#bmw x 2

[sunflowersand-bees]

all my favorite ships have

smalltown boy era

childhood best friends

comphet

bi x gay

sleepovers

be gay do crime

mutual pining

slowburn (i mean at least years of pining, if not more)

significant height difference <3

80s + 90s

bikes

dramatic rain scenes

smart asses

one gets married to dates a woman

they're a matching set

"unrequited" requited love

lose touch for years

delinquent x nerd

[corvid-ghost]

Eric has a type in men ig, it's people's who name starts with J.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt1

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: I know I said that its a whole one shot only but I don't think that I can do it. I have to cut it because there is a lot of history. I hope you all enjoy.

About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine

2005, Circuito de Jerez

The earliest memory that Y/N has of Sebastian Vettel was watching him test the Williams-BMW car.

It was her first time accompanying Mark and she was still grasping some of the key concepts of Formula 1 when Sebastian headed to the car. She watched how he drives and how the team were discussing about how he is a potential driver for the seasons to come.

"You know Seb is just a year older than you" Nico Rosberg, who has been keeping you company for the testing that afternoon, stated.

"Then that will make him the youngest driver if he enters Formula 1"Y/N mused.

Y/N didn't know but she was pretty excited to see him on track. She knew that this Sebastian will change a lot of things in F1 and will probably make history. At the same time, she can't help but be a bit worried since its a dangerous sports. One second you can be living the dream and then the next you find yourself recovering in a hospital room.

Sebastian Vettel gets out of the car and lifts his visor. There was a certain spark in his eyes that Y/N didn't miss out. Its the spark that showcase how much he loved to race.

Y/N didn't miss how her heart skipped a beat.

2006, Istanbul Park

The next time that Y/N sees Sebastian Vettel was during the free practice. He was a Friday driver for BMW-Sauber and he is as impressive as the day she first saw him in Spain.

"That kid just set out the fastest lap" her brother, Mark was shocked by the time set by Sebastian.

"That kid has a name" Y/N stated "and its Sebastian"

"Oh how come you are so informed about this missy?" he wondered

"He drove with you in testing season last year remember" Y/N replied.

The replay on the screen showcases the bold moves that were made by Sebastian. It was like he was driving like he is a man on a mission. If Y/N will bet, there is a lot of teams that will be shortlisting his name to their team.

"What do you think about him?"

"A little bit of reckless, I mean 6 seconds in your formula 1 career and you already have a penalty. There must be some kind of record for that" Mark was referring to the speeding penalty that Sebastian received as soon as he left the garage.

Y/N mumbles a small hmm as she continues to watch how Sebastian moves around the track. She was sure that sooner or later, she might see Sebastian more often.

2007, Albert Park

Fridays aren't too crowded as the Sunday races but still there was a bit of pressure in Sebastian Vettel's shoulder as he entered Albert Park.

He walked the paddocks and tried to visualize himself not just a Friday driver but an actual driver for the Sunday races. He pictures the screaming crowd chanting his name, the smell of burning rubber, radio messages from the team, and even being at the podium with the champagne.

In his daydreaming, he didn't realize that he bumped into someone. All he saw was that a girl was down on the ground with papers all over.

"I'm terribly sorry. I was not looking where I was going" he apologized.

"I'm equally at fault too"The woman assured "It was not wise to type and walk especially since this whole place is swarming with people"

Sebastian helped the girl compiling the papers and he noticed how the papers seem to be like contract for sponsorship. He looked at her and tried to identify which team did she belong to but her lack of team merchandise makes it difficult.

"You're new here?"he tries to decode.

"No, I'm not. I've been coming here since 5 years ago" there was an accent in her voice. Australian, if Sebastian was right.

"Huh, you must know your way around this whole place"

She takes a closer look at him, "You're that rookie Sebastian Vettel"

Now Sebastian doesn't have a huge following that he knows of and this is probably the first time that someone outside the family knew about him. Now, he felt even more curious about the girl.

"How did you know my name"

"Hard not to especially when you set a record to having the fastest penalty in their f1 career" she joked.

Normally Sebastian will be annoyed by the reminder of his mistake last year. He choose to forget that small mishap and avoid talking about it. But this time, he felt like the giggling is contagious that he can't help but smile when talking about his mistake.

"I assure you that I'm a much more better driver now" he states, holding up his hand as if saying that he swears he is a better a driver now.

"Hoping to see you deliver Vettel" she grins.

The girl started walking away from Sebastian when it occured to him that he didn't even know her name. He rushed to catch up with her.

"Wait, I didn't get your name"

She looked at him and there seems to be a slight hesitation

"If we meet again in a formula 1 race then I'll tell you my name" then the girl walked out of his sight.

2007, Indianopolis track.

It seems that luck has been on Y/N's side because she managed to avoid Sebastian during the past races. But it seems as if this luck is running out slowly since they are bound to meet up this weekend as Sebastian was bumped from reserve driver to formula 1 driver due to the injury that Kubica sustained in Canada.

She was hanging out at one of the coffee machines when she felt somebody tap her shoulder. She gave him a smile upon recognizing him.

"Sebastian Vettel, shouldn't you be preparing in your f1 car now?"

There was a loopy grin on his face, "Mystery woman, I was beginning to think if you are just a figment of my imagination.

Y/N pressed the hot cup to his hands, "I'm very much real and not just a figment of your mind"

"So will you tell me now your name?" Sebastian wondered. He has to admit that it has been bugging him for weeks on end about who this mystery woman is. He even went to ask around the paddock but his description was very vague and no one could help him.

"Its Y/N, nice to meet you" Purposely leaving out the last name.

In Y/N's mind it was just a safety pre-caution to leave out her last name. It was for her own good as well because people tend to act differently once they hear about your big brother or your connection to the sports. For once in her life, Y/N wants to be seen as just Y/N.

Maybe she just want to prolong this little charade for a little while longer.

"Y/N nice to finally meet you"

2007, Nürburgring

Maybe its the home turf advantage that boosted his confidence but Sebastian managed to ask Y/N if she would like a tour around the place. Thankfully, she agreed. Sebastian was already blabbering about the places that they have to get to and Y/N had to remind him that they're not staying for a vacation.

He will tell you that he is not freaking out but he prepared for the whole afternoon. He even asked his mother what outfit should he wear to make it seem like a casual hangout. In his defense, he never had a lot of friends growing up and he certainly didn't have beautiful australian girls around.

"You know you don't have to bring me flowers, were just touring around"

It was his idea to bring flowers because he often sees it in airports. When someone new is in town, they bring them flowers. He felt like the orange gerberas were a good pick as advised by the florist he knows.

"But the flowers made you smile" Sebastian grinned "I'm more than pleased to have a happy tourist to tour around"

Then two engaged in a conversation about their early life. Sebastian shared stories of the town he grew up in and his stories of motorsports.Y/N, on the other hand, listened and shared some bits of her life in Australia before she traveled around the world.

Eventually the duo ended up in an orange farm, where they picked out oranges and waited for the sunrise to set in the horizon. It was a core memory that they will share with one naother.

"We should do this again sometime"Y/N suggested

"Its a breather for you and I" Sebastian agreed "Away from all the lavishness of F1 and the pressure of the sports"

"Sounds like you wanted to run away with me"

"Who wouldn't want to run away with someone like you?"

2007, Fuji Speedway.

The past few weeks has been stressful for the Webber siblings. The articles published by some news sites seems to be getting on Mark's last nerve. Everyone seems to be taunting him about how he is over a hundred of race starts already but then he still haven't won anything. The pressure is high and Mark was determined to prove them wrong.

"Mark just don't do anything stupid okay?" Y/N begs.

She watches as Mark suit up for the next race. She was already used to her brother racing but she knew this race was a little different since her brother wanted to win.

"I'm not going to be stupid Y/N, I'll drive good today and I'll get that win that they want"Mark grumbled.

Y/N handed the helmet to her brother, "Just stay safe, I don't want to lose you"

"I'll come back safe"

The race went underway and as usual, Y/N watches it in the comforts of the driver's room. She did not want too many attention focused on her and she felt like her heart might actually come out of her rib cage if she watches it on the stands.

Japan's wet races gives Y/N a heavy feeling that something bad might happen. Her heart beats rapidly as she watches cars after cars spin out or crash. She prays that none of them was Mark. or Sebastian.

There was 20 laps to go when her ears started ringing that a Red Bull has been rear-ended by a Toro Rosso.

'Please don't let it be Mark and Seb. Please don't let it be Mark and Seb'

But the voices in the Red Bull pitlanes and the storming voices of Mark confirms her worst nightmare.

"That kid is so stupid, he shouldn't have been allowed to drive" Mark roared "I had that in the bag, I was going to win"

Y/N immediately hugged her brother, "Its alright, the win will be coming soon Mark. What matters is you are safe"

There were frustrated tears from Mark as he cried in the embrace of his sister. Privacy was given to the siblings as the race continues on. She was so focused on her brother that she didn't notice that there were several messages in her phone.

Seb: Where are you? Seb: I messed up my race and Webber. Seb: Call me when you get this. Please?

2007, Shanghai International Circuit

It felt like a heavy weight on Sebastian's shoulder after he messed up. He kept on blaming himself that he did not just mess up his own race but he also messed up Webber's race. It did not help that Y/N was not replying.

The media has also been eating him up with the way that Webber responded to him. He was called a kid that did not have enough experience. It stings a lot but now he has to put up a brave face and just race.

"SEB! SEB!"

Sebastian looked back and he saw Y/N. There was no hesitation in him but he immediately hugged her. It was the only time ever since Japan that people aren't mad at him or hounding him for questions. He felt at ease to be with Y/N.

"Where have you been, I have been messaging you over the weekend"

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Y/N says "And before I forget, I made you this as a token of my apology"

In her hand, she has a paper bag. Sebastian's curiosity is piqued upon looking at the contents inside the bag. There was a tupperware with food and a sticky note in a messy handwriting "for sebastian vettel, you can do it."

"You cook?"

"I don't but hey its the thought that counts. I figure that you might need-"

Y/N doesn't have to explain a lot because Sebastian already appreciated the gesture. He hugged her again and it seems like everything just got a little bit lighter for Sebastian that weekend.

It wasn't Sebastian's weekend at all but remembering the little note, that was tucked inside his helmet, he felt a lot better. He can bounce back next season.

2008,  Autodromo Nazionale di Monza

This was the internal dilemma of being Sebastian's friend and being Mark's sister. The two of them are in different side of the coins for this season. Two drivers shared the same family with Toro Rosso being the sister family of Red Bull but it seems like that's their only similarity.

Then there was the mixed emotion. Of course, Y/N was proud of Sebastian because he is slowly improving and shining with every grand prix. She was always elated when they see each other post-qualifying or post-race at the hotel rooftop (it has been their common knowledge that they will meet up there so that they can get fresh air together). On the other hand, Y/N knows about the pressure that it is being placed with her brother. Mark has been declining and losing hope for a maiden win. He has been in the sports for some time and he believes his time should have arrived by now but he lost opportunity after opportunity.

Y/N can't fault anyone for this one. Both of them just wanted to achieve their dreams. She wished everything does not have to escalate but here they are in the 2008 Monza Grand Prix.

Sebastian Vettel was starting on pole while Mark was starting third. Everyone is buzzing about the possibility that Toro Rosso might clinch a first win before Red Bull. It was something that Y/N knew bugged Mark's mind.

It didn't help that it was a rainy start and it sort of brought her back to Japan 2007. She was not an overly religious person but she prayed to any higher being to please don't let Mark and Sebastian crash with each other again.

The race went underway and the rain was not as heavy as Japan. Still there was some crashes and some spin. But Y/N felt the conflict of emotions start again upon seeing how Mark started to drop places while Sebastian pulled away from the rest.

Y/N went out of the driver room when it was nearing the end of the lap. She didn't know whether she should run and congratulate Sebastian or she should stay behind and comfort his brother.

Of course, blood is thicker than water.

Mark looks absolutely defeated as people started to ask him about how he is feeling when their sister group got its first win before them or how did he manage to mess up his 3rd position to eight.

"Just please give him some space, we will be answering the questions later" Y/N stepped up. Right now she was not Mark's sister but rather Mark's assistant.

Y/N helped Mark to go back to his driver's room so he can get a few minutes to himself before he gets questioned by the media again.

"It feels like shit. I feel like I can't do anything right" Mark threw his gloves across the room.

"It wasn't your time yet Mark" Y/N replied. Its like a broken record at this point which frustrates Mark.

"Then when will it be my time? Sebastian has been here for just a year or so and he already have a grand prix victory"

Y/N knew that this was the dam breaking. No words can comfort her brother right now so she just went to give him a hug. She could only wish in silence that Mark gets his win eventually.

On the other side of the paddock, there was cheering. Sebastian Vettel was in cloud 9 as he saw the Toro Rosso mechanics and engineers calls out his name. Everyone was in full party mode that they have even tossed Sebastian up in the air.

Everyone wanted to talk to him. They wanted to ask him about how he is feeling or how he created history today. He was the youngest driver to have a maiden win and the first one to bring victory to Toro Rosso.

But Sebastian eyes seem to search for someone in the crowd. He wouldn't voice it out but there was a certain woman he was hoping to see when he stepped into the podium. It had a slight twinge in his heart but the roaring crowd silenced that feeling.

'Maybe I'll see her later' Sebastian thought.

However, there was no Y/N in sight for the rest of the weekend.

2008, Marina Bay Street Circuit

Sebastian was still experiencing the highs of his Monza win and the Singapore GP has also been a good race for him. He might not have a podium finish but 5th was good enough. However if there was one thing that bothered Sebastian was the lack of Y/N sightings.

He tried messaging her after Monza but there was no reply. He thinks its probably weird that he didn't even get a congratulations because surely Y/N would know about it. There might be a couple of reasons why she didn't see it which is a) she was sick or b) she resigned.

Sebastian was gunning for the first choice because surely Y/N won't just resign without saying goodbye.

So imagine his surprise when he saw the woman that has been bugging his mind at the exit of the pitlane.

"You could have answered my texts you know" that was Sebastian's greeting to her

Y/N seems to be caught off-guard by Sebastian's presence. She was still in her work outfit Sebastian takes note as she was carrying a tote bag.

"I'm sorry. It just got a little busy for me"

Sebastian nods, he understands how having a job here is quite difficult. He could not fault her for that.

"Why not lets celebrate? I won in Monza and I finished fifth here"Sebastian offered "Consider it as your make up dinner for not congratulating me"

There was that hesitant smile gracing her face again and it reminded Sebastian of the first time she didn't tell her name. She seems extremely conflicted.

"Seb I would love to but I still have to do some work and-"

"Y/N, there you are"

Sebastian and Y/N whipped their head to the source of the voice. Mark Webber started walking towards them. It confused Sebastian as to why he knew Y/N but then he remembered that Mark was probably the one that Y/N has been working with.

"I told you to wait for me"Mark says as he picked up the bag of Y/N "I was just fixing some things with Christian"

"I can carry my stuffs myself Mark" Y/N replied

"But you have been walking in your heels the whole day, it's going to make you cranky sooner or later" Mark quipped back.

Now this confused Sebastian. It seems like their dynamics is not just work related but rather something personal. He also felt like he has missed a whole chapter and he feels very invisible at the moment.

"You two know each other?"Sebastian managed to ask.

There was a panic in Y/N eyes as if she wanted to explain but it was Mark that beat her to it.

"Of course, I know her" Mark admitted "Why wouldn't I know my sister?"

And it was that moment that Sebastian pieced out why she haven't been able to message him or why she was MIA as well in Japan. He felt stupid because he never inquired why she didn't give out her last name or why she was booked at the same hotel as the drivers.

Great just fucking great.

2008, Interlagos

It was eating her alive that Sebastian is not in speaking terms with her.

In hindsight, she understands that sooner or later, she has to tell him about who really is. She just didn't know that it will be as early and as unprepared as what happened in Singapore. She also got an earful from Mark who questioned how did she manage to meet Sebastian and why does it seem like the two are close with each other.

Honestly, she can't wait for the season to be over so that she can rest from all the drama but she knows that she has to make amends before winter break starts.

And so she slipped to the Toro Rosso garage, under the disguise that as Mark's assistant, she has to talk to Sebastian. So here she is in Sebastian's driver room, waiting for him to arrive.

"Can't I deal with this after-"Sebastian immediately stopped in his tracks upon seeing Y/N "Oh its you"

Silence enveloped the two of them. Y/N has a practiced script in her head but no words doesn't want to come out.

"I'm giving you five minutes or I'm kicking you out" Sebastian warned.

"I just came here to say that I am sorry. It wasn't really my intention to deceive you. I just wanted to be friends with you without my last name being too intimidating. I know that its terrible but I was going to tell you my name someday but Mark just got into the way and its all shit"

She was word-vomitting, she was sure of it. But hey its better than keeping everything as a burden on the shoulders.

"Say something please?" Y/N wondered with Sebastian's silence.

"You could have told me, don't you trust me?"

"I trust you Sebastian. Its just, its really complicated to be seen as Mark's sister or Mark's assistant. I just want to be just Y/N when I'm with you"Y/N sighs.

Y/N felt bummed as she thought she could fix this before winter break starts but she knows he might need some time.

"I know that its not easy to forgive me. Its selfish of me to do that so I won't force you to forgive me" she says "I'll give you some time to collect your thoughts"

Y/N reached out for the door when she felt a hand tugging her back. She saw Sebastian reaching out.

"Just give me some time"

"I will. Don't worry" she understands "I have to say I'm really proud of you this season. You did well Seb"

There was that silence when Sebastian held her. She knows things are far from okay and there is the upcoming season that has the possibility of Sebastian being upgraded to Red Bull but in this moment, none of that matters. Its just them. Just Y/N and Seb.

[mentally-gone002]

kisses at the arcade

summary: reader and steve drive dustin to the arcade… and have some of their own fun.

a part 2 to the previous title-less fic that yall loved sm with henderson!reader x steve harrington 

you can find part 1 here, and part 3 here

a/n: so i sent the first part of this to my bestie and she was like “so when do i get a part 2??” and now here we are with a part 2! rlly it is all thanks to her, because not only did she help me make up my mind to make a part 2, but she also helped me completely construct every bit of this!!!! (did i mention she’s never watched ST???) she’s literally amazing so big thank you to my queeeeen!!!!

———————————————————————

dustin charged into the living room slightly out of breath, his ‘thinking cap’ baseball hat smushed over his unruly hair. “mom! can steve drive me to the arcade? mike, will, max and lucas are going.” he panted. 

his sister looked at him from her book while she sat on the couch at the mention of steve. she swallowed back a smile that he’d go out of his way to take her brother to the arcade. 

their mom cleared her throat before she answered. “you can go if your sister does, just to keep and eye on you.” 

dustin looked at his sister with pleading eyes. “please go, we’re gonna try and beat max’s records.” he said. 

“while max is there?” she asked, closing the book and placing it onto the coffee table gently. dustin nodded. “sure, i don’t wanna miss the look on your guys’ faces when she stays with her top score.” her words made dustin scoff while she walked off to her bedroom to grab a sweater and her bag. 

———————————————————————

when steve’s red bmw made its appearance onto their driveway, dustin raced out the front door and his sister followed behind him slowly. she shivered from the early december air that nipped at her cheeks and nose, so she picked up her pace. 

“your sisters got the front tonight, henderson!” she heard steve tell dustin, to which he replied with a groan that sounded like betrayal. she looked at dustin with a smile and stuck out her tongue. 

“real mature.” dustin rolled his eyes while he climbed into the backseat. 

she slipped into the passenger seat and flashed a bright smile at steve before he put the car into gear and began the drive to the arcade across town. 

it was a short drive but after some light conversation and a fair amount of bickering between dustin and steve it felt a bit longer. by the time steve pulled into the parking lot dustin was out of the car and racing towards the arcade. 

“wait until the car is in park next time!” his sister called from out the window before rolling it back up. she turned her face towards steve. “hi.” she smiled. 

“hey.” he smiled back at her, the corners of his eyes creasing in a way that made her heart beat faster. she didn’t know why. 

he reached a hand across the gap between them to connect his palm with the side of her face. she leans into the touch, shifting in her seat to get closer, reaching her own hand to connect with the side of his neck. 

he tried to contain his smile but what was the use if she’s there to create it? steve’s hand slowly drifts down her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, which she’d blame on the time of year if he asked, until his palm rested on her knee. the honey color in his irises were almost chased away from how his pupils were blown out. 

his gaze shifted between both of her eyes as he whispered, “you look beautiful tonight, you know that, right?”

she felt her face heat up at the compliment and her eyes shifted away from his for a brief second. “thank you.” her voice was a volume just above a whisper.

steve lifts his hand from her knee to hook his fingers beneath her chin, directing her face towards his. his tongue darts between his barely parted lips prior to leaning over the center console, gently connecting his lips with hers. the taste of her strawberry lipgloss made him smile. 

the sound of her heartbeat was in her ears, making it hard to think of anything other than him and the way his soft lips slowly danced against hers rhythmically. her fingers tangled in his soft chestnut hair while she pulled away to breathe, eyes still closed and her forehead to his. “we should go inside. the kids are probably wondering where we are.” she didn’t want to say this but she knew that keeping an eye on the kids was the best idea, considering that they’d still be paranoid due to the events from a month ago.

steve knew she was right but he was feeling greedy, only wanting her all to himself right now. “they’ll be okay without us, won’t they?” he wondered quietly as he reached for her hip, smoothing his thumb over the fabric of her clothes covering it. steve pulled her closer to him, being mindful of the console separating them. 

with labored breaths and a butterfly filled stomach she nodded, giving in to him. “what if they come out and see us?” she asked with a quick pull away from their proximity. her eyebrows were pinched together, creating a tiny wrinkle between them that steve wanted to smooth away with his thumb.

steve brings her back in and tilted his head to the side. “they won’t, baby, i promise.” he gave her a reassuring grin, making sure she mirrored it before once again connecting their lips together. 

———————————————————————

dustin angrily shifted the joystick and pressed the buttons of the arcade machine, trying to make more progress and wrack up the most points so that he’d finally beat max’s score on dig-dug. as he played, lucas, mike, will and max huddled around his back to watch the screen with nervous anticipation. 

“look out!” lucas exclaimed, pointing at an enemy just before it killed dustin’s character. 

the game made the animated sound signifying that he lost and dustin kicked the machine. “son of a bitch.” he sighed, shoving a hand into his coat pocket to try and pull more coins for another round; his pocket was empty. “anyone have any quarters i can barrow?” he asked the group. they all shook their heads, wanting to keep theirs for themselves. 

“ask your sister for some, i’m sure she’d have some.” will suggested with a smile. everyone else nodded in agreement, finding the idea a good one. 

dustin turned around, staring at the bench beside the front doors where both his sister and steve should have been. “hey, has anyone seen my sister or steve?” he looked back at the group. everyone turned their heads towards the bench at once. “they aren’t there, dumbasses, that’s why i’m asking.” he clarified. 

mike shrugged. “maybe they’re still outside?” he sounded bored at the fact they were trying to solve the mystery of dustin’s missing sister and steve harrington. 

dustin nodded. “probably.” he said before running towards the doors, dodging away from other kids. everyone followed on his heels all the way outside into the cold until they all stopped outside the red bmw which was still running. 

dustin reached for the passenger door handle without even looking inside, his only concern at that moment was quarters. “hey, do you have any- what the hell are you doing?” he exclaimed, stepping back with the door still ajar.

his sister and steve pulled away from each other’s lips in surprise, both staring at dustin’s wide eyes and disgusted expression first before noticing all his friends staring as well. steve shot dustin a nervous smile while she wiped the mixture of their saliva and her lipgloss away from her mouth.

“giving mouth to mouth.” max mumbled and caused the group snicker with laughter. 

dustin harshly nudged lucas, the closest to him, as a sign for him to shut up; lucas did after a small protest of how the shove hurt. “do you have any quarters? i spent mine already.” dustin reached for and snatched away his sisters bag off the floor beside her feet.

she stole it back from him. “hey! don’t dig through my things.” she said firmly, going for her wallet. “how many do you need?” her question made the group smile. 

dustin shrugged. “twenty for what i just witnessed.” he muttered. she shot him a glare. “i mean- just three dollars worth.” he reiterated with an innocent smile. 

she dug around for quarters and handed them all to dustin when she found the amount he wanted. the group took that as a sign to go back inside since they began to grumble about the cold. dustin tried to follow but his sister called him back.

“please don’t tell mom, okay?” she asked with pleading eyes. dustin nodded which made her sigh in relief. 

“you owe me though. and you,” he pointed at steve. “you owe me as well.” steve nodded in understanding which made dustin walk back towards the arcade, slamming the car door before he left. 

she looked back at him, bottom lip held between her teeth anxiously. steve frowned at her expression and leaned towards her. “hey, it’s okay.” his hand smoothed over her hair slowly, the curls bouncing back once his hand brushed them over. “maybe it is time to y’know… tell people?” he shrugged. his hand settled lightly on her shoulder. 

her teeth let go of her lip so she could speak. “yeah… i just wish he didn’t have to find out like that.” her concern had steve nodding with adamant agreement. she looked away from him in thought. 

he dropped his head to the side as his hand guided her face and eyes back to his. “it’s all gonna work out for us, okay? you don’t have to worry.” the kindness in his eyes made her feel more sure about the situation so she nodded in advance to leaning forward to press her lips against his again. she just wanted to be extra sure, and he kissed back with a gentle assurance.

it was going to work out for them. 

————————————————————————

to anyone wondering… yes there will be a part 3 and i’m working on it rtn!!! coming very soon yall

[say-al0e]

Casual

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Steve Harrington has always been kind of an asshole and you've always been kind of in love with him. But a lifetime of friendship doesn't mean either of you are ready for something more than a casual fling because there's nothing scarier than vulnerability, even in Hawkins. [Set between seasons 2 and 3] Warnings: Car sex, requited unrequited love, unprotected PinV, mentions of cheating (parents, Carol; not Steve or Reader). Pairing: Steve Harrington x rich girl!Reader (briefly mentioned but important, off-screen Eddie Munson x rich girl!Reader) Word Count: 5.6k

Steve Harrington was kind of an asshole.

For as long as you’d known him, he’d been a bit of a dick. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, depending on who you asked, you’d known him your entire life. You grew up together, neighbors, with parents who, in their own way, were best friends - if either of your parents were capable of such a thing as friendship. And because of that, you saw a side of Steve that few others had ever witnessed.

There were moments where you saw the softness, the honeyed sweetness, that shimmered through the cracks in the facade he crafted for himself - beneath the hair and the smirk and the snarky quips. Moments where the real Steve, a tender-hearted, well-intentioned sweetheart who was always on the verge of getting it right but never quite managed to make it, lurked beneath the heavy crown he wore.

Just as there were moments when he saw beneath your own carefully crafted persona. He was the only only person who had ever seen the worry, the sadness, the deep-rooted yearning for something more that was buried beneath your walls of ice. He saw every impossibly strong, deeply felt emotion that lingered beneath your careful composure, your even stoicism. He saw the real you, not just the Ice Queen cloaked in department store dresses and expensive perfume.

Only, neither of you acknowledged those moments.

It was an unspoken pact, one you’ve honored since thirteen when you both realized that being popular meant more than being nice. You both pretended that you were still the same vapid rich kids you’d always been, unburdened by a world built to cater to you.

Even if that was no longer true. Even if it hadn’t been true in a very long time.

Either way, you didn’t mention his newfound soft spot for a strange, ragtag group of children and he didn’t mention the fact that he knew the hickey just beneath your jaw was from none other than Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.

Just as you had nearly every weekend for the past six months, the pair of you sat in the backseat of his BMW after yet another party that neither of you particularly wanted to attend. It had long ago gotten old, pretending to enjoy the self-involved prattling of your former classmates - their bragging about taking on the family business or which colleges they’d be attending in the fall, snide remarks about Steve’s lack of direction while conveniently ignoring the fact that you were the only one with an Ivy acceptance - and you couldn’t help yourself as you huffed.

“Tommy and Carol are the worst. I swear, if I have to hear her bitch about his inability to make her come or him make another stupid fucking dick joke, I’m gonna scream.”

For as long as you could remember, you’d wanted to tell them both to fuck off, to disappear back into whatever hole they’d managed to claw their way out of, but Steve reveled in their following, once upon a time, anyway. Now, he looked almost resigned to their existence in your lives as he frowned.

“She told you that?”

“Won’t stop telling me that,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as his hand fell to your thigh, fingers idly tracing the bare skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. “I would tell her to break up with him but, honestly, they totally deserve each other. May they spend the rest of their lives making each other completely fucking miserable.”

It was only in these moments, hidden away in the thick of the trees near Lover’s Lake, that any glimpse of your real selves began to emerge. Your annoyed huffing, directed at the awful people you found yourself surrounded by, and Steve’s tender touch as he shifted closer and carefully brushed a lock of hair from your neck. Neither of you mentioned it, too lost in your own little world, but it never escaped either of your notice.

Still, Steve hummed dutifully. “Totally,” he agreed, “told him she cheated on him with Billy but he called me a liar.” He paused for a moment, shifted just a touch closer - his jean covered leg pressing into yours, body warm even in the cool air conditioning - before he changed the subject by asking, “New perfume?”

“Everyone knows about her and Billy. But, like, who hasn’t Billy fucked at this point.” Steve leaned in, nosed at the curve of your jaw, and you hummed. “Mom brought it back from that last conference they went to. Said I needed something more mature before I leave for school.” You left out the part of the conversation where she went on for nearly an hour about how much of a waste it was for you to even consider college in the first place when you were meant to marry someone of status - someone like Steve - and tilted your head to allow him more room.

“Smells good,” he complimented. “Like oranges or something.”

“Or something,” you mumbled agreeably, shifting against the seat to make yourself more comfortable as he began to press his mouth to the sensitive skin of your throat. “What’re you doin’, Stevie?”

“Giving you the attention you deserve,” he answered, never missing a beat and only pausing to nip at the pulse point. “Can’t have you unfucked in this skirt. That’d be criminal.”

As if he sought to make a point, Steve’s hand began to drift higher up your thigh, fingers traveling a well-worn path and ghosting over bruises left in his wake after last Saturday’s party at his own home. Again, he decidedly avoided the few extra spots that lined your thighs - the bite mark he would see when you parted your legs, in the shape of a certain metalhead’s teeth, and the hickey you’d been left with at the juncture of your thighs - as you laughed.

“Should call Hawkins’s finest,” you teased, grinning when Steve huffed a laugh.

“They’d send Callahan,” he mused as his fingers dug into the plush of your thigh and pulled you closer, encouraging you to climb onto his lap. “Would love to see him try to figure out what to do with you.”

“And you know what to do with me?”

Steve’s smirk was obvious, clear even as he nipped at your skin. “‘Course I do,” he assured you, settling back against the plush of the seat as you shifted in the small space and settled on his lap. “I know exactly what to do with you.”

“Prove it.”

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, thick even in the cool interior of his car, and gave you the briefest respite to study him. Soft brown eyes were blown black with lust, a darkness that you sometimes found yourself grateful for the chance to witness, and his hair had begun falling in his eyes. His cheeks were tinged pink and you knew that his lips would follow soon. 

Steve was beautiful, a work of art in the dim moonlight, and your heart beat just a touch too fast for something that was supposed to be casual as you waited for him to take the bait.

Before you could tease, attempt to bring some levity back into the moment that suddenly seemed too intense, Steve’s large hand found the back of your head. He pulled you in with a practiced ease, a touch that betrayed just how comfortable you were with one another, and pressed his mouth to yours.

Whereas Steve’s facade was all flash, easy confidence with nothing to prove, his kiss was almost desperate. There was the knowledge that he was good - he’d earned it, sought to learn exactly what you liked and adapted quickly - but beneath that, there was a desire to make the moment everything you could want. He kissed you with an urgency you could never quite understand, almost as if he wanted to savor the moment because he feared it may never happen again, but you knew that couldn’t be true.

As reticent as you both were to delve into your true selves - into your true feelings - you knew that this would happen time and again. It would happen until one of you inevitably broke the other’s heart, and maybe even after.

Still, Steve kissed your with more passion than you ever could’ve expected.

From your position on his lap, skirt bunched around your waist and hands falling into his hair, you could feel the growing bulge in his jeans. There was a slight rocking of his hips, something you might’ve dismissed as an attempt to get comfortable if you didn’t know him so well, and you still managed to find yourself surprised by just how much the little things turned him on.

“Girls like you,” he rasped, breaking the kiss before you could even think to, “just need to be fucked dumb. Be all pretty and cock drunk. Made into that pretty little trophy wife you swear you’d hate to be.”

The way he spoke was so casually condescending, a little mean in the way he’d discovered you liked, and you felt your cheeks heat as you squirmed on his lap. He knew - knew that your mother hated your ambition, swore you were purposely sabotaging her attempts to marry you off, including the few attempts she’d made with him - and smirked when you shot him a half-hearted glare.

“You can pout all you want, but that’s what you need, right?” His hands fell to your thighs, raking up the soft skin as your own tangled in his hair and tugged. “To be taken care of, to be fucked like you deserve.”

“Don’t think some hotshot husband would care enough to fuck me like that,” you countered, swallowing hard in an attempt to maintain your composure as his fingers trailed higher. “Would never come. He’d be too focused on fucking the secretary ‘cause she won’t be upset when he gets off and she doesn’t. But that’s why the trophy wives fuck the pool boys and tennis coaches, I guess.”

Steve hummed his understanding - had his own firsthand knowledge of both your father’s affairs, knew just what kind of men he was surrounded by now that he was old enough - before tipping his chin to glance up at you. “Guess you’ll have to look harder to find someone worth your time, then. ‘Cause this pussy’s too good to be wasted on some dickhead who won’t appreciate it.”

“Steve.” His name came out softer than you intended, a near breathless sort of whine that betrayed you - more than the growing patch of slick clearly visible against the light pink fabric of your panties - and he hummed.

“Don’t worry, babe. You know I’ll take care of you.” Though Steve could be an asshole when he wanted, he was nothing but a giver when he settled between your thighs. There were moments where you worried, secretly feared this might be the moment he decided to be selfish and leave you hanging, but more often than not, you were the one to tap out first. And any argument you could’ve formed died on your lips as he ordered, “Just shut up and sit pretty for me, yeah?”

Despite yourself - despite the part of your brain that wanted you to argue, to fight back and tell him to go fuck himself - you melted into his touch as his fingers ghosted over the fabric between your thighs. You heard him sigh, felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your mouth as he refused to put more space than necessary between you, as his gaze met yours.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in my bed,” he decided, gaze flicking back to where his fingers hooked into the soft material and dragged it to the side. “Can’t taste you the way I want in here.”

“Can’t keep saying shit like that,” you mumbled, nails biting into his skin as you gripped his shoulder to keep yourself upright. “Gonna make me think you actually like eating pussy.”

“I do,” he admitted, grinning when you rolled your eyes. “Like eating yours the best, though.”

With that, Steve’s fingers swiped through the slick gathered between your thighs. His thumb caught on the sensitive bundle of nerves and his mouth returned to yours, eagerly swallowing the soft noise of surprised pleasure you released.

Each swipe of his fingers was easy, almost lazy. There was a practiced ease there, a lover’s knowledge of your body - absent any of the almost nervous exploration of the first time - and you forced yourself not to think too hard about that fact as his tongue swiped at the seam of your lips.

The small space was cramped, not the easiest to maneuver, but it was familiar.

Though sometimes familiarity equated to boredom, routine, Steve’s touch was anything but. Every swipe of his fingers through your folds, every brush of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, was electrifying. He had you teetering on the verge of begging, eager for him in a way you’d never been for anyone else - almost anyone else - and you knew he could tell as he finally gave you something more.

Two thick fingers, skilled and steady, pressed into you. They stretched you - never quite enough to fully prepare you for the impressive length hidden beneath the denim you knew you were soaking through - in a way that had your breath catching in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. Steve knew exactly where to press, fingers finding that one spot that made you see stars, and you could feel the twitch of his mouth as he refused to allow you to pull away from the kiss entirely.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, tone so smug it made you realize why so many were eager to brand him an asshole. “C’mon, babe, the sooner you let go, the sooner I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Despite your conflicting emotions - the desire to hit him, to call him an asshole and tell him to just get on with it; the desire to kiss him, to tell him that you only wanted this, him for the rest of your life - you settled for the middle ground and allowed yourself to sink into his touch.

Those murmurs of encouragement, almost reverent in a way that you hoped no one else had ever heard, had your mind blanking and your chest heaving as you focused solely on the press of his fingers. His pace was perfect, steady and even and never too much - always too much, always enough to make you wonder how you ever thought you could be fine with losing this someday - and you would’ve told him as much if you were capable of speaking without admitting that you were afraid you could love him for the rest of your life.

Instead, you settled for sinking your nails into his shoulder, for tugging at the soft strands of his hair, as he nipped at your skin. He sucked a mark just beneath the one you knew he’d seen, despite your attempt at concealing it, and that was enough to throw you over the edge.

Steve once admitted to loving the noises you made, promised they turned him on rather than weirded him out - something you only admitted when he asked why you were so quiet, refused to let you come until you explained yourself - and you knew you wouldn’t have been able to quiet yourself even if you’d tried as his fingers worked you through the first orgasm of the night.

Knowing him, Steve wouldn’t stop until he had you desperate - he liked to see your tears, watery eyes and mascara running as you finally let down the walls he’d only glimpsed behind - and that seemed to be the case as he resumed his pace the moment your breathing began to even.

“Steve,” you huffed, your best attempt at something resembling normal, though you could hear the whining edge to your tone. “Fuck me,” you demanded, or at least attempted to. “Fill me up. So big, always feel so full when you’re inside.”

It was a low blow, an attempt to appeal to his ego - exaggerated, though it was true; he was the biggest you’d ever had - and he rolled his eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip.

“So fucking impatient,” he huffed, though he gave in, just as he always did. “Such a spoiled brat.”

With a tap to your thigh, you shifted. You held yourself upright, knees digging into the soft cushions of the seat, long enough for him to unbutton his jeans and shift his hips. As you had every time you found yourself in this situation, which was more often than not lately, you watched with wide eyes and bated breath as he freed himself from the confines of too-tight denim.

For years, you wondered why so many girls flocked to Steve when they knew how things would end. You wondered why anyone gave him a chance, why anyone came back when he forgot to call or blew them off for someone else, but you understood now. The look of him, the weight and feel of his cock in your hand as you reached out and swiped at the pearl of precum beading at the tip, was almost answer enough. The effort he put in to make you feel as if you were the only person that mattered, as if your pleasure were more important than his, quelled the rest of your doubt.

When you lifted your hand to your mouth, lapped the bead from your thumb and hummed, Steve groaned.

“Fucking tease.” There was no bite, no venom, to the words, but you still bit back your grin as he reached for your hip with one hand and held the base of his cock with the other. He dragged you closer, settled you firmly on his lap and swiped the tip of his cock through your folds, as he tipped his chin in a silent request for you to return your mouth to his.

As you pressed your lips to his, he used the grip on your hip to drag your hips down. It was swift, faster than he’d ever gone and almost desperate in the way he pulled you in, but you reveled in the slight pinch as he stretched you open.

There was something so overwhelming about feeling Steve so close, about having him in the way you dreamt of when you first realized how you felt about him, but you did your best to swallow the sudden lump in your throat as your eyes fell shut and your lips parted.

The pace always varied with Steve. Some nights were hard and fast, usually when you were both wound up after a particularly rough night; others were soft and slow, when the emotion began to overwhelm you, when the desperate need to be close outweighed the potential damage a confession might bring. And others still were somewhere in between, teasing and playful; an alternation between soft and hard, slow and quick - a way for him to make you beg, to bring you out of your head and into the moment.

Tonight was no different.

Though you sat atop him, Steve did all the work. His hips snapped, cock pressing into you with every movement, as his hands dragged you down. He controlled the pace, controlled the moment, and you allowed yourself to be fully present.

There was no facade in these moments, no pretending to be anything other than you were, and you imagined that was why you both returned time and again. This was Steve - giving, eager, desperate to be good enough. And you were just as present, just as honest; soft, pliant, warm and overjoyed that he still wanted you despite the surface ice that froze most others out. 

Neither of you could pretend here, with nothing between you but a few pesky articles of clothing. Neither of you wanted to.

And you knew, as your mouth returned to his, that despite the rough snap of his hips and the bruising grip he held on your hip, that your kiss betrayed you. Each swipe of your tongue, each breathless gasp you allowed him to swallow, told him exactly what he needed to know.

When his hand fell between your thighs, thumb pressing to the aching bundle of nerves, your mind went blank and your thoughts revolved solely around the beautiful brunette beneath you.

The curve of his jaw, the warmth of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the plush of his lips; Steve, Steve, Steve, was all that existed in your mind. The drag of his cock, filling you so perfectly that it almost seemed as if he were a missing piece, designed especially for you, was all that existed. And just as he wanted, it left you pliant in his hands.

“There we go,” he groaned, voice softer than you imagined he intended, as a hand lifted to your cheek. “Look at that, givin’ you what you need, hm?” When you moaned your agreement, lips pursing in a silent request for him to kiss you, Steve smiled. “Look pretty like this. Soft and fucked out for me. I’m the only one that can make you feel like this, yeah?”

It was the first confirmation that he knew, that he cared more than you thought he might, about the other man in your life. And though you wanted to tease him, to poke and prod and be a bit of a bitch about it, you could only moan your agreement.

Eddie was good, was more than enough, but there was something about Steve.

“Prove it,” he demanded, voice only just beginning to show his exertion as his hips snapped a little harder. “Come for me, babe. Show me how good I make you feel.”

As was beginning to become a habit, you gave in to him without so much as an attempt otherwise. The press of his fingers to your aching clit, the rough snap of his hips, the warmth of his breath fanning over your sweat slick skin; all of it was too much, just enough, to send you barreling over the edge for a second time.

With a cry of his name, keening and louder than you intended, you came and Steve followed shortly after. You could feel the warmth of his spend, the twitch of his cock, as you settled for a long moment, and felt the tears stinging at the backs of your eyes.

Without so much as a second though, Steve lifted a hand to brush at your cheeks, careful not to press too hard, and swiped away the few that had fallen before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and shot you a teasing wink.

“Love it when you cry for me, babe,” he teased, though you wondered if he’d have the same reaction if he knew the tears were, at least in part, caused by the overwhelming flurry of emotion that had you questioning everything you knew. “Seeing the Ice Queen melt never gets old.”

“You’re such a dick, Stevie.” The huff was as playful as you could manage with your breath still coming in short pants and your stomach churning with emotion but he grinned just the same as he helped you off his lap.

“Think you mean, ‘you have such a great dick, Stevie’.” When you rolled your eyes, straightening out your clothes and attempting to smooth your hair, he laughed. “Oh, c’mon, not gonna say thank you for the incredible orgasms? Your parents raised you better than that, babe.”

“They raised me better than to fuck some rich asshole in the backseat of his car, but, here we are.” Steve followed your lead and began to straighten himself out, zipped his jeans and at least pretended not to stare as you settled your panties back into place, the fabric immediately darkening with his spend. “Speaking of, you should probably get me home, Romeo. It’s past curfew.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Steve simply tugged you back into his side, hand cradling your jaw as you both attempted to catch your breath.

The lie was obvious - your parents didn’t care very much how late you stayed out, even less when you were with Steve - and you knew that he knew who would be waiting for you to return home. However, you didn’t expect him to ask.

Steve’s touch was soft, though you could see the distaste in the set of his mouth as his fingers brushed the two marks beneath your jaw - one fresh and one fading. “What’re you doin’ with the freak, anyway?” He’d never asked, neither of you made it a habit to pry into the other’s personal life, but he seemed unable to help himself as he continued. “You know you could just buy weed, right? You don’t have to fuck him for it.”

“I don’t smoke,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into his touch. “Dunno,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as your hands worried with the hem of your skirt. “He’s exciting. Well, not really,” you amended because he wasn’t, “but he’s different. He’s just… Eddie. Doesn’t try to be something he’s not.” The slight was unintentional but you caught Steve’s slight wince, even as you barreled on. “And, I mean, it totally pisses off my dad every time he sees Eddie sneaking out because the guy’s a total fucking klutz and can’t leave without waking up half the neighborhood.” Steve scoffed, though you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it as he quickly covered the sound with a clearing of his throat before you added, as an afterthought, “And he listens to me. Not, like, pretends to.”

“I listen to you.”

While it wasn’t a lie - Steve listened, retained whatever you told him - neither of you were ever particularly honest with one another. Your conversations were never as serious as the ones you shared with Eddie, never as deep. For someone you considered your best friend, Steve barely knew anything about the real you. Though, that was as much your fault as it was his.

There was always a fear, deep and unfounded, that he might not like the real you. That if you were honest, that if you allowed him to see you for who you really were, that he might hate you. That he might leave. With Eddie, that didn’t matter very much. He was fun, a distraction, a taste of something forbidden and a glimpse into another life, but he was temporary. He could leave at any time, decide he didn’t like the real you and it might hurt for a moment but you would get over it quick. 

With Steve, it was your biggest fear.

Thinking that he might not like the real you, that he might suddenly change his mind and decide the real you wasn’t worth his time, was a fear that felt almost paralyzing. Steve’s opinion mattered, more than anyone else’s, so you held tight to the person you’d always been - the one he’d always at least tolerated - and never breathed so much as a word to the contrary.

Regardless, you humored him. “You do,” you agreed, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from his eyes. “But you kinda have to. And you also moaned Nancy’s name the first time we fucked so, like, that sorta cancels out some of the good stuff.” Steve flustered, cheeks flashing neon pink as he recalled the moment - a drunken hookup soon after his breakup, the first of what would become a regular occurrence - but before he could defend himself, you asked, “How’s that going, by the way? You figure out how to get her back from the creep?”

Steve shook his head, then, and sighed as he admitted, “Don’t think I even want to, anymore. Think I was just… She was right, maybe. We were kind of bullshit.”

The resigned misery in his voice was obvious, still upset by the hurtful declaration of a girl you knew he’d loved - in his own way, anyway - and you sighed as you rested your head against the seat cushion. “All of this is bullshit,” you shrugged. “High school, Hawkins, Indiana; none of it means anything.”

“We don’t mean anything?” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Steve sounded almost heartbroken - devastated to hear yet another person who meant something to him declare that he meant nothing - and you sighed as you grabbed the hand that rested on your thigh.

“You know I hate sentimentality,” you mumbled, unable to look him in the eye, “but you’re the only thing worth anything in my whole life. You could never be bullshit. Annoying, totally, but not bullshit. Never bullshit.”

There was a brief pause, a moment in which you both felt the weight of you admission pressing on your chests - stealing what little air seemed to remain in the car, windows still fogged and radio still playing too softly to really hear - before Steve swallowed. “You know I…” He cut himself off, paused and seemed to think better of voicing the thought aloud, before he asked, “You know, right?”

‘I love you,’ went unspoken, as it always had. It lingered, just beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to crack the ice and set it free. You knew, just as Steve did, that you were in something like love. Maybe not a love that would last forever, maybe not even a love that was ever meant to be, but it was there.

Warm, shiny and bright, and just waiting for you to stop pretending that things between you had ever been casual.

So, you nodded.

“Yeah,” you assured him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it gently. “I know. Me, too.”

Silence fell, then, thick and suffocating. It filled the interior of his car with a bitter chill and it struck you just how new that feeling was. It made you wonder what a future might be like, if you had one at all, and you found yourself mildly horrified at the idea that you could end up as either set of your parents. There was no world in which you could see a future without Steve at least somewhere in your life but there was no happiness in a world in which you both continued to pretend.

Either way, you were both stuck - caught up in a never-ending performance, an act for an audience that only existed in your minds.

What began as something effortless, something casual, had become so complicated that you no longer felt certain of much beyond the understanding that you loved Steve. How -  if you could love the real him, if you only loved the idea of him, if you loved the safety of him - was a question you had no answer to but before you could begin to even fathom it, the moment ended.

Steve pressed a final kiss to your mouth, bruising in a way that made your chest ache and your eyes sting with unshod tears, before he made his way to the driver’s seat.

And then, just as he had every night since he got his license, Steve drove you home. He pulled up to the door to let you out and didn’t mention the van he saw parked down the street. He squeezed your hand before you could step out into the night, three times in rapid succession, and lit a cigarette the moment you stepped out of the car. 

King Steve wasn’t one to fall in love easily, neither was the Ice Queen. But Steve Harrington wore his heart on his sleeve and that heart beat for you. Despite the distractions, the desperate attempts at finding something so disconnected from the cushioned prison of his gilded cage, he knew that it had been you all along. And just as neither of you mentioned the real people beneath the personas, neither of you mentioned just how real the love you shared had grown.

Loving one another, allowing yourselves to be vulnerable - to reveal the deepest, darkest secrets - was terrifying. Both of you feared what the other might think of the truth that lay beneath the crown so you agreed, silently, that to pretend was better than to face rejection.

So, Steve drove the few streets that separated your neighborhood from his and let himself into the empty house that meant nothing when his true home was likely sliding open a window to allow the only person he’d ever seen as true competition inside. And he wondered when the love of his life became a casual fling, when you both resigned yourselves to pretending that neither of you deserved something real - something true, something happy. He wondered why he carried on with it, knowing that in a few short weeks you would be in Boston, knee-deep in a life you hated, while he was stuck in Hawkins, wishing he’d had the courage to be himself and that he’d asked for something more than casual.

There was no satisfactory answer, not if he really thought about it, so he decided not to. 

The rest of the summer would be spent in the same way the last six months had. Steve would pretend to enjoy the parties and the attention of girls who only wanted him for his reputation. You would continue pretending that nothing fazed you, not even him. And things between you would remain casual. 

And he supposed that was just the way it was meant to be.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: Did you know there's a chance black beans will catch on fire in the microwave? 'Cause I didn't. Anyway. This was my first time writing 'King Steve' and I had so much fun. This was loosely inspired by Chappell Roan's Casual. And my love of both Steve and Eddie. :)

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[libraryofloveletters]

A Visit To Santa

Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: jobe is being treated like a kid, pranks from you and jude, miss denise gets new photos for her house, childhood coded lol, jobe is like your little brother too, miss denise thinks y'all finna crash her bmw lmao

Word Count: 768

Author's Note: this one is for bookie @themandaloriansdiaries - our favourite brothers :)

--

Jude decides now that you two are back home in England to take his brother to do the one thing they always did as kids; visit Santa.

England welcomed you two home, a change from the Spanish sunshine was welcomed; though you missed it the moment you got off of the plane.

You and Jude were spending the holidays with his family, both Bellingham brothers, you and their parents were at home. Mark and Denise were making dinner or something of the sorts in the kitchen, Jobe was in his bedroom and you and Jude were in his room.

Jude's head rested on your belly, your fingers tapping on his forehead as you scrolled through your phone with the other hand.

"I'm bored," your boyfriend announces.

"Congratulations," you tell him, as if you were supposed to do something about that.

Jude rolls his eyes, "let's go do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," he sighs, sitting up. You look over at him, "how about shopping? Or we could go for a drive or something?"

"The shopping mall?" he asked, looking over your shoulder. There's a look on his face that you've seen before, pure mischief. Your brows raise, waiting for him to continue. "Yeah, let's go."

"What're you up to?" You asked him, Jude pulls you off of the bed.

"I'll go grab Jobe."

You stop your boyfriend, grabbing his hand. "What is this? What's all this excitement? You hate the mall."

His eyes crinkle as he chuckles, "let's take Jobe to see Santa."

You can't help the laugh, letting go of his hand. "Okay babe. Go get him, I'll get the car keys from your mom."

Jude and Jobe meet you downstairs, Denise hands you her car keys. "Be careful please," she warns her sons, not you. She knew you'd handle them.

"We'll be back for dinner," Jude tells his mom, kissing her cheek before grabbing your hand.

You shout a bye to her and Mark as you three are out the front door and pile into the car. You drove of course, Jude doesn't drive and Jobe was a designated back seat driver. Jude had told his brother that you wanted to go shopping and he agreed to join you, saying he could use some fresh air.

The mall was a madhouse, it was T-minus 2 days to Christmas and everyone was rushing to get last minute shopping done.

You made a B-line for Santa's workshop in the mall, making it seem like you wanted to take a couple's photo of you and Jude with Santa.

Jobe shakes his head, "this is ridiculous," he tells you, waiting in line with you two.

"Do you not believe in the magic of Christmas, Jojo?" You teased him, pinching his cheek gently; you looked at Jobe like your little brother as well, teasing him the same way his brother would, having your own little nickname for him.

Jude smiles, watching as Jobe swats your hand away, making you laugh.

It takes a few minutes to get to the front of the line, the woman dressed as an elf calling you up to take your photo.

Jobe feels a light shove, Jude pushing him to Santa. "What?" he asked his brother, looking a bit lost.

"Go take your pic, mate."

"What?" Jobe scoffed, "I'm not going."

You take his coat from him, "go on, Jojo. Santa's waiting." You tell him, lips pressed together so you don't laugh. Jobe grumbles under his breath, something about hating you guys as he begrudgingly walks over to Santa.

The younger Bellingham sits beside Santa, the fakest smile you've ever seen on his face as the camera flashes.

Jude takes your hand, bringing you over to Santa. The two of you joined in. Jobe and Jude on either side of Santa and somehow you ended up on Santa's lap.

"On three, say merry Christmas!" The woman behind the camera says, counting to three before it flashes.

You let Santa speak to Jude and Jobe while you went to the counter to get the printed photos. You got two prints of the photo with the 3 of you, one for your home in Madrid and one for their home here in England. You also got a printed version of the solo shot with Jobe and Santa for the fridge at home.

The boys met you by the counter, Jude handing out his card so you can pay. "I can't believe you made me do that," Jobe mumbled, huffing.

You laugh, kissing his cheek. "It's okay, buddy."

Jude holds your hand, the bag with the photos in hand. "You're still a kid to us, mate." He laughs, pulling you into his side. "Let's go before we get in trouble for being late to dinner.

[teen6ge]

Seoul Drift ☆ 1

☆ summary: Ever since your mom tied the knot with Seungcheol's dad, you've been drawn to the electrifying world of drift racing. Watching Seungcheol—aka S.COUPS—tear up the streets, cementing his place as one of Seoul's top drifters, filled you with pride. From the moment you witnessed your first race, you've been itching to join in, begging Seungcheol to teach you the ropes. But he's always been dead set against it, wary of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the racing scene. However, everything changes when Wonwoo, a member of a rival crew, enters the picture. Suddenly, the lines between personal and professional blur, and seismic shifts rock both your personal life and Seungcheol's drifting career.

☆ pairing: fem!reader x racer!wonwoo

☆ genre: action. angst. eventual smut. strangers to lovers.

☆ word count: 3,6k

☆ a/n: IT'S HERE EARLY THAN I EXPECTED!!!!!!!! y'all, i have absolutely nothing to add. this is only the beginning and, soon enough, i'll evolve my writing, promise. i just hope you like it just as much as i did! i also would like to thank for the support and interest. next chapter i'll work harder. soon i'll post two important links to get you in the mood (playlist + aesthetic boards). that's it! thank youuuuuuuuuuu

“This is so exciting, isn’t it?” Yeeun's high-pitched voice chirps, breaking through the veil of your anxious thoughts about tonight's race. You turn to face her, mustering a somewhat forced smile as you nod in agreement before looking at Seungcheol again. It's unusual for you to feel this anxious about one of his races, but tonight, there's an unshakeable feeling that something is going to be different. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick with the promise of an electrifying night ahead.

Your stepbrother is already in his car, a white Acura NSX with striking red, gray, and black accents, poised at the starting line while awaiting the final racer to arrive. He exudes confidence, as always, unfazed by the tension of the moment. One hand firmly grips the wheel while the other casually supports his chin, his gaze scanning the crowd before meeting yours. A reassuring smile graces his lips, conveying silent encouragement. You couldn’t help but relax as you smile back, feeling way less nervous than before. 

A short, black-haired man strides confidently toward the first car, an all-black BMW M5, leaning casually over the driver's window to engage in conversation. "Hey, who's that?" Yeeun inquires, pointing in his direction. Your eyes instinctively roll at the sight of him.

"That's Hoshi. His real name is Soonyoung, but everyone knows him as Hoshi. He's part of this massive drift team called Supra NFZ. They're rivals with Cheol's team. Well, basically, they're the only rivals they have," you explain, crossing your arms. Yeeun listens intently, her gaze shifting to Hoshi for a moment before she scoffs. 

"Pigs," Yeeun mutters, and you can't help but giggle at your best friend's words. Honestly, you couldn't agree more.

"Yeah, they are. Plus, I don't know why Seungcheol keeps coming to their events. It's not like they're the only ones around..." you mutter, scanning the area as you observe people placing their bets with another member of the Supra NFZ.

"Maybe because they're our only rivals, as you said before, Y/N," Mingyu's voice chimes in, causing you to turn around. You're met with the flash of his professional camera as he captures a picture of you and Yeeun. Blinking rapidly, you close your eyes immediately after, the brightness burning into your retinas as you whine, slapping your hand against Mingyu's strong arm. He giggles in response. "I'm sorry, I just had to." 

"A'ight, listen up, racers," Hoshi's loud voice cuts through the chatter, instantly quieting down the crowd as all eyes turn to him. "Race starts in 2 minutes, with or without my guest, so get yourselves ready."

Not a minute after Hoshi's announcement, a loud roar of a car getting closer and closer fills the air, causing the crowd to scatter. A black, simple 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse emerges, positioning itself beside Seungcheol's car. When the driver rolls his window down, Hoshi smiles as he opens his arms. “Wonwoo, you made it! A’ight, y’all. This is my guest, Jeon Wonwoo, a.k.a GAM3 BO1. It’s his first time, so let’s make him feel at home, a’ight?”

"Shit… We got a newbie." Mingyu exclaims in excitement, standing right behind you. His eyes scan the crowd, searching for his own team.

The crowd starts to buzz talking about the new competitor, your group included. Seungcheol glares at the dark haired man, smirking cocky as his engine roars impatiently, now turning to the other opponents, Bobby and Zico, who are adorning the same smile as him.

“Racers… Ready?” Hoshi asks, the drivers only speeding up in response, engines roaring loud and repeatedly. Wonwoo's eyes meet your stepbrother's, and for a moment, it seems like Wonwoo looks scared. Seungcheol is a serious man to those who don't know him; it's not uncommon for people to find him intimidating. However, once you get to know him, you understand that he's actually a very patient and caring person. That's why it's common to see the look of despair on his face as Cheol glares at him. You're beginning to feel nervous again as Hoshi stands in front of the now four cars, his arms lifting as the race is about to start. 

Engines purr impatiently as Hoshi begins to count down from 3 to 1, yelling "GO!" As expected, the first car to start moving is Seungcheol's, the last being from the newbie, but not too far behind. People cheer as they rush to the start line, now free of cars, to watch the vehicles until they disappear from view, yourself included. Yeeun cheers as loud as she can for Seungcheol, Mingyu joining her afterwards as soon as he drags Vernon, the newest member of Cheol’s crew, along with him. Your eyes are fixed on your stepbrother's car, the white Acura drifting beautifully as it turns right, almost side by side with Zico’s car, a purple Nissan 180SX S13, closing in on Seungcheol’s lead, which makes you bite your nail due to nervousness. 

As soon as the four cars disappear, the crowd darts to an alley, eager to reach the other side of the block where the finish line awaits. Mingyu is the one to bring you back to reality by grabbing your hand and forcing you to walk with the rest of the group to where the crowd is going.

"Gyu... I don't... I don't think Cheol is winning this one," you manage to mutter, your eyes filled with worry as Mingyu stops in his tracks to face you, his smile disappearing when he notices your serious expression.

"Hey! No, no, no. Don't you dare think he can't win this. Zico might be scary, but he's definitely not better than Coups, okay? Bobby and the other one are not even a competition anymore," he says, grabbing your chin and smiling fondly as he tries to soothe you. "He's got this, okay? And he needs us to be there when he wins yet another race. Let's go, love."

As soon as you reach the finish line, you spot Hoshi watching the race from a TV surrounded by a crowd of people trying to catch a glimpse of the screen as well. A drone camera hovers overhead, controlled by a long black-haired, skinny boy who sits by Hoshi's side. It's the same boy who was collecting people's bets before the race started.

From where you stand, you can see Cheol's car in the lead, with Zico following closely behind while Bobby and Wonwoo are locked in a fierce battle for third place. A wave of relief washes over you at the sight of your brother leading the race, and you notice Vernon, Mingyu, and Yeeun already opening a beer to celebrate the foreseen victory. You smile in relief, grabbing a beer yourself. 

"Ain't no way!" someone yells from the crowd, and your smile drops as you turn to face the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see what seems to be the unbelievable: Wonwoo closing in on Seungcheol. Over the buzz of the crowd, you can hear Hoshi's laugh, and your eyes remain fixed on the TV screen as both cars take a turn to enter the street where you are now.

Everyone moves to the sides of the finish line, their eyes glued to the two cars closing in on each other. Both drivers have already activated their Nitro gas, accelerating with every ounce of power they have in an intense final push to try to win.

Just when everything seems to be shrouded in uncertainty, Wonwoo's car starts to slow down a bit, a clear indication that his Nitro has run out, while Cheol keeps moving faster and faster, crossing the finish line. Drifting his car to mark a circle on the ground before coming to a stop, Seungcheol jumps out of the car, a victorious smile on his face as people rush up to congratulate him.

Yeeun jumps into his arms, showering him with kisses as he embraces her waist, murmuring words of love before letting her go to greet Mingyu and Vernon, both of them gushing about how incredible the race was. You watch him with a proud smile before wrapping him in a tight hug, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. 

"I'm so proud of you, Cheollie. That was scary, but also pretty amazing!" you say in a low voice, knowing how much he would hate it if everybody listened to your nickname for him. He winks at you before turning to the rest of the competitors, who are now talking to their own crew. Seungcheol walks up to them to congratulate them about the race. You eye the competitors you’re familiar with before your eyes land on Wonwoo, who has a satisfied smile on his face. His car has fog coming out of the hood, and he clearly lost a bunch of money. You couldn't understand how and why he's happy, but you couldn’t help but smile along with him, finding it adorable. 

"S.COUPS… Here's your prize. Congrats, man," Hoshi approaches your brother, his voice carrying a tone of somewhat fake admiration as he hands over the money they've collected before the race. It’s a BUNCH of money, and your brother's smile widens with pride and satisfaction as he accepts the winnings. "A'ight, let's party, people! The night is just beginning," Hoshi announces to the jubilant crowd, igniting a wave of excitement and anticipation for the festivities ahead.

After securely stashing away the prize money, Seungcheol strides confidently toward the new boy, whose skill nearly cost him first place, and crosses his arms, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. GAM3 BO1 turns to face him, his smile unwavering even as he lifts the hood of the car, releasing a billow of smoke. Seungcheol positions himself beside the boy, casting a critical eye over the engine as he inspects the interior, shaking his head in mock disapproval. His gaze returns to the boy. "Whatcha smiling about?" 

"Dude, I almost had you," Wonwoo declares, his tone filled with a mixture of determination and playful challenge, before pointing a finger squarely at your brother, and earning him a round of cheers and applause from the onlookers. Now you’re definitely laughing. Seungcheol grins at his words, looking over his shoulder at his teammates before looking at the boy again. 

“You almost had me? You never had me. You never had your car.” Cheol's words ring out, cutting through the air with a mix of humor and challenge that sends the surrounding crowd into fits of laughter. The infectious sound fills the air, causing your lips to press together to contain your own amusement. Despite the laughter, a sense of sympathy washes over you for the boy. Wonwoo’s eyes shift between the crowd and your brother, his smile unwavering.

Your brother strides confidently around the car as he continues, his voice carrying a playful edge. “Granny-shifting. Not double-clutching, like you should. You’re lucky that 100-shot of NOS didn’t blow the welds on the intake.” His words are met with a chorus of cheers in agreement, the crowd clearly enjoying the banter between the two racers. “Almost had me?” Seungcheol turns to the people behind him, their expressions a mix of disbelief and awe at the exchange that just unfolded. Without a word, they gesture for Wonwoo to leave, their reactions a testament to the intensity of the moment. The boy is still unaffected by any words or actions. 

“Ask any racer. Any real racer.” Cheol's voice booms with confidence as he returns to stand in front of Wonwoo, his demeanor commanding the attention of everyone around him. Mingyu and Vernon move closer to support their friend, their presence adding to the sense of camaraderie and unity among them. You watch the scene unfold with a grin on your lips, observing how your brother exudes an undeniable sense of cockiness when it comes to racing.

“It doesn’t matter if you win by an inch or a mile. Winning’s winning.” His words resonate deeply, echoing through the crowd and eliciting cheers and applause from all around. Some people even join in, yelling "yeah" to express their agreement with your brother's sentiment. 

And it was true. 

Although Wonwoo came close to overtaking Cheol's lead, he ultimately didn't win, and that's what matters in the world of street racing. Your brother turns around to embrace his girlfriend before making his way through the jubilant crowd, joining in the festivities as someone's car blasts music at full volume.

Meanwhile, you remain in the same spot, a sympathetic smile on your lips as you observe Wonwoo, who appears to be crestfallen as his car continues to emit smoke.

"You really didn't prepare for the race as you needed to, did you?" you remark, your tone a mixture of empathy and curiosity as you address the disappointed racer. He turns around as soon as he hears your voice, and sighs as he shakes his head.

“Apparently, I did not…” he chuckles, his expression a mix of resignation and amusement as he acknowledges his oversight. You find yourself smiling in response, drawn to his easygoing demeanor as you approach him, taking a closer look at his car.

“But he’s right. S.COUPS knows more about this than I do, clearly,” he continues, his tone tinged with admiration as he acknowledges your brother's expertise. “I thought only having Nitro gas was enough.”

You smile sympathetically, nodding in understanding as you lean against his car, your eyes scanning the crowd in search of your brother, who is now engrossed in the festivities with his teammates and Yeeun. 

“He’s not a bad guy, you know? He’s been in this game for a long time, so he knows and loves what he’s doing now. But he was just like you at first,” you remark, your gaze returning to Wonwoo, who mirrors your posture as he leans against his car beside you. “NOS isn’t enough, and whether you like it or not, drifting is also an important skill to master.” 

"Yeah... Do you race too?" His curiosity is genuine, evident in the way he speaks, as if he's genuinely interested in your involvement in the racing scene. You chuckle softly and shake your head, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes.

"No! No, I... He would never let me," you sigh, your gaze drifting towards your brother once again. The familiar tension between you two surfaces once more in your mind. It's a recurring cycle - you ask him to teach you, he refuses, and before you know it, you're locked in another argument. "He hardly changes his mind."

Wonwoo hums in understanding, his gaze following yours to your brother, and a chuckle escapes him, prompting you to look at him with a slight frown, though a smile plays at the corners of your lips. "What?"

He shakes his head before returning his gaze to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "I was going to ask if he's your boyfriend or something, but he clearly isn't. He's almost swallowing the blonde girl he's with," he remarks, his observation laced with humor. You laugh in response, shaking your head at the amusing misconception.

"Oh, God, no! No, he's my brother. Well... Stepbrother," you clarify, offering a small smile as you dispel any misconceptions about your relationship with Seungcheol. Wonwoo hums again, looking at his own hands while toying with his fingers before speaking.

“So… It’s okay to ask for your number then, right?” he smiles at you, his ears slightly pink, a sign of his nervousness. You feel your cheeks burning as you smile shyly and nod in response to his question. “Yeah? What about a date?”

“Yes, Wonwoo! I’ll go out with you,” you say, unable to hide your excitement. His gaze is endearing as he looks at you, his eyes moving between your lips and eyes, a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Good. I promise it won’t be as embarrassing as today… At least not for me," he adds with a chuckle, and you both share a laugh, the tension easing between you.

After exchanging phone numbers, Seungcheol calls out for you, indicating it's time to go. Reluctantly, you begin to make your way toward him, though part of you wishes you could stay longer with Wonwoo. You're unsure if he'll actually ask you on a date, but the possibility leaves you feeling anxious and excited.

After a few moments, Wonwoo makes his way back to Hoshi’s garage, where the rest of the Supra NFZ crew has gathered, minus DK himself. Despite being a part of the team for two years now, Wonwoo has never actually met DK in person; he only knows of him through reputation. Stepping out of his car once it's parked, Wonwoo strides toward the table where the other members are gathered, their attention absorbed by a lively card game as they await his arrival. The first to acknowledge Wonwoo’s presence is Dino, the youngest member of the team.

“Oh, hyung! You’re back!” Dino exclaims, his cards dropping onto the table as the rest of the crew swivel around to greet Wonwoo. Rising from his seat, Hoshi gestures for Wonwoo to join them at the table.

“A’ight… Now that all of us are here, at least the Seoul division, let’s first congratulate Wonwoo for his performance tonight,” Hoshi announces, his applause prompting the other members to follow suit with cheers of approval. Wonwoo accepts the praise with a smug smile before settling into his seat at the table.

“I told you I could do it… Choi Seungcheol really thinks he won because poor Wonwoo didn’t know his way around,” he jests, his eyes rolling playfully as laughter ripples through the group. Rising to his feet, Dino takes it upon himself to retrieve beers for everyone before resuming his place at the table. After taking a sip of his drink, Wonwoo sinks back into his chair, the tension in his muscles easing slightly. “So… What’s next?” he inquires, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Hm… Right.” Hoshi sets down his beer, reaching for his notebook and flipping it around to display the screen to the assembled members. The file on the screen contains scant details about Seungcheol’s crew. “Here’s the plan. We need you to gather intel. Gain their trust, blend in, and become one of them. DK’s orders.” Hoshi outlines, his gaze locking with Wonwoo’s as he emphasizes the importance of discretion. Wonwoo nods in solemn understanding, taking another sip of his beer as he absorbs the gravity of the task ahead. “You still need to maintain your cover by using that beat-up car as your alibi to coax S.COUPS into helping and teaching you a thing or two. You cannot afford to be discovered. Understood?”

“Got it.” Wonwoo’s response is resolute and brimming with confidence, his determination evident in his tone. Hoshi shifts his attention to the rest of the group, clicking a button to transition to the next slide on his presentation.

“Great… Now, we know Seungcheol has a stepsister… I believe the best person to try to use her would be-”

“I can do it.” Wonwoo’s assertive voice slices through Hoshi’s sentence, prompting the short-haired man to give him a thorough once-over. “I actually spoke to her today and even got her number. She thinks I’m taking her out on a date later, so… Let me handle the Chois.”

“She isn’t a Choi. Not like Seungcheol,” Hoshi murmurs, his voice carrying a note of skepticism as he closes the notebook and straightens his posture. “I’m not entirely convinced you can handle her…” His arms cross over his chest as he subjects Wonwoo to another round of scrutiny, his gaze flickering to the other members of the team, gauging their reactions before finally shrugging. “But fine. If she gave you her number, there’s potential. But no romantic feelings, Jeon. Don’t make me regret it.”

As he checks his watch and rises to his feet, Hoshi lets out a muttered curse, hastily finishing the remnants of his beer and scrambling to gather his belongings. “Now scram. It’s late and y’all still need to work tomorrow. Dino, tomorrow you’re training Jun. I need him ready by the end of the month; Metaworld is happening, and we need him since Wonwoo will likely be racing for Seungcheol’s team.”

Dino and Jun exchange nods of understanding, echoing a simultaneous “yes, sir.” “Great! Hao, you’re in charge of DK’s new car’s design. He wants something along the lines of green neon fire. Don’t ask me what or how; just get it done and send it to me when it's ready.” Snatching up his car keys, Hoshi beckons to Seungkwan, and the two of them stride purposefully toward Hoshi’s car, an eye-catching orange 2020 Dodge Charger Hellcat Redeye. “Wonwoo, you’re heading to S.COUPS’s restaurant tomorrow. I’ll text you the address. Don’t forget about it.”

And with that, the rest of the crew departed the garage, their engines roaring to life as they dispersed into the night. Wonwoo offers a casual wave goodbye to his teammates as they peel out in their respective vehicles, leaving him alone in the empty space. Retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, he quickly shoots you a text, a simple confirmation that he indeed had your number.

"No romantic feelings," he mutters to himself with a scoff, dismissing the notion as he locks his phone. But deep down, a seed of doubt lingers. Maybe he didn’t realize it yet, but the wheels of fate had already been set in motion.

He would find himself drawn to you, just as you would to him.

☆ taglist: @kwonshiho - @aaa-sia - @tootheiass - @vlbi - @soonyoonswoo - @bekah931215 - @i-lovegojo

[su8arandspite]

Show Me

Summary: When Steve and Robin bail on you, you’re left alone with Eddie for the first time and you want him to teach you how to play the guitar. But you find it hard to focus. Or, alternatively, the one in which you find out why Eddie Munson keeps handcuffs in his bedroom and what those stains on his mattress really are.

eddie munson x afab!reader, steve harrington x afab!reader (implied)

Warnings and content: 18+ mdni, smut, mentions of the ud, canon-compliant brief gore, eddie lives!post st4, alcohol and drug use, use of restraints, squirting, limited physical descriptions of reader (though I think I inferred long hair), no use of y/n, reader loves journey bc me too

A/N: i was absolutely drunk when i wrote this ngl. it’s shameless filth, and i am not sorry. this is my first good faith effort to write in second person, so y/n is used only sparingly. inspired by the fun, spicy lil details in eddie’s room. this was originally a steve x reader x eddie threesome piece but it was simply too long, so who knows, part 2??

Word count: 9.6k

divider cr: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was a Saturday night tradition. After a particularly mind-numbing shift at Family Video, you, Steve, and Robin were always in desperate need of some fun. Really, it was a miracle that Keith even let the three of you work the same shift, given the especially sloppy work you produced when presented with the distractions of your best friends. As much as you loathed Keith, you supposed you might as well use his apparent –albeit inappropriate– fondness for you to your advantage. After the first time Eddie called the store during your combined shifts, the routine formed easily: the second that the last customer left and the door was locked, the three of you piled into Steve’s BMW to meet Eddie at his trailer for a well-deserved joint or some shots of tequila, maybe a bit of both if the day was particularly unbearable.

Tonight, though, your friends seemed to have other ideas. It was Robin who first broke the routine. She burst into the store with a guilty grin and a rushed explanation about the maybe-date she had with Vicki. And, okay, you could admit that you were happy for her. The excited rush in her voice and dusting of pink in her cheeks made it hard to be too mad at Robin. Beaming, she nudged you in the arm:

“Besides, who wouldn’t want a night alone with Eddie and this dingus?”

You turned to glance at Steve, hiding the flush this brought to your cheeks. A sinking feeling settled deep within your belly as you caught sight of the giggly girl leaning her torso against the checkout counter. She batted her eyelashes at Steve, twirling her hair around her finger. You hadn’t needed to hear them to know that Steve was asking her out on another date that you were uncertain he even actually wanted to go on. For someone who claimed to hate it, Steve sure did seem to have quite a bit of mindless sex. Not that you wanted to think about Steve’s sex life, or him with his shirt off or– No. You pushed away the image before it could fully form in your mind.

“Whatever,” Turning back to Robin, you rolled your eyes. “Now, are you gonna help me restock the shelves, or should we risk leaving it for Steve?”

Chuckling, she nodded and followed you to the stockroom to grab the carts filled with the new arrivals. Both of you took one and wheeled it off to different parts of the store. You hummed to yourself as you lugged the heavy container towards the next genre. It was in the middle of your whispered rendition of “Lights” that Steve finally made his way over to help you.

He shot you a grin as he gripped the cart, taking it from you. You eyed him skeptically, raising an eyebrow:

“Someone looks happy,” you teased. “Did my tip to recommend Pretty in Pink get you a date again?”

Steve’s warm laughter filled the store over the radio playing through the loudspeakers. “That obvious, huh?”

You shrugged. Casually, you tell him: “There’s this little quirk to your lips that gives you away.”

Steve stared at you for a brief moment, surprised, but averted his gaze before you turned your torso back to him and grabbed another VHS. Shifting his weight, Steve rubbed his hand over his chin.

“Don’t worry, kid,” said Steve, unable to avoid a grin at the nickname. He gave you The Karate Kid Part II to put in the new release section. “I promise I’ll still drive you to Munson’s, okay?”

“Wait,” You paused, whirring back to gape at him. “What do you mean, ‘drive’ me? Steve, please tell me you’re not bailing, too!”

Steve broke out into a sheepish grin. You tossed your hands up in exasperation. While you busied herself with visibly pouting, you missed the knowing smirk that Steve gave in response.

You blinked at him. Robin, you understood; she’d been dancing around taking this plunge with Vicki for ages, but Steve…? Well, you didn’t know why that bothered you, but you suddenly found yourself filled with jealousy towards the stranger with her forced Valley Girl accent and ugly purple top. Unwilling to admit that, you instead focused on the other idea stirring your nerves. Robin wasn’t coming to smoke that night, nor was Steve. That just left you... And Eddie. It would be the first Saturday Smoke Nights without all four of you there. 

The thought made your tummy flip. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie– in fact, he had quickly become one of your closest friends. Still, something about the idea of spending time truly alone with him for the first time since, well, since the Upside Down, sent your heart aflutter. 

You thought about canceling the whole thing until everyone was free. Except, when you floated the idea to him, Steve wasn’t having any of it. 

“Maybe I should just call it a night, then,” you shrugged.

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “I’m driving you.”

Steve shot an odd look your way as he pushed the cart of tapes to be reshelved towards the Action section. You followed closely behind him, holding two tapes at a time and replacing them on the shelves.

That was how you found yourself sitting on Eddie’s bed while he deliberated over the two movies you had swiped from Family Video to watch that night— Airplane! or Teen Wolf. Not that you could care less; it was only a matter of time before you and Eddie weren’t sober enough to really care.

After a moment, Eddie looked up from the VHS cases with a brow quirked. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “How do you expect me to choose between two such riveting pieces of cinema?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, we had to pick something that Keith wouldn’t notice went missing.” 

Eddie shrugged. “Werewolves it is, then.”

While Eddie held up the selected tape and carried it over to the VCR player, you rose to your feet. You adjusted your skirt as you stood, pulling the plaid material a little further down over your thighs. The white tank top that you had put on before work looked more see-through than you remembered it being without the oversized green vest of your employee uniform over it. With that shedded in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, the lacy black bra which you threw on that morning popped against the white.

“Hey, Eds,” you called out. ”You got any popcorn?”

Eddie spared you a glance, a finger suspended in the air over the play button. His breath hitched at the sight of you. He wondered if you knew how good you looked or if you meant to waste it on the renters at work. Or him, for that matter. Swallowing thickly, he told you about the Jiffy Pop he had waiting for you on the stove, and stared after you once your figure disappeared from sight.

When you returned to Eddie’s bedroom, snacks and drinks in hand, he was oddly quiet. You paused for a moment, your eyes scanning his face for signs of what was going on in that head of his. You bent to set the popcorn bowl on the floor by his feet and handed Eddie a beer. The tension in the room was palpable. It pushed you to plop yourself down in the space next to him. You watched the opening credits rolling on Eddie’s shitty TV as you settled into this new position, criss-crossing your legs. 

Your palms slapped against your thighs as you rallied his attention. “Okay,” you said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get wasted.”

Eddie snickered. “Okay, princess,” he cooed. “As you wish.”

A delicious calm washed over your body as your high set in. The beer was shitty and slightly warm from not being in the trailer’s refrigerator long enough, but it was the best you two could scrounge up in Hawkins. It warmed you up and, more to the point, got the job done anyways. By the time you had a couple beers and half a joint in your system, the movie was over, and you felt more comfortable being alone with Eddie. 

Your fingers ghosted over the tops of the cases as you sifted through Eddie’s cassette collection. It took a while for you to find something familiar. You waited until Eddie was in the bathroom to switch the stereo to Journey so that he couldn’t protest the change.

You spun around the room, strumming your fingers in the air against an invisible guitar. It was in the midst of this little solo act that Eddie returned. He leaned against the doorframe so as not to disturb you, a small grin overtaking him. Eddie’s eyes flickered to your hips subconsciously as the movement swished your mini skirt upwards; the sight gave him just enough of a show to stir up tantalizing thoughts about the soft skin of your upper thighs and up until they disappeared under your panties. His impure thoughts brought a dopey smile to his face. It was then that you noticed his presence.

Upon realizing that you had been caught, your cheeks heated. A small squeak passed your lips. You stopped dancing abruptly, hair falling like a curtain over your face. 

“Please,” said Eddie. “Don’t stop on my account.” 

Suddenly shy, you shrugged. “Shit, you scared me! But,” Your lips curled into a demure smile, “I thought you were the rockstar, Eds. Wouldn’t wanna steal your limelight”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing, angel.”

You hummed. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you blurted out unfiltered thoughts:

“You know, your hair’s almost as awesome as Steve Perry’s.”

Not this again. Eddie cocked an eyebrow, “Almost?”

You shrugged, a coy smile playing over your lips. “Just a little less silky.”

Pushing your hair away from your face, you narrowed your eyes at him. You sauntered over to the bed and collapsed yourself down onto it. Your eyes flickered from his hands to his tongue as he pushed it out to wet his lips. Getting comfortable, you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs up further underneath yourself. Your hands rested patiently over your thighs as you tilted your head. 

“Hey, Eddie,” you said. “Will you teach me how to play guitar? I mean, how else am I gonna become a rockstar?”

His lips quirked up at this. “Sure,” Eddie nodded. “Most songs are three simple chords, anyways.” He lifted his hands to strum at an invisible guitar of his own. You couldn’t quite focus on his explanation with his hands moving like that.

 “Okay, teach. I’m all ears,” you looked up at him with wide eyes, leaning forward with your elbows against your thighs and chin resting in your palms.

Eddie marched over to the wall where his guitar hung in its place of honor. He slung the strap over his shoulder, grabbed a stray guitar pick from the desk and placed it between his lips, before taking center stage in the middle of the room.

“Now,” Eddie began. “First, you’ve just gotta learn three simple chords: D, C, and G.”

He positioned his fingers, one at a time, over the strings in the correct position. The tip of his tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. Even as crossfaded as you both were, Eddie wanted to impress you. After all, it wasn’t every day that he had a beautiful girl sitting on his bed, and he planned to milk the moment for all it was worth. So, he did his best to look cool and, if he was lucky, maybe you would ask him to teach you again. Eddie slowed the chord down to illustrate the correct posture. He played each of the three a few times then in succession.

“Then, when you put them all together, eventually, you get a little something like this–” Eddie strummed the iconic guitar solo of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” He thanked God for the liquid courage that allowed him to play Journey for you, like he hadn’t memorized the song just because he knew you were into them. Thank Ozzy for alcohol and weed or whatever it was that kept you from pointing out that Journey wasn’t exactly metal enough for Eddie’s usual taste.

And you meant to pay attention, you really did, but your brain turned into mush at the sight of Eddie truly in his element. You could think of nothing but the quick pace of his fingers. The thick rings he wore just on the cusp of his knuckles demanded attention. You bet they would feel cool against your skin, flushed and chest heaving, while he— pay attention. You swallowed around your cottony throat. White heat snaked up your spine as your mind wandered to thoughts of what else those skilled fingers of his could do. You shifted slightly in your seat. The room suddenly felt stuffy enough to run your mouth dry.

The sound of Eddie’s voice calling your name pulled you from her reverie. “Hmm?” Your eyes drifted slowly up to his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked your eyelashes up at him. WIth a faint smile, you tilted your cheek to rest against your shoulder. “Sorry,” you muttered. “Uh, can you show me that last one again? D, wasn’t it?”

“C, actually,” he corrected. “‘S something on your mind?”

“Oh, uh, I–“

You failed to think of an excuse, but you certainly couldn’t tell him what you were really thinking. Instead, you opened and closed your jaw, unsure.

Eddie let his hands fall to his sides. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “What’s a matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

The burst of warmth this brought to your cheeks gave him confidence. Eddie gently shrugged his guitar from around his shoulders and set it aside. You could only watch, eyes wide, as he strode your way.

He moved to sit beside you with his hands laid flat against the bed to support him, one on each side of you like a lanky cage, and his tall stature leaning over you. Eddie’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. As he leaned forward, the guitar pick which he wore around his neck swung forwards to tap against the exposed skin of your shoulder.

When you didn’t respond, Eddie continued: “You wanna know what I think?”

With Eddie so close, you struggled to think of anything at all. The weed mixed with Eddie’s cologne— since when did he wear that?— and made your head swim even faster. You barely registered the words as they left your lips, “What’s that?”

Eddie sucked his teeth, a low rumble of a chuckle rippling through his chest as he leaned in to drop his lips to your ear. His hair tickled the skin of your neck. Gooseflesh rippled over you as his hot breath met your ear, “I think you’d rather watch”

You swallowed thickly. There was little time to compose yourself, though you tried, as Eddie leaned back against his palms, flattening them to give himself a better view. The expectant way in which he looked at you made you melt like putty under his hot, hungry gaze. Eddie reveled in the way you averted your eyes, embarrassed, and knowing you’d been caught. His big brown eyes gleamed. 

Lamely, you shoved at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“That’s not a no.”

“I–“

You went to call him an asshole but lost your train of thought entirely. The quip died in your throat as a flash of something shiny in your peripheral vision caught your eye. It was your turn to smile devilishly at him as you realized what it was. 

Eddie frowned at the dip of the bed as you rose to your feet and stepped away from him. His gaze followed your saunter as you tiptoed over a copy of Heavy Metal magazine and a pile of cassette tapes to stop before the wall.

You lifted up the silver object with one finger. Turning to the boy, your lip curled devilishly into a knowing smirk. Eddie knew he should have been embarrassed or something, probably needed to come up with some plausible excuse for why he kept handcuffs in his bedroom. Maybe you would buy it if he said he was trying a hand at being an amateur magician? No, that was lame. He wanted to be a cop? Yeah, right! He certainly couldn’t tell you that he liked to use his hands in bed and, sometimes, he wanted to be the only one doing that. Could he?

“You know,” you lifted your eyes from the cuffs to meet Eddie’s. “My big brother’s a cop.”

The way that you twirled them around in circles stirred up something within Eddie. This, along with the plump pout of your lips, left Eddie suddenly very turned on. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he said lamely.

“Well, then, Eddie, baby, you should know that he also taught me a little trick about how to get out of them.” You pulled at each loop of the cuffs until the chain was taut. “Do you want me to show you how?”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare and squirm. The suggestive tone to your voice rendered him speechless. He nodded dumbly. Your lips curved upwards devilishly. Mimicking his tone from earlier, you teased: “Cat got your tongue?

“Put ‘em on for me?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He rose to his feet at your command. Your hands brushed as he took the restraints from the end of your finger. You blinked up at him expectantly as you pushed your wrists together in front of yourself. The cuffs bound your wrists as one with a resounding click. Eddie took a step back to admire his work. You looked so damn pretty with your hands all bound up for him, your wide eyes the icing on the cake.

“Wait,” Eddie shook his head. He gripped your wrists in one hand, stilling them before you had a chance to show him your trick. “Keep them on”

The mere sight of you in his cuffs made Eddie’s cock stir within his jeans.

“Perfect,” he muttered. The remark was more to himself than anything. It made you dizzy nonetheless.

Eddie didn’t know where his newfound confidence came from–the weed, maybe, or the shine in your eyes as you looked at him– but it was welcomed either way. Playful banter and a flair for the dramatics were his bread and butter, sure, but this? Flirting with you and unabashedly ogling you in his cuffs was something Eddie never saw happening outside of his perverted fantasies. Whatever pushed him to do it, he was chuffed that he had the courage to say what he did next.

His thumb and forefinger pinched your chin, lifting it upwards to force your gaze upon him. “You didn’t really want me to show you how to play the guitar, did you?” he clicked his tongue. “No, you wanted me to teach you what my fingers can do to you”

Then his thumb pushed at your mouth, tapping against your pillowy lower lip. He applied gentle pressure to it, just enough not to push its way inside. “Is that what you want, angel?” A whine rumbled deep within you. You could only nod dumbly in response. Eddie clicked his tongue, head shaking. “Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you”

“Yes.” That was all the confirmation Eddie needed. He pressed his thumb firmly so that it opened your mouth for him. Your tongue lapped at the intruder, teasingly, as you sucked him in. Eddie all but melted at the sensation and his cock responded similarly, his dirty thoughts racing with desire for that mouth of yours.

He jerked his head towards the bed. “Sit.” You obeyed readily and sat on the end of his mattress, legs dangling off the edge, and spread your knees wide for him. 

Eddie bunched your skirt up with his fists and flipped it upwards on your hips. This gave him an eyeful of skimpy lacy panties that the skirt hardly covered to begin with. Christ. A whine escaped him at the filthy sight. He pushed your thighs as wide apart as he could by the knee. His hands ghosted over your skin from the knee up to the thickest parts of your thigh. He grabbed at the fleshy part of leg just below your ass.

He pushed aside your panties with his thumb to expose your wetness to him. A slow, shaky exhale escaped him as he dragged his finger through the slick and back up to rub sloppy circles against your clit. This made your breath hitch in your throat. Your mouth hung open with the silent whine threading to spill out. 

Eddie’s Cheshire Cat grin only grew as he stretched his long fingers out to hook into the fabric of your underwear, keeping as much contact as he could with your clit, until he managed to yank them down your thighs and around the left ankle. Swiftly, and so smoothly that you didn’t even notice, he tucked the lacy material in the front pocket of his jeans. For later.

“Kiss me,” your voice sounded like a true angel whispering to him. His nickname for you had never felt more apt.

Eddie’s fingers never ceased on your clit as he dipped his head down to press his lips against your cheek. He mumbled a slew of praises and compliments against your skin as he mapped a trail along your jawbone to your neck, pausing to suckle a deep hickey on the jugular and ghost against your clavicle. Only when his name passed your saccharine lips did he give you what you wanted and press his mouth hungrily to yours.

As you melted into his touch, you breathed a happy sigh against him. You kissed every last inch of nerves and desire away into his waiting mouth. Eddie swallowed it readily. His mind buzzed with the hazy static of lust and illicit substances until he could no longer hear Steve Perry’s voice thrumming in the background. He thought maybe his heart was going to take flight. Deep unfiltered want drove Eddie as he added a second and third finger to your clit and increased the pace. He blinked through heavy lids as you twitched involuntarily at the sheer pleasure.

From the moment he laid eyes on you, Eddie was a hopeless fool for you. You were exactly the beautiful, smart, warm breath of air that he needed. His heart ached for you with each brush of your hands as you both reached for a kernel of popcorn from the same bowl during movie nights with your friends. That had been enough for him up until now; Eddie would take as much or as little of you as you wanted to offer him. Even if tonight turned out to be just another one of his elaborate fantasies, he’d die a happy man—he seemed to have more and more vivid images of you in all your sunny glory as of late, the filthy thoughts flooding his mind in the quiet moments when he was truly alone and his hand wandered on its own accord towards the waistband of his underwear. He had it bad for you, and Eddie didn’t want it any other way.

Though you couldn’t reach your hands up to card through his hair as you so desperately wanted to, you caught his attention just the same with nothing but those sweet lips of yours. He chased after your touch as you pulled away from the kiss, head shaking just faintly. The buck of your hips against him spoke for you.

Only, instead of taking your lead, his touch left you altogether. Eddie stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes, awestruck. His fingers drew shapes over your clavicle, inching over to your shoulder. The band of your bra strap snapped as he lifted it and let it flick back into place. Eddie hooked his finger under it once more but made no further moves.

“Can I?”

“Please,” you nodded.

Eddie pushed the straps off your shoulders, taking the tank top down with them. Gently, he propped you up enough to get the fabric up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him. With the dip of his head, Eddie leaned down to kiss the swell of your breasts just above the lace of the bra you wore, as he reached behind you to unclasp it once and for all. Before you knew it, that too was long forgotten. You laid bare on Eddie’s mattress, covered only with your skirt that was still bunched up around your hips.

He cupped your face in his hands. Your stomach flipped at the thrill of feeling your own arousal against your cheek. His voice and his grip forced your eyes on his.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled. “A goddamn vision.”

There was an unmistakable fondness in his voice that made you feel warm inside with an emotion you couldn’t name. It only grew as he snaked one hand down your stomach and towards your core again, the other kneading your breast.

Ripples of pleasure rolled through you as he returned his thumb to its rightful place against your clit and pinched your nipples, rolling each between his fingers one at a time. You whimpered, hips bucking, and craving more and more of him.

The grin on his lips only grew at your silent begging. He lifted his hand, spitting on his fingertips, before bringing it back down to your dripping sex. It made an obscene sound as he gathered some of your arousal for good measure, toying with your entrance.

Slowly, Eddie pushed the very tip of his middle finger inside of you. His ring finger soon followed, and he twisted his wrist so that his palm now faced the ceiling. You writhed under him, craving more, but were unable to find it; his other hand gripped harshly at your hip to keep you in place. Only once he had you good and still did he push his fingers deeper. The thick rings he wore were cool against the fluttering heat of your body. He curled his fingers deliciously upwards. They only just brushed against your most pleasurable spot at first, leaving you just out of reach, teased.

You babbled at him. The sound of your own voice begging sounded far away, “Eddie, Eds, please”

Who was he to refuse you? “Well,” Eddie tutted. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Eddie knelt with his thighs pushed up against the mattress. He was close enough that your Achilles’ tendon brushed over the tattered denim of his jeans. But you wanted him closer yet. He still felt so very far away. Just as you mustered the core strength to pull yourself up without the aid of your hands, he moved his free hand from your hips to splay over your lower stomach, just above the pubic bone. It forced you back against the mattress, dumbfounded. You were fully at his mercy as he worked to fuck his fingers into you. They pushed slowly inside of you, down to the base and out again at a snail’s pace. He pushed them in faster, this time, only to the knuckle and curling them.

The added pressure of his hand on your stomach coupled with the speed of his movements ensured that every move hit you in a way that left you breathless. Eddie seemed to know your body like it was his, quickly finding the spongy area inside you that made your mind empty save the pleasure he was giving you. It was an electric spark that spread from your very core and threatened to burn you to pieces. You gasped at the sensation– a weak little sound that faded out into silent cries of pleasure.

And oh was that just the thing Eddie had been needing to hear all night. His own breath quickened as he doubled his efforts. The pace at which he thrusted his fingers was brutal and delicious. You mewled, unable to form a coherent thought that didn’t include Eddie and his magic fingers.

Each curl of his fingers caused the exposed skin under his tattoos to flex, and it looked so hot. Your eyes were drawn to the way his veins popped with the movement, and the sight nearly had you drooling. Every one of your senses was overwhelmed with him: his touch was unlike anything you could have anticipated, the shaky, aroused breaths that escaped him and the pornographic squelching sound of his fingertips each time he thrusted them into you made you dizzy, and you turned your head to whine into the mattress and breathed in his scent like it was pure oxygen. Eddie was everything. 

Your toes curled and your legs began to shake. “Eddie, ‘m gonna– fuckk, I–“

“Yeah?” He tutted. “Let go, sweetheart.”

His soothing voice and unrelenting cadence made it difficult for you to focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. The tugging warmth of your orgasm that had been building surged until it was all-encompassing; intense pleasure slammed you all at once. Every ounce of tension left your body as you came around his fingers.

Eddie kept his fingers tapped against just the right spot as you rode out your orgasm. He lazily rubbed the heel of his hand against your very sensitive clit. Unable to help himself, he palmed at his erection with the other as he watched you come undone. 

You’d had orgasms before, but never anything remotely like what Eddie was doing to you. The familiar knot in your stomach was there as it built, but it was accompanied by something else— another type of pressure that was foreign to you. He left you no time to dwell on it, because you were coming before you could even really process it. When you finally did, it was a release unlike any other.

You hardly noticed it at first, but once you started to return to your senses, you felt something wet between your thighs that hadn’t been there before. Leaning up, you tried to get a glance at it. Your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed, as you saw what a mess you’d made. The bedsheets and—oh, God— Eddie’s forearm and parts of his pants were soaked. 

When you managed to look at him again, locking eyes, he was smug. There was no sign of disgust or surprise anywhere. He looked proud, almost.

“Eddie,” you said, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what… I’ve never done that before.”

Only you weren’t entirely sure what it was that Eddie had done to you, just that it was the most intense euphoria in the world.

He smiled at you in a way that made it hard for you to feel insecure. Like you were a work of art; his masterpiece, even. Eddie rubbed his clean hand against your cheek, gently stroking your skin with his thumb.

“It’s okay, angel,” he reassured you. “You’ve never squirted before?“

You hesitated. The term sounded vaguely familiar to you, like maybe you’d once heard your girlfriends whispering about it, but you didn’t think it was real. Hell, no other boy you’d ever been with had even come close to making you orgasm at all, so this was entirely uncharted territory. It left you wondering where the hell Eddie fucking Munson had been hiding those skills all this time.

“No,” you shook your head. “But it felt really good.”

“I’m glad,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the blooming hickey he sucked on your neck earlier. “Just wanna make you feel so good. Such a good girl.”

He breathed in your scent like he was trying to commit it to memory. Eddie stayed with his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck for only a moment. He was leaning back up all too soon.

Finally, Eddie pulled his fingers from you and held them up to the light. His lips curved as he admired the way your slick glistened, thick as he separated his index and middle fingers. A deep hum left him as he lifted his hand to his waiting mouth and licked them clean. 

“You taste so fuckin’ amazing,” he groaned.

“Yeah?” You asked, though your head still swam with the haze of your orgasm.

“Think it might be my new favorite dessert,” he confirmed.

Your heart flipped. Though you assumed he was only teasing, Eddie knew just what to say to render you speechless. You couldn’t get enough.

Eddie lowered himself onto the mattress next to you. As he propped himself up by the elbow, he brushed some hair from your face. His umber eyes were dark with lust-blown pupils.

Though your cheeks still burned, you grinned mischievously as a memory creeped up on you. It was probably something you should have forgotten, what with everything you had all been through since March of 1986, but you could still hear Eddie clear as day in your mind, see his doe eyes widen as he glanced nervously at you over Robin’s shoulder:

“Those stains are, uh… I don’t know what those stains are”

Gently, you nudged Eddie to get his attention, as if there were anywhere or anything else in the world that it would be.

“So,” you locked eyes with him. “That’s what those stains are, huh?”

Eddie chuckled. It was a full belly laugh that had his shoulders shaking in amusement. He shook his head fondly at you.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what the stains are.”

Well, that and bong water, —mostly the latter— but he thought it sounded more impressive if you thought of him as some sort of sex god.

You hummed in recognition. 

Eddie smiled at you. He gripped the hem of his shirt in his fingers and toyed with it, chewing on his lower lip. 

“You know,” he said. “I’m feelin’ a little overdressed here, don’t ya think?”

“You are entirely overdressed.”

You’re unable to fight off a smile. Eddie sat up again and reached to pull his shirt up and over his head. It fell in a heap beside the mattress. As he started on his belt, you let your eyes take in the marvelous sight of him.

His skin was pale and his long torso seemed to go on forever. The black ink of his tattoos and healed scars popped against his flesh, the largest of which spanned across his stomach, just over the naval, and blended into the beginnings of his happy trail.

Eddie and you had never discussed that fateful night in the Upside Down. It was easier that way than to admit  your nightmares were still mostly plagued by the overwhelming fear you’d felt as you and Dustin carried his limp body back to the base camp in that stolen RV and in the weeks you spent nursing him back from the brink of death. Eddie’s heart slowed to a pace so imperceptible he swore it had stopped and, for the briefest of moments, he was on the other side. He knew he should have died that day and that, really, he supposed a part of him had. 

Perhaps for the first time since then, Eddie didn’t feel nervous or hesitant to reveal himself, scars and all, to someone else. Because it was you, after all. You, who had cursed at him through teary eyes for his monumentally stupid need to play hero and had somehow managed to remain calm enough to stem the bleeding, then scoured through the vehicle for something to sew him up with. It had been you who shooed Dustin out of the room, at least enough to shield the boy from the gruesome sight of your shaky hands as they crudely stitched him back together well enough to last until Steve and Robin and the others returned to regroup. He knew then, even in his weakest state, that he was in trouble because the flutter of your eyelashes made his sluggish heart ache.  As he looked at you now, your eyes blinking up at him, Eddie realized he never stood a fighting chance when it came to you. He supposed it was impossible not to fall in love with you, the angel who had saved his life, as he drifted in and out of consciousness. And every moment since then. He had called you his angel ever since.

You kissed a trail from the scars by his chest, down his tummy, and the one that disappeared under his boxer briefs. His skin was warm but erupted into goosebumps at your touch. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as you craned your neck further down to peck an open-mouthed kiss where the head of his aching cock strained against the fabric.

Suddenly, he’s stopping you. Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks, gently pushing your face away from him. The flash of hurt in your eyes must have been clear because he immediately softened his gaze, stroking your face lovingly with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong?” Confused, you glanced from the tent in his groin back to his eyes. “Do you not want to?”

“No!” Eddie cut you off, maybe a little too quickly and too loudly. He cleared his throat to recover, playing it off as a cough. “No, believe me, I really do. Fuck, if I’m bein’ honest, angel, I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you in that boathouse. But, right now, I just really want to taste you. It’s a need, actually”

Eddie wasn’t done with you yet. No, tonight, he wasn’t letting up until he made his sweet little angel come against his lips, clenching around his fingers, and, finally, around his cock. Only then, after he took everything you had to give, would Eddie allow himself to come.

This confession rendered you speechless. A meek oh was all you could make out. Though he smiled down at you, a hunger swirled in his eyes that had you feeling he wanted to swallow you whole, and God, you wished that he would. 

Even so, he made no further moves to act on it. His hands itched as he slid them from your face, down your chest and waist, before gripping at your thighs. He tilted his head, blinking expectantly at you. 

“So, uh, can I? Eat you out?”

“Fuck, yes,” you nodded. “I’d be offended if you didn’t, now.”

Eddie didn’t waste another second. He pressed himself down against the mattress, lowering his face closer to the apex of your thighs, and tightened his grip on your flesh, swiftly yanking you closer to his waiting lips. They were wet and warm as he peppered kiss after kiss up the insides of both your upper thighs, nipping at the soft skin there. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you wiggled your hips to chase his touch.

His breath hit your sopping core as he let out a quiet chuckle. Eddie nudged his nose foreword, just barely brushing it against the hood of your clit, dragging it down to your wetness.

He hummed, “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Eddie, I swear to–“

Your empty threat dissolved as he relented. Eddie shifted his grip to spread your lips open for him, thighs now caged in the crooks of his elbows. It’s when he wrapped his lips around your clitoris that the shock of pleasure shot through your spine and took the words from you. He sighed into your core and let himself push closer to it, almost smothering himself. 

Eddie intermittently flitted his tongue out as he suckled at your clit. His mouth worked at the perfect rhythm and if you’d had the presence of mind to listen past the hammering of your heart in your chest, you would have been able to make out the tune he was humming; ‘Open Arms’ was surely for your benefit. 

With his arms wrapped tightly around your hips, you had no choice but to ignore the urge to buck your hips against him. You got only what Eddie gave you, and good God, would you take every last ounce of pleasure hungrily.

After what could have been minutes, hours, or mere seconds —you couldn’t tell— Eddie broke his lips’ seal from your clit and let his nose take their place against it as he breathed out. He’s only off of you long enough to let out a low rumbling chuckle, asking: “Hm, what was that, angel?” 

But you’re unable to answer him, because Eddie’s reattaching his lips to you and sucking with more intention than before. You couldn’t remember what you were saying even if you wanted to. Your mind was wiped of everything outside of him. Eddie Eddie Eddie. Your thoughts were a chorus of his name and him only. Eddie!

You had little presence of mind left to be embarrassed about it, as your second orgasm snuck up faster than the first. You were already close, barely able to contain your whines and sweet sighs any longer. Eddie seemed to sense this, and shifted his right hand from his death grip on your thighs—which would surely bruise, you noted with a twinge of excitement—and prodded two of his fingers at your entrance.

He licked lazily at your clit between words, remarking, “Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

He plunged his fingers inside finally, curving them again to find the spot he’d discovered earlier. His lips had only just returned to their rightful spot around your clit when your release hit you.

 Eddie didn't let up on his suckling until you were still again, a broken sound falling from your lips. You pushed at his head as best as your restraints allowed, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation. “‘S too much, Eds,” you pleaded.

He pulled himself away with a wet smack of his lips. Eddie wiped your arousal from his face with the back of his hand, though not without sucking it clean off his fingers. The grin he gives you is a delicate mix of devilish and heavenly.

Eddie crawled up the bed, long, alabaster torso towering over you as he planted his knees at either side of you. His fingers fanned out over your face and cupped your cheeks.

“You okay?” His eyes softened.

“More than okay,” you assured with a breathy giggle.

“Good,” Eddie said.

You could barely think. Not with your body still humming from your earth-shattering orgasm and not with Eddie’s big Bambi eyes blinking at you with such softness and deep affection. It made you feel like you were being seen for the very first time. 

He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips. It was gentler than before and he tasted of your slick, a fact that elicited a soft groan from your chest. Eddie swallowed it up. His guitar-calloused thumb stroked your cheek as he titled his head to deepen the kiss. It was passionate, sensual, and every brush of his tongue against yours stoked the butterflies in your tummy. There was a certain sweetness behind it, too, that you weren’t used to. The type of need that Eddie was oozing ran far deeper than lust alone.

It was Eddie who broke the kiss, panting to catch his breath and nuzzling his nose against your cheek. His cheeks swelled as he broke out into the fondest of smiles. You softened under the weight of his heady gaze.

Your entire body ached for him. Eddie may have been content to focus on your pleasure all night long, but you thought you might die if you didn’t get the privilege of returning that favor. 

Growing impatient, you were desperate to make Eddie feel good. You straddled Eddie as smoothly as you could, settling yourself in his lap. You locked eyes with him and kept your gaze steady as you pressed your dripping core harder into his erection, slowly dragging it for friction as much as his grip would allow. A low growl came from him as he blinked up at you with his wide chocolate eyes. A greedy hand grabbed at your ass, as the other lifted your wrists to his face. Eddie pecked soft kisses to your knuckles, the heel of your palm, and just above the metal cuffs. He pulled back just enough to see you properly, still stroking your hands with his.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he told you. Eddie’s smile never wavered. It had been a joke, but he meant it; part of him wouldn’t mind if you ripped his lovesick little heart from his chest and never bothered to give it back. He would let you with a smile.

He was painfully hard; you could feel it with every rock of your hips against his. The deep ache within him felt like your own, like every throb of his cock was your heartbeat.

“Eddie,” you whined. “Baby, please, I wanna make you feel good now”

Something inside his head short-circuited at the filthy words leaving your sweet, vanilla-scented lips. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered to himself. With a heavy swallow, Eddie nodded. He gripped your hips tightly.

His thumb drew mindless shapes against your skin. “Think you can handle more?”

“Mhmm,” a breathy moan escaped you at the feeling of his cock twitching beneath you.

“Tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You gave a single nod, “Yes. I will– just, please, Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

Eddie planted a searing kiss to your lips. He pulled you from his lap and set you down on the bed next to him. You watched with awe as he finally pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them away. A rush of want swam around your head and in your core as you took in the heavenly sight of his nude form for the first time. 

You truly weren’t prepared for just how perfect he was. The tip of his dick was a needy red, painfully erect, and dripping with pre-come; the length curved to the left and was just the right girth.

The kiss he pressed to your lips once he’d fully stepped out of his jeans was sweet and short. He kicked the fabric aside and leaned further into you, gently using the force of the kiss to guide you back against the mattress. Eddie’s left hand pushed your cuffed wrists over your head, where he wanted them, while he pumped himself a few times with his right.

“Ready, angel?” He asked. 

This time, Eddie accepts the slow nod you give him. He tapped his tip against your swollen clit, lips curling devilishly at the whine that escaped you. Tease. Eddie gave you very little time to feel sorry for yourself before giving you what you needed.

With one slow, measured movement of his hips, Eddie thrusted fully forward. He planted his palms against the mattress to hold himself up and get better control. His breathing was shallow and ragged, eyes squeezing shut, at the feeling of your pussy adjusting and stretching to accommodate the curve of him. The stretch was a sweet ache, and you’d never felt so full. If you’d thought Eddie was everywhere before, he was the only thing now.

His hips pistoned into you at an unrelenting pace. After so long of ignoring his own need, Eddie chased any relief he could get. And this, burying himself balls-deep inside you, was better than any drug in existence; it made him feel like a virgin all over again. A string of expletives left his lips that would have confused you if you had enough presence of mind to pay attention.

Eddie lifted your hips further up, twisting just so to ensure every pump slammed into you at just the right spot. It knocked the breath out of you until your lungs burned with every gasp and whine. The curve of his cock was made for you, made to fit right against your g-spot with every pass. 

You thought of running your fingers through his hair. But, of course, when you pulled at the handcuffs, you were unable to get at him. A deep chuckle rumbled in Eddie’s chest that stoked a fire within you and reminded you exactly why you had plucked them from their hook in the first place.

Your third orgasm loomed at a rate that must have been some sort of record. Eddie had you too cock drunk to care, though. It was like you were floating and a lucid part of your brain wondered if the heat of your pleasure had set you ablaze and you were watching yourself from above. 

Eddie lifted himself away from you enough to get a good look at every inch of you— your plush lips parted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes glistening and pupils blown wide, the bounce of your breasts in time with his thrusts, the way his hand looked as he splayed it wide over your lower stomach, meeting just over where his cock hit your walls. He did his best to commit every last detail to memory.

His thrusts became sloppier, nearly stuttering, with the way your walls tightened. 

“You close?” He managed, but it wasn’t much of a question. “Come on, good girl, come f’r me, just one more. That’s it”

As if your words summoned it, you spasmed and contracted around him with your third and final orgasm. Your back arched clear off the mattress like a woman possessed, weak and held up largely by Eddie’s tight grip and where he was still fucking into you. The squeeze of your cunt around him was too much, and Eddie let out a guttural groan of your name as he came. His come was warm and foreign inside you.

Eddie collapsed onto you, the last of his strength he had been using to keep both of you upright finally giving out. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, panting into your sweaty skin until he caught his breath again. 

“Well,” he muttered. “Fuck. That was… fuck.” You chuckled in response and Eddie lifted his heavy head, not willing to miss a single second of it. “Yeah,” you agreed.

Eddie slowly leaned down to your bound wrists, pressing a kiss to the sore skin. 

“Here,” he helped you slowly sit upright in the bed. He pressed one last peck to your temple, then finally peeled himself away from you and his damp bed sheets. Eddie glanced around his room, ready to retrieve the key and free you, when your sweet voice pulled him back to you.

“So,” a playful smile spreaded over your lips. “You still wanna see that trick?”

Eddie hummed. He turned back to you, pulling his boxers back up to rest lowly on his hips with his eyes locked on you. His heart skittered as you blinked up at him.

“Ta-da!” you lifted your now-empty wrist to show off.

Your trick was impressive. Sure enough, you had freed your wrists from the bounds and the second cuff dangled from the chain, tapping against your forearm. If anything, it only made Eddie’s heart swell with the knowledge that you could have gotten yourself out of it at any time but you hadn’t, for him.

“Color me impressed,” he said.

Chuckling, you leaned in to him. Eddie keened, melting against the gentle touch of your newly-freed fingers against his face. Slowly, you pressed your lips to Eddie’s. The kiss was lazy, slow, and heavy. Your lungs burned as she breathed him in.

The unmistakable glow of headlights shined through the curtains as someone pulled up to the new Munson trailer. It was enough to break the delicate bubble of you and Eddie’s post-coital bliss.

Eddie grumbled, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. You lifted yourself to pull the fabric aside, taking a peek at who had pulled up. Panic inched up your spine as you recognized the car. 

“Shit,” you whispered. “Shit, Eds, it’s Steve.”

The headlights cut off, and you sprang to action. In your haste, you hadn’t paid any attention to where your clothing ended up. Your knees nearly buckled under your weight as you stood. With burning cheeks, you hushed Eddie’s cackle and could practically see his self-satisfied smirk without turning to look at him.

With Steve only moments away from catching you in far too compromising a position, you yanked your shirt as far down your hips as it would go and decided that would have to do; you couldn’t see your panties anywhere and you had no time to hunt them. Eddie, who seemed to have no trouble redressing himself, tossed your tank top to you. It was just over your head as you heard three telltale raps at the door to the trailer. 

Eddie’s long legs allowed him to rush ahead of you and lead the way to answer the door. His grin didn’t dull one bit.

“Relax, angel,” he assured you. “It’s just Steve.”

You really weren’t sure if that made you feel any better or it was somehow worse. Eddie’s touch burned as he slung an arm around your shoulders and you weren’t able to think about it any longer. 

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed at the younger man as he stepped inside the trailer.

Steve offered him an odd look at the uncharacteristically chipper tone but pushed past the pair of you and continued his beeline to the kitchen. He grumbled under his breath as he yanked open the fridge. Steve snatched the last cold beer and slammed it shut after himself.

You shared a brief glance with Eddie. Raising an eyebrow, you asked:

“I take it your date went well?”

Steve groaned again. Even his hair looked sad, drooping, as he shook his head. He opened the can and took a heavy swig. It told you everything you needed to know about his latest failed attempt at romance.

“That bad, huh?”

Eddie’s laugh is maybe a little louder than he meant for it to be, but there was no malice in his voice. Only then, as he set his beer down on the counter, did Steve properly look at you and Eddie for the first time since he arrived. It took him longer than it should have to notice something was off. When he eventually did, though, Steve’s jaw lowered. He blinked at his friends a few times as if he had somehow imagined it. 

You were worse for wear. Where you had it neatly styled when he dropped you off, your hair was tousled and messy, tank top askew on your torso. The thin fabric did little to hide your pert nipples from his sight and, holy shit, was that a hickey? Your lips were kiss-bitten and swollen, a matching set to Eddie’s, complete with spit and the gloss of your vanilla lip sheen. But all of that was nothing compared to when his gaze lowered towards your thighs. Steve struggled to look away, though he knew he should, but he was mesmerized with the sight of Eddie’s cum dripping down your thigh.

Only then, when he could still clearly see the single handcuff clasped around your wrist with its counterpart dangling at your side, did Steve say anything.

“It smells like sex in here.”

When no one responded, Steve trudged on:

“Were you two just– oh!”

Steve’s chocolate eyes widened slowly with the realization. 

You glanced over to lock eyes with Eddie. He barked out another laugh, his dimples popping with amusement.

“Sorry, Stevie,” he teased. “You just missed the show.”

Your fist didn’t even budge him as you smacked Eddie square in the chest for his lewd comment. He gently caught your wrist and snaked your fingers around his to hold your hand.

“Wait,” Steve flitted his eyes between you and Eddie. He called your name softly. “Is this why you didn’t want me to drive you here?”

“No!” You shook your head. “No, I just, uh, didn’t want you to feel like you had to or anything.”

Steve knit his eyebrows. “You’re never a burden, kid.”

Steve’s pretty face pinkened as he took in your disheveled appearance once more. You pulled uselessly at your skirt, as if it might grow longer. He hadn’t noticed he was staring until you squirmed under the heat of his gaze.

Eddie slung his arm around your shoulders easily, pulling you close. Cocking an eyebrow, he called, “Aw, Harrington, you’re just jealous I got to her first.”

“Wait, what?” You glanced between the two boys, brow furrowing.

The glances they shared conveyed some secret conversation you didn’t understand. You raised your brows, asking one of them to clue you in on their little secret.

Steve didn’t deny it when Eddie spoke for him:

“He thinks you’re pretty,” he batted his eyelashes at you, teasing.

“Fuck off, Eddie,” Steve whined. He turned to you, dipping his chin shyly. “But I, uh, yeah.”

It was just a fact. You were beautiful, and Steve didn’t see why he should have to pretend that was a secret.

Your stomach flipped. 

“Okay, well,” you stepped out of Eddie’s grasp and towards Steve. You picked his beer up from the counter and drank from it. Gently, you squeezed his shoulder and grinned. “Thanks for the ride, Steve.”

Steve’s pretty face darkened to scarlet, sparkly eyes blinking rapidly. He swallowed thickly and muttered out a weak response. You had them both watching your every movement as you carried the beer towards the living room.

“Now,” you called over your shoulder. “Who wants to watch a movie?”

You smirked into the beer as the boys scrambled to race each other to the couch, arguing amongst themselves about who got to sit next to you. Mentally, you decided you needed to thank Robin for ditching you tonight.

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

2/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties

W/c: 3.8k

You’re late. You’re really late. Not even just an ‘oh I got stuck in traffic I’ll be there late”. You’re the “I hope my daughter doesn’t hate me and harbor those feelings the rest of her life late.” As you bob and weave through traffic in your BMW SUV you curse to yourself. You feel stupid. Very stupid. There’s no way you can ever make up for this but you can certainly try to.

As you pull onto the street of what was once your home you squint just a little to see how many people are still there. You can see the cars lining the street start to dissipate as you pull into the driveway. Natasha is on the porch talking to one of the people you recognize from Emma’s dance class. She spots you, rolling her eyes and angling herself, so you’re not in her vision. Parking the car, you look over to the passenger’s seat where Emma’s gift is wrapped in yellow paper (her favorite color) and a bright pink bow. You turn the car off with a sigh. You really did it this time. You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach over to grab the present and exit. You walk slowly up the pathway marveling at all of the decorations that Natasha has put up for Emma’s fifth birthday.

Five. Your baby girl is five and you’ve missed her birthday party. One Natasha had gracefully invited you to. Briefly, your mind flashes back to the mornings where you and Natasha would wake the little girl up with breakfast in bed. Mini pancakes, strawberries, her favorite juice. You would go the whole nine yards for her. Now you’ve done everything but that. You reach the edge of the steps with a small wave to Natasha’s guests.

“Kerry, Doug, nice to see you again.” You give them a tight smile hoping to appear calm even though don’t feel that way.

“I’ll call you,” Natasha says bidding them goodbye. She doesn’t speak until they’re down the path and in their car. She trails her eyes over to you still in your work clothes with an apologetic look on your face. “Unbelievable.” She scoffs turning to go inside the house. You follow after her with an apology at the tip of your tongue. She starts collecting the trash she sees around the living room.

“I’m sorry, I got sidetracked at work,” You begin.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” She shrugs. Pushing her hair behind her ear she glances at you. “I’m not the one turning five and I’m not your wife.” Something about the last part of that statement strikes you right in the heart. The divorce has been finalized for eight months now. Eight months and you’ve barely seen each other. Only during pickups and drop-offs. Even then you barely speak. Hearing her voice is...nice. Even if she is angry with you.

“I know but I’m really making an ass of myself,” You shake your head. “Where is she?”

“Backyard,” She answers.

“She must hate me,” You mutter more to yourself.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Natasha walks to the kitchen and again you follow. “She’s just really confused on why her Mommy said she would be here and wasn’t.” She gives another wave to one of the last guests and they trickle out of the house.

“Yeah,” You say following closely behind her. She stuffs the trash into the bin carefully.

As she stands to her full height you take a second to look at her. She’s gorgeous. Her hair flows behind her back longer than she’s ever let herself allow it to. Her eyes are just as expressive and beautiful. God, you’ve missed her.

You open your mouth to speak but you’re interrupted when a familiar figure steps into view. Richard Matthews. An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Natasha’s new partner. He accompanies the Avengers on missions every now and again. You’re not exactly sure why but he’s always paired up with Natasha on missions and it never really bothered you until now.

“Everything’s all set with the kiddos,” Richard says to her. He completely ignores you and you can’t really tell if that’s intentional. The way he steps into Natasha’s space makes you think they’re closer than she’s letting on. “Emma’s having a blast with the new American doll I got. Says she’s gonna sleep with it tonight.” He smiles down at Natasha. “Will you be okay here? Ryan helped me with a lot of the backyard so there’s not much else to clean.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Natasha nods glancing over at you. She can see how uncomfortable Richard makes you feel. “Thank you, Richard.” She raises her hand to rest lightly on his bicep. You narrow your eyes. Clearing your throat they both look towards you.

“Oh, y/n, I didn’t see you there.” Richard feigns innocence.

“I’m sure you didn’t, Dick.” You say with every ounce of disdain. You can see Natasha’s lips quirk in amusement but she quickly hides it.

“Well, I’m gonna go.” He says before giving her a kiss on the cheek. He lingers before walking past you towards the front door. You two don’t break eye contact until he’s gone.

“That guy is a real tool,” You roll your eyes.

“He’s nice and he’s a part of the team.” Natasha shrugs. She steps over to the sink to do the dishes giving you the idea that this entire conversation is over. You want to ask her if she’s seeing him. If he’s more than just her partner. You’re not entitled to any of those answers and Natasha won’t be afraid to tell you.

“I’m just gonna go,” You wave the gift in your hand heading towards the back door. Once you’re out there you finally exhale. From the porch, you can see the giant pink bounce castle that both of your children are currently playing in. You go down the steps content to watch them for a moment. It’s Ryan who spots you first. Before all of this, he would have scrambled out of the bounce house to meet you halfway. Instead, he just stands there.

“Mommy!” Emma breaks you from your trance flopping onto her bottom. She slides out of the bounce house to run into your arms. You catch her twirling around in your arms. “You came!”

“I did, baby girl.” You kiss both of her cheeks.

“You missed my party though,” She reminds you.

“I know, Mommy’s so sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Emma forgives you. She wraps her arms tightly around your neck again.

“I got you something,” You jiggle the box in your hand. She leans back to inspect it her eyes widening. “Let’s go ahead and open it.” You let her down to stand on her own two feet. She takes your hand dragging you over to the picnic table on the other side of the yard. She’s small so it takes her a minute to sit correctly but when she does she beams up at you. Her socked feet swing underneath the table as she waits for you to hand her the present. You place it in front of her and take your spot next to her. She doesn’t hesitate to rip into the paper tossing the bow somewhere in the grass behind her. You can hear the sound of someone sliding out of the bounce house and you look over to see Ryan stepping closer.

“Hey bud,” You greet.

“Hi,” He says softly. You raise an arm beckoning him over to come to give you a hug. He presses himself against you as you hold him close. “I missed you.” He mumbles into your neck. Through this entire divorce, your relationship with him has been strained. Everything has been strained.

“I missed you too.” You whisper back. You give him a soothing kiss on his head. He doesn’t let you go as you both watch Emma to see her reaction.

“Wow!” She says pulling the last pieces of paper from the gift. She turns the box over and over in her hands. “I got a watch!” It’s not some fancy watch. You’re not that out of touch with reality. It’s an Apple watch. The most she can do on the thing is take pictures, use the phone features, and use a calculator. She loves it all the same as she hugs the box to her. After hearing what Richard got her you were apprehensive about it being enough. Sitting here watching her cherish this gift you know you picked correctly. “Can I call you on it?” You nod. “Every night?” You nod again. “Cool!” She cheers.

There’s a squeak coming from the back door and you know Natasha has come to the back porch.

“Can I go show Mama?” She asks you.

“Go, show her.” She turns from the picnic table rushing over to Natasha to show off her cool new present. Natasha looks down at the box and then back to you with a raise of her brow. She doesn’t share in Emma’s excitement but she tells the girl how cool it is.

“How are you doing?” You turn your focus to Ryan. He shrugs. “You sure?” He nods silently.

“Ryan, come on, it’s almost bedtime,” Natasha says. “I want to check your backpack before the night is over.” She ushers Emma inside.

“Guess we better go and check those backpacks.” You say rising to your feet. Ryan clasps your hand in his and you both move to walk inside of the house. It’s there Natasha is setting up Emma’s watch. “Patience, Printsessa.” Natasha scolds lightly. She presses a few buttons on the screen.

“Can Mommy stay for bath time?” Emma asks innocently. Your eyes fly to Natasha’s. You haven’t done that in a while.

“Please?” Ryan joins in. Natasha’s resolve is broken as she gives a meek “yes.” The children cheer in unison.

Guess you’re staying for bedtime.

This takes almost two hours to get both children through their nightly routine. Emma is more reluctant to fall asleep as she doesn’t want to miss you leaving. You tuck her into bed with a kiss and a promise to see her again soon. She pulls the American girl doll under the covers with her. You wait for her to fall asleep before leaving her room. Ryan is next and he’s much easier. He climbs into bed all on his own with his back turned to you. He’s conflicted and you being here is not making it easy on him. You sit on the bed beside him. You press a kiss to the back of his head.

“I love you,” You say before reaching over to turn off his lamp. You exit his room leaving his door cracked. You amble down the hallway to the stairs. You find Natasha in the front room gathering all of Emma’s new presents that she would put into their proper place later.

“Thanks for letting me stay to tell them goodnight,” You say awkwardly.

“Don’t mention it,” She dismisses tossing the last of the toys into a pile. The house is pretty much clean now save for the leftovers she has to put away. She’s not kicking you out as you follow her down the same path into the kitchen.

“Natasha,” You begin. stopping yourself when you realize you don’t really have anything to say. “Thank you for inviting me. I know you didn’t have to do that. I feel like a jerk. Especially with how things have been going.”

“How have things been going?” Natasha busies herself with pushing the leftovers into whatever Tupperware they can fit into. She curses turning to look for a lid for this particular bowl. “Where is it?” She searches.

“Bottom right cabinet,” You inform her. She pauses before moving over to search the cabinet you gave her. She finds what she is looking for and turns back to the food.

“Things have been going good.” You continue your earlier conversation. “Work is work. My mom is doing well. She sends her love. I can’t complain.” You watch her stuff the fridge full.

“Well I’m glad things are going well for one of us,” She slams the door of the fridge a bit harder than intended. “Not all of us are able to abandon our motherly duties.”

“Natasha, I’m trying my best here.” You say immediately knowing what she means.

“That’s what pisses me off the most,” She says exasperatedly. “They’re so good with you just trying. They don’t care how many times you mess up. They don’t care if you don’t do something. They don’t care if you’re having a bad day and you’re doing everything to make them happy. They don’t care if you don’t show up for their goddamn birthdays but it’s me that get’s the brunt of the madness and the anger.” She slams her hands against the counter. Running her hand through her hair, she shakes her head. “Do you know Ryan got into a fight at school the other day? He’s been...angry these days. I’m considering seeing a therapist with them.” She nods to herself. “Emma’s been giving me hell too. I wouldn’t allow her to watch tv one night because I dislike them having so much free time. She threw a tantrum.” She swallows thickly. “She told me, she told me she hates me and that she wishes she could come live with you.” The unshed tears in her eyes break your heart into a thousand pieces. “So, yes trying your best doesn’t really fly with me.”

“Natasha, I’m,” There’s no amount of apologizing that could take that hurt from her. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll take them out for dinner and we can talk.”

Natasha sighs. She knows this isn’t something that can be fixed with a simple talk. She lets her tears fall freely. You hate that this is what you’ve done to your family. Stepping around the counter you reach out to her. It’s reminiscent of that night all those months ago when you left. All you want to do is make it better. Make her feel better. Your emotions are conflicting as you bring your fingers up to caress her cheek. She stands stock-still closing her eyes at your touch. You rub your thumbs across her cheeks clearing away the tear tracks.

“I’m sorry,” You say and she lets out a sob.

“You’re not sorry,” She shakes her head.

“No, Natasha, I’m sorry,” You say firmly. You’re hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. She opens her eyes searching your face for a lie. You get lost in the forest of her eyes. So trusting and loving even with all of the pain you’ve brought your family.

You don’t know who makes the move first. Your lips meet tentatively. There’s a hint of familiarity that comes from nine years of marriage. The kiss is soft and sweet. Her lips glide over yours in a slow, languid motion. It’s not lacking in passion. Quite the opposite actually. Her mouth is hot and wet and hungry for you as your tongues meet. Taking in her flavor, you moan. She tastes like leftover cake with a hint of toothpaste. You pull back slightly to suck her bottom lip into your mouth. You nip it gently and the moan it elicits from Natasha only spurs you on. Her arms come up to wrap around your neck pulling you closer as you push her gently towards the counter. Her back is pressed against it as you kiss her harder. You spend a few more moments wrapped up in each other. Your hands roam her body tracing over every curve.

The need for air becomes too great as you pull away to trail kisses down her neck. You lick at her pulse point before giving it a soft bite. She moans a bit louder tensing under you. You’re moving fast and hurried as you push her tank top over her breast. You move the cup of her bra to expose her nipple taking the rosy bud between your lips. You give it a hard suck and she gasps loudly. Her hands push your head closer to her as you swipe your tongue across her nipple. Your right-hand slides down to trace the front of her jeans.

“Please,” She says in her lust-filled haze. You flick the button of her pants open skirting your fingers under the waistband of her underwear. She’s wet. So wet. You slide your fingers through her folds collecting her wetness. On one particular slide, you bump her clit causing her hips to jump. You trace her opening and she’s panting now. When your fingers slip inside of her she lets out a yelp. You push until you’re at the second knuckle. You can hear the sound of her arousal and it is music to your ears. Natasha has always been loud during sex and this is no exception. You abandon her breasts to return your lips to hers.

“Shh, baby, you don’t want to wake them,” You whisper into her ear. She nods shakily as she tries to fuck herself on your fingers. You thrust harder sending her reeling as she reaches blindly behind her for the counter. “Good girl,” She flutters around your fingers, and god damn you want to stay like this forever.

“Harder,” Her breath is airy and hurried. She’s close. You listen thrusting into her harder, faster, deeper. Her brows are knit together as she chases her orgasm. You can feel the way she tightens around your fingers.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this does he?” You breathe close to her ear. “Doesn’t take care of you like I do,” The moment is over faster than you know it. Suddenly Natasha is pulling away and pushing you away from her. It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been dumped on you as she takes a huge step away. She’s buttoning her jeans and wiping at her mouth as you try to catch your breath. “What? What happened?”

“You can’t be serious?” She says. “You think I’m fucking him?”

“Natasha,” You drop your hands to your sides. She pushes her shirt down over her breast and you immediately miss your closeness.

“No, no, you cannot be serious.” Natasha turns to catch her breath. “You don’t have the right,”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to assume. He was close to you, kissed you.”

“On the cheek,” She whips her head to look at you. “He comes over sometimes to help with the kids. They like him. That’s not any of your business if I was fucking him or not by the way. You lost that when you served me with the divorce papers.”

A wave of anger washes over you. Swiping your hand across the counter you cause all of the glasses she dried earlier to crash to the ground.

“Fuck,” You yell. The glass resting at your feet satisfies you. It’s a representation of how you’re feeling right now. Natasha jumps back avoiding the glass from touching her. She looks down at the mess in surprise before looking back at you. You both wait in anticipation for one of the kids to come down. They don’t.

You rush out of the back door to sit on the steps. You bend so your head is between your knees. The blood rushes there and you cough hoping to catch your breath. The backdoor creaks. A comforting hand is placed upon your back as Natasha comes to sit next to you.

“Breathe, y/n.” She hums. You’re having a panic attack. She sits with you so patiently as your breathing becomes normal again.

“I’m not good for them,” You say. “I’m just like him.” You whisper brokenly.

“No, y/n, you’re not.” Natasha lifts your chin to look at her. “You’re not.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said,” Natasha interrupts. “You’re nothing like him. I only wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me.” The admission sits between the two of you.

“Fuck,”

She returns her hand to her lap.

“I can’t…” You struggle. “It wasn’t making sense. Any of it. It doesn’t make sense. One minute we were happy and the next we weren’t. We became too much. I couldn’t make you happy anymore. Emma told me during her bath that she hears you crying at night when you think she’s asleep. I never meant to do any of this. I never meant it, Tasha.” You cry. You mean it. You ran. You did what you do best and ran.

“I know,” She says solemnly. “You never asked me if I was happy.” You lift your head to look at her questioningly. “You said you couldn’t make me happy anymore but you never asked me. You never ask you just assume. I’ve always been happy with you. Back during our days in the tower, when we got married, when we were pregnant with Ryan.” She names. “Even when we weren’t having sex and not communicating and fighting all of the time. I never once thought that we would end.” You’re surprised by that. All this time you thought you were doing the right thing for everyone and now you don’t know if it was the right thing at all. “Couples have rough patches. Tony and Pepper did. Thor and Jane. Clint and Laura. They got through it. I thought we could too. When you handed me those papers -- my entire world stopped, y/n. I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought maybe you found someone else. I thought so many things. But that I didn’t see coming.”

“I’m sorry,” It’s your turn to cry now. “I didn’t want this.” You shake your head. “I fucked up.” You say.

“Is this because you think I’m sleeping with someone else?”

“Partly,” You admit. “I have had some time to think and I just… I thought I was doing what’s best for us. You’re right I didn’t ask you. I assumed. I pulled away. I’m so sorry, Natasha. I never stopped loving you or wanting you. Even though all of that.” Natasha’s breath hitches through your admission.

“Then why?” She asks. “Why did you leave me?”

You don’t have a single answer. “I thought you were better off without me.”

“How could you ever think that?” She asks. You don’t have an answer for her.

“I have to leave in the morning,” You say. The moment is broken and though Natasha thought you were getting somewhere it’s clear you haven’t. She moves to stand and you catch her wrist. “Come with me. It’s a week in Florida. Come with me. You and the kids.”

“Y/n, we can’t just leave in the morning.” She says. “The kids have school and I have work.” You deflate. Of course not. You shouldn’t have asked. “But we could meet you there Friday night? Gives us time to pack and get everything in order with their teachers.” She’s giving you a chance. You stand to look at her. “The moment we come back we’re in therapy. All of us.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” You promise.

“Don’t break my heart again,” She begs quietly. “I don’t think I’ll survive this time.”

“I won’t.” You pull her into your arms. Standing here with her you wonder how you ever thought you could be without her.

---> next part

[trashmouth-richie]

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

[holylulusworld]

TOL - I’m your daddy now (2) - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You reached the end of the rope.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader

Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, breeding kink, smut, unprotected sex, implied oral (fem rec), sex on a table, doggy style, daddy Lloyd (not the kinky kind of daddy), Lloyd mentions anal sex (implied)

A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It’s the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine. It will lead toward Ari’s story. We will see their relationship throughout all other stories. 

TOL - I’m your daddy now (1)

“Hands off, Mr. Hansen!” You slap Lloyd’s hand away. He tried to grab a handful of your ass, but you won’t have it. “Your filing system is a joke, and I don’t have time to deal with your libido while sorting all the files your former assistant hid under her desk.”

“Take the rest of the day off,” he stands behind you to press his firm body against yours. “I know your boss won’t mind. He pays you to look pretty and keep him happy.”

“I took the job for the money, not a limp dick. I already had a limp dick. He’s the reason I’m here. He wanted to push his useless dick into some new snatch. So, keep it in your pants. I don’t need dick. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Oh sunshine,” Lloyd brushes his hand over your ass,” don’t you want to feel the healing power of my cock fucking you six ways from Sunday? Only Lloyd Hansen can fuck you so good you forget all of your problems.”

“If that was true, I’d gladly ride your dick every time of the day,” you turn around to push against Lloyd’s shoulder. Since the day you walked into his office two months ago, he tried to get into your pants. – Or rather between your legs.

“Sunshine, be careful what you are wishing for,” Lloyd leans closer. “Tell me the problem that needs solving, and it’s gone. After I solved all of your problems, I want you to fulfill your promise and let me get my hands on that juicy ass and inside your sweet cunt.”

“My car broke down. My husband ran off with some skank and stole my money. I’m struggling to keep the roof over my baby boy’s head. And my son will grow up without a dad,” you huff and glare at Lloyd. “I don’t think you’ll be able to solve any of my problems.”

“Hmmm…” He nods and turns around to grab a piece of paper and a pen. “Car, deadbeat ex, money, house, daddy,” Lloyd notes. “Give me a month, cupcake and you’ll see all of your problems will vanish.”

“Sure-“ you grunt and shove against his chest when he tries to kiss you. “I got work to do, Sir. We have an appointment with your next victim in not two hours.”

“Victim? The ladies get money and grand-prime dicks they can choose. I force no one to fuck one of our clients. They come here to make money and get their pussies pounded like never before.”

“Just tell this to yourself,” you stick your tongue out. “Now, chop-chop. Get to work. We don’t have all day. I need to pick my baby boy up after work.”

“I’d like to work that body of yours,” he grins but turns around to walk into his office. “I hope you know that you got me rock-hard again, sunshine. The moment I solved all of your problems; I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

“Empty promises won’t make me wet,” you call after Lloyd. “If not for the money, I’d quit. And just you know, I hate that mustache!”

“You love it here, and working for me,” he grunts. “Just you know, if you ever get to ride my mustache, you’ll scream my name!”

“What the…?” You look at the keys of your cars in your hands and then at the parking lot. “That’s not my car!”

“Ah, there you are cupcake,” Lloyd purrs while you look around the parking lot to find your car. “Do you like your brand-new car?” He wraps one arm around your shoulders and pecks your cheek. “It’s a BMW X7, safe for kids and the ladies love it.”

“I don’t understand,” you lick your lips. “That’s not my car.”

“One problem solved, four more to go,” he kisses your cheek again, lips lingering a little longer. “Go ahead and pick your baby boy up. I bet he’ll love it too.”

Lloyd drops the keys to the car in your hands. “I—I can’t… where is my car?” You look at the keys in your hands. 

“I got all your shit from your car and got rid of it. The papers are in the car. It’s yours, sunshine,” he grins. “I got work to do.”

You don’t get to protest. Lloyd walks away, whistling as you stand in front of the new car. 

“You can’t just…what?”

“I don’t understand,” you rub your tired eyes. “I had fifteen bucks in my bank account. Now it says I got two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in my bank account. This can’t be right!”

“Miss, I checked your account thrice. It was there for almost five years,” she snaps at you. “It’s not my problem you have bad eyes.”

You blanch at her words. “If you say so,” you’re too tired and shocked to argue. You grab your things and walk out of the bank. This can’t be true. Your balance has been negative since your husband left you. 

“Morning sunshine,” Lloyd greets you with a smack on your ass. “So, did you buy something nice?”

“What?” You glance at the paper bag filled with his breakfast and the coffee you got him on your way to work. “It’s your breakfast and the monstrosity you call your coffee.”

“Baby cakes, I didn’t get all of your money back and gave you a bonus for your hard work only for you to not buy you shiny things.”

“What? I—” You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “That was you?”

“I told you,” He grabs the bag with food and coffee to place it on your desk. “That I’ll solve all of your problems.” You end up in his arms, his face buried in your neck to nuzzle you. “I can’t wait to pound that pretty pussy. I bet you are hiding a hungry beast between those thighs.”

“Lloyd! Mr. Hansen!” You try to push Lloyd off of you when someone enters the building. “We have company.”

“Let them watch,” he purrs and nuzzles you again. “Did you ever take it up your ass, sunshine? I bet you didn’t.”

“Lloyd, a word,” a tall man with a thick beard, and dirty-blonde, shaggy hair steps toward you and Lloyd. He rolls his eyes as your boss shamelessly gropes your ass. “Lloyd! We need to talk. I need your help with something.”

“Not the ballerina girl again,” Lloyd sighs against you. “Ari, I told you to forget about her. She’s not one of my girls.”

You push against Lloyd’s shoulders to make him budge. “How can we help you, Sir?” You ask. The man doesn’t look like he has the patience to wait or to put up with Lloyd’s antics.

“Levinson, follow me to my office,” Lloyd finally turns his attention toward the impatient man. “I’ll see what I can do to get you laid.”

“I don’t want to get laid,” Levinson grunts. “I want her to be mine. She’s perfect for me. I just know it.”

“Perfect,” Lloyd hums. “Did you already get a taste of her cunt? I bet you didn’t and that’s why your aching dick tells you to marry her.”

You shake your head and try to focus on work, not the fact that Lloyd’s profession revolves around getting guys laid.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” You growl into your phone. “You have the nerve to call me to ask for forgiveness? How about you ask your son for forgiveness? No, forget it!” You snarl. “If you dare to get close to my baby boy, I’ll cut your limp dick off!”

You throw your phone against the wall, watching it shatter to the ground. Your chest heaves up and down and you’re close to attacking anyone coming to your path.

“Cupcake! What happened?” Lloyd pokes his head out of his office, aware that you are not in the mood to get messed with.

“He dared to call me to apologize!”

“Who?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“My ex-husband,” you grunt. “He told me that he transferred the rest of the money he stole from our accounts back and that he’ll sign the divorce papers.”

“That’s good, right?” He slowly steps out of his office, keeping an eye on you. “That’s what you wanted. To get your money back and his dead weight off of your back.”

“WAIT!” You round your desk to stalk toward Lloyd. “That was you!!!”

“Guilty,” Lloyd grins. “Problem number three is solved. And I roughed him up a little for you.” He shrugs. “I’m getting closer to the honey pot.”

Your mouth falls open. You don’t have a comeback this time. 

“Don’t tempt me to shove something more than my tongue into your mouth. You better close it or you’ll be choking on my dick, sunshine.”

“You can’t just…” You throw your hands up when Lloyd turns around to walk back inside his office.

“I can and did, cupcake. Now get back to work. I’d hate to let you work overtime,” he grins and closes the door. “Only if it includes you impaled on my dick.”

“He…and then…” You can’t believe Lloyd roughed your douchebag of an ex up for you. 

Why would he put so much effort into seducing you?

He’s a good-looking man if you ignore his personality and his annoying stache. Lloyd could have any woman, but he wants you – his chubby assistant with a kid and more problems than you can count.

Something must be wrong with him…

“Lloyd? What are you doing here?” You stare at your boss standing in front of your door. “My son is here! I can’t have you grope me or shit!”

“Relax, cupcake,” he grins. “I come in peace. I wanted to talk about a few things with you. My latest client needs our help, a special service.”

“Special service?”

“We must attend a dance class to help him,” Lloyd says. “Can we discuss this now or do you want to slap my ass for coming here first?” He furrows his brows. “What will it be?”

“Dance class?” 

“Yup,” he nods. “How about I invite you for dinner and we can talk about joining a dance class to help him.”

“I got my son here, Lloyd.”

“Perfect,” he claps his hands. “I’m burning to get to know you mini-me. We will order food then and your kiddo can watch me do my job.”

“If you curse in front of my son, I’ll castrate you!” You point your index finger at Lloyd. “I’m warning you.”

“I’m a saint in the streets and a devil in the sheets,” he smirks. “I’ll behave. Promised.”

While you wait for the delivery service, Lloyd looks around your living room. He hums and sits next to your son on the sofa. “So, bud. How are you holding up?”

Your son looks up at Lloyd, squealing as he stares at Lloyd’s mustache. “Dadda?” Your son clumsily gets on his feet to stand up and grasp Lloyd’s face. “Dadda!”

“Hey, watch out, bud!” Lloyd grasps for your son before he can drop off the sofa. “Phew, you’re a handful, just like your mommy, huh? Let me get a good look at you.” Your boss smirks. “Look at you, you little shit. You’ve got your mommy’s eyes and damn me; you’d look good with a mustache.”

“What are you doing?” You gape at the scene. Lloyd is lifting your son to play airplane while your son squeals and babbles. 

“Daddy!” Your son blubbers, making your heart ache. “DADDY!”

“Yeah, bud,” Lloyd looks you straight in the eyes, grinning. “I’m your daddy now. That deadbeat piece of … “ He clears his throat and reconsiders his choice of words, “crap can get fucked!”

“Lloyd!”

“Sorry, I meant he can ride into the sunset, and I hope a truck runs him over,” he grins and lifts your son up and down. “You are a cute little shit. No one will know you’re not mine. I’ll just make you mine.”

“What are you up to?” You try to fathom what’s going on, but the doorbell rings and you must get the food you ordered.

“One spoon for daddy,” Lloyd smirks watching your son shovel the food he ordered for him into his mouth. The peas and some of the meat end up on the table, but Lloyd doesn’t care. “And another one for mommy.” 

“This isn’t funny, Lloyd,” you snarl. “If you fuck with me, fine. But keep my kid out of this.”

“Cupcake, no swear words in front of the kid,” Lloyd tuts. “I’m not playing games here. I want you, and you come with a cute little package. So, I’ll claim him as mine too.”

He turns his attention back toward your son. Lloyd grabs a napkin and wipes your son’s mouth. “We will teach you how to eat without dropping everything on the ground. Soon you will steal all the ladies’ hearts, bud.”

You shake your head and huff. This must all be a game to Lloyd.

There is no way he is interested in playing daddy for your son…

“Another problem solved,” Lloyd lazily leans back on your sofa and groans. “Damn, that food was great. I’m full.” He pats his perfectly defined abs. “I’ll raise your cute little shit and he’s got a daddy staying for longer than it takes to fill your cunt up.”

“Is all a joke to you?” You throw your hands up. “I get that you like to toy with me, but bringing my son into this shit is a new low.” You kneel on the sofa and bend over. “If you want to fuck me, do it now and leave my son alone. Come on, get it inside.”

“Y/N,” he gets off the couch to grope your ass. “I’d love to stick my dick into this perfect cunt, but I’m into this for the long haul.” He slaps your ass. “Stop being all mopey. I told you I like the little shit. He’s my son, and you are my dirty little slut. But you can call yourself my fiancé from now on.”

“Your—what?” you look over your shoulder. “Lloyd, my son cannot watch another father leave his life. You’ll break his little heart. Don’t do this.”

“I told you,” He huffs, “I’m here to stay. The boy is mine, just like his needy mommy.” His eyes drop to your ass, and he licks his lips. “All the dirty things I’m going to do to you. Like spoiling you like the perfect slut you are for me.”

“You’re so…”

“I know…” He grins and moves his hands to your ass. “Now, where can Daddy sleep? He wants to make breakfast for his little shit in the morning.”

“You can stay in my bedroom,” you lick your lips. “But only if you stop calling my son little shit.”

“We can rename him and call him Lloyd Jr. from now on,” Lloyd chuckles at your pissed expression. “You know, that’s actually a great idea.”

“His name is Y/S/N!”

“Debatable…”

Shit, you are in trouble. No – in deep shit. Lloyd easily made you melt in his arms when he told you he wanted to raise your son with you.

Now your boss has you bend over your dining table, ready to claim your cunt with his cock too. 

“Hmm…dessert was nice,” he purrs in your ear, wet mustache tickling your ear shell. “I never ate a sweeter cupcake, Y/N. Now you’ll get the best dick of your life. This is the last dick you’ll ever get, sunshine.”

“Nghh…” You try to give him a snarky comment, but he stuffed your soaked panties into your mouth when he pushed you onto the table to eat your pussy like a man starving. 

“Do you feel this,” he holds you down with one hand while he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. “What would your husband say if he found us here, fucking like rabbits?”

You don’t have an answer for him. 

“He’d love watching me destroy this snatch,” Lloyd slams home with one hard thrust. He moans loudly and shudders feeling your walls open up to him. “Fuck, that cunt was worth the wait—” He groans into your neck. 

You whine at your own weakness. 

He’s an infuriating man, doing nice things for you and your son and you let him not only crawl between your legs to eat your cunt, no – you let him mount you like an animal at your home too. “That snatch is gripping me so tight that it almost hurts.”

Lloyd nuzzles his face in your neck, and purrs. “But it hurts so damn good, doesn’t it?” You whine again, smothered by his body pressed against yours, and your own neediness. 

He slowly rocks his hips, forcing you to feel every drag of his thick cock against your walls. Your legs quiver. Lloyd is not your passionless husband, nor the vanilla guys you fucked before him.

The man rocking into you came to conquer and he won’t do it halfhearted. “I can feel your pretty pussy cling to my cock. She’s as desperate for me as you are. But don’t worry. I’m going to take good care of her.”

Lloyd is having a blast destroying all of your defenses. He dismantled your defense and now, you lie on your table in your dining room and get railed by the man with the mustache.

“Nggh,” you groan against the makeshift gag. Lloyd picked up the pace and you end up bumping your hip against the table. 

“Fuck, yes,” he curses loudly. “Never took you for someone wanting me to fuck you on your dining table.” He stills his hips to nip at your neck. “Do you want me to cum inside of you, and give you another little bundle of joy?”

You shake your head, but your cunt flutters around his thick length. If he wants to fulfill his dirty fantasies about breeding you, so be it.

You push back on him, taking Lloyd by surprise.

He eagerly grips your hips to move his hips in sync with you. Flesh claps against flesh, and he groans loudly as you don’t just take it.

“Fuck,” he curses and grunts while you start to go faster. “Shit, yes…”

A little too fast for his liking you clench around his twitching cock. He groans and stills his hips. Lloyd can’t move or think. This is the most intense orgasm he felt in a long time, or like ever.

“Fuck, take every droplet, sunshine.” You close your eyes and shudder feeling his seed coat your walls. “I hope I put a little Lloyd in you.”

“Goodnight, bud,” Lloyd covers your son with the blanket. “You need to sleep now, okay. Your mommy is very tired.” He grins when you enter the room to take care of your son. “Shhh…I wore her out. She’s so out of it, that I need to take care of you.”

“Daddy?” Your son grabs Lloyd’s hand, holding it tightly. 

“Don’t worry, little shit,” Lloyd looks down at your son, a smug grin on his lips. “I’ll be there in the morning to make you breakfast. And in nine months, you are going to have a brother or sister.”

“Lloyd, not again,” you swat his hands away when he tries to spoon you. “I’m tired and sore.”

“Relax, I’m satisfied for tonight. Three rounds are enough for our first time,” he plays the big spoon and wraps his arms tightly around your body. “Little Lloyd is asleep, and my cock too.”

You roll your eyes. “You didn’t keep your promise. I’ll still lose the house because my bank is a bitch.”

“Oh, about that,” he nuzzles his face in your neck. “You and little Lloyd will move in with me. I have already arranged everything. Tomorrow the moving team will come around and grab all of your shit.”

“What? No. Lloyd,” you sigh deeply. “Y/S/N needs a nursery and a garden. We can’t just move out of our home only because you are crazy.”

“I’m not crazy cupcake,” he nips at your earlobe. “I claimed you and little shit as mine. This pretty mommy is all mine now, and your son will wear my name too. He’s going to have a better father than I ever had. Soon he will forget about his sperm donator and call only me his dad.”

“If you hurt my son, and don’t keep your promises, I’ll castrate you…”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET: BEFORE | Sebastian Vettel

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

sebastian vettel x reader

Before everything went down on May 2013... Seb and Y/N were everything to each other.

a/n: if you haven't read goodbyes are bittersweet yet, give it a try. if you have read everything i've published... hope you like this too, and enjoy these two story before everything went down (i'll be waiting your opinions and feedback!)

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET: BEFORE MASTERLIST

part 1: y/n has been in love for a year, so she decides to tell him just to get a quite unexpected answer (1999/2000) (coming soon!)

part 2: seb goes to france with high school, decides not to tell anything to y/n and, when he comes back, she discovers that he has new female company (2001) (coming soon!)

part 3: like every year, y/n and seb have their talk about their romantic life and, as always, y/n is talking seb about him (2004) (coming soon!)

part 4: y/n mental health is getting worse. after going to Ireland with high school, she realizes that her life isn't as perfect and nice as she thought. with a bit of shame because she's still in love with him and doesn't want him to look at her as a weirdo, she decides to tell seb everything (2005) (coming soon!)

part 5: seb and y/n spend time together during a festivity in heppenheim and, as weird as it sounds, y/n realizes that seb could be acting with her as a boyfriend and not as a friend anymore (2006) (coming soon!)

part 6: y/n decides that is finally time to tell seb that she has been in love with him for almost 8 years, and it wasn't just a crush when they were kids (2006) (coming soon!)

part 7: after ignoring her for four months, seb finally reunited with y/n just because her mum insisted her to go with there to visit the vettel's. even things between them are weird at first, seb finally asks that question (2006) (coming soon!)

part 7: y/n graduates, seb gets a job as a bmw reserve driver, and they decide to celebrate going to mcdonalds and having sex for the first time ever (2006) (coming soon!)

more parts to be announced!

[indiasthoughts]

"Can you roll my window up?"

---------

aka- , eren, and xiao, x black readers turn on this trend

---------

warnings;;

suggestive, but no smut, x black reader, ,, use of the n word , fluff, she/her/hers pronouns, lowkey toxic relationships, SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN!!!!

---------

authors note: ik this is such a silly contrast aot and genshin but i been craving all both men sooo😮‍💨

and for reference--

︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Ps: this is old work but i desperately need smth to post so mind the cornyness pls 🙈

୨⎯ Eren ⎯୧

Inside of the 6'3 mans black BMW M4 was a beautiful girl in his passengers seat, annoyed and frustrated.

see- this girl had a few things that annoyed her that he knew of yet still did when she rode in someones car.

one- rolling her window down and leaving her cold in her black skims dress. two- playing music she's not fond of at the moment, if she's in a brent faiyaz mood why play warren g? and three- not listening to what she had to say.

so when her boyfriend, Eren, of three months did all three at the same time frustration ng came crashing down

"Eren, baby, please roll my window up.", rubbing her arms to create any sort of warmth.

- and to no avail, ignored.

"babe..."

- ignored.

she furrowed her eyebrows and turnt the music down to a volume of 2.

"Can you roll my window up?!"

"No, ur attitude ruining my vibe bro"

As "2SEATER" By tyler the creator started playing, he turned the volume up, but not as high as he had it before, out of the slightest bit of respect.

"Who the fuck is your bro?"

"Ma what I told you about swearing?"

She reached over to his side, unbuckling the seatbelt as her boyfriend stopped at a red light. she pressed the passengers window button and rolled her window up.

"Now the music aint hitting from all angles!!"

"Imma hit you from all angles."

He once again put the windows down.

"Whos car this is?"

"Who sitting here?"

"Ion know what you have an attitude for..."

"Oh my god."

she leaned into her seat, embracing the cold she'd have to deal with for the next 15 minutes.

about another minute passed, and Eren was already tired of the awkward atmosphere.

"Baby im sorry"

"mhm.."

he held a small frown as he pulled up into a empty parking spot .

Tyler spoke in the background- 'the fuck you turn my music down for?'

"mamas it's us" he said with the widest grin he could possibly hold.

'can you roll my window up?'

you lip synced to the girl's parts.

'Why? damn.'

as he would too.

"Cause it's windy." You audibly spoke this time.

"But I love it when your hair blows."

as the beat dropped, he reached in and gave you a kiss.

ewww this was so sickenlybsweet ugh me and who🤢🤢

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

୨⎯ Xiao ⎯୧

you and your boyfriend, Xiao had been lying down in his bedroom, while you played with his cat on his lap, he did his homework. There was a specific way he liked to have his room, cold. whether it's the ac blasting on days where the cold was too much too have his windows open, or open windows, on the warmer days. Today happened to be one of the warmer days. And despite the baggy sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and one of his sweaters, his room was still too cold for you. As much as you cuddles up with Astro, the cat, and your boyfriend, it was still unbearable.

"Xiao, lets close the windows please.."

"I won't be able to concentrate."

he furrowed his eyebrows and said that with in the sturnest way he could.

"I'm gonna head into the living room then"

You grabbed the cat, and as quick as one leg came down, it came back up.

He played a faveorite playlist of his, when "2SEATER" came first.

"Sit back down pretty?" more of a question than a command.

"Damnn nigga it's cold!"

"m'sorry, stay wimme ok?"

He turned the volume up and held your waist, bringing his lips to your neck and nibbling your neck.

You knit your brows together, feeling a gush of cold air, and flinched softly. Taking his phone that was connected to his JBL speaker, and lowering it.

"Can you roll the windows up?"

"Whyd you turn the music down"

he puts it back on, lowly chuckling at the perfect timing on the song.

"Can you roll it up?"

"Why?, damn"

"Because it's!-"

You slowly realise the timing on the song and this mini arguement.

"But i love it when your hair blows.."

As he finally removed his lips from your neck, and tilting your neck to crane your head and meet his lips.

[novaksupremacy]

The Backseat of My Car- Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

soooo, a little Friday morning smutty treat for my loves. ❤️ I was told part 2 of This is My Office was needed and since it'll be a while before I even get to this chapter, here's a present 😜 consider it a peace offering that it may take me a few days for Chapter 7 😅 (also if someone could teach my goofy ass how to format so that things indent properly, I'll love you forever!)

"Don't beat yourself up, that was a tough case." Casey consoled her girlfriend as they walked through the parking garage, "you know there's always the possibility that a juror will be sympathetic towards one of these crackpots."

Alex was seething mad, "Langan's just lucky I don't feel like spending the rest of my life in jail or I'd have him strung up by his testicles!"

The redhead's lip curled in disgust. She stopped walking and grabbed Alex's hand. "Babe I would really rather not think about you anywhere near that man's testicles, or any man's testicles for that matter.

"Sorry," the blonde frowned, "he just makes me so mad I could spit. I can't believe I ever went on a date with that man." She went to start walking again.

The younger ADA stopped again and pulled Alex back towards her, "Okay, what? I don't know what's worse, you, talking about his nuts or the fact that you went out with him.

Alex chuckled, "It was one date, we never made it passed the bar. I really just needed info on a case."

Casey smirked, "Ah yeah because that makes it better." She giggled and pulled her closer, "Just remember who you belong to, Alexandra Cabot."

"How could I ever forget," the Bureau Chief leaned in and kissed her girlfriend.

The redhead rested her free hand against the blonde's thigh. Her eyes lit up when she realized she was still strapped from earlier. "Babe? Your windows are tinted right?"

"Darker than they should be actually, I have to put the DA placard in the window just to avoid getting ticketed. Why?" Casey shot her a look that could only be construed as mischievous.

 "Oh. OH. Backseat." Alex said excitedly.

Both women slid into the backseat of the BMW and Casey closed the door behind them. She wasted no time tossing the blue eyed beauty's glasses into the front seat and grabbing her around the neck, pulling her in to a messy, heated kiss.

Alex chuckled as she started unbuttoning her shirt.

"What's so funny?" the redhead mused, laughing if only because Alex was.

"I feel like a teenager." This was the most relaxed the Bureau Chief had been in as long as she could remember, being with Casey felt-- effortless. "In a good way that is" she said reassuringly.

"Oh yeah? Is this what Alexandra Cabot was like in high school? Riding in cars with boys?" Her girlfriend said teasingly. "I don't know about this then, I like mature, collected, no nonsense ADA Alex Cabot Bureau Chief extraordinaire."

The blonde grabbed Casey by her collar. "The only person who's going to be riding anything is you riding me in a minute and don't worry dear, I know what it is you like." She whispered as she kissed the redhead with force, she was starving for something only Casey could satiate.

"Fuck," Casey sighed. "Alex do you have to be so damn sexy constantly."

"Do you want me to stop?" She smirked as she ruined the second one of Casey's shirts today, buttons scattering to the cars floor mats.

The younger ADAs breath hitched, “No. Don’t. Stop.” She whispered playfully pausing between words as she pulled open Alex's belt and fly. She bit her lip hard, "mmm I want to try something okay? But don't think I'm weird."

Alex's blue eyes look into her hazel green ones with curiosity. "Baby if I ever thought you were weird, ever, in the time I've known you, I meant it as the highest compliment." She leaned back against the car door.

Casey put her hand against the blondes open fly and exposed the strap she was still wearing from their earlier encounter. The ginger sat up for a minute and pulled her hair back and tied it there with a ponytail holder she had around her wrist. She leaned back down and brought the strap into her mouth and began to suck.

 The golden haired adonis' eyes grew wide. "Baby that's not weird, that's hot." She whimpered as she brought her hand to the back of her lover's head pushed down lightly while she ran her other hand through her own hair. The ADA never breaking eye contact as she went to town on the toy, running her tongue up to the tip, and then taking the whole thing into her mouth.

After a minute or two she sat back up, licking her lips, and grabbed Alex by the hips pulling her flat on the backseat. "So,” the redhead blushed, “you liked that?"

"Very much so," the blonde said panting.

"Mmm, good to know." Her devilish grin plastered across her face. With a little maneuvering and a few giggles, she was able to shimmy her way out of her suit pants and on top of her girlfriend. She steadied her balance and brought herself down on top of the strap letting out a small moan, her body shuddered as she leaned down to kiss Alex. The angle making the toy hit her just right as the blonde slowly pushed her hips up, both women groaning softly.

"Fuck that feels good." Casey mewled beginning to roll her hips against Alex.

"I bet it does," the blonde cooed thrusting her hips up slow and deliberate. Copying her lover's expression as her lips parted and she let out a soft gasp of pleasure.

The redhead pushed back against the toy holding one hand to Alex's chest and the other to the window behind her head. "Alex," she whimpered, her body craving more, "I can't take much more teasing."

“Is that so? You sure you don’t want it nice and slow,” She thrust her hips slowly, holding Casey by her waist and guiding her up and down against her body, fucking her at a torturously slow pace, continuing to mimic her facial expressions has her mouth fell open and tiny gasps and moans emanated from her throat.

“Alex,” the redhead whispered, “Fuck, Alex.”

“Well obviously if you can remember my name, I haven’t tortured you nearly enough.” The blonde smirked. Casey brought her hand to her own clit, but Alex stopped her, “Ah, no cheating baby.”

The redhead whined. She started pushing herself down harder against her girlfriend, “Alex I want you to ruin me.” She moaned as she ground her hips down.

The blue eyed beauty’s pupils dilated as she took tight hold of Casey’s hips and began thrusting. She picked up her pace a little at a time until she was slamming into Casey, who was rolling her hips, leaning over Alex whimpering in her ear.

“Mmm baby, like that,” she nibbled on the blonde’s ear, causing her to sigh, “Oh Alex, Alex. Mmm, I love the way you fill me up.” She whispered with a smirk, knowing if her hot breath kept hitting her face as she did, that Alex would cum for her before she even finished.

The Bureau Chief slammed into Casey holding her hips down tight to hers and rolling them towards her. Casey cried out as Alex did this a few more times, smacking the redheads ass each time and then grabbing a fistful of supple skin and holding on.

The redhead was getting louder, “Ahh, Alex, fuck me! Just like that, don’t stop. Don’t stop baby.”

Alex spurred on by Casey’s cries also started moaning loudly. “That’s it baby, scream for me.” The blonde loved when Casey got loud and all the little noises she could get her to make as she fucked all the right spots. Alex felt her insides flutter as Casey hit a note that she was fairly sure only dogs could hear as her juices came spilling out around the toy and onto Alex again. As they both climaxed the redhead collapsed against her girlfriend leaning up just enough to stare into her crystal blue eyes. The blonde went to sit up.

“Not yet,” the ADA whimpered, “stay inside a bit longer?” Alex obliged and began stroking her girlfriends back.

“You okay darling?” she asked, checking in.

Casey nodded, “More than okay. Just trying to come back down.” Her body shook as she had another small aftershock.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” Alex whispered bring her into a yielding, tender kiss.

They hadn’t been kissing exceedingly long when there was a knock on the window. The women looked at each other, frozen in fear, “Cops?” Casey mouthed.

“No, this lot is run by CCTV” Alex whispered, “who would’ve called it in?”

There was another knock, this time slower, more annoyed.

Casey went to press the window down much to Alex’s protest, only to find Liz looking back at her.

The Judges face was more stern than either of them had ever seen on her worst day. Alex jerked her head around, still inside Casey, both of them half naked, Casey’s shirt completely undone.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liz said through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you?” She put her hand up in protest, “Don’t answer that. And Casey don’t get up lest I see more of you than I want to.”

Alex tried to protest and say something, but Donnelly stopped her before she could even get a single syllable out. “Alexandra, I don’t want to hear it. What is this? Some sort of midlife crisis? Can you not fuck at home? What are you afraid the cat is watching?”

“Judge Donnelly, we’re” Casey tried to apologize.

“Not another word Novak, you’re lucky this lot is not owned by the city. For God’s sake you both work SVU, you know how bad an indecent exposure charge can get! Have you both stopped taking your medication?”

“Liz why does it sound like you’re scolding teenagers?”

“Lena, I” but before Liz could say anymore Judge Petrovsky had already approached the car window, Alex and Casey staring at her from a very compromising position.

“It would seem it’s because apparently you are. Ah, Ms. Novak it appears that your reoccurring nightmare has finally come true. Charming. Ms. Cabot, make sure you put some concealer on all of that before you get to my courtroom in the morning. I’m late for poker. Goodnight Elizabeth.” She put a hand on Donnelly’s arm and walked off towards the street.

Liz looked at the two ADAs in disbelief, “I am washing my hands of the both of you. Please fuck each other’s brains out, before you get to work tomorrow? For everyone in the building’s sake?” With the click of her heel, she walked off towards her car hidden away in the far corner of the parking lot.

Casey side, “And she wonders why those kids said she had a broom up her butt.” She rolled up the car window, and gently removed Alex from inside her, trying to maneuver enough to get her pants back on.

Alex furrowed her brow, “Wait, what?”

“Elliot tells it better.”

“Elliot?” the blonde didn’t think she could be more confused, but here she was, for the second time today, covered in Casey, just having been yelled at by Judge Donnelly, how did they get to Elliot?

They both climbed into the front seat and Alex put her glasses back on and the key in the ignition.

“Did that,” Alex started, “Did that really just happen?” she chuckled even though her hands were shaking.

“I guess we need to be more discreet at work,” Casey grimaced.

“I don’t take it back, I would take a thousand censures to here you say my name like that.” Alex said, lust dripping from her words, “I just need to stop leaving the office door unlocked or answering window knocks unless they identify themselves as the police.”

Casey raised a finger.

“Police who are not Elliot.”

Casey raised her finger again.

“Or Olivia.”

“There it is.” The redhead nodded.

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Thick Part 2/8

Part 1

Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A chock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

Kenan wasn't in class today so you had to wait for him to pick you up at the end of yours. Unfortunately he pulled up an hour too late.

"You're late." 

"I know, I'm sorry." He sighed. "Did you have to wait for long?"

"Yes, an hour."

You got into the passenger's seat of his BMW, the last car to leave the school parking lot.

"I'm really sorry Y/N, my training session ran late. If I had a chance to text you I would've."

"Can we just get on with the lesson, please? My parents want me home before dinner." This was actually a lie, your parents were diplomats and often didn't make it home in time to dine with you. Nevertheless, you were starving, craving anything that the family chef was throwing together for dinner tonight.

"How about we switch?" Kenan suggested, referring to your seats.

"Fine."

He pulled over the car and you threw your bag into the backseat. The two of you made the switch that left you behind the wheel of his car.

"So, where should we go?"

"Well, I've had some problems with big roundabouts." You admitted. "Like the one in town."

"With two files?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Alright, it shouldn't be too crowded at this hour. Let's head there and see how you do."

You nodded, pushing Kenan's car to a start. It was a nice car and you bet he took pride in how expensive it was. Of all the people in your friend group, Kenan was the person you spent the least amount of time with, alone that is. You and Luca weren't really the closest either, but that was because you were too shy to ask him to hang out, Kenan on the other hand, you avoided if not on purpose. He was a jock. The worst kind, a football jock. With a newly signed contract to Juventus FC, the best football team in Turin.

"Alright, just take it slow." Kenan said, as you arrived at the roundabout. He was right that it wouldn't be crowded at this hour, which made it easier for you to slip into the right lane.

"Good job, Y/N." He said, praising your driving skills. "I don't see why you wouldn't be able to do that at any given hour?"

"Because..." You muttered, steering the car in the direction towards town. "Traffic makes me nervous."

"Yeah, I guess the Italians can be a bit ruthless here in Turin."

"Ruthless." You snorted. "You mean lethal. A man once honked his horn and shouted for me to get off the road, saying that his disabled cousin could drive better than me."

Kenan laughed, a rich laugh that showed off his dimples.

"I don't see how that's funny?"

"It's not." He wiped away his grin. "I'm sorry."

"You've said that like five times already."

"What? I'm sorry?"

"Yeah. It's annoying."

"Right, sorry." He smiled.

You rolled your eyes. 

Silence fell in the car, highlighting the tunes of Kenan's Spotify playlist. It consisted mostly of German trap and some other songs in what you assumed to be Turkish. Rebecca once told you that Kenan's father used to be in the Turkish mob and that's where Kenan got the cut on his eyebrows. However you called bullshit on that fact. The cut on Kenan's eyebrow was clearly a display of what he thought to be fashion amongst the cool kids.

"Do you miss England?"

"Pardon?" You snapped out of your thoughts, feeling Kenan's eyes on you. However, you were too nervous of a driver for your eyes to leave the road.

"Home." He said. "Do you miss your home in England?"

"Well, it's not really my home since I wasn't born there."

"No?" Where were you born then?"

"The Netherlands. But I spent most of my childhood in London."

"Because of your parents' job?"

"Yeah." You were surprised that Kenan knew about your parents' job as diplomats. Come to think about it, perhaps it was the one thing the two of you had in common. 

"Do you miss Germany?" The car stopped at a red light, allowing you to turn your head and look at him. Kenan's eyes stared blankly into yours, a faint but seductive smile on his lips.

"Italy is not so bad." He shrugged. "Here I get to play football with one of the best teams in Europe."

You nodded. "If it wasn't for the traffic I would've agreed with you, Italy is quite the place to live."

"Don't worry Y/N." You flinched as Kenan's hand was brought to your thigh, patting it lightly. "You'll get a hang of the traffic in no time."

Heat rose to your face and you weren't sure whether to be offended or flattered by his actions. Nevertheless, his hand slipped away as quickly as it appeared.

"I'm starving, how about some McDonald's?" He suggested.

"Oh, God yes."

You drove the car to the nearest McDonald's, although Kenan had unbuckled his belt you pulled the car into the drive through, not the parking lot.

"Welcome to McDonald's, what can I get you?" Said a lady through the drive-through monitor.

"Yeah, Hi. Erm...can I get a Big Mac menu with large fries and a large coke."

"Yes, anything else?"

"Yes, can I also get a double cheeseburger on the side and one of those ice cream sundaes with caramel topping."

"Sure thing, is that all?"

You looked at Kenan, who sat back in the passenger's seat with blushing red cheeks and wide eyes.

"Kenan?" You frowned.

"Huh?" 

"Make your order."

"Oh, right." He snapped out of his daze and leaned forward. "I'll have a chicken burger and a cup of water, please."

"Is that all?" You whispered.

"Erm...yeah."

The lady in the monitor told you to drive around the building and wait for your order to be delivered through the nearest window. Thankfully it only took a minute. Although Kenan began to unwrap his order in the car, you waited to eat your food at home.

"You know, I like a girl with an appetite." Kenan said, through the half chewed food in his mouth.

"You mean a fat girl?" 

He frowned.

"Skinny girls don't have big appetites, so I'm only assuming."

"Yes they do." He protested. "The Italian ones."

"Well, I'm not Italian."

"Yeah and you're not skinny either."

Your mouth fell open. "I can't believe you just said that?"

"What?"

"You just called me fat Kenan." It was hard for you to concentrate on the road, your hands gripping the steering wheel with a fear of losing control.

"Not fat." Kenan said, shifting in his seat. He placed a hand next to yours on the steering wheel, seeing as you struggle to keep it steady. "You're not fat Y/N, you're more like....like...."

"Yes?"

"I don't know, fluffy. Yeah. You're a fluffy girl, not fat."

"You fucking asshole." 

You pulled over the car, grabbing your things from the backseat.

"Y/N, wait! I didn't mean it like that." Kenan got out of the car with you, chasing you down the street. 

"Leave me alone Kenan."

"Come on Y/N, I just couldn't find a better word for it."

You paused and turned back to look at him. He seemed genuinely misunderstood. That is, until he opened his mouth again.

"You're not fat or fluffy Y/N."

"No? What am I then, because I've heard it all from you football guys."

"You're thick." He nodded. "Guys like thick girls, that's why I like you."

"Right, so now I'm fat and dumb."

"What, no? That's not what I..." 

You turned your back on him, continuing down the road towards your house, tossing the McDonald's bag into the nearest bushes.

Part 1

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag angel baby @guiltyasdave <3 • 18+ under the cut! MDNI!

wip #1 • far too familiar a stranger…feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

a long time ago, logan howlett knew a woman with your face…

i couldn’t not write a ‘worst!logan coming face to face with his tragically dead love interest but from wade’s universe after wade forced her to help them stop the TVA and hating her for bringing up that time in his life until he doesn’t anymore’ fic.

it's crimson because i felt that making whole new mutant reader would be sort of confusing so this fic is in the to the bone universe but it's not the same timeline...if that makes sense lmao

Wade Wilson is the worst neighbor in the entire fucking world. It’s really something you should have known sooner, like ‘the very first day in your new place ending with him breaking in through your window fully suited up after counting the floors wrong and bleeding all over your brand new pottery barn throw rug because he was still a little too concussed to walk’ sooner. Even after that whole fiasco left you with a broken window latch and a beyond fucked non-refundable $80 carpet, you still let yourself entertain his crazy. Just like everyone else whose life Wade crashed into, both physically or metaphorically. And once he's in, you can never really get him back out again. So yeah, maybe this whole thing is your fault. Maybe getting thrown into a barren, dusty void with two somewhat failed X-Men is just all your bad karma manifesting in one huge finger from the universe.

wip #2 • red and yellow kill a fellow! feat. logan howlett & wade wilson

logan doesn’t appreciate you letting wade get one up on him…

finally finally finally getting off my ass and writing logan x reader x wade! i was inspired by this one episode of satc (which is like my favorite show ever bee tee dubs) where charlotte goes out with two guys at the same time and she has sex with one but not the other until one of them catches her with the other guy and they all break it off.

my vision is a little different cause instead of getting mad and leaving when logan finds out reader fucked wade and not him, he figures it's his turn to get even. aka wade in the cuck chair and loving it.

The three of you pass a BMW sitting in a no parking zone, all four windows rolled down as Madonna blasts through the speakers. "So," Wade says, voice breaking the silence for the first time in five minutes. "Who white-washed your guts better?" You nearly trip over your own feet, whipping your head to gape at Wade. "Fucking excuse me?" "You know," Wade shrugs, like it's a perfectly normal thing to ask. The leisurely pace of his stroll not slowing, his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. "Who carved the lyrical railway better?" He just keeps going as you stare at him with a repulsed look on your face. "The number one stud that's stuffin' your muffin? That's takin the ol' bald-headed gnome for a satisfying stroll in the misty forest. Pick one hot stuff, they all mean the same thing." Before you can even answer there's a rough, questioning grunt from your right and your stomach flips. Oh. Logan, he was still here too. Still here and right next to you, listening. Oh yeah. "You fucked?" You still haven't slept with Logan yet. You turn to him face slowly, eyes a hair wide as you take in the sharp raise of his brow. "Um..." "Whoops," Wade snorts from somewhere behind your shoulder. "Cat's out the bag."

wip #3 • it's the easiest thing (just love me and eat me) feat. logan howlett

it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…

the same requested sub!logan fic from last wednesday just with a new name and weirder energy! like this has really gotten away from me and turned into something that i can't really explain well enough to make it sound like chill...

lots of religious imagery and symbolism...and some metaphors of cannibalism...idk i'm just a girl with religious trauma and a weird blood fetish sue me.

You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church. The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of it like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship. Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion. The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. The sound of your name pulled from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered. You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.

kisses!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @superhoeva