales.”

He rolls his eyes, and you take that as a good sign, cutting him loose. He falls gracefully to the floor, landing in a perfect superhero pose. You applaud, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for staying calm throughout the entire exchange. He takes the pen you hand to him, scrawling his name on the dotted line. You smile widely and keep the contract back in your bag, practically on cloud nine with this accomplishment.

Unfortunately, the euphoria makes you forget you’re still in a cramped storeroom.

Wincing when your elbow knocks against a loosely stacked box, you and Spiderman watch it slowly topple on its side, landing on the floor with a loud bang before looking at each other with wide eyes.

Okay, so maybe you don’t got this as much as you thought.

You freeze when the door opens, looking behind you to see Mr Perez with his hand on the doorknob. His eyes flit from you to Spiderman, his gaze settling on the open box on the ground with vegetables spilling out of it before looking back at you with furrowed brows.

As soon as your eyes meet, you smile sheepishly.

“I’ll babysit on Friday.”

— — — — — — —

taglist: (definitely not because I forgot I said I'd tag people lol)

@oh-kurva @brunnetteiwik @queerponcho @sleepingnova @1theestallionyas

#spiderman: into the spiderverse #Into The Spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #into the spiderverse x reader #spiderman: into the spiderverse x reader

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everythingne · 2 months

Text

out of the woods (ls2) masterlist

logan sargeant x ferrari!ex!oc

After a short break during her time as a Ferrari reserve driver, loud-mouthed driver Dhanishka Dubey resurfaces when she moves up to f1 under Ferrari. She’s back to terrorize her ex, none other than Logan Sargeant when she conquers him once again this season, just like before, just like always.

But when faced with your first love, and your only love, it's hard to let those feelings past. Especially when a relationship was prematurely ended, especially when she's everything you aren't, especially when you never got over his love.

continuation/sister series of marketing ploy (you do NOT have to read marketing ploy to understand this fic however!)

nicoles notes: in my masterlist era <3 listen. i love dhanishka and logan. y'all sleep on them!!! not much else to say here but enjoy enjoy enjoy !!

chapter one:

Before the season begins, Max and Charles gather all the drivers for a big 'team dinner.' All night Dhanishka and Logan are sneaking glances, riling eachother up, and ignoring each others presence. Until Logan decides to try and mend things in a sort of passive way. And then unshared emotions take over.

chapter two:

With a home race that couldn't go better, Dhanishka feels the confidence to let loose. But, Bahrain's post race celebration brings up some confusing feelings Dhanishka definitely won't handle the best. Charles plays the disappointed older brother role very well, Daniel is a bit of an enabler as is Lando, who also wins a bet with McLaren. Also, the FIA makes a weird call.

chapter three:

Sky News writes some interesting articles, and the Davis brothers cause a bit of a problem via ignorance and blackmail. Charles and Dhanishka have their most uneventful talk and the FIA makes their decision. Another article is written, Logan overshares, and somehow Charles, Oscar, and Alex end up on damage control.

chapter four:

With the fake dating (or real dating?) ploy underway, Dhanishka and Logan meet up to discuss their boundaries and their plans. It ends a bit hotter than either one expected, both physically and emotionally. Logan calls home, Dhanishka meets Olivia, and Lando actually has good advice.

chapter five:

With clear favoritism boosting all of Ferrari's tactics, Dhanishka makes a difficult decision after a crash causes her to see the true colors of her team, social media starts to discuss her mistreatments, and Logan sweeps in to save the day.

chapter six:

Logan and Dhanishka finally have the necessary breakthrough, Olivia delivers some bad news that Dhanishka already has a backup plan for. Logan just has a really good time at the end.

chapter seven:

Logan tries to give the two of short break in Bali. Which does succeed, but then the Canadian GP tears down anything Dhanishka had left to stand on. Good thing she's got Logan, the Norris' and Charles, right?

chapter eight

Dhanishka makes a difficult decision, but after 76 days, finds its hard to stay away from both her boyfriend and the world that raised her. So, she decides to make the comeback no one was expecting--but hoping for.

breaking point:

Dhanishka runs to BWT to find Logan, to kiss his wounds better and cup his face in her hands. What she finds is not her boyfriend, but a scared boy hardened by misplaced anger. Aka a look back to the breakup.

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one fanfiction #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic #ls2 fanfiction #f1 social media au

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hunnidmilly · 1 year

Text

Beg. Sequel to Soap. |r.r|

(a/n) real fast. i wanna say thank you so much for all the love you’ve given me over my last 4 writings. it means the world to me absolutely. milly loves you. <3.

sometimes, it’s just too good to not come back for more. Sequel of Soap. Completely inspired and credited to @itjazzbicch ‘Cheiftess’ Series.

warnings: smut, choking kink, unprotected sex (milly does not support this message. wrap it up.), enemies to…official sneaky links??), face DOWNNN ass UPPP, poor use of present and past tense,

parings: enemy!roman x black!reader

word count: 4.3K…never say i never gave y’all anything.

(tags: @fame-ass-ers @squishyguishy @vebner37 @smuts-whore @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine)

*takes place 2 months after Roman Reigns Vs. Kevin Owens Feud 2021*

“Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Bryan.” You smiled as the camera panned to the man next to you

You’ve known Daniel for a long time now. You were absolutely over the moon at his return to WWE. Behind the scenes, given your friendship with Brie and Nicole, you knew how hard he worked to make it back. It was something you admired about him.

“Y/N! How are you?” He enthusiastically responded to you

“I’m great! How are you doing? How are you feeling ahead of your triple threat match against Roman Reigns and Edge?”

“I’m feeling amazing! Absolutely over the moon! It’s going to be amazi—“

Daniel trailed off as a man appeared next to us. You turned as a certain short, obnoxious, man appeared next to you both.

“Daniel! Y/N! How are you guys doing on this fine evening?” Paul Heyman sarcastically asked

“Paul…hello.” You responded with a lack in your tone

You just knew this was a ‘special’ impromptu visit from Roman. He had his ways like that. Being around even when he wasn’t. It caused you to internally roll your eyes at the sneak attack.

“Did the Tribal Chief know this interview was going to be done?” He asked with a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t report back to you or him; thank you, Paul. Now, Daniel, do you think that on the grandest stage of them all, you can pull off such a performance? You and Roma—“

“The Tribal Chie—“

“Would you like to go back to your Daddy so I can finish my job?” You spat, cutting off Paul. “Wherever you end up, Brock Lesnar's locker room or Roman Reigns.”

“I—I—I have no clue what you are referring to. I do not w-w-work for Brock Lesnar anymore. Ms. Y/N, I am merely just trying to—“

“Thank you, Paul.” You grit your teeth as the cameras cut

You toss a sincere look to Daniel and give him a small side hug before turning to the man who quickly became a nuisance, “Listen. I don’t give a damn! I don’t care if you work for Brock, Roman, or Joe fucking Biden. You do not interrupt my job performance. And I know he sent you here on some possessive shit, trying to get a rise out of me. It’s written all over your fucking face. Move!”

You shove Paul out of your way, leaving him stunned in the middle of the hall. You went quickly to find Roman. Fighting against every nerve in your head telling you to turn around. After that small, impromptu meeting in the showers two months ago, you did all you could to stay away from him. Even not becoming his regular interviewer anymore. The last thing you needed was to be fuckbuddies with the man that Roman Reigns is. You could basically kiss your job goodbye if you knew it.

But, he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. Everytime you turned around, it was like he’d be right there waiting for you. Causing more smart mouthed spats in the middle of the hallway. Anytime you both collided, you both would bicker. You’d think you and him were an old married couple. The majority of it wasn’t an act. Roman did get a rise out of you. He walked the earth with his third leg as if he controlled everyone around him, and they had to kiss the ground he walked on. He was still an asshole. After his initial thought that you’d come begging him for dick, you knew you had to prove him wrong. You didn’t need him. Not for sex…earth shaking sex. No matter how badly you wanted to call him to break you off again.

Your studded black boots clicked on the floor with every determined stride to his locker room. Before you got the chance to bang on it, as intended, it flew open with the 6’3 Samoan smirking down at you.

Roman knew he pissed you off. He knew ever trick in the damn book, on what would make your blood pressure rise. Hell, he wrote the book himself. You weren’t going to admit yourself, how much you wanted him? Fine. But he had plans to make you pay for that shit.

‘Oh, I’ll give him something to smirk about.’

“Who in the hell do you think you fucking are? You got Paul as my bodyguard now?” You snarl into his face, your heels giving you extra height to match him up

“Oh, please. What are you doing interviewing, Bryan? Hm? Answer me that first, baby girl.” He raises an eyebrow

“You have zero authority over me and whoever the hell I interview. You might be asskissing Vince, but your name isn’t anywhere near my checks. You don’t own me!”

“That’s not how I recall the story, Very…very far from it actually. Would you like a reminder?” He dropped his voice an octave deeper and smirked, leaning forward, “Remember, all you have to do is ask.”

“Why don't, instead, you go find where Paul is? We all know how quick he is to drop to his knees with a knife in your back at the reigning! Oh, so defen—”

“You think you're so fucking funny. Huh? I got a joke for you, go tell McIntyre how badly you turn cock drunk when you’re being pounded. How all it takes is for my cock to run over that bundle of nerves inside of you for you to gush down my clock like the whore you are?” Roman grits his teeth with his face mere centimeters from yours; pure agitation on his face at your mention of Brock Lesnar.

The last few weeks, you’ve been cautiously talking to a certain 6’5 Scottish man more and more. Drew was amazing. He treated you well—a sweetheart, if you must say. Movie dates, dinner dates, makeout sessions. Although you’d been holding out on him. Many times Drew slid his hand under your shirt, or would squeeze your backside. You’d always pull away and call it a night. Drew was attractive. Three months ago, you’d allow him a taste of you. Hell why not? He was attractive, strong, tall. But two months ago, you had sex with Roman. Absently, closing you off for any other guy. Admit it or not, it was amazing.

More than once, you’d catch yourself taking a warm, vanilla scented bubble bath, sliding your hand over your stomach, and heading down south…

You circled that small bundle of nerves before moving lower and sliding a finger in. Instinctively, your pussy welcomed your small finger and clenched around it. You threw your head back and sinked lower into the bathtub. Imagining it was Roman behind you, playing with your pussy. Your moans echoed into the bathroom as you worked yourself. Even while Roman wasn’t here, you could hear his voice in the back of your head. Coaxing you, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Slide in one more, babygirl…make her wetter for me.” He whispers into your mind.

“Romannnn!” You cry out in a whine as your orgasm squirts into the palm of your hand.

Your eyes opened as your chest raised up and down heavily.

Those nights happened more than once. You knew you were deeply involved with Roman. More than you wanted.

The mixed emotions weren’t helping. Roman tapped dance on the last nerve in your body. All over it, with a full dance routine. Why did you want him so badly, again?

“How about I have that same conversation with Paul? You and him spend an awful lot of time locked inside that room. Do me a favor, Roman. Stay the hell away from me, and for once, look in a mirror. I don’t give a damn about what titles you have or how many you have. You’re still a whiny ass crybaby. Bite me.” With that, you exhaled a sigh and turned on your heels to walk away with a small movement in your hips. You knew his gaze would be on your backside as you walked away

You’d be lying if you said the thought of calling him for another satisfied fuck didn’t occur to you. Every night when you laid awake using different toys or your hands, you threatened to grab your phone to call him. But you couldn’t. He’d have the upper hand. He’d know the control he possessed over your body. And damn, he had that hold on you good.

You straddled Drew’s waist as you both engaged into a heated make out session. Your tongue sliding back and forth against his as you both let out small groans and moans. What started as being in his hotel room watching a movie turned into becoming distracted by the soft kisses Drew placed on your neck. He makes a low growl sound from the middle of his chest as your fingers slide into his hair

“You're so beautiful, you know that?” Drew mumbles against your lips as his hands glides over your ass and hips, adoring the feeling of how big and round it felt in your hands.

You felt his hands slide over the front of your jeans, fingering with the button there, causing you to draw away from him, “I think we should call it a night. It’s getting late. And you know how Vince feels about being late.” You joke breathlessly at a dazed and confused Drew. You quickly stand to fix your clothes and grab your phone off the table.

“What’s up with you lately?”

You felt your heart sink with a small amount of guilt as you turned around to see Drew’s face adorned with embarrassment.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“You just…don’t seem as into this as I am.”

You felt a slight bit offended at his question. He thought you weren’t into this because of what? You wouldn’t have sex with him? “I have to have sex with you to be into this?”

“C’mon, I’m not fucking stupid. You barely even speak to me at the arenas, anytime we’re alone you keep checking your phone, and all I get is a few pecks and your ready to run for the fuckin’ hills.”

“Look. I don’t want people in my business. What’s the first thing you think people will ask if they see us together?”

“Who's gonna see us? Heyman? You don’t want him to spill to Roman you’re hanging around me?” Drew stands over you, his eyes wide with an evil look behind them. You’d think you were his enemy.

Your eyes nearly bulge out your head at Drew’s mention of Roman. Of course that night in the showers, everyone was gone. No one knew about your rendezvous, “Everyone sees you and him always arguing in the halls. So it’s two things. You’re either scared of him or fucking him.” He snarls

Drew’s face snapped to the side as you raised your hand back and slapped the taste from his mouth. Before you could make another strike you decided it would be best to just leave, throwing a glare at him as you walked past him. You couldn’t really be mad he guessed you slept you Roman. But you belonged to neither man. Drew had no right to insulate he owned you of some sort. If you didn’t want to have sex with him, he didn’t deserve a reason.

You quickly grabbed your things and walked away from Drew, straight out his hotel room. You felt yourself become overwhelmed at the thought of seeing Roman. His suite was on this floor in the far corner of the hall.

What if I knocked?

You brushed off your sexual urges as you headed towards the elevator to go down to your floor. You worked yourself into even deeper trouble. Drew had a few friends around the business and of course, he’d tell them how he couldn’t get you into bed. You could practically hear the “stuck up bitch” being thrown out to you already. Not mixing business with pleasure was now crossed into your new agenda permanently, you even made a mental note to create a tinder account.

You felt pathetic. How could you want someone who treated the rest of the world like shit? He didn’t even say please and thank you. You worked hard at resisting him, but that wall was slowly being bulldozed.

On cue, As you drifted into your own thoughts, the elevator dinged bringing you back into your consciousness. Just your damn luck, the pleasure stepped out the elevator blocking your entry.

“You came to deliver my message to your little boyfriend?” Roman smirks again, feeling accomplished.

Your eyes quickly glance over his body as you notice the black leather jacket, white tank top, black pants, and Jordan’s. You let out a huff as you move to the side to go around him before he steps in the same direction, “What the hell is your problem?” You questioned placing your hands over your hips letting out a sigh

“My problem? What’s yours? Why fight what you and I both know you want?” He asks stepping closer to you, sizing you up

You let out a snort with a roll of your eyes. This man was way too proud of himself. “Don’t boost your ego anymore than it is. Your head might just explode.”

“Fuckin’ admit it. You want me to break you off again. Give into you, but you’re in for a rude awakening. One thing people don’t do is lie to my face. Me and you both know right now, your pussy is dripping into those panties. Begging for me to make her submit to my every will. So do you, don’t you? You want that, don’tchu? To feel my cock stretching you out the way those fingers can’t? We both want it, and you know that. And that little boyfriend of yours? All of you belongs to me. Get that. Do you understand me?” He taunts, his face looming down over yours, his eyes thick with lust.

For the first time, since meeting Roman, you were quiet. You were stunned at his honesty. Your mouth felt dry at the thought of belonging to Roman. As much as you wanted to punch him dead in his jaw, who were you trying to convince? You wanted to feel him inside of you again. What happened in the showers would be just a mere rushed fuck. You wanted him to make you his.

“Now are you done acting like a little ass child? Be an adult and use your words. Tell me you want me, baby girl. Anytime you want some dick, just as-”

As if you were being hypnotized by his words, “I want you.” flew right out your mouth and onto his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to your frame.

You could feel the white light behind your eyes bust, knowing you reached a moment of no return. There was no going back. Roman lowered his hands to your ass, squeezing it tightly, pulling you flush to his body. The kiss was hungry, he was rewarding you for your honesty by biting your bottom lip repeatedly. Your tongue explored his mouth as he slipped his own between your lips. The warm feeling in his chest erupted as his current wildest dream was about to come true.

Once again.

Romans hands slid downwards to the crease of your ass and your thighs, proceeding to lift you up allowing you to wrap your hands around his waist. You briefly wondered if he could hear your heart beating at a rapid pace. Your nerves were all over the place. This time was different. You felt more exposed at admitting you wanted to be his.

Roman opened the door to his suite, walking towards his bedroom. You let out a sequel as he threw you onto the middle of his bed. His eyes were dark and hungry. Before you could have a moment to change your mind, he silenced you with another kiss.

Whatever you were about to say didn’t matter, bitchy remarks or not, was the last thing on his mind. Roman wrapped his hands around your ankle, yanking you down the bed closer to his body.

“Take these off,” He growls out to you, tugging at your pants

With a little aid from yourself, you lift your hips to allow him to pull them off, revealing your hot pink lace underwear. You could see a snarl form on Romans face, remembering how just an hour ago you were with Drew.

Roman kneels onto the bed, covering your body with his as he smashes his lips onto yours. His hand ghosted slowly towards Your warm and wet heat. You parted your legs, slightly, giving his fingers the space they needed to explore your warmth and wetness covered by lace.

“Mmmm,” You sighed into his mouth, as his slipped his hand into the hand of your panties circling your clit

“Shut up.” He grumbles back

He slid his index and middle fingers into your pussy. You felt your breath hitch inside of your throat as he moved his fingers in and out picking up pace. You reached down to grip his wrist, attempting to brace yourself from being overheated with pleasure. Rather quickly, you felt your belly tighten with a small amount of pressure. Roman felt you clamp down on his fingers,

“Let go,” he whispers into your mouth. You began squirming, unable to remain still as pleasure hit your body in waves, nearly consuming you. Your lower half worked against the strokes of his fingers; riding them into oblivion.

“Ahhhh! Oh my God. Please,” You cried out, squeezing your eyelids together.

You briefly closed your eyes, gathering yourself from your clouded thoughts. You felt the bed dip, as Roman stood to his full height. You lay back into your elbows as you watched him undress himself.

“The next time you ever mention Lesnar or McIntyre to my fuckin’ face you’ll regret it. If I ever see you near him again, I’m going to make sure he knows personally who you belong to. You understand?” He grits out lowering his boxers, letting his girthy and long cock spring against his abdomen

You decided to test him a little bit and raise your legs to your chest, closing them, his view of your panty covered pussy now gone. “But I like McIntyre. We were jus—Shit!” You squeal as Roman pounces onto the bed, slapping the side of your plush thigh roughly, marveling at the jiggle it created.

“Y’wanna finish that sentence? You think you’re in charge, but I'm calling the shots tonight. Turn the fuck over.”

Roman growls, not giving you the chance to turn over yourself, and grabs your hips in a grip before flipping you over and pushing you into a deep arch with your face flush into the bed. Roman catches you spreading your legs a bit more causing him to chuckle, “Slide back onto me. You want it so bad, let me see you fuck yourself.”

You let out a moan as you feel the tip of Romans cock make contact with the entrance of your pussy. You push back, with a bit of force till the head of Romans cock makes its way inside your pussy. Getting impatient, Roman grabs your plush hips and pulls out. Letting out an impatient whine, you felt a chill down your spine as he licked a stripe up your pussy. He then surges forward pushing in his entire length in one move.

“Ah!” You gasped “Wait, fuc—“

“Nah, remember all that shit you were saying. You’re taking all of me tonight. Don’t you dare run from me either.”

Roman teased you with slow, deep strokes at first, before speeding up his pace. You turned your head into the mattress letting out screams.

He reached up grabbing your hair into a tight grip, pulling your head up, “Nah, let the whole floor know who’s fucking you right now.”

“You’re so fuckin—“

“Big?” Roman chuckles in a deep voice

“Conceited, Ugh!” You squeal, clawing at the sheets as his big and rough hand cracks on your ass.

“But whose pussy is creaming around me? Yeah? Look at her, swallowing this dick. Her dick. She knows who she belongs to, doesn’t she baby? Talk to me.” He praised, spreading your ass cheeks to watch your wetness coat his cock.

While you could feel your heart swell at the comment, him being yours, it served the same meaning for Roman. It fueled Romans ego more, at the squelching wet noises your pussy was making for him as he fucked you into the mattress.

You only got this way for him. He only got this way for you.

Yeah, you definitely can’t let him go now.

You let out a mewl as his thickness stretched you out, creating both pain and pleasure. That same familiar vein rubbing against your spot, “Ohh! Fuck, yes! I belon–I belong to you! It’s your pussy!” You moaned louder as the headboard began to slam against the walls as he fucked you faster.

You pushed your ass backwards and began throwing your ass back against his hips. Why did you do that?

He chuckled. “You throwing that ass back like a big girl, baby? You gon’ take this dick like one too.” Without waiting for you to respond, he deepened his strokes and picked up his pace.

“Ooh, shit!” You moaned, gripping the comforter. He was so deep in you, that you felt like he was fucking your heart. Feeling the coil in your belly, you clenched your muscles around his cock.

“You wanna show out, huh?” A deep growl escaped his throat. “I got something for your ass.” He announced before really starting to fuck you. I was talking about pulling out and sliding back in, fucking you. Your nails nearly drew rips into the sheets. Your pussy creating a slippery mess, letting him slide back in easily.

“Fuck!” You yelled, blindly reaching behind him to push at his abdomen, to give you a moment to catch your breath.

“What did I say? You’re taking all of me. I told you not to run, baby girl. Don’t act like you can’t take it. What about all that shit at the arena earlier, hm?” he said, grabbing your hands and pinning them against your lower back. He propped his foot up on the bed, and used your bounded arms to bring you against him to meet your thrust.

“Shit, Roman! Fuck! Make me take it!” You cried in pleasure.

There was no way Drew was ever getting a text back, a call back…shit an email. Especially, if he didn’t hear you practically calling out to god as Roman was engraving himself on you.

Roman hissed as he felt your pussy contract, creating a second skin for him. He knew you were close, and he wasn’t far behind himself, “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? My good girl. Cum all over me baby. Let me see it.”

“Mmmm, yesssss!” You moaned, throwing your head towards the ceiling. “Fuck… I’m cumming…Romannnn!” Your orgasm ripped through you—releasing a wave of wet heat all over Roman’s cock.

Roman’s spine shook as he felt your pussy tighten around him, keep him in, as you gushed all over his cock—warm wet heat circling around him. Tears coated your cheeks, as your orgasm ripped through you making your entire body convulse as you babbled incoherent words. Roman let out a roar as his own orgasm rushed to the core, deep and filling up your pussy, mixing your juices together, “Shit! Fuck yeah, baby!” His voice thick and heavy with rasp

You both collapsed on the bed, limbs tangled into each other, and sucking as much air as you could back into your lungs. After a brief moment, Roman raised up from the bed and disappeared into his bathroom. A few seconds later, he came out with a wet towel to clean the both of you off. You bit your lip, as the feeling of the warm towel moving against your pussy came over you.

Roman laid down next to you, his chest heaving up and down, before chucking to himself. His signature smirk coating his face.

“What?”

“Bet your ass knows better than to lie to me now. See what your little stubborn ass act denied you from?” He replies, his big dick attitude back on 10. But hell. He had the big dick to match, so.

“Do you ever get e-fucking-nough of being an asshole?”

“You spent two months running from me, getting on my fuckin’ nerves, makin’ everything 20x harder for me, fucking’ around with my money with those interviews. Whole time you wanted me to make you cum again. Stubborn ass, woman. I gotta say, the resistance act was sexy as hell.” He expresses before pulling you to him, to lay on his chest

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. It wasn’t an act, Tribal Chief.” You roll your eyes at his self centered moment of truth. Some things never change.

“Oh yeah, baby? What was it?” He questions before moving over on top of your sweaty frame

After a brief moment of eye contact, for once and for all you decided to settle it and let him win. Just this once. You raised up to place a more gentle kiss than the one you shared earlier. That was more hungry, sloppy, messy…this one was delicate, soft, tender. You wanted to tell him what you couldn’t say out loud. You pulled back and saw a look of admiration in his eyes.

“You’re mine.” Roman claims with a small smirk

“And you’re mine.” You respond back

“I’m yours.”

*please, leave me some comments, reblogs with funny stuff, and follow for more! i love interacting with u guys! send in any ask u guys have!*

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