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octuscle · 2 months ago

Text

Cholo Life

“First the damned Democrats stole the elections from us and now they are stealing our identity!” Manolo began to roll his eyes. He was familiar with this. When KJ worked himself into a rage, he sounded like a personal disciple of Trump. ‘I mean that they eat the cats in Springfield and the dogs, it's not just an isolated incident, they do it everywhere!’ ‘Kyle…’ Manuel began. KJ gave Manolo a friendly punch on the shoulder. He knew that when Manuel called him “Kyle,” Manolo was angry. “Of course I don't mean you,” said KJ. “You're an American through and through, you're American as peanut butter!” Of course that wasn't true. Manolo was born in Lima, went to school in Lima, and only came to Minnesota with his parents at the age of eight. But his parents had placed great importance on him learning the language quickly, and today Manolo speaks better English than his best friend from school days, KJ.

Kj, on the other hand, was a prime example of a junior at an American college: muscular, bright eyes, fair complexion, of course he played American football, and of course he parroted what Trump said without thinking. Yes, he was damn good-looking, but yes, he was also a real airhead. And even though olu secretly had a crush on KJ, KJ was out of reach for Manolo. You couldn't be more straighter than KJ.

KJ was studying business. With a bit of luck, he would at least get his bachelor's degree. Manolo had already graduated from high school two years before KJ and was about to get his bachelor's degree in biochemistry. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, who ran the research department of a seed company here. KJ, on the other hand, would join his father's trucking company and would alternate between driving trucks on the highways and struggling with the accounting in the office.

“Besides, you yourself admitted that you eat pets. You said that your grandmother serves guinea pigs.” ”Yes, but first of all, my grandmother doesn't steal the guinea pigs from some guys in Ohio, but has her cook buy and prepare them at the market, and secondly, guinea pigs are a delicacy where we come from. We find it rather absurd that you…” “All fake news!” KJ countered. ”Admit that the whole world would be in ruins without the USA. Our culture is simply superior!” There were situations in which Manolo was annoyed at being physically inferior to KJ. There were situations in which he just wanted to smash KJ's face in. It was really crazy that a guy who already classified cartoons as art wanted to lecture him on culture. His abuela had once given him a lucky charm that he always carried in his pocket. In situations like this, squeezing the stone firmly helped him. It drained the anger out of him. But this time was different. The stone became warm. The stone became hot! Manolo let go of it. He reached for the cold coke glass to cool his hand.

“Are you okay, hermano?” KJ asked. Manolo winced. That was the first time KJ had used a Spanish word correctly. ‘Would you order me another tequila? ¡Tengo que mear!’ Manolo looked after his friend. He had never drunk tequila before. KJ was also a feast for the eyes from behind. The torn jeans clung to his firm ass. His shoulders were broad. He was muscular. But not exaggerated. And his patriotic tattoos emphasized his masculinity. Manolo waved at the waitress and ordered two tequilas. He didn't usually drink. But maybe he could stand KJ better today if he was a little drunk.

The tequila arrived before KJ. And when KJ sat down, Manolo was playing with his cell phone. KJ took his tequila glass. “A nuestra salud y amistad, hermano” “A nuestra salud y amistad, KJ” Manolo replied distractedly, picked up the glass and was about to toast. He was frozen for a few seconds. What the hell had happened to Kyle? The smooth cheeks were covered by a hint of a beard. His tattoos had expanded. And now they had a lot more space too. Because KJ's muscles had almost exploded. His slender neck, with the Adam's apple whose movements always made Manolo so horny, had become a bull's neck tattooed all over. “Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost,” KJ said. His English had a slight Spanish accent. And there was a tear tattooed under his one eye. Manolo ordered two more tequilas… Their conversation turned into Spanglish gibberish. And at some point into Spanish. KJ got terribly worked up about the gringos. In doing so, he accidentally knocked his trucker cap off his head. He picked up a bandana and tied it around his head. KJ's gaze became somehow different. While they were talking, he played with his nipples more and more. He looked at Manolo more intensely. Somehow… lustfully? “Tengo que ir al baño otra vez. ¿Y no te gustaría venir conmigo?” KJ stood up. He was a muscleman. His tight-fitting tank top emphasized his muscles even more. With every twitch of the muscles, the tattoos moved, creating a real cartoon. His ass looked phenomenal in the pleated pants. If Manolo had to create a wank fantasy, this is what it would look like. And now the wank fantasy was telling him to follow him to the restrooms. Damn it! KJ looked like a real cholo. And he was a square college student in khakis and a button-down. Manolo hesitated for a moment. And then he followed KJ. KJ? Why “KJ”? I have no idea when the nickname developed. César Jesus should have been called CJ. But some stupid gringo hadn't understood that in elementary school. And so he had eventually become KJ. And the nickname stuck.

KJ was standing at the urinal. Manolo could see from behind that he was about to jerk off. Even though they had known each other since childhood, he had never seen KJ's cock. KJ's father had the typical conglomerate that enterprising wetbacks build. He had a few trucks that he used to transport goods or help with removals, he owned a few cafes, a laundry… And KJ was supposed to take over this small local empire at some point. His parents had always hoped that the friendship with the clever and ambitious Manolo would have a positive effect on KJ. But KJ had always been the type to hang out with the bad boys. And who could blame him? He looked just as brutal and manly as his father.

Manolo stood next to César at the urinal. César pretended not to notice Manolo. His tattooed hand jerked his cock, which was also covered in tattoos. It was a monster that offered almost as much surface area for artistic decoration as Manolo's thin forearm. César pushed up his tank top with his other hand, revealing his granite abs and finally his nipples. He played with his right nipple with his left hand. And Manolo, whose cock was almost as hard as César's muscles, couldn't help but suck on the left nipple. “Siempre supe que detrás de la fachada de empollón se escondía una zorrita,” César moaned. He let go of his nipple and pushed Manolo gently but firmly onto his knees. And Manolo greedily licked the precum from César's gleaming glans. This beast was not the first cock he sucked. But it was the biggest. And its owner was the one he wanted to satisfy more than anyone before. They had been like dissimilar brothers. Now he wanted to be this giant's whore. And César obviously wanted him to be his whore. He enjoyed the blow job and moaned loudly enough to signal to anyone who wanted to use the toilet that it was occupied. Manolo sucked César's cock and jerked his own. Both came almost simultaneously. It was impossible for Manolo to swallow all of César's cum. And his own cum splashed onto his shirt. Exhausted, he fell back. César was breathing heavily, too. “Necesitas una camisa nueva, hermanito,” he said. Manolo certainly couldn't go out like that. César took off Manolo's shirt and wiped his cum-smeared face with it. Then he took off his sweaty tank top. It was a bit difficult because it couldn't be easily pulled over his muscular body. He handed it to Manolo. Of course it was too big. But it felt good. And César would make sure that he would fill it out better soon. Today two men became real cholos.

Pics by @ki-kink

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #race change #ai image #racial tf #cholostyle

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imaginesig · 8 months ago

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The Y/l’s

Logan Sargent x journalist!reader

SMAU

Similar to Allison and Issac Rochelle Kutch, the internet decided that you are not a Sargent, but rather Logan is a Y/l. I imagine this takes place years in the future (Logan isn't 22 and in his rookie season but a little older)

logansargent

Liked by: Alex_albon, daltonsargent, y/nsargent, and 369,298 others

logansargent: I recommend marrying your childhood crush. Y/n, this past year of being your husband has been incredible, every year I get to count as being yours is better than the last. It's always been you -Your husband ❤️

Tagged y/nsargent

y/nsargent from friends to “friends” to dating to married, who wouldn’t thunk it! Love you so much Lo❤️

logansargent love you more ❤️

alex_albon “friends” is crazy

daltonsargent those teen years were something

user1 my standards aren’t high, I just want a man who will openly declare himself mine on main

Williamsracing our fav bride💙

y/nsargent Williams admin 🔛🔝

user2 I cant decide if I love or hate the idea of wrecking the dress at the end of the reception 🫠

oscarpiastri I can’t believe I’ve had to deal with y’all for so long

logansargent do you want compensation or something??

y/nsargent here’s a cookie for your troubles 🍪

user3 "its always been you" SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

y/nsargent

Liked by lilymhe, oscarpiatri, logansargent, and 275,230 others

y/nsargent been making Sargent look good for a whole year 💪💪 Logan, it’s been a fairytale with you!! Thank you for being here for everything and showing me that long distance is worth it❤️

Tagged logansargent

logansargent you make Sargent look damn good baby❤️

y/nsargent 🥰

lilymhe absolutely stunning- one of my favorite days ever!!

y/nsargent best maid of honor ever (even though you showed me up at my own wedding)

lilymhe i couldn’t never show you up (you can get payback at mine promise)

y/nsargent can’t wait!! @/alex_albon tick tick

alex_albon you’re either flirting with her or encouraging a proposal

user1 uugh the wedding collage is such a vibe 😫

user2 literal goals

y/nsargent

Liked by user5, logansargent, user8, and 504,394 others

y/nsargent: the grind>>>

Tagged: no one

user1 full time journalist AND full time wag

user2 what can’t she do

logansargent it don’t stop 💪😎

landonorris ok frat boy

user3 Logan is the real trophy husband here

oscarpiastri real

user4 OSCAR?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??

lilymhe I’m still in awe of your ability to work on a plane

y/nsargent it’s less of my ability to and more of that Coke next to me in the first pic 💀

user5 LMAO

user6 I love how she never misses watching a race

user7 especially bc her schedule is already so crazy

user8 fr she’s constantly flying from one place to another writing for a million companies

user9 She's everything and he's just Ken

logansargent

Liked by landonorris, williamsracing, user12, and 474,393 others

logansargent Podium in my home race for my good luck charm- it'll always be you 🍀🏆

Tagged williamsracing, y/nsargent

y/nsargent when he dedicated his home race to you >>>

landonorris he talks like a frat dude and you talk like you’re chronically on tik tok…

oscarpiastri match made in heaven

y/nsargent I don’t remember inviting this energy into my comment thread

user1 screaming crying throwing up

user2 “my good luck charm” 🤸🏼‍♀️🚊

user3 sleeping on the Highway

user4 toaster bath bomb fr fr

user5 Logan making it on the podium and still bringing up his wife is literal trophy husband behavior

user6 Logan Y/l fr fr

user7 who’s Logan Sargent anyway? Ew

y/nsargent 👀 @/lilymhe

lilymhe well when you bring Taylor into the convo…

Williamsracing on three everyone say thank you y/n

y/nsargent thank you y/n

Alex_albon girlie bffr

user8 why am I crying? no reason just Logan always telling it is or it always will be her

y/nsargent

Liked by lilymhe, user3, user1, and 208,829 others

y/nsargent wreck my plans that’s my man 🇺🇸🦅

Tagged logansargent, Williamsracing

logansargent and what did I do to deserve a T Swift caption??

y/nsargent just by being the trophy husband you are ❤️

logansargent proudly ❤️

user1 y/n always delivers 10/10 Logan content

user2 the emojis💀

lilymhe that pic is literal goals

y/nsargent we're literal goals

lilymhe love you bae

logansargent do we have any defense here

Alex_albon none mate

Y/nsargent with spokeswomen

liked by taylorswift, lilymhe, Serenawilliams, and 960,483 others

y/nsargent: no one is gonna tell you this kid, but I can now. You are gonna have so many sleepless nights, so many long plane rides across the world, so many abandoned relationships, and so so many tears. You're gonna cover more sports games, fashion shows, and political events than you ever thought possible. You will hit the very rock bottom of it all multiple times, but you’ll keep going. Thank God that you did, because now you have multiple awards under your belt as well as your own news provider, @/spokeswomen!

I don't know what the future will look like other than more busy, busy days but thank you to everyone who has supported me on this journey and will continue to 🫶🫶

Tagged: spokeswomen

lilymhe your journey has been so so inspirational to women in all fields! I am so excited that because of you and your connections the world now has another safe space for female based news!! 💖

y/nsargent love you lil!! You are as much as an inspiration to me💖

logansargent I'll be your coffee runner forever if it means shit like this gets done 👏

y/nsargent you're gonna regret saying that user6 we love a supportive husband user7 Mr. Y/l raising standards everywhere

taylorswift such a incredible creation!! So many wonderful stories are gonna be shared and many necessary actions will be kicked started here-- you have a loyal follower

y/nsargent ahh thank you so much!! It is such an honor to read this, especially after all the hype sessions to "The Man" and "Mad Women"

user1 if @/spokeswomen has a hundred followers I'm one, if they have 1 its me, and if they have 0 I'm dead

user2 I love the idea of all women based and written articles on a wide range of topics-- they website/media pages are so aesthetic too😫

user3 so Logan goes vroom vroom for a job while Y/n created an entire news company to share women's voices??

user4 official petition to have their last names changed to Y/l

liked by y/nsargent and lilymhe

user5 live, laugh, love Y/n Y/l

serenawilliams it's people like you who make the world a better place

y/nsargent likewise- you've been one of my biggest inspirations

logansargent

liked by oscarpiastri, Alex_albon, user94, and 573,902 others

logansargent: the setup v.s the view 😍

tagged: y/nsargent

y/nsargent is this a thirst trap for our marriage??

lilymhe you can take the boy away from the frat boy mentality, but you can't take the mentality out of the boy...

user1 men<< women fr fr

y/nsargent Logan Y/l energy

user2 LMAO Y/N 💀

user3 SHE KNOWS

logansargent how does that equate to Kenergy

williamsracing room with a view 🫶

User4 his hands???

User5 foaming at the mouth

User6 what does she use to do her hair? It looks great

Williamsracing

Liked by y/nsargent, user4, logansargent

Williamsracing: the air smells like a podium for Mr. Y/l this weekend‼️

Tagged logansargent

User1 Babe wake up Williams called Logan Y/l

Y/nsargent Williams gets it

Lilymhe the word is spreading

Logansargent I’m still just as confused as in Y/n’s comment section

Y/nsargent don’t worry babe

oscarpiastri it’s your true form

user2 *eagle screech*

user3 the last name was the final factor to becoming the ultimate trophy husband

user4 lmao he's about to ascend

Y/nsargent

Liked by lilymhe, partner1, user4, and 847,280 others

Y/nsargent vacation with the Y/n’s

Tagged Logansargent

Logansargent I feel like I’m losing my manly man cred with this new trend

Alex_albon don’t worry man you can’t lose what you never had

Lilymhe Alex you're one to talk

y/nsargent BAHAHAHAH

user1 not Logan losing his mind over this 😭

User2 “my manly man cred” ROLLING

oscarpiastri he called me to complain about this

User3 not Dalton telling on him

Logansargent if you’ve spent the amount of time I have talking with her abt being a SARGENT and then spend over a year with the name SARGENT you’d be concerned too

Y/nsargent awww lo 🥺

logansargent

Liked by ylnsargent, landonorris, user9, and 736,028 others

Logansargent can’t here y'all up here

Tagged y/nsargent

Y/nsargent get them with the clap back baby!!

Lilymhe we’re rooting for you!!

Logansargent y’all are both assholes

User1 Leia ate

logansargent golden hour goddess

user2 oh to travel to the mountains with my husband and our dog

y/nsargent I'd also like to add Leia has my last name at the vet...

logansargent too bad I don't go to the vet as well

user3 LMAO

user4 we love the middle school comebacks

user5 this entire family has pretty privilege

lilymhe

liked by y/nsargent. alex_albon, logansargent, and 720,208 others

lilymhe dinner with the He's and Y/l's

tagged: y/nsargent, logansargent, Alex_albon

y/nsargent I missed our dinners

lilymhe same!! screw adult life with adult responsibilities

user1 that looks so good

user2 oh to be invited to a dinner with Y/n and Lily

user3 why does that salad look so plain💀

Alex_albon wondeful night darling ❤️ thank you to everyone involved for trusting mine and Logan's cooking

logansargent a very big thank you

user4 he's just building the resume, soon all Y/n will need to do is work and be pretty

logansargent that's the goal

y/nsargent

liked by taylorswift, user9, lilymhe, and 938,238 others

y/nsargent we've hit 1 million followers on @/spokeswomen!! This project has meant so much to me and to see it grow has been unreal!! Thank you to the wonderful group of women who stand beside me and help keep this dream afloat- I love y'all more than words💖

Logan (and Leia), thank you for all the nights you've held me together when I wanted to fall apart and quit this project. You saw the vision that was so much bigger than me. I love you so much ❤️

tagged: spokeswomen, logansargent, partner1, partner2, partner3, partner4

user1 since they adopted Leia she's been in every post of theirs 😭

user2 they're so real for it

partner2 I'm forever in awe of your hard work and how you made a dream your reality!!

logansargent you have always and will always be the one for me, wether or not 7 y/o me knew it. You are such an inspiration to me always. I will always pick you up when you fall, because you've always been the wind beneath me to keep me soaring high ❤️

y/nsargent now I'm crying at work, I love you so much Lo❤️

user3 that office in an introverts nightmare

y/nsargent don't worry! Everyone's preference and comfort was taken into account when designing- we have plenty of support for all kinds of social types. Plus we've all grown close so it feels more casual than cold and business-y

user4 that's so considerate

partner3 she's the best boss ever

partner1 I'm in debt to you everyday for bring me onto this amazing project- I cannot wait to see what the future holds

user5 aww Logan and Leia

Alex_albon top tier dog dad right there

lilymhe when can we get one

Alex_albon with what time?

y/nsargent you're so right, y'all are too busy for a dog. Now a specific diamond ring however...

lilymhe you heard the lady

logansargent

liked by y/nsargent, daltonsargent, landonorris, and 824,202 others

logansargent cheers to 2 whole years of marriage! I never want to imagine a reality where we aren't together- thank you so much for all the support and love. The only girl you could ever come second to is Leia. I promise to forever bring you coffee, make sure you rest, and mostly importantly love you. Its always been you- Mr. Y/l

tagged: Y/nsargent

y/nsargent ALERT THE PUBLIC HE SAID MR. Y/L

user6 "its always been you- Mr. Y/n" I can't handle this rn

user7 Logan finally used Y/l

user8 as much as I hated the wait, this was the best time for him to do it

y/nsargent I love you so much Lo, I'm holding you up to your promises- specially the last one

logansargent yes ma'am

user1 YOURE TELLING ME HER WEDDING RING IS ENGRAVED WITH WHAT HE ALWAYS TOLD/TELLS HER

user2 the childhood friends to lovers trope is truly magical

user3 God it's me again

user4 I just want a man who will openly admit his love, as well as say it's always been me

user5 Y/n just lives in a romance novel

lilymhe my absolute favorites 🫶 many years of happiness and adventures to you three

y/nsargent 🫶

Alex_albon congrats on the big 2!! Love you both

logansargent thank you man

williamsracing we're not crying over the Y/l's, you are🥹

f1 in this house we support the Sargent's/Y/l's

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #Logan sergeant imagine #williams racing #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #Logan sergeant smau #alex albon

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babychavez · 3 days ago

Text

Lucky

You had just gotten back into L.A from being gone to Miami on a press run for your new show. You were of course traveling along with your co-Star Nicholas Alexander Chavez. You guys had grown close over the last few months while shooting and also doing press runs together. Well as time has drug on you two had kinda started to see each other but it was nothing official of course.

"I'm so ready to be home and take a nice long hot bath." You groaned out as you slide your sunglasses over your puffy tired eyes.

"My place is closer why don't you just come stay with me tonight and get some rest." Nicholas suggested as he pulled the driver door shut and started the car.

"No. I know you're tired and need some space. I mean goodness you have been stuck with me on the road for what seems like forever now. Just drop me at my hotel and it'll be fine." You said waving off the idea of his.

Nic looked over at you and raised an eyebrow at the command you had just given him. "Really? Now you wanna act like you wanna be in a hotel room all alone?"

You rolled your eyes at Nic, "oh don't even start that crap with me. You know you're tired of me and ready to be away from me for a bit." You remarked back at him in a super bratty way. Nic looked your way with a mischievous smirk on his face.

"I very much can assure you that I never get tired of being around you. Even if you are in one of your sassy moods, now come here and give me a kiss." Nic exclaimed as he leaned over the center console that was between you two and pushed his lips together waiting for you to meet him the rest of the way. You smiled and shook your head as you pushed yourself up from your seat and leaned forward to make your lips connect with his.

Your heart fluttered when you felt him smile against your lips as you both broke the kiss. "Let's get out of here now." Nic started the car and took off down the road. You watched out the window at the familiar storefronts passing by all the hustle and bustle of people and cars on the streets. You could feel your eyelids get heavy with each street block you passed. You finally saw the road that would lead you on to the freeway and carry you and nic back to his place.

"Take a nap baby, it's gonna be a bit because of the traffic right now. Don't worry I'll keep you safe." Nic told you as he merged on to the highway. You looked at nic and gave him a sleepy smile, as to be telling him okay. Nic reached over and grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. You leaned your head back and slowly drifted off to sleep, knowing you were safe and in the best company.

"Baby we're here." You heard a soft voice say. You opened your eyes and saw the inside of the car illuminated by dim light. You pushed your sunglasses off your eyes and to your surprise the sunny sky that you had fallen asleep to was now dark and starry.

"What in the world is going on?" You asked while rubbing the sleep out of the corners of your eyes. You looked out the front windshield and saw no familiar sights, instead you saw a tall white house that was covered by greenery and 2 tall windows that made it look as if the house had 2 glowing eyes.

"Surprise babe." Nic exclaimed as he opened up the passenger door and extended his hand for you to take as you climbed out the door. You looked up and all the stars were bright on shining and twinkling above. You felt a nice almost cool breeze graze your face and you grabbed ahold of Nic's hand and placed your feet on the ground.

"Where are we Nicholas?" You asked as Nic pulled you away from the car and smiled widely at you. You were caught off guard and shocked to say the less because you never would have never guessed he could pull something like this by you.

"Well we have a few days off from work and meetings and traveling so I thought what a better way to spend it, than a little mini us vacation. Away from the noise of the city, people and most of all anyone knowing where we are. It's just me and you." Explained Nic as he embraced you from behind and laid a soft kiss on the side of your head.

"Aww. When did you plan all of this?" You asked him still shocked by the surprise of it all. Nic smiled and took ahold of your hand as he lead you to the front door of the house.

"Stop asking so many questions and just enjoy yourself and this time away we have. Baby sometimes living in the moment is the best way to live. We don't always have to know all the ins and outs of how something came to be. Just go with your feelings." Said Nic with a soft chuckle as he pulled out his phone and looked at something in it. He then punched a code into the lock on the double doors, he pushed open the doors.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing the lights were dim and candles were lite on top of the island in the kitchen with a lovely spread of finger foods and a chilled bottle of champagne in a metal bucket.

"Nic! This place is beautiful!" You exclaimed as you walked into the house and continued looking around.

"Yeah it came out even better than I had imagined it would." Nic exclaimed as he walked over to the island and popped open the bottle of champagne and poured you each a glass. "I knew I wanted to do something special for you since we have been so busy lately."

"Well this is perfect and you did an excellent job." You smiled and praised Nic as you raised your glass toward him. Nic smiled as he clicked his glass to mine and then we both took a drink. You started around the corner of the island to admire the food laid out in front of you when you noticed red petals on the floor. "Uh Nic what are these for?"

Nic was taking another drink out of his glass when he looked down and noticed the petals as well. "Oh yeah! Come here come here!" He exclaimed full of excitement as he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you behind him toward an open set of French doors.

Once out the doors you saw the sand and heard the waves hitting the beach. You could smell the scent of the ocean in the air and also the faint scent of floral. You looked down and saw more petals laying on the back porch they lead the way down the stairs and across the sand toward what looked to be a hammock on 2 post near the edge of the ocean and a soft glow from 2 lit tiki torches.

"Wanna go with me?" Nic asked as he was already pulling you in that direction down the stairs. You smiled and followed along behind him. But Nic didn't stop at the hammock he pulled you out into the water with him. The waves hit the both of you, soaking your clothes, you let out a giggle as you caught eyes with Nic who was smiling ear to ear. Nic grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. You looked into his eyes and cupped his cheeks in your hands before you pushed your lips to his.

There you 2 were in the middle of the ocean at night holding each other as the waves crashed into the both of you, you two could care less because you were both lost in each other. You felt a warmth travel across your lower back and then slowly up your sides, it was Nic’s hands raises the soaking wet shirt off your body. You broke apart from each others lips as Nic gave your shirt one last tug over your head and tossed it on to shore.

You returned the favor by taking his shirt off and revealed his toned smooth chest, you both were standing there captivated by the moment and the look in each others eyes. Nicholas grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back into him, he held you so gently and yet tightly as never wanting to let you go. You laid your head on his chest and heard the beat of his heart quicken. You gently swayed back and fourth together in the water being held by Nic made it seem like nothing could ever top this moment. You felt Nic rest his chin on the top of your head but just as you settled he pulled back and looked down at you.

“I’ve had something on my mind for awhile now.” Nicholas said softly as he took your cheek into the palm of his hand and pulled your gaze up to his brown sweet eyes.

“Oh yeah what is it?” You asked slightly nervous.

“I never knew someone like you existed until the day you came in the doorway for our 1st table read. The moment I saw you I knew I wanted you. Then as this time has continued on between us, I feel like I’ve known you forever and that I can be myself with you. I feel like I’m here just for you. No one else.” Nicholas groveled as he ran his thumb across your cheek.

You could feel the redness bubbling up on your cheeks, no one has ever made you feel so special and made you so happy as Nic had. “I have never felt this way about someone Nic. I’m so lucky I met you.

Nic’s eyes twinkled and before you knew it, you were swept off your feet and Nicholas crashed his lips back into yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your tongues fought for space in each others mouth.

Nic carried you out of the water and laid you down in the big hammock. You grasped at the top of his pants trying to get them off. But just as you hooked your fingers into the waist of them he pulled away and instead pulled your shorts down and panties all in one swift motion. He tossed them down and then began to pull his pants down himself, you watched as he unleashed his hard cock.

He gave you an almost evil smirk as he pulled you to the edge of the hammock. He teased your wet slit by rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your clit, he smacked your pussy with his cock before thrusting it deep in you.

His cock could be felt in your stomach and made you gasp as you adjusted to it. Nic looked down at you and admired the way you were taking him, he began to slowly move his hips back and forth. You winced as he pushed himself back in each time.

“That’s a good girl. Taking this dick and letting me know how much you’re enjoying it.” Nic said as he bite his bottom lip and tossed his head back and let out a moan into the night sky.

You could tell his pace was increasing and you could feel yourself tightening around his cock with each stroke and the warmth was growing in your stomach. You let your head fall back and enjoyed the noises that were coming from Nic’s mouth, you pulled Nic down closer to your body and intertwined your fingers in his soft brown locks.

You heard the clapping of skin echoing out, Nic popped his head back up so you both made eye contact as he rocked his hips into you harder and harder.

“Ohhhh fuck yes! Fuck me Nic!” You yelled out at him. He pushed himself back up to where he could lay his forehead on yours, your eyes were locked. You could feel the sweat between both of you making you glide easily against each other. You couldn’t hold it back anymore and you let yourself go and got lost in the sweet orgasm as it would overcame your whole body.

“Take this cum baby!” Nic grunted just as he spilled inside of you. You both locked lips as let the moment be.

You laid on Nic chest as he kicked his foot making the hammock swing back and fourth, you both laid there listening to the ocean. Nic was relaxed and happy, he had his eyes closed and a smile on his lips. You and Nic’s fingers were laced with in each others and laid across Nic’s chest, he would wiggle his fingers every now and then to see if you’d response with some form of movement back.

“Thank you so much for planning this, I think this is just what we need.” You exclaimed laying a soft kiss on Nic’s warm skin.

“You deserve this babe. You haven worked your butt off the past few months and you deserve some peace and rest and most of all love.” You were taken back by the last word Nicholas had just spoken. He had never used that word till now toward you. You pop your head off his chest and peered up at him. His eyes were still closed but now the small smile had been replaced with a huge teeth baring smile.

“What did you say?” You questioned him. Nicholas let out a small chuckle and raised his head up to meet your stare.

“You heard me. You deserve to have love and be loved. I love you.” Nic spoke once again. You were overwhelmed by the words but most of all thankful because the feelings he had for you matches up with the ones you had for him.

“I love you too Nicholas.” You exclaimed as you laid a huge kiss on Nic’s lips. You cuddles back into Nic’s chest and closed your eyes and soaked up all of the emotions floating in the air between you two.

You had just opened a new adventure in life and it was very exciting to be venturing into the unknown future with a man as great as Nic. You could feel yourself drifting off with each swing of the hammock, back and forth and back and forth.

“I love you baby girl.” Nic whispered into the wind just as you drifted off to sleep.

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez smut #nicholas chavez fanfiction

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miasmaghoul · 9 months ago

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sooo.. how do we feel about swiss fingering transdew in the passenger seat

"Why me?"

Swiss tilts his head, spinning a heavy set of keys around one finger.

"Why not?"

Dew raises an eyebrow, gestures at the guitar in his lap, the papers spread out on his bed.

"Oh please," Swiss scoffs, pushing himself away from Dew's doorframe and striding into his sunlit room. It's a gorgeous day, early spring, the sweet scent of the rose gardens wafting in on the breeze. "You're tellin' me you'd rather practice than go for a joyride?"

Dew snorts, crossing his ankles and adjusting his beat up old acoustic. It's true that he's been at it for a while now, since just after breakfast, but this solo has been giving him shit and he's determined to nail it before their next group session.

"I don't think taking Sunny and Lus to the grocery store counts as a joyride."

Dew strums out a few chords while Swiss flops into his desk chair, leaning it back onto two legs. It creaks under his weight.

"Maybe not," Swiss concedes, unbothered, "but you could still come keep me company."

"What, the girls not enough for you?"

"They would be," Swiss replies with a shrug. "If they didn't spend every trip making out in the back seat."

Dew snorts at that - Swiss has a point, Sunshine and Cumulus are not ones to keep their hands off each other in any context. Still, he grumbles.

"C'mon, Sparky," Swiss goads, scooting his chair closer so he can rest his elbows on the mattress, propping his chin in one hand and prodding at Dew's knee with the other. "Don't make me beg."

"But I like it when you beg."

Dew throws Swiss a wink, and Swiss reciprocates with his best puppy dog eyes. Big and wet and completely irresistible. Dew sighs, throws up his hands in mock defeat.

"Fine, fine," he grumps, setting his guitar on the bed. "But I'd better get something outta this."

Swiss grins, delighted. Pats Dew on the thigh as he stands, shoving the chair back under the desk.

"I'll tell Lus to buy that spicy jerky you like," he offers, and Dew gives him a little ooh.

"The cheese too," he insists, shuffling to the edge of the mattress and reaching for his boots. "The one with the habaneros."

"Yeah, yeah," Swiss chuckles, heading for the door, "but warn me before you eat it, I'm not sleeping with you on cheese night again. I learned my lesson."

Dew hurls a pillow at him, and Swiss scampers into the hall with a boisterous laugh. The little ghoul works on lacing up his boots, and makes a mental note to never tell Swiss when it's cheese night.

Twenty minutes later they're on the road, and as the breeze blows through his hair Dew wonders why he was so reluctant in the first place.

It's a gorgeous day, sunny and hot, but not enough to need the a/c. They're flying down the highway in Copia's ancient whale of a car, the windows down and a Judas Priest cassette blaring through the speakers; Swiss belts out the chorus to Breaking the Law while Dew taps out a matching rhythm on the outside of his door. In the back, Cumulus provides backing vocals while Sunshine dances in her seat, and Dew can't help the massive grin that splits his face.

It's a 45 minute drive to the nearest grocery store - the one downside to the abbey being so remote - but the trip passes quicker than he expects. They're trundling into the parking lot before Dew knows it, Swiss killing the engine and groaning through a solid stretch. Dew flips down the visor, looks in the tiny mirror and makes a displeased sound at the state of his hair.

"Okay," Cumulus pipes up from the back seat. Dew peers at her in the mirror, not missing the fresh hickey just below her ear. "I have the list, I have our allowance, I have..." she pats at her chest, searching the pockets of her denim vest, "ah, and I have my phone!"

"You got my snacks on that list?" Dew inquires, working at his knotted ends. Cumulus makes an affirmative sound.

"Sure do," she lilts, leaning forward to dangle the paper in his face. "Jerky and cheese, as requested."

"Get some of that chocolate I like too," he mumbles, "the dark stuff, with the salt." He turns his head to give her outstretched hand a quick peck. "Please."

"You got it, sugar," she giggles, tucking the list away. "You two coming with us?"

"No boys allowed," Sunshine and Swiss say in unison, and the lot of them chuckle. It's a known fact that Dew isn't a fan of crowds and that Swiss can't be trusted around free samples, so in the car they will stay.

"Besides," Swiss adds, leaning across the bench seat to throw an arm around Dew's narrow shoulders, "I got good company right here."

He nips at Dew's ear and the little ghoul elbows him in the side, hard enough to make Swiss yelp. It turns into a quick little slap fight, a moment of playful stupidity that Dew will never admit to enjoying as much as he does.

"Play nice, kids," Sunshine chides when they break apart, resting her chin on the back of their seat with a toothy grin. "Or mommy won't bring back any treats!"

"Gross," Dew complains, but settles anyway. Goes back to working the kinks from his golden locks. Sunshine leans over the seat to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek and Dew squawks in protest.

"Aww, but you I thought you loved calling me that!"

Dew shoves her away, suffers through a chorus of snickers while his cheeks go pink, and resolutely avoids looking over as Swiss. The girls get their things together and then they're clambering out of the car; Sunshine glues herself to Cumulus, laces their hands together, and together they stride across the parking lot to the hulking monolith that is the grocery store.

"Mommy, huh?" Swiss pipes up moments later, and Dew groans.

"Shut up," he grouses, giving up on his messy hair and slouching down in his seat. "It's her thing, not mine," Dew lies. "Besides, I've called you worse."

"Can't argue that," Swiss lilts, stretching his arm along the back of the bench seat. "Remember that time you called me Mr. Army?"

Oh, does he, and Dew really doesn't want to think about that right now. Thick fingers tease their way into his tangled hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp.

"You were the one that put me in a schoolgirl outfit," Dew huffs, crossing his legs for reasons totally unrelated to that particular memory. "I can't be held accountable for anything I said."

"I just never thought I'd get anyone but Rain to call me that," Swiss murmurs, a lascivious grin sliding onto his face. Dew looks at him from the corner of his eye, unwilling to lose the pleasant pressure of Swiss' hand in his hair.

"Rain? Really?"

"Oh yeah," Swiss says, converational. His hand moves to cup the back of Dew's neck, and oh is that lovely. "Wanted me to spank his ass raw and tell him what a naughty boy he was while he said it. Poor guy went off against my thigh before I could even get him on my cock," he sighs, wistful. Swiss turns his head, fixes Dew with that vulpine smile. "You were a nice surprise."

The little ghoul rolls his eyes, and really hopes Swiss doesn't notice him squeezing his thighs together. He has nothing further to say on the matter - or, at least, nothing that won't get him into trouble - so he stays silent. Enjoys the way Swiss' thumb rubs the spot just behind his ear while he watches humans mill about the lot. Families and individuals both, with arms full of paper bags holding untold goodies.

For what it's worth, Swiss doesn't keep talking either. He's not quiet, still humming out a tune Dew recognizes but can't quite place, but it's comfortable. The sun's hanging high in the early afternoon sky, a gentle breeze flowing though the still open windows, and Dew would be lying if he said this wasn't a nice way to kill time.

"What's on your mind?" Swiss asks a handful of minutes later, giving his neck a squeeze. "You're never quiet for this long."

"Oh you're one to talk," Dew chuffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't remember the last time you shut up for more than five minutes."

"Pfft, sure you can," Swiss insists, that large hand dipping into the collar of Dew’s t-shirt, callused fingertips drifting over his skin and dragging a soft sigh from his lips. "I'm pretty sure I don't talk that much when you're sitting on my face, spitfire."

Dew scoffs despite the tingle the words force through him, a warm feeling settling into his belly. He turns his head to give Swiss a look, an incredulous eyebrow raised.

"That's the only example you can think of?"

"No," Swiss shrugs, "it's just the one I'm thinkin' of right now." The other ghoul licks his lips in a very intentional way, and that tingle hits again. "I guess deepthroating Mount counts too, but -"

"So the only thing that keeps you from yapping is having someone's junk in your mouth," Dew interrupts, nodding sagely, "noted."

Swiss laughs, loud enough to get the attention of a few people loading their car nearby. Dew shrinks in his seat.

"Like you're complaining."

He shifts in the seat, scooching closer. Dew squints at him, suspicious, but doesn't protest. Not even when Swiss gets close enough for their thighs to touch, for the other ghoul to drape an arm around his neck and let that huge hand rest on his chest. For Dew to soak in his spicy cologne and for Swiss to rest his chin on a bony shoulder.

"Besides," he rumbles, nosing at Dew's temple, "we both know you love my yapping."

"Love is a strong word," Dew mumbles, tilting his head when Swiss nuzzles his neck nonetheless.

"Mm, I don't think so," Swiss hums against his jaw, stubble scratching at his skin in a way that makes Dew's eyelids flutter. "Don't think I missed that little leg squeeze when I was talkin' about Rain, baby."

Dew groans, gives him a little shove. Far from enough to dislodge the other ghoul, more of a nudge than anything else. Token protest. Swiss huffs out a soft laugh, kisses his cheek.

"That's what I thought," he coos, licking at the shell of Dew's ear to draw out a shiver. The hand on his chest finds a nipple through his shirt, and Dew has to bite his lip to keep from making a sound. Curse Swiss for knowing every one of his weak spots. "Can't hide from me, Sparky."

Dew hates that he's right, and hates even more that - even in a place like this - Swiss can get him riled up with so little effort. Dew bounces his leg, takes his lower lip between his teeth while he scans the parking lot. There are people everywhere, but none close enough to see them - a fact Dew is very thankful for when Swiss sucks his earlobe and gives one of his nipple piercings a tug. Any closer and they might hear his moan.

"Fuck," Dew grunts, squirming in his seat, "ugh, you bitch."

"Such language," Swiss taunts, tracing the tip of his tongue along Dew's pulse point. "Lucifer, you're so easy."

Dew growls as best he can, human glamour be damned, and it just makes Swiss laugh again. It's a shame he can't argue - Swiss and Aether are the only ones who have such an effect on him, and they both know it perfectly well.

"Aww, gettin' all hot and bothered already?" Dew tries to shake his head, but Swiss kisses his throat and it doesn't get him very far. "Don't lie, firecracker. I can smell it on you."

Of course he can. He always can. Dew sighs as his eyes slip shut, sagging into the seat as Swiss slowly but surely teases the spots that make him start to sweat. Swiss' other hand lands on his thigh, stroking tight denim until Dew’s legs uncross. He walks two fingers up the inseam of the little ghoul's jeans while he trails wet kisses along his jaw, and Dew really can't help the soft sounds it all wrings from him.

Then that wandering hand sneaks under his shirt, lifts it up to expose his belly, and Dew jolts.

"H-hey, wait," he breathes, fists balled at his sides. His eyes crack open despite the way Swiss continues to work his chest, his throat, his ear. He watches Swiss' talented fingers trace his happy trail, dip into his navel and disappear up his shirt, and when Swiss rubs at his bare nipple Dew has to clap a hand over his mouth to hide his moan. "Shit, Swiss -"

It's muffled by his palm, and Dew's eyes dart around the parking lot as Swiss pulls away. Fixes him with hooded eyes and a crooked smile.

"Hm?" Swiss tugs both piercings at once and Dew shudders. "Something wrong?"

"You - oh - fuck, Swiss some...someone's gonna hear, someone's gonna - nngh - gonna see -"

"So?" The hand under his shirt runs ticklish trails down his belly, makes the muscles there jump. Swiss nibbles at his collarbone and Dew makes an embarrassing gurgling noise. "You like being watched and we both know it."

That may be true, but Dew thinks there's a difference between Mountain spying on him through a crack in the door and being fondled in a public parking lot with the windows down.

Swiss' hand finds his belt then, and Dew throbs.

"Fucker," he bites out as Swiss unbuckles him, other hand still expertly working his chest, and Dew flushes at the dark chuckle Swiss lets out.

"Maybe later," he croons, kissing the hinge of his jaw. "I got other plans for you right now."

Swiss wastes no time it getting his belt out of the way, quick to pop the button and tug down his zipper. Dew's narrow chest is heaving by the time Swiss hooks two fingers into the band of his boxer briefs. The other ghoul gives him a cruel smirk, snaps the band against his skin, and Dew sucks air through his teeth.

"Better keep it down, baby," Swiss speaks against his ear, liquid silk. "If you can, that is."

That hand worms its way into his underwear, slips down between his thighs, and Dew clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks.

"Mm, what's this?" Swiss glides the tip of one finger through his folds and Dew's thighs tense. "So slippery already. Just from this?"

Swiss tweaks his nipple, licks a nasty stripe below his ear, and Dew really has to work not to choke on his own tongue. His fat little dick throbs against Swiss' palm, and Swiss sounds absolutely thrilled about it.

"Oh, someone's excited," he teases, one thick finger prodding at his hole. "It's already tryin' to suck me in," Swiss sing-songs, and the little ghoul's shoulders sag.

Dew whimpers when he pushes the tip inside, clenching around an intrusion that feels far too good for how slight it is. He can't stop looking at everyone wandering the parking lot, trying to stay on high alert for the slightest hint of undue attention but struggling more and more with every passing second. Swiss wriggles that probing digit further inside, up to the second knuckle, and then there's sudden pressure on it front wall that has Dew's back arching off the seat.

"Fuck, fuck," he wheezes, hands flying to whatever he can reach - one paws at Swiss' shirt, the other gripping his forearm. Feeling the muscles shift as Swiss' finger works him open, groaning at the gentle stretch. "Oh you bastard."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart," Swiss breathes, palming his stiff clit, and Dew's breath catches in his throat.

"Can't believe you're - oh shit, oh - fuck, can't believe I'm letting you - ah!"

Dew bites his lips shut as Swiss curls his finger just right, muting his cry and fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back. Clamps his thighs around that massive hand until Swiss chuckles in his ear, swirling that digit and making the little ghoul's eyes cross instead.

"You're so pretty like this," he rumbles, a second finger tracing around the first, spreading slick. "All shy. Makes you even tighter," Swiss tells him, and Dew clamps down even harder. Why is it so good? "Wish I could get you in my lap right now," his breath is so, so hot in Dew's ear. "Get you to sit on my cock and see how quiet you are then."

Dew shivers head to toe, legs spreading at the thought alone, and Swiss leaps at the opportunity. Pulls his first finger out only to slide back in with two, and there's no possible way he could stay silent through that. He turns his head just in time to sink his teeth into Swiss' shoulder, howling his pleasure into cotton and flesh, and Swiss groans right along with him.

"That's more like it," he praises, kissing the top of Dew’s head while he pants and shivers. "Gonna be a quick one, isn't it?"

Dew nods as best he can, moaning into Swiss' shirt when he rubs the heel of his hand in slow circles over his pulsing clit. Doesn't pull back until he's sure he can control himself, gasping when Swiss crooks his fingers but biting back the whine bubbling up in his throat.

"Y-yeah," he admits, thready. He can't be bothered to look out the window anymore, staring only at the bulge Swiss' hand makes in his jeans. "Fuck, just do it, fuckin' make me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Swiss lilts, one last taunt, and then the only sound filling the space around them is the wet squelch of skilled fingers plunging in and out of his tight little body.

It's perfect - the curve of Swiss' digits, the pressure against his sensitive little dick, the way Swiss rubs at that one spot inside that has Dew going boneless against Swiss' side. Huffing hot into his shirt, hair falling into his face and wafting in the breeze still flowing through the open windows. He can't stop grabbing at Swiss - his shirt, his arm, whatever he can reach. Skinny hips rolling against his palm in search of more, more, driving Swiss' fingers as deep as they'll go.

"C-close," he spits far too soon, every inch of him on fire and wound tight as a spring. Swiss gives his closes approximation of his usual purr, and Dew's thighs quiver. "Like...like that, just like that, shit -"

"Yeah?"

The hand still torturing his nipples stills, presses flat to Dew's chest. His fingers feel so perfect Dew can't handle it, on edge and covered in goosebumps.

"Give me a squeeze, baby," Swiss instructs, and Dew does. Clenches hard around those two wonderful digits and Swiss seems to predict the sound it'll drag from him, because the hand on his chest flies to cover Dew's mouth and catch his wail. "Fuck, that's my good boy," Swiss huffs, breathless in a way Dew adores even through his haze of pleasure. The other ghoul holds him close, keeps his mouth covered, and Dew scrabbles at the arm working him. "Now let me feel it cum for me."

Dew loses all sense of rhythm as Swiss curls his fingers one last time, hitting something that puts stars in his eyes and wrenches harsh moans from his throat, and with one perfect roll of Swiss' palm against his clit Dew's gone.

He's drooling against Swiss' palm when he comes down from the highest high, sweaty at his hairline and his cunt still snapping around Swiss' fingers. Holding him inside with the little ghoul rides out the aftershocks, breathing hard through his nose and blinking with one eye at a time. Swiss is muttering all sorts of nonsense into his hair, a litany of praise and wonderment that Dew cannot for the life of him understand but appreciates anyway.

Soon enough sensitivity sets in, and Dew hisses against Swiss' damp palm. Reaches up to peel his hand away with shaky fingers, squirming until Swiss gets the message and pulls out with care. There's a gush of warmth that follows, soaks into his briefs, and Dew heaves a sigh.

"Unholy shit," he slurs, collapsing back into his seat like a mound of jelly. "What the fuck, Swiss."

The other ghoul chuckles, and Dew rolls his neck just in time to watch Swiss pop his messy fingers into his mouth. Listens to Swiss suck them clean and groan at the taste of him.

"What?" He licks slick from his palm, exaggerated passes of his tongue that Dew finds himself fascinated by. "You said you wanted to get something outta this, right?" Dew blinks at him, brows scrunched together as he tried to make his brain work. "Just granting your wish, Sparky."

Swiss gives him a wink, and then he's leaning in for a quick kiss. Just a peck, really, before he's fastening Dew's jeans and putting his belt back into place. Smoothing his hair as best he can before he scoots back behind the wheel, lacing his fingers behind his head. Dew's fully back by the time he's done, very aware of their surroundings once more and ever so glad to see their activities seem to have gone unnoticed.

"Just in time, too," Swiss comments, nodding towards the store. Dew squits against the sun and sees the girls just leaving the building, Sunshine's arms full and Cumulus carrying what looks to be a single bag of chips. They're bumping into each other and giggling, Dew can tell even from across the lot, and his own smile curls into place.

"Damn," he laments, sitting up straighter. "Guess you'll have to wait 'til we get back for your turn, huh?"

He turns to give Swiss a playful wink, and finds Swiss looking...he isn't sure. Smug? Maybe? Hard to say.

"What's your problem?"

"Nothin'," he shrugs, eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Just find it funny that after so long you still don't know what you do to me."

Dew blinks as Swiss reaches over to grab his wrist, guiding to his crotch and -

"Oh no fuckin' way."

"Tell anyone and I won't eat you out for a month," Swiss threatens, but Dew's too busy enjoying the sizeable wet spot beneath his hand to care.

"We're ba-ack!" Cumulus calls once they're in earshot, and Dew gives Swiss a squeeze before he pulls back. Licks at his palm while Sunshine loads up the trunk, just to make the other ghoul suffer a little bit more. The back doors swing open and the girls slide inside. "You boys have fun without us?"

"Oh, Lus," Dew tells her, rifling through the cassettes in the glove box with the tang of Swiss still coating his tongue. "You have no idea."

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #will post to ao3 later since this is like a million words #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #trans dew #swiss/dew #swiss x dew #swissdew #quick warning for mentions of forcedfem amd teacher/student rp but no actual content as such #not rereading before i post so if you see mistakes #no you dont

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vrcconstruction · 11 months ago

Text

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thewritingrowlet · 6 months ago

Text

The Comfort of Home, ft. tripleS Mayu

tags: creampie, daddy kink

author's note: wrote this in one sitting bcs I was so bored

p.s. Nien rough+daddy kink soon

[🐇| 21:49]

Oppa

My love

I miss you

Not coming home yet?

Your phone buzzes as the texts come in. You haven’t been paying attention to the time and didn’t realize that you’ve been working for nearly 14 hours today. This life as a CEO, while fulfilling, is anything but balanced. You’ve found yourself working way longer hours than anyone else at the company, giving every last bit you have to grow this company and bring it to new heights at the risk of losing your personal life. Truth be told, you would be working for a few more hours if not for the texts from your beloved. “Time to call it a day, I guess”, you murmur to yourself before shutting down your computer and grabbing your jacket and keys.

“Mr. CEO”, Mr. Choi, one of the security guards working the night shift, says to you when he sees you coming out of the elevator, “I was wondering if you were staying at the office”. “I got a bit carried away, Mr. Choi. Going home now, though”, you tell him before getting in your car, “see you tomorrow, Mr. Choi”. “Of course, sir. Have a good night and thank you for working hard”, he says, kind as ever. There are reasons as to how he’s managed to stay so long at the company, his kindness to everyone around him is definitely one of them; you yourself find it to be admirable that he’s always so kind and polite, no matter the nonsense life throws at him.

After exchanging pleasantries with Mr. Choi and another security guard, you now find yourself navigating through the near-empty roads. Driving late at night always gives you a sense of comfort and calmness; there are less people on the road and those who are, are more chill since it’s no longer rush hour. You opt for the highway since you want to speed a bit and have your car closer to its real nature—you didn’t buy this 911 GT3 to go 60 km/h; you want to be able to go fast when you feel like it, and tonight is one of those moments since you can’t wait to come home to the lady waiting for you at home.

After around 40 minutes of driving, you find yourself at the last turn before reaching your house. You rev the car a little bit as you’re pulling into the driveway, telling your beloved that you have arrived safely at home after long hours of work. You decide to take a few minutes to breathe and clear your head before heading into the house since you’re never one to bring home the stress from work; “let work stay at the office, bringing it home is rarely a good idea”, your dad told you years ago.

As you get out of the car, you see the front door open and a smiling figure coming out of it. There she is, the beautiful, ever-positive lady that you’re lucky to be engaged to: the one and only Koma Mayu. It’s beyond you how she always manages to be so positive and bright all the time, but you’re unquestionably grateful for it. Her positivity infects you in the best ways possible, especially when stress is squeezing and twisting your balls day in and day out. “Welcome home, my love”, she says as she opens her arms for you. You run up to her and hug her tightly, “congratulations, you’ve made it home again”, your brain tells you. “Sorry for coming home late, baby. Thank you for welcoming me”, you tell her. “Thank you for always working hard for us”, she says before giving you a peck on the lips, “let’s come inside”, she adds, pulling you into the house.

She pulls you to the couch by your arm and makes you sit on it before straddling your lap. “I love you”, she says before going in for a kiss. “Koma Mayu, what did I do to deserve you?”, you say to her, making her look away to hide the pink tint on her cheeks. “Ah, come on, don’t be like that. You know you’re a good person and I love you for that”, she says, her plump cheeks red like tomatoes. “Have you eaten, baby?”, you ask her. “Not yet, I was waiting for you to come home”, she answers. Your heart sinks: you’re almost 5 hours late to come home and lunch was half a day ago, “Mayu must be starving, waiting for your workaholic, selfish ass to come back”, your heart says. “The cook is still in, right? Want to ask her to make something quick?”, you say as you pet her head softly. “No, I sent her home early since she’s worked hard today. Can we get some pizza? I want the usual”, she tells you as she hands you your phone. You quickly browse through the app and order a large cheese and pepperoni pizza with stuffed crusts, her favorite pizza since you two were in university. You’ve learned throughout the years that it is also her way to tell you that she wants to be comforted and taken care of. You, the ever-so-lucky man in life, are always ready to offer your lovely fiancé all the comfort she needs.

Since it’ll take a while before the pizza arrives, you two decide to share a private moment to catch up after work. “Siri-yah”, she yells, “play Only by Lee Hi”. Unsure with the song selection, you ask her, “Baby? Are you okay?”. “I-I want to make sure you know how I feel. Just listen, please”, she says before tucking her head against your chest. Before you managed to say anything, the song starts playing.

Be my only one

이렇게 부르고 싶은 이름 내 곁에 (The name I want to call you by)

손을 잡고서 같이 걸어요 (Let’s hold hands and walk along)

비가 오는 밤에도, 외로웠던 낮에도 (On rainy nights, or on lonely daytimes)

그대 환한 빛깔을 내게 가득 칠해줘요 (Please color me with your shiny light)

내가 더 잘할게요, 이렇게 같이 있어준다면 (I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this)

You feel yourself trembling at the words coming out of the speakers. Mayu loves you so and wants to tell you, despite not having the words for it herself. You’ve never felt so loved before Mayu entered your life and took the space in your heart you didn’t know had been empty. You silently praise whatever higher being is out there for sending you this angel of a woman all those years ago.

Now I believe

라랄라랄라라 부르는 노래 (La la la la la, I sing a song like this)

찾고 찾고 찾아 헤매이던 그대와 (With the one I was desperately looking for)

My, oh my, oh my, oh 내 사랑 (My, oh my, oh my, oh my love)

Be my only love

You hear a small sob coming from the woman in your lap and even a cold heart like yours can’t help but melt away. “I love you, oppa. I love you so much. Please stay with me forever”, she says with shaky voice as tears start falling out of her eyes. You feel tears fall on your cheeks as you’re still wordless at her confession. “Love, why aren’t you saying anything? Please say something”, she says, unsatisfied with your silence. “Mayu, I-I love you so much too. I want to spend the-the rest of my life with you as well, honey”, you tell her. You hope that your words will comfort her, but she just sheds more tears hearing your reply before hugging you tighter. “Thank you, oppa. Let’s stay like this, okay?”, she says. You just want to stay in and be carried by the moment, so you two hug each other tightly as the rest of the song plays out. Once the song ends, she pulls away from the hug. You take this opportunity to wipe her tears and tell her how much you love her and how you want to be with her until the end of times—you’re curious, though: “what’s gotten into you, love? Did something happen?”, you ask her. “Nothing happened, oppa. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you and-and I thought the song would convey my feelings well”, she replies. You kiss her on the forehead to show your appreciation, “thank you, honey, for everything”, you tell her with a loving smile before tucking her against your chest. “You should try singing that yourself, you know I like your singing”, you say, to which Mayu just hums in response.

The doorbell rings after around 15 minutes—the pizza is here. You ask Mayu to get off your lap before going to the door to take the pizza. You put the pizza on the dining table before giving Mayu a piggyback ride to the kitchen so that you two can start eating. The girl is no longer crying, as she excitedly opens the lid, “waaaa, this looks so good! Let’s eat, oppa! Thank you for the meal!”, she exclaims while clapping her hands. You let her take a slice and start eating while you look at her lovingly; the way her lips and cheeks move when she’s munching a slice of pizza is just adorable. “Oppa, why are you looking at me like that? Start eating, will you?”, she says before covering her face with the other hand in embarrassment. “You just look so cute, baby. I just can’t help but stare”, you take a slice and shove it in your mouth, “good as always, hey?” you say to her.

After taking a shower, you join her in bed, hugging her from behind. As you’re drifting to sleep, she turns around and gets on top of you. “Oppa, I’m not sleepy yet”, she tells you. “Okay, what do you have in mind?”, you ask. “Well, I-I wanted to watch TV but I think I have a better idea”, she says, “I’ve been… lonely, you see”, she puts her hands on each side of your face. “Go on”, you say. “I see that you’re so tired, though”, she says, disappointment in her features. “You know I’ve never had a problem keeping up with you, right?”, you say as you massage her butt cheeks. “Say the word and I’m yours”, you encourage her. She leans in and whispers to you, “take me, daddy”.

You two continue eating the pizza while talking to catch up with each other. She tells you everything that she’s done throughout the day with adorable excitement in her voice. You’re so absorbed into her speech; you just stay silent and listen to her every word in adoration. “And, and, I saw this really cute teddy bear at the mall and it reminds me of you. I wanted to buy it but I forgot to bring the card”, she says before pouting cutely. “How did you forget the card? Did I not tell you to put it on the back of your phone?”, you say while letting out a chuckle. “You did, but I forgot to do it. Ahhh I’m so forgetful, oppa”, she complains cutely as she palms her forehead. “We’ll get it when we go there next time, okay?”, you say, “come, let’s get cleaned up and get ready for bed”.

You leave the box on the table before carrying Mayu to the bedroom. You want to take care of her tonight, so you put her on the edge of the bed and change her clothes for her, her cooperativeness makes it easy and quick for you—she is still shy, though, as she puts her hands over her bra-covered breasts when they’re out in the open. You find it adorable that she still gets shy with you even though you’ve been living together all these years.

“Oh, she said the word alright”, your brain tells you. You immediately feel your blood rush to your cock, making it hard instantly and ridding all the exhaustion from today. Work be damned, you’re getting lucky tonight. Truth be told, you’ve been sexually frustrated throughout the week but didn’t ask for sex in case she wasn’t in the mood. However, since she’s made it obvious that she is indeed in the mood, you jump at the opportunity instantly. You pull her in for a passionate kiss to get her warmed up for the action. She’s always been weak to your kiss, as she lets out a soft moan when you pull away. “Oppa, please. I need you, I’ve been longing for you”, she begs. “You’ll have me, baby. Patience, okay?”, you say to her as you switch with her, making her be the one on the bottom. You get off the bed to take off your t-shirt and shorts, earning a lip bite from Mayu. Since you’ve agreed to always practice safe sex, you go to grab a condom from the wardrobe drawer. Once she sees that you’re holding one in your hand, she rushes to you and holds your arm, “can we do it without that, oppa? I’m not in the mood for that”, she tells you, “we’re getting married soon anyway, so please”. “I’m asking this only once: are you sure?”, you ask to make sure she consents. “Yes, I’m sure, daddy”, she replies.

You lie down in bed with your cock pointing to the ceiling, hoping that she would make the first move. She shyly touches your cock and wrap her hand around it, her mind still unsure of what to do. You patiently wait and give her an assuring nod, to which she reacts by putting the tip in her mouth. You gasp at the first contact, which acts as an encouragement for her to put more of your shaft in her mouth. As she moves up and down your shaft, you helplessly let out moans and groans. You lose patience at one point and thrust upwards, making her gag loudly and forcing her to lift her face off your cock. “Oh my God, you’re in my throat”, she says, her hand palming her throat where your cock hit, “you’ve gotten bigger or what”, she adds, feeding your ego. “You can take it, try again”, you command her. So, she does as you say and tries again, slowly but deeply this time. You put a hand on the back of her head and pet her softly with every dip she does, encouraging her to keep going. You’re naughty, though, as you push her head into your crotch, forcing your length to go all the way into her face. “She’s not gagging, wow”, you think to yourself, so you turn up the challenge and hold her still for a few seconds until she rapidly slaps your thighs. Once she comes up for air, you see that spit has run down her face, so you wipe it with your hand to clean it.

Once she has calmed down and regained control of her breathing, you take her hand and put her in your lap. “Oppa, look how deep you’ll go—all the way to my belly button”, she says as she presses your cock against her firm tummy. You groan at the sight, impatient to enter her warm and tight embrace. “Baby, please”, you say to her, your patience running thin. “Please what, oppa? What do you want me to do?”, she says with a chuckle. She sees that your patience is slipping away, so as the ever-understanding girl, she lines up her entrance with your cock before slowly sitting down on it. “Oh my, you’re so big”, she says with an exhale, “you’re stretching me, daddy”. Her grip on you is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time; her tight and warm snatch is hugging and squeezing your cock intensely. “Fuck, how are you always so tight, love?”, you say to her. “That-that’s because I’m the best for you—oh, God, please!”, she yells out. Lust has completely taken over the space in your head, as you thrust upwards into her small frame, making her perky tits bounce in its confinement. Not entirely satisfied with the sight, you reach behind her back and undo the straps to free her tits. Once her bras are hanging on her arms, you start thrusting harder and faster, earning loud moans from your fiancé as her tits bounce freely in the air.

You want to unleash more of your lust, so you pull her down and swap positions with her again. Being on top allows you to deliver deeper and harder thrusts into her. You feel her wrap her legs behind your back as your thrusts hit her deepest spots. “Daddy—oh, fuck—you’re so deep—ah, ah—yes, yes, please, give it to me—fuck me”, she rambles in heat as you feel yourself bottoming out in her. You’re succumbing to your lust as you put a hand over her neck and squeeze, making her grab your arm and gasp in surprise. “Da-daddy, you—“, her words are not coming out due to your hand restricting her airway. You’re not letting up, though, as you keep delivering rough thrusts into her. You see her eyes start rolling to the back of her head, so you decide to take it easier on her and let go of her neck. To your surprise, she immediately screams from the top of her lungs, “DADDY, I’M CUMMING!”. She does just that, and you can feel her juices pushing you out. “While we’re at it”, you think, “might as well make sure she squirts it all out”, so you rub her clit aggressively to make sure she squirts out every last drop, making her scream and thrash around. She’s now whimpering like an exhausted puppy after the big orgasm.

You help her get down from her high by petting her head and pecking her forehead. “Calm down, honey. I’m here, you’re okay”, you softly say to her. “Oh my God, this is what I’ve missed all week”, she says breathlessly, “you’re doing me, alright”. “Are we going again?”, you ask her, looking for an orgasm of your own. “We are”, she says as she opens her legs to welcome you again. You plunge into her one more time, earning a soft moan this time from the woman underneath you. She pulls you close and wraps her legs around you, “I love you, daddy. Give me your all”, she whispers in your ear between moans. You want to hear more of her moans, so you do your best to keep a steady pace of thrusts while hugging her. This position gives you easy access to mark her neck, so you suck, nibble, and kiss it as you plunge in and out of her pussy; “mark me, let everyone know I belong to you”, she encourages you.

You’re not too far away from your orgasm now, as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your cock twitch in her pussy. Mayu knows this, so she says to you, “Come on, love, give me your load—breed me, daddy”. A handful of thrusts later, you release deep in her pussy, groaning and moaning as you do. Mayu, who just received a massive hot load, lets out a high-pitched moan herself. “Stay inside, daddy”, she tells you as she locks her legs around your waist. After making sure that you’ve let everything out, you pull out your cock, making Mayu leak into the bed. Since you’re feeling weak, you can’t help but fall on top of the girl who weighs far less than you. You eventually manage to roll over and lie on your back next to her, though. “Thank you, love. That was exactly what I needed”, she tells you.

You obviously can’t go to sleep all sticky like this, so you gather your strength and carry Mayu to the bathroom for a shower. The shower ends up taking so long because Mayu just won’t stop kissing you at every given opportunity. When that’s all done, she stands in front of the mirror while you dry her body with a towel, “wow, that’s a lot of marks, oppa”, she says, pointing at her neck that has been tinted in bright red thanks to you. “Surely everyone knows who I belong to”, she lets out a chuckle, “I mean, you’ve even put a ring on it, so you know I’m yours”.

When the shower is done, you two head back to the bed to get some sleep, for real this time. Mayu thinks that she needs to tell you how much she loves you, so she does what you suggested earlier: sing the words of Only to you with that angelic voice of hers. “Will you be my only one, oppa?”, she asks you at the end. You give her a loving smile while grabbing her hand and kissing it, “I will always be yours, Miss Koma”, you tell her. “That won’t be my last name for long, will it?”, she laughs at your words, “I can’t wait until we’re married, oppa—until I’m truly yours”, she then comes in for a whisper, “I’ll let you breed me then”. You let out a chuckle at her enthusiasm for breeding kink, “oh, I’ll breed you, alright—you’ll be mine forever”, you say to her. With a smile, she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep, leaving you wondering alone as to where this kink came from. Guess you’ll find out soon.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader smut #male reader

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thef1diary · 4 months ago

Note

For Danny Ric! I'm so exited! Fluff 1, Promt 8. I think a debate over the music playing on the car radio would be great. I love Danny's roadtrip vibes.

Road Trip | D. Ricciardo

prompt: friendly debates that quickly end with them laughing at how ridiculous it was

wc: 700+

masterlist 3k celebration

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You're on a road trip with Daniel, cruising down a scenic highway with the windows rolled down, the wind tousling your hair. Daniel's driving, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. The sky is a perfect blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the road ahead is open and inviting. The landscape rushes by in a blur of greens and browns as he drives a little over the speed limit, the hum of the wind providing a soothing background noise.

"Okay, music," you declare, reaching for your phone.

Daniel raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Wait a second, I'm the one driving. Driver gets to choose music right?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I know you're used to driving alone, but the unwritten rule of road trips is passenger has the aux control."

"Oh really?" he challenges, glancing at you with mock seriousness. "I think the driver needs the tunes to stay focused."

"Yeah, well, the passenger needs to keep the driver entertained," you retort, connecting your phone to the aux.

Daniel lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. "I'm the one doing all the work here, steering us safely to our destination. That means I should choose the songs too."

You cross your arms, feigning stubbornness. "That makes no sense, Danny. I'm the one keeping you company, making sure you don't fall asleep at the wheel."

He scoffs, "with your choice of songs, I will definitely fall asleep at the wheel."

You gasp, holding your phone close to your chest. "I could say the same about your taste. You listen to country music."

"Don't disrespect good ol' tunes, darling. You just want to play that one song on repeat," he stated, glancing at you and flashing a grin.

"It's a great song!" you insist, mirroring his grin.

"Great for making me doze off," he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, you know my playlist is solid. It's got everything we need for a perfect road trip," he adds, slightly squeezing your thigh.

You become too aware of his hand resting on your thigh, and in the heat of your debate, you move it away, earning a frown from him.

"Sure, if we want to turn this into a country-western saga," you retorted, unable to suppress a smile. "Besides, variety is necessary. We can't be stuck listening to the same kind of songs for hours."

Daniel laughs, his hand finding his way back on your thigh as he gives in. "Fine, fine, let's settle this. Name a song that's a must for any road trip."

You both throw out suggestions, each defending your choices with increasing passion. The debate grows more animated as you argue over the best songs to keep you both entertained and awake. Daniel insists on the classics he loves, especially since it's a countryside road trip, while you disagreed, encouraging other artists. Back and forth you banter, poking fun at the other's taste in music, even though it wasn't a serious issue.

Finally, you realize how absurd the argument is and burst out laughing simultaneously.

"This is ridiculous," you manage to say between giggles. "We're debating over who plays the songs."

"Exactly," Daniel agrees, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye that slipped out while laughing. "We're wasting time when we could've been enjoying some good music."

"Alright, how about we compromise?" you suggest, still chuckling. "We alternate between our songs."

"Deal," he agrees, extending a hand for a shake while steering with the other.

You clasp his hand, nodding formally as you seal the agreement. Daniel takes the first pick, choosing a song he enjoys. As the familiar beats fill the car, you cover your ears playfully, but the smile on your face tells him it's all in jest. You both sing along, creating your own little concert on wheels.

When the song ends, you take your turn, choosing a track that's currently your favourite. Daniel groans, having heard the song too many times to count, but he can't resist singing along with you. The rest of the drive is filled with a perfect mix of your favorite songs. Even though you both complain every time the other picks a song, you still sing along to each one, enjoying every moment.

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taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @gxuh @67-angelofthelordme-67 @kigieri @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @namjoonswaifu @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @wobblymug @bokutos-babyowl @chilling-seavey

#di celebrates #thef1diary fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb

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azelmawrites · 1 month ago

Note

ive missed you!! :(( I’m so glad you’re thinking abt hange again— might I suggest cowboy/horse rancher hange

I missed the blog and writing and most importantly everyone who was helping me develop the concepts or giving me new ideas to talk about, I missed y’all even more!!! ALSO Hange as a cowboy has my heart. Y’all know what cowboys do to me but HANGE as a cowboy???!!! I remember before I talked about farmhand Hange and rich daughter which was a great concept but this time I wanna lean more into a slightly cliche concept. City girl with the sweet and kind cowboy.

You’re a modern city girl, you’re a fresh university graduate and still clutching onto your hot degree. Your aunt is in need of company and you’re in a desperate need of a break after the hectic life of the city. At least that’s what Hange’s been told by your aunt on one fine Saturday afternoon.

Your aunt’s been very ecstatic about having you around, Hange couldn’t hear the end of it—not like they were complaining or anything, your aunt is a lovely woman and they were glad that the lonely woman would finally have company and someone to look after her when needed, especially after the night your aunt fell on the way back from the bathroom.

Hange didn’t really have any expectations of you, just that you were some fancy city girl with your cool university degree and your cool city life. It’s not like Hange had any hatred for city folk, but they didn’t particularly have the best experiences with them.

They’re all obnoxious and stuck up. With no manners whatsoever.

It was on a hot Tuesday afternoon that your aunt picked up your call, and she drowned you with questions of worry at you being very late to your supposed arrival time. Hange’s mild curiosity is quenched when your aunt says, “Sweet suffering jesus! You stay right there sweetie, don’t you worry! I will send Hange to fetch you right now!”

Then the woman turns to look at Hange and explains, “her car broke down on the way to town, thankfully she is right by the highway leading here—but bad news is that she barely has signal and no one ever comes to this god forsaken town so no one would be able to rescue her—” she’s hyperventilating and Hange places their two hands on her shoulder and calm her down.

“It’s okay, I will find her and go get her fast.” Hange doesn’t even wait for one more second to hear your aunt crying words of gratitude.

When Hange reaches you in their red beat up ford truck, they were taken back at the sight of you.

You were outside your car, leaning against the hood in your tiny jean shorts and equally tiny white tank top, sunglasses on your eyes and your feet clad in brown cowboy boots. It looked like a textbook outfit that you would find if you looked up what to wear in the countryside.

Except people in town don’t actually wear that, none of the women in town wear things like that.

You push yourself away from your car when you Hange exits their car. They can’t see your eyes, but you smile and introduce yourself. Hange shakes your hand, slightly surprised that someone from the city was actually polite to smile and shake hands and introduce themselves.

This had to be the first time it ever happened to them.

“Thank you for coming all this way to get me,” you say and head to open the driver’s door to pop open the hood as you explain, “I think it just needs water honestly, because it overheated and the ac wasn’t working that well before it stopped.”

When Hange took a quick look, your words were true. It was an issue with the coolant water, and it could’ve been solved in five minutes but they doubt a pretty thing like you knew how a car even works.

They wanted to affirm your theory, but it would mean that they could solve it in less than five minutes and you would drive yourself back to your aunt’s house and some other man would lay their eyes on you and want you immediately, and what’s worse you might want them back too.

So, Hange lied, and they didn’t really feel bad about it. “No, the wire for the radiator is pretty messed up too, we need to tow your car.”

Your face blanched, “really?”

“Really.” Hange affirmed, shutting the hood and seeing the luggage on your back seats, “I’ll just drive you to your aunt myself.”

As you stood by your car, Hange strolled over to your backseat without a word and started grabbing your luggage. You opened your mouth to protest but quickly realized there was no point—they were already stacking your bags into their truck with surprising ease.

“I can help with that, you know,” you said, watching as they lifted your heaviest suitcase like it weighed nothing.

Hange shot you a quick grin, wiping their hands on their jeans. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.” They hoisted the last bag into the truck and shut the door with a thud, brushing their hands off like it was the easiest thing in the world.

You stood there, a little stunned by how effortlessly they’d handled everything. “Well, thanks,” you said, trying not to sound too surprised.

“Not a problem,” Hange replied, sliding into the driver’s seat again. You followed suit, glancing over at them as they started the engine.

As the truck bounced along the uneven road, you adjusted yourself in the seat, trying to get comfortable. “Do you always rescue stranded city girls, or am I just special?” you asked with a smirk, your eyes flicking over to Hange.

Hange shot you a sidelong glance, a grin tugging at the corner of their mouth. “You’re definitely special. Not every day someone shows up in boots that look fresh out of a country music video.”

You laughed, playfully nudging your boot against the dashboard. “Hey, don’t knock the boots. Thought I’d try to blend in, you know, get that whole ‘small town’ vibe going.”

Hange raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You’re blending in real well, I’ll give you that.” There was a teasing glint in their eyes. “But just so you know, no one here actually wears that unless they’re going line dancing. Maybe if you stick around, we can test how well you can hold your own on the dance floor.”

“Line dancing? I think I’ve only done that with auntie when I was like…four or something?” you answered, unsure. You glance at Hange, catching their own eyes set on you.

“Four? How long ago was that?”

“You’re asking for my age? You never ask a lady her age, I thought you country people knew the basics of manners…” you tsk and roll your eyes playfully.

Hange laughs heartily, the sound filling the truck. “Touché. Guess I walked right into that one.” They glance at you again, still grinning. “But if I had to guess, I’d say… twenty-four? You’ve got that ‘fresh grad but still figuring it all out’ look.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back into the seat with a playful grin. “Alright, now it’s my turn. Let me guess… thirty-five?”

Hange nearly choked on their laughter, eyes widening in mock offense. “Thirty-five? Thirty-five?! You’re killing me here.”

You stifled a laugh, holding up your hands. “What? It’s not that bad. Thirty-five is prime, right?”

“Yeah, sure, if you’ve lived in dog years,” Hange shot back, shaking their head, still amused but clearly not letting it go. “I’m thirty four.”

You stifled a laugh, eyes wide. “Wait, is that offensive? It’s not that much older—just a decade or so.”

They huffed dramatically. “I’m thirty-four, not thirty-five, and yes, it kind of is when you’re still technically in your prime.”

You bit your lip, holding back a grin. “Oh, come on! Thirty-four, thirty-five… it’s practically the same thing.”

Hange gave you a side-eye, clearly trying not to laugh. “Not to us thirty-four-year-olds, it isn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in a bit. “Well, you’re not exactly ancient. Plus, with all that wisdom, I’d say it suits you.”

Hange’s playful scowl broke into a grin. “Nice save.”

“Wasn’t trying to save anything,” you teased, “just stating facts.”

They shook their head, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah. Remind me not to invite you to my birthday party though. Next thing I know, you’ll have me hitting forty.”

The car rolls over the pebbles leading to your aunt’s entry, then it stops right before. Hange kills the engine and you just feel the need to say, “thirty five, forty…doesn’t matter, I think you’re sexy anyways.”

Hange’s eyes widened, and they let out a surprised laugh, their cheeks tinged with a faint blush. You smirk, then push the passenger door open and hopping down as your boots let out a satisfying sound as they crush against the stones.

You know Hange’s looking, so you walk with a sway on your hips.

#hanji x fem!reader #hange x fem!reader #hange x reader #azelma yandere hange talk #hange zoe x reader #hange zoe x fem!reader #hanji zoe x reader #hanji zoe x fem!reader #azelmawrites

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theitgirlnetwork · 5 months ago

Text

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve.

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?”

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.”

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands.

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue.

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her.

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-”

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles.

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for.

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?”

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA.

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while.

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.”

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her.

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.”

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face.

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.”

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too.

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them.

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.”

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them.

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.”

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now.

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time.

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them.

Jealousy. Longing. Needing.

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person.

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath.

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes.

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.”

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.”

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?”

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him.

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head.

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat.

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side.

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.”

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima.

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood.

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty.

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely.

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor. “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.”

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.”

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life.

The Paris Opera Ballet

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

Text

ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

MODERN! EDDIE x FEM! READER

MODERN! KING! STEVE x FEM READER

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

summary: taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.

warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol use, drug use, drug mention, kinda sadboy! Eddie, king Steve being king Steve, modern times so things such as google and Snapchat are mentioned. no use of y/n, reader has a nickname, pet name usage.

The blazing swell of the late September sun had been pelting down on you all day. Stuffed right between your best friend Eddie and his best friend Steve, the humid Midwest air trickled through the open windows in a hazy wave of oven door heat.

Between Steve’s hair-brained idea of driving to Indianapolis for tickets to the annual Irvington Halloween Festival and Eddie’s even more ridiculous idea of taking Wayne’s single cab truck, without A/C to make the 4 hour round trip drive— it was no surprise when the clunking metal of the brown ‘86 Chevy spluttered to a grinding stop alongside the highway.

100 miles from Hawkins, and nothing but pent up anger boiling at the surface to keep you all company.

“Oh this is just great Munson,” Steve groaned, swinging open his door and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. A ring of sweat set deep in the Hawkins athletic shirt he was wearing, a heavy hand pushing his hair from his face, “dude, let’s take the truck!” he mocks the long haired metal head, “fuckin’ told you this would happen!”

The boys weren’t exactly getting along for the entirety of this trip. Eddie and you had made plans to decorate your apartment tonight for Halloween, a month too early just like you did every year, a night full of themed snacks and cheesy 80s horror movies, the perfect opportunity to finally make his move.

But when Steve showed up at the light blue trailer looking for his wingman to help him score at Hargrove’s party— he was less than impressed to find you peeking around Eddie’s outstretched arm holding open the door, a shit-eating grin on your face. Even more pissed when Eddie told him that you would be tagging along. A roll of his eyes and a scoff on his lips as he pounded down the concrete steps.

Steve wasn’t your favorite and you definitely weren’t his. He didn’t get the appeal.. Always too loud, too annoying, acting like one of the boys when clearly you were just too insecure to have any friends that were girls.

As he stomped through the dead grass he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that you turned him down freshman year, never mind that it was six years ago and Steve had plenty of girls added to his belt, his snap score and drawer full of stolen panties proved it. Never mind that his bruised ego from that night at a bonfire in the woods pushed him into his King Steve era. He flicked a cigarette into the dirt, muttering under his breath.

“Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie gripes as he shoves the gear shift into neutral, he lowers down to his left and pulls the hood jack towards him. “It’ll be an easy fix.” He says to you, his breath fanning your sweaty cheek as he shoves open the door and jumps out, boots crunching along the gravel as he pushes the hood open.

To be fair, Wayne’s truck had about a 50/50 chance of making the trek to Indianapolis, but Eddie had wanted to take it for a few reasons, and not one of them was for a trip down memory lane like he had told Steve.

The first reason he wanted to drive the truck opposed to Steve’s BMW, was lol was because it was a stick shift. An opportunity to let him float the gears and have his veins pop out that he knew was a panty wetter for most girls, he had only hoped you fit into that category.

The second reason was simple: there was no air conditioning, meaning the small tank top you were wearing would undoubtedly become very hot, and maybe… just maybe you would think of taking it off to cool down.

And finally the third reason mimicked the first… you would be sitting bitch in the middle, and with each shift between gears, his arm would be sliding around the soft plains of your luscious thighs. The same thighs that were bare besides a high waisted pair of cut off shorts that had his mind flipping the perv meter to dangerous levels when you hopped off your bike this morning.

Greeting him with the same smile that cooked his brain to mush for years.

Only today— you were starting to flirt back with him, pushing your ass out and bending at the waist just to untie your shoes. Even though in the history of forever, you had never once taken off your worn converse in the Munson trailer. You also were wearing a tank top, accentuating your curves, and Eddie was ready to chew a hole in the makeshift drywall of his trailer when you bounced up the steps to greet him.

Usually you hid your body with a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans, your fuck-off attitude is what earned you the right to have Eddie as a friend in the first place.

Tonight he was going to push the limits, share a joint with you when the yellow harvest sun dipped low into the indigo trees, kiss your ear with chapped lips while he held you when the movie had a jump scare… he had a plan. And Steve ‘cockblock’ Harrington was being the worst wingman of all time.

Sliding out of Eddie’s door, the Navajo rug blanket snags against the cracked leather of the worn seat. The back of your knees were sticky and shiny with sweat, same as your cleavage, not a single stitch of wind to be found along the gravel road— unless you counted Steve’s annoyed huffs.

—

Steve bitched and moaned the entire time Eddie was bent over the truck. Investigating what had gone wrong, “aren’t you supposed to be some sorta mechanic?” He grumbled, pushing his hair from his forehead, slotting his hands back into place around the Levi’s on his athletic hips, “swear to God if you make me miss this party, and what Lily has been teasing me with on snap,” his eyes roll into the back of his head at the thought of it, almost letting out a desperate whine.. “I’ll shoot you dead Munson.”

“Take it easy Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his jaw tensed and an irritated tone on his lips. His brows turned inward in concentration as he twisted a wrench with strong grease covered hands from behind the hood, “just need’t.. fuck.” Dark smoke started billowing out around him.

His foul mouth spewed a string of words that barely made any sense, ending his fit with a slam of the hood and his wrench thrown into the ditch.

You walk pointed nails across his sweat covered bare back easing his bruised ego with a sickly sweet voice, “it’s okay,” you preen, pushing your chest into his side when he wiggles from your tickling fingers, his dark eyes swirling into calm and the huff from his breath lost in his throat, “I’ll just call AAA.”

AAA did not service in your area, and according to google— the nearest gas station was twenty miles away, a podunk hole in the wall that sold newspapers for a quarter and had 1 star reviews.

“Fuck,” Eddie shouted, kicking the tires and hiding the burn of ache traveling up his leg, “the hell are we gonna do now?”

“Guess we’re fucking stranded! Great idea Munson, gonna die by the inbred hands of the family from The Hills Have Eyes, but god we just had to take this piece of shit!.” Steve spit as he flopped back into the bed of the truck.

Eddie pointed a greased finger into Steve’s chest, “you,” he said prodding with emphasize, “were the one who didn’t want to buy them online, oh God Eddie let’s just get out of Hawkins for the day, make Lily sweat a little bit, make her think I have a bitch in Indy..”

“Fuck off,” Steve said shoving Eddie’s hand away, sitting up, casting a stank eye in your direction, voice laced in venom, “at least my dick is getting w—”

A pack of cards hits Steve right in the chest, hard and knocking the insult from his lungs.

It was your idea.

The slick pack of cards in the glove box with paisley red design on the front was sure to lend some relief and make time pass between now and when Robin would be on the way, driving Steve’s BMW with white knuckles and the radio off no doubt. You had texted her when the boys were arguing, explaining the situation and promising her a small white baggy from Eddie’s stash when you got back.

“great idea,” Steve accuses, “s’ gonna take at least 2 hours to get here,” his hands fly in the air in defeat as he yells, “she’s failed her drivers test four fuckin’ times because she drives like my grandma, and that old bag has been dead for years!”

“Cool it, you didn’t have any other ideas besides whining Steve,” Eddie defends, fingers wrapped around the neck of a foggy glass bottle filled with amber liquor, he hands it to you in a slick move of his wrist bending and presenting both a blunt and the bottle like a flower blooming in his open palm, “might as well relax a little s Sswhile we wait, make it worth our while.”

The liquor went down with a burn, hotter than the pinked shoulders of Eddie’s sunburnt skin. And the small band of splotchy salmon across Steve’s nose.

Eddie wrestled a dusty moth bitten blanket from behind the seat, and spread it on the bed of the truck. Before you could push your ass up onto the tailgate, he had wrapped his hands tight along your hips and hoisted you up. A grip so tight he didn’t want to let go, your body feeling just right in his palms, and you were feeling it too.

As the liquor bottle got lighter and lighter, the tension eased, Steve was actually laughing at Eddie’s jokes and wasn’t rolling his eyes as much when he had to give you a card or when Eddie praised you for winning again.

When Steve threw his cards on the blanket and twisted his arms in a pout at losing another round of Go Fish, it was his idea to play another game.

“It’s real easy,” he explained around a puff of smoke as he shuffled the cards back into the pack with his large tanned hands, a single bead of sweat sloping down from his temple and curling around his chin. “You hold up five fingers, and if you’ve never done what one of us says, you keep a finger up, but if you have… you put a finger down and take a sh—- hey dickhead!”

Eddie’s lips turn sinister around the glass bottle as rogue drops of Crown dribble from his chin. “Ooops,” he says coyly, eyes bigger than Betty Boop’s and already feeling the combined high and drunken stupor take over his body, “were you needing this?”

Dragging a hand down his face, Steve sighs, “yeah it’s kinda the whole point of the game, fucker,”

“Hey…” Eddie whines, “be nice Stephanie.”

With another ten minutes of arguing about Eddie being a jackass and Steve being crabby in hot weather, you all agree to play the game, the loser has to finish the bottle and strip off an item of clothing.

“Okay so let’s start this easy,” Steve explained, “never have I ever been arrested.”

Eddie puts a finger down and scowls, “good one Harrington,” he adjusts his legs and leans back against the frame of the truck, “just because you got away doesn’t mean your ass wasn’t just as guilty as mine.”

“Shoulda ran faster,”

The boys make annoyed faces at each other and it’s Eddie’s turn, “never have I ever… nope I’ve done that… never have I.. shit.. okay pass! I gotta think.”

“Your turn,” he says, passing you the bottle of almost empty liquor.

“Okay, Uhh..” you hold the bottle with both hands and gently peel back the label with your fingernail, rubbing the sticky residue between your fingers, you rack your brain for something that would get them both, “never have I ever… peed standing up.”

The boys roll their eyes, and each put a finger down, “cheap shot,” Steve whines, and glowers when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Oh I got one!” Eddie says rubbing his hands together, splaying a wicked grin on his face, “never have I ever, socked Billy Hargrove in the face.”

You push Eddie’s shoulder and slap his chest playfully, as he laughs like a hyena, “he deserved it!”

Steve chokes on his inhale of the passed blunt, “that was you?!”

“Fuck yeah it was!” Eddie says proudly, “that’s why she’s banned from the pool.”

Laughing at the now funny memory of Billy slapping your ass as you walked by him in your swimsuit.

The way Eddie’s fist felt in your hands as you shoved it down, the rage in his eyes as he was ready to beat the bricks off of Billy.

The sick twist of his mustache when it formed a grin knowing that Eddie was on his last strike with Hopper and couldn’t defend you.

And the satisfying crack of his molars splintering in his gum line when you knocked your fist into his jaw.

The pain and swollen fingers were worth it.

“And I’d do it again,” you say lowering a finger and taking a swig from the bottle, the burn of the liquor barely there now.

Steve laughs, a new sense of almost admiration, as he looks at you with his hair in his face, grabbing the joint from Eddie’s fingers and holding it firm between his teeth, “my turn,” he says clearing his throat, “uh..never have I ever… kissed Eddie.”

You and Eddie look at eachother and giggle awkwardly around the cloud of dense smoke, but your fingers never budge.

“Seriously?” Steve says incredulously, looking from you to Eddie and back to Eddie and then you again, “can’t lie in this game, dude.”

Eddie had come close to kissing you on a few occasions. Once in high school at Steve’s party after winning the beer pong tournament, he looked at you the way someone would a lover, wetting his lips and looking at your mouth, but in the end he gave you a bone crushing hug and twirled you around the room.

Another time during the 4th of July fireworks last year when you had both smoked two bowls from the pretty pipe he gifted you earlier that year on your birthday.

The air was warm, just like today, and you leaned your back into his front as you laid lazily on the roof of his van. He was singing a song you were too high to comprehend and when you turned your head into his shoulder and looked up at him.

His fingers wrapped around a lock of your hair and you hummed in approval. Snuggling further into him. And the next thing you knew it was nearly dawn and you had fallen asleep.

It just never seemed like the right time.

“So who’s turn is it?” Eddie said clearing his throat.

“Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no!” Steve said leaning further into the circle, clearly interested to know what’s going on, “we aren’t just gonna skate past this.”

“Drop it, Steve,” Eddie said all too fast, his boots stretching out to kick at his thigh.

The bottle in your hands is suddenly heavy and you set it down with a clunk on the bed of the truck. And you pick hastily at your nails, avoiding two sets of brown eyes.

“Fuck it,” Steve says, tongue dancing around his mouth trying to stop a smirk, “I dare you to kiss her.”

You're certain your heart stops beating.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs. Running his hand on the back of his neck, his open cut off flannel shirt showing off his tattooed chest.

“Y-you don’t have to Eddie, it’s okay…” you say trying to brush the tension off, not noticing the way his hands are fiddling with the ends of his shirt and how his eyes haven’t left you, “but I dare you to.”

It could have been the combined high. It could have been the fact that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eddie since you parked your bike against his trailer this morning.

He was always good looking, in that goofy best friend kind of way. And although your friendship was never normal, Eddie’s hands always searing through your skin like grill marks on a hotdog, it never crossed the boundary into something more. And you’d be lying if you weren’t curious about how his lips would taste.

That was all the convincing Eddie needed before he pushed himself up in a fluid motion, balancing on his knees, and leaning back with a second guess, but it’s you who leans up on your knees too, meeting him halfway.

His dark curls swing around your face as he gets impossibly closer. “You sure?” he asks, working a finger under the tip of your chin.

And your surprised when your nod is followed by soft lips, slipping against yours.

He tasted like the liquor you’ve been drinking and matches. Musky, and woodsy. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip and catches into the corner of his mouth, the brine of sweat on your tongue has you whining into his mouth and he swallows your noises with glee.

He shudders when you pull him closer, fingers hooked into the fabric of his shirt. His eager hands holding your face, lips smacking against yours, and for the first time today, it’s not the heat that has your panties wet.

Kissing Eddie is like finding money in your jeans after they go through the dryer. It’s easy, and slow, and so fucking good.

Seconds, minutes, days? go by before Steve clears his throat and mutters an ahem!

Eddie finished the kiss by nudging is nose down the apple of your cheeks and kissing behind your ear.

“Fuck…” is all Steve can muster and you bite your lip and sit back down, lips still buzzing with Eddie’s spit still on them.

Eddie is smiling and looking at you, eyes drunk on lust.

“I— uh, yeah, it’s my turn I guess, ” straightening your back and crossing your legs in a pretzel, you know damn well you’d get at least one finger down from Steve. “Never have I ever… kissed Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve rolls his eyes and puts a finger down, and when a long finger covered in grease despite the many wipes against denim jeans also disappears into a fist… a sloppy grin lines Eddie’s mouth as Steve looks like he might throw up.

“Are you fuckin’ serious man?”

Eddie explains to a butthurt Steve, “let me explain, fuck— it was like a hundred years ago, after junior year, she kissed me!”

It was true.

Nancy went to Eddie to buy some “forget-‘ems” (Eddie’s coined word for ecstasy) after Jonathan left her for the pretty long haired new boy from California. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone while she took the white pill. Drug use being foreign to her entirely.

Eddie? She had asked kindly, unsure about herself for the first time. Take it with me?

His long curls bounced as he nodded his head, taking one of the pills from her dainty hands and placing it between his teeth. Tipping his head back with a quick jerk and a rough swallow, hoping it looked cool, he looked into her blue eyes and gave her a grin.

It was strange, having the preppy Nancy Wheeler in his trailer with her proper fitting cardigan and light wash skinny jeans.

He could tell she was uncomfortable, the normal glow of her skin was lost behind shallow cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, pressed tight with setting powder to try and hide it.

maybe she should have had a smaller dose, being that her small frame had never dealt with drugs before. And right when Eddie’s high took over, Nancy Wheeler had started to feel it too.

She ran around the trailer giggling and feeling the rough edges of the peeling wallpaper. She did flips on Eddie’s bed and spilled cereal all over the kitchen, laughing with dark wide pupil filled eyes. Completely rolling.

The high lasted longer than Eddie had thought it would, and she started to cry when thinking about her mom, crying harder when she asked Eddie about his. Forgetting she was gone.

She took it a step further by kissing Eddie square on the mouth, wet cheeks and harsh lips pressed to his before he could pull away. And immediately after, Nancy threw up all over his lap.

Ending the high and the four hour sudden friendship they had gained.

Eddie had told you the story one night when he got too drunk, making you swear to secrecy the next morning that you’d never tell a soul, and you hadn’t. Keeping the pinky promise with your friend all the way to your grave— if he hadn’t just spilled it all to Steve.

“See,” you say to try to smooth things over, voice calm and cool through your own high, “no harm no foul, Stevieee,” you chirped, hiding a small giggle behind bit lips.

“Really?” Steve spit, flustered and a bit bold trying to mask his hurt with venom. Tongue pressing deep into his cheek and his dark eyes locked on your own, hands tapping onto his bent knees, “then maybe we should even the score, huh?”

Eddie blows a ring of smoke into the air, following its lazy descent into the dense humid sky. “You wanna kiss Chrissy?” He looks at you with a quizzical expression, laughing at your stunned face, not understanding what Steve is getting at, “be my fucking guest, dude.”

“No,” Steve says firmly, not breaking eye contact with you, dark knives of fury peel back each layer of skin, “her.”

Eddie says your name in disbelief, and you’re stunned to your core, realizing the air was suddenly much stickier and hotter than before.

He sits up straight and leans over the discarded card game, pointing at Steve, eyes narrowed in on him, “you don’t even like her.”

“Sure I do,” Steve lies, sniffing loudly, his wicked eyes glance towards Eddie and he licks his lips when he turns his head back to you, eyeing you up and down, as he leans back on his palms, “don’t I, Taffy?”

Eddie’s nickname he had given you when you were kids for love of the cavity inducing candy, felt wrong falling from Steve’s mouth, especially in the grim sentiment it was said in.

Of course he was referring to the way he had approached you at that party at the lake all those years ago.

You could still smell his Acqua Di Gio cologne, the way the sun highlighted his hair that summer, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the warm beer on his breath.

You make a face in disgust towards him, “I’m not kissing you, Harrington.” Crossing your arms in finality as if your words held enough power to command an entire kingdom.

Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder, “what the fuck man,” mixed pleasure of pain and concern painting his face, “don’t be weird.”

Steve knew how much Eddie liked you, having spent many nights on the roof of his practically abandoned home listening to Eddie through FaceTime over analyzing how to make his move.

“‘m not,” he says with a shrug, long fingers tapping against the metal of the truck bed behind him, legs stretched out so the tops of his air forces skim your bent knees, eyeing what he wanted, you.

“just trying to get even,” Steve said nonchalantly.

“She’s not gonna kiss you,” Eddie said, shaking his head and throwing his hands around, hurt lacing his voice, “give it up.”

Steve wiggled the toe of his sneaker against your knee, shooting you a wink, “not until she does.”

It’s not as if the question hadn’t crossed your mind. It had more times than you’d like to admit. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington?

“Dude! She doesn’t wanna do it. Fucking leave her alone.” Eddie’s voice was loud and on the cusp of breaking as he pleaded with his friend.

What would have happened if you fell for his charm instead of turning him down? He was definitely sweet back then, taking your hand in his and guiding you along the rough terrain of the woods.

“Let her speak for herself!”

Eddie’s eyes fall to yours in desperation, his heart aching for you to tell Steve off, “c’mon, tell him, Taffy.”

Pressing your eyes shut tight you can feel Eddie’s hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to remind you that he’s there.

“One.”

“What?”

“What!”

“Just one kiss, then you need to shut up, got it?”

“Taff, you don’t have to do this, we can— we can just get home and I’ll pay him or something.” He’s desperate, willing to do whatever it took to not have this happen.

“It’s okay, Eddie, what’s one stupid kiss gonna hurt?”

You don’t hear the way he groans and throws himself back against the side of the truck, pinching the corner of his eyes between his fingers trying to ignore Steve’s low chuckle and smirk planted on his face.

“C’mon then,” Steve presses, man spreading his legs and patting his lap, “get over here.”

You roll your eyes and push yourself up again, “cocky aren’t ya?”

“all confidence babe,” he says back, licking his lips, and you roll your eyes again before kneeling in front of him.

Eddie groans and kicks at Steve’s leg again.

“Sorry dude, just bro code,” he said to Eddie, “and you,” he says addressing you with a nod, “ready?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He doesn’t move like Eddie, he’s grabby and rough, taking what he wants and not waiting for cues. He bullies his way into your mouth with his tongue, colliding yours with his and massaging it wildly. It wasn’t bad, just completely different than how you were just kissed by Eddie. When his teeth bite the flesh of your lip you yelp in surprise.

You turn your head and Steve’s lips trail down your neck, hungry hands grab at your waist and pull you into his lap. Your eyes are closed but his are open, looking at his friend and moving his hand in a wave to beckon him over.

A second set of hands is on your shoulders and you feel Eddie’s lips against your neck.

“This okay baby?”

His breath is hot and stuttering as you reach up and fist your fingers in his hair, your answer muffled by Steve’s mouth.

You moan their names, and it drives Eddie wild.

Eddie’s hands lower the strap of your tank top scraping your skin with the blunt of his nails. He groans when he sees the absence of a bra strap, diving into your warm skin with a lapping tongue, thrashing slow against your skin, working a strawberry shaped bruise into your skin.

Steve’s hands are already working to pop the button on your jeans, and you whine when you feel his hard cock beneath your leg.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie breathes as you crane your neck to meet his lips, desperate for your lips to connect with his sgain.

His hands fumble on your tank top straps and he groans when his fingers skim over the swell of your tits, you twist his hair in your fingers when his rough hands pinch at your nipples.

Steve takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly, his skin is warm on your bare chest as he licks at your exposed neck and earns another moan from you, causing you to whine into Eddie’s mouth and move your hips against his cock.

You’re all a tangle of bare chests and sweat coated skin. The boys are barely giving you any time to breathe between open mouth kisses and lazy tongues before the other one commands your attention.

“oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers when he works your shorts down, his large fingers find their way into the wet folds of your pussy, “no panties?”

Eddie pulls his mouth from yours to let out a desperate groan as your hands unzip his jeans, “shit, all day and no bra or panties,” his hands caress your cheeks and his thumb slips into your mouth open, which you close around him and moan, “you’re a bad girl, huh?”

“With the tightest little pussy, fuck,” Steve groans as he pushes a finger into your slick walls.

“Mm’mm” you answer them both at once, grabbing needy at Eddie’s cock through his boxer briefs as it flips into your hand, heavy and leaking a pearl of cum from the slit.

Noises of all kinds flood the bed of the truck.

Wet sloshing from you gushing over Steve’s fingers, him coaxing an orgasm from you as quick as he could, determined to hear your pretty mouth hum.

Eddie almost in tears as your mouth devours his length and the head of his cock slides into your throat.

The velvet skin of Eddie’s heavy cock slides in and out of your mouth at a slow speed, a small patch of hair rubs on your nose as you take him deeper.

He’s muttering incoherently and Steve is egging you on. His lips wrapped around your nipples and teeth nipping harshly.

“Jesus Jesus sweetheart, Taff— I’m gonna, don’t want to shit shit shit,” you open your mouth and he slides out on accident as you cum all over Steve’s fingers. Sloppy and wet as he rubs at your clit like a DJ.

“Thas’it,” he encourages, “so fucking wet, pretty little pussy, yeah, you like this? The two of us giving you what you want huh?”

“Yes, Jesus Christ yes!” you’re a blabbing mess, as your high peaks and Eddie spins you away from Steve.

Steve’s jeans are soaked from you and he’s pitching a tent big enough to host a family reunion.

“My turn baby,” Eddie says kissing you sloppy on your lips, “been wantin’ to taste this sweet pussy for years.”

He helps you lay down on the blanket, making a makeshift pillow with the discarded clothes from the three of you.

You’re covered in sweat and more than likely sunburnt in places no one ever should be, but you could care less. Being worshiped by Steve and Eddie had you feeling like the sexiest woman alive, and nothing could compare to the separate high that alone was giving you.

Eddie nudges his nose in the crook where your thighs meet, tongue lapping up the pleasure leftover from Steve. “What’d’ya think Stevie boy? Wanna bet I can make her cry?”

Steve’s busying himself with unthreading his legs from his jeans, his cock in his hand as he strokes it up and down at the sight of you spread out and naked for them.

“You’re on, Munson.”

Eddie’s tongue was tantalizing. Demon-like against your puffy clit and going further into your pussy than any tongue has before, including Robin’s.

His nose pushes up against your clit as he goes deeper, swirling his wicked tongue and slurping your folds into his mouth.

You’re buzzing all over. Vibrating from the intense pleasure. Moaning and yanking Eddie’s hair between your fingers as he moves and licks and darts his tongue.

Pretty whimpers elicit your body and are swallowed by Steve’s lips, as he hungrily works his tongue into your mouth. The swirling and twirling is all too much. Their tongues work like hands on a clock and your second orgasm arrives quick fast and in a hurry. The tears spill from your eyes as your writhe and moan beneath them, clawing every inch of their skin.

Eddie cleans you up with his tongue holding your hips in place as you shake and try to wiggle away from him. Too sensitive as you lay practically lifeless on the bed of the truck.

“Told you,” Eddie says as he sits up, with a sheen of your arousal all over his face. Smiling wide. “I’m just that good.”

Steve sits up and tucks his cock back into his boxers, pushing his hair back from his sweat slicked face, “yeah yeah, whatever…” he says, looking out towards the blue sky and the wavering, heat wave horizon, a stupid grin on his lips, “better get dressed sweet girl.”

“Thought we were just getting started,” you whine as Eddie kisses his way up your body, laying on his back next to you, his finger threaded with yours.

Steve chuckles and points a long finger to the road, “it’ll have to be another time, princess, our ride is almost here.”

I have a part two partly written .. lemme know what you would think of that?

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #steve fanfic #steve x female reader #steve harrington smut

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