#i would drive up to get her on friday and then drive her back sunday

[saturnsuv]

hate my friend’s bf more than ever

[keerysfreckles]

good graces — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: how you and lando celebrate after the dutch grand prix.

warnings: not proofread, fluff with a tiny tiny bit of smut!

a/n: WDYM LANDO IS A TWO TIME RACE WINNER IM SO 😭😭😭 also yes this is me coping with all the hate i saw on twt today

masterlist !

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for the past hour you've been sat at the edge of your couch, watching your boyfriend and nineteen others drive around what feels like the longest track in the world.

you sadly couldn't attend the dutch grand prix this weekend, due to being needed at work friday and saturday. after many minutes of begging your boss over the phone, she reluctantly agreed to let you take sunday and monday off. you told her you wanted to be there for lando, which wasn't a total lie. you were rooting for him every single second of this race. even if it's from the couch of your shared apartment in monaco.

it was nearing the end of the race, with less than fifteen laps to go. your nails were extremely worn down from biting them during every pit stop and radio message from either lando or max, hoping the ones from your boyfriend sounded positive.

you continue watching, beginning to pace behind the back of your couch, bcoming more hopeful as the number of laps left decreases. until there's just one lap to go.

you aren't sure if you scream, cry, or jump up and down when lando crosses the finish line first. maybe it was a combination of all three.

you can't help but laugh slightly when small tears run over your cheeks, that were beginning to hurt from smiling so much. you watched in awe as lando took his position on the top step of the podium.

you hummed along with the familiar tune of the british national anthem. (thanks to lando for playing it for four hours straight once). streamers were thrown and champagne was popped as you continued smiling widely at the sight of your boyfriend being showered in the love he deserves.

ten minutes after you turned the tv off, your phone began to rang. you didn't even have to look at the screen to know it was lando calling.

"baby, i won! again!" his bright laugh fills your living room as you put him on speaker phone.

"i'm so so proud of you lan," you smile again as you congratulate him.

"did you watch the whole thing?"

you nod, "of course. what kind of girlfriend would i be if i didn't want my boyfriend's race," you tease. he asks you this everytime you can't attend a race in person.

you and lando continue talking for a few moments before he's being rushed out of his drivers room for his duties in the media pen.

"i'll be home tonight, okay? i love you," lando promises. you believe him, knowing it's only a two hour flight.

"i love you too, and i'll be waiting."

as soon as lando hangs up, you throw your phone onto the couch and run to the kitchen.

you went with lando to miami. you got to see his maiden win. you got to celebrate with him, in his driver room, at the party, and in his hotel. the two of you ordered so much room service you felt like you couldn't move the next day.

yes you still celebrated, but it didn't feel like a traditional celebration to you. so you had a plan. a great plan. you had five solid hours to execute it.

you grabbed a scrap piece of paper from the fridge. (a tic-tac-toe match lando demanded he hang on the fridge since it was the first time he beat you). you started scribbling down your ideas.

in five hours, you planned on getting a plain cake to decorate for lando. you wanted to blow up balloons (papaya color of course) and write cute messages on them. and if you had time you'd hang up matching papaya streamers.

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with thirty minutes to spare, you managed to complete everything on your small list. the vanilla cake with orange decorations was sitting in the fridge, waiting for lando's arrival.

balloons and streamers were littered around the kitchen and living room. a few balloons had doodles of stars and trophies, while others had small phrases. "race winner!!" and "happy second win baby!" were used the most.

you debated on changing your clothes. you didn't know why you even debated it. lando's told you probably a million times that he loves you in anything.

before he arrived you decided changing into one of his shirts, keeping the leggings you had on from the rest of the day.

you hear a set of keys jiggling the door knob open. you can't help but become giddy.

there he was. your boyfriend. your race winner.

"hi baby," he smiles instantly as you run over to him. you mumble some sort of short greeting back before smothering him in kisses. making sure not to miss any spots on his face. you kiss both of his cheeks, his nose, his left temple, his jaw (multiple times), and finally place a long kiss on his lips.

you wrap your arms loosely around his neck so you can look up at him to ask, "so how's my two time race winner feeling?"

his hands roam slowly around your waist, as if he's trying to remember the feeling of you, as if he didn't see you earlier in the week.

"i'm doing amazing," lando smiles, "even more amazing that i'm home with you." he leans forward to kiss your forehead, and once he leans back he finally notices the orange decorations around the room.

"what's all this?" he laughs.

you squirm out of his arms to go towards the fridge. he laughs again but his smile grows. "you got me a cake?"

you nod, "of course. the race winner deserves a cake!"

you set it down and get ready to serve yourself and lando slices, however his hand on your wrists stops you from opening the drawer. it moves slightly to interlock his fingers with yours, sending chills up your arm and down your spine.

"i know how excited you are about this cake, but how about we celebrate differently? then afterwards we can have the cake," his voice dropped to a whisper by the end of his sentence. he's stepped closer to you, making you have to look up at him slightly.

"are you sure that's what you want?" you decide to start teasing him. "i mean you're probably more than tired. wanting to do nothing but sleep all this excitement off."

lando shakes his head as fast as he possibly can, "no, no, i definitely don't want to just sleep it off."

you simply giggle before leaning up to press a passionate kiss to his lips. he reciprocates as his hands move to your jaw. his thumbs press firmly onto your cheeks.

he pulls back first, both of you slightly panting for air.

before you can get another word out, wanting to tease lando just a little further, he easily picks you up to bring you to the bedroom. you can't help but laugh as he begins kissing down your neck. your grip never falters on his shoulders as he closes the door behind him.

he sets you down on the bed, pushing you back until your head hits the pillows.

"shouldn't i be giving you some kind of special treatment? you won the race, not me," you try to negotiate while he seems to be preoccupied by running his hands under his your shirt.

"and waste all this adrenaline?" he removes your shirt, before leaving a trail of kisses up to your jaw. "you and i both know neither of us want that."

you can't possibly say no to him. just the thought of how the night could go makes your insides flutter with excitement and the pool between your legs grow.

his large hands rest on your bare waist and on your jaw. his thumb presses over your bottom lip gently as he waits for an answer.

silently, your hands move from his shoulders to the hair at the back of his neck. you thread your fingers through the small mullet he has started growing, before pulling his lips down to meet yours. you hope this gives him the answer you meant to share. you smile against his lips as you feel his hands roam down to where you need him more than ever.

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you lay on lando's bare chest, tracing over the veins in his hand thats placed over his stomach. his curls are messy and eyes are full of lust and tiredness. yours are as well, and you know you're going to be sore tomorrow morning.

lando kisses the top of your head, "you know, i think we deserve some cake."

you smile up at him and kiss his jaw. your silent way of saying a million things at once, but this one meaning thank you and i love you.

you turn and reach over the edge of the bed to grab your shirt lando threw somewhere in the room. you feel a light grip at your waist, making you smile knowing lando's always finding ways to protect you.

goosebumps rise on your legs as you adjust the shirt over your torso on your way to the kitchen. you move as quick as you can to grah the cake and two forks. you can't be bothered to cut and serve the cake at the moment.

"no plates?" lando chuckles as you hand him the cake while you readjust yourself to sit in front of him.

"i'm proud of you lando," you smile at him after taking a bite.

his dimples show up when he smiles, "thank you baby."

he leans forward to kiss you which makes you smile. he tastes sweet, a combination of the cake and moments you shared only minutes ago. his lips fit comfortably against yours, making you feel at home.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After the perfect weekend, three days without Bradley is harder than you could have ever imagined. It makes you think about what it will be like when you have to go months without each other. When he visits your classroom for the second time, your students make him feel welcome as they come up with an amazing idea.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You were at Bradley's house on Sunday night a lot later than you originally anticipated, but you just couldn't seem to make yourself leave. He kept luring you back to the couch with the promise of one more quick snuggle, and you fell for it every single time.

"I have to get my lesson plans in order for tomorrow," you whispered as you kissed your way along the scars on his cheek from your spot on his lap. 

"Bring them with you next time," he murmured, big hands warm on your lower back.

"You wouldn't mind?" You knew what a turnoff it was for your ex whenever you even mentioned your classroom full of kids, so it would have never occurred to you to bring your work with you down to Coronado for the weekend.

Bradley's fingers stroked your bare skin as he said, "Maybe I could help you? I actually like a lot of the same stuff as your fourth graders. Like airplanes and dogs and their teacher."

You snorted with laughter against his neck, but you said, "Next weekend I'll bring my lesson plans with me."

"Excellent," he murmured. "Then you can stay even later."

You knew without a doubt that in a few more weeks, you'd be sleeping over on Sunday night and driving straight to work on Monday morning if he asked you to. How could you not? The entire weekend had been incredible even with Vanessa crashing in on Friday. Being around Bradley felt like something close to magic with the way he talked to you and touched you. Earlier this morning, you sent him out for a run with Natasha, and he came back to you all sweaty and needy. You even got an adorable photo of him stopping to tie his shoe on a bench which his best friend texted you. And after lunch, you took a spider outside for him when he begged you to get rid of it, and he thanked you with at least a hundred kisses.

But now, when you tried to stand up, Bradley pouted and wrapped his arms around you a little tighter. "I'll see you when you come up to my school on Wednesday," you whispered with a smile.

"That's so far away," he groaned, letting his arms go limp at his sides as you wiggled yourself free. "I don't like that at all."

You pressed your lips together to keep the massive, goofy smile that threatened to take over your entire face at bay while you collected your things. Bradley watched your every movement as you said, "It's not like I won't text you some potentially dirty photos and call you just to tell you I love you."

He was on his feet right then and there with a ridiculous looking grin of his own. "Say it again, Gorgeous."

You looked up at him as he closed the distance with three long strides, and you said, "I love you."

It took you another twenty minutes to finish making out with him, and then he carried everything out to your car where you made out a little bit more. You got home really quite late.

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On Wednesday morning, you made the rookie mistake of telling your kids that a visitor would be spending the afternoon in your classroom, but you were too excited about it to keep quiet.

"Is it Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Violet asked immediately as she bobbed in her seat.

"You'll just have to wait and see," you replied, getting your language arts notes ready to teach.

"Is he bringing his Super Hornet with him?" Harrison practically screamed.

"He can't bring a fighter jet to school," Jayden scoffed. "It would take up too many parking spots."

"I never even said who our special visitor is!" you reminded them as you started writing a few spelling words on the board.

Nia sighed behind you and murmured, "If it's not Lieutenant Bradshaw, then what's the point?"

You had to stifle your laughter, because you didn't disagree. You weren't even sure what he had in store for your kids, but he insisted he was going to need at least two hours with them. When you had questioned him about getting leave from base for the afternoon, he just laughed. "The Navy loves it when we do classroom outreach. I'm sure my commanding officers will all make it a point to thank me for volunteering, so there's no way I'm telling them that I'm visiting my girlfriend's school. But I'm sure they'll catch on by the fourth or fifth time I ask for the afternoon off."

Whenever he used the word girlfriend, you couldn't stop smiling. And the insinuation that he would be visiting multiple times made you giddy. You just had to get through the morning and lunchtime, and then he would be here.

"Spelling words. Let's focus," you told your class. "We can worry about our visitor in a few more hours." But they were already antsy, and they remained that way until you sent them to the lunchroom to cause some havoc without you. That's when you realized that you were antsy, too. How in the world were you already so attached to Bradley that three days apart felt like a week? How were you supposed to do a deployment when the time came? Your heart ached a little bit whenever you thought about spending months away from him.

You picked at your lunch at your desk and checked your phone. Bradley texted you nearly an hour ago to let you know that he was on his way up which prompted you to scroll through some of the photos of him you had saved. "It never gets old," you muttered as you examined the first picture he ever sent you of his face. He looked so tall and handsome on the deck of the aircraft carrier, and you had to stop gawking when your kids came back to the room.

"Is Lieutenant Bradshaw coming soon?" Oliver whined on his way to his desk. "It's taking forever!"

There was no point in denying that he was the special guest, so you just said, "He should be here soon. Practice your spelling words quietly at your desk, okay?"

You walked to your door and peeked out into the hallway. The front office knew he was coming ahead of time today, so there shouldn't be much of a holdup. That's when you saw him. His combat boots squeaked on the floor as he turned the corner, and he ran his fingers through his wavy hair. Each long stride brought him closer to you, and you realized he was holding a large envelope that said CLASSIFIED as well as a coffee from Starbucks in his other hand.

"Gorgeous," he called out when his gaze met yours, and you memorized the way his pace grew quicker so he could get to you. He looked so big and strong in his flight suit, it was unreal. "I missed you," he promised, brown eyes wide and sincere, and then his lips were on yours in the sweetest kiss.

An eruption of voices from inside your classroom started a chorus of, "Oooooh!" as you laughed against your boyfriend's lips. 

"She's kissing Lieutenant Bradshaw!" Violet hissed.

"I already told you they're getting married," Jayden insisted.

"I think they might already be married," Nia whispered.

"No, because her name would be Mrs. Lieutenant Bradshaw," Oliver told everyone while Bradley erupted into laughter as well.

"Are you ready for this disaster?" you ask as you nodded toward your open door where eighteen pairs of eyes were staring back at the two of you.

"Absolutely," he rasped. "Nothing like spending an afternoon with all of my pen pals."

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Bradley followed you to the front of your classroom, fighting the urge to put his hands on your waist and pull you close the entire way. Your kids already saw him kiss you, for the second time. Maybe the third time if some of them witnessed him with his lips all over yours in the parking lot last week. You were holding the coffee he brought for you and glancing back to smile over your shoulder at him, and he had to remind himself not to cause too much of a scene in front of your class.

"What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?" you asked with a smile.

"Thank you!" your students all shouted in unison.

You were smirking at him as you said, "Thanks for visiting us again today, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"I can't seem to stay away," he replied, and when he looked up at the kids sitting at their desks, he realized they were as excited to see him as he was to see them. "I hope you're not sick of me yet."

Violet was shaking her head with her pencil poised over her notebook like she was ready to record everything Bradley said. Henry was halfway onto the top of his desk in anticipation. Jayden shouted out, "No way! You're the coolest adult I ever met!"

Bradley tried to hide his smile, but it was impossible. "You're the eighteen coolest kids I've ever met," he promised. Then he winked at you and said, "And you have a way cooler teacher than I ever had in elementary school." You sipped your coffee happily as he held up the envelope in his hand and said, "I brought a bunch of stuff with me today, including blueprints for some jets that are flown in the Navy. But first, does anyone have any questions they want me to try to answer?"

When one girl's hand shot into the air before the others, he pointed to her and said, "You're Nia, right?"

She nodded as you muttered, "I can't believe you remember who is which kid."

"Yes!" Nia said before pointing from you to Bradley. "Our teacher is really pretty, and we all saw you give her a kiss. Did you marry her?"

Bradley chuckled, and you nearly dropped your drink before ducking away from him. "Uh... not yet, Nia," he told the girl, and her face fell.

"Well, when are you going to?"

Bradley glanced toward Jayden who asked the follow up question and said, "I'm kind of hoping for next summer, but I'll let her decide."

You set the coffee down on your desk and turned to face him with surprise in your eyes. "How about we stay on the topic of aviation?" you asked your class, but your voice sounded soft and breathy. "What's in the classified envelope, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you asked, barely meeting his eyes as you smiled. "Is it really classified?"

Bradley cleared his throat and murmured, "Nah, I just thought it looked cooler." He really wanted to hear your thoughts on his comment about next summer, but that could wait. "But, at one point in time, these blueprints really were classified government property." He emptied the contents out onto Harrison's desk in the row and held up the first blueprint. "Does this look familiar to anyone? I might have sent your teacher a picture of me sitting in the cockpit of this type of jet."

"A Super Hornet!" called Oliver as he bounced in his seat.

"That's right," Bradley told him. "Anyone remember the other name for it?"

When nobody else immediately responded, you said, "It's called the F/A-18. Right?"

"Yeah," he told you with a grin. "That's a gold star and bonus points for the teacher."

You still seemed to be stuck somewhere between surprised and embarrassed, but you returned his smile and asked, "Which other blueprints do you have there?"

Bradley passed around the copy of the F-35 Lightning II before ultimately letting Oliver keep it. "I do recall you saying that flying it would be like slam dunking off the back of a dragon," he said as Oliver's entire face lit up. Then he let everyone look at the blueprints for the EA-18 Growler, the E-2 Hawkeye, and the P-8 Poseidon. There was still a stack in front of him as he said, "There are actually nineteen blueprints here, so everyone can take one home." He quickly swiped the Super Hornet from the pile and walked it over to you. "This one's yours," he told you softly, doing his best to fight the urge to kiss you.

"Cool!" shouted Henry as the blueprints ended up all over the desks. The kids were still examining them loudly as you took the one for the aircraft Bradley flew in your hands. 

"Thanks," you whispered, holding it against your chest. "And thanks for coming today."

"Lieutenant Bradshaw?" called Violet. "What happens when one of the aircrafts is broken? Do all the mechanics know how to fix all the airplanes? Or do they only learn how to fix one kind each? And where do they fix them? And did your jet ever need a mechanic?"

"That kid has aviator written all over her," Bradley muttered, letting his fingers brush the side of your hand as he walked toward Violet. "You remember my friend Marty? The mechanic from some of the videos I sent?" When she nodded, Bradley said, "Well, he knows how to fix the Super Hornets and a few other kinds of planes, too. He fixes mine all the time. That's why mechanics get deployed to aircraft carriers just like aviators do. But they also work on base on North Island in San Diego. Where I work most of the time."

Violet looked stunned. "So there are mechanics who fix the planes in San Diego?"

"Yep," Bradley replied as she clutched one of the blueprints in both hands. "In fact, I saw Marty yesterday, fixing part of a combustion chamber in the hangar when I got out of my jet."

Violet squeaked. "Oh, please, Lieutenant Bradshaw. Please, let us go to work with you one day!"

He started laughing as he turned back to look at you, but you just shrugged in response. "I mean, it would be cool," you mused as the rest of your kids chimed in.

"We could see your Super Hornet with your name on the side!"

"We could see all the airplanes!"

"We could talk to Marty!"

"We learned so much about aviation this year! Please?"

Bradley looked around the room and everyone was looking right back at him, waiting for an answer. When he met your eyes, he asked, "Are they allowed to go on a field trip?"

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When the final dismissal bell rang and your classroom emptied out, you kicked the door closed, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. "Are you serious right now?" you asked with a smile as he pushed you back against the wall and started kissing your neck. "I inquired about taking a field trip to the Naval base ages ago, and everyone essentially told me it's pretty much impossible."

"Mmm," he hummed against your jaw as you pulled him closer. "If you want it, I'll make it happen, Gorgeous."

Your mind was swirling with too much information that didn't all quite make sense but all sounded beautiful nevertheless. "I want it," you whispered. "I want the field trip, and I want you to come back to my place."

He was running the tip of his nose along your ear, and you were slowly melting. "I don't know if I can wait that long. I haven't seen you in three days," he rasped, making you shiver.

"What are you going to do when you're deployed?" you asked him softly, trailing your fingers through his wavy hair.

Bradley groaned. "Baby, we are not talking about that right now."

His deliberate kisses made their way from your neck to your lips, but after a few seconds, you couldn't hold back any longer. You broke the kiss. "Were you serious? About next summer? You and me?"

Bradley's expression was soft as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip and said, "Okay, that we can talk about." Your heart was hammering in your chest as you kissed the side of his thumb. "Gorgeous," he rasped. "Is it really so crazy that I'm convinced we have a future together?"

"No." Your answer was immediate and sincere, because you already knew you felt the same way. "It's not crazy."

He kissed you hard on the lips before taking a step away from you. "Let's get out of here. I'm not going to be able to behave for much longer."

You were all smiles as you added, "And you're going to need to be fed soon."

"See? You already know exactly how to handle me."

Bradley carried your heavy tote bag and travel mug to your car while you held onto the Super Hornet blueprint, and then he followed you back to your apartment in his Bronco. It was almost comical having him there, taking up so much space in each small room, but your smile vanished when he looked you up and down with those pretty brown eyes.

"We should definitely fool around before we eat dinner," you said, and he immediately had you in his arms.

"A hundred percent," he replied, stumbling along to your bedroom. His flight suit was rough against your fingers, but his kisses were soft and sweet. Half of your clothing was off by the time you reached your bed, but he was still trying to pull one of his long sleeves down his arm.

"This is awkward," he mumbled with a laugh as you unhooked your bra. "This fucking flight suit." His movements slowed even more as he watched you drop to your knees in front of him in just your tiny underwear, and you started untying his boots. You looked up at him as you helped him take them off and tossed them aside, and then you pulled his flight suit down to his thighs. "Oh fuck," he whispered, running his fingers along your cheek as you kissed his erection through his briefs.

With his flight suit around his ankles, you looked up at his face and reached for the elastic waistband of his underwear. "Is this okay?" You tugged them down, his cock springing free, and you ran your lips along the tip, waiting for permission to do more.

"Holy shit," he gasped, yanking his undershirt over his head and nodding enthusiastically. "This is never not going to be okay."

You laughed softly before parting your lips and taking the velvety soft head of his cock onto your tongue. Bradley's eyes were glued to your mouth as you swirled your tongue in deliberately slow circles before taking him a little deeper. He was big and thick, but you took him as far as you could over and over, bobbing your head until your eyes watered.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned when you licked at the strands of your saliva dripping down his balls. "Gorgeous. You're filthy." You looked up at him as you rubbed your cheek against his thigh. "And so damn sweet, Baby."

You nuzzled and kissed along his balls, taking his throbbing cock in one hand and giving him a squeeze. Bradley groaned and readjusted his footing, so you did it again. Now he was muttering your name softly and running his fingers along your hair as you sucked on his balls and jerked him off. He let you go for a few minutes, his abs flexing with each labored breath he took, and then you started to suck his cock again.

"Okay, okay," he eventually rasped, reaching for your shoulders and yanking you carefully to your feet. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were parted as you turned away from him and got onto your hands and knees on the bed. He made a strangled noise, but as soon as you glanced back at him, he was on you, pulling your underwear to the side.

"Oh my god," you gasped. His hands were a bit rough on your hips as he started to push himself inside you, and he took you just like that. After a few hard thrusts, you were whining for more, legs shaking with need.

Bradley was babbling as he fucked you, his chest pressed to your back, one big hand stroking down the front of your body to your clit. "You're so fucking tight. Holy shit." He kissed along your shoulder. "You smell so good. I love you, Gorgeous." It sounded like he was lost in you, his voice just behind your ear as he pressed two fingers to your clit until you were panting and coming apart.

Even when you were both spent, he pulled you to your feet while he was still buried deep, and you were slightly dizzy from your receding orgasm. His lips were soft on your neck, and he held you to his chest with his big hands on your body. "If you want a North Island field trip for your class, I'll get right on making it happen first thing tomorrow morning."

You melted against him and whispered, "We're not talking about tomorrow yet. Not when I get to spend the whole night with you first. Let's go make dinner." His stomach growled in response, and you kissed him and said, "I love you."

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This is every kid's dream field trip! I'm actually a little jealous! Bradley better be able to make this happen for his pen pals. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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[lcriedlastnight]

Enemies to lovers with Lando: "you want me?" "you know i do"

thank you so much for your request, anon!

tw: fem!reader, swears, wee bit angsty, she's a big one, dickhead!lando. lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 2.8k

this weekend had gone horrible for lando so far, and of course as his assistant you had gotten the brunt of it. on days like this you don't know why you didn't just quit your job. lando clearly didn't like you, in fact you would go as far to say that he hated you and wouldn't everything go much more smoothly if you both liked each other? you lay awake in bed at night - especially after a rough day of running around like a headless chicken after lando - thinking about having a job where your boss didn't curse the ground you walked on.

you had been working overtime this weekend, making sure that lando had everything he needed all weekend for press conferences, meetings with zak and andrea and even when he needed a second alone to himself in his drivers room, you would make sure to tell anyone who was looking for him that he was busy, just so he could get a break. you had decided when lando was in looking at data after both free practise rounds on friday to grab a bite to eat. you hadn't eaten since breakfast, it was now a little past five. it wasn't an exaggeration to say you were starving.

you head towards some tables next to the cafeteria and pull what you had brought for lunch out of your bag. you pull out your phone, scrolling through your texts, one catching your eye. it was the groupchat you had with all your friends, baring in mind there was only four of you.

'it's like a double date but for the four of us!" lara, had said. the other girls seemed to disagree with whatever her idea was. you scroll down further to see the newer messages.

'what if we set her up? i'm sure her boss will give her the saturday off to go on a date with him." again it was lara who suggested it, but it caught your eye because she was talking about you. who was she trying to set you up with and why was she even doing it in the first place? there was also no way lando would be giving you saturday off, never mind during a race weekend.

you tell them so before hearing the distinct voices of lando and zak chatting away as they make their way down the hall. you sigh and pack away your half eaten lunch. you could've finished it, you were sure lando wasn't that much of a dick that he would deny you of food but you didn't want him to hold it over your head. you knew for certain he would do that. you shove the lunch bag into the bigger bag then sling it over your shoulder. your phone pings, a message from the groupchat.

'too late it's already set up, ask your boss and we'll go shopping on monday when you're home.' lara says. you could kill her. you don't respond, just shoving your phone into your pocket and walking over to lando and zak.

"hey, great to see you again!" zak greets you with a cheery smile. it's easy to happy around zak, the only time you've seen him annoyed or upset has been on bad race days. you're sort of surprised he is so because lando has not been performing so far this weekend. you bite your tongue on that one, instead giving him a smile back and returning his polite words.

"well look, as i said before, this is only friday, the only day where what you drive like matters is sunday. that's when we get the points. although i'm sure you will be back on your game tomorrow. we all have off days." zak tells lando, a comforting hand on his shoulder before he walks off in the direction he came in. you spot oscar too, so there is no doubt that it is oscar's turn for his driving this weekend to be analysed. oscar's weekend comapred to lando's has been pretty good.

"that's you for today. nothing else you're needed for." you tell lando, triple checking his calandar, making sure you were looking friday. the time where you were accidentally looking at his saturday schedule instead stays at the forefront of your mind whenever you look at his calandar.

"i know. you told me that before." lando remarks, his voice blunt and a little nasty. its like your presence just pisses lando off. you remember the date your friends set you up with and will courage to fill your veins before asking him.

"what are you still doing standing there?" lando asks, not genuinely asking, just wanting you to leave him alone. he hates seeing you outside of work and although you were in the paddock, he deems this outside of work.

you take a deep breath before just directly asking him. "can i have next saturday off?". lando stops untying his fireproofs. he looks up at you.

"why? why are you making plans on a race weekend?" he condescends, like you were stupid.

"i didn't. my friends set me up on a date without asking." you explain. you hated explaining yourself to him but you knew if there was any chance you were getting saturday off then you had to do what he asked.

lando pauses for a second, staring at you then returns to undoing his fireproofs. "no. i need you here." he declares.

you shouldn't be shocked he said no, you really should have seen it coming but it still surprises you nonetheless.

"you can't go without me for just one day?" you ask, as if you were desperate to go on this date. now it was more about him not giving you the day off than it was about actually going on the date.

lando's brows crinkle. "no. if i give you the saturday off then you'll need the sunday off too as i'm guessing it's not here so unless you're planning on flying over straight after your date?" he spits out the end of the sentence. you had not thought about that. you are quiet as you take in his words.

"that's what i thought. tell your friends to cancel the date, you're coming with me all weekend." lando basically demands.

"i'm not sure why you even want me here. you hate me, i don't know why you haven't just fired me and found a new assistant. this would work a lot better for you if you actually liked the person you need to spend the whole weekend with." you grumble, annoyed at his attitude and how he felt like he could just go around telling you what you could and couldn't do with your life. it seriously felt like you were cutting off you social life for this job. you storm past lando and straight out of the paddock into the uber waiting for you, it stands out against the rich, fancy cars surrounding it in the carpark.

you drive back to the hotel in silence, in one of those moods where everything was annoying you. you hate the fact that you had to stay in the same hotel as him. you had never been this mad at your job before. you try to unwind once you are back at the hotel by jumping into the shower but it does not help.

once you have gotten yourself dry and have gotten changed for bed, you eat the rest of your ruined lunch/dinner and text your friends back letting them know that lando was in fact, not giving you the day off for the date. you then throw yourself into bed. you put the tv on but the only channel that spoke english was the news channel and you seriously couldn't care less about the way people make tea. how did stuff like this even make the news anyway?

you scroll through all your social media apps then decide to download a job app. you enter your qualifications, cv and a description about yourself and your current job. you apply to a few then feel yourself getting tired so you set your alarms and head to sleep, dreading having to see lando tomorrow. you hope he's in a good mood because even though it doesn't matter what mood lando is in, he's still a dick to you, he's a little bit nicer when he's in a better mood.

you go over everything in the morning before you leave, making sure you have everything. as you make your way to the uber waiting outside the hotel, you check the job app but you have no new notifications. you usually only uber back to the hotels and lando drives you there seeing as you both have to arrive at the same time but there was no way you were spending more time than what you had to with him today. you seen him in the hotel carpark getting into his car when your uber was pulling away, so at least you knew he would be on time.

you and lando arrive at the paddock at the same time, you know you would have to wait for him before going in because andrea wanted to have a quick meeting with the three drivers ahead of the practise session and qualifying.

lando sees you waiting and eventually catches up to you. "andrea wants to see you guys before free practise today. i don't know how long for but it might be long 'cause he wants to talk about quali too." you don't look up from your phone as you read out what had been added to his calendar late last night.

"alright." lando replies. there's no nasty comments, no bluntness and no condescension. you are completely shocked but don't let it show on your face as you both walk inside the mclaren motor home together.

you spot oscar in the corner, eating some sort or energy bar? or maybe some kind of breakfast bar. either way it reminded you that lando probably hasn't eaten yet today, so as he and oscar head towards the meeting room you try to find something lando can eat. oscar has told you many times that making sure lando eats is not in the assistants job responsibilities and yet you feel yourself compelled to make sure he is taking care of himself.

you grab a few of the same bars you seen oscar eating earlier before heading towards the meeting room. you hate walking into the meeting room when there was meetings going on so you try your best not to do it. you have only had to do it once and it was the worst thing you've ever had to do. you were so embarrassed.

everyone is surprised at your interruption but you give them a shy smile and head towards lando. you don't say anything just setting the three bars down on the table in front of him. lando locks eyes with you. "thank you." he says.

this time you can't hide your shock as it's written plainly on your face. it's hidden from the others in the room except lando. you only smile in response then rush out the room. what is going on with him today? you sit on the same table you tried to take your break on yesterday as you respond to emails of lando's behalf and it hits you. lando is clearly feeling bad. you'll talk to him before qualifying.

the meeting ends ends and both mclaren boys are quick to get ready for free practise. from the looks of it, zak was right. lando was back in the game today. he came in third on the time sheets. you hoped this would mean a good qualifying, if not for lando and mclaren but for you. this good mood and lando treating you nicer would definitely go down in flames if lando didn't place in the top five for qualifying. you have never been religious, but you prayed then for it to happen.

you stood at the back of the garage, talking to one of lando's engineers when the man himself came over and dragged you away from him. you didn't even get a chance to apologise for lando's rude behaviour before you were both standing in the hallway to the driver rooms.

lando doesn't speak he just leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a hesitant and light, kiss. when you didn't react he kissed you again with a little more force. every single thing in you was telling you to kiss him back but there was a single thought in your brain that reminded you who he was and how had treated you the past year. you end up pulling away and asking "what are you doing?".

lando looks at you confused. "you know what i'm doing." he utters, voice laced with confusion, like he seriously didn't understand what the problem with kissing you out of nowhere was.

"uh i don't think i do." you cross your arms, waiting for an expantation.

"i want you." lando tried to say confidently, but it comes out a little weaker than what he expected. he puffs out his chest and stands a bit taller, trying to see more confident.

"you want me?" you repeat back to him. surely he wasn't being serious.

"you know i do." lando responds, hand flying up to cup your cheek. you look at him confused. there is no way he has been living the same year that you have. what the fuck does he mean 'i want you'? you have literally never felt more confused in your life.

"do i? last time we spoke you wouldn't let me have a day off?" you remind him. you want to remind him of a lot of things right now, like every single moment he made you go home or even back to your hotel room and cry. his hand moves from your cheek.

"yeah and why do you think that was? because you were going on a date. with some guy. i don't want you going on dates with random guys i want you going on dates with me." lando tries, desperate to explain himself to you.

"i don't think you have a right to tell me who i can and can't go out with, lando." you are seething. who does he think he is messing around in your life like this? "you're abusing your position as my employer."

"fine. you want the weekend off to go on a date? you can have it off then." lando says, firm and a little sad. before you can say anything back to him, he storms away into his drivers room. you don't know why you just did that. you don't even want to go on the date, you would love to go on the date with lando instead, just like he proposed but you were still annoyed at the way he treated you. you know why he did it now but it still doesn't make it right.

you don't see lando for hours until there are people crowding around his driver room telling him it's time to come out for qualifying. you guess from the noise that lando eventually comes out. zak is there telling him information about the car. you suddenly feel that you need to tell him you do like him. right now. you just felt like he had to know. so you squeeze through the people making their way to his car with him. you find lando's hand and give it a tight squeeze to get his attention.

you pull him closer before you whisper into ear, not wanting all the people surrounding him to hear. "i want you too, but you hurt me. apologise and we can maybe work something out." you reveal. lando's eyes widen, with what you can clearly tell is happiness. he doesn't even have any time to answer you so all he gets to do is nod as he's told to get into the car.

you watch the qualifying with eager eyes, this is the fiirst time since you started that you were actually excited to watch lando race, even though it was just qualifying. he really does put the 'flying' into the flying laps. after a very long hour, lando qualifies in second.

"front row for lando!" the garage exclaims in joy. you can't help but join in. you all wait for lando's car to return to the garage before people are patting him on the shoulder in congradualations.

lando speaks to a few people before he spots you through the crowd, he wades through it to get to you. "hi. i'm so fucking sorry for being a dick to you for the past year. i don't know how to cope with my feelings and i ended up turning positive feeling into negative ones and taking it out on you. i'm so fucking sorry, please let me make it up to you." lando begs. you don't know how he knew that you didn't want anything big as an apology, just lando admitting he was wrong was enough for you.

you nod with a smile to his question and lando seals it with a kiss, not caring that the garage was filled with people and most importantly cameras. he could deal with that later. for right now he had you.

[ginax0916]

hii could u do sturniolo triplets x fem reader where they treat her like one of them and toss shit at her but then they accidentally hurt her and they all panic. (maybe one of them have a secret crush on her up to u?)

★‧𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭‧★

Sturniolo Triplets x fem!bsf

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Filming a car goes wrong when a small accident happens.

Warning: Blood mentioned.

*this is gonna be just platonic so they’re just besties*

I love this request by the way, tysm! 🫶🏻

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

I’ve been friends with the triplets for longer than I can remember. They practically call me their sister now. So it isn’t unusual for me to appear in their videos. I’m usually in the vlogs just because I think they’re funner to film than car videos.

We are all currently sitting on their couch watching random videos on YouTube eating ice pops.

“Guys I’m bored” Chris says.

“Ok then what do you wanna do?” I ask.

“I don’t know but something other than whatever this is” Chris lays back on the couch sighing.

“How about we start filming the car video for Friday?” Nick says.

“But it’s literally Sunday” Matt says looking at Nick.

“Yea but we already have our Wednesday video filmed, and if we film our Friday video today we can have the rest of the week free” Nick explains.

“That’s a good idea” I say.

“Would you be in it y/n?” Matt asks.

“I’ve got nothing better to do so yea” I chuckle.

“Ok then let’s go!” Chris jumps up from the couch with a sudden outburst of energy.

-

“Look over there it’s all empty” Nick points to an empty part of the Walgreens parking lot where we chose to film.

“Ok that’s good, Chris start getting the camera ready” Matt says, driving to the spot farthest away from people.

Either way it is 12 am so there weren’t much people out anyway.

“Do we even have a topic?” I ask.

“No but we can just start speaking and see where it gets us” Nick replies.

“Do you guys want anything from Walgreens before we start?” Matt questions as he looks at Nick and I from the rearview mirror.

“Yes I want candy and a drink” Nick says.

“Me too” I say looking at Matt.

“Alright I’ll go get it” He answers while unbuckling his seat belt.

“I’ll go with you” I quickly say.

“Yea same you never get me the right candy” Chris rolls his eyes.

“Ok well I guess I have to go too now” Nick sighs.

We all got our candy and drinks except for Nick who couldn’t decide what he wanted to drink. Per usual.

“For the love of god Nick fucking choose” Chris groans.

“But there’s so many options!! I can’t do this” Nick replies grabbing his hair in frustration.

“Nick if you don’t choose something in the next 20 seconds we’re leaving” Matt sternly says.

“Oh my god look” Nick gasps.

“What” I say confused.

“They have glass bottles of coke!” Nick exclaims grabbing one from the fridge.

“Why the fuck would you want a glass bottle of coke? Just get the can” Chris comments.

“No I’m getting this. What if it tastes better in a glass bottle than in a can?” Nick questions.

“Just give me the damn thing so I can pay and go film the video for fucks sake” Matt says annoyed at his brother, as he walks to the check out.

“Mamas mad” I joke causing Chris and Nick to laugh.

-

“What the fuck is up YouTube! Welcome back to this week’s Friday video that we happen to be filming on a Sunday” Chris screams as soon as the camera starts recording, causing us all to flinch.

“Chris stop being so loud” I say grabbing his arm.

“Well we have to have a memorable intro no?” He answers, turning his body to look at me in the backseat.

“Well yea but don’t yell” I chuckle.

“Guys is it just me or did this car shrink” Nick says moving around swinging the bottle of coke in his hands.

“Nick stop you’re gonna hit me” I say shielding my face in case he does hit me.

“I hope he hits you and you break your nose” Matt says with no emotion on his face.

“Damn alright Matthew very sweet of you” I sarcastically say.

“Did you guys know that every star you see in the night sky is bigger and brighter than our sun” Chris randomly says.

“That’s not fucking true” Matt argues.

“IT IS TRUE SEARCH IT UP” Chris yells.

“Chris how many times do I have to tell you to stop screaming!” I raise my voice at him.

“Well he’s doubting my facts!” He argues back.

“Well Matt did you search it up?” Chris smirks.

“Shut up” Matt smiles.

“I told you soooo” Chris laughs.

“I finished my coke” Nick burps.

“You’re gross” I scrunch my face.

“Yea dude stop fucking burping everywhere you’re turning into Chris” Matt replies going off what I said.

“What did you say to me? I am most definitely not turning into Chris. In fact I’m better” Nick starts to argue still swinging the bottle around as he moves his arms.

“Hey! What did I do!” Chris complains.

“Oh my god” I sigh knowing they’re all about to fight.

“Oh shut up Chris sit down” Matt says in Chris’s face.

“You sit down tough guy get out of my face” Chris argues back.

“Can ya’ll just shut up please” I say rubbing my temples.

“Sorry sorry” Nick says exhaling as he rests his head on the head rest of Matt seat.

“Here I’m done with my Pepsi” Chris throws his empty can at me.

“Do I look like a trash can to you” I say annoyed.

“I’m done with my sprite too” Matt says throwing his empty spite bottle in my face.

“Oh my god why am I being attacked” I laugh.

“Wait this was from yesterday I’m done with it too” Chris adds on, throwing an empty Fanta bottle at my face again while laughing.

“That’s so gross” I laugh at him.

“Oh take this one too” Matt laughs throwing another empty soda bottle in my face which I attempt to shield.

“How dirty is your fucking car” I giggle.

“Here take mine too” Nick says throwing his glass bottle at my face, forgetting it’s glass.

“Ow Nick what the fuck that’s glass!” I raise my voice grabbing my nose as I feel a burning sensation.

“Oh shit I forgot it’s glass oh my god” Nick gasps.

“Nick why the fuck would you do that! You ok y/n?” Chris yells at Nick then turns to me.

“No not really” I quietly say trying to hold back tears.

“Lift your head up y/n” Matt softly says grabbing my chin to lift my face.

Their eyes all widen as they see blood coming out of my nose.

“Oh fuck” Chris says getting out of the car and opening the door to my side.

“Y/n im so sorry oh my god” Nick freaks out.

“Nick apologize later right now to into Walgreens and buy tissues or paper towels and some Advil for the pain. A bottle of water too” Matt says to Nick then rushing to where Chris had pulled me out of the car so I wouldn’t get blood on the seats.

“C’mere sit down and tilt your head up” Chris softly says pulling me to the ground and gently grabbing my head and tilting it back.

“I’m gonna have a panic attack I hate blood” I say as my breathing picks up and tears slowly slide down my face.

“Hey hey shh. It’s ok me and Chris are right here with you and Nick is getting some stuff to help you ok? It’s okay” Matt comforts me and pinches the bridge of my nose to help stop the flow of the blood and rubs on of my shoulder with his other hand.

“Does it hurt?” Chris asks while he rubs my knee.

“Mhm” I mumble closing my eyes.

“Here I got the stuff. Fuck I’m so so sorry please don’t die” Nick freaks out.

“Nick she’s not gonna die don’t say shit like that calm down” Chris replies.

“It’s okay Nick it was an accident I forgive you” I quietly say trying not to move my head much.

“Alright here hold that there” Matt puts some paper towels under my nose to soak the blood which was starting to become less.

“Can you swallow a pill?” Nick questions.

“Mhm” I nod.

“Open” Chris taps the side of my cheek indicating me to open my mouth, and so I do.

“Here’s water” Chris softly says, handing me water to swallow the pill he put in my mouth.

“How’s your nose sweetheart?” Matt asks, moving hair out of my face.

“It’s better and the blood stopped” I answer moving the paper towel away to see that there was no more blooding come out.

“Y/n I’m so sorry please forgive me” Nick engulfs me in a hug.

“It’s ok Nick I promise. I’m not mad it was just an accident” I say forgiving him and hugging him back.

“Alright c’mon let’s just go back home and order food and watch a movie how does that sound?” Chris asks me as he helps me up so we can all get back into the car.

“Mhm sounds good” I mumble.

“I kinda jinxed this whole situation I said I hope he hits you” Matt laughs as he starts the car.

“You really did jinx it Matt” I say.

“Guys the camera was recording the whole time” Chris points out.

“Well then this a hell of a video” Nick laughs.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

Tried my best 🤗😛

[star-girl69]

hi everyone! this is so lazy but pls enjoy 🫶🫶

warnings: swearing and also slight freaky stuff 😣

you: good morning my sweet girlfriend

kk: wtf

kk: why r u not in my bed??

you: babe… i told u i had to leave early this morning bc i had an appt

kk: for what?

you: getting my nails done

kk: u abandoned me to get ur nails done?

you: yes…?

you: i don’t think i appreciate this attitude maybe i’ll just go back to my dorm

kk: please come back to my place.

you: say pretty please with sprinkles on top

kk: y/n

you: ok see u tmrw then

kk: pretty please with sprinkles on top.

you: ofc i will come back to urs 🥰

kk: 🙄

you: attitude????

kk: no ily

you: aww i love u too!

—-

you: can u plz drive me to my friend’s birthday dinner on friday and pick me up

kk: what times

you: drop me off at 6 pick me up at 9

kk: ok no problem

you: thank u ily

you: i would carpool w my friend serena but i don’t trust her in a car

you: she runs red lights a lot lol

kk: ??? plz don’t ever get into a car with her. i will drive u always

you: aww ur so sweet! not wanting me to die 🥰

kk: anything for my passenger princess

—-

you: CAROLINE ROSE HARVEY

kk: im sorry

kk: i’m so sorry

kk: i’ll make it up to you i promise im so sorry

…

laila: what did you do to kk 😭😭

laila: she’s staring at her phone in horror and when i asked her what was wrong she just said y/n before putting her head in her hands

you: i’m letting her sit in fear for a minute

laila: i admire you a lot ❤️

…

you: so i wake up this morning

kk: yes and u looked so pretty when i left

you: thank u

you: anyways and i then go about my day and i’m ready to run out and do my errands i look at myself in the mirror

kk: and u saw how beautiful u r?

you: yes and also i saw a GAINT FUCKING HICKEY ON MY NECK

you: SEVERAL OF THEM ACTUALLY

kk: do u really want me to say sorry for that

you: yes??? i need so much makeup to cover this up. actually i think u should buy new concealer for me

kk: as long as i can do it again

you: no this is so embarrassing

kk: it’s ok you’ll be saying different later

kk: besides u were encouraging me last night

you: ur delusional i’ve never done that

kk: if u say so babe but we both know

you: *link to new concealer*

kk: just bought 2 prepare to use them up

you: no

kk: yessss

you: no

kk: 😉

you: die

kk: ❤️

—-

you: i’m really craving chick fil a

kk: ok

you: i’m REALLY craving chick fil a

kk: u mentioned that

you: bye u don’t care abt me

you: gonna go text my other hoes

kk: u don’t have other hoes

you: im about to

kk: we’ll see

you: PLEASE GET ME CHICK FIL A

you: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

kk: thought u were texting other hoes?

you: i lied ur my only hoe and ilysm

you: plz get me chick fil a

you: i’ll do a cartwheel on it

kk: ???

kk: babe i’ll get u chick fil a

kk: thanks tho? i think

you: YAYYYY

—-

kk: i know ur asleep right now and i know u r very tired and i’m sorry but i forgot my helmet can u pls bring it to me at the rink

you: how did u forget ur helmet

you: like it weighs 10 pounds and it’s huge

kk: mean

kk: and idk i’m stupid plz bring it

you: ugh fine i’m On my way!

you: omw.

you: im not excited

kk: i love u so much u r the light of my life i cannot imagine waking up without ur beautiful face next to me u are brighter than the sun and i love u

you: thank u shakespeare ur so romantic

you: can we go shopping tmrw and u pay i need new pants

kk: u don’t need pants

you: it’s 9am

kk: yes we can go shopping tmrw

you: love u!

kk: ❤️

—-

you: hi

you: are u doing anything tn?? i feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever

kk: i know baby i miss u

kk: i have practice until 8 but u can come over still after? sleepover?

you: yes definitely i’ll be there

kk: i cant wait to see u pretty girl

—-

you: omg this restaurant looks so good we should go

kk: sunday at 6?

you: um yes i’m free

kk: just made a reservation

you: damn 😭 i’m impressed

kk: whatever my girl wants she gets 🤷‍♀️

—-

you: hi baby

…

you: so what position u got her in rn?

you: missionary? cowgirl?

kk: why do i love u

you: blocked

kk: i have no girls in no positions except for u

you: why are u so busy then?

kk: picked up this new hobby called hockey idk if it will go anywhere

kk: been at the gym for an hour about to go hit the rink

you: send workout pics 😜

—-

kk: hiiiiiiiiii

you: hi babe

kk: tone down that attitude plz

you: ?

kk: actually

kk: turn around show me that ass

you: are u drunk rn

kk: maybe

kk: you have an amazing ass do i tell u that enough

kk: i should tell u more

kk: i love ur ass

you: thank u…

you: do u need to be picked up?

kk: no laila is dd

kk: wanted to talk to my pretty girl

you: u sure know how to make a girl blush

kk: only u babe

kk: i like ur boobs too

you: oh my god pls hand the phone to laila

kk: this is laila don’t worry we’re going home rn

you: laila ur a goddess thank u

kk: i try ❤️❤️

—-

[withwritersblock]

More Hearts Than Mine-Her Hometown Friends Visit

~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: back to my fav series Summary: Her hometown friends visit and meet Luke for the first time Warnings: swearing Word Count: 2,871 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

She wanted everything to be perfect. This was the first time her childhood best friends would be meeting Luke and their apartment. Usually Y/N would go home to visit them but they wanted to meet Luke. And it just so happened to be a weekend where Luke would be home because he had games Friday and Sunday at home. 

She kept trying to tell her friends that it would be too hard to have them visit on such a crazy weekend for Luke. But Luke convinced her otherwise. They were no longer in the fight for a playoff spot, all he wanted to do was finish the season strong. He didn’t care that they could be a distraction, maybe he needed one.

She was vigorously wiping the kitchen counter for the fifth time that morning as she waited for her friends to show up. They were driving up from their hometown and it was early. Luke was unloading the dishwasher as he watched her frantically spray the counter again.

“My love, I don’t think it can get any cleaner,” he mumbled as he placed the last of the mugs into the cabinet. She let out a groan as she walked away from the counter towards the bathroom. Luke watched her walk away as he pursed his lips forward. “Okay,” he murmured as he closed the dishwasher. He took a deep breath as he wandered away from the kitchen.

“Baby?” he called out as he followed her towards the bathroom. She didn’t reply. He walked up to the door as he watched her scrub the bathroom counter for the fifth time. “You’ve cleaned that four times already,”

“Well, you should’ve said this weekend was a bad time for them to come visit,” she mumbled as she lifted her head to meet her own gaze in the mirror. He leaned against the door frame as he looked towards her through the mirror.

“You put me on the spot, what was I supposed to say?” he asked softly. She took a deep breath. 

“Sorry, they’re just overwhelming sometimes with their ‘we’re so perfect, we’re so in love. Our lives are so perfect’,” she mumbled as she rested the cleaning bottle and the rag onto the counter as she turned towards Luke.

“You don’t need to impress them, they’re your friends,” he explained. She took in a long breath as she nodded.

“You’re right,” she mumbled. 

“Of course I am,” he teased as he scanned her frame.

“When are they supposed to be here?” he asked as he stepped into the bathroom, forcing her to step backwards. She met his gaze, watching his eyes squint slightly. His cheeks flushed slightly as he slowly shut the door behind him. 

“Maybe another thirty minutes,” she mumbled. He nodded as he quickly took a hold of the end of his shirt and threw it over his head. “Oh,” she mumbled as he quickly took a hold of her cheeks, kissing her urgently. She ran her fingers through his hair as he slowly guided her back towards the shower. 

She pulled away, reaching behind her to turn on the shower. “I actually have to shower too,” she mumbled as she pulled the shirt off of her frame, he simply hummed as he quickly began to take off the rest of his clothes. Giggles falling from their lips as they stumble into the shower together.

Another thirty minutes passed as she hopped out of the shower before Luke, she wrapped her towel around her body as she walked out of the bathroom. She began walking towards the bedroom, when there were loud knocks against her front door. “Shit,” she mumbled as she quickly walked into her room. 

She reached towards her phone that was ringing on her bed. She took a hold of her phone seeing her friend, Delilah, calling her. She pulled the phone towards her ear as she answered. “Hey, give me a couple minutes,” she mumbled into the phone.

“Door’s unlocked, can we just walk in?” she asked.

“No, I’ll be there in a second, promise,” she mumbled as she quickly slid a pair of jeans up her frame. She hopped slightly as she pulled the phone away from her ear. She ended the call as she dropped the phone onto the bed. She pulled a cropped t-shirt as she covered her frame. 

She brushed a piece of wet hair away from her face before she left the bedroom quickly. She banged her hand against the door, “They’re here!” she shouted into the bathroom. Luke shouted something back but she didn’t hear him as she jogged towards the front door of her apartment. 

She took a deep breath as she swung the door open. She smiled widely as she saw Delilah and Parker. They were her neighbors and Y/N had spent her whole life watching Delilah and Parker fall in love. They didn’t end up getting together until they were seventeen but the three of them have always been inseparable. 

Well, until Delilah and Parker got into a relationship. It became the two of them and sometimes Y/N. So it was always exhausting being around them. 

“Come on in!” Y/N forced out as she stepped aside letting the pair step inside. Their eyes quickly danced around the apartment as they walked inside. Scanning each corner and each piece of furniture. 

“This place is-” Delilah paused, “It’s cute!” she cheered excitedly, Y/N couldn’t tell if she was genuine or not. She delicately placed her bag onto the kitchen counter. Y/N watched a small piece of dirt fall onto the counter. 

“Hi Y/N,” Parker mumbled as he walked towards Y/N. He bear hugged her. Y/N smiled softly as she returned the hug excitedly. “This place is genuinely a lot nicer than some of the places I’ve seen in the city,” he explained. She nodded.

“Well that’s because she has that fancy NHL boyfriend, where is he anyway?” Delilah asked as she continued looking around the apartment, looking at the photo frame on the wall. It was a photo collage on the wall. It was a handful of photos of them with their families. One specific photo stood out. It was a photo of them together at her family’s house. Delilah’s smile faltered slightly at the sight. 

“He’s-”

“Hey, sorry,” Luke jogged out of the bedroom, a t-shirt and jeans on his frame. His curls dripped water as he reached the living room. Parker glanced towards Luke, a smirk toying to his lips as he looked towards Y/N’s wet hair.

“Nice to meet you, man,” Parker held out his hand for Luke. Luke smiled as he shook his hand. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Luke mumbled as he protectively walked towards Y/N. Loosely wrapping his arm around her waist. He shifted his gaze towards Delilah, she had a small scowl on her face. “I’m the one that actually moved into this place, Y/N lived here first,” Luke said as he pointed his attention towards Delilah, already deciding he wasn’t a huge fan of her.

Delilah had a smile form to her lips once she met Luke’s gaze, “Well, look at that,” Delilah mumbled. Parker took a hold of Delilah and the sinister smirk on her lips fell as her gaze softened. 

“So Luke’s playing tonight, and we got some lower bowl seats for us tonight,” Y/N offered as she met Luke’s gaze. Parker perked up as his eyes widened.

“Okay, I was trying to be all cool but dude I’m a huge fan of you and your team,” Parker let out while laughing. Luke smiled shyly as he dropped his head. 

“Thanks, that’s-that’s great,” he muttered. Y/N delicately ran her hand up and down Luke’s back soothingly. Knowing that he always feels awkward when situations like this happen. He took a deep breath, “I gotta start getting ready in a couple hours, but we can get some lunch if you guys want,” Luke offered, wanting to change the subject.

“That’d be great! I just want to get changed and ready, Y/N why don’t you help me get dressed and put on makeup?” Delilah offered as she looped her arm around Y/N’s and forced her to where she thought the bedroom was. Y/N glanced towards Luke desperately. Parker dropped his head while hiding his laughter.

Luke looked towards Parker. “Want to sit?” Luke asked, pointing towards the couch as the girls disappeared. Parker nodded as he followed Luke towards the couch. They sat down on the opposite sides, awkward tension filled the air. 

“I’m sorry about D,” Parker mumbled as he shifted his gaze towards Luke. Luke clenched his jaw as he met Parker’s gaze, “Her and Y/N have always had a complicated friendship,” Parker expressed.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he pressed his lips together. “Delilah has always thought there was competition over everything but especially me,” Luke leaned back against the couch, ��Y/N and I were friends first, she’s practically my sister. I never even looked at her that way but Delilah’s always had some jealousy towards Y/N,” he explained. 

Luke clenched his jaw, picturing Y/N hugging Parker, suddenly analyzing every touch and glance the pair shared. Parker’s eyes widened, “Y/N never liked me like that, practically my sister, man,” 

“I believe you, I do. Just confused as to why Delilah thinks it’s a competition,” Luke explained while crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m not even sure but she’s always asking me why I picked her over Y/N when there wasn’t even a choice.” Parker explained, “I’m just giving you a heads up, it’s gonna be a long weekend.”

Luke let out a sigh as he stared towards the ceiling.

~~~

“Do you remember that time at Frankie’s party when you got into his hot tub withou-” Delilah started when Y/N kicked her from under the table. “What? You don’t want Luke to find out your secrets from high school,” she teased.

Y/N forced a smile as she panicky took a hold of Luke’s hand from beneath the table. He squeezed her hand a few times as he shoved a dramatic bite of salad into his mouth. “It’s not a secret, just not a story I’m fond of,” she mumbled. 

“Oh come on, Parker, you remember! She got that dare from Frankie to get into the hot tub naked with Henry and she did!” Delilah tilted her head back laughing. No one else at the table was laughing. 

Y/N took in a sharp breath as she glanced towards Luke and Parker. “I only did that because you told me that is the only way Henry would’ve liked me,” she explained, a small smirk on her lips. “And then we dated for two years. So I guess you were right,” she clenched her jaw as she dropped her gaze back down towards her salad. 

“No wonder why your dad didn’t like the guy,” Luke muttered. Y/N rolled her eyes as she squeezed his hand. She hasn’t spoken to her dad since Luke moved in, neither of them have made an effort to speak. He still doesn’t approve of Y/N and Luke living together. 

“Yeah, well, my dad doesn’t like you very much right now, so you have no room to talk,” she muttered as she pulled her hand away from his. She reluctantly pushed her chair back away from the table. “I need to use the bathroom,” she muttered. 

“I’ll join you,” Delilah offered. 

“No, I’m good alone,” she forced out as she walked towards the bathroom.

Luke leaned back in his chair as he let out a long drawn out breath. He pursed his lips forward as he reached up and adjusted the snapback on his head. Delilah shook her head as she mocked the few words that Y/N spoke. 

“Why is she so cold?” Delilah offered while clenching her jaw. Luke rolled his eyes as he tilted his head to the side.

“I mean, you could ease up on the mean comments,” Luke let out while meeting her gaze.

“Dude,” Parker warned. 

“No, dude, I’m tired of hearing y'all make fun of my girl all the time. Just because you guys have been friends forever doesn’t mean you get to be rude,” 

“That’s just how we’ve always been!” she chuckled, “We always make fun of each other,” she smiled. Parker frowned slightly as he tilted his head back. 

“That’s funny because I have only heard you make fun of her. Y/N hasn’t even made one rude comment to you,” Luke said while he continued staring down Delilah. Parker took in a shaky breath as he cautiously shook his head.

“Who do you think you are?” Delilah started. Luke rolled his eyes, “You’ve been with her for all of five minutes and you think you know what’s good for her? I’ve known her for forteen years, I think I know how to talk to my best friend,” 

Luke took in a sharp breath as he tilted his head back as he watched Y/N walk back from the bathroom, he watched her eyes blink rapidly; forcing the tears away from her eyes. He clenched his jaw. She sat down beside him as she rested her hand onto his thigh, He tilted his head to meet her gaze. 

“I’m sorry, that was unfair of me,” she muttered. He smiled softly as he leaned towards her, kissing her briefly. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered before he kissed her one more time before he shifted his gaze towards Parker. 

Parker looked down towards his lap as he took in a shaky breath. “How the hell did you guys just do that,” Parker asked, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. Delilah furiously shifted her gaze towards Parker, scolding him. “I mean seriously, Baby, we never get over an argument that fast,”

“It wasn’t an argument,” Y/N said while smiling. 

“I mean it looked like the start of one,” Parker offered. Luke took a hold of her thigh, running his hand soothingly. “Luke, why didn’t you try to defend yourself?” Delilah scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Nothing to defend, I knew it wasn’t personal,” Luke said as he squeezed her thigh.

“See, if I said that she would’ve yelled at me,” Parker muttered as he ran his hand across his chin. 

“I am about to yell at you, if you keep dishing our fucking business to Miss Perfect,” she muttered as she stood up. “You know what, I don’t need this. I’m done trying. Let’s go Parker,” she forced out as she began walking away. Parker reluctantly stood up. 

“I’m sorry guys,” he mumbled, he met Y/N’s gaze, “I’m really sorry,” Parker followed after her. 

~~~

After Luke and Y/N walked back into their apartment, Parker and Delilah’s bags were gone. Y/N was more sad that Parker went with Delilah than standing up for himself. Over the last year, their relationship seemed to hit a rock, as Delilah's insecurities in the relationship took over. 

Y/N sat in her seat, waiting for the first period to start. Luke and the rest of the Devils were in the locker room as the zamboni cleaned the ice. She felt someone tap her shoulder, she lifted her gaze to see Parker waiting for her to move so he could sit beside her. She smiled widely. “Parker?” she offered as she stood up. She quickly hugged him. “Where’s D?” she asked. He clenched his jaw as he quickly sat down beside her. 

“Gone, she drove home, we’re done,” he muttered as he adjusted the Hischer jersey on his body. Y/N’s eyes widened. “I mean I’ve spent the last decade trying to impress her and make her happy. I’m tired, Y/N,” he mumbled. “You and Luke have been together for what, a year? You guys communicate better than Delilah and I do after five years together. I’m so tired of every little thing I say getting twisted,”

“I’m sorry Parker, I truly thought you guys would’ve ended up together,” she expressed.

He tilted his head back as the introduction to the game began, “Me too,” he slowly licked his lips as he watched the Devils get ready to jump back on the ice for the first period. “Maybe I’ll find her in the city,” he tilted his head to the side, meeting her gaze. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. 

“I’m going to move here and start over. I need a break from that place,” he explained, “And please drop your ego, I wasn’t implying you,” he said while laughing. She tilted her head back while chuckling.

“Like I would pick you over my handsome sweet boyfriend over there,” she teased as she pointed towards forty-three on the ice. Parker rolled his eyes. 

“He’s definitely good for you, I’m happy for you,” he said as he switched his gaze back on the ice, “And how could I say no to free Devils games?” he chuckled. 

“I’m glad you stayed, Parker,” she offered as she met his gaze. Parker smiled softly.

“Me too,”

[charcoallbaby]

dirty little secret

smut! choking, cheating and reader gets tied up.

someone asked for a cheating matt so here!!! very rushed but hope you enjoy! happy to be writing again.

every friday at 6:30pm he was outside my door, waiting in his car until i came outside. the second he saw me close my apartment door after myself, he immediately got out of his car, opened the passenger door for me and got back into the drivers seat.

when i got into his car, he would greet me, drive to a enclosed area and fuck me rough in his back seats.

our schedule is friday night until sunday night. he fucks me for them 2 days straight.

no one knows what we do together. not his best friend, not my bestriend not even his own brothers know what we do on the weekends. well i know for a fact that they can hear us, well mostly me. he tells me to be quiet when he’s thrusting into me but i can’t help but scream from his size.

if i ever see him in public which i mostly do, he’s my boyfriends close friend.

my boyfriend tucker. brief summary of him; he treats me like shit, he can’t make me come(matt always makes me come) and he works late on weekends so i never see him, he doesn’t suspect anything.

matt’s brothers don’t know that it’s me he’s fucking. if they knew he would definitely be called out.

as i was saying, if i ever see him in public i can’t be caught looking at him, even when he’s talking. it’s one of his rules. he’s the quietest out of the whole group, so there’s not a lot of talking coming from him.

he rubs my damp panties underneath the table with his veiny hands, with long fingers and thick rings covered on them and no one bats an eye.

it was a friday night. it was my twenty-first. my best friend violet organised a party with all our friends, matt included of course. violet made sure it was at the bar my boyfriend works at, so he could “see me.” it’s only because they don’t ID and she’s still twenty. i made sure to buy a nice fitting dress that showed my curves and of course, my boobs were nearly spilling out of it, it was all for matt. i didn’t care if my boyfriend stared at me, i didn’t care if any random guy stared at me. all i cared about was if matt stared at me. i wanted him to punish me for wearing such a revealing dress around him, i wanted him to not be able to contain himself around me.

matt and his two brothers chris and nick walked in through the door.

my breathing hitched. he looked so good.

rings covering his fingers, a chain around his neck that i loved to pull and that i broke way too many times.

“happy birthday!” nick chimed. i smiled at him, trying to not stare at his brother. “thank you nick, thank you both for coming!” my eyes skimmed past matt’s. i made eye contact with chris and smiled at him. he was sweet. “of course, where’s the restroom though?” “i’m gonna piss myself!” chris squealed. i laughed. “it’s over there to the right,” i pointed towards the back of the building. “thank you!” chris ran off. “is violet here?” nick asked. “yeah, she’s somewhere in the crowd of people.” “come find her with me!” nick dragged me by hand into the group of people.

“nick!” violet exclaimed, taking her arms off her boyfriend and wrapped her arms around nick. “how are you?” he asked pulling away. “i’m good!”

matt stood behind us. i could fill his presence. “i’m getting a drink nick, what do you want?” he mumbled. “dr pepper, you better buy the birthday girl a drink!” nick turned me around to look at matt.

matt stared down at me. i gulped. “what could you like birthday girl?” i could feel the dampness between my legs begin. “malibu and coke please.” he nodded his head before making his way over to the bar. he went straight up to tucker, my boyfriend. i tried to indulge in the conversation that violet and nick were having, i couldn’t. my eyes kept reverting back up to matt talking to tucker and i wanted to die.

matt came back with the drinks. his hand briefly touching off mine. “thanks.” i mumbled. “i’m going to find chris.” matt stated. “okay!” nick looked between me and violet.

i walked out of the restroom, well i was walking until my body clashed into something hard.

“what do you think your doing?” he growled. i looked at his arm, tattoos. matt.

“w-what do you mean,” i stuttered. “in that little slutty dress acting so innocent,” he closed the space between us making me back into the wall behind me. “i’m not innocent you know me well matt,” i batted my eyelashes. “stop!” he wrapped his hands around my neck, gently squeezing. “harder daddy,” i teased him, a smirk planted onto my face. matt’s hooded eyes stared down at me. “listen to me baby,” his grip got harder. “we’re gonna go out there and your going to tell everyone you don’t feel so good,” “your gonna go back to your apartment, strip naked for me and wait until i punish you okay?” his left hand soft caressed my face. i nodded my head. “okay good girl go!” he let go of me. as i walked away matt lightly slapped my ass making me turn back at scowl at him. he had a pretty smile on his face.

“happy birthday sweetie,” tucker wrapped his arms around my waist. i cringed at the pet name, was he my mom?

“thank you,” i gave him a fake smile. “i don’t feel so good sadly, im gonna have to head home, i have work tomorrow anyway,” i pulled away from his grip. “but it’s just my break now?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “im sorry, i’ll make it up to you.” that was a lie.

it wasn’t that late when i got home.

i slipped out of my dress into something more comfortable and layed on my couch until i heard that very familiar buzzer sound.

“i missed fucking you in my car,” matt pecked my lips. “well you get to fuck me in my bed, that’s even better.” i pecked his lips back. “come on, i have a surprise.” matt held his hand out.

i layed down on my bed, my eyes closed as matt told me to wait. my heart was beating fast, i didn’t know what to expect.

i opened my eyes. matt grabbed a tie from his jean pocket. “hands up,” he ordered. i nodded my head and quickly put my hands up for him. he roughly tied my hands against my head board. “this isn’t even the start baby,” he kissed me. i whimpered underneath him.

he left to find something in the kitchen.

i couldn’t see what he had but i could feel it.

a cold ice cube met my stomach. i gasped as matt ran it down my stomach. he guided it with his mouth, slowly meeting my thighs. a cry escaped me as matt moved the ice cube to my soaking sensitive flesh. he rubbed it over my clit. i didn’t know how it wasn’t melted already. i moaned as he made me even wetter. “please baby,” i managed to speak. “no i’m enjoying you like this,” he spoke from below me. i could barely look down at him from my arms being restrained. i put my head back, frustrated.

matt left again for the kitchen.

he came back with another piece of ice in his mouth, hovering over me.

this time he lowered the ice over my nipples making them suddenly get hard and point up. i tried to move for some friction but nothing was working. “matt-matt please, i’ll do anything,” i was now begging. he pulled away from me, dropping the ice cube down on the ground beside my bed.

“what should i start with first?” he scanned my body. “maaaaatttttttt!” i whined. “enough!” matt gritted his teeth. my eyes rolled into the back of my head, i was too overstimulated. my body was in so much pleasure.

matt began sucking on my soft pink nipples, slowly and softly, torturing me, going softly on purpose.

he made his way down to my soaking core, that was practically begging for him.

his middle finger coated in my juices as he pounded it into me. all i wanted was to grab him, which i couldn’t do.

“your so pretty baby,” “looking like this for me,” he positioned himself inbetween my thighs. he gave me a sweet innocent smile as he slowly ran his tongue between my folds making me scream. “i can’t do it.” i cried. the pleasure was too much, making my eyes water. “look at you,” matt pulled away from me. my juices all over his mouth and chin. “your such a mess already and i’m not even inside you.” he pulled my clit into his mouth.

matt kept my hands tied as he thrusted inside me.

he grabbed my legs and put them on his shoulders, so he could get deeper inside me. we were both a moaning mess.

i came. matt came.

“fucking ride me.” matt undid the tie around my hands and flipped me over.

i did as i was told. i rode matt like the good girl i was for him. he grabbed onto my hips and pushed me deeper inside making me lose control of the pace i was in.

less than 24 hours later.

“i know right?” tuckers hand wrapped around my waist.

matt was sending him daggers from across the room, he wasn’t staring at me. he hadn’t looked at me all night.

“thanks for the ride matt!” tucker shook matt’s hand. “of course bro,” matt mumbled.

“you coming?” tucker asked. “i left my lip liner somewhere in here, i’ll meet you inside okay?” i lied straight through my teeth. “okay, don’t be too long.” he winked which made my stomach churn.

tucker was now no longer to be seen. matt pulled me towards him. “your my dirty little secret baby, not him,” “are you gonna fuck him tonight?” he grabbed my face. i shook my head. “even if i did, i would think of you,” i gave him the most innocent look possible. “of course you would,” “enjoy your come-less sex baby, i’ll see you on friday.” he pressed a rough kiss against my lips.

i backed away and he let go of my face. i whimpered. “what’s wrong?” he titled his head.

i looked down at my skirt that was rising at my thighs. “that’s it,” “your mine now tell him to fuck off.” he kissed me hard and grabbed my waist.

sorry about it being short! i love you <333

[adventuringblind]

Caught in a Lie

Maxiel x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.

Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace

Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!

Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.

Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.

She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.

She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.

The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.

Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.

Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.

It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.

Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.

Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.

Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.

"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."

"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."

She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.

Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.

"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.

Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.

Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"

Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.

None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.

Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"

And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"

She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.

Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”

She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.

The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.

Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.

“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.

Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”

“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.

“What are your colors, baby girl?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”

“Good, what’s your color?”

“Green.”

She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.

The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.

The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.

Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.

She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.

"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.

"Color baby?"

"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.

The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"

Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.

"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."

"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."

Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.

She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.

She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.

"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.

Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, color?"

Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.

"Green."

Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”

“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.

Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.

She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.

Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.

Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.

The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.

Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.

"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.

He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.

Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.

Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.

He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"

Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."

"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.

Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.

She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.

She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.

It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.

It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.

She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.

Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.

Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.

Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.

Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.

Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.

She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.

"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.

"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.

"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."

Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."

That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.

Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.

[atimeofyourlife]

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! can I please request an Older! Eddie Munson x Hargrove! reader, maybe they're neighbors and they hate each other, Eddie gets tired of of "the Hargrove kid" (reader) always doing parties, he tried to talk with Billy, Reader's dad, but he didn't thought his daughter would be like that, so Eddie talks with reader again, so they end up making out (maybe you could add smut) p.s I think I sent you this request before, but I don't remember!

Older Eddie 🫶🏻🫶🏻 I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting

⚠️ smutty

Weekend nights

Eddie groaned as the loud music woke him up from his sleep. He opened his eyes and glared toward his alarm clock, he sighed. Another Friday night rest was interrupted by his neighbor.

He reached over for his landline and dialed his neighbor, it rang and rang. Then sent him to voicemail. He rolled his eyes as his call remained ignored by the loud party going on. He slipped on a shirt and walked over to his window. Not to his surprise, the yard was covered in young kids.

Eddie had been dealing with his neighbor every weekend for the past month, and he was tired of it.

Eddie and Y/N weren't friends, and not even close to being friendly neighbors. Y/N got on Eddie's nerves. The way she purposely drove him crazy then batted her eyelashes and faked innocence. She crashed her car into his garbage bins and refused to take the blame. On Halloween she egged his house, only to send him a kiss when he marched out the door. She was a pain in his ass.

~~

Sunday morning arrived and Eddie pounded on the Hargrove's door. He came face to face with Billy. The annoyed look made Eddie think twice.

"You have any idea what time it is Munson?" Billy growled, his strong arms crossed and Eddie tried not to back down.

"Do you have any idea what time your daughter's parties go until? It's been a month since of her waking me up at two am because she refuses to turn down the music. I've called, I've crashed the party, and she has no respect!" Eddie ranted.

"Are you at my door and excusing my daughter of throwing wild parties when I'm not home?" Billy glared, unaware Y/N was coming down the stairs. Her eyes caught Eddie, and she smirked. She yanked down her little tank top, allowing her breasts to pop through.

Eddie bit his lip as he tried to hold in his annoyance. She always played mind games.

"Why would I lie?" Eddie fought back, his attention back on Billy.

"My daughter is a good girl, and she has respect. Get off my porch." Eddie sighed as the door slammed in his face, but still caught the wink Y/N sent.

~~

It was Friday night once again, and Eddie pulled into his driveway. He was tired from work and needed uninterrupted sleep. He walked towards the Hargrove's house and pounded on the door.

"Mr. Munson, how can I help you?" Y/N flirted, her body leaning towards him as she smirked. She would never deny it, if anyone asked her she'd admit how hot she thought Eddie was. And the countess times she thought about him late at night. Eddie marched in the house and Y/N closed the door behind them.

"Oh stop the act," Eddie sneered, "tonight I want silence. No party, no friends, nothing. I want to sleep through the night without your games. I am done with the disrespect."

Y/N couldn't help but clench her thighs as Eddie scolded her. The older man always had her attention and she loved pestering him. She loved that heat and anger in his eyes.

"Oh? And I'm supposed to just obey? It's not like you're my daddy." She pouted, batting her eyelashes. Eddie hated to admit the nickname made him shiver.

"You drive me insane." Eddie groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face. Not noticing Y/N inched closer.

"Maybe I want to drive you insane," She whispered, he jumped when he felt her cold hands slide down his chest. He dropped his hands, moving to move her hands but caught himself not wanting to.

She turned her head to the side and looped her fingers through his belt loops.

"Why?" he whispered back, licking his lips as he looked down at hers.

"Because I want you to fuck me, Munson. Use that aged brain of yours."

She gasped when Eddie dug in hand in her hair, a soft yet harsh tug. "Watch your mouth, young lady." He threatened.

"Yes, sir." She moaned, she swore her mouth was watering at how close his mouth was to hers.

"Why didn't you use your big girl words to ask me? Why pester me and drive me insane?" He asked, his other hand lifted up her chin. He smirked at how easily she turned into a puddle in his hands.

"More fun this way." She tried to laugh but his lips were on hers before she could think. She moaned into his mouth and hungrily gripped at his body. He felt so hard yet soft underneath his dirty white tank top.

"Fun indeed," he teased against her lips as he pulled away.

"What if I fuck you every weekend and you don't throw parties?" He asked, his hand slipping into her pants, he pushed her underwear aside and began to finger her tight cunt.

She panted as she tried to think of words. Sounded like the perfect deal in her head. His fingers felt like a blessing inside of her, and his tongue in her mouth set her on fire.

"Deal" she moaned as she began to ride his fingers.

"Daddy's good girl my ass." Eddie snickered.

Eddie didn't dread the weekends anymore....

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

[alocon]

Still Irresistible [2] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, part 2 to the story released the other day.

[Part One Here] [Part Three Here] [Part Four Here] [Masterlist]

Irresistible - LN⁴ x Fem!Reader

"Lando Norris"

You two had never broken apart as quickly as you did just then. The pair of you had been in your kitchen, cooking together for the arrival of P and Max. You had forgotten that he had a key. He quickly placed another kiss on your lips before stepping back, sitting on the counter beside you just in time for your brother to walk in.

"Hello, beautiful," P said, walking over to you to place a kiss on your cheek. You greeted her back, returning the gesture.

You and Lando had, expertly, invited the pair for dinner. They didn't know that you and Lando were together. I mean, God. Max would surely kill you for it. Which is exactly why this wasn't a double date. It was simply two roommates, one roommates brother and the brother's girlfriend having dinner.

It wouldn't be the first double date that you two had. You had also had some with Alex and Lily, as those two had witnessed your first kiss at the club 8 months prior and had a few with Oscar and Lily, who had only found out about you because Lando accidentally slipped up when he was speaking. Other than that, though, no one knew. You travelled to a lot of his races with him, so, of course, there were rumours about the two of you. However, Max was not suspicious as that had happened since he started driving in Formula One. It was how the sport went. Racing on Friday-Sunday, Rumours from Monday-Wednesday, Answering those rumours on Thursday. It was just part of the sport.

The group of you began to discuss how you had been, how things had been going. You all stood in the kitchen talking so that you could cook and still be involved. "What about you, Lan? Have you found someone yet, mate?"

Almost as if it was rehearsed (it was), Lando began to use his excuse. You both had agreed that, had this question came up, you would say you weren't, and he could choose on the day. "There's someone I'm interested in. She's great. We've talked, but I haven't taken her out on a proper date yet." You smiled as you stirred the pot of pasta. Smart, you thought. Technically, it's not a lie. He hadn't taken you out on an official date, just you two, but you had been on double dates, and you had also had many dates in the house. And when you went out in public together, it wasn't considered an official date, so no one was suspicious. Didn't mean you both didn't consider them dates.

"That's great, mate. It's about time you got yourself out there. I swear, since we were little, it was always 'yeah there's someone I like but we can't be together', I had started thinking that you might love my sister." Max let out a chuckle as you thanked God that you were facing away from him as you listened in, more intrigued. You decided to start teasing Lando.

"Awwe. Used to have a little crush on me, did you?"

Lando picked up on the usual jokey-flirting and decided to hit back. "Nope. Can't stand you."

"Yeah, yeah, that's why you used to get super nervous talking to me when we were 13." You turned to him, watching as his face flushed slightly red out of being called out. He was only able to mumble a 'shut up' in response, making you and Max laugh.

"Doesn't surprise me, I was amazing and very funny and beautiful growing up."

"Still are. Except for the beautiful part," He quickly added the last part onto his sentence as he spoke too quickly for that to be considered friendly. Max eyed him before turning away. You began to plate up the pasta and sent Max off to go set the table, P opting to follow him. "That was close," Lando whispered to you, causing you to wack him gently.

"God, Lan. Watch what you say," you responded, placing your hand on his face to pull him in for a quick kiss. That kiss turned into a longer one, though, as he clearly didn't want to break away from it.

"Right. Make yourself useful." You said, pulling away before they could get caught. You passed him two plates. "Go take these out please. This one is P's, this one is Max's."

"Yes ma'am. Do I get paid with another kiss?"

You rolled your eyes, placing another peck to his lips before he grinned, heading out of the room with the plates.

You grabbed the other two, following suit and placing them on the table. "Right, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to run some food over to Martine."

"Alright, tell her I say hi," Lando responded as you went to the kitchen.

A look of confusion appeared on Max's face. "Who's Martine?"

"Our neighbour. She's 60, and she's been struggling a lot recently because her husband passed last month, so we've been taking her food and inviting her over for dinner so she isn't lonely."

"Aw, that's lovely!" P said, smiling as the door shut.

You stepped across the hallway, knocking the door of your neighbour opposite. After a few minutes, she answered. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good, how are you doing? We have some extra food, so I wanted to bring it over for you." You passed her the tub of food, and she smiled gratefully.

"Oh, thank you, dear. I'm feeling a little better than yesterday. It's getting easier day by day, you know?"

You nodded in response, accepting the hug she offered you. "Would you like to come over for dinner again on Friday? Like we have been doing the past few weeks?"

"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much bother?"

"Not at all. I would've invited you over today, but my brother and his girlfriend are over for dinner, and I remember you saying that big groups got a little overwhelming for you."

"Ah right, having a double date, are you?"

You shook your head. "No, my brother doesn't know about Lando and I. Lando says hi by the way."

"Oh, do tell him I say hi back. How come your brother doesn't know? Haven't you been together for 8 months now?"

You grinned cheekily in response to her question. She was such an angel. You absolutely loved Martine. She was hands down the sweetest neighbour you had. "Lando was Max's best friend before he was my boyfriend, so Max would be a little upset if he found out."

"Oh, right. Well, you can't decide who you fall in love with, darling." You heard a door open behind you. "Love is something you can't really control. If you feel like someone is really, really right for you, he probably is, you know?"

You froze when you heard a voice behind you. "Uh. Sorry, who are you in love with?"

Martine turned to your brother. "Oh, hello, you must be the brother. I've heard a lot about you. Don't mind our conversation, dear. I was just telling her about my daughter and her new boyfriend. I'm Martine."

'Martine, you legend,' you thought as she smiled sweetly and innocently.

"Oh right, I'm Max." He shook her hand before looking at you. "Where's the red wine?" You turned to see Lando poking his head around the door too, shooting you a wink.

"Top cupboard, right at the back. I had to put it back there because someone..." You paused to dramatically look at Lando. "Smashed up the last bottle we had."

"It was an accident."

"Yep. And now I have to Lando-proof everything." You turned to Martine. "Right, Martine. I'll leave you, your daughter and her boyfriend, be. Do tell them I say hi."

"Of course, dear. It was lovely to see you, as always. See you Friday."

You three headed back inside, Max heading to grab the wine.

Sitting at the table, you and P waited patiently for the return of Max and Lando. You made friendly conversation, as always. You two always got along quite well. P looked around for any signs of the boys before leaning towards you. "So... Anyone you're interested in?"

You looked at the woman. She knew something. You sighed, shrugging. "There is someone I am interested in. Please don't tell Max though, we both know he'll get all protective twin about this."

She nodded. "Do I get to know who? Because I could take a few guesses."

You shook your head. "Maybe some other time when people can't listen in."

She understood, luckily, and it was only a few moments until the boys reappeared, laughing away as they carried the wine glasses in. Lando sat beside you, gently giving your hand a quick squeeze under the table.

Dinner went normally, you all talked and messed about, the usual. You then all retreated to the living room to play some games.

"Oh fuck you!" Max wasn't happy as you crossed the line once again to take first place, having barely overtaken him just before the end due to an ability you had saved. "You cheated!"

"You can't cheat in Mario Kart, Max. Stop bitching because I'm better."

"Right," Lando spoke up before they could continue arguing. "Bed time, I think. What do you think?" The other 3 of you nodded in agreement. Max and P would be staying over so Lando had given up his room, stating that he was more than happy to sleep on the pull out sofa bed in your room.

You were laid down on your bed as Lando locked the door, Max and P having already retreated to Lando's room and P having already fallen asleep. Lando was the last to come to bed. He took his shirt off, placing it on your chair before removing his jeans so he was only in boxers. He slid into bed beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him. He let out a soft, content noise as you cuddled up closer to him. "I've missed doing this."

"Lan, it's only been a few hours," you noted as one of his hands ran up to play with your hair.

"A few hours too long, being away from you sucks so bad."

"What are you going to do when you go off to races, then?"

"I don't know." He looked down at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. "You could always come with me."

You looked up to meet his eyes. "To which ones?"

"All of them." He paused, taking some time to admire your face, to watch the way to smiled softly. "Every. Single. One." He placed kisses to your lips between each word before placing his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

"Okay."

"Okay? You will come to more races with me?" His eyes lit up as he thought of all the time you could spend cuddling after his races.

"Lando." You stopped speaking a second, your hand moving to the side of his face, thumb gently moving over his cheek. "I would go anywhere that you asked me to."

He pulled you into another hug, his head on top of yours, squeezing you tight, not wanting to let go. He whispered a few I love you's to you, placing kisses all over your face as he spoke. He then placed another to your lips, a longer one than previous. One full of love, adoration. One that made you feel that you two were the only people in the world. One that made you feel like nothing else ever mattered. One that showed you that, no matter what Max thinks when he finds out about your relationship, it really doesn't matter. As long as he had you, everything was perfect and how it should be. You balanced him, you showed him the love that he always dreamt of being shown. You showed him what adoring someone truly felt like. And he found you irresistible. He would always find you irresistible.

-The End-

[Word Count - 2,012]

Hi All,

Another part to the Lando Norris "Irresistible" story because I thought the first part could do with a part two. Hope you are all well, as always, have a lovely day x

Alocon

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?” you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

[ivycjl]

Epiphany - Part Four

Hello!! Fourth and final part! I've had so much fun writing this; thank you all for reading! My requests are open! I would love to get them if you're all interested. I'll shut up now:

The next few days are hell. Benny doesn't try to talk to you, and you don't try to talk to him. Every time you accidentally run into each other at home makes you cringe.

You can tell you've made him upset, but what are you supposed to do? Finally, Friday comes.

He speaks to you for the first time since Sunday, avoiding your gaze and asking if you want to go to the meeting.

Your reply is a quiet ‘yeah’. The ride over is awkward as hell, and when you get to the bar, you both jump off the bike and walk away as quickly as possible.

Corky and Zipco notice and bring it up to Benny when he walks over. “What was that?” Corky laughs.

“What?” Benny glares. Corky and Zipco share a look before Zip says, “You and the Mrs. It was like watching 13 year olds-”

“None of your god dammed business, that's what,” Benny snaps before entering the bar alone.

That was a mistake. As soon as he walks in, he's greeted with the sight of you laughing and smiling like nothing is wrong. Fuck that shit, because why don't you look at him like that anymore? Like you still love him. Like you want him. Maybe you found someone new. Benny buys a beer and sits in the corner alone, stewing in his thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Benny sits in the same spot, drinking, watching. He can't take it anymore. You don't smile at him, kiss him, touch him, laugh with him for weeks, and as soon as you get to this fuckin’ meeting you act like your regular old self. This is the first time he's seen you act remotely happy to be alive in God knows how long, and when it's time to go home you'll just go right back into your shell. Benny’s done. He takes a final sip of his beer and storms out of the bar, slamming the door on his way out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Johnny’s been noticing something goin’ on between you two. It started out pretty mild, but now you're full blown ignoring Benny. Won't even look at him. Didn't notice when his gaze finally tore away from the back of your head and he stormed out the bar. So Johnny goes over to you. You're sittin’ with Betty, laughing with a Coke in your hand.

“Hey!” You greet him with a smile.

“Hey…did you just see Benny leave?” At the mention of Benny, your face falls, but as quick as it changed the first time, you switch your expression to apathetic. “No,” you shrug.

Johnny’s confused. You've never been so short with him before. “Ain't he your ride?” At the mention of this, you turn to Betty.

“Betty, you came in your car, right?”

His wife nods uneasily.

“Do you mind taking me home?”

Betty and Johnny exchange a glance. “Uh, sure hon.”

You turn back to Johnny and shrug. I don't care.

Hm.

Later that night as Johnny’s laying in bed with his wife, he decides to bring up the incident from today.

“Ay, Betty, you notice anything about Benny and Y/N?”

She scoffs. “Jeez, ‘have I noticed anything’, yeah, apparently I notice a lot more than you do.”

Johnny shakes his head. “Like what?”

“Oh God, I don't know. I haven't seen ‘em sit next to each other, let alone talk. And God forbid Benny make eye contact with Y/N or else her whole night is ruined,” Betty rolls her eyes.

Johnny mulls over this for a moment. “Why’d’a think that is?”

Betty sighs. “She's probably sick of all his shit. I don't know. They might’a fought and she just decided she didn't want to deal with him anymore. Who knows. Or cares. Just make it end.”

Johnny nods. “Get the light, will ya?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Benny, surprisingly, finds himself at home. After driving to another bar, getting shitfaced, and beating the hell out of some guy, he's just there, sitting on his living room couch.

For the first time in his life, aimlessly roaming the world on his bike didn't make him feel better. So he just sits on the couch and waits for you to come home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You silently open your front door and enter your house. It was about 12:30 before Betty decided to go home, which was the perfect time for you to return home and count on Benny to be out or in bed. It hurt to be so far away from your husband, but you would rather deal with this than constant fighting or his cruel dismissal. At least, this way, there was nothing to hurt you but yourself. You start to hang up your jacket when his voice stops you.

“Hey, baby.” Baby. Fuck you. You can't show me affection until you don't get any?

“Oh. Hi.”

You hear him suck in a breath. “How’d you get home? Betty?”

You hang up your jacket and nod. “Yeah.”

You brush past him to set your purse down on the counter, and when you turn around, he pulls your bodies together by your waist. You gasp. He hasn't been this close to you in 2 months. Benny moves one hand to your face, tilting it up to look at him.

You had almost forgotten how pretty he was, you realize as he smiles down at you. You sober up quick as soon as Benny tries to rest his forehead on your own. You sharply pull away to see his hurt face. Oh God. He must be plastered.

Benny starts shaking his head like a child. “No. No, no, no.” He takes heavy breaths. “What the fuck is going on with you? Why don't you want me anymore? Why?”

As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back. He can see your face contorting in pain, feel you breaking out of his hold and taking a step back. “Um,” your voice trembles. Benny instinctively steps closer to you, wanting to comfort, but you just walk backwards faster and faster until you hit the stairs. “Goodnight, Benny.”

“No.”

You swallow. “What?”

“No, I said no. We're not doin’ this again. You can't keep leavin’ me alone.”

You laugh. “Me, leave you alone?”

The alcohol was not letting you hold back. You feel a fight coming on, so you turn around to start walking up the stairs. But Benny grabs you again, pulling you back towards him by the wrist.

“And what is that supposed to mean? You've been avoiding me for 2 months.”

“Oh, that must really suck when you want to talk to me or spend time with me and I barely engage with you! I'm so sorry you have to beg me for attention!”

Your hand flies to your mouth. That was definitely something you were not supposed to say.

“Is that…is that why you've been doin’ all this? Giving me the silent treatment?”

You nervously nod your head, glaring at the floor. “Because you felt like I wasn't spending enough time with you?”

God, he makes you feel stupid. “No! Because you're treating me like some shitty roommate and not your wife that you're supposed to love. Because every day you spend so much time out of this house it makes me wonder if there's someone else you’d rather be married to instead!”

He pauses before responding in a low tone.

“I would never do that.”

“Do what?”

“Cheat.”

You take a deep breath. Good to know he's got some integrity left. “Hm.”

“I'm sorry.”

“That’s not even close to fixing this, Benny.”

He nods his head. “I know.”

You look back up at his eyes. “But I am.”

All you want to do is sink into his chest and burst into tears. Let him hold you. You only let the tears part happen.

“Why don't you want to be around me?” you sob. You sound so pathetic.

“I do. I do. I'm sorry,” Benny says as he pulls you into his chest. You don't try to fight him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, dropping his lips to your head. You both allow yourselves to take a deep breath. Calm.

“I do love you.”

“You mean it?” you sniff.

He nods as he presses a kiss to your head. “Yeah.”

“I'm sorry I didn't show it.”

You sigh. “I'm sorry for doing what I did. I'm just so tired of fighting all the time. I just thought, y’know, I would do anything to not fight with him again, and-I don't know. I'm stupid.”

He shook his head. “You're not stupid.”

This is exactly what you hate and love about Benny. He could be God awful and rude and difficult, but then in that exact moment you need him to be, he's perfect. Whether he knows it or not.

“You…didn't find nobody else either, did you?”

“What? Oh, no. God no.”

Benny breathes out, relieved. “I guess we're in tune with each other somehow,” you say.

He shakes his head. “I guess.”

There's a nice moment of silence before you say, “Why don't we go up to bed?”

“Together?”

You take his hand. “Together.”

You unfold yourself from his hold, leading him up the stairs. Once in the room, you slip into a pajama set and crawl into bed. Benny had already stripped off his shirt, and for a second he just stands there looking at you.

“You gonna come here?”

Benny says nothing; just gets under the covers and pulls you into him again. And for the first time in 2 months you think that maybe it's going to be okay.

Thank you for reading! Requests are open! Also sorry I missed some of your requests to tag 😭 Here are all the ones I've seen:

@imusicaddict

@wallacewillow0773638

@behindmygreyeyes

[writingshushf1]

Does your mother know?

Summary: "Now you're so cute, I like your style And I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile"

When a new Ferrari driver crosses paths with the one and only Sebastian Vettel.

Rating: +18

Warnings: shameless smut, age gap, grief/mourning, slight mdom vibes, y/n being a brat, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Word count: 4.8k

Note: more filthy fiction w/ seb! they have a 8/10 year age gap, if that bothers you- don’t read! 

masterlist

There's that look in your eyes I can read in your face that your feelings are driving you wild Ah, but girl, you're only a child

You were the new Ferrari driver. That was amazing, you weren't the first AFAB racing, yet the only one to get in a position as high as that, in a top team. Charles Leclerc was your teammate and you knew him before, you were good friends, you often went out with him and his younger brother, who was closer to your age. The pre-season tests in Bahrain happened, but you didn't talk to the other drivers, more out of insecurity and fear of someone judging you, you preferred to stay in your corner, studying about the car and its possibilities.

Thursday and the day went very well, just press conference day. You saw some drivers, said hello and introduced yourself, but nothing too big, because the focus was different.

Friday was the day. Free practice to test how ready the car was for your style of racing. You arrived early and had lunch alone at the Ferrari hospitality, waiting for the weather to get milder so you could do the paddock walk. When you decided to go, you found Sebastian Vettel doing the same, alone; as soon as he saw you, he started to slow down to keep the same pace. Initially, you preferred to stay silent, you didn't want to bother him anyway - and as you consider yourself an annoying person in general, it would be better to keep your mouth shut anyway. He probably noticed your insecurity-and in a way, fear-of starting a conversation, so he decided to start it.

"Welcome to Formula 1." He smiled and you couldn't deny it, he had his charm. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I hope it was only the good stuff."

"Of course, the newest Scuderia Ferrari driver, who has had an impressive year in Formula 2 and clearly a great contender to take the lead away from the Red Bulls. As well as being the youngest female driver to win that position."

"I'm not that young."

"But you're younger than me, that's for sure." He chuckled low, patting her on the shoulder twice.

"Like you're that old."

"Death is already knocking on my door." You couldn't hold back your laugh and he discreetly paid attention to your reaction, smiling. "Anyway, how are your expectations for the weekend?"

"Great. I hope... Actually, I will get on the podium on Sunday."

"Ambitious, that's what I find amazing about you younger drivers."

"Like you were not the same in your Red Bull days."

"So I've got a fan?" The suggestive tone in Sebastian's voice at that moment didn't arouse anything in you, in your opinion, he was just joining in the fun.

"How could I not? I always saw you as a role model. Especially with your more recent community work.... In fact, if you need someone one day, I'm a person who has a pretty free schedule."

"I'd love to. Mick usually joins me too. Have you met him? You two would become good friends."

"He was from the Ferrari academy, obviously! It's years since I've seen him properly."

You may have understood a pretext that he wanted to set you up with the younger Schumacher, but preferred to ignore - well, that wasn’t actually the case for the moment, he just treated the younger boy as one of his kids. You said your goodbyes, as soon began what you had been waiting for all day.

Practice had been great, the car was living up to your expectations, so the podium you were counting on would come out on Sunday and you could prove to everyone who doubted your ability that yes, you deserved to be among the best. You were radiant, the team director even asked if there was something wrong, since most of the time you remained serious, without smiles and ready to kill someone if necessary; it was as if you could be who you always wanted to be, it was a hard way and the criticism would never stop, but nothing could take away what you were feeling. Going back to your motorhome - since you preferred to spend the weekend there and not in a decent hotel - you saw Vettel walking with his head down, taking his bike and leaving; you thought about saying hello, but he didn't seem to be in a good mood and maybe he wanted to be without anyone in his ears babbling about random things

Meanwhile, on the way back to the hotel, the German's mind could only think of one thing: Ferrari's new driver. Sebastian was conflicted by the conversation with you during the walk, it was strange for him, seeing such a beautiful person and feeling that buzz in his stomach, something he hadn't felt for months. Since Hanna died , he had completely shut down; just thinking about her brought tears to his eyes, because it was hard to live alone after spending since your teenage years by the side of someone you loved, a person who built a family - that now, he juggled between leaving the kids with her family and yours, trying to see them whenever you had a break from racing and that action made you feel guilty, of them not having their father there when they needed him the most. The grief had consumed his body, the first months the only thing that got him out of bed were the race weekends, but with each defeat, his mind weighed more and more; months later, he finally decided to start therapy, he needed to be getting better mentally, he couldn't stay in this situation forever, for the kids, for the team and for everyone that counted on him; and it helped a little, the depression was easier to deal with, the days were lighter, even though the feeling was there. Even though the beaming smile was back around the Paddock and his volunteering to help the environment was back in full swing, it still wasn't enough to make him optimistic about living, even though two years had passed since the whole tragedy and sometimes Hanna's voice came in his head, telling him to move on. For that reason, seeing you walking beside him, smiling and being interested left him with this strange feeling, of a piece of the puzzle finally being found again. He quickly cleared that thought away, it wasn't what he was thinking at all, it was just a happiness to see a person like you on the track - and even if it was a little flare of romance, you were too young for him.

This grief stage wasn’t over, of course, even though he was in the last step: acceptance, although it still hurt deep in his heart and because of it, for a while he hadn’t made the best decisions for his life, however, that stayed only with him. Vettel didn’t open up about it with anyone for a while, friends would come and talk to him, but they only received nods and “I’m fine” type of responses, until the first anniversary of her death, during a Saturday post qualy, where he broke down during an interview and Mick took him back to his driver’s room, on that afternoon he blurted all his feelings out, all the shit he had done during this period, only for two people, Mick and Lewis. Nowadays, he still wasn’t 100% back on his feet again, however, he was trying his best and maybe, the new rookie had something to do with this new motivation.

…..................................................

Your first race was a success, as hard as it was, p3 came with a taste of victory. That night you chose not to go out and celebrate, you were too tired, because something they didn't tell you before was how the car would suck your energy - it was different to what you were used to in Formula 2.

The weeks and your next races were going well, lots of podiums and scoring zones, but still no wins. The situation of not having any wins yet was driving you crazy, no matter how flawless your performance was, the media was starting to get on your nerves with harsh criticism and you hated to admit it, but it annoyed you having to listen to this negativity while other drivers with cars with equal or better machinery than yours who are still winless were getting nothing but praise. The highlight of the week was on Saturday, after an accident during qualifying, you were in Q3 and ready to take your first pole position, but due to Norris braking hard during an 'S' corner in front of you, there was no time to slow down, your car hit the back of the number 4 McLaren, bringing both of them off track and subsequently causing your current times to be deleted and a red flag. You were angry with him and were ready to cuss him out, however after a rather lengthy conversation while your cars returned to the pits, he acknowledged his mistake and you worked it out; even though he admitted it in the post qualifying interviews, there were still allegations and questions about the possible crash being your fault, which made you so angry that he ended the interviews earlier than the others.

On Sunday, even if you started P9, you would do your best to win at Imola, it was a question of honour. You changed strategies with your team, talked to everyone and tried to be as assertive as possible, you knew that they had the ability to make this win happen. Nervousness was running inside you, it seemed that the world would end as soon as the lights turned off. The race was fine, already at the start you had already got p5, the tyre changes were in the time that you had stipulated with the team of what would be better and could hold the others until the end. In the last two laps you were less than a second behind first place, which at the moment was Max, and you wouldn't hesitate to pass him no matter what. Seconds before you crossed the win line, you accelerated the car harder than before, hearing the engine squelching, however it wasn't the moment to stop, not until you passed him; that's what happened, seeing the chequered flag in front of everyone else.

"P1, you are p1." Your response was just to shout back, he was very happy and didn't know what to say.

"P1 piccolina ! You did it." You heard your engineer say on the radio.

"And Charles?" Your voice was still euphoric, you wanted to know where your teammate was standing too.

“P3.”

The interviewers this time were kinder, with several people stopping you and congratulating you on the flawless race you had run. This time you deserved quite a party.

In these weeks you got closer to Vettel, he became a great friend and mentor. You admired him a lot, because he was always a great example and to be able to call him a friend was a privilege, so you didn't hesitate to go and bother him after the race, knocking on the door of his motor home - you knew that he hadn't gone back to the hotel yet, as he always warned you and offered you company on the way back.

"What's up?" his tone of voice was not the most welcoming, maybe he wanted to be alone, however the moment he opened the door and saw it was you, his expression lightened. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

"Um... So, I won the race..."

"I know... I gave you a hug right after." He cracked a smile, a little confused by the situation.

"Me and a few other drivers... Almost all of them actually, we're going out tonight, it's a nightclub.... I know it's not your style, but it's a celebration and I'd love for you to go." Your face was turning red, it was such a simple request, but you wanted to hide because of sudden shyness. "We reserved some tables near the smaller dance floor, because not everyone is a fan of dancing."

"Do I really need to?" He whined, grimacing and leaning against the stopper.

"Please... Make that sacrifice for me." You gave him the puppy dog look.

He looked at you for a few seconds, wondering whether or not it was really worth it to hang out with several young pilots in a nightclub. "Okay. For you, I'll go." He snapped, sighing loudly, and you gave the German a hug, squealing loudly.

"I'll give you the address! Wear something cool and that doesn't make you look like a middle-aged school teacher."

"Hey! That's an insult against my style."

It was almost 10 o'clock at night, you had just put on your high heels, finally ready; Charles was texting you five times a second, telling you to hurry or he would go alone and you would miss your ride.

When you arrived at the nightclub, you went quickly to the group where the other pilots were, greeting them and drinking your first shot of tequila to open the night properly. Half an hour later, from far away you saw curly blond hair entering the place and at the same moment you knew who it was: Sebastian; he arrived shyly, saying hello to everyone, getting close to you, who gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. You noticed that he took your advice about the outfit, this time wearing light brown jeans, a white tank top with a larger dark green short-sleeved button-up shirt and some black sneakers, but what took your breath away was his hair up in a loose bun with a few strands falling off. Maybe you checked him vigorously, but you could blame the alcohol.

"You're not sober." He commented, discreetly checking your look.

"And you won't be either," And then you handed him a bottle of beer - because you knew he liked it.

Sebastian felt guilty that he was checking your body every five minutes, a conscious voice in his head screamed that you were too young for him, too innocent - I mean, not so innocent, but that made him even more curious. His thoughts were dissipated when he saw you turning a shot of some coloured liquid, paying more attention on what you were going to do or react, his protective instinct was above the desire of wanting you; he didn't comment anything, just watched, disassociating a little bit of reality, having again that little voice that he didn't fit with the others there, that he was too old for this generation.

A few more shots and drinks in, your body already felt lighter. You were chatting with Gasly and Ricciardo, until they came up with the idea of everyone hitting the dance floor - even if most of them weren't the best dancers or didn’t like to, however, when all of them are at least tipsy, they don’t even think before abandoning the tables to go. Vettel hesitated to go with them, so you patted Daniel on the back and said you would be dancing in a few minutes.

“Hey… Don’t you wanna go with us?” You put your hand on his shoulder, looking at him.

“I don’t feel like dancing.” He didn’t look back at you, something was wrong.

“Is something bothering you? You can go if you’re not feeling good here.” Maybe it was the drunk you, but you placed your hand in his neck, making him look at you. “I’m not gonna be upset if you leave. We talked, drinked and it’s okay if you want to go.”

He was hesitating, he didn't know whether to leave or stay there, moments like that were hard; Sebastian was never someone so social, of course in his Red Bull years he partied a lot, but it was never his favourite thing to do. The German looked around and then deposited his eyes on you, still conflicted with all his thoughts running through his head. His biggest dilemma at the moment was about the Ferrari driver, whether he would stay for her, dance along and have fun, finally let go and be able to live a little, move on, on the other hand, this feeling of leaving the past behind was overwhelming. He stood for a few more seconds thinking, while you waited; "what could possibly go wrong?", "what am I being so afraid of?", "why couldn't I make out a little?" , then he sighed low, grabbed another bottle of beer and cracked a smile.

"Let's go to the dance floor." He held her hand. "I can't keep living like this."

"Like what?" Tu asked, not sure what exactly he was talking about.

"Grieving." You didn't know how to answer, for a moment you had forgotten he was a widower, so you just guided him into the huddle of people, squeezing his hand.

You started to dance, letting your body free, it was nice to be able to move to the beat without someone being able to judge you. Daniel came over with two shots of vodka for you, you drank them both quickly and giggled quietly, watching him do the same. This time, the drink hit a little harder, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more and more. As a result, your movements were dirtier, rolling your hips on your own while your friends were glued to unknown girls or dancing shamefully while drinking. Meanwhile Vettel was trying to dance with the younger drivers, but he felt out of place, he wasn't as young as them anymore, so after a while he started to walk past people to walk back to the table, but he caught your eye first.

"Stay dancing here with me." You held his arm, pulling him closer.

"Are you sure? Because… I can see what you want, but you seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun… So maybe I'm not the one to be dancing, call Mick or Charles.

“Stop with this no sense!” You blurted the words, laughing. “Just follow the rhythm, look."

Chloe's song 'Have mercy' started playing and you cracked a smile, starting to move your body slowly, maybe you weren't noticing, but it was in a sexy way that turned Sebastian red, looking sideways until you put your arms around his neck, catching his attention.

"Keep moving with me." He placed his hands on your waist, slowly getting more into the rhythm.

You both forgot about the world around you, dancing just for each other, with your bodies glued together and embarrassed smiles as you tried to keep in rhythm until the song ended. He pulled away a little, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. “Montero” by Lil Nas X started playing and you cracked a big smile, turning your back to him and letting the older pilot's hands on your waist, rolling your hips against him. It took a few instants before he understood and got into the rhythm, loosening up and starting to have fun with you.

“Does your mother know you dance to older men like that?” He whispered, travelling his hands around your body.

What had happened after, was that you had spent it together, drinking even more and dancing more overtly, which the others noticed-especially Daniel and Charles, who were closer to you, but they would let the matter die. The point of leaving was when the blonde was really wanting to kiss you, but the last shred of notion he had showed.

"Let's go to the hotel." He muttered, with his accent stronger than usual.

You didn't even say goodbye to anyone, you just hailed a taxi and went to his hotel, arriving there and making sure no one saw you together. When you entered the room, he quickly locked the door and came close to you, passing his hands around your waist.

"I hope I didn't get the wrong signals." He then brought your face closer against his, initiating a sloppy kiss that you reciprocated at the same moment, slipping your arms around his shoulders and your hands stopping at his neck, caressing the spot. His tongue was already going against yours in a desperate rhythm, like he waited all night to be with you; when you broke it off to breathe, you looked at him, worried.

“Is it okay? To be kissing… I know you…” You started, but he put his finger on your lips.

“It’s okay… Let’s focus on us.”

So you kissed him again, this time with more urgency than before, allowing yourself to run your hands down his back, gripping the fabric of his button-down shirt. He broke the kiss this time, looking into your face for a few seconds, admiring you, before he started trailing kisses from the back of your ear to the collar of your dress, sucking and licking a few specific spots, which made you whimper with pleasure.

"Can I continue?" He asked as he touched the zip of your dress.

"You don't have to be so gentle, Seb."

"But you deserve it."

"And I say... You can be rough with me, I know you like it." You cracked a smile, disentangling yourself from him and sitting on the bed.

He looked at her for a few seconds, biting his lower lip before he started to move closer, standing between your legs.

“Oh… Since you like to be dominated…” His face got closer to yours where you could smell his breath, but didn’t kiss you. “Strip for me. Now.” He backed off, crossing his arms.

So this was a game and you would follow his rules, with a little bit of a twist. Slowly, you started taking away your high heels, then your panties that you put in his trouser pocket, with only a part of the red lace sticking out and finally you took your red lace bra off, putting it on the ground. Now, you were only wearing your tight black dress with your legs a little bit open while you waited for his response.

“The dress.”

“I want to keep it on.”

“I don’t remember you being in charge.” He whispered, holding your face with one hand. However, when he saw you like that, his body liked it for sure. “You can keep it on, but don’t disobey me again, okay baby?” You nodded.

He started to kiss your neck again, being rougher than before, biting and leaving marks you would regret in the next morning. Meanwhile, his hands were travelling around your body until they stayed at your breasts, pulling down the fabric just for them to pop out; Vettel looked a few seconds at your boobs, before starting to suck one and pinching the other nipple harshly. You moaned his name repeatedly, feeling your core dripping wet from the attention he gave to both of your breasts. Suddenly he stopped, earning a whine from you.

“Wait up, baby…” He backed off, getting on his knees on the floor - you never thought a man could look this hot on their knees.

He opened your legs, starting to kiss every single inch of your thighs in a provocative way and you just whined in the process, because you wanted him tasting you. “What?” He stopped, looking at you, the vision of a messy haired Vettel between your legs made you moan and throw your head back. “I need you to use your words.” As much as you wanted to say, nothing would come out, it was overwhelmingly good to just have that moment. “Lieb, use your words, I’m not going to say again.”

“I want you to taste me.” He looked at you, cracking up a smile.

Then he lowered his head again, leaving a few more kisses, especially on top of your core. The German’s tongue started to move around your clit, moving it in a tortuous pacing so you could feel every move of his; at the beginning you were already chanting his name, putting a hand on top of his head, holding his golden curls around your fingers. Unexpectedly he put two fingers inside you, moving in a quicker rhythm and curling the tips just a little bit, hitting that sweet spot of yours. What made you orgasm for the first time was that besides his fingers working it up inside you, he started to suck gently your clit - you were moaning incoherent words when you hit your climax. Looking at him when he lifted his face towards you with a smile, licking his lips made you let out a wimp, quickly pulling him up and you getting on your knees.

You kept looking at him while you undid his belt and pulled his trousers to the floor, however, his hard-looking dick with leaking pre-cum inside his boxers called more your attention. Slowly, you reached the bar of his underwear, pulling it down and seeing it; you looked up at him before he nodded so you could do what you wanted for a while. You let your tongue pass through his tip, focusing a bit on there, hearing him hold back moan. In one go, you had put his dick in your mouth, feeling it hit your throat, starting it to quickly bob up and down, finally hearing him groaning in pleasure. His hand reached your hair, guiding your head to go slower than you were. “I won’t last long… You’re too good for me.”

You pulled back, looking at him. “Then I want you to finish inside me.”

He smiled at your cockiness, taking the rest of his outfit and laying you on the bed, while he grabbed the condom and the lube.

“Do we have to use it?” You whined.

“Maybe next time we don’t.” He whispered, covering two fingers in lube and pushing them inside you. Him inside you like that made you whimper, looking at him.

“Please, just fuck me.”

“Patience, honey… I don’t want you to feel pain.”

He quickly slid on the condom and spread your legs to his sides, now getting even closer and placing his hands on your sides.

“Ready?”

You nodded, then he adjusted his dick in your entrance, moving in slowly until all of him was inside of you. Sebastian left little kisses up your neck when he saw you closing your eyes, trying to get used to the feeling, only starting to move when you gave him the signal to.

Your walls were clenching around him as he started to pick up his pace, going faster every thrust - this was near pornographic, you were both moaning each others name, fixing your gaze on each other. You could feel every single inch of him inside you going and your climax getting closer, letting your moans even louder - if that was possible. Then Vettel lowered one of his hands, starting to do circles around your clit with two fingers, which made you come for the second time of the night. The blonde wasn’t that far from reaching his either, his thrusts were more erratic and soon he groaned your name close to your ear, laying on top of you.

“That was… Wow.” You whispered, running your fingers along his back.

“Yeah, wow.” He kissed your cheek, slowly disconnecting both of your bodies, which made both of you groan with the sensation. He took off the condom, throwing away  “Let’s take a shower before we go to sleep.”

“How clever, staying the night.” You got up, wrapping your arms around him.

After you took a warm shower together - that could have been shorter if you didn’t kept kissing and caressing each other, you two laid on his bed. You were wearing one of his old Ferrari t-shirts and he was only in his boxers, drinking wine - that he already had, from the bottle.

“I always had a crush on you…” You whispered, trailing his abdomen with your fingers. “Teenage me would be very happy, especially that she used to shamefully read smut about you on the internet.”

“Oh, wow… So I have always been your target?” He joked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

“Don’t say it like that! It’s just… You’re too hot to not check out.”

“So I’m winning from younger drivers, with more energy to keep you up all night?” He was still being playful, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

“Well… You just fucked me and looks like would go for a second round.” You lowered your hand to his boxers. “Besides, I like more mature men, who know how to make me feel good.”

He was at a loss of words, your words had left him red in the face and his classic smile. He placed the wine on the bedside table and pulled your body up, starting to kiss you again.

That night, you still did it two more times, enjoying every second together.

Maybe it was wrong and you would regret in the morning everything you had done together, especially for your reputations within the sport, but that moment was about enjoying what life had to offer you.

[janeyseymour]

stick season

summary: it's stick season. Hurt.

WC: ~1.85k

Feel free to listen to my cover of the Noah Kahan song!

Melissa has been your girlfriend for a year now. And she just joined you on a long weekend to go visit your hometown up in Vermont. Your parents absolutely adored Melissa, giving you the stamp of approval on your newest girlfriend, and you couldn’t be happier about that. 

It was warm, it was cozy, it was perfect. Or at least that’s what you thought. But apparently you were wrong, because the drive back to Philly just felt wrong.

As you promised me that I was more than all the miles combined, you must have had yourself a change of heart like halfway through the drive, because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign; kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right.

Melissa had told you that it was entirely worth all of the miles you were putting on her car to go up there with you over the weekend, and you can’t help but smile with joy. And then she’s kissing the back of your hand and promising you that you were more than all of those miles combined.

But then, about halfway through the car ride home, there’s a shift. She takes her hand off of your thigh as she drives, and when she passes the exit that she usually would to take you back to your apartment, she goes silent, biting her lip as if she’s deep in thought.

When she pulls in to her own driveway, she looks to you sadly.

“Hun? What’s wrong?” you ask, clearly concerned about this sudden shift in attitude. 

She bites her lip nervously. “Y/N, I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

“Do what?” you ask, although deep down you know what she’s hinting at.

She gestures between the two of you. “This. I- I’m not ready for the commitment that you’re ready for… you want to get married and have kids, and move back up to Vermont, and I can’t do that. I- I’m sorry.”

You leave her house in a puddle of tears. The uber driver that gets the misfortune of taking you home gives you quite a few concerned looks through the rear-view mirror.

Now I am stuck between my anger, and the blame that I can’t face, and memories are something even smoking weed does not replace. And I’m terrified of weather cause I see you when it rains. Doc told me to travel but there’s Covid on the planes.

You’re furious. You don’t know who you’re more mad at: yourself or Melissa. She just spent the last three nights with you up in Vermont playing the part of perfect girlfriend before dumping you and leaving you to explain to your parents that you’re single again. And you’re mad at yourself because you knew she didn’t want the future you did, but you had foolishly hoped she would change her mind. You suppose you should take the blame for that one, but you don’t want to face it- admit that it was your fault for putting blind faith in her.

Deciding that you need to relax, you roll yourself a joint, but the memories of you and Melissa over the past year just continue to replay in your mind. And for the first time ever since you started smoking weed, it doesn’t help the pain you feel in your chest. The drug might be able to remedy physical aches and pains, but it sure as hell can’t fix a broken heart; you’re not sure anything can right now.

You don’t leave your house for the next few weeks unless absolutely necessary. You’re a mopey mess, and your therapist finally tells you that you should travel. And you consider going back to Vermont because being in the same city as your now ex-girlfriend hurts too much. But there’s Covid on the planes, and you can’t quite justify driving up to Vermont on Friday night just to leave again on Sunday morning. Come Friday, you really do still toy with the idea of making your way back to your parents’ house, but there’s a cold front making it’s way through the Mid-Atlantic all the way up through New England, and you’re not about to attempt to drive through seven hours of rain and wind. Besides, when it rains, you can only think of Melissa. She used to have you dance out in the rain with her before cozying up on the couch and watching movies. She claimed it was the only way to spend a rainy day.

And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas.

There’s a season that happens in New England when Fall starts to make its exit and Winter presents itself- and every year, around stick season, your life changes. Melissa came during stick season last year, and she left during this stick season. It hurts.

You end up seeing her mother at the grocery store, and you look like a wreck. You give her a shy wave just to be polite- things may have ended with her daughter, but it’s clear to you that she’s entirely forgotten about your existence or previous presence in Melissa’s life.

That stings, and you make your way to the alcohol aisle, throwing a few bottles of wine in your cart so you can mope and play the victim at home tonight. You suppose you’ll just drink until a few of your friends from college come home for Christmas.

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from Dad. No, I am no longer funny cause I miss the way you laugh.

For the childhood that you had with your father, the relationship that you have with him as a grown woman is nothing short of a miracle. Because of everything you witnessed growing up as a child with having your father for a Dad, you came out better. You knew where to draw the line with certain things. You were funny because of the trauma that he caused you though too… but you aren’t funny anymore because the off color jokes that you used to make were usually just there for Melissa- and you miss the way she laughs. So now, you’re back to the quiet and shy, reserved person that you used to be before she brought out the best (and worst) in you.

You once called me forever, now you still can’t call me back. 

You remember when she told you that she was going to be yours forever. You didn’t think that she would ever say something like that- you knew that she hadn’t ever wanted to get married again, but you continued to pursue her romantically. And it was all looking really good for you, until she broke up with you.

You’ve called her a few times, to beg and grovel for her to take you back- tell her that you didn’t care about marriage and children as long as it meant you got to keep her in your life, but she refused to pick up the phone or call you back.

And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas.

You end up flying home after a few weeks because you simply can’t bear the pain of this heartbreak alone, and you can’t quite justify driving for a weekend. It’s still stick season though, and you feel the cool air wash over you as you exit the airport and try to hail a cab back to your childhood home.

After the flight back home, you see Melissa’s mother at the airport. She has a sign that she’s holding indicating that she’s picking someone up. But she doesn’t see you, and after the last meeting with her, you doubt she remembers you… she’s definitely forgotten about your existence by now.

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your breakup with the Schemmenti was half your fault at this point, but you still take the Septa to get closer to your house before stopping at a liquor store- with the intention of once again playing the victim and drowning your sorrows in a bottle of tequila.

Maybe once you’ve seen some of your old college friends, you’ll head back north to see your hometown friends when they come.

And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.

That redheaded beauty has haunted your dreams since you broke up with her. And you miss her dearly. But in each of your dreams, she’s a different version of herself, and it’s quite odd. Somewhere deep inside though, you know none of the versions of Melissa that your mind had made up are her- so you didn’t really lose her in a sense.

You always wake up though and sigh. She isn’t next to you like she should be. And when you head into your living room, you see a pair of her shoes that she left here and hasn’t asked to get back yet.

Your heart splits in half every time you see those shoes. You should just throw them out at this point, but you don’t want to touch them- if they’re there, maybe she’ll come back to you one day. 

Oh that’ll have to do… My other half was you. I hope this pain’s just passing through, but I doubt it.

She really was your other half, and you hope that the pain that you feel every time you see her shoes passes eventually, but you doubt it will.

And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas. And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.

Stick season passes by, and you’re still left on your own. Christmas time comes, and you find yourself with a bottle in your hand almost every night to try to help numb the pain. It’s becoming less and less, but you still miss her with all your heart. You know that being split in half will just have to do… maybe next stick season will bring you something happy again.

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