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qlossytbh · 5 months

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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 working with the BAU team has always been challenging— but your suddenly disrupted by a case that hits close to home and you don’t know how to react when your past starts clawing at you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 drinking, usual criminal minds content, mentions of dead bodies, mentions of murder, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of anxiety

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 AHHH so the series has begun. this is based on this lovely request. i’m trying my hardest for things with the UnSub and the case to be as coherent as possible while the storyline progresses, so it’s very important to pay attention to names and your past ;)

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"And that is your third drink of the night—" You reached over to Garcia's drink, ripping it from her lips as she tried puckering onto the straw before you could steal her of the drink she had rightfully purchased. Protests flowed out of her as you brought her drink to your own lips, taking a deep sip of the fruity alcoholic beverage, savoring the light flavors in your mouth. "At least share."

"Anyone tell you how boring you can be sometimes?" She slumped herself across the table complaining profusely at your antics.

"All the time actually," You shrugged. "And I'm not boring, I just don’t condone alcoholism."

"Says the one whos about to singlehandly down my drink," She rolled her eyes at the sound of your straw reaching the bottom of the glass with a slurp. You looked at the glass and shrugged your shoulders innocently.

"Oops,"

The whole BAU had finally decided to host another one of these team bonding activity's, and the vast majorty had agreed on hitting a bar that was near the downtown area, Morgan having been the main enthusiast at picking where the bonding would take place.

You thought it'd be fun honestly. It was unusual to see the group in an ambience that wasn't so full of anxiety and tension all the time. Of course, a joke or two would slip around the office, mainly through the jet rides but it was hard to lay back all the time when you were constantly chasing sadists and murderers around.

It had also been a while since you had gotten somewhat dressed up. A simple black squareneck bodysuit and some leather pants wasnt your biggest definition of getting dressed up, but you knew today was casual, so you didnt want to go completely out. You chose to instead settle for a outfit that'd allow you to blend in and some soft curls in your hair.

Everyone was in their own little comfortable bubble, which really allowed you to understand your co-workers and friends better. You watched how JJ and Emily chatted along a few other men on the further side of the bar, laughing at their antics and desperation when it came to obviously impress them. It was funny even from this side of the bar how badly the men were oggling them shamelessly.

Just as you were about to look for Derek, you felt someone clash between you and Garcia. "Well how are the two of the smokiest looking woman in this bar doin'?"

"I was just looking for you," You jabbed him with your elbow as he wrapped his arm around you. "Should've known you'd come crawling to look for us."

"By us, I hope you mean just me." Garcia butted in. Derek scoffed and allowed his arm to leave your shoulder and instead wrap both of his around the blonde that sat next to you on the bar stool.

"Pfft, you kidding?" He scoffed. "Don't' get me wrong, those pants look great on you sweetheart, but Garcia here's my one and only."

You let out a laugh at Morgans comment. He was a flirt, a natural one, it'd been just like this since you first arrived at the BAU all those years back. You however, were inmune to his charm, and he'd always been a brotherly figure to you. The two of you teased the other and often got into small discussions that were similar to that of a sibling dynamic. Nevertheless, you cared a lot for him.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," You eyed Morgan, sipping through the straw of the recently emptied drink. He pinched your cheek as a familiar laugh left his mouth while you slapped his hand away.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the bar, allowing your shoulders to slouch ever so slightly. You swirled the small cubes of ice around in the glass, looking at them intently before Derek whistled low accompanied by a deep chuckle. "Looks like Boy genius is hitting jackpot over there."

Your eyes turned to where Derek was gesturing and you saw Spencer sitting at a small table with three other woman practically perched on his arms. You watched as his arms enthusiastically flew over the place. Garcia pitched in. "Well thats a first,"

You chuckled to yourself, not failing to notice how his mouth was moving at an unreadable pace, which probably meant he had already went into what you'd like to tease him as 'wikipedia mode'. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pursed as they moved inaudibly, the same way they always did when he rambled on about something.

"Look at my man go," Morgan cheered.

"He looks constipated.." Garcia squinted her eyes, noticing his nervous and tense posture as one woman grazed his forearm.

You and Spencer had gotten really close over the past few years. He was the first person you immediately hit it off with when you first arrived to the BAU a little over a year later than he had. It initially started when the two of you were unintentionally being paired in many cases together.

However, Hotch and at the time Gideon realized that putting both of your minds together was a power weapon in disguise— Both you and spencer were incredibly smart but very different. Spencer was very good with statistics and information, and you were good with reading people in great depth, which is why the two of you made such an outstanding team.

By being together all the time, you slowly started to get more comfortable around eachother and soon enough the two of you became inseperable. Wether it was getting coffee with eachother in the morning, or staying over later in the office to read over some unsolved cases, you and Spencer were attached at the hip as months went on. It had taken a while to crack his shell open, but slowly, you'd manadge for him to loosen up.

"Looks like that's my cue," You said standing up and dusting of your pants. Morgan and Garcia shared a look while you sighed heavily, watching how Spencer entirely short circuited when one of the girls reached up to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

You knew Spencer had a thing with his personal space, but also having a heart of gold prevented him from having the guts to push these woman off. You could tell that he didn't desire their company or attention.

You rounded the bar and made your way to the table where Spencer desperately needed saving. Once you walked closer to them, the woman in the middle looked up with an unamused gaze and then Spencer's intimidated eyes met yours. You clicked your tongue, gesturing your chin to the side and insinuating them to take a hint.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies," You smiled tightly, crossing your arms. "I need to steal your boy candy for a bit."

"We're busy.." One of them said, smiling at you wickidly and she placed her hand on Spencer's shoulder. You groaned internally because your intentions weren't territorially driven and these woman felt some inescessary need to fight you for Spencers attention.

"I wasn't asking." You responded sharply, given them one final smile. Under the intensity of your gaze, the three woman finally cowered and got to their feet, walking away while tossing their hair back at you and spitting hateful glances towards you. You followed their trail with your eyes before looking back at Spencer and narrowing your eyes at him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," He clasped his hands together, blabbering as you walked over and plopped into the seat next to him.

"Why is it that you always end up in these situations?" You looked over at him. "You have got to stop attracting the bitches.." You rested your elbow on the chair and tilted your chin towards him.

"They came and I didn't really know how to—" He started but cut himself off with a groan, slumping deeper in his chair and dragging his hands across his face. He peered at you through his fingers and you chuckled at him, looking down and shaking your head to yourself.

Spencer quickly noticed how your hair was lightly curled towards its ends and the makeup on your face was giving you a soft glowy hue. His eyes scanned your lightly tinted cheeks and eyelids, along with the long dark wisp of your eyelashes that deepened your gaze, not entirely used to seeing you like this. You finally looked up at him, and eyed him.

"What?" You laughed, shoving his arm lightly. He looked down and smiled to himself. When he looked back up at you, he opened his mouth, wanting to tell you all about the statistics of makeup and its history and evolution along the years to ease his nerves, but Derek's voice cut through the comfortable chattering the two of you were sitting in.

When you looked up at him, you saw JJ, Emily and Garcia standing alongside him, all having the same familiar expression on their face. Derek motioned towards his phone and you nodded your head understandingly. You knew that Rossi and Hotch had probably called everyone in due to a new case. You looked over at Spencer, sighing heavily. "Duty calls,"

Spencer stood up from his seat and grabbed your hand, helping you up from your own and letting his chest heave with disappointment. "Are we ever going to get a day off?"

You looked up at him and patted his chest. "Now that is a stupid question for someone as smart as you, Dr. Reid."

The whole team scattered into the conference room as Rossi held his phone to his ear and chatted stoically to someone, pacing back and forth the white board. You scanned Rossi's posture and the few pictures that were peeping out of a file and your brows furrowed.

"What do you think happened now?" You voiced, turning to Spencer, who scanned the room just as intently as you had beside you, hands deep in his pocket. Morgan, JJ and Parentiss had already fallen into their seats waiting for Rossi to hang up with whoever it is he was talking to. Spencer looked down at you and tightened his lips, shrugging slightly.

You hugged yourself as an unsettling feeling sat in the pools of your gut. There was something that happened to you often where you couldn't really voice a feeling into coherent words, but something about a situation seemed oddly off in your gut. The familiar feeling was currently bubbling inside of you and it evidently manifested onto your expression. You felt a hand on your shoulder accompanied by a light squeeze.

"You okay?" Spencer asked, furrowing his brows in concern. You quickly waved him off, smiling at him and taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah, just got a bad feeling,"

As Rossi hung up, you and Spencer made your way to your chairs. Spencer absentmindedly pulled yours out, allowing you to sit before him. You mumbled a quick 'thanks' before sitting down comfortably and turning your attention to Rossi with Spencer not far beside you.

"Sorry to interrupt team bonding but," Rossi shoved his phone into his pocket. "We've got trouble."

Rossi lifted the projector remote, turning on its contents and revealing a series of gruesome pictures. The photos showed what looked to be a couple, brutally slaughtered with blood splattered across the walls.

"Easton Green, 27 and Michael Green, 28, brutally slaughtered last night in their home here in Virginia," Rossi said scrolling through a few pictures of the couples body limply displayed across what looked like a bathroom. "Both victims received more than 20 stab wounds and both had their ring fingers severed. Due to autopsy reports, Easton had water in her lungs and Michael showed signs of sexual assault."

Your heart stopped in the back of your throat as Rossi read off the names of the victims, following with ID pictures of the two familiar faces you hadn't seen in a long period of time.

"A week ago, an almost identical murder took place." He punched the buttons on the small control, revealing a stomach churning picture. "Sarah Johnson, 28 and Adam Johnson, 28. The couple presented the same stab wounds and severed fingers, but no signs of sexual assault and no water in either of their lungs."

Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply as your mouth hung open, just slightly. You never thought you'd hear those names again, much less the way you had just right now.

"Both murders happened in their own houses and signs of forced entry are present." Rossi said.

"How do we know that these murders are connected?" JJ asked, scribbling mindlessly into her journal.

"We were able to make with the little evidence they've presented so far was that both couples had been recently married," Hotch pipped in. "The stab wounds are also identically the same, along with the way the bodies were left."

"So, wait, we have someone hunting around recently married couples?" Derek asked, brows furrowed tightly in curiosity.

"In a way that would explain why the ring fingers were severed..." Spencer quipped, scrolling through his files. You glanced over at him, watching the familiar furrow in his brow. He looked up. "Recently married couples wear their wedding bands on their ring fingers after the ceremony takes place. They're exchanged during the wedding ceremony and symbolize the couple's union and commitment to each other,"

"And with the severed fingers are probably the wedding bands," Derek blew out.

"If only the ring fingers are being cut off than maybe our UnSub probably has a personal vendetta with marriage in itself and is most definitely acting out of rage," Parentiss quipped in as well, crossing her arms over her chest. You looked from person to person as they all added in their analysis and group review, but you felt as if you couldn't keep up. Your brain had stopped working the second Easton and Michael had been named.

"We'd have to figure out how the UnSub is connected to the victims to be able to confirm that, and by that we'd have to connect the victims," Hotch uncapped a marker and turned to the board.

"Actually," You finally said. "All these victims went to North Virginia High School, the private school over by the upper east side of town."

The room fell silent as everyone's head turned to you. You froze momentarily, sinking into your seat while swallowing the bundle of embarrassment that seeped into you as the spotlight suddenly found your way. You signaled to the files "I, uhm— I used to go to school with these people."

"All four of them were in my class, I was actually friends with Easton. Sort of—" You shook your head. "—I haven't talked to her for years until well..."

You looked over at the board and cringed internally.

"So were they together since high school?" Derek asked you, turning in his seat towards you. You pursed your lips in thought.

”Sort of," You flipped a page over onto it's back and pointed your finger to one of the lines. "Easton and Michael starting dating a year or two after graduation, but Sarah and Adam had been dating since sophomore year of college."

Your frown deepened, suddenly memories of your past flooding your head quicker than you anticipated. And quicker than you were prepared for. You rubbed your temple and laid back in your chair.

"Whoever the UnSub is could be connected to the class or school," You stated, deciding to fall silent until further notice. Hotch nodded in your direction, eyeing you suspiciously before Rossi began laying out a few more details of the case to which you couldn't completely pay attention to. Your hands fell into a nervous pattern of picking at the skin that sat comfortably on the side of your nails.

Spencer reached out from the side, placing one of his hands over both of your to prevent you from continuing your anxious habit. When you looked over at him, his gaze remained on Rossi and Hotch, eyebrows slightly furrowed yet expression completely relaxed as if he had not a single thought flowing around in his head.

God knows you needed a bit of that. You glared at him but with a huff of surrender, you slouched further into your chair, allowing your fingers to dance along with Spencers underneath the table and away from anyone else's view.

After about thirty minutes of placing down a starters plan to the case and more unnecessary stuff that you weren’t all too interested in paying attention to, everyone in the team was dismissed. You snapped out of your trance, suddenly realizing that everyone was standing up and getting ready to leave.

"You in there?" Spencer called out from beside you as he shoved his paperwork into his familiar satchel. You hummed offering him a quick, forced smile.

"Yeah," You threw your bag over your shoulder. Spencer stopped you with a firm hand as you attempted leaving the room. He gave you a knowing look, clearly not even impressed by your poor attempt at running away from his worried gaze.

"I’m fine Spence," You said, tilting your head slightly to the side. "I’ll tell you about it in the car,"

When you and Spencer first started to get along, both of you had realized that your lived not far from the other. A fifteen, maybe twenty minute car ride from the others place at most. When Spencer found out you usually took the train to get home, he insisted on dropping you off every evening after work. At first, it was a bit awkward, due to the fact that none of you knew anything about the other, opting for plugging your AUX cord into your phone and playing music to distract yourself from the silence. But now, things were different and things were everything but uncomfortable

"Y/N," Hotchs voice cut through the air thickly. "A minute?”

Your head snapped over to Hotch. You tensed, looking back over Spencer to which he tightened his lips, giving you a look full of sympathy. You assured him with a nod in the direction of the door. "I’ll catch up with you,"

With a final nod, Spencer left the room, closing the door behind you. You tensed your fingers at your side and swiftly patted the sides of your pants. You suddenly felt intimidated by Hotchs presence. It made you incredibly panicky not knowing why he called you to stay behind. Hotch had always been someone you found hard reading.

"Whats up?" You asked walking up to him and gripping at the strand of your bag.

"Are you okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows, jerking back slightly. Now that was definitely not what you had expected.

"What..?" You asked, profusely confused as to where his question was coming form. He continued, organizing the files that were left on the meeting table.

"I asked if you were okay," He paused turning towards you. "If you’re going to be in conditions to work this case—“

You invoulintarily let out a laugh, to which you clamped shut in embarrassment at Hotchs unnamused glare. “Sorry..”

You shifted on your toes and sighed heavily. You understood that this sudden revelation may make people think this could effect your performance in the case. I mean, these were people you spent all four years of high school with and to any logical human being, in a sense, it would be emotionally impacting if ex-classmates were being executed one by one.

But Hotch knew very little about your past. No one did. So with a firm nod you looked over at Hotch. "I am perfectly capable of working on this case Hotch."

“I didn’t doubt your capability,” He stared at you intently. “I asked if you were okay to work on the case,”

You stopped, watching him slowly try to weave his way into the truth of what these people actually meant to you. But you quickly shot him a smile, blocking him out and preventing him from seeing what was going on in the inside of your head.

“Yes, I am.” His eyes scanned yours, and with a simple sigh he shook his head and finally dismissed you from the room.

The case did not effect you in the slightest, and you weren’t lying about that. It was just very shocking finding out that someone who used to be your best friend was slaughtered to death. But you knew that nothing— no even the people who used to go to school with you were going to put a halt to your job, much less when you love doing said job so much.

You said your final goodbye to Hotch and walked over to the door, exiting it carefully. When you turned your back to the closed door, you found Spencer sitting against one of the desks. You crossed your arms and glared at him.

"You should’ve gone home," You said. He pursed his lip, cocking his brows with amusement laced in his features. "I could’ve taken the train.”

You turned on your heels and allowed him to follow beside you. Spencer let out a laugh, throwing his head back. You beamed at his smile.

"That’s funny," He said, looking down at you as both of you made your way to the elevator. "Did you know that transit riders, especially women, are often victims of a wide range of offenses of a sexual nature that happen on, as well as at bus stops and train stations."

You looked up at him with an unamused look, knowing he was doing this just to prove a point. He opted to continue. "Verbal harassment is the most common form of harassment, with 41% experiencing "obscene/harassing language" and 26% being subjected to sexual comments. Among non-verbal types of harassment, 22% had been stalked and 18% had been victims of—“

"Okay fine!" You exhasperated. "I wouldn’t have taken the train anyways, I have my personal choufer with me."

You patted his arm with a smile on your face as you rolled your eyes at his triumphal grin. Once the elevator door opened you pursed your lips. "Can I at least pay those 25 dollars of gas?"

He looked forward as the elevator door closed, scoffing. "Not a chance.”

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allywthsr · 1 year

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FINDING LANDO ON RAYA | (l.norris)

summary: you are bored in your hotel room and find Lando Norris on Raya, what will happen if he texts you?

wordcount: 5.7k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v

notes: seeing that video, did things to me, my first smut so please be gentle!! Comment your thoughts please also please pretend that you don’t need to be a celebrity to see others

You were in Amsterdam for a work trip, discussing business with possible new clients. The client that was scheduled on your last day, canceled the meeting the night before, because of some emergency that came up, so you being bored in your hotel room during the early afternoon, you checked Raya. You downloaded the app with your friends back in London to see who comes up and check out celebrities that had a profile there. You weren’t big on dating apps, you had Tinder but only to make fun of the jerks that were registered.

Nothing serious ever came out of the dates you had, Raya was your new hope. Maybe going on dates with celebrities would be better, maybe they wouldn’t be such idiots, in the end, you could always talk to tabloids and tell them what an asshole he was. They knew that risk and they wouldn’t just send dickpics out of the blue.

Going through the profiles you found some Instagram celebrities, but non caught your eye, you could clearly see the fuckboy in them.

You almost wanted to close the app, but saw a brown-haired boy named Lando Norris. You followed Formula One and watched as many races as you could, always keeping a close eye on the younger drivers, who just looked absolutely delicious. With Lando getting P2 in Silverstone and Hungary, you shifted your attention to him, stalking him on Instagram and finding him legs clenching sexy. You never would’ve thought you would find him on such an app. He could just scroll on his Instagram followers, chose a random person, and hit her up, she would open her legs in seconds, not that you were any different.

You clicked through his pictures, a black and white one of him looking like the dessert he is, one of him partying, and one of him with his friends and pulling a weird face. The three pictures showed his personality perfectly. Sexy, outgoing, and funny. You analyzed the profile further, looking at his profession which said, Formula One driver, age twenty four, wasn’t he twenty three? After a quick Google search, you checked that he was indeed twenty three years old. Lando Norris cheating his age, you saw what he was doing.

Visiting Amsterdam from London, just like you.

You didn’t hesitate for a second but clicked straight on the heart, hoping that maybe he liked you as well and before you could blink, a page popped up, and the words: ’You and Lando like each other!‘ flew across your screen.

You couldn’t believe it, he liked you as well. What? How?

What should you do now? Text him? Ignore it? You couldn’t ignore him. Meeting Lando was a one in a million chance. You wondered what he was like in real life, was he as funny as he appeared in all of the videos? You tapped on his chat and thought about what you wanted to say. Something sweet? Something funny? Something flirty? Or did you text him something about Formula One? You were about to exit the app and text your best friend, but then you saw a bubble appear, indicating that he was typing.

/////////////////// Meanwhile at Lando’s //////////////////////

He sat in his hotel room watching something random on Netflix when his phone made a sound, a sound that he specifically set for Raya. He removed his eyes from his MacBook and took his phone in his hand, he recognized your name from earlier. He looked for some fun on Raya, wanting a quick fuck to forget the busy weeks he had. So when he scrolled through the profiles and found yours, he was kind of drooling. You looked stunning in the pictures you put up, one of you in a park, sitting on a blanket and enjoying the sun, the next one was you, sitting on some random stairs in front of a house you found in Notting Hill and the last one was one of you sitting in front of a cake, made for your birthday. A big pink twenty two was piped on the white frosting while you smiled at the cake. You were surprised by the whole day your friends had prepared for you. Due to you moving to London for your job, you had no one at first, because of your job you got to know a lot of people and some stuck with you, surprising you for your birthday.

You looked super hot in all of your photos, choosing them with a laugh with your friends, saying how many creeps were going to slide in your dms.

So when Lando read: ’You and Y/N like each other!‘, he didn’t waste a second of not answering you. He thought you were perfect, from London and in his age range and not ugly. Lando clicked on the private chat and typed in his usual message, every time he used this, not one girl said no.

Hey there! You look absolutely gorgeous

What are you up to babygirl?

You almost let out a scream. He was a flirt, a big one. What should you do? Text your best friend and ask for help or just handle this like a pro and see what the outcome is. You decided to go for the second, if he wanted to meet up, then it was because of you and your texting and not because of your best friend that basically wrote the text for you. So you replied to him, if he was flirty, you would be too.

Hiya Handsome

Not much, chilling in my hotel room

What about you?

You wanted to keep the conversation going, so you obviously wanted to know what he was up to. If someone would have told you weeks ago, that you would be texting with Lando Norris on your Amsterdam business trip, you would have laughed at the person. You dreaded this trip, of course, it was fun traveling at the cost of the company but it was also lonely. Maybe texting Lando wasn’t that bad after all, he could be your company for the last day.

You didn’t have to wait too long for a reply from him, after seconds he had read the message and the bubble appeared again. He was not only fast at driving then.

The same

I‘m bored as hell

What are you doing tonight?

Oh god. What now? That was practically him asking you if you were free later. Of course, you were but that was not him asking for a date where he would kiss you on the cheek good night. That was him asking for a quickie and you knew it. But would you still meet him? Obviously! It’s not every day you get to meet one of your celebrity crushes.

Not much, had a client meeting but he canceled so now I‘m free

Thought about going out and seeing the city but am not sure, they said that rain is coming later

Why you asking?

You knew why he was asking, but you wanted to seem innocent. In your head you already started planning your outfit, you had a lot of serious outfits for work and barely anything nice to wear for a non formal meeting. But you were so happy you packed some lingerie, you had to because almost all of your normal non sexy underwear was in the laundry, which you forgot to put into the washing machine. Typical you.

It’s my lucky day then

The clouds are already really dark, seems like you can’t go out tonight :(

Wanna come to my hotel and maybe we could order some food? I‘m kinda craving some McDonald’s

You seem lovely

And it happened. What are you gonna do now? In the end, he was still a stranger, someone you did not know. He could be fully different from what you saw and knew of him on the internet. Oh god, what if he had some weird kinks and was going to pee on you or something? You just hoped he was normal in and out of bed. And McDonald's? Isn’t he an athlete that had to follow some strict diet? Did fastfood even fit in there? What were you going to answer to the ’you seem lovely‘? That was probably something he texted every girl, so you chose to ignore it for now.

That’s a bummer

You could be a serial killer and kill me before I get the chance of saying goodbye to my loved ones, but McDonald’s does sound nice

But does it fit into your strict diet, mister McLaren’s number one driver?

Were you actually going to meet him? You needed advice from your best friend. She knew what to do, you were sure, she always did. In the end, she was one of the humans that pressured you into downloading that app in the first place.

The serial killer existence is not giving me the kick as it used to, so don’t worry, I‘m over it

I also don’t have any more space for the corpse in my basement

McDonald’s it is then

Someone did their googling, I see

It’s the break, I can do what I want

Also, my trainer will not know about this, and what he doesn’t know, he won’t get mad over

Are you still there?

Hello?

Babygirl

Where did you go

The serial killer text was only meant as a joke, I would never do something like that, it would ruin my career

You chuckled, did he really think you were scared by the obvious sarcastic text? Cute.

If you retired from the serial killer being, then fine

I watch you drive around in circles every weekend, don’t get your hopes up, I didn’t google you

And what if I already texted your trainer and told Jon about this? ;)

Are we impatient? Am I that special that you can’t go a minute without me? Atta boy

You let out a sigh, it’s official now. You were going to meet up with Lando Norris. Then you could see how he really was and compare him to all the fan fictions you‘ve read. You really needed to sort out some outfit.

You comin‘? That’s sweet

So I got myself a fangirl? Just don’t be a Max Verstappen lover, I want you to be on my side

And if you did text him, you will get punished later ;)

You are gorgeous, just wanted to make sure that I was the only one inviting you for dinner tonight

Oh god, hallelujah. Now you kinda wanted to text Jon and see what his punishment looks like. You could feel the heat and the pulsating between your legs already and you haven’t even talked with him face to face yet. You needed to get there soon.

Sure, I always take a free meal, sent me your address? :)

Nah, I actually like George Russell but he didn’t answer me on Instagram… :(

So you‘ll do it

Now I kind of want to text him and see what that means… maybe I’ll send him a picture of you biting into a burger later

And no, no competition for you

Ah btw, what’s the dress code? I didn’t pack much fancy clothing except for my work stuff. Are we thinking sweats? Or else I’m gonna turn up in a work dress

The George Russell comment was made up, you never texted him but wanted to play a little with Lando. You didn’t know how to put the dress question in a flirty comment, you weren’t even sure if he was actually trying to get you into his bed. Maybe he was just looking for someone to accompany him for eating McDonald’s.

It’s the Hilton in Amsterdam, there‘s only one

I‘ll send you someone to pick you up, don’t worry

And that’s sad, I can’t get George to come here so quickly, guess I’ll be your only company tonight

Do it and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow

Please come in your sweats!! That’s the most comfortable for eating McDonald’s and chilling, besides, I won’t look at them when they‘re laying on the floor, so put on whatever you feel comfortable in

Yep, that was not just an ’I‘m bored’ dinner. Alright. You could feel your panties getting slightly damped when you stood up and walked to your suitcase. Fishing out dark grey sweatpants and a white crop top. You needed to shower before you went there, get cleaned up, and shave. What color of lingerie would you put on? You had no idea, maybe you should ask him since he‘s also not subtle about dropping hints about where this night would lead.

That’s nice, thank you!! What time will he be here?

Alright alright, sweats it is then, what color are we thinking for lingerie? I have some red, blue, yellow, burgundy and white

You were bold here, that wasn’t normally your case of flirting but he was just as forward as you were, so why hold back? And you really needed help choosing the color. What if he didn’t like yellow?

He‘ll be at yours at 6:30 pm if traffic is alright

Baby, I won’t make it through dinner if I know what you‘re wearing underneath

You‘re making things very hard for me already and I haven’t even touched you yet

But I love the color blue, babygirl

Put on whatever you feel comfortable in

He was the sweetest even while flirting. And him sending you a driver? Was this the princess treating your father always talked about when you were younger? But you were sure he didn’t have in mind what was coming for you after dinner if you would eat dinner before the sports session Lando had planned.

I‘ll see what I can do then

See you later handsome ;)

You hoped into the shower, washing your skin twice with the summer like smelling shower gel. Peeling your skin to make it super soft as well as shaving every hair you saw. You knew that men shouldn’t care if you had hairs on your body or not, but you felt better if you did. You were also happy, that you washed your hair yesterday evening so you did not have to worry about it now.

It was very difficult, to not touch yourself. The pressure that build up down there was almost unbearable, but you wanted to wait for Lando, it was his job now to make you feel good, you just hoped 6:30 pm would come soon.

When you got out of the shower you dried your body and tapped the screen of your phone, it was 4:48 pm. Enough time to get your makeup done and stress yourself. So before you did anything else, you applied some body cream to make your skin super silky.

Now sitting down in front of the hotel window with your travel mirror in hand, you started on your makeup. You didn’t want to overdo it and ruin this night, but you also wanted to look like something. So you did a light makeup, only applying products that weren’t heavy on your skin and looked almost natural.

The next time you took your phone in your hands to check the time it was 5:29 pm. Only an hour. You could do that. You decided to text your best friend the new details.

So you did just that, applying Parfum on your ankles, between your thighs, and even spritzed some behind your ear. You just hoped he would like your Parfum. Packing together some things you would possibly need for sleeping over. New underwear, makeup remover, your face cream, and your phone charger, you doubt he had two. You put on your sweats and the crop top over the blue lingerie, was that even the right thing? Meeting up with him just for a quickie? He won’t remember you by next week, did you really want to go through that? You would get attached to him and he is never going to text you.

The next time you tapped on your phone it was 6:24 pm, you spent the last twenty minutes wandering around in the hotel room trying to get rid of the butterflies you felt. It was exciting meeting up with someone when you knew you would have a good night, ending it with pleasure. So you gathered everything and made your way downstairs to the lobby, you waited there for a car to roll up to your hotel.

When a black Mercedes rolled up, you made your way outside and the driver got out of his car.

”Are you Miss Y/N Y/L/N? I am here to pick you up on Mister Norris‘ behalf.“

”That’s me, thank you.“

You got into the car and waited for him to start driving, he wasn’t very talkative which you were thankful for, the nerves were getting the best of you, and you weren’t sure if you would even be able to talk a normal sentence without stuttering.

When you arrived at the hotel, the driver turned to you.

”I wish you both a good evening. His room is number 1283, the left elevator and then you need to press button twelve for the twelfth floor.“

”Thank you so much for picking me up!“

With that, your door got opened and you looked at the person with a disturbed look, seeing that it was only a Portier you relaxed. You weren’t used to this luxury. Thanking the guy that opened your door, you got out and went into the hotel to the left elevator, pressing floor twelve. The doors closed and you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. This was really happening. Before you knew it, the doors opened and you stood on the twelfth floor, now you only needed to find room number 1283. You followed the signs that were everywhere on the walls and a minute later you stood in front of the door.

With a thumping heart, you knocked at the door waiting for Lando to open it.

He answered with a big smile and tousled hair, he was dressed in some black sweats and a black T-shirt, looking handsome as ever.

”Hey, come in.“

”Hi, thank you.“

You stepped in and Lando opened his arms for a hug. Hugging before fucking, alright. He loosened the hug and his eyes scanned your body.

”You look absolutely gorgeous, Baby. Even better than on your pictures.“

”Thank you, but you aren’t that bad either, you look very handsome, I like your hair like this.“

”Yeah?“

You nodded.

What now? The sexual tension was already unbearable, you wouldn’t survive dinner. You both were practically eye fucking the other.

”Let’s sit down first?“

”Sure!“

With that you went to the cream-colored couch, sitting on it and having the perfect view over Amsterdam.

”But if you are a serial killer, do tell me. At least I want to say goodbye to my family.“

You had no idea what you were saying, you wanted to lighten up the situation but what should you do?

”Nah don’t worry, not anymore. And you‘re here for work? I read you’re from London?“

”Yes, had some meetings with clients. I moved there for my work, I love it there. And what about you? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in some exotic place for holiday?“

”Kinda, I visited Tomorrowland yesterday to see my friend Martin Garrix and tomorrow I have tire testing for Pirelli, so no holiday for me just yet.“

”Ah that’s fun, what are you doing for the holiday?“

”I rented a yacht for my friends and family, you should come!“

”Oh, yeah“, you blushed, ”let’s see if I still want to see you after tonight, maybe you have a small dick.“ you smirked. You wanted to get to the point of why you were here. The wet panty proofing it to you, dinner could wait, the wetness between your legs not.

He looked at you with an open mouth.

”Me and a small dick? Baby, you have no idea what’s coming.“

With that, he put his hand on your thigh dangerously close to your core. You let out a shaky breath.

”The thing is, I joked about not making it until dinner, but I really don’t think I can resist you that long, knowing you’re probably wearing sexy lingerie under your sweats and crop top.“

You could see his eyes getting a shade darker than they were when you first saw him.

”Why don’t you find out for yourself?“, you wanted to sound sexy and just prayed to whatever lord, that it did.

And before you could think about it for another second, he took you and placed you in his lap, putting his hands on your waist. His lips looked absolutely delicious, you wanted to taste them, feel them on yours. As if Lando could hear your thoughts, he pressed his lips on yours, moving them, and slipped his tongue into your mouth searching for yours. You let out a quiet moan and nudged his tongue with yours. Your hands found their way into his hair, slightly pulling on the strands, hoping that that was something he was into.

Your lips creating the loudest sounds, every time they smacked together, taking deep breaths in between. Lando left your mouth and his kisses wandered slowly down your neck, leaving a trail of wetness behind (not only on your neck) and he slightly bit the skin of the side. Without you realizing it, you moved your hips against his, dryhumping him. Lando’s hands wandered under your crop top and slowly pulled the material up, to remove it, you held your arms up to make it easier for him. When the dark blue lace appeared, he let out a breath.

”Fuck babe, you’re killing me. Even better than I imagined.“

You could just hum because he immediately attached his lips to your chest, sucking on the skin that was now freed. That felt so fucking good. Your hands went back into his hair, attaching themselves to the brown curls.

”Le-Let me“, you pressed out, wanting to explore his neck as well. That was one thing you always found sexy, his thick neck, you wanted to touch and kiss it and now you finally could.

He let go of your chest and looked at you with big eyes, you pressed a kiss on his lips and did the same then he did minutes prior. Wandering down his neck and slightly sucking, you didn’t want to leave a hickey but some sucking never hurt anyone. Satisfied with what you did, you let go of his skin and licked over the said area, feeling him shivering under you. You could also feel something hard under you, and if you were correct you wouldn’t be disappointed. It felt the right way, thick and long enough but not too long.

With a quick heartbeat, you left his lap and slowly made your way in front of him, you wanted to see for yourself if you were correct. So you sank to your knees and looked up at him through your lashes, he groaned and his head fell backwards.

”Fuck babygirl, you make it so hard for me, I could just burst right now.“

”I make things hard for you? Oh Lando, trust me, I know.“

With that, your hand slipped across his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes focused on you again, he could almost see how hungry you looked at his dick as if it would be your last meal.

”I want this off.“

You tucked at his sweats, impatient to finally get to his member you haven’t met yet.

”Impatient are we?“, Lando acted all cocky now, but you both knew, that when you touched his dick with your delicate hands, he would turn into a puddle. With that, he lifted his hips and you were able to pull the sweats down, seeing him wearing no underwear.

”No underwear?“, you asked with crooked eyebrows.

”Figured I didn’t need them since you were going to remove them anyway.“

When his sweats was finally pulled lower to where his dick was, his member sprung towards you, he wasn’t fully hard yet but you could work with that. You gave his sweats the last pull and they were pooling at his feet, you immediately got to work. Not wasting a second of not touching him, you grabbed his member, which laid heavy in your head, and let a thread of saliva fall onto his head, moving your hand up and down, spread the fluid evenly, feeling him hardening with every stroke you gave him.

”You‘re killing me. That feels so fucking nice.“

The praise made you smile. At least he felt satisfied, that was already good.

”Put it in your mouth babygirl.“

So you did just that, you opened your mouth and gave it a long lick, from the bottom, to the tip. Your lips closed around his head, circling it with your tongue. Looking up, he had an open mouth and his eyes looked satisfied, you wanted to do more, slowly taking his member down your throat. Lando let out a moan and reached into your hair with his hand, making a messy ponytail to hold on to.

When you reached your limit, you grabbed the rest of his dick with your hands, following the movements you did with your mouth.

”Fuck baby, that’s enough, or else I‘m going to cum down your throat, I want to taste you first.“

With an unsatisfied hum, you let go of his dick and pouted.

”Let me take you to the bed.“

You nodded and he pulled you back onto his lap, standing up as if you weight nothing and walking with you into the bedroom. The bedroom was nicely decorated and from the window, you could see a beautiful sunset, but that wasn’t something you wanted to pay attention to. He sat you down on the soft bed and you shifted to the end of his bed, laying your head on his pillow. You inhaled the scent that came across your nostrils, fully smelling Lando. If you wouldn’t be up to different things right now, you would turn around and never stop sniffing his pillow. Was that creepy? Probably.

”You need to tell me, when I need to stop, yeah?“

You nodded, not being able to say anything, excited for what was about to happen. He laid on his chest between your legs, tugging your own sweats down. With a groan he let his head fall onto your thigh, seeing your lace panty made him weak in the knee, thank god he was laying down.

”Did you put Parfum on your legs? God baby, you‘re so fucking sexy.“

”You like it?“

”Are you kidding? Fuck yes.“

He placed kisses on your thighs, and with each kiss, he got closer to where you needed him the most.

”I can smell you from here baby.“

You propped up your legs and he removed your panty with a swift move. Seeing your glistening core, he almost drooled.

”You‘re so fucking wet and I didn’t even touch you properly yet.“

”Ever since you texted me, I was almost not able to resist touching myself.“

”Fuck Baby.“

Before you could respond he licked with his flat tongue over your pussy, collecting most of the wetness that left your core already.

”You taste so sweet, Angel.“

With a groan you placed your hands in his hair, pulling on the strands again.

He flicked your bud of nerves several times then went back to toy with your entrance. A moan escaped your mouth when he inserted his tongue inside of you and with his nose he nudged your clit.

”Lan-“

”Go on, cum for me Y/N.“

Without a warning he inserted his pointer and middle finger into you and focused on your clit with his tongue, moving everything in a rhythm together.

”Fuck Lando, I‘m gonn-“, and before you could finish that sentence, your back arched and the pleasure washed over you, leaving a pulsating feeling in your core. With one last lick, Lando got up and positioned himself over you, his face glistening with your juices.

When he pressed a kiss on your lips you could taste yourself and let out a groan.

”Your skin is so fucking soft Y/N“, Lando said while he caressed your sides.

”Are you ready to take me?“

You just nodded, not being able to say a word. He already made you feel so good and he wasn’t even in you yet, you needed him, you needed him bad.

”I need you, Lan.“

”Good girl. Do you have a condom?“

”No but I‘m on birth control, you don’t have to use one, as long as you’re clean.“

”I sure am.“

His dick twitched at the thought of feeling you without a rubber, the skin on skin contact making him feral.

Taking his cock in his hand, and moved his tip through your folds, wetting his member. He looked you in the eye, silently asking you if you were ready. You nodded your head and pulled his head to yours to press a kiss on his lips, which he returned, sucking your lower lip into his mouth before pulling back and focusing on the cock in his hand. Slowly pushing his tip to your entrance, you closed your legs around his back and nudged him to push more into you. He slowly slid fully in you, as you gasped at the new sensation and felt full. He filled you up perfectly, it was like you were made for each other, stretching you in all the right places. He stood still and waited for your nod of approval to move. You clenched around his cock.

”Fuck Y/N, do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.“

You giggled and nodded your head, indicating him that he could move. He pulled his dick out and forcefully pushed him back in. You both moaned at the sensation.

”I hope you know how good you feel, it’s amazing.“

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at this compliment. You loved this dirty talk he did, complimenting you. He took his hand and started to play with your clit while still pounding in you. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, the new stimulation giving you the perfect pleasure.

”Fuck Lando, you’re making me feel so full.“

He grunted at that statement. Speeding up with his movements, as well as rubbing and flicking your clit. Your moans getting higher with every thrust.

You could feel your release getting closer.

”Lando, I‘m gonna cu-”

”Baby cum for me.“

With that you felt your inside snap and the orgasm taking over your body, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and your legs started shaking. While you were on your high, Lando went and left kisses on your neck, slightly sucking, leaving faint purple bruises behind.

When you came back down you focused on Lando, clenching around him, trying to get him to cum as well. Sinking your nails into his shoulders and leaving little crescent moons on his skin, they would probably still be seen tomorrow. He groaned and his head fell down on your shoulder, panting. You could feel him painting your insides white, you moaned at the feeling.

”Fuck darling, you feel so good.“

He did some last thrusts to ride out his orgasm and then almost let all of his weight fall down on you. Your hands immediately went into his hair, stroking it while he still had his now softened dick inside of you. He lifted his head and pressed his lips on yours, moving them and creating smacking sounds.

Slowly pulling out, you could feel his and your mixed cum dribbling out of you, enjoying this sensation, Lando sat up and swiped his thumb over your labia, liking how it looked. He wiped his cum covered thumb on the white bed sheet.

”I‘d love to stay here with you, but I need to pee. It’s not very romantic but I don’t even wanna know what happens if I don’t.“

You sat up and Lando replied with a: ”Yes, please go, it’s important. I don’t want you getting a bladder infection after having mind blowing sex.“

You scoffed and got up, ”Mind blowing?“

”What is that supposed to mean?“

You turned around looking into his face, you both were smiling brightly, still having that post sex glow, but also because you joked about the sex you just had. It was fantastic. You started walking towards the en-suite bathroom.

”You were good Lando, but mind blowing? I don’t know.“

”My cum dribbling down your thigh is saying something else.“

You blushed and looked down at your thigh, seeing the white drips rolling from your core. You didn’t know what to say to that and went to the toilet to do your thing. Returning just shortly after, you sat in the bed next to him.

”You want to order some McDonald’s and stay over?“

Part two

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #formula 1 #lando norris one shot #lando norris x y/n

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coff33andb00ks · 3 months

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Mountain Mama - LH

Lewis Hamilton x unnamed ofc summary: You can take the girl out of the country, but can you ever really take the country out of the girl? songs: Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver and Is This Love by Bob Marley & The Wailers a.n.: am currently soft for Lewis and had to write to get him out of my system spoiler alert it didn't work warnings: discussions of prejudice and racism, pure disgusting fluff, author unabashedly shows her love for country music, author also is fully in love with one sir lewis Hamilton now

She wasn't worried about her family liking Lewis. Her sister had already met him and was doing her part to talk him up as the greatest man that ever lived to the rest of the family. She knew there was a wary level of respect between her parents and Lewis after their unofficial meeting over FaceTime. He'd been a little shy but very sweet, telling them a little about himself, and later her mother had said well he seems like a nice young man.

High praise from mama, who'd called her last boyfriend dried up dog shit.

Her father hadn't said anything about him. He didn't follow formula one, only knew about it because of her photography, so he didn't know who Lewis was. But when he'd texted her to tell her he'd watched a bit of the race after she'd confirmed Lewis was coming home with her during summer break she knew he was at least trying.

So here she was, behind the wheel of the rental car, driving to her parents' home with Lewis in the passenger seat and Roscoe in the back. Music was on, the windows were down, and with each mile she traveled closer to home she felt both more relaxed and more anxious.

She needed them to like him. They didn't have to love him, call him the son they'd always wanted, or even add his name to the Christmas card list. They didn't need to learn everything about him. She just needed them to like him enough to want him around when she came home for a visit. She needed them to like him and understand how very much she loved him.

They would bristle a little bit. Especially Grandma. Because he was older. Almost 40 and never married? Hm… And all those tattoos… She could hear Grandma clicking her tongue in disapproval over the tapestry of artwork that covered most of his body. And her father's eyebrows would hit his receding hairline when Lewis inevitably dressed as though he'd just stepped out of Vogue to go down to the diner in town for lunch on Friday.

"Babe." Lewis spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music. She glanced over at him, saw his playful little smile as he lifted his phone.

"No," she laughed when the song playing ended and another began. Immediately recognizable because it was one of her lifelong favorites. The one her grandpa had sang on summer nights around the bonfire when he was a few slugs of moonshine deep.

Lewis held up his hands and swayed in time to the music. "Almost heaven, West Virginia… Blue Ridge mountains, Shenandoah river…"

And she had to sing along, because she always did. Because it was her favorite, yes, but also because he always sang it. The man who shook his head in disappointment over all the other so-called embarrassing songs on her Spotify never failed to belt out John Denver with his entire soul.

She slowed, turning onto the path that wound through the trees, anticipation growing as the trees grew further apart, spreading into the dusty lawn she'd learned to ride a bike on. A turn and she saw it. Home. The front porch where she'd sat on her grandma's lap sipping lemonade. The ever present barn cat sitting on the top step, black tail twitching. Her dad's truck was parked crookedly near the back of the house and she could just see the sheets rippling in the breeze on the clothesline in the back yard.

Stopped, song still playing, she stared at the place she'd grown up, trying to view it as a newcomer. The grass needed mowing, the barn needed a new coat of paint. The roof on the old smokehouse was sagging a little. The porch railing looked crooked. But for every imperfection she saw a beautiful memory. How many millions of dandelions had she picked when the grass got a little tall? Up in the hay loft of the barn her name was carved into the top plank. The smokehouse, which had always held the lingering aroma of curing meat, had been the best spot during hide and seek. And she'd been leaning against that porch railing when she'd had her first kiss.

Her throat tightened with emotion.

Home.

"C'mon, mountain mama," Lewis said softly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

She wanted to apologize for not growing up rich, for not having a stately home to show him. She knew she didn't have to. Lewis didn't care about that, and he hadn't grown up much better than she had. He only cared about seeing where she'd been raised and meeting the people who'd raised her. What had he said when she'd asked him to come home with her?

I already love that little town because it made you.

She climbed out while he got Roscoe out of the backseat, and was opening her mouth to tell him they could get their bags later when the screen door banged.

"Is that my baby finally come to see me?"

It wouldn't matter if it had been two weeks or two months or two years, she would get that greeting. Not even bothering to close the car door she broke into a run, jumping the top step and laughing through tears as she was wrapped in her grandma's arms.

"Oh I miss these hugs." Grandma kissed her cheek, gripping her shoulders and holding her at arm's length. "Look at you. That boy of yours is treating you right, huh?"

"He is, Grandma," she promised, looking back to see Lewis closing the car door.

"Oh." Grandma squinted her eyes a bit. "He is handsome."

She giggled. "Heart of gold, Grandma."

"What's his name again? Louis?"

"Lewis."

As if he knew they were talking about him he glanced to the porch, smiling. Roscoe was already making his way to the steps, looking warily at the cat.

"Go on, get," Grandma said, shooing the cat away.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Grandma's shoulders were a little more stooped, her hands a little more shaky. Why oh why did time have to go by so quickly? Pushing away the invasive thoughts of her beloved grandmother not being around forever, she slid her hand into Lewis's once he was on the porch. "Grandma, this is Lewis. Lewis, this is Grandma."

"It's so nice to finally meet you, ma'am." He extended his hand and as soon as he smiled she knew her grandma was smitten.

"Oh honey aren't you sweet." She shook his hand. "Well, c'mon in – is that dog house trained?"

"Better than some humans," he promised with a grin.

They'd barely gotten into the house when her father came to greet them. He wasn't nearly as smitten as grandma, and she recognized the old macho act he'd played on all her old boyfriends. Then her mother came hurrying out of the kitchen, bringing with her the aroma of lemon meringue and peach cobbler.

There was overlapping chatter. Greetings and questions and the beginnings of an interrogation. Roscoe was cooed over by Grandma, given a begrudging welcome by her dad.

"I straightened up your old room," mama said when Lewis excused himself to go get their bags. "And got new sheets for your sister's old room."

"Is she staying too?" she asked in confusion, squatting to give Roscoe ear scratches.

"Of course not – you know her and Dale are almost finished the new addition on the back of their place? The twins will have a nice big playroom."

"Are the twins staying?" Why would mama need to do anything to her sister's room?

"No… It's for your boyfriend."

She froze. Oh god. Of course her mother would think… "Mama…"

"It's not fancy or anything but I don't think he'll mind do you? It's got plenty of room for him and Roscoe."

At that, Roscoe nudged her hand, silently begging for more scratches. "Mama, I thought he'd sleep in my room."

"Oh. Well you two can switch." Her mother shrugged.

"Jesus, Kathy, she wants to sleep with the boy," her father said loudly.

Surprise, Mama, I'm not a virgin!

"I don't think your dad likes me."

She looked up from unpacking her suitcase. Usually she didn't, usually she just rummaged to get what she needed, but she'd wanted a break before the rest of the family arrived for the cookout. The time change was affecting her a little and she wanted to get a nap in.

"What makes you say that?" she asked, setting her toiletry bag on the dresser.

"He calls me boy." Lewis was standing at the window, hands in his pockets, looking out at the back yard. Where her father and brother in-law were firing up the grill.

"He doesn't mean… He calls anyone younger than him boy," she promised.

"I get it. Really, babe," he said, looking over at her. "It just rubs me wrong."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" she asked, crossing the room.

"Will it change anything?"

"He's not like that, Lewis. He's southern, yes, he's a good ol' country boy, pickup truck, cold beer, guns and 'Murica, Toby Keith and Hank Jr, but he's not racist. If he's told that the way he says something is offensive, he stops saying it." She slipped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face to his back.

"It'll just make him like me even less," he sighed.

"No, babe… If he didn't like you, you wouldn't be in my bedroom."

He chuckled, covering her hands with his and interlocking their fingers. "Not only am I boy, I'm the asshole that deflowered his little girl."

She snorted at that. "Please, like I was an untouched virgin."

"How you were able to have sex way out here is a mystery to me."

"There are so many spots where you can go to be unseen," she told him.

Lewis hummed, unwrapping her arms and turning to face her. "Were you shagging farmer boys in the woods, babe?"

Leaning up, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "Once, yes. Most of the time it was in the cutoff down the old service road. Or out at the powerline."

"You weren't seduced in a bed?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I'm so sorry."

"And where was your first time, hm?"

He rolled his eyes. "Coat closet."

"That's even worse than a pickup truck."

"Didn't count, I wasn't in love."

"Oh see you didn't tell me that." Pulling on his hands, she walked backwards towards the bed. "That changes everything."

"Hotel room? Back seat of a car?" he guessed, letting her pull him along.

"A penthouse, actually," she murmured as she fell onto the bed.

He hesitated briefly then joined her, holding himself above her. "Penthouse? In Bumfuck Virginia?"

"You said it only counted if I was in love, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Penthouse. Monte-Carlo. Afterwards he took a bubble bath with me and we danced to Bob Marley." She watched his eyes soften and leaned up to meet his lips in a kiss. "He was the first one that made me feel loved."

"Does he still make you feel it?" he whispered between kisses.

"Every day."

"If he ever doesn't make you feel that way, will you tell him?"

"Yes." She kissed him again.

"Promise?" he whispered.

"Promise."

The food was delicious, and she was so happy her parents had made vegan alternatives for Lewis she could have cried. He seemed happy too, and during the meal she watched him talk with her dad and Dale, heart swelling each time he turned to praise her mama's cooking. Roscoe was parked between them, his gentle snoring just barely noticeable above the music playing.

It was a balmy evening, lightning bugs flashing as the sun sank low, and she watched Lewis's head drop back with a groan after he finished a third helping of Grandma's peach cobbler. "I think I hurt myself eating, ma'am."

Grandma glowed, patting his hand. "It's how I won her Papa," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Lewis chuckled, rubbing his abdomen with his free hand. "If I was twenty years older…"

She beamed as Grandma giggled, so obviously charmed she looked twenty years younger in the golden glow of the sinking sun. "Oh bless your heart, honey, I don't think you could handle me."

"I can barely handle her," Lewis told her in a stage whisper.

And she knew her family liked him. Their laughter was natural, the conversation flowed. Her twin nephews kept coming over to him, asking him questions about his tattoos, his jewelry, and she fell in love all over again at how patient and gentle he was with them.

When he insisted on helping with cleanup she saw the warmth of approval in her dad's eyes. The twins said they would help, too, and she could only look on as they followed him back into the house, Roscoe taking up the rear.

"He's a good one," Grandma said.

"He's alright." This from her dad, and it was the best she knew she could get for now.

"I like him a lot, honey. You ain't looked this happy in a long time." Mama squeezed her shoulder on her way past, and right behind her was her sister, flashing a grin as she helped gather the platters.

"You wanna take a walk?" her father asked.

It was a callback to her childhood. Dad always said it was to work off what he'd just had to eat, but she had figured out in her early teenage years it was his way of checking in on her. Their walks after dinner had been when they'd bonded, and as she fell into step next to him and they strolled beyond the barn she realized how much she missed these walks.

"I didn't want to like him."

She pressed her lips together to keep from asking why. Always best to just stay silent and let him get all his thoughts out in his own way.

"He's a little older than you. But I think that's what you need. Someone to keep your head from floating with the clouds." He sighed, snapping a leaf off the old oak tree as they walked under the branches. "And… You know how people are around here, honey."

She nodded. "But not you, dad," she whispered.

"I don't give a shit, you know that. But even Dale said something, and… I know you always worry about what people think."

"I used to," she said.

"You always hid away from the world. And I let you. Thought I was protecting you from how bad it can be sometimes." He twirled the leaf between his fingers, sending it swirling. "You're out in it, now. Can't protect you anymore."

"I don't need protecting, daddy," she promised.

"You telling me your knight back there doesn't protect you?" he asked, stopping at the fence to the back pasture. "That bo – sorry. That man loves you, honey."

"I know. And I love him."

"People around here will talk." He propped his arm on the fencepost and looked out. "Ain't got nothing better to do."

"I don't care what they say." And she didn't. She used to, yes, used to care too much, pretending to be someone else so she'd be accepted. The only people whose opinions mattered were inside the house and standing beside her.

"Good. Because I want him to come around more often."

"You like him?" she asked. She knew he did, but she needed to hear him say it.

"Yeah, he's alright," he chuckled. Throwing his arm around her shoulders when she groaned, he pulled her in close.

"Dad…"

"Rest easy, honey. I like him. Long as he treats you right I'll never say a word against him."

They stayed at the fence and she let herself be her dad's little girl for a few more minutes, watching the sunlight fade. Walking back to the house she could hear music still playing, but now instead of her dad and Dale's country it was the smooth beats of reggae and she was smiling as she entered the kitchen to see Lewis dancing with the twins to Is This Love.

He spun to face her, face lighting, and ducked to speak to her nephews then held a hand out to her, drawing her to him. His lips met her forehead. "I wanna love ya, I wanna love and treat, love and treat you right…" he crooned softly as they danced in her mama's kitchen.

"You better," she whispered. "Because I think they like you more than me."

His laugh was warmer than any sunlight, and she didn't mind at all when he kissed her then broke away to ask her grandma to dance.

She missed all of this, the love and the comfort and all the memories.

But she couldn't wait for the love and memories to come.

#f1 #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fic #my writings > lh #one parter

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puck-luck · 2 months

Text

play house with me | alex lyon

warnings: breeding kink HEAVYYYYY, use of mommy/mama/daddy but it’s very brief and not always related to the sex, obvious creampie???, childhood best friends to lovers &&& co-parents LOVE, mentions of breastmilk during the fucking (alex will totally want to try said breastmilk when it comes in), dirty talk pairing: alex lyon x fem!reader request: yes (alex lyon gets reader pregnant woohoooooo) wc: 2940

Everyone has made a deal like this before– especially those with guy best friends, like you. It didn’t help that you had had an on-again, off-again crush on Alex since you both were teenagers and he had grown into his looks. You had known him for practically your whole life and Alex was the picture-perfect boy next door with his dark curls and goofy personality, so it was a no-brainer when Alex proposed a pact.

You were both eighteen at the time, ready to go your separate ways for college. It was late, a warm and humid summer night, and you and Alex has just gone for ice cream. You were picking at your cup of ice cream with your spoon, watching it melt in the rapid summer heat. It was then that Alex said, “You know, if we’re thirty and neither of us are with someone else, we should have a kid.”

It was no secret that you wanted to have kids, nor a secret that Alex wanted to have kids, so the deal was a no-brainer. You said yes, not thinking much of it because… why wouldn’t you be with someone by age thirty?

Well, it’s funny. Yesterday was your thirtieth birthday, and here you are: single. Frustrated and annoyed can also describe your current state.

Alex had texted you the day before to wish you a happy birthday, promising to see you when he came back into town today. He should be on the way to your apartment right now and all you can think about is the deal you made twelve years prior.

You had no doubt about it– you wanted to have a baby and you wanted to do it with Alex. You just had to broach the subject, but you were torn about how to bring up the deal without sounding desperate or weird. There was a chance Alex wouldn’t even remember your deal, even though he was the one who thought of it in the first place.

When he arrives and knocks on your front door, you let him in with an awkward hug hello. It’s only awkward because you know that you’re about to ask him something that will change your friendship and relationship forever. Alex, always able to read you like an open book, notices that you’re acting weird immediately and calls you out on it.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Alex asks, quirking an eyebrow at you with a bemused smile. “Are you alright?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “How do you always know?”

Alex’s smile turns into a proud smirk. “Because I know you. What are you thinking about?”

“Just some stuff about you and turning thirty,” you reply, ready to explain yourself further.

Alex interrupts. “Thinking about our baby pact?”

You balk at him, shocked. “How did you know?”

“Again– because I know you.” Alex repeats. His gaze takes in your features, admiring you. He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “Plus, it’s part of the reason why I wanted to see you today.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask, a little laugh tinging your words. “You wanted to come over so we could discuss babies?”

“Isn’t that why you agreed to have me over?” Alex answers with his own question, smug because he knows he’s right. “So that we could even go a little further, since you’re thirty now, and our pact has to come to fruition?”

You blush, biting your lower lip and rolling your eyes. You’re pretending to be annoyed, but you’re really just fond. Alex does know you best, can practically read your mind and provide you with anything you want before you realize you want it. Before now, that mostly related to when you could go and get food together– he always knew exactly what you were craving, always taking you to the right restaurant that would hit the spot and satisfy you indefinitely.

Now, it’s a much bigger decision, one that will change your lives forever, but Alex is completely on board. So are you.

Once again, it’s a no-brainer.

“I wouldn’t complain,” you tease, purposefully coy.

“Good.” Alex sweeps you off your feet, carrying you over one shoulder. “We can talk about everything later. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for years.”

He says it casually, like that’s not the most Earth-shattering revelation you’ve ever heard. You and Alex had always toed the line of flirtation and all of your friends swore that you were meant to be, but things had never gone this far. You and Alex had never kissed, save for one accidental peck when you turned your cheek in surprise and caught his lips, the ones intending to meet your skin in a sweet greeting. It had caused a laugh, but it was the closest to romance that you and Alex had ever physically experienced.

Now, he’s tossing you on your bed and climbing above you like this is an everyday occurrence.

“Alex,” you say, putting a hand on his chest to stop his movements. “Are you really, really sure about this? It’s a big decision.”

“I’ve wanted to have a baby with you since I was five years old and you made me be the daddy when we played house,” Alex replies, leaning down to capture your earlobe between his teeth. “You were the mommy to our little baby doll and the idea never left my mind. Now we’re thirty, single, and I think we should make my dream a reality. I’m all in, Y/N.”

A breath of relief leaves your lungs at his reassurance. He mouths along your jaw, coming to hover with his lips just out of reach of your own. You look up at him, waiting for him to make a move.

Alex looks up from your lips, finding your eyes. “Are you really, really sure about this?” He parrots back, lips twisting up at the edges. “You’re the one who’s going to be tasked with carrying our baby.”

You make a soft noise of assent, the breathy moan pulled from your stomach like a gut-punch.

Alex chuckles. “You like that, huh?” He brushes a kiss against the left corner of your mouth, then the right. “You’re going to look so pretty all swollen and full of me. I want it so bad, Y/N. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I might have to keep you pregnant all the time– you’re going to glow, darling.”

Moaning again, you bring your hands up to his face and pull him into you, crashing your lips against his. Eager and desperate, you kiss him until you’re breathless and your cheeks have gone hot. As far as first kisses go, this is your favorite one you’ve ever had. Alex is confident and just as eager as you are, his tongue filling your mouth and tasting you like he could devour you. Inadvertently, you find yourself wondering how his tongue would feel against your clit and your entrance, but that can wait for another time.

Another time, because this will certainly be happening again. It’s the easiest decision you could ever make, seeking out Alex again. You’re comfortable with him, you’re happy when he’s around, and you love him deeply. You know him and he knows you. Your friends were right all along– you two are meant to be.

“Do you want it? I need you to tell me,” Alex implores between kisses, allowing his hands to roam over your body.

It’s distracting and it takes a moment for his words to click, especially when his hands find their way under your shirt and start to pet over the skin under which your ribs reside.

“I want it,” you cry when Alex’s fingertips graze your underboob. You whine when his fingers withdraw from your middle, but Alex soothes you with a whispered coo and a soft kiss to your lips.

He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bra underneath him. He grabs his own shirt by the back collar, pulling it over his head and revealing his bare chest to your wandering eyes. You drink him in, running your hands all over his warm body and feeling the ridges of the muscles he’s worked so hard to build and maintain over the years.

He brings a hand to your chest, cupping the swell of your breast and fishing your boob out of the article of clothing, pinching your nipple. After one final kiss, Alex brings his lips down and replaces his fingers with his teeth, nibbling at the peak of your breast before sucking.

You arch your back, your hand fisting his curls again. You moan out a wanton sound and you can feel Alex’s lips curve into a smile against your skin. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, kissing over your sternum and up your neck.

“So pretty, mama,” Alex mumbles against your skin, lips warm and scarring. You wish you could tattoo the path he takes along your chest, physically marking your body permanently so you never forget this. “Let’s make a baby, hm? Give me a real reason to use that name?”

“Give me a baby,” you agree, tousling his curls. “I wanna make you a daddy, Alex.”

Alex groans against your skin, popping the button on your jeans and drawing the zipper down. His mouth doesn’t leave your body, not even for a second as he struggles to work the tight denim down your body.

You adjust yourself on the bed, helping him push the fabric down. You take to his own bottoms, tugging eagerly at his waistband until he gets the hint and removes his shorts. You push him down, making him sit back against the headboard. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him. Still separated by the barrier of both of your underwears between you, you sink down on his bulge in a satisfying grind.

Alex’s hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him and rolling his own hips. He reconnects your lips, swallowing every sound you make and vice versa. He’s straining against his boxers, pulsing against you with each grind.

“I want to ride you,” you tell Alex. “Just like this.”

Alex moans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, knocking it against the headboard in the process. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “Want me to prep you?”

“No, I want to feel everything,” you say. “I want to feel your big cock stretch me all on its own before it fucks a baby into me.”

Your words only spur him on and he jostles you on his lap as he tries to remove his underwear without feeling your absence. You take matters into your own hands and remove yourself from his lap to take off your own underwear, tossing it onto the floor without another thought, the thin scrap of fabric joining the rest of your scattered clothes.

Both bare and dripping, you climb back on top of Alex, fitting his cock between your folds to grind against him before allowing him to breach your entrance. You spread your slick all over his member, using his precum and your wetness as lube.

Alex whines at the contact, clutching at your skin desperately after he removes your bra with both hands. Your boobs sit prettily on your chest, drawing Alex’s eyes and causing his pupils to swell. He cups one and licks over the nipple he hadn’t previously sucked, needing something to occupy his mouth and muffle his sounds. He’s far gone– the idea of filling you up has him channeling something primal, overtaken by his instinct to stuff you with his cock and thoroughly breed you.

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d been thinking about it for years– one of the images that caused him to spill over his fist countless of times in his twenties was just this: fucking you bare and starting a family with you, forever entertwining your souls and destinies in an irreversible way. You would be his, in this way, forever. He could shoot off now thinking about it, but the promise of the real thing stops him.

And the real thing comes sooner than he thinks, with you rising up onto your knees and lining him up with your entrance. You lower yourself down slowly, achingly slow. It takes everything out of Alex to not buck up into your heat as the head of his cock enters you with a jolt.

The sigh that leaves your mouth and the roll of your eyes chips away his restraint even more than your heat. All of your pretty noises are like a watering hole in the middle of the desert to Alex– and he’s lapping them up.

“Y/N,” Alex moans as you work your way down his shaft. Your walls hug him tightly, squeezing him as you take his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re made for me.”

“Alex,” you sigh, pressing his forehead against yours. You’re unable to form many words other than that– melting into a puddle of moans and whines as you find yourself sinking fully onto his length, enveloping him entirely. He reaches the deepest part of you, his tip nudging your back wall.

“Can’t wait to see these tits all full of milk,” Alex tells you, filling in the gaps of silence. He reaches up, cupping the weight in his palms and kissing over the smooth skin in his hands. “You’re going to be so great to our baby.”

You start to bounce on his cock, tossing your head back as the ecstasy of fulfillment washes over you. His words just spur you on.

“You’ll take care of them so well, won’t you?” Alex asks, his question rhetorical.

Your response is a moan and a stutter in your rhythm, which causes Alex to take over. He flips you over without pulling out, your back hitting the mattress and knocking the breath out of you.

Alex practically breathes life back into you when he kisses you, insistent but charged with the sweet love that you share for each other. It’s the love that you’ve shared since you were kids– and now, it’s the love that you’ll pass along to your child.

“Fuck, Alex,” you whine at the thought, unable to keep it to yourself. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alex says, kissing you again. His thrusts are harder in this position, hitting you deeper.

It feels impossible, being in this position with Alex. Yes, your friends had always said that you and Alex were meant to be, but there was a line you’d never crossed. You never expected to cross it. Now, with Alex inside of you and filling you so well, ready to start the next chapter of your lives with each other, you can’t imagine it any other way.

Alex continues, pushing you further towards your peak. “This pussy was made to take my babies, huh? Made just for me?”

“Yeah,” you agree, breathless, pulling Alex down to connect your lips. You can barely handle the words, much less the little noises and grunts that fill your mouth during the kiss.

It’s like you’re becoming one being. Everything is perfect, and you’re feeling so good that your orgasm approaches quicker than expected.

“Alex, ‘m gonna come,” you let out, holding him tight.

“Let it go, lovebug,” Alex coos, tracing the line of your cheek with a light touch. “I’m right there with you.”

Your eyes roll back and your mouth opens in a silent scream. Alex continues to fuck into you, prolonging the waves of pleasure that overtake you with each bump of his cockhead against your g-spot. You’re moaning unintelligibly, jumbled words falling from your mouth and barely reaching Alex’s ears.

He shoots off when you keen into his mouth, teeth clashing in a messy union that has you on the verge of laughter. You’ve never laughed during sex before, but it just seems right. Everything with Alex seems right.

His seed fills you and warms you from the inside out, settling deep in your core and coating your walls in the weirdest, most unique feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can feel the come dripping down from your ridges, letting gravity take control as it starts to leak out of you when Alex pulls out.

You pout, closing your legs as much as you can with Alex still between them in order to keep his release from leaving you, desperate for it to take.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Alex soothes, brushing your hair away from your face and thumbing over the sweat on your brow.

You don’t reply, enamored by the way his own curls have gone sweaty and his cheeks and dusted with a blush from the exertion of your union. You bite your lip as Alex opens his mouth to speak again, admiring his straight white teeth in a moment that should be weird, but isn’t. You hope your baby has his teeth– no need to pay for braces, not that that’s something you’d have to worry about with Alex’s salary.

“We’re going to go again in a bit, I think,” Alex muses, his words a proposition rather than a command, despite his definitive tone. He kisses over your face, little pecks that make you giggle again. His lips find yours, sweet and chaste. When he pulls away, he whispers conspiratorially in your ear. “Gonna fuck you all night to make sure this takes.” He winks, a smile crossing his face. “Join me in the shower, mama? I want to wash your hair for you.”

note: this is for my lyon girlie who was all up in my asks, ily <3 i hope i captured your man well and you enjoyed this <3

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#alex lyon #alex lyon smut #alex lyon x reader #alex lyon x y/n #al34 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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nocasdatsgay · 2 months

Text

A Nest of Her Own

Pairing: Nesta/Eris | Word Count: 812 | Rating: T

Warnings: Omegaverse

Summary: Day One- Nesting. Eris has a surprise for Nesta. Still practically a new fae, she doesn’t know what to make of this… bed?

Read on Ao3 Here or Read Below| For @acotar-omegaverse-week

Tags: @mybestfriendmademe @hieragalbatorixdottir (I feel like I am missing someone if I am just comment and I will) Also Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Nesta didn’t know what to expect when she was finally allowed into the room Eris had closed off for a ‘surprise’. She definitely didn’t expect what she was looking at. In front of her was a bed. Now she was wondering why Eris seemed so pleased with himself. Chest puffed out, the loose white shirt still stretching slightly as he watched her reaction. After a few more moments, she turned to him, arms crossed against her chest.

“It’s a bed.”

Eris seemed taken aback, the smug look on his face wiped away in an instant.

“It’s a nest,” he frowned. “Do you not like it?”

Nesta frowned in return. “It’s a bed. A comfortable one from the looks of it. Is this your way of telling me you don’t want me to share your room?”

Eris reached up, one arm still crossed against his chest, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gods they didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

There were many things her sister and that court neglected to tell her when she became fae. She didn’t quite understand why Eris was so worked up over it. He knew her knowledge was limited and together they had worked to bridge that gap.

She added. “I cannot confirm what I don’t know if you don’t tell me what it is.”

He finally lowered his hand and sighed. Amber eyes met her gaze and thankfully didn’t look at her with pity.

“Your secondary sex is omega. You remember we discussed heats?” Nesta nodded, a flush coming onto her cheeks. She remembered that vividly. “That is what a nest is for. Mostly. It’s also just there for comfort when you get overwhelmed.”

She looked back at the bed- nest. It did look comfortable. Soft fur encompassed it; the perimeter raised as if it had a built- in pillows on top of the ones present. She recognized several blankets; all of them Eris’s. And his cloak. She stepped forward, leaning in to inspect the bed further when the smell hit her.

“Oh,” she sighed.

His smell flooded her senses. She picked up the cloak and buried her face in it. Every muscle in her body relaxed. She kicked off her shoes and climbed into the nest, his scent becoming stronger. She could bury her face in every inch of this bed- nest. In the back of her mind, she knew she should be embarrassed, rolling around like one of the hounds in mud, wrinkling her dress and ruining her hair. Yet she didn’t care; she’d never felt more safe.

“You like it?” His voice brought her back to herself. She looked up to see him standing by the nest, grinning.

“Why?” She couldn’t get out any other word.

She meant to say yes. But Eris knew her well enough now to know that. His grin didn’t falter.

“We are mated. My scent calms you down because I am your alpha. When you get your heat, this will make it easier.”

She hummed, pulling the cloak over her body. “Why are you just standing there?”

“It’s only polite to wait to be invited in,” he smiled down at her. “This is yours. I am just privileged to set it up for you.”

“So when you deny me a second dessert I can come here and you won’t bother me?”

He leaned forward, red hair falling off of his shoulder and dangling down near her face.

“As if I deny you anything.” His smirk sent a pleasant jolt through her stomach. “It’s usually you denying me.”

“Someone has to tell you no.” She replied sternly.

“Is this your way of telling me to leave?” He arched his brow.

She pretended to think about it for a moment. “I suppose you can join me.”

He climbed in and kissed her forehead as she moved over to allow him space.

“Will it always smell like you?” She asked scooting over once he settled.

“No. Most of the time pesky omegas steal things from their alphas to make their nest and keep it smelling like them. Instead of stealing, just ask me- I’ll give you whatever you want to put in here.”

“Like this shirt?” She ran her hand over his chest stopping at the top of his trousers.

“If you wanted me naked my love, you could have just said it.” His scent thickened, mingling with her own. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the tips of her fingers.

“You just made the bed.”

“It’s a nest.” He maneuvered over her and her breath quickened at the press of his want against her. “And it’s made to be ruined.” He gathered her skirt in one of his hands, tugging it up. “Shall we break it in?”

“You’re such a scoundrel,” she laughed, wiggling her hips against him.

He took that as a yes.

Part 2 | Part 3

#acotar omegaverse #eris vanserra #acotar #nesta archeron #nesting #Omegaverse week day 1 #eris makes her a nest and his ego is bruised #only a little #acotar-Omegaverse-week

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redroomreflections · 2 months

Text

Before She Cheats Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of Nat cheating on R.

The Loud House universe - an au to the au (since y'all want me to clarify lol)

Note: I didn't anticipate this being so long actually.

w:c 3.2k

Her car isn’t in the driveway. It’s a relief to you. You come home like you did that afternoon to find the house empty this time. You grab the stack of mail, filtering through it mindlessly, before dropping it on the foyer table. There’s not much you want to do today. There’s no pressing matter that needs your attention. Your entire life has been turned upside down and you don’t know what to do. You venture further into your home. You feel unsettled here. Like everything was fake. Everything you know was a lie.

You don’t waste time heading straight for the wine cellar. You grab a bottle of Carbanet Sauvignon and another in case you need that too. You’re not much of a drinker. Not since your party days in college at least. Today you think you will need it. You need to feel something else other than the pain inside of your chest.

You grab the corkscrew off the shelf and head back up to the kitchen. You don't bother getting a glass. You just sit at the counter with the bottle in your hand. You drink straight from the bottle. It takes you two sips to get past the burning in your throat and the sour aftertaste. The second one goes down much smoother. You wonder if that was the wine or if your body has finally acclimated to the taste. You check your watch. On a Sunday at 12 pm, you both would be home. The kids would be watching cartoons, or doing some form of art, while you and Natasha prepared Sunday dinner. Then you'd all sit down as a family and prepare for the week. That's how it's always been. A little monotonous but your life nonetheless. The kids enjoyed it. You enjoyed it.

But that's not how today was going to go. There is no Sunday dinner. There is no family. You're drinking straight from the bottle in the kitchen of your home. Natasha is most likely out for a run. When she's stressed, nervous, or needs a release she runs or trains for hours. It's one of the things you know about your wife. One thing you're not surprised about with her.

You take another gulp. The third gulp. And then a fourth. This wasn't supposed to be your life. You're not supposed to be the wife who waits for her spouse to come home so you can talk about divorce. You're not supposed to be the woman scorned.

The alcohol hits you after a while. It's not enough to get you drunk, but it's enough to dull the pain in your heart. Your phone vibrates, lighting up across the counter, and you pick it up. It's Cara. She's wondering when you guys are going to come and get them. You text back a reply about later that evening. You and Natasha need to discuss some things. You swipe down on your lock screen, noting and ignoring the missed calls and text messages, you'd seen from Natasha. You couldn't handle talking to her over the weekend. You were afraid of what you might say.

"You're back, " A voice from the kitchen entrance startles you.

"Natasha, when did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago."

"Oh," You say plainly.

"You've been drinking?" She furrows her brow. "This early? Y/n..."

"Don't lecture me," You stand. The bottle is empty, and you place it on the counter. "I'm going upstairs."

"No. We need to talk."

"What do we need to talk about?"

"Us..." She begins. "I want to talk with you."

"Natasha, we tried this weekend."

"Yeah. We did, and you ignored me. I called, and I texted, and you did nothing but ignore me."

"I needed time." You sigh. "You can't blame me for not knowing how to take the news that my wife of ten years cheated on me."

"I know... I know that's what it is." Natasha stepped closer to the counter. "i want a chance to explain."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Y/n..."

"Stop," You turn on her. "I can't... I can't look at you. I can't listen to you."

"Eventually you have to," She tries.

"Why when everything out of your mouth has been a lie?" You bite. "Tell me, did you plan it?"

"What?"

"Did you plan it? To have an affair? Because if you did I need to know. If this was your plan from the beginning."

"No, of course not," Natasha shakes her head. "It just happened."

"Just happened," You nod. "Of course."

"I swear, I didn't mean for this to happen. It just did."

"It just did."

"It did." She argues.

"Are you ready to tell me the truth then?" You look to her. For the first time this weekend you truly look at her and it pains you. She's still beautiful.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Are you going to tell me the real reason you slept with someone else?"

"It was a mistake. It was a terrible mistake."

"I want to know, Natasha," You demand. "I want to know everything. How it started. Where it started. I don't buy you getting drunk and sleeping with her one time at lunch. I've slept next to you for twelve years."

"Okay," She nods.

"How did it start? Did you meet her at the compound first? Did she hit on you or something? Did she offer you something I couldn't?"

"No." She pauses. "She didn't offer me something you couldn't. I just... we met at the compound. She is a temp for HR. She's young. Not that much younger than us but..."

"How old is she?"

"I don't know. Maybe twenty-five or twenty-six."

"Younger," You scoff. "Go on."

"She did everything to get my attention at first," Natasha continues. "We don't interact that much with other departments but like I said I had a lot to go over with my contract."

"She wanted you. So she went after you."

"I didn't sleep with her then," She clarifies.

"When then? When did you sleep with her?"

"It was during spring break," She starts. "We had been talking on and off before then but..."

You narrow your eyes. That was the week you took the kids down to Atlanta to visit your mother. Natasha had opted to stay home with the excuse of doing business. You didn't mind then. She was a little unresponsive when you sent messages but you thought she was busy.

"You were home."

"Not really," She shakes her head.

"I didn't know that. You told me you were at the compound all week."

"I wasn't."

"So did you plan to be with her while I was out of town?"

"No, not really. She was at the compound, and I was bored so we went out for drinks."

"You had plans, then?"

"No. No. Nothing planned." Natasha continues. "She kissed me that night. I told her to stay away from me."

"She didn't?"

"No," Natasha confirms.

"What did you do? What happened?"

"She invited me to her office to apologize. We were there late. I had been drinking. I wasn't drunk," Natasha stands stiffly. "I wasn't... I didn't mean for it to happen. We had a great conversation. She was there and I...I just. It just happened."

"You had an affair." You nod. "This was before we adopted Luke. Did you think you could continue to hide this from me?"

"No," She denies. "I didn't plan for any of this to happen. I didn't."

"How many times?"

"How many times what?"

"How many times did you sleep with her?" You're not sure you want the answer but you prepare yourself for it anyway.

"A lot. But not often."

"How many?"

"Three."

"Three times," You shake your head. "Three fucking times."

"Y/n... I'm sorry."

"Was she good?" You laugh. "Was it everything you imagined."

"No." She shakes her head. "That's not why I did this."

"You were lonely. I can understand that. But you could've talked to me." Your voice breaks. You hate that about yourself. You become too emotional.

"I know."

"Why her?" You ask.

"I don't know."

"Is that why you came home every day looking so refreshed and full of energy. Like you had a good day?"

"I'm sorry," She tries again.

"How can I ever trust you again?"

"We can try."

You look down at your hand. Your ring is still there. It's a part of you now. It's your identity. Natasha's is still there too. You don't think you can take it off.

"What's her name?"

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't." You shrug. "It's just a name."

"Claire."

"Claire, " You repeat the name. It's plain. "What does she look like?"

"Y/n..." Natasha is cautious about telling you that much.

"I'm not going to go and beat her up if that's what you're thinking," You roll your eyes. "Even though I want to the liability is not on her. You are the one that's married. "

"She's beautiful," Natasha relents.

"Beautiful," You repeat. "What does she look like? Do we look similar?"

"No. Nothing like you."

"Does she have long hair? Short? Dark? Light? Is she curvy?"

"Why does this matter, y/n?"

"I just want to know what it is that she has that I don't." You shrug. "Maybe she eats pussy better. Maybe she lets you tie her up. Allows you to record her? That's something you've never experienced before."

"Don't," Natasha warns.

"What does she have?"

"She's not you." Natasha tells you.

"I know that." You chuckle. "But is she better?"

"I don't want to answer that," Natasha shakes her head again. "That's not why I did it."

"What is then? If it wasn't boredom. What was it?"

"I don't know," She says weakly.

"Did I bore you? Was I not adventurous enough for you?" You begin to ramble. "Did I not experiment enough for you?"

"No, that's not it. That's not it."

"Was our sex life not exciting enough for you?" You continue. "I knew our sex life was not the best lately, but we could've talked about it."

"Y/n... Stop."

"Why did you do it? Tell me. I need to know, Tasha. I need to know what I did to make you look elsewhere."

"It wasn't you."

"So what was it then?" You practically shout.

"I don't know."

"I need more than that."

"It was a mistake."

"It's an easy mistake to make," You bite. "You didn't have to sleep with her."'

"I didn't," She stares blankly.

You reach for the second bottle of red wine. Natasha almost opens her mouth to stop you but thinks better of it.

"My parents were married for thirty years, " You suck your teeth. You pour yourself a hefty amount of wine. "They had a strong marriage before my dad died. A healthy one. A loving one. I guess I was naive in thinking I could have that too."

"You can have that, y/n."

"Do you still want that?"

"Yes." She doesn't hesitate. "I still want to be with you."

"But not in the way I want." You remind her. "Not in a way that doesn't involve infidelity. I asked myself over the weekend. Do I just sit by and continue to live life with you knowing that you stepped out of our marriage? Knowing that while I was at home being a faithful wife you were out letting someone inside of you. She was tasting and touching and feeling what I thought was mine."

"Y/n..."

"How many times did she go down on you?" You cut her off.

"What?"

"How many times did she taste you? How many times did you let her between your legs and fuck her until you couldn't cum anymore."

"I already told you it was just three times," Natasha doesn't know if you want to know these things to hurt yourself further.

"Just three times," You shake your head.

"Yes."

"And how many times did you taste her?"

"That's enough, y/n," Natasha steps back.

"How many times?"

"Three," She replies.

"Three." You scoff. "I hope it was worth it."

"It's not."

"Do I need to get tested?" You ask. "We've slept together between those times. Not as much as you'd like but there is still a possibility." "No, she's clean," Natasha answers. "I made sure."

"Is that what you wanted?" You step toward her. You're angry, and the alcohol is starting to mess with your brain.

"What?"

"Is that what you wanted when you married me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you even know who I am, Natasha?" You push. "Is this what you wanted when you got married?"

"You know who I am," Natasha answers. "You've known who I was when we met."

"Maybe I should've asked the real questions." You shrug. "Instead, I was just so happy and in love I didn't bother."

"You're everything I've ever wanted."

"So why?" You swipe away a tear before it can fall.

"I don't have an answer for you."

"How long are you going to be here?" You squeeze your eyes shut. You can't keep looking at her. Your resolve is breaking.

"I don't have to leave if that's what you're implying."

"We're not staying together, Natasha," You turn away from her. "I'm not going to beg you to love me. I'm not that person. I won't ever be."

"Please, y/n," She reaches for you, but you pull away.

"Don't touch me," You mutter. You don't know what to do. The one person you've always looked to for comfort is standing right before you and you want nothing from her.

"We can work through this."

"Natasha, don't." You step away.

"I didn't plan this."

"What did you think would happen? That I would just accept it?"

"No."

"No," You repeat.

"I was hoping you would be more understanding."

"You were hoping." You laugh. "More understanding. Do you know how I felt when you told me you slept with someone else and then lied about the entire thing?"

"I was just trying to protect you."

"You were protecting yourself." You correct. "You were scared."

"Yes," She agrees.

"If you wanted this over, you should've said so a long time ago."

"But I didn't," Natasha frustatedly tried to explain.

"How would you feel..." You trail off. You're not sure you want to broach this topic. "If I were to contact one of my exes. If I were to call Melinda Whitlock right now and tell her that actually I made a mistake. I married the wrong person and I needed her to come and fuck me right now."

You can see the slight tick of her jaw. Natasha hates Melinda Whitlock. One of your longest relationships. Melinda still has a few of your mutual connections and you see her from time to time as she's a pediatrician at the clinic you take the kids.

"I..."

"If I were to tell her that I still have fantasies about her eating my pussy and how I wished she was my wife instead of you. If I told her that, would you be okay with it?"

"I... I don't know."

"No," You shake your head. "You wouldn't."

"You can't compare me and Claire to you and Melinda."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't do this intentionally."

"So, it's an accident then?" You raise an eyebrow. "You just slipped and fell on her tongue?"

"Y/n..."

"Why are you pretending that it's so wrong for me to ask questions?" You frown. "I want to know everything because I want to know if this person was worth you losing everything."

"It wasn't," Natasha insists.

"If this is really the end of us, " You pause. "I need to know who it is that ruined everything. Because I know I'm not perfect, but I tried. I was faithful. I loved you. I still love you."

"I'm sorry."

"I am too," You whisper.

"What do you want?"

"I need you to answer me honestly." You breathe. There's a pregnant pause. You both know what's coming.

"I don't think you want to ask me that." Natasha refuses.

"Do you love her?" You look into her eyes. Those green eyes that you've fallen in love with over and over again.

"No," Natasha is quick to answer.

"Do you want her?"

"I..." Natasha sighs.

"Natasha, I'm asking you a simple question."

"I'm sorry."

"Has she met any of our children?" You ask suddenly.

"What? No."

"Are you sure? Maybe when I was on business trips."

"No," Natasha repeats.

"What do you like about her?"

"It's not her, y/n."

"I think I'm done with this conversation," You take a shaky breath. "I don't want to take the kids from you. They love you too much. It would hurt them."

"What are you saying?"

"I'll find another place. For now, I'll stay at a hotel."

"Where will the kids go?"

"They'll stay here in their home," You offer. "I will try to be as present as possible. My lawyer will contact yours. I don't want your money. I don't want this house. I don't want..." You take a sharp inhale of breath. You can't do this.

"Y/n..."

"Just leave," You shake your head. "We will talk later."

"Y/n," She pleads.

"Just fucking leave," You yell. "Wait," You call after her. She turns to you. "You have to be the one to tell the kids."

"What am I supposed to tell them?"

"You're their mother, figure it out," You dismiss.

"When?"

"Next week."

"What will we tell them?"

"We are getting a divorce." You begin. " They will ask questions."

"So will they stay with you or me?"

"Both," You decide. "I'll find a place."

"How will this work?"

"We will have joint custody." You decide. "I will ask for pickups and drop-offs to be done by a third party."

"Okay," Natasha nods.

"For now, they will stay with you. You can pick them up. When they're at school, I will see them. You can keep them with you during the summer."

"You've thought about this a lot," Natasha raises a brow.

"I did," You shrug. "I wanted to protect them."

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"I don't believe that." You cross your arms. "You're not even fighting any of this. You're not even on your knees begging for me to forgive you."

"Would it help?"

"No," You deny. "You made the decision. You made the choice."

"Y/n..."

"I need time, Tasha," You sigh.

"What will this look like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will we still be friends?"

"Friends," You repeat.

"For the sake of the kids," She tries to explain.

"Isn't that a little selfish of you? To hurt me like that and still want to be friends," You toy with the ring on your finger.

"Y/n... I didn't mean it."

"I know, Natasha." You shake your head. "Just give me some time."

"Can we talk later? After the kids go to bed?"

"What could you possibly have to say that will make this better?"

"Just..." She pauses. "I don't want our marriage to end like this."

"Then don't," You suggest.

"Y/n," She tries again.

"No," You say sternly. "Just... no."

"You can't hate me forever."

"I can try," You mumble.

"Please."

"No." You stand tall.

"Y/n," She pleads one last time.

"Goodbye, Natasha." You turn and head toward the staircase. "You can sleep in the guest bedroom."

As you brush past her, Natasha looks back towards the counter. You left your ring there. Standing by its lonesome. She feels like it represents you in that moment. Alone and empty.

She walks into the kitchen and picks up the ring. It's warm and heavy. She wants to bring it upstairs and put it back on your finger. She wants to take it all back. But she knows she can't.

—-> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #black widow x female reader

283 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 10 months

Text

Family // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius Black, the usually happy prankster within Hogwarts, had a special skill for hiding his emotions. Until one day, he's forced to face the realities of the troubles with his family.

Requested by: @bullets-from-another-dimension Thank you so much for the request and for showing me that Sirius needs a little more love! I hope you like this fic, and thanks for your support with the poly!marauders ♥

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff (also lots!), emotional hurt, discussion of Sirius' abusive family, disowned, crying, hugs/kissing, polyamory relationship, nipple play, body worship, making out, oral sex (m receiving), happy ending

A/N: This is just a little PSA that I'll be going through my other Poly!Marauders fics sometime soon to change some bits to make sure that each of the boys is getting enough love! It won't be anything major for the overall story, just spreading the love equally as it appears Sirius may have been skipped a few times (and I don't want that!), so check for an 'edited' note on the story. Thank you for pointing this out to me!

Words: 4.8k

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The last 24 hours had been an emotional rollercoaster, with both positives and negatives coming to light. It had started with the ultimate showdown game of Quidditch between Slytherin and Gryffindor; with both Sirius and James on the team. You and Remus had been nervous wrecks just for the game, let alone all the tension drowning within the two enemy houses. This escalated outside of the pitch, with wands having to remain in hands between lessons to prepare for sabotage attacks from either team.

It was endlessly tiring the days leading up to the events, and it was some kind of a miracle to be standing in the Gryffindors' stands without a single injury. Now, however, you and Remus had to live through the fear of watching your boyfriends fly around with their roles as Seeker and Beater.

You were sure you’d accidentally bitten your nail down to the cuticle by the end of the match, and your throat felt as if you’d swallowed sandpaper with how sore it was with the screaming and shouting you’d been doing in support. There was instant relief as James finally caught the snitch, and everyone cheered.

“Do you think he’ll be ok?” you shout up to Remus, who, with his height difference, could see over the crowd to where the commotion was occurring on the pitch. As James had dived for the snitch, so had the Slytherin’s seeker, who just happened to be Sirius’ brother, Regulus. However, in mid-dive, Regulus accidentally knocked into one of the goalposts, hitting his head and falling from his broom. Thankfully to the Slytherins, Sirius had been close by and caught his falling brother from gaining any further injuries.

Remus was nodding to your question, “Yes, he’s walking away, well - he’s pushing Sirius away, so I’m sure he’s just fine”, he explained, watching Regulus shove Sirius, so the man stumbled away. A pang of guilt settled heavily in your stomach at the thought of the brothers arguing. You knew that the relationship between Sirius and his brother was non-existent these days, and it only made you feel more awful for your boyfriend, understanding how difficult it must have been to lose his family in the way he has.

You couldn’t ponder on these thoughts as the entirety of Gryffindor and the vast majority of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began celebrating the win. This included Sirius, who scooped you into an exaggerated hug, spun you high into the air, and carefully placed your feet back onto the floor.

“Was your brother alright?” You shout to Sirius over the noisy crowd forming around the winning team. For a split second, you witness sadness filling his grey eyes before he snaps out of it and a beaming smile replacing the momentary lapse in his emotions.

“Oh, he’s fine; I’m sure a quick knock to the head will bring some sense to him. Anyway, come on, let’s all go back to the common room; I have a special surprise for everyone”. Sirius was great at many things, and covering his emotions was one of them. Any attempts to open up about the situation regarding his family would change the subject within the blink of an eye. You respected that he didn’t want to talk about any of his family members, but you still kept a close eye on him, making sure that he didn’t pent up his emotions until he was at breaking point, which you feared would occur one day as there was only so much one person could go through.

The interaction with Regulus seemed to have been forgotten in the madness of celebrating, which ran into the early morning hours in the Gryffindor common room. It would have continued later, but Professor McGonagall arrived in her dressing gown and demanded everyone go to bed. Sirius needed the most help to bed, having drunk the ‘surprise’ fire whiskey he regretted deeply in the morning.

“I’m never drinking again. Who’s idea was it anyway to bring Firewhiskey?!” came the deep groan of the man lying face first beside you, his face thoroughly buried into the pillow. Your temples were pounding slightly; you’d felt worse hangovers, but it was still uncomfortable as you rolled over towards Sirius.

Your arm wrapped over his naked back, face pressed over his shoulder blade as you could feel the toned muscles adjusting to your presence as you melted into his warmth. “It was your idea. I’m never falling for your charms ever again, Sirius”, you mumbled against his skin, reminiscing on his sweet talking skills from last night that convinced you to have a drinking competition with him.

This pulled him out of the half-unconscious state as his mop of hair turned in your direction. The movement caused you to roll off him and witness the beautiful sight of his morning glow; even in his hangover, he was handsome with one eye squished closed as the room was too bright.

Sirius turned his body entirely towards you, huffing as he moved, and you refrained from trying to reach out and control the usually silky locks of hair that were now all knotted and tangled on the top of his head. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure my charms made you cum three times before the fire whiskey joined the party,” he commented confidently and admired the warmth that filled your face. You attempted to hide your smile at the memories but were soon fully scream-laughing as Sirius tried to break your facade by tickling your sides.

Pushing him away, you turned and nuzzled into the naked chest of James, who remained asleep even through your loud laughter, but his arms still wrapped around your shoulders protectively. Besides James, you could see Remus was awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Remusssss, Sirius is being mean to me”, you drawl childishly.

The man sighed, dropping his hands to give you and Sirius a pointed look, “Please, children, it’s too early, and my head is too painful for you to make this much noise”.

Sirius smirked as he spooned in close behind you, wrapping his arm around you and James as everyone tried to have a few more moments of beautiful sleep before breakfast, and class pulled the four of you from the safety of the bed.

The food helped to settle the hangovers that the majority of Gryffindor seemed to be nursing this morning, much to the displeasure of McGonagall, who was glaring at her house from the Professor’s table. Sitting beside James, you leaned across him for another slice of toast as Sirius sat opposite you with Remus next to him.

As everyone started to be rejuvenated with energy from the breakfast, the owls began to swoop in and deliver the mail for the day. An emerald-coloured envelope landed on Sirius's lap, which caught the attention of you and the fellow Marauders. You already had your suspicions about who the letter was from. Sirius mostly confirmed it, as he had hardly read the letter before shoving it into his bag and brushing off any attempts at discussing who it was from.

“It’s nothing, just some spam letter. So, who do we have first today? Is it transfiguration? I can’t imagine that will be fun with how angry McGonagall looks right now.” Sirius changed the subject, but it didn’t convince any of you as you eyed him sadly. He didn’t wait for a response as he stood, gripping his bag so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Come on, otherwise we’ll be late”.

You knew something was off just by the quipped tone of his voice, and the humour and light that always seemed to dance in his eyes had been significantly dimmed. Even as James tried to humour him with his usual party tricks and jokes, it only earned him a half-assed chuckle from Sirius. Remus even attempted to pull him aside before entering the classroom to see if he needed a moment alone to talk, but Sirius just distracted him with a quick kiss and said he was fine.

You were quick to sit next to Sirius near the back of the classroom, smiling brightly with the hopes that he would return it, but it seemed he was lost in his thoughts as he idly arranged his parchment paper and quills. Thankfully, as the class began, his hand rested on your thigh so you could link both fingers together, lifting it and kissing the back of his hand.

As McGonagall began to teach the class, you leaned closer to Sirius, savouring the warmth that radiated off him and smelling the citrusy scent from his aftershave. “Is everyone ok, Sirius?” Your voice was barely audible so as not to disrupt the class, but you knew he heard as his posture stiffened, and he nodded his head, fake smiling for a second before returning his attention to the teacher. “I know there’s something wrong. Talking might help; I mean - I want to help-”

“Excuse me at the back. Is there something more important than my lesson?” McGonagall demanded with a passive-aggressive raised eyebrow as all other eyes turned to look at you and Sirius.

As your mouth opened to take the blame, your boyfriend beat you to it, “Sorry, Professor. That was my fault I was distracting her”.

“You’re already on thin ice after last night's antics, Mr Black. See me after class to arrange a detention”.

Your mouth drops open to retort to her and tell him it wasn’t Sirius, but the hand holding yours squeezes, stopping you from saying anything. As McGonagall turns back to write on the chalkboard, you lean close to harshly whisper, “You didn’t have to do that, Sirius! That should have been my detention!”

“It’s only one detention, I don’t care”, he shrugs nonchalantly, releasing your hand to begin writing his notes. You frown so deeply that a line forms between your eyebrows as you glance towards Remus and James, who have similar expressions of worry, especially as Sirius hasn’t even attempted to have any sort of friendly banter with McGonagall like he usually did.

At lunch, Sirius had somehow managed to slip away from the group, and your head seemed to be fixated towards the entrance to the Great Hall, neck straining to see over the other students as you waited for him to walk in.

“I mean, it’s not just me, right? There’s definitely something wrong with him”, you say before nervously nibbling on your lower lip.

Remus’ hand cups your shoulder, gripping gently as he agrees, “It’s not just you. I tried to talk to him before the lesson, but he just pushed me away. He just wants to be by himself; I’m sure he’ll be just fine”.

You nod to yourself but don’t believe his words. Yes, Sirius was strong and had been putting on a strong appearance for years, but he never pushed himself away from the three of you. It was like an invisible angel on your shoulder, trying to nudge you towards him, knowing something wasn’t right.

“Have either of you got the Marauder's map?” you ask Remus and James, who then check their pockets and school bags but cannot find the map.

“Sorry, Love, he’s probably got it with him”, James reports, appearing as deflated as you felt.

Standing from the table, the anxious causing your stomach to clench with unease and unable to eat, you inform the two of them, “I’ll be back later; I just need to make sure he’s ok and safe”.

Remus and James nod in understanding and watch you go. As you stand in the entrance to the Great Hall, you’re unsure where to start and what's worse is that he could be in his Padfoot form, which means he’d be able to hear you coming and run away. There were the grounds to search, Hogsmeade, the entirety of the enormous castle; there were plenty of places for him to be.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to search the dormitory first, hoping the map had been left in a draw up there.

Opening the door to the dormitory room that you shared with your boyfriends, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius, lying face first on the shared bed, his head turned away from the doors but from the noticeable sniffling noises and his shoulders shaking, you knew he was crying. Your heart felt like someone had reached inside your chest and squeezed as the sight rocked you. Silently as you could, you slipped your shoes off and placed your school bag onto the floor.

You knew he was aware someone else was in the room as his cries softened, and he subtly tried to wipe his face into the pillow. As you began to crawl onto the bed, you could see he was spooning the pillow you usually used to sleep on, clutching it desperately close to his chest. You had to remember to breathe through your nose, remain strong, and not descend into your emotions.

Kneeling next to him, your hand gently met the centre of his back, rubbing slow, comforting circles into his white shirt, hoping the action would comfort him. “Sirius, what’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing's wrong” he tried to brush it off, but you could hear the thickness of his voice as he tried to hide his face further in the pillow beneath his head.

“Is it about the letter from earlier? Who sent it to you?” Even though you knew he didn’t really want to talk about it, you knew he’d also built a wall around his emotions and wanted him to feel like he was in a safe enough space to talk, like the many times he’d done the same for you. Reaching over with your other hand, you ran your fingers through the long strands of dark hair, brushing them out of his face that was still turned away from you. “Talk to me, my love, please. I want to help you”.

Reluctantly, Sirius turned over and began to pull you down to lie in the centre of the bed. You did so and spread your arms wide as he moved to lie on your chest, the top of his head resting beneath your chin as you hugged him closely.

“No one important sent me the letter, it’s fine. I just want to cuddle”, he admits with a sigh, relaxing into the hold, the pillow he’d been spooning now forgotten about as he had the real thing instead, finding comfort instantly. In this position, you could hold him close and do the same actions as before, stroking gently up and down his back whilst also playing with his hair.

You want to tell him that you knew who the letter was from, but he seemed content with being held instead for a couple of minutes until you felt dampness seeping across the column of your neck and down your chest as his shoulders began to shake once more.

“Sirius-?”

“It was from my parents. The letter, I mean. Fuck! I don’t know, it's so stupid.” he sits up abruptly, aggressively wiping away the leaked tears he’d been desperately trying to stop.

Sitting beside him, you rubbed his shoulders while trying to calm him down from his overwhelming emotions. “It’s not stupid, my love.” As you talk, you grip his twists to pull them away so he can look into your face and hopefully see the love there. “Your parents, they’re awful people, Sirius, and anyway, you’re perfectly within your right to show emotions every once in a while; I just need you to know that I’m here for you, we’re all here for you, no matter how you are feeling. It’ll be ok”.

Even though it was comforting for him to hear the words, it still seemed to break something within him. Like a crack had formed in the dam as he relented with his cries, openly sobbing into his hands. Whilst trying to swallow the lump that had developed in your throat, you pulled him close, kissing every part of him that you could reach whilst wiping away the cascading tears.

“You don’t have to tell me what was said in the letter, but I just need you to know that they’re not your real family; you know we’re all your family”. Sirius pulls back from the hug, and your bottom lip trembles at seeing how heartbroken he looks. The area around his eyes is swollen and red to match the shade at the tip of his nose as wetness covers the length of his cheeks.

His mouth opens to say something, but he’s interrupted by the door opening and James and Remus stepping into the bedroom. The two men pause, not expecting to find either you or Sirius here, but as they see the sadness and pain on Sirius’s face, they immediately drop their school bags.

“You missed it”, Sirius chuckled, trying to hide his upset behind humour, “She called me an emotional prick, and the waterworks started”. James and Remus gave him sad smiles, but neither fell for the attempt to change the subject as both sat either side of him on the bed. Remus reached for him first, stroking his scarred fingers through the strands of dark hair that had fallen over Sirius’ face, but only so he could kiss the area beneath. Sirius closed his eyes at the touch and leaned into it, releasing a deep sigh through his open mouth.

James grabbed each of his hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss the palms lovingly and rest them on either side of his cheeks, nuzzling into his hands. “Whatever is going on, you know we’re always here for you, Sirius”, James mutters against the palms on his face.

Sirius sighs even heavier as if trying to will the anxiety away through the breaths. “It’s my parents. I mean, should I even call them parents when they’ve already disowned me? But they’ve just sent me more threats today after what happened with Regulus yesterday. They say things like I should have let him win and wish that I had been hurt.”

He takes a moment to compose himself as you grab one of his hands from James, needing to link your fingers together and squeeze to know that it is a safe place for him to continue and talk. Sirius looked into his lap as he spoke, “They’ve burnt my face off the Black family tree. Not that I care; I expected it, but it just all feels so real now, you know? I feel like I shouldn’t even be using the surname Black with how much they detest me. I also kind of expected Regulus to have my back a little bit, but he’s young; I can’t expect that from him, especially as I know what my parents are like, but he doesn’t even say hi to me in the corridors anymore. I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little all over the place, and with the positivity yesterday, just to have my family metaphorically kick me to the curb again, I should have expected the joy wouldn’t last long”.

Sirius sounded empty and emotionless as he expressed how he was genuinely feeling, struggling to come to terms with the repercussions of the events that occurred with his family that continue to affect him.

“Fuck them”, James says with all the venom and confidence that he could muster. Sirius grunts half-heartedly at the declaration, not seemingly convinced, so James turns his face towards him so that he is looking into the stormy hazel eyes. “I’m being serious, fuck them. You’ve been my family for years now; you know my parents consider you their son as much as I am. Nothing has changed. You live with me and my parents because that is your home. Wherever any of us go is your home because we love you. We wouldn’t make you feel half as rotten as those scumbags, do you understand?”

Sirius nods, swallowing thickly, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. Before he can respond, Remus once again holds onto his face, turning him in the other direction to look at the calmest Marauder. “Sirius, next time you receive a letter from them, don’t open it. They are cruel humans who have no love for anyone but themselves and the prejudices that they live by. You had so much joy and love in your heart; don’t let them destroy you and ruin everything you cherish. And that is exactly what James has said. You’re our family. We’re each other's family. You’re ours, just like you’re mine. Get it?”

Sirius’ eyes have dried as he looks up at Remus, and briefly, a genuine smile welcomes across his face as he leans in to kiss him deeply but then pulls back.

Squeezing his hand, you draw his attention towards you. “You deserve the surname Black more than anyone because it’s what makes you, you—breaking the stereotypes of those evil people and making it mean something that doesn't symbolise hatred. However, if you want to have another surname, you can! Sirius, you’re your own person, and your surname doesn’t define you. You could even make up a whole new name! Maybe you could have one of our surnames”, Sirius laughs at the possibility of a name change. “I love you so much. Your family's opinions of you aren’t how anyone else in the castle sees you. You’re perfect the way you are, Mr Black”.

You couldn’t wait any more time to kiss him, needing to feel his lips against yours and reassure him further with these intimate touches. Thankfully, to your pounding heart, he smiles into the kiss.

“Maybe we could put all of our surnames together”, he jokes as you move to kiss each of his cheeks.

“If that’s what you want, I’d do it”, you reassure him with a kiss on his temple.

“Almost sounds like a proposal”, he casually mentions, causing your heartbeat to increase rapidly. Sirius smirks at your face but reassures, “Maybe we’ll sort out surnames once we’ve finished our exams”. You press your lips against his once more for reassurance until he looks between the three of you. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you three. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed before coming to Hogwarts, let alone feel love like this”.

Remus could see the tears pooling along Sirius’ lashline, so he gently cupped the side of his head, wiping away any that fell. “No more tears for them”. The gap between their lips was closed as Remus kissed him passionately, holding the back of his head carefully as they breathed each other in.

Sirius’ head dips slightly, but only to whisper against the man’s lips, “Can you make me forget? Please?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Sirius”. Remus kisses him again but with more urgency, pushing his body back until Sirius is lying in the centre of the bed with the taller Marauder hovering above him. Their mouths moved together as one, tongues twirling together, heads tilting one way and then the other.

As Remus distracts and devours him with his mouth, Sirius’ hands move around the back of his head, holding him close, which gives James the freedom to move his hands to Sirius’ shirt. With a simple flick of his fingers, James could undo the buttons down the centre of his chest, releasing the toned chest and abdomen of the man whose legs you were sitting between.

You watched with the sadness seeping away and becoming replaced with arousal as James leaned over and licked the nipples of the man who moaned into Remus’ mouth. James was calculated with his movements, making sure to leave teasing licks and bites over the areas that Sirius was most sensitive whilst then worshipping the perked nipples on his chest, his hands caressing the areas where fine dark hair was beginning to grow back from being previous shaved, mainly the snail trail leading beneath his trousers.

Smiling whilst watching them all move together, you were gifted the view of watching the tightness forming in his trousers as his cock grew hard and thick. Without any rush and admiring the desperate moans coming from the man on his back, you began to stroke up his thighs, over his crotch and pausing over his zipper.

Undoing it slowly, you waited to see if Sirius was even aware of what you were doing as he was so distracted with James and Remus. However, with the sudden lift of his hips to help you pull the material down his hips, you knew he was very much aware of your intentions.

Freeing his cock from the restraint of his trousers and boxers, you watched as Sirius lowered his hips back onto the bed, and his member now throbbed on his abdomen, thick and hard. A pearly drip of precum had already formed at the tip, and you were quick to hold the base, lifting the cock until your lips were wrapped around him.

Your movements continue to be gentle and soft. Licking and sucking without any rush to build the tension and hopefully show how much you worship the ground he walks on by paying particular attention to him when he needs it most. James continues to tweak his nipples, and Remus devours his mouth, absorbing every little moan until Sirius needs to pull back to suck in air.

“Fuck, you’re all- Fuck!” Remus distracts him with his mouth once more, dominating him entirely and causing more whimpers to burst from his chest. The veiny length that was being leisurely sucked in your mouth began to harden further, throbbing as you knew he was approaching closer to his orgasm as your hands fondled his balls.

“So good for us, aren’t you, Sirius? Say it, tell us you’re ours”, James demands, pulling on the back of Remus’ hair so that Sirius can tell the group how he is feeling.

“Yes! I’m yours, I’m all of yours! I’m cumming, holy shit!” he shouts out desperately, face scrunching up like he is in pain but is actually experiencing the opposite as overwhelming pleasure pooled in his abdomen.

You moan around his cock, causing it to vibrate slightly against your tongue as his hot seed begins to coat your throat. You swallow every salty, thick liquid drop until you’re popping off and looking up at his half-lidded, satisfied grin.

James and Remus give you room to crawl up his body to kiss him sweetly. The three of you watch and admire as he comes down from the high, carefully tucking his half-hard cock back into his trousers and doing up the zipper once more.

“Thank Merlin that we have no classes this afternoon”, Sirius jokes as he rests back on the pillows with his arm behind his head. You laugh and collapse onto his chest, hugging him closely as the four of you sit in comfortable silence. You listened to the thump of his heart beneath your ear, but after a while, it increased in speed as he became restless.

“Can I tell you all a secret? I’ve um… I’ve kept all of the threatening letters they’ve sent to me, " Sirius admits as he carefully pulls out of the hug to climb out of bed and dig his way through the suitcase with his name on the side. From within, he pulls out a large stack of letters that are all opened and in the same shade of emerald as the one earlier this morning.

“You kept them all? Oh, Sirius”, you say in shock, only guessing what horrible, hateful words are written on those pieces of paper.

Sirius awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed, “Yeah. I don’t know why. Some weird part of me thought that if I burned them all, they would know and come to the school or something. But, I want to get rid of them if you’ll all help me?”

Neither of you have to answer as you climb out of the bed. After dressing appropriately, the four of you walked down to the lake, where Remus carved a hole into the soil. Sirius chucks the letters within as you all form a semi-circle.

Holding onto his left hand, Sirius raised his wand to the right, pointing it towards the letters and shouting ‘Incendio’. The four of you stand together as the letters burn. Sirius sighs shakily as he holds back tears. “It’s weird. I know people say it’s like a weight off your shoulders, but it genuinely does feel like that”.

“That’s because you’re free, Padfoot!” James shouts enthusiastically, grabbing the boy around the waist and lifting him into the air, hollering and whooping until Sirius laughs. The two crash to the ground as Remus throws his arm around your shoulders, watching the pair finally have some fun today as the smoke billows into the air surrounding you, the ash from those horrible words written on the paper disappearing across the Scottish mountains.

#poly!marauders #marauders x reader #marauders smut #james potter x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black one shot #remus lupin x reader #hp smut #sirius black fluff #mine*#the marauders

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months

Text

the dead ringer

buttercup, chapter three

a/n: yeah, this did happen to me in real life, although it happened on a bus so i couldn't immediately get away... ANYWAYS! enjoy this hurt/comfort heavy chapter!

summary: “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, crying, panic attacks, matt using his superpowers for the sake of hurt/comfort, boxing

word count: 2057

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Drizzling the flour into the wide bowl, like a dusty snowfall, you watched the number on the scale carefully as you neared the desired number. Though just before you hit it, Walter’s head suddenly poked in through the doorway leading behind the counter and interrupted you and Howard’s all-too-important discussion on what the day’s music choice should be.

“Hey, Y/n? There’s someone here to see you.”

Laying down the scoop still holding a bit of flour, you dragged your palms down the brown apron tied around your frame and exited the kitchen. A bright smile spread across your face and crinkled up your gaze as you spotted who was standing on the other side of the counter.

“Matt, hey–, oh my god,” you then suddenly noticed the bruising that blossomed out from under his tinted glasses and stretched up over the patched-up scrape that split his left brow, “what happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just wasn’t paying attention last night, tripped and fell, that’s all,” he waved a hand, “I just wanted to stop by on my way to work, get a round of coffees to-go for everyone and perhaps some breakfast for myself, just whatever you think I’d like.”

“You’ll let me pick?” your eyebrows rose slightly.

But Matt simply smiled and said, “I trust your judgment,” his grip shifted gently on the cane standing tall before his chest.

As you moved to make the coffees, “alright,” you drew out a pondering breath, “are you in the mood for something sweet or savoury?”

Thinking about it a second, he uttered, “savoury.”

“Do you like sandwiches?” you popped the lids on the to-go cups. When he nodded, you placed the coffees in a little cardboard tray, “okay, I think you’ll like this one,” grabbed a brown paper bag and moved further down the counter, “it’s made with focaccia and has pesto in it as well as some tomatoes and cheese and stuff.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“I also–, you know what? I’ll be right back,” you then abruptly turned and momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a few of the pillowy buns still on the cooling rack into a bag. As you returned, you also snuck a hand into the display case and stuffed a few other goodies into the sack, “just for the others, if they want,” you placed the bundle onto the counter beside the coffees, “I just pulled them out of the oven a bit ago and they’re still warm.”

“What is it?” Matt tilted his chin.

“Uh, some raisin buns, but I also threw two croissants in there in case they didn’t like raisins...”

A soft smile warmed his bruised features as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “what do I owe you?”

“Oh no,” your hands waved lightly before you, “it’s on the house.”

“Y/n, come on,” he cocked his head.

“Fine,” you light-heartedly sighed, “if you really wanna sing for your supper, then I’ll cash it in at a later date. I don’t know, maybe if I get arrested someday or something you could help me out.”

“You don’t have to bribe me with free baked goods for that.”

“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt, does it?” you chuckled.

“No,” he joined in as he reached for the bags, “I guess it doesn’t.”

“You want some help carrying it?” you asked, hope seeping through your tone, “I could take my break and walk with you the rest of the way.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we just got through the morning rush, they’ll be fine without me for–, I don’t know, 15 minutes or however long it’ll take to walk to your office and back.”

“Alright, thanks,” he smiled, one paper bag hooked in the fingers that also clutched the cane.

“I’m just gonna go grab my jacket, one second,” you said before ducking into the back to do so, letting your uncles know as you slipped out of your comfortable work clogs and into your sneakers.

You ended up dividing the load, with you carrying the coffees and the last bag in one arm, though a few protests left you at first, begging him to let you carry all of it, they melted away as his free hand enveloped yours.

When you reached his office, your arms wrapped around his frame as you hugged him long enough for your heartbeats to sync up, and just as you pulled away, his wide palms still warm on your back, you leaned in and planted a brief peck on his scruffy cheek.

One of his hands swept up to meet the side of your face as your lips retracted. You pulled back so slowly that you weren’t sure you were moving at all, being drawn in by his warmth like a moth to a flame.

His nose gently grazed against yours as he let himself linger, but just as your eyes fluttered shut in expectance that he’d kiss you, his warmth withdrew and he slowly breathed, “have a good day.”

In a matter of seconds, you had gone from giggling, glancing down at some silly joke on your phone as you walked home, to panic instantly kicking in as a passerby’s voice pierced your soul and made your blood run cold.

Glancing around, you saw a stranger standing off to the side and yapping into his phone. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Michael, but it sounded exactly like him, so much so that the tone sent your body right back to that very night as if no time had passed at all.

Willing your body to move, forcing it to conquer the short rest of the way home, once your front door shut behind you and your quiet apartment consumed you, painful sobs began to burst out of your trembling frame. Hyperventilating, you crashed into the nearby wall of the entryway directly across from the door, incapable of getting deeper into your home.

Soon, a quiet and surprising knock found your door.

“Y/n?” the worried tone of your neighbour sounded from the other side.

Your shaky voice came out no louder than a whisper, “M-Matt?”

There might not have been any other instances you could recall where accidentally forgetting to lock your door turned out for the better, because when Matt then tried the handle, it gently complied.

Shutting it behind him, he rushed to you, “hey, hey,” he uttered softly, a hand soothingly finding your arm, “what’s going on?”

Attempting an answer, “I–, I–,” only incoherent sobs managed to seep from you.

“Okay, alright,” he sucked in a controlled breath, one of his hands sliding up to the strap of your backpack, “how about we start by getting all the way inside, huh?” gently gliding it off you and resting the bag on the floor.

You let yourself lean into him fully as he supported you on the short journey towards the couch. Wobbly taking a seat, his touch left you as he settled beside you.

Spine curving, you buried your puffy face in your trembling hands, letting the whole world drift away as small lakes were birthed within your palms from your pain.

When the sobs eventually began to subsite, growing further and farther apart, your frame slowly unfurled. Instinctively flicking your hands before your form, you tried to physically shake even a fraction of the excruciating sensation off of you, but without success.

Matt hadn’t moved an inch, simply stayed there right beside you.

When your quiet voice eventually filled space, it came out broken and overflowing with emotion, “I thought it was him… it wasn’t, b-but it sounded exactly like him… I’ve done double takes every time I saw a stranger with the same haircut or felt nauseous every time I encountered the same name, but this really did sound like him. Same voice, same accent, same everything… but it wasn’t him… it wasn’t… it just sent me right back, you know?”

Hesitantly, you grasped his hand in yours, expecting the contact to only make it worse, to somehow taint and ruin his wonderful and soothing touch, but it didn’t, he didn’t. It was Matt.

Trying to regain control of your breathing, you shakily sucked in deep breaths, feeling your gulps of air slowly become calmer and migrate from the very top of your chest, down to expand your sore stomach. Eyes only half open and utterly exhausted, you noticed that your head was now leaning against Matt’s shoulder.

Glancing hazily down at yourself, you muttered, “fuck… I still have my shoes and jacket on…”

Reaching down, he offered, “here,” before sliding your coat off, resting it on the back of the couch, and leaning down to pull your shoes off.

Curling your legs up onto the couch, the shift in your position offered you more relief than you’d expected. As you attempted to get as comfortable as you possibly could in the state you were in, you snatched up Matt’s hand once more.

Offering your palm a soothing squeeze, he asked quietly, “what do you need, huh? What can I do?”

“I–…” you thought, your brain just as drained as your body was, “I don’t know… maybe–… maybe just be here a bit?”

Exhaling lowly, he flashed you a faint smile, “of course.”

Glancing down at his fingers, sweeping across your own, you said, “hey, Matt? Could you maybe–, uh… could you give me a hug?”

Not hesitating, his strong arms engulfed your quivering frame and a fresh wave of sobs swiftly bubbled out of you as he held you tight, though your cries didn’t push him away, he stayed steadfast, embracing you close till the eruption ultimately simmered down, leaving you nearly asleep against his tear-stained shoulder.

As he gently lowered you down to lay on the couch, you tightened your grip on his shirt as he began to pull back, ushering him to sink down as well, allowing you to curl into his safe embrace and let slumber drift you away.

When you finally stirred, the sun was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you blinked up at Matt still in the exact same spot as before.

“Hey,” you replied groggily, “what time is it?” swiftly fishing your phone out of your pant pocket before Matt could conjure an answer, “oh, fuck… it’s nearly midnight… did you sleep as well?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, “maybe for a little bit, but no.”

“Oh…” you breathed, averting your gaze.

“How are you feeling?” his thumb swiped your waist where his broad palm was planted.

“…I don’t know…” you exhaled, “…exhausted… sad… angry… really fucking angry… so angry that it kinda scares me…”

After a beat of silence, with only your woeful breaths filling the space, Matt then uttered, “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

Your gaze drifted from the faded paint on the walls to the worn punching bags as you and Matt sat on the edge of the central ring and his fingers worked at wrapping up your hands.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, your vision gliding back to him.

“From time to time,” he tilted his head slightly, “reminds me of my dad,” tucking the last end of the strip under the weave, securing it into place, he closed your hand into a fist and exhaled, “alright, you’re ready,” he adjusted your grip, briefly offering your wrist a squeeze as he said, “just remember to keep your wrist strong and your thumb right here,” he slid your finger down below your knuckles.

You hadn’t gone into it with much hope, in fact, it was only out of your desperation just feel better that you even humoured the experiment. In the beginning, it did feel as silly as you’d imagined, nearly stopped completely, but at some point in the mess of it all, your punches grew more ferocious, they grew more brutal, and suddenly something inside of you snapped and unravelled. It wasn’t some magic pill, but the physical act did loosen something within you and gave away to a fresh release of sobs, though not the painful and unbearable kind you’d had to endure earlier. It was the kind that felt like relief. Even if it wasn’t permanent, in that very moment, you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore.

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years

Text

up in flames (steddie x fem!reader)

→ summary: when steve and eddie don't pay you enough attention one morning, you decide that today's a good day to be a brat.

→ warnings: strong language, threesome, oral smut (both f! and m! receiving), face fucking, smut (good old fashioned p in v), dom!steve, dom!eddie, breeding kink, unprotected sex, spanking, name calling (brat, slut, etc), mean!steddie, hair-pulling, mentions of spitting, edging, lots and lots of teasing, voyeurism (public teasing), cream pies, use of 'sir', polaroids taken of mentioned cream pies, overuse of nicknames (y'all should know me by now) MINORS DNI. 18+.

→ wc: 9.4k+

→ a/n: oh jesus. okay. so, first of all, shout out to @myosotisa for encouraging this catastrophe. second of all, i am not completely positive that that entire paragraph covers everything so if you find i missed something, please tell me! fair warning that this is the filthiest thing i have ever written, the longest smut i've ever indulged in, and that i've never written threesome. it's also not edited. any mistakes are between y'all, steddie, reader, and god. not me. my apologies if this is bad. this was just... incredibly self indulgent lol.

You’d brought it upon yourself, really.

It started that morning. You’d asked for ten more minutes with them, but they both had work and knew that ‘ten more minutes’ was never just ten minutes. So Steve got up and made breakfast, Eddie went to take a shower. You’d pouted like a child but nonetheless joined them at the table.

And maybe it wasn’t all your fault, because Steve had made pancakes. That was his first mistake, and Eddie is the one who you attempt to make pay for it.

Somewhere between morning softness fading and orange juice kisses, you’d gotten a swipe of syrup on your thumb. You play it up innocently at first, kitten-licking the sticky sweetness on your skin. Both Eddie and Steve had ignored any gentle kicks of your sock clad foot, not a single reaction when you’d press your toes into their calves beneath the table in a silent plea of pay attention to me, please. Neither man pays any mind to you, too engrossed in discussing what movie they might want to watch after work later that night, you take it a step further, letting your lips wrap around your entire thumb. Steve takes another bite of pancake, but he’s none-the-wiser. Fine. It was fine, because Eddie was the one sitting directly across from you, so you focused your efforts on him.

He always broke easier than Steve anyways.

Your toes press into his calf again, more harshly this time.

“I’m not watching fucking Empire Strikes Back again Ste-” he cuts off midsentence at your prodding, fork in the middle of digging into his pancakes. Steve was too busy gathering both yours and his dirty plates to notice.

Once Eddie’s eyes are on your mouth, you up the ante. The pad of your thumb presses down on your tongue as you slip your lips past the knuckle, hollowing your cheeks as you suck hard on your appendix before you slowly drag it out and make a point of tugging down on your bottom lip. You witness his pupil dilating in real time, entranced as your foot begins to trail higher up his leg. His chest heaves, and you know he’s recalling the moment from a few nights before, when you’d given him the same half-lidded eyes as the tip of him had hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him, teary eyed but eager to please him.

The clashing of dishes being set into the sink seems to break whatever spell you nearly had him under, just as your foot reaches his thigh.

He smacks your foot away, blinking quickly before a cruel grin takes over his face, “Cute.”

“What was that?” Steve calls from the kitchen, completely oblivious to the stare down currently occurring in your dining room.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, daring you to say something as you scowl, sitting up straight once more at his rejection.

“Nothin’!” he calls out, deliberately slow as he pushes his chair out and stands from the table, plate in hand. His steps are heavy as he rounds the table to where you sit with your arms crossed, eyes set forward, not bothering to spare him a glance. You were acting like a child, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. You were hot, you were bothered, and you were about to spend the day doomed to being riled up without reprieve.

As he passes you on his way to Steve and the kitchen, he leans down, voice low as he whispers into your ear, “Behave, sweetheart.”

You nearly scoff, but won’t give him the satisfaction.

Behave. As if you would do anything along those lines today.

—

The next mistake is made when Steve accepts your offer to bring him lunch to Family Video during his shift.

It was actually fairly empty for a Wednesday. When you enter the video store, there’s only one other customer perusing the aisles, Steve nowhere to be found as Robin greets you from the front counter. You send a small wave in her direction, lifting the bag you’d packed Steve’s lunch away into up as you passed her on your way to the backroom.

You were still frustrated. Terribly so. The few hours the boys had been out of the apartment, you’d tried to soothe the ache. You even went as far as to bring out one of your neglected vibrators. But the batteries were worn and nearing their end, and you couldn’t find where the boys had stashed away the new ones, so you’d ended up a petulant mess in the center of the king bed. You’d all but kicked out your legs and thrown fists into the down comforter you’d settled into the center of when the toy’s buzzing finally faded to near-nothing just as you’d felt yourself teeter on the edge of release.

It was at that moment you decided you would not be the only one suffering today.

Steve isn’t in the backroom, or the bathroom you check. You give up calling out his name after the third time before finally setting the bag onto the employee’s table and venturing back out into the front of the store. Robin was no longer at the counter, at one of the endcaps helping the only other customer, completely occupied.

That’s when you hear him, a muffled curse and sound of a few movies dropping in one of the back aisles. Your feet carry you towards the sound quickly, light on your feet as you sneak around a corner to find Steve glaring down at a stack of movies that had fallen off the shelves.

“I don’t think your Jedi mind trick is working,” you quip to make your presence known to him, taking slow and calculated steps towards him, “‘Fraid those wrinkles make become permanent if you keep staring at them like that, my love.”

Brown eyes flicker up to you, framed by dark lashes as the frown lines smooth out.

“Haha,” Steve deadpans as you stand in front of him, “Very funny.”

You keep up a demure act by pecking him on his lips in greeting, feeling the corners of his lips pull upwards.

“Oh, c’mon, you call that a hello kiss?” he whispers before he reaches out and settles an insistent hand on your waist, tugging you back in as he chases your lips with his own. His kiss is deeper, leaving more to be desired as it still remains fairly chaste.

Just the simple capture of your bottom lip between his has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh escaping you.

You still make sure to pull away first, remembering the burn in your abdomen that had begun burning this morning, that had yet to be satiated, “Better?”

“Much,” he grins, eyes glancing down at your outfit, his hand traveling from your waist to the hem of the short sundress, “This is cute.”

Cute. The same demeaning word that Eddie had used on you that morning, the same dismissive tone as Steve rubs the thin fabric between his fingertips.

You had deliberately worn one of Steve’s favorite dresses on you. You had deliberately forgotten a bra.

You had deliberately gone without underwear.

“Cute?” you hum, scrunching your eyebrows, “Last time I wore this dress, if I recall correctly, you called me downright sinful-”

You cut off when you see that flash in his eyes, the same dilation of pupils, the same sudden heavy breathing you had witnessed in Eddie that morning. He was clearly recalling the last time you’d worn the dress – the way he’d bent you over the bed before ripping off your lace number underneath that night, coming in you until you were leaking him across the mattress, the way he’d taken polaroids of your abused pussy to share with Eddie when he had returned from his weekend trip.

Maybe Steve was just as easy to break as Eddie.

“Don’t,” he softly warns, voice husk and low. The fingers playing with the hem of the dress let go of it immediately, knuckles brushing your bare thigh.

“What?” you play it off nonchalantly, “I was just reminding you of-”

“Baby,” he’s practically begging you now. Big, brown eyes pleading before he glances over your shoulder, trying to gauge how far away Robin and the customer were currently from the two of you.

You bring your hand up to his chest, stepping forward and letting his hand now curl around the back of your thigh. You fiddle with the name tag on his work vest, “D’you think Eddie still has those photos? Maybe I should go home and take some new ones.”

It’s the final straw. You’ve pushed him farther than you did Eddie this morning, and the hand once delicately gripping your thigh is now on your neck, gripping your jaw firmly as he leans down to breathe into your ear.

“No, you shouldn’t,” his lips brush over the shell of your ear as your head begins to lull back, only making him tighten his grip as he keeps you pressed closely to him, “What you should do is go home and behave yourself.”

There it is again. That word, behave. A command, an order, a spillage of gasoline across your fire.

You light up at his words.

“Who’s going to stop me? Certainly not you. And certainly not Eddie.”

He lets go immediately, and takes several steps back. All contact between the two of you is lost. If you weren’t so irritated, so consumed by pent up desire, you might have whined. You might have reached back out or followed his steps back. With the distance, he looks down and can see your nipples straining against the chest of the dress.

His jaw locks, “I’ll call him.”

You wield the hammer proudly as you pound the final nail into your coffin, “Do it.”

You spin on your heel, leaving Family Video, with absolutely no intention of behaving.

—

You stop at the store on your way home. Which, to be fair, is your first mistake.

It doesn’t truly take that long to find the package of double A batteries, but even once they’re in your cart, you find yourself walking a few laps around the store to attempt to settle your racing heart and increasing ache. But even by the third lap, even as you get several curious glances from store employees and your thighs begin to ache from how quickly you’ve been walking circles, the pent-up energy persists.

You don’t care. You’re now better equipped, and you know where Steve keeps the polaroid camera and film at home.

But when you arrive at the apartment, plastic bag dangling loosely from your wrist, you completely miss the fact that Eddie’s van and Steve’s BMW are back in their respective parking spots. It doesn’t cross your mind that your boys might be home as you climb the stairs, as you fumble with your keys, as you shut the front door behind you with your hip.

They were smart about it. They left all the lights out except one.

You blindly fumble through the dark apartment, path set on the bedroom above all else. In your mind, you only had a few hours before they’d get home. The pressure of the time constraint was nearly anxiety-inducing until you stopped in the middle of the hallway, and immediately noticed the bedroom light is on. You rack your brain to try and remember if you’d left that light on, or if your hand had simply missed when you’d shot it out to flick the switch off your way out earlier.

Neither. It was neither scenario, and you realize it as you stand in the doorway and are met with an unexpected sight.

Steve is standing by the edge of the bed, arms crossed and face flat as he stares at you. He had been clearly awaiting your entrance. And his presence isn’t the one that strikes any regret or fear in your gut – that anticipation, the oh I fucked up moment, only arrives when you look to the bed and find Eddie sitting on the edge. He’s cleaned up already from the auto shop, arms and hands scrubbed of any grease. His work boots are still laced on his feet, coveralls have discarded to his waist and sleeves tied in a knot.

It’s not just his presence that startles you. It’s your second mistake that stares you straight in the face; Eddie is casually holding your vibrator, turning it over between his palms, not even glancing up at your entrance.

“You two are home early,” you squeak, and internally scorn yourself for the breaking in your tone.

Steve’s still upset about your visit to him at work. Plainly written across his face, he doesn’t even try to hide his displeasure that shines through as he glares at you.

“We are,” Eddie agrees, and a chill runs up your spine – his tone is airy, casual, light. And he looks anything but. “Wanted to surprise you, sweetheart. So you can imagine our disappointment when we came home to this-” he pauses and finally looks up at you, holding up the vibrator in a grandiose gesture, “-left out on the bed. Care to explain?”

He phrases it like a question. It’s not a question – it’s an opportunity to convince them to go easy on you.

A mutual mistake is made at that moment, on Eddie’s part and yours. He assumes you want a gentle night of affection and undivided attention – the fire in you wants anything but those things. The fire in you is seeking out bruises, marks that litter you for days, for the two men to reduce you to nothing more than a goddamn toy, just like the one that Eddie held in his hands.

“I had an issue,” you reply snarkily, sitting the bag down onto the ground now, “I took care of it. Any questions?”

Eddie’s fiddling with the toy immediately stops. You watch the way his palm cradles the sky blue silicone. You hadn’t even cleaned it after the failed usage; you’d assumed you’d be home before them, get right back into it and not be risking them finding it first.

“Oh,” Eddie’s lips split into a daunting grin, “I think I have a few, sweetheart.”

Steve hasn’t moved an inch, and continues to resemble a statue as Eddie stands up. He tosses the vibrator back to the center of the bed before he leans down and unlaces his boots. The seconds drag on as he takes his sweet time.

“What’s in the bag?” Steve breaks his silence in an even tone, each syllable impossibly stern.

You look down at the discarded plastic, the edge of the battery packaging peaking out. You shrug, “Batteries.”

“For what?”

“For my rocketship to Mars,” you snap sarcastically. His eyes darken and the downturn of his lips deepen. Eddie finishes unlacing his boots and slips them off, “The vibrator, of course. What else would I need them for?”

“Did you use it on yourself? The vibrator?” Eddie is maintaining a faux relaxed cadence. If you weren’t paying close attention to his words, or his actions, you’d assume he was simply asking you about your day.

You swallow hard. The first crack in your facade, “I sure as Hell tried.”

Eddie stands back up to his full height, kicking his boots out of the way. He doesn’t look at you this time – he looks at Steve, “You hear that, Stevie? She tried.”

You meet Steve’s gaze with your chin held high. Resilience, defiance, contumacy. It all seeps from you in waves. Your way of saying that the teasing wasn’t going to be enough, not this time.

Steve’s arms drop from his chest, “Tried,” he echoes Eddie, taking a step forward, making the flames lick up to your sternum, “Pathetic. Can’t even break the rules properly.”

He’s as stubborn as you are in the eye contact. Prideful, commanding, authoritative. His waves meet yours with ease, nearly enough to reach your fire, nearly enough to attempt to put out the flames.

But he doesn’t. As he and Eddie stand side by side, glowering at you with matching expressions, it only fans the flames. Only makes you burn brighter, ache worsening with each passing second.

“It’s a shame,” Eddie taunts, “All that trouble you went through, and you won’t even be cumming tonight.”

You smirk as you reach down and finally grab the batteries from the bedroom floor, “Oh? I won’t? That’s odd, because I actually had some pretty big plans with me, that toy, and these batter-”

You don’t have time to react before Eddie has crossed the room and snatched the package from your hands effortlessly.

“I’ll take those. Thank you, doll.”

He turns his back on you and Steve continues to watch you, watching your facade crumbling right before his eyes. Eddie wastes no time in tearing open the batteries before he grabs the vibrator, working open the compartment and shaking out the old ones only to be replaced with new ones.

“Strip,” Eddie commands with his back still turned to you. The smirk on your face has long since fallen, completely fading as your eyes widen. When he hears no movement from you, he tsked, “Do you need to be told twice, sweetheart?”

Steve’s anger, his indifference, has vanished along with your smirk. He raises one eyebrow in a challenge, a silent question of if you were willing to disobey them now that they were both here.

“No, sir,” you secede through gritted teeth. They’re not stupid – they can still feel the heat from your blaze, even as you follow instructions. Even as you behave.

Eddie doesn’t watch you, but Steve does. His eyes never leave you, following your hands as you reach down to the hem of your dress. It’s at this moment that you remember your choices from earlier – no bra, no underwear. You don’t have to catch Steve’s expression once you lift the dress off your body to know he’s swirling with disbelief and frustration immediately.

“Where the fuck is your underwear?” he demands, breaking completely. Eddie has placed the backing on the compartment, and hardly has time to turn and face the two of you before Steve is in front of you, toe-to-toe with you as you bite back a smile.

“I forgot,” you lie entirely too smugly.

“Forgot?” Steve scoffs, jaw flexing as his eyes trail down your neck, your collarbones, your peaked nipples. They glide a path all the way down your torso until they land on your exposed heat and the way you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together. “Bed, now.”

“I don’t recall Eddie telling me to-”

“Listen to him, sweetheart,” Eddie chides, effectively interrupting you, “I think you’ll find Stevie isn’t in a very giving mood tonight. Best to not press your luck.”

To both men’s astonishment, you listen. A flip switches at the mention of giving, at the promise of satiation to come. Within seconds, you’re laying on the bed as Eddie sidesteps, still clutching your blue vibrator.

“Flip over,” Steve demands, hand fiddling with his belt buckle as he approaches you.

You do as he asks of you, rolling onto your stomach, turning your cheek to continue to watch him fully remove his belt now. Your thighs press together harder now, watching a moment of pensive thought cross his face as he looks down at the belt in his grasp.

When he tosses it to the side, letting it hit the bedroom floor with a harsh thud, you count your lucky stars.

“Since you seemed so fond of remembering them earlier today,” Steve muses, his bare hand tracing over the exposed skin of your back, down your spine until his fingertips dance over the swell of your nude ass, “How many polaroids did we take for Eddie that weekend?”

He doesn’t need to elaborate what he’s referring to. You can’t see Eddie, but you hear him choke on a breath.

“Five,” you respond as your hands fist the comforter beneath you, heart beginning to pound from anticipation.

“Hm,” Steve fakes thoughtfulness, and you can see him turn his head in Eddie’s direction, “Five? Does that sound about right to you, Eds?”

Eddie must have been nodding, not verbally responding until he caught on that Steve wanted him to answer him out loud, “Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, “Y-Yeah. Fuck, yeah, it was five polaroids. Still got ‘em in my bedside drawer.”

Steve’s attention is back on yours in an instinct, hand retracting, “Here’s what’s going to happen, doll. Five polaroids, five hits. You’re going to count out loud. Do you understand?”

You’re as speechless as Eddie had been; you’ve never managed to get Steve this riled up. The roles were usually reversed – usually, it was Eddie being domineering, Eddie being cruel and reveling in your squirming.

“Answer me.”

You remember his hesitation with the belt – this time, you don’t hold back in blurting out, “I understand.”

“Good,” his warm touch returns to you, this time on the bend of your knee, trailing its way up to the back of your thigh, “Color?”

An ache pangs through your core, ringing out through the hollow of every bone in your body, “Green.”

There’s no more pause or teasing. Once the word is spoken, Steve’s hand is pulled back before coming down on your ass, the smack riveting off the walls of the bedroom. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, feeling the hit straight in your center. For a moment, you can’t think straight, thoughts blurring together and disappearing into thin air.

“That’s odd,” you barely register the lifting of the pressure of Steve’s hand, “I could have swore I told her to count. Did I not tell her to count?”

“You did,” Eddie is no longer stuttering as he walks around Steve, entering your field of vision as he crouches beside the bed, leveling his head with yours, “She must not want to cum badly enough.”

There’s a spark in Eddie’s eyes you recognize, that you’re familiar with. This is how it normally is – Eddie, belittling you before completely wrecking you, all while wearing a boyish and an air of casualty.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for Stevie?” Eddie taunts you with a whisper, as if Steve couldn’t clearly overhear his words.

“I do,” you sigh out, eyes glossy, “I do.”

“Then count,” he instructs while keeping his voice hushed. His grin falls ever so slightly, gaze hardening before he looks up to Steve and says in a normal voice, “Start over. She’ll count this time.”

Steve’s hand pulls back before landing another hard smack to you, this one stinging even more than the first time.

This time, as you gasp, you manage to let out a strangled, “One.”

He alternates sides. After each slap, you continue to count, voice growing higher in pitch each time, whines slipping out as you feel yourself grow wetter.

You don’t notice the stray tears leaking out of your eyes, falling to the comforter and forming a dark spot, until Eddie reaches out his thumb to swipe them away before the final spank.

“Look at you,” Eddie coos, “You’re a fucking mess, sweetheart, and we’re just getting started.”

Steve doesn’t land the final smack yet, instead choosing to smooth his palms over your reddening skin, massaging gently. Eddie’s freehand disappears from the edge of the bed, and even in your mind’s haze, you immediately know he’s palming himself for brief relief by the way he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Color?” Steve calls out once more, leaning down over you, letting his lips brush at the small of your back. An uneven line of kisses are placed all the way down to your sore ass. Your breathing stutters at the softness, a startling contrast to his palm.

“Still green,” you croak, making Eddie fight back a wide grin as his eyes flutter shut.

You go to shift your hips, seeking out your own relief, but Steve is quick to press his palm over your lower back, pinning you down to the mattress with minimal pressure, “Nuh uh, doll. I’m not done with you yet. One more.”

“Think you can do one more?” Eddie murmurs, the taunting edge still in his cadence.

You only nod. In any other scenario, the two boys would demand you use your words, but the movement appeases them tonight.

The final blow is no less searing than the first, Steve using just as much force against the cheek he’d originally begun with. You almost forget to whimper out the count of ‘five’ until Eddie’s tapping your cheek gently.

“Five,” you say as loudly as you can muster, opening your eyes that you hadn’t realized had closed.

Eddie is staring intently at you, all teasing demeanor having temporarily lifted, “And you’re sure your color is green?”

You can’t help but laugh at his genuine concern, the way his eyes manage to go soft even with his pupils so blown out. Steve is back to pressing kisses up your spine, carefully avoiding your backend now.

“‘M sure,” you promise him, words slightly muffled by the way your mouth is partially pressed into the mattress, “Look at you two. Going all soft on me.”

Eddie’s mouth quirks up immediately, reassured you’re fine.

“It’s just been a while,” Steve offers as his lips reach the nape of your neck, hands spreading over the back of your shoulders, “Munson’s gone too easy on you lately, hasn’t he?”

Eddie throws his head back in laughter at that, “Oh, yeah. I have, haven’t I?” that mocking tone twists your gut, a reminder that they’ve yet to extinguish the fire you’ve been burning with the entire day, “Got so soft on you that Harrington had to get mean.”

“You’ve both been mean,” you argue back, becoming restless once more. You hardly pay any mind to the throbbing of where Steve had just punished you, “All I wanted this morning was ten more minutes, and you both ignored me.”

Steve’s off of you fairly quickly as Eddie’s expression slowly morphs into something more carnal.

“All this attitude… because you didn’t get your way?” he slowly enunciates each word, rising slowly from his crouch as his eyes never leave you. He lets out a soft tut, “Flip her over for me, Stevie. I think I need to remind her of just how mean we can actually be.”

Before Eddie fully steps away from the bed, he grabs a pillow to pass to Steve. No words are exchanged between them as Steve manages to rearrange you onto your back, the soft pillow serving to protect your reddened backend while simultaneously lifting your hips.

You aren’t watching Steve, though. You’re captivated by Eddie as he smoothly removes his shirt, lean torso bared to you with a smattering of ink and taut muscles. Eddie isn’t quite the same lanky boy he once was – he’s grown into himself, into his body, and he’s far stronger than he looks.

“Enjoying the show, brat?” he hums in question as his hand drops to the handcuff buckle of his belt, fiddling without so much as looking down at it, training his darkened irises on the rapid rise and fall of your chest. “You know, I should put this belt to use on you for the way you’ve treated us today. I should tie your hands above your head, turn that vibrators of yours onto its highest setting, leave you writhing as it abuses that pretty little cunt while me and Steve go get some dinner. If I were really being mean, I would do those things, sweetheart. But I’m not feeling mean,” with each word, he steps closer to the bed, discarding his work overalls and socks along the way, before he’s crawling up the edge of the bed and slotting himself between your thighs. His touch is colder than Steve as he wraps a palm around one of your calves, sliding up and down as his rings press into your skin, “I’m actually feeling quite generous tonight, baby.”

“Please,” you beg, knees falling apart, trying to make more room to accommodate him. You nearly reach down, nearly grab him by his shoulders and pull him into where you want him most – where you need him most. “I’ll be good, I swear. I can be good, sir-”

“My, my,” he cuts you off, leaning his mouth against the soft side of your knee, lips parting as he knicks your skin between his teeth and makes you jump, excitement and thrill pumping through your veins with intense longing, “You’re being so polite, I knew you had it in you. Where exactly were these manners earlier, though, with Stevie… in public?”

At the mention of Steve, your head rolls to the side, finding him standing to the sidelines already completely undressed. His cock stands proudly against his lower abdomen, the tip an angry shade of pink, shining with precum as he slowly reaches down to grip himself around his base.

You let out a whine as his grip on himself remains still, him only saying, “You better answer him. Before his generosity runs out.”

Eddie bites your inner knee again before letting his lips drag up your inner thigh, breath hot on your skin, “Don’t be shy on us now. You certainly weren’t shy when you were talking such a big game in the middle of Family Video, of all places. What did you expect to happen, hm? Did you expect Steve to just take you to the backroom, to give you all you demanded without being deserving of it?”

“No, sir,” you breathe out. He hooks both of your legs over his shoulders, looking up with a devilish grin, eyes locked on target of your cunt.

“Tell Steve you’re sorry, sweetheart,” he insists, mouth growing closer to your center at an antagonizing pace.

Steve’s fist is now pumping his length, and you purse your lips into a pout as you make eye contact with him, “I’m sorry, Stevie.”

You receive a smack onto your exposed pussy from Eddie, his ring catching on your clit and causing you to let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you correct yourself, devolving into a moan when Eddie finally puts his mouth on you. It’s momentary, but enough to have your hands shooting down to grip the comforter at your side, balling it up tightly as your knuckles pale.

“Say,” Eddie pulls back, shimmering eyes meeting yours, “Be a doll and hold my hair back for me, yeah? I usually prefer to keep my hair out of my meals.”

You do as he asks, hands letting go of soft down material and tangling into messy curls, one hand digging into his roots while the other gathers the rest of his mane into a makeshift ponytail in your fist. His fingertips dig into your thighs greedily as he begins to devour, tongue working in quick swipes from your entrance to clit. You throw your head back, skull crushing into the mattress as your lips immediately begin to buck up into him. Your flames grow the highest yet, curling around your neck and up the back of your throat, releasing like smoke signals in gasps and sighs, heavy pants of Eddie’s name that only fuels him to grow more eager against you. You can feel the mattress shake from him rutting his hips in chase of his own release.

“Fuck,” you cry out over the sound of Eddie lapping and the quickening pace of Steve touching himself, “Jesus Christ. God, fuck, I-”

“Not God, not Jesus,” his voice rasps against your clit, pausing to purse his lips and suck sharply, “Just Eddie or sir will do just fine, baby.”

Steve sees the first sign of your orgasm creeping up on you – Eddie is lost in you, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue dives into your entrance, taking all you can give him.

“Don’t let her cum.”

Another curse falls from your lips, and your back arches further off the mattress, igniting pain on your backside from the burn left by Steve’s hand.

Eddie’s mouth stays pressed against you as his words send shockwaves up your spine, feeling his own pants as he replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You tug sharply with the hand tangled in his roots, Eddie groaning into you as Steve says, “She’s about to cum. Get your mouth off her, Munson.”

His words only spur you to clamp your thighs tightly against Eddie’s ears, as if you could block out the command. You were close. The closest you’d been all day, wound tightly and desperately for a release you’d been seeking since this morning.

Eddie was easy to break. You’d been right. For all the mean he was capable of, once he got his mouth on you, you were always sure to finish. He was a starving man, as needy as you as he would beckon you closer and closer to your edge. He got off just as clearly by your pleasure as you did.

He doesn’t listen to Steve. His tongue only plunges into you once more, and the coil in the center of your burning abdomen nearly snaps before Steve’s hand replaces the one that had been holding Eddie’s hair back. He tugs harshly, pulling the other boy’s mouth off of you in an instant.

The coil doesn’t snap. You nearly scream, your entire body aching fervently.

Eddie’s neck is bared to you as you glance down, hair still pulled taut by Steve’s grip as he licks his slick lips with a teasing grin. He catches your look of desperation and frustration, and one corner of his mouth turns the grin lopsided, “Told you, sweetheart. He’s feeling mean today, not me.”

“She’s been a brat. Brats don’t fucking cum,” Steve glares down at you, making you squirm, legs still hooked over Eddie’s shoulders.

You're dizzy from nearly coming to the fruition of your release, but still find a spark of snark somewhere deep in your chest as you lazily roll your eyes at Steve.

“Bite me, Steve.”

Eddie gives your thighs one last tight squeeze before your legs drop off of him as he moves to stand up beside Steve. He crawls backwards slowly, deliberately wiggling his brows on his flush face, “Mouthy, are we?”

“Far too mouthy,” Steve quips, letting go of Eddie’s hair finally. The curls brush his collarbones, falling in dark waves over his bare shoulders.

“Maybe you should put her mouth to better use, Stevie.”

They watch the breath get caught in your throat, the clench of your thighs as your eyes widen. Chest heaving. Pupils blown. You’re an image to be held right now by them, but they’re not going to tell you that – not yet.

“You’re right,” Steve muses. He’s hard, painfully so, as he moves to cup his balls, rolling the tension out of his shoulders, “Get her on her knees for me.”

Eddie helps you stand, taking the pillow that had been wedged beneath your hips and dropping it to the ground at Steve’s feet. Your knees still shake from your flames. You’re convinced they’ll burn you alive before the night is over, before your boys are done with you.

Your hands grasp onto Eddie’s forearms for a moment, steadying yourself.

“Hey,” he murmurs, a private moment between the two of you as he brings a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him with devastating gentleness compared to the roughness they’ve shown you thus far. He’s smiling softly, no sign of cynical or cruelty as he tilts his head, “How you doin’? What’s your color?”

“Still green, Eds,” you insist, leaning into his touch.

“And what do you say if it starts to get to be too much?”

“Yellow.”

“And if you need to full stop, no questions asked?”

“Red.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, dimples protruding before he leans down to kiss you. He tastes of nicotine, of mint, of you. Your tongue chases after his own into his mouth, losing yourself momentarily in the way his fingers continue to cradle your chin as he movements remain patient, giving. A stark contrast to what you’re used to in the bedroom, but exactly what you expect from the boy outside of the bedroom.

“Any day now,” Steve sighs, reminding you two of his presence. You both pull back and Eddie drags his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging and mimicking the show you’d made with the syrup for him that morning.

“Sorry,” Eddie rasps out, eyes still on you, “Just couldn’t resist. You know me, always the giver.”

“Right,” Steve snorts, the tenseness of the moment momentarily lifted as Eddie moves you to your knees in front of Steve. “Because you were so giving to her last week when you spit in her mouth after she begged for a kiss.”

Eddie shrugs, fingers carding through your hair and pulling it back over your shoulders, “I have my days. Just like you, clearly.”

His touch leaves you as you come face to face with Steve’s dick now, lashes fluttering as you look up at the two men. Eddie is quick to remove his boxers, a wet patch having formed on the crotch of them.

It’s embarrassing, the way your mouth waters at the mere sight of the two of them. Steve is big – in girth, in length – and you know him to be a challenge, always leaving your jaw aching. But Eddie is smaller – still girthy, still perfectly fitted to hit the perfect angles inside of you when he drills you into the mattress – but simply less intimidating. Steve stands tall and proud, but Eddie’s dick curves ever so slightly to the right, a darker shade of pink on his tip that nearly perfectly matches his lips and your own blushing cheeks.

“Look at her,” Eddie coos, stepping out of the discarded boxers and coming around behind Steve, having to lean down to place his chin on Steve’s shoulder as his arms wrap around the boy’s waist loosely, “Already cock drunk, and all we’ve done is take off our clothes.”

Steve is the one smirking now as Eddie places a succession of kisses over his shoulder, up his neck, both men look at you intently. “She is, isn’t she?”

“Just pathetic,” Eddie goads. Steve nods in agreement immediately.

You don’t say a word as Steve grips himself again and Eddie lets go of him, side-stepping to become a spectator once more before Steve guides his tip to your lips, tapping expectantly.

“Not so mouthy anymore, are you, baby?” Steve teases you. You shake your head before you let your lips part, jaw slack as you open your mouth for Steve.

The weight of him on your tongue is heavy, and you give yourselves a moment to just savor it. This is what you had been wanting since this morning, what you’d been begging for the entire day.

By the way Steve’s head falls back with a moan, he’d spent the entire day longing for this just as much as you.

“Just like that,” he whines, hard exterior cracking as you begin to bob your head against him, taking your time as your tongue swirls around his tip. You breathe deeply through your nose, slow as you begin to swallow him down, taking him further and further down your throat until he hits the back of it and gags you. The restriction of your throat has him releasing a deep groan, pulling from his chest as his hand reaches down to find purchase in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth is so good for me, baby. So good.”

“So much better when she’s putting it to good use, right?” Eddie comments, and you can hear the schlick of his fist pumping himself, fluid movements with the flick of his wrist.

Steve hums in agreement, fingers tightening against your scalp as you take him further down, choking once more. Tears have sprung to your eyes as you finally pull back, gasping for breath as you pepper kisses across his tip and down the length, reaching his balls before you mouth at them. His hips buck without constraint.

You’ve caught you breath by the time you’re kissing up the opposite side, sucking his tip as harshly as Eddie had treated your clit, a throb ricocheting through you as his fans with your flames with every pant of your name. A chant, a prayer, an answer of forgiveness – your stunt at Family Video is long forgotten as you sit back on your heels and open your mouth wide, making it clear you want him to fuck your face.

His eyes shoot open and catches sight of you waiting patiently. When he doesn’t make the first move, you reach up and tug on him, one hand stroking him and the other placed against his thigh.

“Fuck my mouth, sir,” you beg of him, some of the lingering tears in your eyes still wetting your lashes, “Please.”

The please is all it takes. The way your voice cracks, the way your thighs clench as you whine. Steve wastes no time in placing both his hands on the back of your head, watching you intently.

Your hand starts to drop from his thigh, and he’s quick to grab it and place it back in its original position firmly.

“Two taps to slow down, three taps to stop. Understood?” You nod dumbly, and he pulls on a strand of hair, making you gasp.“Say it. Say you understand.”

“I understand. Two taps to slow down, three to stop.”

Once the words leave your mouth, your hand still on his thigh, he thrusts into your waiting mouth. There’s no mercy as his hips jerk towards you, immediately pressing down your throat and leaving you a drooling mess. Each thrust brings on a fresh wave of tears, leaving your cheeks wet as you let him use you for his own pleasure. Each time his tip taps the back of your throat, you feel your core begin to ache worse, shuffling your thighs to keep your balance as well as seek out friction. You let your eyes divert from watching the way Steve’s chest frantically heaves to Eddie, who’s eyes are half-shut, wrist still flicking lazily, moving to a slower pace than the force that Steve fucks your mouth with. You try to communicate with your eyes for him to come closer, but to no avail.

Finally, you tap Steve’s thigh twice, and his movements slow to nearly a stop, letting his dick drop from your tongue as you puff to catch your breath.

“Everything okay?” Steve immediately checks in on you, and you nod, focusing your attention.

“C’mere,” you plead with Eddie, holding out a hand. He’s quick to come to you, and in an instant, you replace his fist with your own after spitting into your palm.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie hisses, hips stuttering as you pick up his pace where he left off.

The boys share a look before you glance up to Steve.

“Sorry,” you smirk softly, “Eddie just looked a little lonely. Continue as you were.”

Steve’s thrusts are even more frantic now as his eyes dart between your eyes and your hand, tugging on Eddie’s dick to match the pace set by him. He tests it out, slowing his movements and immediately widening his eyes at the way your hand follows his guidance.

Eddie seems to realize this at the exact time, as they both moan out in sync.

Just as you realize how sore your throat is sure to be come tomorrow, the possibility of bruising on your mind, Steve’s breathing becomes more ragged, thrusts faltering while Eddie begins to whine incessantly.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps out, finally thrusting to meet your fist, “Fucking- Holy shit, my God.”

“I’m going to cum,” Steve grunts out, abdomen contracting, “I- Fuck, baby. Fuck, take it. Just like that.”

His praises become incoherent as Eddie smacks your hand away from him, quickly guiding your now free-hand to play with Steve’s balls. That’s all it takes for Steve, a few ginger rolls and pinches against his heavy sack, before he’s cumming in rapid spurts down your throat. He presses you up against his pelvis, your nose buried in his pubic hair, as he groans and curses through his high. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as you take it in stride, swallowing every drop that Steve offers to you.

“Well, shit,” he breathes out through his nose as you pull back from Steve, letting a string of spit trail from your chin to his softening dick, “That never gets fucking old.”

You laugh hoarsely, “Neat trick, huh?”

Steve helps you off of your knees gently before he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, Eddie still standing with his dick against his abs, pink tip more swollen than before.

You stand between Steve’s knees and lean down, letting one of your knuckles brush over his check before you push some of his stray hairs off of his forehead with care, “Have I proven I’m sorry yet, sir?”

He breathlessly chuckles, eyes shut in residual bliss, “Fuck you.”

You’re shocked when Eddie comes up behind you as you’re still bent over, and suddenly running his tip through your soaking folds. Steve leans forward to kiss you hard, catching the whine that spills out from your throat.

“I think we owe her an orgasm still, Stevie,” Eddie comments, hand wrapping around the front of you as he pulls you back from Steve, fingers flicking your nipples before his hand comes to rest around your throat. Your back is flush with his chest, he’s tucked between your thighs as your core flutters around nothing. “How’s that sound, sweetheart?”

Your hum is lost in your chest, your flames desperate to lick at Eddie’s wrists as you lean your head back on his shoulder and let his fingers give an experimental squeeze to your throat.

“Still too much of a cock drunk slut to answer me, I see,” Eddie tsks, kissing the back of your shoulder chastely, “That’s alright. I’m still in a giving mood, baby — Let me take care of you.”

Steve watches, silent and entranced, as you become pliable in Eddie’s hands. You put up no fight as presses you to get on your hands and knees on the bed, letting your knees slide further apart until you’ve sunk to the perfect height for Eddie to slip his dick between your slit once more, his tip catching your clit and making you jerk forward. His hands massage your ass, still red from Steve’s spankings, thumbs rubbing gentle circles and the cool and sticky rings managing to soothe the heat that radiates from you.

“Look at that,” Eddie nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance, “You’re already ready for me. She’s practically begging to be filled by me.”

“I am,” you agree, curling your fists into the sheets to prepare yourself, “Please fill me, Eddie. Please.”

He chuckles darkly, leaning forward as some of his weight lays along your back, whispering in your ear, “I wasn’t talking about you, slut. I was talking about that pretty pussy of yours.”

Without warning, Eddie sinks in. He was right — your walls stretch to welcome him, sucking him in tightly until he’s bottomed out, groaning huskily into your ear still.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps with you, “This wet, just for us?”

You hear Steve make a weak noise off to the side of you two, and tilt your head to find him already half hard again, eyes focused on where Eddie fills you.

“Just for you,” you supply through whines that creep up on you, fry tile in your attempt to swallow them down, already clenching down on Eddie as you burn, “Only for my boys.”

Your eyes lock with Steve’s. He’s fully hard at the term of possessiveness.

Eddie finally begins to rock against you, lifting from your back, each snapping of his hips focused on nudging his tip deeper into you, hitting the spot that has your back arching as you cry out. He’s wasting no time, hardly being careful of your sore skin as his thighs meet the back of yours.

“God, you take me so well. Always take us so well, sweetheart,” Eddie rambles, mutterings of curses spilling from his lips as he reaches to hold your hips with a tight grip. Even if your throat wasn’t bruised, your hips surely would be.

Steve has begun to touch himself again, matching Eddie’s strokes to his own.

“So fucking tight,” Eddie groans out, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, mind reeling as the burn that has scorned you all day threatens to spread. Coals in the pit of your stomach, turning your vision right and your body flush pink, “You want my cum sweetheart? Just like in those pretty photos?”

You clench around him, walls beginning to flutter as you chant an alternation of his name and Steve’s.

“You know what, Eddie? I think those photos are a bit dated by now, don’t you think? I think we need to take a new picture of our pretty little pussy,” Steve cuts in, tone uneven as he thrusts into his own fist.

You clench harder.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” Eddie’s hot chest is back against your back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear with each rock of his hips. He’s impossibly deep — you’re sure if you were to press on your lower stomach, you’d feel him there. “Want me to fill you with all my cum like the fucking slut you are? Hm?”

It’s as if he was reading your mind, a hand trailing from your hips over where he is in fact bulging against your lower stomach. He lays his palm flat and applies pressure, and your mouth hangs open, unable to make a sound as your face screws up in pleasure, “Feel that? Feel how fucking deep I am in you right now?” he pauses, and thrusts even harder, knocking you down from your palms to your elbows, “I bet you’d like me to fill you with my cum, I bet you want me to put a fucking baby in you, sweetheart. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? God, I know you love that idea, squeezing me so tight.”

Steve groans out from beside the two of you again, chest red as he chases his second organs of the night. You’re too overwhelmed with your coil once more tightening to take in the sight.

“I bet you’d let us take turns, fucking babies into you, making you nice and round with our fucking kids. I bet your tits would get nice and pretty, big and sensitive, huh?” Eddie edges you on, noticing the way you’ve begun to rock back into him, still fluttering around him wildly with each of his words. His hand travels up to your chest and twists a nipple painfully, “Is that what you want, brat? You want us to breed you?”

“Yes,” you finally find your words, crying out, unable to chase your breath as everything inside you ignites, “Please breed me, p-please,” you stutter as tears begin to flow down your cheeks again, “I- Please let me cum. I’m gonna cum, please-”

The words you’ve been waiting for all day finally fall from Eddie’s lips, “Cum for me, baby.”

Your vision goes white as you burst into flames, face pressing fully into the mattress roughly as Eddie continues to pound into you, taking no time to slow down. Your ears ring, unable to hear a single soothing word either he or Steve coos at you through your release, only focused on how full you are of Eddie, the ache in your jaw from Steve, the burn of your ass from Steve’s palm. You’re sure you’ve screamed through it by the new scratchiness that settles with the residual ache in your throat.

When you finally come back to, the flames finally tamed as the embers and ash settle, Eddie is still rutting relentlessly into you, clearing chasing his own high now.

“Fuck,” he whines out, drawing the word out as his hips stutter, “G-Gonna cum, gonna fill you up so full of my cum, sweetheart, I-”

He cuts off, and you feel his warmth paint your walls as he bites onto your shoulder, hardly muffling the sinful noises coming from his mouth. For a moment, he relaxes his full weight on top of you before lifting at the sound of Steve’s whines.

He doesn’t pull out yet, beckoning to Steve as he sees the boy coming close to release. You’re still coming down, smoke still clearing from your head, hardly registering when Eddie leaves you empty, only for Steve to begin to pump himself over you. His cum mixes with Eddie’s as it leaks out of you, painting your puffy lips in both of them. His moans and groans sound as if they come from underwater.

You stay laying there, entire body trembling from exhaustion, entire upper body collapsed as Steve soothingly holds your hips.

“Stay up for us just one more second baby,” he kisses your temple, sickly sweet before you hear the shutter of a camera.

There’s a whirring of film being produced as your hips finally collapse and your feet brush the carpeted floor, body sagging in relief. You’re fully unaware of Steve and Eddie’s movements, unsure of which one retrieves the wet cloth to clean you off, which one gathers you up before pulling back the comforter and sheets to snuggly fit you into the center of the bed. You think it’s Steve that produces the glass of water, as he whispers ‘drink’ and encourages you to drain half the glass before each boy takes to laying on either side of you. You curl instinctually into Steve’s chest as Eddie presses his body carefully to the back of you, grabbing your hand and intertwining fingers before he begins to place kisses down your arm. Steve traces soothing circles over your thigh.

“You did so good for us, honey,” Steve murmurs as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “So good.”

Eddie leans back to look at your bare ass, catching sight of the handprints left welting, “Sheesh. Stevie really did a number on you, didn’t he, sweetheart?”

You whine pathetically in response, making both men chuckle.

“It isn’t that bad, is it?” Steve finally asks after a beat of silence, attempting to crane his neck to catch sight of the damage done.

“Nothing a little lotion and lovin’ can’t fix,” Eddie smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting go of your hand, “My head, on the other hand, still hurts from you pulling my hair, dickhead.”

“You weren’t listening to me, asshole.”

With the flames dying down, all that’s left now is a warmth of unimaginable lengths, something to have and to hold as the two boys bicker from either side of you.

When silence begins to soothe over you three, when you can feel both Steve’s head beneath your chest and Eddie’s against your shoulders rising and falling evenly, you finally dare to whisper, “I’m sorry for being such a brat today.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby,” Steve mumbles, clearly on the verge of sleep as his fingers have slowed in their gentle dance over your thigh.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie agrees, mouth pressed to the nape of your neck, “You know we don’t mind. We’re always more than happy to put you back in your place.”

“We’re sorry for ignoring you this morning,” Steve continues on drearily, on the cusp of drifting out of consciousness, “You can have ten more minutes of every morning from now on, I swear. I… I can call… I can call out of work tomorrow, or just… go in late,” Steve’s words become increasingly slurred as he clearly starts to fall asleep mid sentence.

You can’t help but giggle into his chest, adoration flooding you for his snores that begin. “He’s definitely not going to call out tomorrow, is he?”

Eddie’s still awake behind you, each puff of his breath on your neck soothing you to follow Steve’s lead into unconsciousness. He brings a hand to your hip and pinches you lovingly, “Don’t worry, babe. I’m actually off work tomorrow. Maybe we can get up to some trouble, return the favor and take some polaroids for Stevie to have of his own.”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x reader smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x steve harrington x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #i have no excuse i'm sorry y'all #i don't remember the color of anything don't ask

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