#its about the FRIENDSHIP its the INSIDE JOKES its the MAKING EACH OTHER LAUGH its the INVITING US ALL IN TO IT ALL!!!

[janitorjuliann]

quite literally its free serotonin

[eddiernunson]

The Splash of Rain on the Roof | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+

Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, always there for me, bestie.

Also to @bebe07011 for reading everything before I post and giving me feed back. Love ya.

Summary: you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

Warnings: (idiots) best friends to lovers, dork!reader, virgin!eddie and virgin!reader (its cute, ok), kinda slow, no protection, creampie, praise/degradation, minor miscommunication trope, sleepy 5am writing, first I love yous

I have another one shot planned, it's about 3/4 done.

Word count: 11k

-

As any first day at Hawkins High in the middle of the semester goes, you had a fairly decent one. A cheerleader spotted you in her class and dragged you over to her table, a parade of jocks and cheerleaders surrounding it. You wondered if their insistence was genuine, and you let yourself believe it. Until their true colours were shown through a nasty gossip session.

For the most part, they all had kind things to say about one another. They encouraged each other and asked how your day was so far. Did it count as false advertising if fake friends show their real colours? If anything, you were grateful they were so quick about it. You barely had a chance to memorize their names when one of them broke out in an overdramatic bellow in disgust. Your interest piqued, nearly drowning in their dull conversations, no matter how polite.

You followed the curly haired boys’ line of sight across the cafeteria to a group of boys laughing louder than the rest of the school. They looked carefree and like they were enjoying themselves. You envied them. Your eyes switched back to your new supposed friends, afraid of what exactly was so worthy of their collective disgust.

Their immediate round of insults to the harmless group of boys left the worst taste in your mouth. After the three or four people had their say, you got up without another word.

“Wait! Where you going?” Called the girl who escorted you to the table.

“Anywhere but here.” You answered, having understood immediately what kind of group of people she associated herself with.

She had plenty more to say, but you didn’t hear another word. You were far too busy beelining for the gorgeous man who was at the head of said table. The moment you looked over to them, your vision tunneled. The complaints voiced by the table of Preps seemed to be an extension of their “freakiness”, or so they called it, which you deduced was just another word for “dork”.

Little did they know, you are also a dork.

So, the table you had just ditched watched in horror as you walked straight to the table and immediately sat down with them.

Turns out the gorgeous man was as kind as he was good-looking.

-

It’s been over a year since you started at Hawkins, over a year of friendship with Eddie Munson, said gorgeous man. What’s even worse, he’s better than you had expected him to be. As you settle into the Hellfire Club, adding your own adventurous characters, and contributing to inside jokes, you and Eddie end up closer than you had ever expected.

Unfortunate news is, he has you so far in the friend zone, you’re starting to wonder if even he knows you’re a girl. (With fantastic tits, which he never seems to even look at.)

You’ve spent plenty of nights in a pair of tiny shorts and an oversized top with no bra as you listen to music and smoke a joint with him, hoping over and over that he would just make a move because lord knows you weren’t gonna do it.

The pressure of his hand when it rests on your lower back, the way he curls your hair behind your ear, his breath down your neck when he hugs you, it all sets your skin on fire.

On one night you were terribly upset at your mom after having a fight with her, getting in your car to take the eight-minute drive to his house. You had arrived at his trailer uninvited plenty of times before, Eddie encouraged it once he realized the fights were a regular thing. Only this time, he wasn’t in the living-room watching a scary movie, or in his bedroom listening to records or making a new campaign.

He was in the shower.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He’s had plenty of showers while you were over. He’d be stupidly apologetic about it, but if you were to be honest with him, the smell of the body wash that lingered on him was too good to pass up. You grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from his fridge and a beer for him, figuring you’d meet him when he struts out in that low hanging towel. On your way to Eddie’s room, a noise like music hit your ears and the slick beer almost fell out of your hand.

“Uh, uh, oh shit…fuck—” You heard him, loud and clear, a noise you only imagined late at night in your own bedroom. You stood there frozen in the hallway, listening as he fucked his own fist. You listened as his breaths got faster, his whining higher pitched. But no sound could match the divine noise Eddie made as he finished. Your breath hitched then, drool pooling on your tongue as you pictured sticky white ropes all over the shower.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your panties drenched just from listening to him. You wondered what would’ve happened if your hands were empty. When the shower turned off, your gut swooped, butterflies kicking in as you raced to look casual on his bed. You didn’t have much time to prepare, turning on some music and picking up one of his magazines. Shit, dirty magazine. You quickly adjusted to the next one over, featuring a Metal band on the cover.

As Eddie entered his room, you were laying on the bed looking casual as you could, hoping he didn’t pick up on your heavy breathing. If he did, he didn’t indicate it. As much as you tried, your breathing didn’t slow, your eyes zoned in on the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, lingering on his treasure trail. He greeted you absentmindedly, picking up a pair of sweats.

That night, you could do nothing but stammer through your sentences, chalking it up to stress from the fight with your mom. He offered you to sleep over, a normal habit you’ve developed, but the itch to slip your fingers down your pants was too much. If you had to face your mom just to get it figured out, so be it.

A switch flipped in you that day, it went from being a schoolgirl crush into a want, no, a need for him.

God, you wish he’d just get a clue…or that’d you get the nerve to make a move.

Something better than this torture.

-

After the third pat on his hand, Eddie finally looked up, wondering why Josh can’t take the hint. “What, what?” He asked, already annoyed at his day as it was. Fucking history teacher…

“New girl.” Josh gestured towards the jock/cheerleader table.

Eddie blinked, questioning why the hell he should be interested in this. The insistence on not just Josh’s face, but the rest of the group convinced Eddie, switching his glance over to the table. You stuck out like a sore thumb, not exactly dressed in their prep uniform. From this single glance, he could tell you were uncomfortable. In any case, neither were most cheerleaders on their first days. Oh well, he figured you would assimilate soon enough. Shame, with how pretty you were.

Soon enough, Eddie’s mood lightened up, amused by the witty banter his friends were spitting back and forth. Something Gareth said ended up being ridiculously funny, a feat that he’s familiar with, and it breaks the entire group into loud laughter, something that obviously disrupts the cafeteria. Eddie didn’t care, and neither did any of the other members of Hellfire. If no one would give them any decency, why the hell would they owe anyone else any?

As always, the laughter invited even more scrutiny. Eddie knew the reaction of the table you sat at, firing off insults surrounding the word freak. If they could just get original content, that would be great, Eddie thought as he looked back down to his notebook of campaign notes. He was in the middle of deciding which book he might need to check out for reference when Josh tapped his hand again, far more aggressively.

“What?” He snapped, but caught wind of what was so urgent immediately.

There you were, walking as if you were strutting a runway to his table. He thought he must’ve had it confused for a second, but after assessing the reaction of your previous table, it couldn’t have been less wrong. Eddie leaned over to the table to his friends, teeth gritted. “Be normal.”

After about ten minutes of awkward conversation, as a last resort you had asked what Eddie was working on. “Oh, the campaign for DnD.”

“Wait, you play DnD?” You asked.

Eddie wasn’t sure if this question was negative or positive. “Yeah, we’re a Dungeons and Dragons club.” Gareth answered for him.

“Oh sweet!” The answer stunned all of them. “Can I join?”

“You play Dungeons and Dragons?” Josh asked incredulously.

“Yeah, my dad taught me.” You replied.

“Drama room, Friday night at 7. Don’t be late.” Eddie said, finally making eye contact with you.

He regretted it from the moment he did. The beauty he saw from afar was only intensified by a hundred. You looked at the table with intrigue, much more interest than you ever showed at the jocks table. Eddie couldn’t believe how wrong he was to assume you would just assimilate with them. You were too good for them.

Wait, you were too good for his club as well, what the hell were you doing there?

-

If Eddie had any current quarrels with the universe, it was that you just kept getting better and better as he got to know you. He was prepared for your level one basic dwarf when you showed up with a level 59 Warlock. You kicked his boss’s ass, carrying the weight of all your co-adventurers.

From there, Eddie swore he must’ve gotten hit in the head somehow, because life just isn’t good for him, never has been. But with you, life is worth tolerating. From the start, he had fallen for you, and he still would have even if you did only have a level one dwarf.

As luck would have it, you would never turn down an offer to hang out with him. The first time he offered, butterflies sat in his gut until he walked up to your locker and offered for you to watch a movie at his house with him. You accepted graciously, asking if he minded you’d watch horror. Internally, Eddie fell to his knees. Externally, he nodded, keeping his eyes on what he called the prettiest damn eyes he’s ever seen.

He felt lucky you accepted his displays of affection with him, leaning heavily into his hugs and letting his legs intertwine with yours. His hair would stand up, your skin setting his on fire.

Lately, though, he could swear something is out to get him. As you started getting more comfortable being at his house so often, you started wearing smaller clothing. First, it started off with a pair of sweats and a messy bun. That tore Eddie farther apart than it should have. It turned into braless shirts and tiny shorts, and Eddie stared at the curve of your ass, usually half hard as you laid on his bed.

The first night he ran to the bathroom to jerk off to the outline of your nipple, he felt like shit, yet he wanted nothing more to mouth at it, to mark it his.

Eddie is so sure you’re innocent of it all, unaware of his lust and feelings for you. It started as feelings, but the lust has started to take over to the point where Eddie has to jerk off before you get there. He knows you’re going to bend over too much as you “help” him with making meals. As of late, the tiny pair of shorts barely conceals the outline of your cunt, something that tugs what could only be described as a whimper out of him, has been becoming all too much.

Eddie realizes he’s gonna have to ask you out.

-

After yet another unsuccessful Saturday night over at Eddie’s house– well, successful in terms of getting you out of your house but unsuccessful in the sense that Eddie just doesn’t seem to see you as a fucking girl– you trade your books to prepare for another boring lecture, watching across the hall as Gareth and Eddie seem to be in humorous conversation, judging on the laughter alone.

Eddie is nodding, appearing to agree exuberantly with what Gareth is saying to him. Might as well kill some time before class starts. You walk over, backpack on one shoulder as the weight from all of your books bounces off the back of one of your thighs. Just as you’re about to interrupt their conversation, Eddie makes eye contact with you. As a reflex, you break into a smile at his dimples. However, Eddie says one last thing to Gareth before walking away from their conversation.

You try not to take it personal. There are several jokes in Hellfire you have learned a long time ago to not take personally. However, this felt personal. Eddie doesn’t usually take part in the jokes at your expense. The boys give you enough crap for him anyways, and he gives them crap, and you give Eddie crap. It’s a wonderful circle of crap, really.

As soon as you approach Gareth, now alone, he gives you a half smile, clearly trying to dissipate from the awkward situation. “Hey,” Gareth greets you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning onto his locker to seem “casual.”

“What was that about?” You get straight to the point, nodding towards where Eddie had just walked away.

Gareth stutters through his words, adjusting his arms between crossed and placing his hand on his locker. Oh, Gareth, ever so graceful. “I-I-He-he-he just-uh—”

“Gareth!” You interrupt him, knowing he could continue his stammering for a while unless you stop it. “Just tell me!” You shove his shoulder, annoyed already. What reason could Eddie possibly have for taking off like that?

“We were just talking about the girl he likes, is all.” Gareth admits sheepishly, his eyes flicking everywhere but you.

“Oh,” you answer, feeling crestfallen. A girl? Eddie likes a girl? And hasn’t even had the audacity to tell you about it? Were you not his best friend? Maybe he’s your best friend, but you’re not his. You shake off that annoying voice of doubt in your head, knowing on some level it’s irrational. Then why didn’t he tell me anything? “Oh, he’s…never even mentioned a girl around me…”

Gareth knows exactly why you’re crestfallen, your crush on Eddie not the most exact unknown fact in your group of friends. “I don’t know, he doesn’t talk about it a whole lot…” Gareth trails off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. It wasn’t exactly a lie; Eddie doesn’t talk about his crush on you. He barely mentions it. The only reason anyone in Hellfire knows anything…is because they have eyes.

“Oh. Alright.” You have to get out of this conversation before the tears that crept up behind your eyes make an appearance. “I’ll see you at lunch?” You don’t even wait for a response, already turned around towards a bathroom to get your shit together.

Gareth feels guilty as shit when he sees the way you shuffle off to the bathroom, your sniffles louder than you even realize. In fact, Eddie was just telling Gareth he was finally gaining the courage to ask you out. Unfortunately, your brain has already eliminated this idea altogether.

-

Eddie sits in his usual spot for the lunch period, a foot parked on the edge of the table as he leans back with his arms crossed, observing his friends arguing yet again. Doesn’t really matter what they’re arguing about, never really does. They could be arguing about which album of a certain artist is better, which class of character is better to play, or even which teacher sucks the most in the school.

They’re all pointless, and Eddie always has a final say in who wins the argument. Being the leader has its perks.

Even as he seems casual, he checks his watch occasionally because you’re still not there yet. He looks forward to your presence at the table, to the way you indulge in their idiotic fights, if only for a second. It never fails to amuse him. Usually, as of late, you’ve been picking a side just to piss off Mike, and he still hasn’t seemed to catch on yet.

Right now, Dustin and Mike are arguing over the stupidest thing yet, something not even worth mentioning. Lucas is trying to give his input that this isn’t worth fighting over, but they’re talking over him. Eddie wonders how long he’s going to let them hash it out for.

Gareth rolls his eyes as he watches Eddie’s face lights up as you finally make your way across the cafeteria to the table. You greet the entire table, letting your bag fall to the floor as you rest your chin on your hand.

Dustin immediately attempts to instigate you into the fight. “Hey, can you tell Mike that—”

“No offense, Dustin, but I really don’t care.” You interrupt him, sounding tired. The whole table but Eddie laughs at your answer.

This allows the table to segue into a different conversation, something that everyone can care about. Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in. “Are you not hungry?” He asks lowly, noting the lack of cafeteria tray you have today.

You can barely look him in those gorgeous brown eyes, your heart dropped to your gut the moment you heard he likes someone else. “Not really. Lost my appetite.”

His brows furrow, watching you avoid his eyes and sink into yourself. This was so unlike you. Usually, you’re much surer of yourself, an aura of confidence even he finds himself envious of at times. “Are you okay?” He asks again.

You shrug your shoulders, not committing to a yes or no answer. You finally lay your eyes on him, and he’s staring past you across the cafeteria, you follow his eyeline…directly to the cheerleader’s table. A realization hits you and somehow your heart drops even lower.

He likes a fucking cheerleader.

You should’ve known his type would be a girl who jumps up and down in a tiny skirt. Maybe you should’ve joined the cheer squad then. Then at least you would’ve had a damn chance.

Somehow, you don’t even have the appetite to sit next to him anymore. “Listen, I have to ask for help in my chemistry class, it’s kicking my ass. Um…”

Eddie is about to protest but you’ve already picked up your bag and started jogging out the large door of the cafeteria. In fact, you missed the rest of the school day to fucking wallow in this stupid heartache. Your mom doesn’t pay enough attention to the school's phone calls to begin with.

As you leave the cafeteria, Eddie gives a questioning look to his fellow Hellfire mates. Hell, if they know. Gareth knows, but they’ve made a collective agreement not to meddle, as much as it pained Dustin. Eddie was just gearing up the confidence to ask if you’d want to hang out that weekend, which is where he was planning on making his move for the first time. He didn't know what was upsetting you, but he figured it was something to do with your homelife, as it usually does.

However, he couldn’t have seen the next week coming.

As Eddie goes through the motions of barely making attendance and handing in assignments with maybe a paragraph of some bullshit he spewed, he usually has your pretty face to look forward to. In his second period, his leg bounces as he waits for you to sit next to him in your usual seat so he can have an opportunity to ask the damn question he’s been meaning to. He's in class on time for once, just to watch your pretty face as you walk to the back corner to sit with him. One benefit of repeating senior year is that he gets to have class with you now. If you could only see his face as it fell as you walked into the classroom and took the immediate seat right by the front door.

After an hour of over thinking, Eddie finally convinces himself you simply just weren’t in the mood for conversation. The way you avoid the Hellfire table when you walk into the cafeteria that day seems to prove that theory right. Until over the following week he sees you having conversations with other members of Hellfire. Alright, that hurts.

One day, he calls your name as you’re at your locker, and he catches your eye contact before you run towards the front door.

What the hell did he do wrong?

-

In your 7th or 8th day of narrowly avoiding Eddie, you end up having to walk home in a light drizzle. Usually you have your car, but your mom insisted on needing it for the day. On the occasion that she needed the car, usually you would grab a ride from Eddie. Right now, that just wasn’t an option.

You start to feel bad for the first time since your avoidance started. You saw how Eddie’s face fell every time you made eye contact and walked the other way. No matter how much you’ve wanted to talk to him, you just can't let your feelings go.

You just need distance. If you give yourself enough time, the idea of having to leave him so he can have date-night with another girl won’t send you into a mental spiral. If you give yourself enough time, you could stand the idea of listening to him gush about her. As of right now, there’s no possible way any of that sounds doable to you.

As you got up this morning, the weather was bright and sunny, warm on your skin. You wore a layered skirt and a tank top. Unfortunately, the rain was picking up slowly, and you’re sure it's going to be pouring by the time you get home, still another mile or two away.

You walk on the sidewalk, arms crossed over one another to prevent from shivering as much as you can, narrowly avoiding the splashing from tires as cars pass by. While the rain picks up, your ears barely pick up on a vehicle slowing down right by you.

“Get in!” You hear a voice, recognizing it off the bat.

You look up to face him, nice and dry in his van that he has pulled over right next to you. You can barely see him through the rain. You shake your head, continuing your walk home.

“Sweetheart, get in! You’re gonna get sick! It’s starting to thunder!” Eddie argues, driving slowly as you continue to walk.

“No, I’m fine!” You answer, your chattering teeth giving away your iron clad position.

“Oh, for fucks—” You think Eddie has given up, your eyes on the ground as you trudge forward, until you see his scuffed-up shoes in your direct eyeline. His firm hands land on the soft flesh of your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey. What the fuck did I do?”

Your eyes look up to him in surprise. “Huh?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for the last week and a half!” He yells, mostly because the rain has picked up so goddamn much.

“I-I just need space.” You tell him, attempting to get out of his hold.

“Wait, what? Why?” Eddie asks. Your eyes blink rapidly as you peer up at him, his curly hair already soaked from the rain. “What do you mean, you need space?”

You gulp out of both tears and frustration. “I just need space, Eddie! I need some time… to get used to it.”

You might as well have been speaking in tongues. “Get used to what? What the hell are you talking about?”

The words bubble up in your thoughts and through your throat before you can stop them. “You made it extremely clear that you don’t see me as anything other than a friend, and now you have a crush on some girl!”

Eddie couldn’t register a single word you were saying. It made no sense to him. “What?”

“I have made a complete fool out of myself! I basically put myself on display just for you to look at some girl shaking her ass in a cheerleader uniform.” You chuckle, wiping some rain from your face as it drips cold down your cheeks. “Maybe I should’ve joined the squad, then I would’ve stood a chance.”

“Wait, wait.” Eddie is having trouble processing any of this. “Can you please go from the start, sweetheart?”

“Gareth told me you like someone.” You admit, your voice faltering. “After sending signals for God knows how long, I guess I finally realize I’ve been making a fool out of myself with you.” You sigh, giving him the saddest look he's ever seen from you. “I just need some time to get over you.”

The information finally all seems to add up for Eddie. “Wait, sweetheart, back up.” Eddie says a soft smile landing on his face as he understands. “You-you like me?”

“Uh, yeah?” You answer, the answer obvious.

“And you think I like some cheerleader?” Eddie asks, pulling you closer to him.

God, this is torture. “I mean, you do, don’t you?”

He laughs, loud and…joyful. “God, no.” He says, and you nearly melt at the half smirk now settled on his face.

It's your turn to be confused. “Huh?”

“The girl I like is you, you dumbass.”

Suddenly your heart is in your ears, and you can’t think passed that smile on his face. The glint in his eyes is new, the look in his eye driving you stupidly crazy. “Wait, Ed, don’t fuck with me here.”

The hands resting on your shoulders float up to the shine of your cheeks, framing your face. Rain is dripping off his bangs and he’s nearly struggling through it but doesn’t seem to care. Truth is, he does not. All he can see is the shine of your lips from the rain. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to kiss those lips since the moment I saw you.”

Your breath hitches, staring at those lips you’ve stared at so many times. “Then what's stopping you?”

Your lips meet in the middle, rain colliding with one side of your face as you tilt your head. He takes the lead right away, your skin on fire as you are barely able to believe that this is real, and that he’s really kissing you. Eddie nibbles on your bottom lip, you let out a small whimper in response. Your tongue eagerly reaches out to meet his, the collision feeling like velvet. Eddie’s hand spreads out on your face, his limber fingers something you’ve fantasized about several times.

You continue to make out in the rain, one of your hands finding their way in his soaked hair. One hand is placed on the small on your back, tugging your body right up against his. Another whimper escapes your mouth, Eddie opening his mouth and breathing heavily into yours in a knee-jerk reaction.

Eddie separates from you, placing his forehead against yours. “You wanna get in now?” A half chuckle passes his lips at the sheer stupidity of this major miscommunication.

“Please.”

Eddie opens the back door to his van, already a blanket and pillow on the floor thanks to his habits in his free time. As you climb in, you squeeze the water from your hair, suddenly realizing you’re actually quite cold. Eddie observes your shivering. “Cold, baby?”

“Freezing.” You admit, grabbing a blanket folded in the corner. He helps you get wrapped up, rubbing your arms quickly. “I don’t wanna stop kissing you, though.” Another admission comes out just as easily.

“You sure?” He asks, walking on his knees to meet you.

“Just kiss me.” You tell him grabbing him by the jacket.

He chuckles as he meets your lips, his face dipping down to meet yours again. You fall backwards to lie down, tugging on his jacket so he lands on you. He giggles as he lands on his forearm right next to your head, all teeth against your lips as he smiles into you. Your legs curl up around his torso, tugging him impossibly closer.

“You have no—” He sighs, kissing you in intervals. “…No idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss these pretty lips of yours.”

Your heart flutters as you giggle into the kiss, the compliments he showers you in too much to believe. “Ed, I-I want you to touch me…” You sigh, the blanket slowly falling off your body.

“Uh, don’t know if you know this, but I…I’ve never…” Eddie stutters, sounding nervous.

You let out a small huff of laughter. “It…it’s okay, Eddie.” Your hands entangle into the wet curls on his head. “Neither have I.”

Eddie lets out an audible gulp from the simple implications. “I think we should get off the main road before we start getting too into it, baby.”

“Oh, ok.” You tell him, butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

He sits back up, a noticeable tent in his pants making you feel flustered. You thought you felt something against your thigh, but mentally, you couldn’t fathom that he was hard for you. He extends his hand out for you, you accept it gratefully as he helps you scoot back out of the back. The two of you scurry to your prospective seats, the rain now coming down so fast your hair is soaked from the mere seconds it took you to get there.

Eddie pushes his wet mop of a head of hair to the side as he laughs with you at the scenario you currently find yourselves in. As he starts the van, he gives you a cocky eyebrow raise, the heat from the air vents surprising you in a blast. His heavy foot placed on the gas pedal surprises you, your head swinging backwards at the force.

Without asking, you know exactly where Eddie is headed. The drive takes longer than average, your nerves racking sky high as his strong hand holds yours absentmindedly.

The rain continues its assault from the sky, a flash of lighting reflecting in the water as you pull up to the edge of Lovers’ Lake. As Eddie brakes, your head falls back onto the fabric covered headrest, eyes closing as you place his hand in yours in your lap. The heat of your arousal is radiating off you, your thumb absentmindedly smoothing over Eddie’s.

There’s nothing you’ve wanted more than to be sweaty with him on top of you, but now that it’s about to happen, the fact is nearly overwhelming. As you soak in the sound of the rain on the roof of the van, Eddie presses his hand where you have it on your upper thigh, putting pressure on it. An involuntary whimper escapes your throat, and as your lungs fill up with air Eddie leans in across the gap of the seats, a chuckle leaving those sweet lips as he nuzzles into your neck.

A sigh leaves your lips as you can feel his teeth start to nibble lightly, relaxing into it. He places his other arm over you, coming up to rub your torso as his tongue delicately laps along your jugular. “Ed…can we lie down?” You ask, your eyelids starting to feel heavy.

“You wanna climb, or you wanna get out?” On cue, a flash of lightning hits right on the lake. “Climb?”

“Climb.” You agree, giving him your sweetest smile.

“Ladies first?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the back.

You awkwardly place your knee on the middle console your hands having a rough landing on the blanket covered floor of the van as you start to crawl forward. Behind you, Eddie appreciates the view, how your pink, thin panties beautifully showcase the outline of your cunt, still soaked from the rain. Well the rain and your arousal, of course.

You turn around, one leg bent as you wait for Eddie to climb over. His hand moves to turn on the overhead light, then he slowly crawls his way to you, the look in his darkened eyes sending a thrill up your spine. By the time his body lines up with yours, you’re giggling out of nervousness, wondering where this energy came from.

He hovers over you, the wide smile on his face as he switches between your eyes sending your nerves up into the atmosphere. Your legs open for him, accepting him as he lays on top of you. His hair starts to fall over your face as he leans in, his mouth deliciously open as he kisses you some more.

“Ed.” You mumble, moving your hands to where they seem to favour, the collar of his leather jacket. “Take this off.”

He hums as he follows your order, sliding the jacket off his shoulders as he continues to kiss you. Well, his multi-tasking is a bit jagged, but you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You admire his newly exposed arms sitting in his wet muscle shirt. He leans down to continue lapping at your neck again, adding more teeth to turn your neck purple, having stared at this part when you stretch out a kink or two from your neck.

You’re so turned on; you can feel it in your bones. “Eddie,” you whimper out, eyes closed as you give in to the way his tongue feels electric. “I need you to touch me, please.” You beg him, your pussy begging you for attention.

“Of course, baby,” Eddie gulps, and knowing him, you could hear his nerves.

“Hey,” you say, reaching out to hold his face. “I can help you, just reach out to touch me and I’ll tell you how to do it. I just need your fucking fingers on me, please.”

Eddie leans in, kissing gently along your jawline. “I know, maybe I just wanted to hear you beg.”

You roll your eyes, calling him out on his bluff. “Mmhmm. Just fucking touch me, Munson.”

Eddie’s hesitancy seemed to die right there, his unsteady fingers simply placed over the thin layer of your panties makes you gasp, just the light touch giving you some satisfaction. “You were saying?”

Eddie starts to lightly trace along the folds, noting how it dips right where your hole would be. Eddie can’t help but get harder as the heat from your pussy radiates. “Feels good…” you mutter, sighing lightly. “Just a little harder, please?”

“You want it harder, sweetheart?” He asks, you nod enthusiastically. “You sure?” You nod again, frustrated at his damn questions.

He puts pressure on his fingers, experimentally starting to circle them around. “Little higher, Ed.” You tell him as he just grazes your clit. He listens, moving his fingers a half of an inch higher and continuing. He moves his fingers just high enough, starting to circle perfectly on your clit. You moan out loud, letting out small gasps. “Right there, right there!”

“Oh my god.” Eddie mumbles to himself, watching your face crumple up as your legs fall more open. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you moan like this…fucking stunning.” Your moans grow louder, your thighs starting to tense. Eddie suddenly stops, and you whimper at the loss. You feel him start to move your panties aside. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, your head perks up, watching his face as he stares at your exposed pussy for the first time.

The heat in your pussy increases, tenfold, weeping just from his intense stare.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, mouth half open and his eyes don’t even blink. “Eddie?” You ask, starting to feel self-conscious.

“Wow…” he mutters, eyes finally locking with yours. “I knew your pussy would be pretty, I didn’t know it would be this ravishing.”

You gulp, feeling more wanted than you knew you ever could.

His fingers trace gently along your folds, just feeling your pussy. As he hears a whimper from you, a note of your impatience, he suddenly turns his hand upside down starting to touch with more pressure. “Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” He whispers. “All…all this for me?”

You’re wet for him more than he knows, but your mouth can’t even communicate it, your brain having gone dumb from his touch alone.

He licks his lips, starting to rub at your folds purposely. “Look at this pretty little cunt, oh my god…wonder…” he doesn’t finish his thought, but when his long digit makes its way in you, you can deduce what he was thinking. He slides it in and out slowly, the length of his finger reaching much farther than yours ever have.

Your breathing gains speed and depth, adding another finger and fucking you slow, yet perfect. “Eddie.” You moan, your slick dripping down your ass and onto the blanket. Eddie moves his fingers faster, looking at your face for your response. “F-faster!”

Eddie lets out a huff of laughter you don’t hear, too caught up in the pleasure. “Jus’ gonna…” He leans in, and his tongue flat against your clit yanks the first genuine moan out of you, the pleasure all encompassing.

“Just like that! Please, Eddie, so close, please!” You beg him, the orgasm sneaking on you as it hurtles toward you, just around the corner.

He switches up, still new to this whole thing, but he makes up for it by gripping onto the soft flesh of your thighs and starting to fuck his tongue into your weeping hole. His lips create a sort of suction around the length of your lips, and the heat that radiates into your thighs becomes too fucking much as your thighs close hard against his ears.

“Gonna…” it’s the only warning you can provide for him before your entire body tenses up, a primal moan leaving your lips. Eddie works you through your orgasm, holding your thighs held against his head and revelling in how you soak his lips. He’s pictured his nose against your pussy too many times to already be satisfied.

As you finally come down, Eddie is still fucking into you with his tongue, seemingly not giving up. You lift your head up, your thighs now loose as you peer at him. “Ed?” You ask, the sensitivity of your puffy lips causing your thighs to quiver a little bit. “Wh-what are you doing?”

His tongue leaves your cunt for only half a second. “’M not done yet.” It’s warbled, his hot breath right against you eliciting another whimper.

Your head falls hopelessly against the van floor, his thumb contacting your clit and tongue swirling against your walls, moaning into your pussy. As you’re still sensitive, the second orgasm starts brewing in your tummy quickly. “Eddie, it’s too much.” You say, attempting to squiggle your hips away from his relentless tongue. “Too-too much.”

“Mmm, ‘can do it.” He mumbles, doubling down on his pattern.

“Ed…Eddie!” You cum into his mouth, your torso involuntarily tensed as you raised, incoherent sounds leaving your lips as you wither beneath him.

As your thighs relax again, he licks a last few times, as if trying to collect all the slick covering your pussy. After one last time, he looks up to you, licking his lips as you recollect yourself. “Was that ok?” He asks, breathing heavily and sweating as if he just ran a marathon.

You give him a look of disbelief, eyes furrowing as you shake your head. “Was…was that okay?” You repeat back to him in astonishment. “Eddie that was…I-I it was… I don’t know who taught you to do that, but it wasn’t me, Jesus!”

He crawls up to you, smile on his face gloriously cocky. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh!” You confirm, your voice indicating that you’re stating the obvious.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says, mouth just hovering over yours.

“What a coincidence, been wanting you to do that for a while.” You smirk, switching your glance between his hypnotising eyes and his glossy pink lips. He finally leans in for a kiss, tongue reaching out to meet yours in a dance of straight up pleasure. “Ed…” You whine, bunching up the wet muscle shirt he’s wearing in your fists.

“Hmm?” He asks, slowly kissing you.

“I wanna help you.” You sheepishly admit, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Please?”

“Help?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance in the meaning of your request.

“I wanna suck your cock, please, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a laugh in incredulity. “Holy shit, please.” It’s damn near a whine, music to your ears.

You giggle in response, finally the shoe on the other foot as you get to now hear those moans as a result of what you do to him, and not through his bathroom door. Experimentally, you reach down, feeling at the tent you’ve felt brush against your thigh as you made out with him. At the mere brush of your hand on the outline of his cock, he moans, and you bite your lip in anticipation.

One leg bends, using it to push and get him onto his back. You sit up, straddling him as you assess his astonished expression. As soon as you sit up, however, you notice the twitch of his cock right under your pussy. Your breath stutters at it, not realizing your bodies would line up this well. As if your brain knows what to do before even you do, your hips start rutting against him, alluring a moan in sync from the two of you.

“Oh my god,” Eddie whimpers, eyes rolling in the back of his head. If you could, you’d take a picture of him.

You giggle, attempting some ounce of self-discipline as you start to crawl down his body, already missing the twitch of his dick against your bare pussy. If just his dick against you feels this good, you wonder how great he would feel inside you, and you almost run out of patience.

No. You want this power: to be on your knees as he moans for you. Show some fucking discipline.

Your hands fumble as you undo the button on his jeans and Eddie lifts his hips as you move them down his legs. You want to tease him over his thin boxers, but the anticipation is too much, the need of the weight of what appears to be his thick cock on your tongue too great. You tug down his boxers, his cock popping out deliciously.

The look of pure lust you saw on Eddie is essentially copy and pasted onto you, your eyes darkening as you take in his length for the first time.

“Uh, baby?” He asks, watching as you’re stuck in some sort of trance.

“So pretty.” You mumble to the pink head, precum already pearling at the slit. Your tongue darts out, wanting a taste of the salt dressing it. You sigh in satisfaction, eyes closing as you wrap your hand around the base. Tentatively, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently.

“What a good mouth, oh my god.” He babbles, hands in his own hair in a haze.

If you could, you’d smile. Only knowing from a magazine with blowjob tips, you start to move your mouth up and down his length, barely able to take in half of it. Your mouth sucks harshly on him, moaning around him as slobber starts to gather at the base. As a way to get the spit off your hand, you rub it on to his cock almost in exact time as you continue sucking.

“Baby, baby, do that again.” He whines, his gasps audible. You follow his request immediately, moving your hand in tandem with your mouth. “Just like that, so good, thank-thank you.”

A sense of pride hits you, increasing your speed as his legs start to move aimlessly around under you. Your jaw starts to become sore, so you decide to experiment some more. You give one long lick from base to tip, chasing a vein that travels around his cock. At the skin around his base, you suck lightly, giggling as he lets out a deep moan. You recall one tip telling you not to neglect the balls, so you travel down to one, sucking on the ribbed skin empirically.

“Fuck—I—” Eddie stutters out between loud gasps of pleasure, eyes closed.

You lick under it, trying to get every inch of skin as your hand absentmindedly strokes him. Your tongue goes back for his now leakier tip, engulfing his cock to the furthest of the back of your throat you possibly can, your gag reflex choking on him.

“Choke on that fat cock, baby, fucking choke on it!”

His stern tone surprises you, yet still turns you on as you continue the choking, now on purpose. You slobber all over his cock, one hand travelling up to hold his hand.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking close…” You double down on every action, his hand squeezing the life out of yours. “Gonna cum down your throat…fuck—”

Eddie lets out the greatest moan of all time, a salty thick substance shooting down your throat as you swallow it easily. You barely have a chance to taste it, too much coming too fast to keep track, attempting to swallow it all. His cock finally stops twitching in your mouth, and as your mouth leaves him, you leave a final sweet kiss on the bright red tip.

As you lift your head to assess him, you see the obvious way his chest breathes in and out, catching his breath. You bite your lip as his eyes stay closed, palm on his forehead as he recovers. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah?” You ask, having never given head before.

“Uh, yeah!” He says as if he’s stating the obvious, falling back on the blanket. “Mere.” He sits back up, grabbing you at the shirt and putting his lips on yours. You moan into his mouth, panting happily as his tongue makes contact with yours. “Fuck, did you swallow?” He asks, fabric of your thin tank top lifted by his hand on your bare skin.

“Mmhmm!” You confirm, giggling as he lets out a sigh of contentment.

Eddie lifts your shirt off, the light-yellow fabric see through from the rain. He throws it across the van, moving you onto your back with his hand supporting the small of it. As he lies down alongside you, mouth slowly moving against yours and a hand trails along your skin, setting it on fire, yet goosebumps appear on your skin in its wake. His hand reaches its destination, travelling under the wire of your bra and starting to play with your peaked nipple.

You whimper into his mouth as he plays with it, tugging on it and sending pleasure down your spine. Your hands leave from where they were stationed on his shoulders to your skirt, trying to move it down your hips. “No, no, let me.” Eddie laughs, his hand leaving your nipple and replacing your hands on your skirt.

He tugs both your skirt and panties down off your legs, moving down the length as he gets them off your feet. You giggle and take off your shoes with it, watching as Eddie finishes taking off his pants and shoes as well.

Eddie lands back between your legs, his eyes hungry, making you feel vulnerable. A single hand, ever ambitious, moves around your back to take your bra off. To your surprise, he takes it off single handedly, the bra snapping off your back as a cheshire grin of satisfaction makes its way onto Eddie's lips. Finally, you move your hands around his back to help him take off his muscle shirt, admiring as each tattoo is revealed, finally allowed to ogle him.

You bite your lip, admiring him in the low light of the van. Eddie falters for a second, gulping. “I…I don’t have a condom.” He admits sheepishly.

You giggle, smiling at him happily. “I don’t care about that, I just need you to fuck me, Ed.”

He smiles, leaning in for a sweet, lush kiss. “I…I have to tell you something.” He sighs, on all fours as he hovers over you.

Your stomach swoops nervously. “Um…okay.”

He lines himself up, the tip slight pressure against your hole. “Okay?”

You nod, now confused. Wasn’t he going to tell you someth-oh my god. He slowly enters you, the pain over taking the pleasure, but the feeling still phenomenal.

“So tight.” He grunts, arms still straight as he waits for you to adjust.

It starts to feel overwhelmingly better, Eddie pulsing inside you, you can feel every inch against your walls. “More.” You plead.

Eddie pushes in a bit more, a high whine leaving your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby, taking this big fat cock.”

“Cock feels…so good…” You sigh, eyes closing on their own accord. “Didn’t…didn’t you have something to say?”

He laughs, his cock twitching in tandem. “I do…”

“You’re inside me, and you’re still a tease?” You ask, humming as it turns to pleasure again. “More.”

Eddie pushes in a little bit more, licking his lips as he takes in your pleasure-stricken face. “A tease, eh?” He asks, wondering what you meant.

“Walking in with your chest still wet—” you whine, interrupting yourself, “the cut off sleeves you wear, mast-masturbating in the shower…more.”

“Just a little bit more baby.” You don’t know how he could be any deeper, you’re pretty sure he’s already at your cervix. “Wait…you heard me in the shower?”

You huff a breath of laughter, tightening around him. “Mmhmm. Sounded so fucking hot, I might’ve touched myself in your bed when I heard it.”

Eddie moves in a final time without your say-so, and you moan in surprise. “Sorry, baby, you just—you just took me by surprise. You touched yourself in my bed? When I was in the shower?”

“Only because I could hear you.” You admit, your legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer to you.

“You could hear me? I was so sure I was being quiet.” He admits, his breath hot against your skin as he lies directly against you.

“Not really.” You admit, biting your lip in embarrassment. “It was so fucking hot, Ed.”

Eddie sighs, peppering kisses against your skin. “Well, I was thinking of you and those thin pjs you wear, sweetheart, so I guess it was a mutual masturbation.”

“I wondered if that was working.” You admit, humour in your voice. Eddie shakes his head, everything suddenly making sense. He kisses you deeply, hips still stagnant as he allows you to get used to his girth.

“So, you had something you wanted to tell me, Eddie?” You ask, slowly caressing the side of his torso, lightly tracing the tattoos you come in contact with.

“Mmhm.” He hums, leaning down to kiss skin gently, any skin he could reach. “Thanks for remembering.”

You roll your eyes, starting to get antsy at his still hips. “Just tell me.”

“I’m telling you this, because it broke me to see your reaction after you thought I even liked someone else.” The heartache seems so far away now, especially since he’s currently balls deep inside you. “I don’t just like you, sweetheart.” He admits, his voice suddenly soft and sweet. “I’m in love with you. I have been in love with you for as long as I’ve known you, at least, I think…I don’t know. But I don’t want anyone else, never have, baby. I just. Want.” Unexpectedly, he lifts his lips, pulling a gasp. “You.” He bucks his hips once for emphasis, taking in the already fucked out look on your face as you take in everything he just gave you.

“Really?” You ask in a light whisper, breathing heavily. “You-you love me?”

“Mmhmm.” He affirms, his hips bucking out slowly yet again.

“I-I love you too, Ed.” You admit, your heart open and full, every part of you, full, as he slowly fucks into you.

The words take a minute to register, his hips stilling completely. It’s such a tease, the way his hips still after only mere seconds of starting their trek. You whimper as an answer, your hips lifting to silently request that he’d continue. “Ed?”

“Oh my god…” he mutters, slowly lapping his way down your neck. “I’m so crazy for you, baby, so fucking insane.”

“Can…you please move?” You request politely, legs tense at his hips as your cunt begs for more attention.

“Need this fat cock to fuck you good, don’t you, baby?” He manages out, voice with a hint of husk in it as he continues to kiss his way down your body. The dip of your collarbone, valley of your tits, biting at the areola, licking dirtily along the curve of your breast…as far as he could go without his cock leaving you. “Hmm? Just desperate for it, aren’t you?”

One side of you wants to ask him where he's come up with this, because it’s driving you absolutely wild. The other side doesn’t fucking care where he got it from, the pleasure from his delicate licks consuming you whole. At a loss for words, you nod your head.

He grunts as he bucks himself into you, this one harder than the last. “Oh? Can’t use your words, baby?”

You whine, feeling pathetic, and yet, ravishing in it. “I just want you to rail me, please, please, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He asks, turning his lips into your neck again, muttering against your throat. “How bad?”

“Enough to think about you” you huff, heat floating to your cheeks, hesitant in saying it. Could he just…keep moving? Please?

His teeth graze your ear, nipping at it. “Wanna finish that sentence, love?” Eddie asks, his voice making your thighs clench together around his hips.

“Eddie, I've thought about you everytime I fucked my pussy with my fingers. I’ve thought about you fucking me more times than I can count.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how many times I’ve fucked my fist praying one day it would be you…whimpering and whining for me.”

“Then turn me into a fucking mess, Ed. Please.”

Finally, his lips leave your throat and he looks at you, his grin manic as those adorable dimples finally give you that look you’ve been craving for what feels like eons at this point. His hips move into action, fucking you at a force that pulls feral grunts out of your mouth, sounds you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.

“Baby, your pussy is so tight, just pulling me in.” He grunts, one hand curling its way into your hair, pulling lightly at the roots.

“Eddie, your cock feels so fucking good. Fucking—keep going—oh my god.”

Eddie is torn between moaning, grunting, and thoughts that are never finished. His hand, nimble and huge, trails up and down your torso, your legs, touching every inch he can. Finally, two of his fingers make their way to your clit, rubbing it with fervour. Your pussy clenches around his length as he continually bucks into you, the mix of sensations too much, and yet, everything you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Eddie, can you please do something for me?” You ask, reaching out to hold his face with both hands and giving him a sweet kiss.

He sighs into your kiss, tongue connecting with yours, and you feel dizzy and high in pleasure. “Anything, angel.”

“Want you to call me a slut.”

He leans in for another kiss, much dirtier and much needier. His hips rut into yours desperately. “Yeah? Dunno if you’ve really earned it…” he comments, teasing you.

You don’t realize he’s egging you on, desperate for him in ways you didn’t think you could be. Your mind goes to the thing it was fixated on when Eddie once held your face, hands petting two fingers absentmindedly. You grab at the same two fingers, nimble and long, and place them in your mouth, sucking as you wrap your tongue around them.

Eddie’s mouth opens, jaw slack as his tongue pokes out. A shine appears in his eyes, glazing over as they fixate on your mouth. Your mind might’ve been tricking you, but you swear his dick twitches inside you. His hips have stopped…again. “Oh shit, my dirty little slut.”

You nod your head enthusiastically, rutting your hips up again, silently begging for more. You moan around him, eyes hooded, Eddie blurring in your vision from the steep want. Your teeth graze his fingers lightly, lapping your tongue over it when he whines. Around his fingers you choke, your mouth hot and wet. Your mouth leaves his fingers for a moment, light shining in the spit glazing your mouth. “Baby I need you to fuck me. Please, Ed. Please.”

“Listen to this little slut beg for it. Can you beg some more? Hm? See that pretty little mouth beg, just for me.” His low rumble only spurring you on further.

Eddie knows you love what that husky voice is saying as your pussy pulses around him. “Hmm. Eddie, please, please fuck me. Need that cock so fucking bad. You have no idea how much you turn me on, your rings, your arms, fuck, that pretty fucking mouth, those gorgeous eyes, oh my fucking god. I have needed you to fuck me for this last year, please, Ed, just rail me until I can’t think.”

Your chest is heaving, eyes slowly assessing Eddie’s reaction. A smile slowly creeps on his face, until it’s a smirk that sends a shiver right through you. Your eyes dart back and forth between his, anticipating his next move, biting your lip. The first thing he does is lean down to give you a kiss, that can simply be described as romantic. His tongue reaches out to connect with yours, gliding together in a dance that you don’t think you’ll ever get over.

Honestly, you think, if his kiss ever bores you, the person to your left better beat your ass for taking for granted how fantastic these lips are.

After a moment of just his lips on yours, lying together so unified, you aren’t sure where he stops and you begin. Slowly, his kisses move from your lips, down the dip of your neck, and he licks slowly up to your ear. “Hmm. Fuck you until you can’t think? Baby, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

A moan leaves your throat, a hint of a whimper. His lips curl up more against your ear, a light laugh huffing against it.

Then, his hips get to work.

Every goddamn time Eddie stopped, every time he made you beg for him to keep going, whether it be silent or verbal, he makes up for it tenfold as soon as his hips start moving. He pushes up, using his hands to lift his body up and start fucking you at a relentless pace. Slowly, you recognize an annoying squeak fades in the background, the sound of the axel against his differential from his hips bucking wonderfully.

Not a word leaves your throat, the only sounds are small gasps falling from your lips, faster and faster as the pleasure impossibly grows within you. It feels like an aura of heat, radiating from your full pussy, and throughout your body.

“Feel good, baby? Feel that fat cock fucking you, good and full?” He grunts out from between gritted teeth.

You nod, whines leaving your throat, one shock at a time.

His hand on your hip tightens, nails digging into the doughy skin of your ass. “Hey, slut. I asked you a fucking question.”

“So good…so good…so fucking good…so fucking good. Ed-Eddie…I—” You’re cut off by your own shout, the way he hits hard, and deep, impossibly harder.

“Look at my cock-drunk little slut, taking this cock so well.” He mutters, voice deep and gasping for air. “Fuck, feels so good.”

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him so his forehead lands on yours, harshly, but in a way that makes him grunt…almost…animalistic…

“Cum…cum in me…” it’s a struggle to get out, but once it does, you witness Eddie falter for just a second.

“R-really?”

“Please, please cum in me. Want it dripping out of me, please baby.”

His hand stutters in its movements, sliding up from your hips, to your neck, hands gently raising on the front. “Want me to cum in you?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Want me to claim you as yours?”

“Been…been yours since I sat down at—ah—your table, Ed.”

“That’s fucking right, you have, you’re all fucking—all fucking mine.”

His hip movements are a little more jagged, his breathing heavy and jagged. “Harder.”

He chuckles, hand tightening around your throat, a grunt leaving your throat at each fucking hit. “Fuck…gonna—”

He cuts himself off, his cum filling you up deliciously in spurts of hot, white, mess. You go over the edge with him, your orgasm hitting you in a way that will have you fucking skipping around the halls of the school. You whine his name, choked out past his ring-necklace wrapped around your neck.

His torso collapses on yours, covered in sweat in the thick of the van.

His hand leaves your neck, both wrapping themselves into your hair. You seem to finally catch your breath, almost gasping as his weight is the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt in your life. He’s laid on you several times before, but never this intimate, his breath mixing with yours, making you feel whole.

You giggle, a smile that takes over your face in every muscle, completely lighting up. As much as you try, you can’t hold it in. It floats down your face and into your body, every limb full of complete joy. Eddie twists his head into your neck, you feel the wide smile he makes, gorgeous laughter leaving his lips against you. His teeth nip at your neck, making you giggle harder, hands flying up to your face.

Eddie leans up his face to see yours, the lazy smile lopsided, a pretty shine in his eyes. It’s…new…and radiant. You giggle again as you look up at him, your hands landing on each side of his rosy, glowing, cheeks. His skin is hot and flushed, your thumbs slowly caressing his face.

He leans in for another kiss, gentle this time, making you feel all too dizzy. A sigh of utter contentment leaves your mouth, biting your lips anxiously. “Hi, love.” He mutters, a lithe finger moving a strand of hair that fell into your eye. “Doin’ good?”

You nod, shyly rubbing your head into his chest. “Very good.”

He laughs, tilting his head up to face the roof of the van, still sheltering you from the sturdy and never-ending rain. “Fuck, rain hasn’t stopped.”

“It’s pretty.” You comment, observing the pattern of the roof his van. “I love the sound.”

He hums, eyes raking you over as he leans into you. “Not as good as the sounds you make.”

You roll your eyes, hitting his arm gently. “Eddie.” You giggle, legs wrapping themselves around him. “What a line.”

His lips softly land on your cheek, giving you a final kiss. “Not a line, just the truth.” He whispers, hands now preparing himself to lift out of you.

“Wait.” You stop him, holding on to one of those strong arms of his. “I—I really don’t want you to leave yet, baby.”

A laugh escapes his throat, in utter disbelief if anything. “Oh, we have plenty of time for cock-warming, gorgeous, don’t you fucking worry.” He assures you. “I just thought we could go to my house, make out and watch a movie, ya know?”

“Mmhmm.” You answer, still moaning at the loss that was too much to handle. “I just wanted to…revel in it.”

“Oh, I love you so fucking much.” He sighs, grinning at you as he crawls to his clothes.

You lean up into your elbows, a symphony of giggles leaving your throat as he tosses your panties into your face. “Can we make out on your couch?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Eddie tells you, curly hair that’s already frazzled from the humidity even crazier from the tryst. “Hell, you can ride me, let’s get out of his van before we both catch a cold.”

You put on the skirt he hands to you. “Both?”

“Yep.” He nods, also throwing his jacket. “You walked a mile in the pouring rain with no jacket on. You’re gonna be a mess this weekend.”

Nodding, you agree with him. “I mean I’ll be a mess either way, no?”

Eddie shakes his head as he puts on his shirt, giving you a look you’ve been dying for him to shoot you. As if he’s so lucky to have caught you.

He’s wrong, you’re the lucky one. The two of you finally finish getting dressed, meeting in the middle in your cold, wet clothes. You crawl into his arms, nuzzling his chest as he places a kiss on your damp hair. “C’mon, let’s figure out how far we can get into Halloween before ripping each other’s clothes off again.”

You giggle, climbing into the passenger seat. If it was up to you, the tape wouldn’t even make it into the VCR.

Your hand intertwines with his on the way there, your whole body relaxing into the fabric seats. He can’t keep his eyes on the road, glancing at you every five seconds. It’s hard to believe only twelve hours ago you were in bed cocooned because your heart was aching so badly.

Now your heart aches in a completely different way, and it’s from not being able to comprehend that you could love and be loved in return just as much.

The next morning, Wayne walks into his trailer to see clothes scattered along the hall. You didn’t even make it to the couch.

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

[sapphire-writes]

Pretty Little Thing

summary: After finding yourself at a holiday party you hadn't wanted to attend in the first place, Aemond Targaryen makes it worth while.

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, praise, slight dirty talk, overstim, kissing, love bites, hand over mouth, titty play, allusions to Aegon being a creeper, alcohol, smoking, langauge

word count: 7.2k

note: im back! grad school didn't kill me! hope you enjoy!

link to other stories from me!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙

—

Be there soon.

Alysanne had texted you nearly an hour ago, and with each passing minute you became more doubtful she’d be making an appearance at all.

You hadn’t even wanted to come. It’d been her idea and now she was blowing you off.

“We’re just exchanging the last of our things,” she’d promised on the phone several hours earlier, “You go on without me and I’ll meet you there.”

Yeah. Because it takes three hours to give your ex-boyfriend his stuff back. Totally.

Alysanne and Cregan Stark had been on and off again since you’d known her; this time was no exception. You knew from her first running later than I thought text that the night wasn’t going to go as you’d hoped. 

You decide to like her most recent message instead of replying, unable to stop the wave of annoyance cresting inside of you. 

You hadn’t even wanted to come.

An end-of-semester holiday party. Thrown by the elder Lannister siblings; twins Jason and Tyland. The kings of Casterly Rock are well known for their extravagant get-togethers and the unimaginable generational wealth that funds all their exploits. 

They’d long graduated from King’s Landing University, but you and Alysanne scored an invite courtesy of Cerelle Lannister, their younger sister, whom you’d been trying to avoid since you arrived. If Cerelle didn’t see you, perhaps you could escape the party unscathed.

That hope proves too good to be true as your name is called from across the room. You slide your phone back into your pocket as Cerelle approaches you. Her blonde hair hangs in effortless curls down her back, the emerald green top she wears accentuating its golden hues, along with her bright green eyes. 

You’re not exactly close with Cerelle, though she appears to enjoy your friendship, at least on a surface level. She’s part of the weekly book club you attend. Her grin widens as she reaches you, eyes drinking you in. 

“Darling!” she muses, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“You wore it!” she says, fingers ghosting across the cashmere cardigan you’d chosen to wear that evening. Cerelle had bought it for you a few weeks ago, though you’d begged her not to; the price was more than you made in a paycheck.

Alysanne once referred to you as Cerelle’s Polly Pocket.

“She pulls you out of her pocket and plays dress up. It’s fucking weird,” she’d said. 

Cerelle’s lips curve upwards in a Cheshire cat grin as she slings an arm around your shoulder, bringing her glossed lips next to your ear.

“Stop moping in the corner like some dreary wallflower,” she purrs, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Have some fun! It’s winter break!”

Goosebumps break out on your skin at her affections. You laugh breathlessly shrugging away from her touch causing her to frown. 

“You haven’t had enough to drink,” she insists, reaching for another glass, “You’re much too antsy.”

“Alysanne was supposed to be here,” you tell her and she nods understanding, looping her arm through yours and giving your forearm a comforting pat. 

“Fashionably late as always, I suppose,” Cerelle drolls, pointing across the room, “There are lots of fascinating characters here who’ll distract you. Shall I spin a bottle to decide?”

“Hilarious,” you tell her, shaking your head.

“I never joke about a good shag,” Cerelle argues, gaze flickering about the room, “From the looks of it you could use it.” She turns back to you, matching your pout. “Don’t frown, you look too lovely.” She places her hands on your cheeks, thumbs tugging the corner of your lips upwards.

“Much better,” she praises as you hold the smile she’s decorated your face with, “Come on let's find you someone…don’t look at me like that! Someone to flirt with, that’s all. A bit of harmless fun.” 

You roll your eyes earning a pitch on the arm and you swat Cerelle’s hand away.

“There’s no one here I want to flirt with,” you insist, following her gaze around the room, “Let alone shag.”

“You’re too picky,” she muses, tapping a manicured nail against her chin as she scans the room, “What about Greyjoy?”

A shiver rolls through you, “No thank you.”

“Heard he’s good in the sack.”

You’d heard a lot of things about Dalton Greyjoy. None of which made you want to spend an extended period of alone time with him. You glance at Cerelle giving her a firm look. She sighs, returning to her mission.

“You need someone,” Cerelle insists after you shoot down several more options, “You haven’t been with anyone since—what was it again?”

His face flashes through your mind before you can help it. 

“Unimportant,” you quip, “Cerelle, I just want to—” Your words die as two new guests bound up the stairs into the main hallway. 

Suddenly, it’s as if all the air has been sucked from the room, your heartbeat echoing in your ears the only sound you can hear. You tug Cerelle closer, eyes wide.

“You invited them?” you hiss, as Cerelle frowns, following your gaze.

“Not me. Jason must have,” she answers, “It’s not a party without Aegon. Jay swears he has the best coke on this side of the Keep.”

Aegon Targaryen is relatively harmless as long as you keep your drink close. You’re more concerned with the tall figure who lurks closely behind him. Though the younger, Aemond Targaryen towers over his brother; his presence makes the room feel smaller, colder than it was moments ago. He’s dressed in all black, as he usually is, the silver chain around his neck the only other color. His long snow-white hair is braided down his back, an eyepatch securely covering his left eye.

He never takes it off.

Aegon pushes by his brother making a beeline for the kitchen where most of the chaos is localized. You can tell a new drinking game has begun by the sound of cheers and the echo of glasses clinking together. Aegon’s eyes lit up as he disappeared down the hall, eager to join the miscellaneous fun.

Aegon loves a good party.

Aemond watches his brother but lingers behind in the living room leaning against a wall. He extends a long arm to the bookshelf retrieving one with his long fingers. He flicks open a few pages, lips pursing. He glances up, violet eye meeting yours for the briefest moment. 

Your lips part and you look away, warmth flooding your cheeks. You had shared a couple of classes with Aemond, nothing more nothing less. He was quite mysterious. 

“Anyway,” Cerelle says, her attention wavering with each passing second, “Back to you drinking. I’ll get you another glass. Loosen up, pet.” 

—

You try to, you really do. No matter what her intentions are, Cerelle has been nothing but nice to you, so you allow her antics. An hour has ticked by and Alysanne has yet to respond to your latest text message. Squeezed between Cerelle and Sabitha Frey during another round of quarters you decide to plan your escape. 

“I’m going to get some air,” you tell her, rising from the couch. Cerelle rolls her eyes, “I’m not leaving, I swear!”

“You better not!” she says, perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitting together, “I’ll come to fetch you if you’re gone too long—you know I will.”

She’s telling the truth. 

“Five minutes,” you insist, forcing a smile.

Cerelle’s nose twitches but she lets it go and nods, returning her attention to the game.

Weaving through the sea of people you make your way outside letting the door shut behind you as you walk down a few steps of the front stoop. It’s colder than you expected, you can see your breath in front of you. 

You stand shivering, trying to decide what to do next. Reaching into your pocket, you check your phone for the time. You could leave, make your escape down the steps, and catch the last bus back to Maegor’s Holdfast. 

If you stay any longer, you’ll be forced to spend the night or dip into your savings to splurge on an Uber. It’s always crazy expensive on this side of town as if the drivers know the neighborhood is full of rich kids. 

The door opens and noise from the party fills the cool night until it slams shut once more. You roll your eyes expecting Cerelle as you turn your head. 

Only it isn’t her.

Aemond Targaryen lingers on the top step, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing a cigarette between his teeth. He finds a lighter a moment later, a nice expensive one, flicking it open with a sharp click. Fire blooms in the palm of his hand and you can just make out the three-headed dragon branded on the side of the silver lighter before it disappears into his pocket again.

He releases a cloud of smoke into the air, mimicking the one your breath makes. You turn away as he walks down a few steps, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“You were in my class,” he says suddenly, his head tilting to the side, “History of The First Men, right?” 

You force your lips together. “Mhmm,” you answer, surprised he recognized you.

Aemond Targaryen didn’t seem the type to remember a random girl in his class. Smart as hells, he focused solely on his grades, paying little attention to the rest of the student body. He seemed to be the antithesis of his elder brother. Though incredibly different, supposedly they had similar lustful appetites. 

One for pleasures of the flesh, the other for academic validation.

Aegon Targaryen was a known party boy and ran in multiple social circles. He didn’t care about class or popularity; if there was sex, liquor, and drugs around, Aegon Targaryen would be there. 

However, there were stories about Aemond too that made their way around campus. 

“You alright?” he pressed, the silence laying heavy between you. 

“I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now,” you breathe, chuckling slightly as you rub your arms as the frigid air bites into your exposed flesh. 

Aemond quirks a brow at that, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Why’s that?”

“You’re sort of a banned topic at book club,” you admit, causing his lips to curl into a small smirk. 

“Am I?”

“Mhmm.”

Another moment of silence goes by before his curiosity gets the better of him. “Because?”

“Maris runs it,” you tell him, and he clicks his tongue, nodding to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.

Maris Baratheon, the elder of a pair of Irish twins. Floris Baratheon, once the object of Aemond’s affection for about a half second, was royally screwed over when he left her for none other than Alys Rivers. Adjunct Professor. It was quite the scandal at the time.

You’re not exactly friends with Floris; closer to Maris if you had to choose. But it's the principle of things—girl code. 

“Floris and I were never exclusive,” Aemond comments.

“Yikes.”

So maybe Aemond Targaryen is just like every other guy. Though, you’re mostly sure he’s telling the truth. The story you’d heard was that he ghosted her. 

“She shouldn’t have assumed,” he continues, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes, blood boiling at his statement as annoyance begins to quicken in your belly. Aemond Targaryen seems more like his elder with every word that leaves his curved lips. 

“Right, of course not, how dare she,” is your sarcastic reply. 

Aemond tilts his head toward the sky, speaking around the cigarette. 

“You seem rather upset,” he accuses, “Funny, Floris never mentioned you.”

You turn to face him fully and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Folding your arms across your chest you jut your hip out. “We’re not friends. It’s the principle of it all. I don’t like assholes.”

His perfect lips curl slightly. “I’m an asshole?”

“Mhmm. At least Aegon owns up to his behavior, he doesn’t pretend he’s some suave guy doing nothing wrong.”

You swear a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Sure seems like it.”

Aemond takes a step closer then. You have to tilt your head to look him in the eye. Something about being this close to him is almost unnerving, your stomach drops slightly as you focus on his prominent cheekbones. 

“It’s not my problem if a girl gets her hopes up after getting fucked properly,” he counters.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you back up, slightly slipping against the icy railing. Aemond reaches out, his hand curling around your bicep to steady you. It’s warm, almost hot; the heat seeps through your thin sweater in the shape of his fingers. 

There’s a tension between you as he holds your arm for a second too long, before the door opens and several partygoers stumble down the steps, forcing you to break apart. Aemond takes another drag of his cigarette from across the stairs as they laugh tumbling into the street. You’re grateful for the distraction, taking a moment to slow the frantic beating of your heart, and the slight flutter in your stomach. 

“So,” you begin, trying to break the awkward silence the partygoers left behind with their departure, “How do you know Cerelle?”

Aemond looks at you quizzically.

“How do I know Cerelle?”

You jerk your chin up in a hasty nod. Aemond chuckles, shaking his head and taking another drag.

“Family friend,” he answers, “Old money likes to stick together.”

You nod again, unsure of how to answer as he observes you. 

“Surely you’ve heard of the Westerosi Seven?” he asks.

You haven’t.

“The what?” 

“The seven families,” Aemond says, his tone indicating that this is somewhat common knowledge, “Generational wealth that can be traced back to medieval times. The higher lords and ladies. Near royalty.” He takes another drag.

“And you’re one of them?” you ask, crossing your arms. 

“My family, yes,” he answers, “And Cerelle’s. The Baratheon girls. Stark. They’re all quite close.”

“Interesting,” you tell him, glancing down the street again, “You sound like the mafia.”

Aemond holds your gaze, not denying your allegation. You release a breathless laugh, but unease settles in your gut. 

The door opens as if on cue, and Cerelle pops her head out. 

“Darling! Come back inside you’ll catch your death,” she calls, waving you forward. She spots Aemond out of the corner of her eye, and you don’t miss the look of interest that gathers in her green eyes as they flicker between the pair of you, “Targaryen.”

“CeCe,” he politely greets, choosing to use the nickname Cerelle often kept reserved for her family only. She doesn’t comment on Aemond’s choice. 

“Hope you’re being nice to my girl,” she says, the words clipped.

“Of course,” Aemond comments and you can’t help but feel like you aren’t there. 

Cerelle glances back at you, a smile decorating her face once more. 

“Come on, pet! In the kitchen.”

Her blonde hair disappears in the door. Aemond walks down the remainder of the steps tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it beneath his heel. 

“Best run along,” he muses, not turning to face you, “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Annoyance prickles under your skin.

“She’s my friend—”

“You have got a very generous friend,” Aemond comments, turning to face you. He motions at your sweater. “Myrish, isn’t it?”

You cross your hands over your chest. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond hums glancing up at you from the bottom step, “I’d just be careful if I were you. Accepting gifts from rich strangers is a lot like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds.” 

You scoff at the implication before turning away and heading back into the townhouse. Aemond does not follow; you don’t hear the door open as you hurry back up the stairs. 

The party has since moved completely to the kitchen, sans a couple making out on the living room couch. You enter the crowded space and crane your neck to see what everyone is cheering at.

It’s something happening on the marble island, but you don’t see what—that is until Cerelle sits up, her blonde curls cascading around her face, a lime between her pearly white teeth like a cat with a mouse. 

She smiles curling her finger, beckoning Aegon Targaryen forward. He leans against her, bringing his mouth to hers and stealing the lime. The juice flows down his chin before he lets it fall, pressing a sloppy kiss to Cerelle’s lips, earning several cheers. 

As she breaks away she notices you, eyes lighting up as she slips off the counter. 

“Good, you didn’t leave!” she says giggling, “It’s your turn.”

“My turn?” you ask, heart dropping into your stomach. 

“Mhmm,” she says, dragging you forward, “Up now!” 

“Cerelle, I don’t—”

“Hush! Qyle Martell is doing it,” she says biting her lip suggestively, “Let the sexy Dornishman take a shot off you, alright?”

Your cheeks darken as he appears before you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you onto the counter like a lamb for slaughter. The crowd cheers and your eyes widen as you meet Qyle’s warm brown eyes. 

“Your sweater,” he says, motioning to it with his hand that clutches a bottle of tequila. 

You glance at Cerelle and she nods encouragingly. Over her head and in the doorway you spot Aemond. He didn’t leave after all. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, observing the chaos with a curled lip, as if the entire thing is beneath him.

Qyle whistles, drawing your attention back to him. He motions to your sweater yet again.

“Oh,” you tell him, moving to unbutton it. 

Thank goodness you wore a tank top underneath. Your fingers slip with nerves as you struggle to unbutton it. You’re the center of attention, peers cheering and chanting around you as you struggle with the bottoms. 

Quite the sacrificial lamb you are. 

“Here, can I help?” Qyle asks, reaching toward you, his fingers bumping against your own. The bottle of tequila sloshes. 

“No—no I’ve got it—oh!”

You’d moved wrong, done something wrong—or perhaps someone pushed him you’re not sure. Your head is buzzing with the noise of the room and suddenly the front of your sweater is doused in tequila. Qyle’s eyes are wide as Cerelle pushes him to the side as the smell of alcohol fills your nose. 

The room quiets momentarily until Cerelle’s bell-like laugh pierces through the silence. 

“Qyle you idiot,” Cerelle sneers, nose wrinkling with playful distaste, “You’re supposed to wait till she’s laying down—”

“It was an accident!”

“—and her sweater!” Cerelle growls in annoyance, “Go upstairs, pet, my room. Pick anything you like.”

You slide off of the counter, hurrying from the room, leaving the sound of music and chanting behind as you move deeper into the labyrinth of the Lannister home. 

—

Cerelle’s room lacks color and warmth. 

You’d spent the night once here before, crawling into the white feather bed after too much mulled wine. Cerelle had stroked your hair until you’d fallen asleep, only to awake the next morning with a severe headache and a churning belly. 

Popping the rest of the buttons, you peel the soaked sweater from your body and throw it in the hamper. You then walk over to Cerelle’s closet—double doors—and open it. Expensive. Perfumed. You’ve already ruined one pretty thing. Though Cerelle could hardly care about the expense, you do. You sigh, gently pushing through the soft fabric.

“Playing dress up?” a voice calls, and you turn to Aemond at the door. 

You close the closet door. You’ll just have to survive in your thin top. Aemond holds a glass of whiskey between his long fingers.

“Well, I suppose that was a given,” you answer him, sitting down on the bed.

Aemond watches you from the doorway, his arm raised above his head, fingers tapping nonsensically against the frame. 

“D’you want to see how you’re supposed to do it?” he suddenly asks.

“Do what?” you question, tilting your head to the side. 

“What Qyle was going to do,” he answers, and you understand his meaning. 

Aemond walks over to you, the ice rattling against the glass he lazily grips between his fingers, coming to stand in front of your legs. You’re not sure why he’s asking, what interest he has in you. But something in your belly tightens the closer he gets.

“Alright,” you give him a quiet answer, the word barely slipping past your lips. 

Aemond purses his lips, glancing down at your legs. 

“Spread them,” he says softly, motioning with the cup. Warmth creeps up the back of your neck and blooms on the apples of your cheeks. You lock eyes with him, focusing on the ring of violet that surrounds his pupil. You do as you’re told, knees parting; his gaze hypnotizing. “Wider.” 

Your skirt tightens against your thighs as you do so, but you spread your legs wide enough for him to stand between them. He takes a step forward and you’re forced to look up at him.

“Lean back,” he instructs. You’re beginning to notice how easily he slips into the domineering role. Again you follow his instructions, cheeks burning as you lean back, propping yourself on your elbows. 

You’re much more exposed without your sweater, the tops of your breasts visible in the thin top you wear. Aemond steps closer, looming over you, heat radiating from his tall form.

He reaches out, fingers caressing your cheek. You hope he can’t feel how warm they’ve become, feel your pulse fluttering against his fingers as they trail underneath your jaw and down your neck until they reach your collarbone.

“You’re to put salt here,” he murmurs, pressing against the dip of your collarbone for emphasis, “That’s first.” He leans down then, fingers trailing over your shoulder and down your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Though we’re without.”

You swallow as his fingers continue to trace your collarbone. His violet eye watches you carefully before he pulls his hand away. He brings them lower, ghosting down your ribs until they reach your waist.

“May I?” he asks, fingers at the hem of your shirt. You give him a wordless nod, not able to trust your voice. Aemond pushes the fabric up slightly, revealing your navel. He holds the glass above your stomach; a drop of condensation falls causing you to flinch at the cool sensation.

Aemond flicks a brow at the constriction of your abdomen, “You’re quite sensitive.”

“It’s cold.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees, turning the glass so more condensation falls; little raindrops begin to adorn your skin, “The liquor goes here.” His fingers ruin the pattern he’s created, rough fingertips swirling the dew drops around your navel, “Tequila.”

“We haven’t got any,” you breathlessly tell him, his touch leaving a scorched trail across your belly. 

Aemond brings his glass closer, pressing the edge against the beginning of your belly button, letting some whiskey pool there. Your hands clenched into fists as the cold liquid fills you up; you watch as it shakes slightly, overflowing. Aemond leans forward, catching the spill with his mouth causing a gasp that sounds more like a moan to leave your mouth. His mouth covers your navel and you can feel his tongue swirl around, collecting the liquid he poured there with hot, calculated strokes. 

His violet eye peers up at you from behind silver lashes, half-lidded as he hollows his cheeks sucking harshly. He reaches toward the side table, mouth never leaving you, to place his glass on the edge freeing his hand. You can feel his tongue circling your navel, gently probing the sensitive skin. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at the ticklish sensation. Aemond presses his hands against your obliques before releasing you with a pop, his chin and lips shining. 

“That’s how it's supposed to be,” he murmurs, not moving from the spot between your legs. Some of his silver hair has fallen across his brow, and on instinct you reach forward, brushing it from his eyes. 

“There’s one more part,” you tell him, fingers grazing the beginning of the scar that mares his left brow before disappearing behind the patch.

“What’s that?” he asks, his gaze revealing he knows the answer. 

He just wants to hear you say it, you realize. 

Your lips part, fingers still somewhat tangled in his hair; the strands soft as silk between your fingers. 

“There was a lime,” you tell him, “The person….holds it in their mouth.”

Aemond pushes up then, his hands sliding up your sides until they’re pressed into the bed on either side of you, his face inches from your own. 

“Have you got a lime on you?” he asks, his breath warm on your face, the scent of whiskey strong between you.

“No,” you murmur, not knowing where to look. He’s so close you can see the flecks of blue and gold in the lilac iris of his eye, count his silver lashes, and notice the small indentation on the tip of his prominent nose.

He hums again, his eye dropping to your lips.

“Pity,” he says, lips down turning into a pout.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest with the way it's pounding incessantly against your ribcage. He’s so close your chests are practically touching; your nipples straining against the fabric of your top. His chain peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes flicker to his lips, tongue darting out to wet your own and he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

Your hands wrap around his neck as he kisses you; his lips so soft and firm against your own, skilled tongue parting them with ease to deepen the kiss. A moan doesn’t make it out of your throat as his hand cradles your jaw, the sound of soft kisses is the only thing you can hear besides the muffled hum of the music playing downstairs. 

Aemond pulls away then, the look is his eye ravenous as he lowers himself between your legs once more. For a minute you think he may grab his glass and do the party trick all over again, the kiss just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Instead, he pushes your skirt up, fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thighs. You realize a moment too late what he’s doing.

Riiiip!

“Aemond!” you squeak, as he rips the seam of your tights, “These were a new pair!”

“I can buy you another,” he says, pressing a kiss against the smooth newly exposed flesh, “Or perhaps CeCe can. You’re her favorite plaything, aren’t you?” 

Your cheeks burn at the statement, your mouth pressing together in a tight line. Aemond grins, nimble fingers undoing the zipper of your skirt and wiggling it down your legs along with your ruined tights.

“Oh she doesn’t like that,” he says, clicking his tongue, “But it’s true, isn’t it?” His hands are roaming higher now, grazing against your clothed center. You’re certain he feels the evidence of your arousal but he stays quiet about it. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? A pretty little plaything.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss, humiliation seeping into your veins, though it does little to quell the desire pooling in your belly. 

“No shame in that,” he says, shaking his head, “I understand Cerelle, entirely.” His fingers tug your panties down your bare legs, exposing your wet center. Aemond’s eye locks on it, lips quirking upward. “I like pretty things as well.”

“So I’ve heard,” you quip as Aemond’s second-hand joins the first. He swirls a finger low against your entrance and you clench as he drags it upwards.

“Have you?” he muses, circling your clit with minimal pressure, “And what have you heard?”

“That you’re as insatiable as your brother,” you manage to choke out as his thumb continues to tease your clit, “You just hide it better.” 

Aemond cocks his head to the side in silent agreement before pressing his face against you. A sharp cry leaves your lips as his tongue explores from your entrance up to your clit, the tip circling the sensitive button. 

Eyes rolling back in your head, Aemond nuzzles his face against you, tongue slipping down and pressing into your clenching hole. He hums in approval as you make another desperate noise as his tongue curves upwards inside of you. 

Seven hells, how is anyone’s tongue long enough to do what Aemond’s is doing? Your toes curl as his tongue hooks upwards against the front of your pelvic bone, thrusting against the sensitive patch of nerves that resides there.

“Oh gods—fuck—fuck!” you cry as he continues the repetitive movement of his tongue, waves of pleasure lapping up your spine, sending shivers through your whole body. “Hells Aemond…”

His nose presses against your slippery clit, rubbing against it in a way that stokes the pleasurable fire burning in your belly. His hands hold your thighs open and you throw your head back against the bed as the pressure inside you builds and builds and builds. Your back arches and your thighs tremble in his bruising grasp.

You lean up on your forearms to watch him, his violet eye intently watching your face, studying your reaction. You can tell he’s smug at the effect he’s having on you. He would often get that same look in his eye in class after he proved someone wrong or made a more intelligent point. How you must look to him now; all spread out before him, flushed and slack-jawed, dewy-eyed and pretty. 

You’re a pretty toy to play with. Just want he wanted. 

His tongue leaves your fluttering pussy and you whine at the loss of contact. He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like needy before two fingers sink inside your warmth to replace what he took away. 

Aemond’s tongue returns to its place around your clit as his fingers curve upwards replaying the motion from before. The stimulation now is much harsher, the pads of his fingers dragging effortlessly against your spongy walls, curling with brutal intention; relentlessly pressing against the swelling spot inside of you. 

His warm, wet tongue against your clit only hastens the tightly winding ball of pleasure in your gut and you feel your walls swelling around his fingers as your release knocks the wind out of you. 

You come with a strangled cry, hands gripping the bed sheets as your abdominal muscles contract to the point of pain, all your muscles going taut as warm waves of euphoria rush through you. 

Aemond releases a choked chuckle of appreciation as he feels you tighten around his fingers. He fucks you through it, stretching out the wave of your orgasm until your legs are trembling and the overstimulation causes you to hiss at him.

“Stop, stop, please.”

“Alright…shhh,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound and gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, “There you go, that’s a good girl. You did so well for me.”

You can’t help but warm at his praise, the ringing in your ears fading as your chest swells. Aemond is on you once more, lips pressed to yours the mingled taste of whiskey and you hot on his tongue. 

“Are you going to let me fuck you?” he murmurs between sticky kisses, “Hmm?”

“Aemond…” you breathe into his mouth, hoping that is enough for him.

You can feel him smirk against your lips and know instantly it's not. He tuts disapprovingly, pushing you back against the mattress, his face dipping into the crook of your neck.

“What would Floris say?” he teases, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp. His braid is all but ruined. “I thought you said something earlier,” he continues, nipping and sucking at different spots on your neck, humming with pleasure when he locates a spot that has your back arching. 

“I don’t—”

“Loyalty, I recall,” he purrs, his hand snaking down your side, gripping the meat of your thigh and hoisting it around his waist, “Something like that.”

“Aemond,” you whimper helplessly as he grinds against you, the feeling of his hard cock concealed by his trousers driving you close to madness, “Aemond please.”

“You’re going to have to say it,” he insists, kissing your cheek, “Come on, say it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, “Please Aemond—gods.” 

“They can’t hear you,” he taunts, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, “You’re all mine.”

You frantically nod, nose bumping against his as his lips curl into a greedy smile. He removes his shirt with one hand before he rolls off of you and onto his back, motioning to you with his hands. 

“Go on then,” he says, “Take what you want.”

With shaky hands, you undo his belt above the sizable tent in his pants before dragging the zipper down and releasing his cock. He’s bigger than you expected, both in length and girth, the reddened tip already weeping in anticipation. You stroke his velvety shaft once before he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him. 

His hands pull your shirt from your body as you straddle him, his cock nudging at your folds. Aemond’s hands slide up your back, undoing your bra and freeing your breasts. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, hands cupping the sizable mounds, “Gods, you’re so lovely.”

Your face burns at his praise as you raise your hips before gripping him in your hand and guiding him inside of you; gently letting yourself slide down his length, inner walls fluttering around him at the new sensation. Shuddering on top of him you whine at the stretch. “Gods—”

“You can take it,” he murmurs, squeezing you softly in encouragement, “Come on baby, that’s it, just like that.”

Slowly you let him bottom out in your warmth, happily seated on his cock feeling incredibly full. You brace your hands on his chest as he pinches both of your nipples, your jaw slacking in response. Aemond lifts his hips slightly, gauging your reaction as your eyes screw shut.

“That feel good?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, slowly starting to ride him, hips lifting and returning to his with a soft smack. 

“There she goes,” he murmurs, hands dropping to your hips, squeezing, “Take what you need, gevie.”

A breathless moan escapes you as you ride him, his hands guiding you through the movements. The hum from the music downstairs matches the ringing in your ears. 

Aemond drops his hand from your waist bringing it to the apex of your thighs. His lips part as he watches you rise and fall on his cock, his length coated with your arousal. 

“That’s it,” he coos, his tone bordering on one of condensation, “Just like that—there’s a good girl.” His thumb brushes against your clit as he says it, a broken moan leaving your lips as pleasure ignites your veins. 

His movements are soft, tantalizing, and brutally calculated as he circles the sensitive button; his other hand clings to your waist, hard enough to bruise. Surely they’ll be memories of his touch when you wake; dark purple petals blossoming on your soft flesh at first light. He guides your movements as they become sloppier the closer you get to your release. 

It sends tingles up your spine, your chest and neck growing warmth as you edge closer to the precipice of pleasure.

No other man has made you finish before.

“Are you close?” Aemond murmurs, never stopping his attention to your clit, the subtle movement of his hips thrusting up into you, “I know you are—can feel you clenching around me.”

Your head falls back, mind foggy as you desperately grind against him, trying to ignore the burn in your hamstrings. Aemond’s hand leaves your hip crashing down against your ass with a loud smack. You yelp in surprise, head jerking forward, nails clawing into the hardened muscles of his chest. Aemond’s hand remains where he’d spanked you, fingers curling into the meat of your ass as he releases a breathless laugh; his eye flickers to where your nails dig against his pale flesh, leaving a trail of red behind as they scrape down his chest.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you quickly nod earning another stinging slap, “With your words gevie. Use those pretty lips.”

“Yes,” you practically gasp, “Yes, Aemond I’m close—”

“And you want to cum, don’t you?” he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk, “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, Aemond please—” the sentence dies with a moan as he plants both feet on the mattress, bucking his hips up against yours at an inhumane pace. Your eyes screw shut, mouth hanging open in ecstasy as all the muscles in your body tense followed by a sudden burst of euphoria pulsing through you. 

Aemond hums in satisfaction as you ride your high, blood rushing in your ears as you shake on top of him, clenching around his thick length. He’s careful to pull his thumb away from your sensitive clit as your eyes flutter open, eyebrows scrunched together at the overstimulation. But his compassion is short-lived as he hooks his arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back and slotting his body on top of yours. 

His cock is removed for merely a moment at the switch of positions before it’s stretching into your once more earning a sharp gasp. Aemond’s hand covers your mouth in an instant, his face buried in the crook of your neck once more. 

“Shhh,” he coos, placing a kiss under your ear, “Hear that?” he asks, thrusting gently into your warmth causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “Listen.”

His hips continue their gentle roll against yours, slowly stoking the pleasurable fire that is reigniting in your belly. Limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you blink rapidly trying to focus on what he’s asking. 

The music downstairs has died.

“Everyone’s going home,” he murmurs, through another kiss, “We’d best be quick. Would hate for lovely Cerelle to find her pet in such a position.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks and he chuckles, keeping his hand over your mouth as he slings your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts. The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot almost lovingly as he drags his cock in and out.

“Keep quiet,” he murmurs, the sound of silence deafening with the lack of music, “Can you do that?” He’s rather cruel with his question, delivering a particularly harsh thrust as he asks, then clicking his tongue in disapproval at your muffled moan. “Thought not.”

So his hand remains as he plows into you, the sounds of your pleasure muffled but still desperate as you claw at his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “Cum for me again, just like that.” His pelvis grazes against your clit, the friction only aiding in his efforts of making you reach your release once more. His violet eye scans your face before he dips to your collarbone, nipping the sensitive flesh with his teeth and you cum with a desperate cry against his hand. 

“There you go,” he coos, the words breathy and broken his hips faltering as your walls clamp down around him, “Squeezing me so fucking tight—fuck.” He regains his pace with renewed enthusiasm as your walls continue to flutter around him. Aemond removes his hand from your mouth pressing it into the mattress beside your head. 

Nerves raw from the continued stimulation a tear rolls down your cheek as he chases his own release. Aemond leans forward, hot tongue darting out to catch the salty stream as he hums in satisfaction. 

“We’ll have more time next time,” he whispers the promise against your cheek, “I want to explore what other pretty noises you make.” His lips capture yours then, swallowing the whimper you release. 

“I’m very curious,” he murmurs against your lips, slinging your other leg over his shoulder, pushing your knees back beside your ears. “And I’m very thorough.” A silent scream leaves you as he slams back into you, toes curling as you cum again, vision going white with the force of it. 

Aemond’s hips meet yours a few more times and then you feel his cock pulsate inside of you before the warmth of his release fills you to the brim. You’ll need to make a trip to the pharmacy, but you’ll think about that later. He stays like that for a moment, buried to the hilt inside of you as you both try to regulate your breathing. 

Aemond lowers your legs gently from around his shoulders and brushes some sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod as he kisses you sweetly.

“Just fucked out,” you assure him, a pleasurable ache radiating down your thighs. Aemond hums, carefully pulling his softening cock from your warmth.

The emptiness takes your breath away as he stands. “Wait here,” he orders, walking towards Cerelle’s bathroom. He returns a moment later, washcloth in hand. You push yourself onto shaky forearms as he carefully cleans the mess between your thighs.

“Thank you,” you tell him, face burning from his attention.

“No need for thanks,” he insists, “It’s the bare minimum.”

“For you maybe.”

Aemond flicks a brow toward his hairline, his violet eye meeting yours. His expression is curious, but you sense he’s not going to push you to elaborate. You hold his gaze. 

Not tonight.

“Are you staying here?” he asks, standing when he’s done, handing you pieces of your clothes.

“I think I have to,” you answer, putting your skirt back on and glancing at the clock, “The last bus is long gone.”

Aemond frowns, reaching for his phone.

“I’ll have my driver take you,” he says, unlocking his screen.

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s no trouble,” he insists, placing the phone against his ear, “Cole. Ten minutes. Thank you.” He hangs up quickly leaving no time to argue.

“Thanks,” you mutter awkwardly while finishing dressing. You walk to Cerelle’s large mirror and attempt to fix your sex hair. Your eyes widen in horror as you tilt your head to the side, leaning closer to get a better look. 

“Aemond,” you hiss, fingers pressing against the three red marks sure to bruise, “I look like I’ve been mauled by a bear.”

Aemond walks up behind you dragging his fingers down the curve of your neck and over your collarbone. Goosebumps appear in their wake. Three more red marks lead a path down to the top of your right breast. Several sizable mouth-shaped love bites. 

Aemond rests his chin on your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Think of them as a gift,” he tells you, the curve of his lips pressed against the skin of your neck.

His hand curves around your waist, the other slinking up to turn your face towards him. He hums appreciatively, kissing your lips, then your cheek. Down your neck to your shoulder. You glance in the mirror once more, catching his eye. 

There’s something new there. Almost possessive. 

His grip on your waist tightens and he presses his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

Outside, snow begins to fall.

[sugarlywhispers]

a.n; SMUT, oral sex (fem receiving), izuku is pussy-drunk because we know no other izuku than the one who LOVES eating pussy. lol i had an izuku itch that needed to be scratched so here it is *wink wink*<3

You and Midoriya Izuku have been friends for a long time now. He's such a good friend, always attentive, kind, funny and respectful. Yet he becomes cheeky, flirty and sometimes sarcastic when there's more trust in your friendship.

Friendship. It's just friendship. You have to remind yourself of that everyday. Push your stupid little –strenuously huge– crush on him very deep inside and lock it away. He's fucking Number One, Pro Hero Deku. How could you not have a fucking crush on him?

Still, when he gave you the opportunity to be friends, you didn't doubt it. You dug your feelings very deep and just accepted what he gave you; a funny, sincere friendship that you honestly didn't want to ruin. Especially because Izuku was also very intentional in watering this friendship with you.

It got to a point where you even slept in each other's places with complete normalcy sometimes. He had clothes in your closet for when that happened, and vice-versa. Izuku even talked to you about the dates he went on, and so did you.

He even held your head after a hard night out with friends, where you found the guy you were in a “relationship” with snogging another girl. Too much alcohol trying to bury what you have witnessed and an ugly date with the toilet as you threw up. Izuku held your hair back and caressed your back with patience and care that early morning. Even dried your tears and hugged you through the feelings. No, you didn't love the guy, but you could have if he hadn't been a fucker.

No one would ever fit into the standard Izuku had made you build around men. But you had to try and find, considering that the main standard was not interested in you that way, and would never be.

It's exactly why, here you are. Waiting in your car after texting said man “oi!, i'm here!”, after he expressed that he has had an awful week and was so stressed he could throw a train towards the sky, up to the atmosphere. Holy fuck. The imagery made you laugh at the moment, but also sent a shiver down your spine at his tone because damn, he was so frustrated and angry. So, you didn't doubt it. Told him to get ready, that you would pick him up in 20 minutes to take him out.

There was no other intention other than pamper him, help him distract his mind from all the troubles that stressed him. Like a friend would.

It had been a lovely night, filled with lots of laughter, jokes and accomplished smiles that felt too normal by then.

You suddenly feel his eyes on you, his body directing his attention towards you as you ride the car, softly mumbling to a well known song that it's playing.

“What?” You ask a moment later, stopping right in front of Izuku's building and looking back at him.

“I just realized… You took me out to dinner. We had ice-cream as dessert and even some cocktails after. You drove and paid for it all. And now you took me back home…”

You snort, “And? What's the problem with that?”

You are a bit confused, especially because he's talking looking dead serious, like he has come to a realization that makes him even imagine in his head whatever it is that he is thinking. Jesus, even his eyes look so determined and shiny it makes you feel weirdly nervous.

But of course, you were not expecting at all what he said next.

“Do I have to suck you off?”

You look directly into each other's eyes for a full minute. Death silent. Song playing in the background. A car passes, its light making Izuku's face become clearer and exposed for the second it took until it drove away. Both your breathing suddenly heard loud inside your car. 

And then you both laugh your hearts out. Almost to the point of crying.

It's so ridiculously funny. The way Izuku asked it was so sure and ready for it and also keeping a serious tone. This type of humor with him has become so funny and comfortable to portray, you can't help but to answer back, “I mean… if you want to.”

You obviously mean it as a joke. It's not the first time you joke with double meaning in your words. It has become normal by now between you two.

Yet Izuku suddenly stops laughing. Again looking dead serious as you slowly come back from your laughter. You clean a small tear that threatens to fall from your left eye as you look at him. His expression is... alert, attentive; eyes are on you, shining, waiting, excited. And as time passes, you realize with a quiet and small gasp; he wants to suck you off.

Next thing you know, you’re sprawled over Izuku’s big and expensive couch, your jeans and panties thrown around somewhere in his living room. Legs open, exposed, as Izukus delves into the taste of your cunt. Both his hands, callous and a bit raspy due to his injuries and in contrast to your soft skin, hold you down by the waist as his mouth doesn’t even separate a millimeter from its place, tongue dancing all around your very wet pussy. 

His eyes are closed and he lets a few grunts here and there that travel up in your body and make you shiver in pleasure, followed by a tongue movement that makes you roll your eyes back. He's fucking enjoying having you like this.

Finally.

[leahswife]

where do we stand

summary: you're tired of aitana's mixed signals and someone on the spanish team loves to get you all flustered. aitana is definitely not jealous.

spoiler alert: that someone is none other than jenni hermoso.

a/n: more like fulfilling two fantasies in one

prequel, part one, part two, part three

this national break had come in handy for you and lucy. england was set to play a few matches in spain, so you were able to sneak in a break between trainings to go see your club teammates and you managed to check in the same hotel as them for the time being. 

you were both getting antsy as the game was approaching its end and spain was in the lead by one goal. 

when the referee blows the final whistle, you exhale in relief and lucy stands up, cheering, quickly pulling you up to celebrate with her. 

it takes some time for the stadium to start clearing up, with both teams doing their laps around the pitch to thank the fans, but once it was empty enough you and lucy walked down to the field to congratulate your teammates.

you ran up to ona, the girl grabbing your waist so she could lift you up and down with excitement, "ayyy oni!!" you laughed at being manhandled, when you noticed aitana.

her smile was radiant as she was cheering with salma and mariona. you didn't know if you should approach her or not, your situation a bit complicated as of now. explaining it was no easy task either. 

you were shy around everyone when you first transferred to barça, although over time they managed to crack your walls and gain your trust. especially aitana, the girl getting closer and closer to you each day. you eventually became best friends, until one night aitana drunkenly confesses she wants to kiss you. so then, your friendship changes into a… situationship? the next day you talk about it, aitana doesn't know what she wants but doesn't want to lose you either. you go back to normal as if nothing happened. but something does happen. during movie night at mapi and ingrid's for team bonding, you and aitana are in the corner of the couch whispering to each other, in the dark, when the catalan tentatively kisses the corner of your mouth. when you drop her off at home later that same night, you kiss her. she brings you inside, which turns one kiss into multiple. what could be defined as innocent kisses in each other's houses eventually become not so innocent make out sessions behind closed closet doors at training. but you're not dating. aitana whispers into your secret kisses that she can't date, she doesn't have time, she needs to focus. so you wait, and wait, and wait. until she's pulling away again and national break comes and she barely messages you, apart from the friendly "good luck" message.

so now here you were, in close distance to her again. you were friends, right? so friends congratulate friends. that's what she wants, so that's what you'll give her.

you turn your attention back to ona and squeeze her shoulders, "best defender in the making! just you wait until you have to face our lessi russo." you tease her by patting her cheek. ona rolls her eyes with a smile, "voy a estar preparada, tonta. what did you think of the game?" she now asks both you and lucy, as the latter approached, having been talking to alexia. "ehh, más o menos." lucy answers, banter present in her voice. ona mocks her and you chuckle, leaving them to it as you walk over to aitana.

"nice goal, bonmatí." you lightly kicked her butt with your foot to get her attention. she turns to you and immediately launches herself into your arms with an infectious smile. it must have been the adrenaline of the win, you think, a bit surprised. nonetheless, you hold her in your arms. "i saw you in the stands." she affirms once she let go of the hug to look at you tenderly. "hm, i might have been your lucky charm then." you shrugged nonchalantly and whipped your hair over your shoulder. "sí, obvio." aitana went along with your joke, nodding with a fake serious expression. 

suddenly a body slammed into you both, one tattooed arm being wrapped around your shoulder and the other around aitana's. "entonces, chicas, vamos a celebrar la noche entera?" you look up to see jenni hermoso flashing you a dazzling grin.

you had met jenni a few times before, with her visiting alexia every now and then, but you were never brave enough to start a conversation with the tall woman. truth was, she was extremely intimidating to you, probably because she was also extremely hot. however, you had to admit that, as an opponent, she was in addition, extremely annoying. you'd had some interactions in the field whenever england had to play against spain and jenni knew exactly how you worked. it's like she would previously study your every move so she knew how to push your buttons. if you were trying to get the ball, she wouldn't leave your side, if you were getting ready to receive a corner kick with your teammates, she would stand behind you and place her hands on your waist, if she tackled you she would offer her hand with a smug smirk.

you were terrifically infuriated with how easily she could mess with your head on the field and outside the field after a game, often leaving a dm on your instagram saying she couldn't wait to play with you again, followed by a winky face emoji.

right now, her strong arm around you and the way she was grinning at you only managed to redden your cheeks as aitana took the lead in answering her question with a laugh, "pues claro!" jenni ruffled her hair in approval and turned to you, "can i count with you as well?" she asked with challenge in her eyes. "aren't you a bit old to be partying all night?" you challenged back, forcing yourself to keep a straight face and not smile with amusement. that only prompted her grin to grow even wider and her hand to relocate from your shoulder to the side of your neck, playing with your hair. your breath hitched and suddenly you weren't playful anymore, far too aware of jenni's touch and her gaze. "so you do have a mouth." jenni remarked, the stupid smirk never leaving her face. 

aitana caught notice of this flirty interaction between you two and felt something boil in her chest, an ugly feeling she couldn't quite tell what it was but didn't like at all.

–

the club was already full when you got in with lucy and ona later that night, music blaring and people filling the dance floor. you noticed aitana dancing with some of the girls, a little too close for your liking. but she didn't want you like you wanted her, that's what you needed to remind yourself of. therefore, you might as well find a way to have fun tonight without her. you three reached the tables where most of the girls were gathered to greet everyone. 

you swiftly made your way to the bar, ready to start your fun. you were waiting for the bartender when you felt a breath on your ear, "you know, standing behind you outside of a football field can be even more exhilarating than i thought." you recognized jenni's voice right away and a smile slowly formed on your face. this, whatever it was, could be part of your fun, right?

you turned around and ignored your instinct to take a step back out of surprise, given how close jenni was to you. your eyes naturally scanned her body before your brain could even scold you for it and force you to put on a nonchalant mask. they finally looked up at her face, blush already visible on yours. the always present and annoying smirk she had on when talking to you turned to the bartender to order you two a drink.

"you know, i always wondered when you were going to finally talk to me, princesa."

"why would it matter to you?"

she cocked her head to the side, eyeing you curiously.

"i like corrupting pretty innocent girls who look like they could rip my head off in the field but then avoid me like the plague." she bit her lip, trying to hold off an amused smile when you roll your eyes.

"why have you never done so before, then?"

"alexia doesn't let me get too close to her players – and it seems she's not the only one." she points her head towards aitana, who's been watching you two interact from the dance floor with a frown on her face. 

you turn back to the bar to grab your drink and begin gulping it down, trying to keep your mind off of the catalan that up to that point had you wrapped around her little finger. "maybe you just have a bad reputation." you bite on the piece of lemon it was given to you and lick the bitter taste off of your lips. you noticed that had caught jenni's attention and asked, now with a small smirk, "should i be wary of that?"

her eyes never left your face as her strong hand carefully moved up your neck to your jaw, pulling you closer. you could feel her breath on your lips when she goes "i want to do bad things to you but i think it's something you should test yourself." 

your heart starts beating faster, blood rushing to your cheeks and your thighs pressing together involuntarily. just one move and your lips would be touching hers.

all of a sudden, your body is jerked away abruptly from the bar and jenni by a hand grabbing your arm and leading you in the direction of the club's exit. you look up to see aitana and let yourself be dragged outside where you pull back your arm, making her face you. "what exactly do you think you're doing, aitana?!" the rush and amount of emotions you had felt in the span of a minute made you question her with annoyance in your voice.

"that's what i should ask you. que haces con jenni?" aitana looked at you incredulously, an angry scowl visible on her face. you had only seen her angry on the pitch, and even then those moments were rare. but now she was pissed at you? for what? that only aggravated you further.

"what do you mean 'what am i doing with jenni'? you and i are nothing. you made it clear yourself multiple times. you can't have me whenever you want me and expect me to wait when you don't feel like it anymore. so do not tell me who i should or should not hang out with."

"but it's not just hanging out, is it?" she puffs air out of her nose, the frown never leaving her face.

"do you actually care or are you just jealous someone other than you is getting my attention?" you bite back.

"i'm not jealous. i'm just curious." she mumbled, crossing her arms and looking away, doing everything now to avoid your furious gaze.

"oh, so you're just curious. that's why you dragged me away from her like that." you say, sarcasm on the tip of your tongue.

she finally looks at you with an exasperated sigh, "and i'm worried. of course i care about you! and i know jenni isn't looking for anything other than–" she cuts herself off for a moment, knowing what she would say next would make her sound like a hypocrite.

"well, then that makes two of you, doesn't it?" the anger in your voice subsides but your tone is still bitter. aitana furrows her eyebrows together, a sad frown taking shape in her face at your words.

"the difference, aitana, is that if you tell me, right here, right now, that you want something with me, that you're not going to rush into my arms one minute and act like nothing happened the next, i'll stay. i won't go back in there to jenni or anyone."

"i–" aitana stutters, you can see her eyes begging you not to go back but her voice can't say the same. "i--i'm sorry. tú sabes que no puedo hacerlo." she whispers, almost as if she's ashamed to say it. 

you nod, fighting back your tears. silence looms between you both before you finally answer back, "that settles it then." you clear your throat before your voice can betray you any further for showing so much vulnerability in that moment. you turn around and start walking away, picking up your phone to call an uber when you see a message.

"28A 3rd floor. i expect to see you there ;) - jenni"

you seriously couldn't understand how this woman was capable of exuding cockiness even through text.

–

you managed to stay in your hotel room for about 30 minutes before temptation and frustration got a hold of you and you marched your way to jenni's.

you take a deep breath and knock on the door.

immediately you can't resist the urge to roll your eyes when jenni opens the door with a smug smirk on her face, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame.

"took you long enough."

"shut up." you pushed at her chest and made your way inside.

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

My House Of Stone, Your Ivy Grows

WC: 1.5K

A/N: I don’t even know if this makes sense, I don’t know what this is

Summary: Connor’s never been good at fighting for what he wants, in this case who he wants ANGST?

Connor Bedard and Y/N had been inseparable since they were kids. Their families lived next door to each other, and it seemed as if fate had intertwined their lives. From the moment they learned to walk, they shared laughter and tears, holidays and birthdays, always side by side. They were the definition of best friends, the kind of bond that everyone around them marveled at, especially their mothers, who often joked about them getting married someday.

As they grew older, their friendship blossomed into something more complicated. Y/N had always admired Connor's dedication to hockey; he was a natural talent, the star of his team. But it was more than just his skills on the ice that captivated her. It was the way he made her feel—alive, cherished, understood. Connor was everything to her, and deep down, she believed she was everything to him too.

But life took a turn when Miles entered the picture. He was charming, just as athletic, and somehow everything Connor wasn't. When Y/N started dating him, it felt like someone had ripped a part of Connor's heart away. The first few weeks were unbearable; Connor pretended to be happy for her, but inside, he was hollow. Every shared moment between Y/N and Miles felt like a dagger to his heart.

Y/N felt it too, that strange distance growing between her and Connor. It was as if she were living in two worlds—the one where she was with Miles and the one where she could be herself with Connor. The worst part was how she couldn’t ignore the incandescent glow that still flickered between them. Every time Connor touched her, whether to playfully shove her or to comfort her, it sent a jolt through her, igniting feelings she had long buried.

Spring break arrived, and Y/N felt a heaviness in her heart. Miles had left for vacation, and for the first time in months, she had the chance to reconnect with Connor. She found herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. They spent days together, just like old times, but now there was an undercurrent of tension, a whisper of something unspoken lingering in the air.

Their playful banter was laced with a new depth. Connor's blue eyes, once filled with friendship, now seemed to pierce through her soul, making her acutely aware of her own heart's desires. Every laugh, every shared secret felt like a stolen moment in a world where time was running out. All her pains fit right in the palm of his hand, only this time its been promised to another.

One afternoon, they were sitting on the porch, the sun setting in hues of orange and pink. Y/N felt the urge to speak, to lay her heart bare. “Connor,” she started, her voice barely a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he replied, looking at her with that familiar warmth.

“If I were to break up with Miles… would you want me?”

Connor's heart raced, but he felt a cold pit in his stomach. The question hung between them, heavy with implications. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to tell her that yes, he had loved her since they were kids. But he hesitated, aware of the hurt it would cause.

“Y/N, I—” he stammered, but the words died on his lips.

“Just tell me what you feel. If you want me, say it. I need to know Connor because cannot go on like this. Knowing if i’m choosing the wrong guy.” she urged, desperation creeping into her tone.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you to break up with him,” Connor replied, his voice strained. The truth was he was scared—scared of losing her completely, scared of the judgment, scared of everything. Y/N deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with him.

Her face fell, and the silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. “I- I just thought you wanted me, you’ve shown all these signs Connor I- I mean you’re constantly fuming when I mention Miles. You’ve been so different since we started dating. I guess I was just hoping you were feeling what I wanted you to feel.” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

“No- yes- I do want you, so so much. I love you. I- Since we were six Y/N, even younger maybe but…” He stuttered off, frustration boiling within him. “You’re with him though. You deserve him. I can’t be get in the way of that.”

Y/N took a step back, the weight of his words crashing down on her. “So, you’d rather just watch me with him? It wouldn’t be your fault Connor, and on top of that you dont get to choose what’s best for me! What’s best for me is you, what’s best for me is the one I’ve seen grow into the man of my dreams. I just don’t get what you’re saying… Is this some tactic to spare my feelings because you don’t reciprocate them?” she asked, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Connor couldn't answer. Instead, he stood there, feeling powerless, watching as she turned away. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, but the moment slipped away, leaving behind a chasm that felt impossible to bridge. He had chose to sit and watch what would become of them.

When Miles returned from vacation, Y/N felt a shift in her heart. She tried to push away the feelings she had for Connor, convincing herself that what she had with Miles was real. They laughed, they went on dates, and slowly, the laughter echoed, filling the void that Connor had left. But deep inside, she felt like she was pretending. Connor was like Ivy growing up Y/N house of stone, he was roots being placed into her dreamland. This all had been the fight of her life and Connor started and ended it for her.

Connor watched all this unfold from a distance as Y/N fell deeper into her relationship with Miles. Every smile she gave him, every moment of joy he witnessed felt like a nail in his heart. He’d made a choice to “protect” her, he felt like if he had let himself become selfish and finally have her he wouldn’t be able to keep up with what she could be having with Miles. The world and everything it Y/N deserved and the inevitable fear he couldn’t give her that and more took a toll on him. But the more time passed, the more it felt like a mistake. He missed her; he missed their conversations, their inside jokes, and the way she would lean on him for support.

Days turned into weeks, and Connor’s heartache only deepened. He watched as Y/N and Miles became more entwined, their shared laughter becoming a bittersweet symphony in his ears. Connor's jealousy festered, but he buried it beneath layers of denial, pushing through hockey practices and late-night games.

He immensely poured himself into his training, using the ice as an escape from the turmoil in his heart. Each slap of the puck, each drill felt like a temporary distraction from the emotional storm brewing inside him. But the more he focused on hockey, the more he realized that nothing could fill the void that Y/N had left.

Every goal he scored was celebrated, but it felt hollow. His teammates cheered, their voices echoing around him, but all he could think about was Y/N’s laughter—how it used to light up his world. She was becoming a distant memory, fading into the background of his life while he stood frozen, trapped in a moment that was slipping away from him.

Meanwhile, Y/N was living a life that seemed perfect on the surface. With Miles,she took trips, attended parties, and found herself surrounded by friends, he was in the room but all she wished to see were Connor’s eyes . In the quiet moments, when the noise of the world faded away, she felt a gnawing emptiness. Connor’s absence was a constant reminder that something essential was missing. The love she had for him was buried beneath layers of confusion and guilt, and she often found herself thinking of him, wondering if he ever thought about her.

One evening, she found herself at a party with Miles. Music pulsed through the air, and laughter surrounded her, but all she could see was Connor’s face, the way he would smirk when they shared a joke. It was overwhelming, and she excused herself from the crowd, stepping outside for a breath of fresh air.

Under the stars, she closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her. Memories of their childhood flooded her mind—sneaking out to stargaze, sharing secrets in the dark, dreaming of futures that seemed limitless. But with those memories came the painful realization that she had chosen to walk away from that bond. As tears streamed down her cheeks, she felt like she was betraying not only Connor but herself.

Meanwhile, Connor stood on the ice, practicing alone long after everyone else had left. The rink was empty, just him and the echo of his skates gliding against the surface. Every stroke felt like a release of pent-up emotions, but it was never enough to drown out the heartache. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N and Miles together—every laugh, every touch—they were constant reminders of the choice he’d made.

The next day, Y/N decided she couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. She reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over Connor’s name. She hesitated, recalling the last time they’d spoken, the look in his eyes when he’d tried to protect her by holding back his feelings. But this time, she wanted to know the truth.

“Connor,” she typed, her heart racing. “Can we talk?”

Connor’s heart leaped at the notification. He hadn’t seen her name in so long; it felt like a lifeline. But then doubt crept in. What if she was just going to tell him that things with Miles were great? That she was happy? But he couldn’t ignore the glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

They agreed to meet at their favorite spot—the park where they used to spend countless afternoons. As Y/N approached, Connor felt a whirlwind of emotions crash over him. She looked beautiful, but there was a sadness in her eyes that mirrored his own.

“Hey,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Hey,” he replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Y/N took a deep breath. “Explain it to me, I’m racking my mind constantly Connor as to why you claim to have loved me for years but don’t want to be with me. Look at how confusing this is from my perspective Connor please I’m begging you.”

Connor’s heart raced. “ I can’t-”

“Connor, please let me finish,” she interrupted, her eyes pleading with him to listen. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that what I have with Miles is enough, but every time I laugh with him, I hear your voice. Every time I’m with him, I feel like I’m hiding a part of myself.”

His chest tightened as he realized she was struggling, just as he had been. “Y/N… I never wanted to put you in this position. I thought I was doing the right thing by stepping back, but it’s killing me. You deserve everything and only what I can say is the best life and I got scared that I couldn’t give you what you deserve. And as much as I wish it was me but Miles is a good guy, great future, loving family. Everything you should have. I didn’t want you to loose all that because you felt guilty for me feeling like this towards you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” she asked, hurt evident in her tone.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of losing you completely. I thought if I stayed quiet, you’d eventually learn you’d be happier with him.”

“Happy? Connor, I’ve been a mess. I tried to move on, but you’re always there. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Connor’s heart soared, but it was also heavy with fear. “What does that mean for us?”

Y/N stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “I don’t know. But I know I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she continued, “I thought I could make things work with Miles, but every time I’m with him, I’m reminded that you’re the one who truly understands me.”

He reached for her, wanting to pull her close, but hesitated. “But what about Miles? He cares about you.”

“I know, and I feel terrible for what this will do to him. But I can’t keep living a lie. It’s you I want, Connor. You’re my best friend, my heart.”

At that moment, everything that had held him back melted away. “I’ve always loved you,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and it’s tearing me apart to see you with someone else.”

The tears spilled over, and Y/N closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around him. “Then let’s figure this out together.”

In that embrace, the weight of their past lifted, replaced by the flickering hope of what could be. But both of them knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges. They would have to confront their feelings, navigate the consequences of their choices, and ultimately, find a way back to the love they had always shared.

Yet as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt a flicker of light in the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, they could rebuild what had been lost and create something even stronger. But the lingering shadows of doubt remained, reminding them that the road to healing was never straightforward.

[marauroon]

best friend james figuring out he actually has feelings for the reader??????

I G N O R A N T — JAMES POTTER!

james potter x fem!reader | fluff | 1.2k | masterlist!!

ignorance is bliss. or that’s what james keeps telling himself anyway.

cw — one singular mention of james having a suggestive dream

an — this kinda sucks lol sorry

James often found himself finding excuses to touch you any time the two of you were together.

He’d been physically affectionate his whole life, a product of the amount of loving he was given by his parents, but when Sirius and Remus were complaining about him being so touch-forward with them—even if it was light-heartedly—it made him feel a little bad.

So he always came back to you.

He’d hug you from behind, pulling you tightly to his chest, or find reasons to be close enough he could take your hand in his.

It made him feel a little confused sometimes—the way he craved being near you every second, how his heart would race when you walked through the door of the common room.

No one made him feel the way you did, and no one ever would.

As the ‘loud’, playful kid who never took anything seriously, the way James craved your affection and acceptance was almost foreign, yet it’d become such common place that there were times where he didn’t even blink at its abnormality.

James just needed you, in a way that had become very apparent to everyone in the Gryffindor tower by the time the two of you were in sixth year.

When the two of you were alone, especially, things often got more affectionate and intimate.

Subtle touches lingered longer as the years went on, a casual arm laid over your shoulder sliding down to rest at your waist, him brushing your hair absentmindedly out of your face progressing into chaste kisses at your temples.

There was nothing innately romantic about it, even as your bodies laid together with James’ hands resting on the small of your back and in your hair. Your eyes closed, his glasses crooked on his nose, always ending with one of you pulling away when the lines of friendship became a little too blurred.

And then the cycle would begin again.

You would laugh, push him away, both of you would make a joke about how long you’d just ‘spiced up your friendship’, and it would repeat. Over and over.

James had never pushed for more, never let his hands wander too far or his lips to dip below your cheeks. There wasn’t anything to rush about. The two of you had a pace, and you stuck to it.

A slow, devastatingly languid pace that managed to fit you both perfectly.

James’d tried getting into casual relationships before, to redirect his inherent need for you onto somebody else, but it was always too rough, to rushed, like the only end goal was get the two of them out of their clothes as quickly as possible. He didn’t like that kind of relationship. It just felt wrong to him.

So he found himself going back to you – always.

He didn’t like anyone more, no one made him feel the way you did. So who cared if what you had was a little outside the ‘traditional boundaries’ of friendship? The two of you were close, best friends.

You just happened to need each other.

The two of you made a promise when you’d started to add kisses into your ‘friendship’, that no matter what happened between you two, you would always be friends first and foremost.

James would never be anything less than your best friend, he couldn’t — he cared about you too much, and just the thought of losing you, losing his best friend, made his stomach twist like someone was wringing his insides out.

The Marauders? They were a great distraction, but the other three could never compare to you.

Sirius knew he was as gay as rainbow and was completely out, Remus already had a very ‘colourful’ love life, and Peter had his fair share of crushes from time to time.

James had none of that, he just had you.

But that was all that he needed.

You’d never know he’d started to look at you a little differently anyway, James prided himself on having a perfect poker face, almost as good as Sirius’, if not better at times.

So you’d go back to being the best of friends, and James would ignore how his heart beat faster anytime you were alone together, or how his thoughts strayed to your lips whenever there was a moment of silence.

He couldn’t imagine being without you.

It was just a fact.

The sky was blue. Fire was hot. You and James Potter were destined to be a pair.

Because if he didn’t have you, his beautiful, kind, brilliant best friend, he didn’t know what he’d do.

So the two of you continued as usual, you shared jokes, played pranks together, played with each other in the corridors when the marauders were around, and shared chaste kisses and cuddles when you were alone.

You were best friends, and you always would be.

Because that’s what it was.

A friendship.

The two of you weren’t ‘dating’ and, despite Sirius’ teasing that it was only a ‘matter of time’, it would never be anything ‘more’ than that.

You knew it. James knew it.

Because you’d promised each other. The two of you were friends above everything. Just friends.

Best friends, who knew everything about each other.

James knew what you ate for breakfast everyday, what time you showered, when you slept and how to wake you.

And you knew James’s exact routine after a bad day - what music he played when he didn’t want to think, when he needed company and when he wanted to be alone. You could count the number of times you’d seen James cry on one hand, but you’d been there to dry his tears every time he had.

You were a part of each other, two people who’d fit so perfectly together everyone around you expected you to just ‘click’ eventually and start dating, but you’d never considered it.

You were fine as you were, as best friends with an affection that bordered on being more, it was comfortable. Safe.

Even if James started to wake from increasingly detailed dreams of you, panting and blushing, with heat coiled tightly in his stomach.

He never thought about it.

He’d continue to live in his ignorant bliss just to keep your friendship going, and that was more than okay by him.

Because who cared that James Potter was in love with his best friend?

Not him.

It was just better for him, healthier for him, to stay ignorant of the true depth of his feelings for you and enjoy the friendship the two of you shared. It was better than losing you.

It was easier to just keep things platonic, to laugh about the jokes Sirius made about the two of you ‘being something more’ and ignore the way his heart raced whenever he felt your breath against his skin as you whispered in his ear, and it was easier to act as though your heart didn’t flutter whenever James would wrap his arms around you and press you tightly to his chest.

Ignorance was bliss. And the two of you were revelling in it like it was the only thing keeping you alive.

[predestinatos]

inside me | CL16 ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🗝️.♡

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc × fem!reader 

summary: feelings aren't something charles and you talk about. especially not when you're tipsy in a club bathroom. chapter 3 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, more jealous!charles, i never get tired of writing it, smut, sexual content, cursing, some progress in vulnerability sort of? not much, angsty-ish but soft? ending.

word count: 5.4k

📎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ minors dni !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), sort of rough sex, sexting, this is soo filthy, unprotected sex, creampie.

note: okay so! i got a bit carried away while writing this, clearly being so much bigger than usual, but it's to compensate for my 4-day absence which will surely delay the next chapter a bit!! thank you again so so so so!!!!! much for the good comments and support, it genuinely makes me very very happy. hope you like this one!

“Two more tequila shots, please” Oscar shouted to the bartender, the music muffling his voice and your thoughts.

The two glasses appeared before you, its content calling to your dizzy mind. Dropping the salt in your hand, you prepared for the countdown. Oscar looked flushed and giddy, already a bit tipsy, just like you. His cheeks were a soft pink and his eyes were constantly in a smiling expression, which spread itself to you. “A toast to a very good friendship” he said, laughing, as you clinked your cups against each other, licked the salt off of your hands, chugged the drink and placed lemon in your mouths.

Oscar and you had kept going out. You enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other and overall just existing together. Of course, one of those nights you two had to have the talk you dreaded to have. Curiously, it was Oscar who started, his words spilling very fast and messily, although they could be condensed to a simple “I think we’re just friends.” You were totally okay with that. It simplified your life, and Oscar’s following proposal just made it even better. “That doesn’t mean we can’t… have fun together, though. If you’d like to.” And that was your relationship with him – purely a fun one, a jokingly flirtatious game where none of you had your hearts broken because there was nothing to break apart from a few glasses.

So, after many shots and funny faces at the taste were exchanged, here you were, dancing with him enthusiastically, your bodies jumping and touching and having fun.

You were surrounded by people you loved – Oscar, your friends, everybody at that club – and that loved each other in that moment. Your friends got along beautifully with Oscar, and you even saw some potential for deeper relationships with this one girl, so you were happy, insanely so. Except for one thing: the pair of eyes looking at you from you and your friends’ tables.

As much as you tried moving further away, enjoy yourself and drink away the burning hot sensation on the back of your head, you couldn’t. Charles’ gaze wouldn’t leave your body, filled with rhythm and loose, but contrastingly so tense from his eyes.

You knew Charles was coming. But you thought he would be calm about things, take them lightly and not care much, given the fact that you and him were in very weird territory. It was now hard to hide from your friends that something was going on – the snarky remarks had turned more like innuendos and inside jokes that made you blush, and there were only so many nights where, for some reason, only the two of you couldn’t make it. Apart from those two instances, your relationship with Charles hadn’t been physical again. Some texts were exchanged, sure, but neither of you knew what you were doing; you were ice skating on very thin grounds, which threatened to break at any given moment. It was a matter of who was going to take the hardest step.

“I’m pretty sure Leclerc is into you” Oscar started, laughing at something that wasn’t particularly funny were it not for the alcohol in your system. You laughed back, throwing your hands around his neck and letting your mind run through all the thoughts compressed in your head, all the sounds and sensations surrounding you. “You’re friends, why don’t you ask him?” you replied in his ear, hoping he would hear you, or maybe even guess what you were saying. Pulling away to look into his eyes, you saw him shaking his head in a negative motion, the tipsy smile in his pink lips “he would murder me if I even got remotely close to him.” You both bursted out laughing again, shrugging carelessly at the ridiculousness of it all. “No it’s just… he hasn’t stopped staring at us and I doubt it’s because he finds me attractive” the Australian continued, nodding his head towards where Charles was sitting. Unapologetically, you two stared at him, who also unapologetically refused to break eye contact. Holding a beer in his right hand, eyebrows furrowed and shirt sleever pulled up, he looked angry. Yet, he also looked attractive, his gaze dark and possessive, his left hand tense and his jeans hugging his legs perfectly. He raised his bottle towards the both of you as in a friendly excuse of a toast, or even recognition of your existence as something other than 2 nuisances. You nodded again in recognition, a peace treaty that was sure to be broken sooner than later.

As you turned around to keep dancing, you saw Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, amazement and amusement all at once. “What?” you asked, nervous. Before he could even answer, Charles was behind you, half yelling, half whispering, not to you, but to Oscar. “Can I borrow her for a second?”

In his drunkenness, but also his own enjoyment, he merely nodded gleefully, winking at you as Charles gripped your arm softly as if to assure you you were fine, or as fine as you could be in that moment.

The bathroom was tight. Very tight. Or maybe it was spacious but simply felt like it, when Charles was so close to you, his grip on your arm tight but not angry in the slightest. It also felt hot, burning and scalding, like being too close to the sun, yet you knew for sure they had AC and it was on. Releasing your arm, Charles pulled away from you only to lock the door of the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, laughing drunkenly at the stupidity of it all. “You’re gonna drive a lot of people mad by doing that” you tell him while fixing your hair as best as you could. You notice his body stiffening at your words and how they mockingly leave your lips, and even though he is currently not close to you at all, you still feel him on every inch of your skin when he lowers his voice and says “you’re driving me mad.”

Perhaps because you were drunk, you giggled ironically. Not only was the situation frustrating to the point of laughing, it was clear you had the upper hand in this case, with Charles’ voice and expression finally showcasing more vulnerability than usual. “And why is that, Charlie?” you ask, keeping the mocking tone that was getting to him even more this time. With the question, you dared to walk closer to him slowly, not taking your eyes off of his face. His jaw tightened and he looked away, his brain seemingly as loud as the muffled music outside. For a few seconds, you remained like that, in silence, your defiance and his stubbornness fighting quietly. Upon his clear refusal to answer, all you could do was shrug, “that’s what I thought.” You start walking towards the door, but his tall frame stops you before you can get to it. You are, again, so close to him, feeling his scent, alcohol and expensive perfume, but not his touch, for his hands remain by his side. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving if you want,” he started, his jaw tense as he licked his lips. “Then answer me” you demanded.

It wasn’t even that big of a question, you just wanted to hear him admit that he was jealous, even though he had no right to be. You wanted to see where this conversation would go, if you could finally put an end to this game you two were playing, as painful as it was for you to end it. You knew deep down the reason why he didn’t answer was because that meant exactly that – it meant talking about feelings, about rules, about labels. And neither of you were ready to do that. You realized then that you were placing on him the weight of it, cowardice filling you even in drunkenness.

Running a hand through his hair frustratedly, he moved his feet to let you move towards the door, unblocking your passage. You suddenly felt cold, his frame not hovering yours anymore, and that gesture held more vulnerability than any other he had ever done in the past. So, because you were slightly drunk, or maybe in spite of it, you pulled him towards you and kissed him.

His whole body relaxed against you, letting out a frustrated and hungry breath. By now, his hands and lips felt familiar yet new all at once. Your heart raced as if it was all novelty, yet you knew it wasn’t, for you had been craving them for so long. The way he was kissing was new, however. It always seemed to be, every time you two met again, for he seemed to place more and more feeling and less and less thought into his kiss, his lips moving against yours in a needy, almost desperate way, much different from the previous arrogance he possessed.

He let out a breathy whimper against your lips, and you realized then how completely yours he was. You pulled even closer against you, his shirt collar feeling hard contrasting with his soft hands on your body, wrapping your legs around his waist as he placed you on the sink. The coldness of the sink causes you to hiss and then laugh to yourself amidst the kiss, to which he too lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m serious, you do drive me mad” he suddenly said, bringing both of your thoughts back to that which you were trying to avoid. You looked down at the already visible bulge in his jeans, and your eyebrows raised before looking back up at him – “I can tell.”

Charles suddenly looked shy, not expecting your bluntness, and he looked away to compose himself. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on your leg softly, to which you responded by biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes at the feeling. “You really want to talk about that?” he replied to your previous comment, his cockiness coming back as fast as it had disappeared upon realizing how turned on he made you feel by simple touches.

Feeling brave, playful, or overall crazy, you grabbed his other hand and brought it to your lips. You kissed each of his fingers carefully, not hiding your pleasured face as you felt his gaze darken at the sight of you. His grip on your thigh suddenly intensified, this time as an attempt to calm himself down, though it was clear he couldn’t do so successfully. Charles was already going absolutely insane over the view he had, but then you brought his hand to your cheek and placed his thumb on your open mouth. He inhaled sharply, in lustful anticipation, before you closed your lips around him and sucked his finger while looking up at him. “F-fuck… don’t do this to me” he breathed, his head cocked to the side, both desperate and demanding. You took his finger off of your mouth to reply, leaving your mouth smeared with saliva that he spread across your lips as you muttered “why not?”

With the question, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, your back pressed hard against him, feeling his heartbeat racing and his cock against you. His hand flew to your hair, pulling it so you could see yourself in the mirror, as the other went back to the position it was before, thumb pushing forcefully inside your mouth. “Look at yourself. You look so fucking hot. You can’t do this to me, not when I’m so so mad at you” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your body, as he pushed himself against you harder, causing a moan to leave your lips. “What?” he mockingly asked, his eyes pierced on yours through the mirror, a dark smile spreading across his expression.

Everything Charles did hit you with a force a thousand times higher than anyone else. It was the years of accumulated tension that culminated in this incessant need for each other – and it didn’t seem to be fulfilled any time soon. So when Charles released his grip on your hair and removed his hand from your lips, you felt betrayed and disappointed, your underwear soaking wet but unsatisfied. “We’ve had enough fun for a night, you’re drunk” he said, tapping your shoulder carefully as if you were a child.

This sudden change in behavior managed to not only anger you, but also hurt you deeply. It felt like treason, of the highest sort – the way he suddenly seemed to care about your state actually, paradoxically, seemed like the meanest thing one could do in that situation.

“I was drunk the night in my house, too” you replied, your anger coming out of your voice and suffocating any attempts of the hurt from being noticeable. Charles merely closed him eyes softly, taking a deep breath. “We were both drunk. We were both impulsive” he said, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

His words hit you like a punch in the stomach, making the music stop, at least in your ears, in your mind, in your body. You raised your eyebrows at him, and you wanted to scream, to yell at him, to hurt him back. And you knew the only way to do so was by doing the total opposite of what you felt like doing – “okay” – was the only word that escaped your lips as you made your way out of the bathroom, back into the noise, the drinks, the distractions.

You went home afterwards, your mind spinning and your body too exhausted to keep going. Oscar had dropped you off at home, already sober enough to drive (at least way more than you were), but not before listening to the whole story of What Is Going On Between You and Leclerc, his mouth hanging open during the whole journey. His goodbye was said through a kiss on the cheek and a “don’t show up to races with me anymore, I have to win!”, which made you laugh despite it all.

You now laid in bed, comfortable pyjamas on and too tired to take your makeup off despite the constant warnings from everyone that you should do so. You tried convincing yourself you’d do it later, knowing fully well the most probable scenario was you falling asleep just like that, but it didn’t matter. Your TV was on, something was playing in the background but you weren’t particularly watching it, for your head was still spinning.

The attention you weren’t paying at all was interrupted by your screen lighting up, which normally you would ignore, were it not for its content, and, more specifically, who had sent it.

Charles (Asshole): whre are you (3:12am) Charles (Asshole): cna we talk??? (3:12am)

You shouldn’t answer, in fact, you were tempted not to. However, his texts clearly revealed he was not sober in the slightest, and as much as you hated to admit it, you cared about him. Upon some minutes with your fingers hovering the keyboard on your screen, you replied.

You: home. pls call an uber (3:14am) Charles (Asshole): on my wya. i did. im not taht stupod (3:15am)

The wait seemed hours long. You sat there, before deciding to get some water for yourself, and also for him, who definitely needed it more than you did at this point. You checked how decent you looked in the mirror, and despite frowning a bit at the messy aspect of your comfortability, you decided it did not really matter given the state Charles appeared to be in.

Those suspicions were confirmed after a very badly typed “I’m outside” text, which you decoded well enough to open the door. You were greeted with Charles wearing a giddy smile, his eyes partly glossy and his cheeks red. He seemed unbelievably content, more than usual, and you knew it was because of the alcohol in his veins, his thoughts, his whole body. You stood aside to let him in, and without ceremony, he sprawled across your sofa. “Good memories in here” he started, his voice dragging, stumbling across some words, and finishing with silly giggles.

You merely rolled your eyes at him, despite how endearing he now appeared before you. Sitting next to him on the couch, you felt his head resting on your lap, which, surprisingly, did not ignite your need to protest. Instead, you instinctively caressed his hair, soothing him and yourself at the same time. He let soft murmurs escape his lips, and tried closing his eyes for brief moments. However, he quickly opened them, “God, it spins even more with my eyes closed” he said, bringing his hand to his brow.

“You should drink some water” you said, attentively. Charles looked up at you, his eyes shining with intoxicated passion, and his hand caressed your face softly. “You’re so pretty” was all he could say in reply to your suggestion, a reply which further confirmed the need for him to fulfill that task.

You carefully urged him to sit upright, which he did despite some protests, and brought the glass of water to his lips softly. You watched him gulp the liquid as it dribbled a bit from his chin towards his neck, and you shamefully looked away, images of other much different nights surfacing in your head.

You allowed yourself to look back upon hearing his satisfied “ah” and feeling the weight of the cup decreasing to its minimum. With this, you noticed his shirt unbuttoned, more than usual, and as he sat back, his chest almost fully exposed to you. Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, and you bit hard, holding back whatever feeling was going through you, which you refused to name despite it all. He was drunk, you were not sober, you two had nothing, it was not the time.

You couldn’t help but make a comment though, “I see you didn’t let me ruin your fun” – you tried to joke, but it sounded more petty than you had intended. He looked towards his shirt, then back up at you, before letting out a loud laugh and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, well, I wanted to take you off my mind. Clearly it didn’t work.”

There it was. The thin line you both didn’t want to cross. Frustratingly, the only times you were close to doing so had to be under the influence of alcohol, making it impossible to discern what is meant and what is blurted out. Because of this, you merely shrugged off a laugh, and remained in silence, looking down.

You felt and heard his body shifting closer to yours from behind, his hands making his way towards your shoulders and neck, massaging them softly. You let him, enjoying the feeling, needing it way more than you thought – either the massage itself or the simple feel of his touch, you couldn’t say. At first, his touch was light, almost hard to feel, like a soft breeze on your bare skin. However, slowly, his hands started applying more pressure, getting more greedy with their movements, as if consuming all of you.

His warm breath hit your neck and ears, the sensation causing your vision to completely blur. It impressed you, how despite being drunk, he seemed to know exactly what to do to push you to the edge. You turned your head back towards his and as is gaze fell on your lips, your heartbeat increased, signals travelling throughout your whole body.

Once again that night, you were aware of how you were the one who pulled Charles towards you, relieving him of the need he had for you like this – not merely with touches, but with a ravenous control and hunger, completely at his display. However, you pulled away, your mind stable enough to know what you were doing – if he already thought you drove him mad, he had no clue what was coming.

His confused expression met your suppressed smirk, and before he could protest, or at least question you, you spoke. “You’re drunk. Don’t want to be impulsive,” and with that, you got up and quickly went to your room, coming back with a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, which you threw on the sofa. “You can sleep here. Those are Oscar’s,” you were aware you didn’t have to say that, but at that point you realized there were no rules to this game anymore – everything counted. “Goodnight”

You turned away, leaving Charles processing what had happened in those minutes, how things shifted so fast. You felt satisfied with the control you had over him, the payback for what he had done, yet you couldn’t deny the frustration only increased as well. It took so much of you to pull away, to not give yourself up completely to him, especially when you knew how good he felt and how much he wanted you.

You sat in bed and turned on the TV once again, trying to drown the pulsating feeling in your core. It was hard to concentrate, knowing Charles was one door away, his warm body so ready to take you. The images running through your mind left you desperate, and you decided to take matters into your own hands – literally.

You slipped a hand down your stomach, inside your shorts, and touched yourself lightly through your underwear. You were embarrassingly wet, and so sensitive that as soon as your hand found its way between your legs, you left out a small moan. You knew it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, yet you brought the other hand to your mouth impulsively and timidly.

As if guessing, your phone lit up once again, with a couple of texts that left you speechless.

Charles (Asshole): im tryign my best not to go there adn ruin you (4:02am) Charles (Asshole):  but youre making it so hard fro me (4:02am)

You couldn’t move – at least, not anything but your hand, drowned between your legs, frantically moving in unconscious and needy desire. You simply stared at the text, biting your lip to prevent any noise from coming out of. As you stared at it, you saw the three dots that told you he was typing more. Your eyes flew to the door, as if you could see through it towards the living room, where Charles was lying, typing these messages to you. The thought of him behind that door got you lightheaded, feeling utterly drunk again.

Charles (Asshole): i know youore reading these (4:04am) Charles (Asshole): if you want me to, ill sotp (4:04am)

Upon that last text, which wasn’t a threat in the slightest but which you interpreted as such, given the urgency in which you needed him to continue, your hand flew to your phone, immediately typing a response.

You: dont stop (4:05am)

It was hard, typing with only one hand, the other occupied trying to replicate Charles’ own touch, and to make matters worse, you couldn’t think straight. Typing those simple words took more time than you cared to admit or wanted, and you knew he wasn’t dumb to not have realized that. That simple request you made boosted his confidence to reply in a manner that immediately hinted that he knew what to do, that he now felt like he had free reign.

Charles (Asshole): why not? (4:05am)

You couldn’t see him, yet you knew this question wasn’t innocent, you knew he was on the other side completely pleased with himself, a smile sprawled across his pink lips.

Charles (Asshole): asnwer me princess (4:06am)

The nickname, even when used to get under your skin – or maybe because of it – set you over the edge completely. You had been holding your composure for so long that this simple word made you whimper, this time loud enough to know he had heard it.

Charles (Asshole): fuck that was so hot (4:06am) Charles (Asshole): i want you so bad (4:07am)

You were now filled with ecstasy, your walls begging for him to fill you, your head swimming in overwhelming arousal. So, you decided to do what you were meant to do since you first placed your lips on his: keep playing.

You: prove it (4:08am) You: i dare you (4:08am)

That text was all it took for Charles to completely unleash himself, getting up from the sofa and moving towards your bedroom, opening the door with urgency, finding your body outlined by the television lights.

He had changed, somewhere in between your trip to your room and his first text, but only partially – he stood, shirtless, before you, standing at the feet of the bed as you looked up at him, your face leveling his waist area.

You licked your lips instinctively, and for a moment time stood still between him and you, his chest rising and falling deeply, his muscles tense with need. Charles broke that spell by placing his index finger carefully on your chin, raising your gaze towards his and stilling it there. You swallowed dry, lustfully. “Show me what you were doing before I came in” he demanded, roughly this time. In fact, his hand remained there, forbidding you from breaking eye contact, as you lifted your arm and brough it downward, back between your legs. “Were you thinking about me?” he asked, voice growing deeper, more imperious. You nodded, as best as you could with the pressure of his hand on your face, now carelessly holding all of you in it. “Use your words” Charles continued, his erection visible, directly in front of you, so desperate, so conflicting with how he seemed so composed and dominant. “Yes” you replied. Yet, this did not satisfy him in the slightest. His grip on you tightened, and a tsk escaped his lips as he shook his head negatively.

Your hand started moving faster, one finger now dipping inside you, which Charles did not fail to notice, but pretended to be unaffected by. Without warning, he pulled down his sweatpants, followed by his boxers, just enough to expose his erection fully to you. Letting go of your face with violent affection, he now gripped your hair as he held his cock in front of you. “Let’s give those pretty lips some other use since you don’t want to talk” he whispered, his tip now caressing your lips. “Open, princess” his tone was commanding, completely new yet so dangerously arousing. You promptly obeyed, shocked yet completely vulnerable before his own desire.

At first, Charles merely played with you, frustrating your desire to have him in his mouth, despite the fact that it frustrated him in the process as well. His grip on your hair got tighter and tighter, as this teasing game was clearly driving him insane. In a swift and quick movement, he placed himself fully inside your mouth, the warmth and wetness causing his body to shudder completely. You swallowed around him, feeling his desperate push to take more of him in. As you removed your hand from in between your legs to hold yourself on his thighs for support, he grabbed it, bringing it back to where it was. “Don’t fucking stop” he growled, almost incoherently. Having him fully inside your mouth, your nose so close to his navel, and hearing his authoritarian tone, caused a cry to escape your lips. You could barely think, let alone speak, now two fingers buried inside your wetness.

Charles movements were rough as he fucked your mouth relentlessly, your name leaving his lips as if in a chant, as you kept holding his gaze. “Tu es tellement doué pour ça, putain” French once again escaping his lips, giving away his lack of self control, as he unleashed himself completely to his desire. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyes teary with the pleasurable strength he was using with you, and you felt yourself close to coming.

Charles himself was close, but did not allow himself – nor you – to continue. Pulling out of you quickly, leaving saliva all over your now darkened and swollen lips, he did not hesitate to push you down on your bed, climbing on top of your body.

Impatiently, he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear off, whilst you pulled your shirt above your head, completely bared to him. Harshly and lusciously, Charles slammed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out to prepare you for him. “So ready for me, fuck” he whispered, more to himself than for you, yet not caring if you heard it.

His already sweaty body shone in the near darkness of the room, satisfaction spread across his focused expression as he saw how your body yearned for his. Removing his fingers from inside you and placing himself between your legs, he pushed in inside you, his hardness filling you up completely. Your back arched instantly with bliss as your legs wrapped around him in an attempt to feel him even closer, as if such was possible. You were trembling from his scent, his breath and the sounds of your bodies on each other. His movements were fervorous and electric, a fast pace which burnt your vision and set your body aflame.

“Charles” your voice begged, as he continued his movements. Your voice worked on him as a reminder of how mad he was when it came to you, how much he needed to take his desire out on you, his jealousy released with each thrust. “Does anyone fuck you as good as me?” he asked, eyes closing slowly from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You let out a crying “no” as he grunted, his face now buried in your neck, biting it hard.

A crazy thought crossed his mind, one which was more common than he could admit, one that he thought about frequently in the darkness of his room or even when he was trying to distract himself with anyone else – the thought of filling you up, claiming you as his. This was enough for him to be close, as your moans filled the thick air, and he felt so good inside you, enough to feel intoxicated by it.

“You’re mine” Charles let out, incapable of containing himself. His words caused your whole body to convulse with shockwaves of pleasure as you repeated “I’m yours” into his lips, his neck, your nails drawing patterns on his back. His hisses of pain and pleasure revealed how close he was himself, and he positioned himself in order to be able to look at your satisfied and sensitive expression of complete bliss. Charles erupted inside you with a final thrust that made you see fireworks, as the thickness of the air reached an all time high.

After a few seconds of chests rising and falling, breaths being caught and thoughts becoming clearer, Charles pulled himself out of you and laid next to you in your bed, grabbing the remote as he caressed your arm softly.

That movement, the familiarity and comfort of it, how different it was from the uncertainty of what you two were, to the nature of your ‘relationship’, to you still filled with his cum, suddenly made you want to cry.

You wished he would leave, complete the final act so you can repeat it soon, so things didn’t get complicated, complex and hard for you to do anything about. The frustration was enough for you to get up with a “I’m going to take a bath” in a tone he recognized – somehow – as unlike you.

Getting up from his seat, he followed you into the bathroom, where you stepped into the shower and turned the water on, ignoring his presence completely. You kept focusing on the water running down your body, how it resembled his own touch but not as fulfilling, as pleasurable. The sound of the water running incessantly calmed your thoughts, enough so that you could barely hear him come in the shower himself, turning you around so you could face him.

His expression was tender but nervous, aware of something floating along with the vapor of the warm water, fogging the mirror. Yet, he pulled him to you in an embrace in which you two remained for long, longer than maybe it was supposed to, longer than for it to be considered normal. Pulling away, his lips fell onto yours gently, in a kiss that possessed more words than both of you cared to admit.

You knew, then, that was all he could give you in that moment. And you did not know how to feel about that.

@cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (IV)

Chapter 4: First Time

Hello!! Here is a new chapter! This is one includes sexual themes, even if no explicit descriptions, so no minors here, please!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2435

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew and you didn’t see each other for a few days. You were both busy with work, and an impending fear seemed to hang above the two of you. You were both happy to pretend that you didn’t have time to see each other, it was easier to tiptoe around the line of friendship rather than to cross it for good.

But then Saturday arrived, and with it Andrew’s promise to help you move furniture around your house. You were buying a new bookshelf, and needed to move a couple of things to accommodate the larger shelves.

It was raining, for a change. When Andrew knocked on your door, his hair was curlier than ever, and on its way to get properly drenched. Luckily, you hurried to let him inside the warmth of your house.

“Alright, muscles! Let’s get you dry and warm, and then you can show all that manly strength of yours!” you joked, making Andrew laugh before you had even closed the door behind him.

“Yes, ma’am. I am but your humble servant today.”

It was your turn to laugh. You walked to your kitchen to start a kettle, while Andrew was ridding himself of his wet shoes and coat.

“So, how many muscles will be pulled today?” he asked, walking into your living room to assess the work to be done for the afternoon.

You appeared soon after, carrying two cups of tea; you handed him the one containing two teabags.

“We need to move the sofa, the coffee table, and all the furniture set against this wall,” you explained. “Once that is done, we need to pick up my bookshelf at the shop, and bring it home. We can set up everything now, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Last time we’ve tried to build a piece of furniture together was at Jon’s, and it took us three hours… I expect to be free at nightfall,” Andrew pointed out, but you shook your head.

“No, don’t worry about that. I can assemble the bookshelf on my own.”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You don’t want any help?”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can… I’m asking if you want help.”

“I don’t want to bother you…”

But he merely let out a laugh.

“When did you decide to stop being insufferable?” he joked, making you roll your eyes. “Y/N… I’m here to help, so let me help.”

You grew a little shy, and Andrew tried to ignore the way it made his heart inflate, warmth spreading in his chest at the sight.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course!”

He drank a little bit of tea, before rolling up his sleeves.

“Alright, tell me where we’re putting all these.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

“Pivot! Pivot!”

“I can’t believe you’ve made that joke… Andy!”

“Put it down. Y/N, just put it down, we’ll pick it up again.”

You heaved a relieved sigh as you put down the large cardboard box in your hallway. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow down your heart.

You caught Andrew rubbing his back as you turned to him.

“Okay, next time I need help with something like this, I’ll ask someone my height. Are you okay, Andy?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. You should close your door, and then we’ll lift this up again and get it safely to your living room.”

You managed to get the box in the right room on your second attempt, even if your arms and hands were sore by now.

Building the bookshelf was quicker than expected, thanks to Andrew’s help. He heaved a content sigh once you were finally done.

“Not too bad!” you nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

He leaned back on his hands, admiring your work. You were both sitting on the ground, in the mess of cardboard and spared screws that came with building furniture.

“So… that means…”

“I can buy so many more books…”

He let out a bright laugh, shaking his head at you with a fondness that made you look away.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey! How many books did you buy last time we went to the bookstore together?” you asked back, making him roll his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll have you know my purchases were perfectly legitimate.”

“The first two, maybe. Not the six that came next…”

Andrew laughed again, he couldn’t help it. And it made you break your act, the most beautiful sound in the world…

“Alright, alright. I might have a bit of an addiction.”

“Want some tea before you go?”

“You don’t want help organizing your brand-new shelves?”

“I reckon I’ve bothered you enough for one day.”

“God, stop saying that,” he mumbled, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “You’re never bothering me, Y/N.”

You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart melt, that illuminated his entire world…

… Christ, he was such a desperate case.

“Even when I steal all your chips?”

It made him laugh again, of course, even if it was silly. Perhaps because it was silly. You were adorable like this, sitting on the ground with pieces of cardboard all around, your hair a mess and wearing your most comfortable clothes. Domestic. That’s how the scene looked. It could have been a moment held in a shared home…

He wanted to make a snarky remark, but his heart was too soft, too warm, a little too painful as well.

“Even when you steal my chips.”

Your smile grew more mischievous, and Andrew’s gaze lingered on your lips.

“Now that you’ve admitted that, you’ll never get the chance to eat chips ever again.”

You both chuckled at that, and Andrew leaned closer to you without noticing, sitting straighter again. He didn’t pay attention to the way you leaned closer as well.

“Alright, that is too much. I like you enough to concede… 1% of my chips. Not one more.”

“One?! And you say you like me?” you huffed. “I deserve at least 25% of your chips.”

“You’re never getting one-fourth of my chips. Have I never mentioned that chips are my passion in life? You’ll get 5%.”

“20%.”

“I won’t go above 7%.”

“Come on, 10%...”

You leaned even closer, so close your shoulder was brushing his arm. So close, he could feel the warmth of your breath on his chin as he bent down a little.

He struggled to swallow. The thought crossed his mind that you were barely a breath away, that all he had to do to kiss you was to slightly tilt his head and lean down some more…

When did the temperature of the room rise so much?

When did the playful atmosphere turn into this longing?

“Alright, 10%.”

“Deal.”

You offered him your hand, and he looked down at your open palm. He shook your hand, his so much larger than yours. When he looked up, you were blinking, lips slightly parted. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, decided to let you break your hold on him. But you didn’t. Instead, your gaze dropped to his lips, and you tightened you tightened your hold on his hand. Andrew’s heart skipped several beats, he glanced at your mouth as well. When your gazes met once more, you let go of him, and Andrew blushed furiously, ready to pull away, to pretend that nothing had happened.

But then your fingers were lifted to his cheek, your thumb softly stroking his beard. He blinked at you, holding his breath.

When you leaned up, he could barely believe it.

“Andy?” you whispered, your lips almost touching his.

“Yes?” he struggled to swallow, voice low and deepened by want.

“Are you still okay with… what we discussed the other day? About… our arrangement?”

Andrew tried to speak, but he merely nodded instead.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

But instead of answering, Andrew merely closed the gap between your mouths.

It was as wonderful as he remembered, just as overwhelming, as perfect… a feeling he never wanted to end. A sensation he knew he would never stop seeking if he lost you…

The kiss, this time, quickly got heated though. Andrew’s lips had soon found the sweet spot over your pulse, and he busied himself gently biting on the skin of your neck, before kissing it to sooth the tickling flesh. You were breathless in his arms, hands lost in his hair, gently pulling now and then.

When you started to unbutton his shirt, shivers ran through his entire frame.

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” he asked, voice raw and deeper than you had ever heard, deep enough to make your soul tremble, lust audible in his tone.

His pupils were as dilated as yours when you looked at each other.

You quickly nodded, staggering to your feet.

You offered him a hand, one he knew he couldn’t refuse.

“Just sex, though. We still agree on this?” you asked.

Andrew’s chest tightened, and yet as he looked up at you, your lips reddened with kisses, a mark left by his mouth over the curve of your neck, a lustful look in your eyes… he could never have said no. He would have accepted anything to have you, no matter the consequences for him.

“Yes. Yes, we agree.”

You helped him up, keeping your hand in his as you guided him to your bed.

You were still holding his hand.

There was no sound in the room but your two breaths, heaving across silence, scattering over empty space and furniture and the perspiration across your brow.

Andrew couldn’t look at you yet. His mind was just coming down from its height, from reaching for the heavens and gently landing back into your bed, across the soft cotton sheets that smelled of lilac and you. His thoughts were still a little foggy, a little distant even, hanging above him just out of reach. The dizziness that came with utter pleasure and release was dissipating, leaving some room for the return of realisation and consciousness.

He had sex with you. Andrew had just had sex with you. You had slept with him. And God, what love-making that was…

Your hand tightened slightly around his, and he finally gathered his courage to turn his head on the pillow, blinking and then looking at you.

You were dishevelled, struggling for breath still, your eyes closed. Your bare chest was heaving; he couldn’t help but let his gaze trace your shape, the lines of your skin, the perfect curves of your body, for now still uncovered by the sheets. You looked messy and perfectly content. Glowing in some way only pleasure could bring.

He wished for this to be the only sight he would ever see from now on.

“Wow… that was amazing, Andy…”

His lips curved into a cocky grin.

“So… not as disappointing as expected?”

You chuckled at that, finally turning your head to look at him.

“Barely.”

You exchanged a tender smile, while he raised his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered to cup your cheek, touch gentle, loving even.

“It was amazing for me too, by the way,” he whispered, moving closer, his tone as quiet as a confession.

You leaned closer to kiss him, and you tasted like heaven, something sweet and impossibly you, a taste he would never forget and always crave for…

“Hold me… please,” you asked in a whisper, and he didn’t hesitate as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him. You rested your ear right against his heart, listening to the steady beat of the organ.

You nuzzled into his chest, one of your hands still holding his, the other resting across his stomach where you drew mindless patterns that lulled him into a peaceful state, one he had not reached in years. He bent his head to kiss your hair.

This could work, he thought. None of what had just happened felt like a mere fling, like some meaningless sex. There had been a connection the second your lips met. It wasn’t fucking, it was making love. And now, you were craving for his embrace as much as he was longing for yours. This could work. For now, your life was complicated and stressful. It was okay, Andrew would wait for you to be available again, for you to be ready to give him a proper chance. It would be alright, all he had to do was to be patient. You couldn’t properly date him at the moment, but nothing that had occurred in this bedroom was mere physical attraction. It was more than just sex. You pretending that it was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation… it was temporary. Andrew was not fooled. You were still holding his hand. It would be fine, it was more than just sex… so much more…

He pressed his lips to your hairline.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, and he felt your smile against his skin.

His hold on your waist tightened slightly, before he would move his hand across your back, long fingers splayed across the base of your spine. Feeling your bare skin against his was driving him absolutely insane…

“Let’s take ten minutes like this, and then I’ll clean the mess we’ve made in the living room.”

“An hour.”

You chuckled, pinching playfully his side.

“Quit having such a terrible influence on me, would you? I’ll give us fifteen…”

“Why the rush?” he argued, his eyes closing while his lips were still resting against your skin and he breathed in the blooming scent of your shampoo. “This is nice… let’s enjoy the moment, okay?”

You didn’t say anything, remained quiet, went back to tracing patterns against his skin.

It lasted a few blissful minutes, before you were sitting up.

You let go of his hand.

“I’m gonna go clean up everything in the living room, and reorder my bookshelves. Do you want some tea?”

You weren’t looking at him, as if you were avoiding his stare. Andrew wondered why.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

You hurried back into your clothes, and Andrew grew self-conscious, now that he was the only one still naked. He reached for his underwear as well, then his undershirt.

“You’re alright, baby?”

You finally turned to him.

“Let’s make a new rule. No pet names. Okay?”

He blinked up at you from the bed, taken aback, too much so to stop you from leaving the room.

[greenpurplemylove]

Just Us Two (PJS)🌊

→ masterlist; part 1, part 3.

→ pairings: non idol!jay x female!reader

→ synopsis: skinny dipping at the beach with Jay, post making out at your apartment.

→ genre: friends to lovers! college au, hella suggestive(MDNI), fluff.

-> now playing: Birds Of A Feather, Billie Eilish.

→ warnings: suggestive themes and ending, kissing, swearing, and skinny dipping. if you're a minor pls be mindful of yourselves and scroll. lemme know if I missed anything luvs🫶

→ AN: this is part 2 from my series, yeyy, I do suggest you guys to read the first part to provide some context of what's going on in this story and y'all I'm rly sorry this took awhile cause I rly just kept changing the ideas. I hope y'all enjoy🎀

-> word count: 6,3k.

🌊

The flickering light poll above you illuminated the parking lot around you, its dim light dipped into the front seat of Jay’s car. The smell of hamburgers and greasy fries filled in the scent inside as you chuckled.

Too immersed in each other’s stories to notice the distant hum of the drive-thru speaker and the occasional sounds of cars passing by. He choked a little on his soda, containing his grin as you made a joke about one of your lecturers.

“Y/n, that’s terrible.” he coughed as he put down his drink on the cup holders of his door. You shrugged your shoulders with a grin as you mumbled to yourself. The air inside the car felt comfortable, familiar and safe, it felt like a place where no one could judge you or jay’s actions. A similar feeling you’ve felt all through out your friendship with jay.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” you admitted as you both continued to laugh for a while.

As moments started to pass a wave of silence slowly washed over the two of you as you took a few bites of your fries, watching through the corners of your eyes as cars passed through the drive-thru.

Both of you exchanged glances every now and then, smiles plastered on to your faces, trying to come up with something to say to each other, but failed either way.

Leading to more silence as time seemed to pass by slower, melting into a semi comfortable silence.

There was definitely still some awkward tension in the mix probably due to the fact that a few hours ago you made out with Jay beside your bathroom sink.

But, you were thankful for the familiar and comfortable silence that washed along his car. It made your shoulders a lot less tense than if you were to go on a date with a complete stranger right now.

You glanced at him as he continued to take a bite of his burger, eyes gazing out the window as he did.

You noticed how mesmerizing the side of his face looked like under the poorly lighted parking lot. Even with such poor lighting, he managed to look so handsome; his dark doe eyes gleamed under the moonlight, his cheeks puffed up from the amount of food he was chewing and his lips pouted in concentration as he did.

You smiled to yourself as you took a bite of your own burger, the sound of cars honking in the distance made you snap your gaze away from him momentarily.

“By the way.” Jay broke the silence making you turn your gaze back to him.

“What do you want to do after this?” he asked as he licked his lips and brushed his thumb over the corner of his lips.

“Honestly, I have no idea.” you uttered lowly as you swallowed your food, struggling to think of a specific place. “But I definitely don’t wanna go back to my place yet.”

“I mean unless you want to of course.” you rushed to say when you saw the mixed reaction Jay had on his face. He only let out a sigh through his grin, glancing at his shoes before looking up to flash you a nervous smile.

“I don’t think I’d want to do something you wouldn’t want to do.” he smiled up at you as his gaze slowly drifted from you, his ears turning into a rather pinkish shade as he took another sip of his soda making you smile, feeling the blood rush up to your cheeks.

You were thankful that he’d always been the understanding person. He’s always been able to make you feel comfortable and relieved in situations where you think feeling them in that moment felt impossible. He was one of those people that made you feel like you were never alone and that there are always people you could lean your back on to.

Just like tea with sugar in it, he was warm, sweet, and kind. Always available when you needed somebody to talk to and always the last person to judge you for your actions.

You feel yourself relax every time the warmth and sweetness of it hits the roof of your mouth. Just like how your muscles would relax the moment it was just you and him, everything that was weighing on your body seemed to just disappear the moment he smiles at you and you smile back at him.

Until, you didn’t know where or when it came to be. But, the sugar that was once in your tea was slowly replaced with rose syrup. The sweetness still lingered at the roof of your mouth, but the aroma and the taste of the tea gradually changed as you feel your relationship with Jay gradually started to take a shift.

The tea that was once just shades of brown, slowly started to be tinted in pink as you start to see him in a different light. A dimmer, more captivating light that made your heart race whenever you were around him.

At first you weren’t used to the unfamiliar taste and you wanted to just focus on the familiar parts which was the sweetness of it all. You wanted to see that his actions towards you were just friendly; just like a friend you knew, just like the Jay you knew.

But once the aroma and the taste got the best of you, you started to accept the gradual change. Succumbing yourself to the scent completely, feeling yourself become addicted to the sweetness and the aroma of the rose syrup.

Just like how you find it addicting to chase this romantic high you have for Jay.

The desire you have boiling in your stomach to want to shower him with romantic affection; to touch him, to hold him, and to kiss him. Your mind would begin to wonder what it would be like to be able to do those things with him. To be able to know if he had felt the same way towards you.

“I have an idea, actually.” Jay spoke as he leaned closer in your ear, his voice gradually getting quieter as her spoke making you furrow your eyebrows at him. “What idea?”

“Do you want to go to the beach?” he asked hesitating at first as he looked at you, shifting his head to the side as he made eye contact with you.

“At this hour?” you questioned as you flashed him a soft smile that made him stutter in his words. “Well, I mean it’s just, I’ve always wanted to know what it looked like at night, so.”

He pointed awkwardly at the night sky as he tried to mimic the sounds and the movement of waves with his arm, which made you chuckle.

“But, you know I don’t want to force you or anything I just-”

“I think I’d like that.” you spoke nodding your head which made him widen his eyes at your words, making eye contact with you in hopes that you actually did wanted to go and not to just force yourself to do so merely for his sake.

You flashed him a grin as you caressed his ear, making it turn into a light shade of red as he couldn’t fathom to form the words that could encapsulate how flustered he was feeling at that very moment.

“Uhm ok then, let’s uhm, let’s go.” He stumbled on his words as a few chuckle slipped from his grin, his ears red as he tried to cover his smile with the palm of his hand.

A chuckled slipped through your grin as he started the car, finding his flustered expression adorable before you turn away from him feeling the blood rush through your cheeks as you giggled silently to yourself.

Your eyes came in to contact for a second and Jay rolled his eyes at your teasing smile. Giggling at his awkward attempt to flirt with you.

“I hate you.” he joked as he threw his used napkins at you making you flinch and gasp dramatically.

“Park Jongseong, how rude of you.” you teased as you threw back the used napkins at him.

You could only roll your eyes and pursed your lips upwards, while he giggled, ruffling your hair with his hand as you sigh, removing his hand from your hair rather forcefully as you flashed him an annoyed smirk.

He let out a chuckle through his grin, sneaking a glance at your pouty face before adjusting the rearview mirror.

As his car glides through the city lights and into the woods, headlights pierced through the cool air of the night and on to the cold concrete of the road.

New wave rock plays through the radio as he hummed along to the songs, eyes latched onto the road as he glanced every now and then at you and the gps on his phone he placed above the speedometer.

You sat there gazing out the window as the city lights slowly dimmed behind you, soon replaced by the sight of the woods at night. With only the moon filtering through its trees and the overhead lights that glinted the road in front of you.

You both shared laughs and random stories with each other as he sneakily slid your open palm onto his, intertwining his fingers onto yours sending sparks into your veins. He smiled teasingly at you as he continued to sing along to the songs the both of you were listening on the radio before going back to look at the road.

You gave him a shy grin, acknowledging his sly demeanor as you looked away, feeling your cheeks turn to a shade of pink.

Sooner or later, as he drove deeper into the woods you finally made it to the shore. The sound of waves crashing from the distance filled in the background as the sight of the ocean waves bellow the starry night sky left the both of you starstruck.

Jay parked his car at a small cliff that overlooked the ocean view that at night. Staring in awe as the moonlight’s radiant glow dipped its light over the waters. Blessing its sight even in the dark of night.

“Wow.” you simply spoke as you rolled down the window, slowly letting the cool midnight wind find homage inside his car.

The breeze traveled from your nose and cheeks to the tips of your hair, closing your eyes, you feel your shoulders start to relax at the sound of the waves crashing into each other.

Soon, Jay also rolled down his window. Feeling the breeze cascade past the tips of his hair as he let out a relaxed sigh through his lips, leaning his head back as he let the breeze consume him whole.

You turn to him, taking in how gorgeous he looked from where you sat. The moonlight dotted his forehead, lips, and tips of his nose. Emitting a captivating glow as the breeze brushed back his hair ever so gently.

There was a gentle warmth to his eyes, mirroring the calm waves that emitted through the dark. His dark brown eyes grow luminous under the reflection of the moonlight, dipping its way into his gaze as his features grow restful.

Your eyes traveled down to his lips, it looked enticing under the stars. Emitting a soft and inviting glow as you feel your body and your heart drawn to it like strings being pulled from inside you.

His lips parted ever so slightly at the sight. A low sigh cascaded through his breath, his worries long forgotten as the soothing sound of the ocean seeps into his shoulders.

A serene silence washed over him as he stared out onto the ocean blue, the muscles in his body relax as he enters a state of calm. He turned towards you as he catches your deep calm eyes on his.

His breath caught in his throat as he watches your eyes widen before turning away from him in a cough, flashing him a shy smile as you looked out into the ocean.

“I take you like the view?” you asked as you pointed out into the ocean. A smile crept onto his face as he watched you.

“Yeah.” he spoke softly as his eyes never left your figure. His smile grew wider as he was taking in the captivating sight of you, engraving it in his memories for the rest of his life.

Calm silence took over as they stayed that way for a while. Taking in the view that surrounded them.

Soon after he’d convince you to sit by the beach with him, he turned off the car with a click of his keys as you both got out of the car. Your body soon greeted by the cool temperature of the rocky cliff as you both walked to the beach hand in hand.

The sounds of the waves grew louder, feeling the ground beneath your feet grew warmer as you dug your feet onto the sand. Letting the tranquil feeling wrap around your body as you stared out onto the ocean.

Eventually, you both found a spot to sit down on top of a small boulder. He extended his hand as he helped you climbed on top of the boulder as he sat down next to you.

There was nothing for the both of you to talk about anymore, and that was perfectly fine. Each others presence and the ocean view sufficed the sullen silence as you laid your head on top his shoulder and he laid his head on top of yours; hands lacing onto each other as the ocean waves echoed in your ears.

“I like this.” he spoke as he rested his chin on top of your head, making you smile as you caressed the palm of his hand. “Me too.”

“You know I love this view as much as the next person does, but what else do people do at the beach at night? You know, besides staring into the ocean.” he pouted his lips as he spoke.

You furrowed your eyebrows in response as you pressed your lips together. “I don’t know,”

“swimming maybe?” you answered as you shrugged your shoulder before removing yourself from his.

“At this hour?” he scrunched his forehead smirking as he looked up at the starry night sky.

“I mean who knows, everybody has the liberty to do whatever they want right?” you asked as you tilted your head at him.

For a moment Jay could only bit his lips as he thinks to himself, sparing a glance at the shore bellow them; his eyes enticed and puzzled. Almost as if he’s considering to say something risqué before opening his mouth.

“So, if I were to just jump into the ocean naked, that wouldn’t be illegal?” he asked as he extended his hand, playing with his fingers as he opened his palm towards the ocean.

“I have no idea.” you shook your head as you looked around you. Hoping that there were no lit houses nor any people doing their activities in sight, which thankfully and oddly enough, no other soul was at the beach and the mountains as far as your eyes can see besides the two of you alone at that very moment.

“But I don’t see anybody here.” you turned to him in a playful smirk as you raised your eyebrows at him. He let out a chuckle through his grin, shaking his head in disbelief at your behavior.

“And what exactly are you planning to do with that information?” he smirked at you as he leaned his face closer to yours as your smile grew wider.

“I mean,” you added as you glanced back and forth between him and the body of water bellow the bolder, insinuating to commit a devious action.

“I’d dare you to go, but I bet you’re too scared to do it.” you uttered as you leaned back and crossed your arms in front of your chest; showing pride with the same smirk still plastered onto your face making him raise his eyebrows at you.

“Y/n, I’m not an idiot, I’m not falling for that.” he spoke as he crossed his arms as well, this time his face leaned closer towards yours, almost as if he’s taunting you through his vaguely soft expression.

“I know you’re not, but what if I told there’s something in it for you?” you offered as he raised an eyebrow at you, leaning his body closer towards you as he pursed his lips.

“Then it better be a damn good offer.” he hugged his legs, tilting his head to the side.

“I’ll jump right in after you.”

“W-what?” he stuttered, stunned by your spontaneous response. A vision of the immediate future came racing into his mind, the thought of him seeing your naked figure for the first time made the blood race from his body right into his ears.

“Yeah, I mean I’ve never done anything like that but besides, there’s always a first time for everything right?” you shrugged your shoulders as you tried desperately to act casual about it, looking up into his eyes as they glimmered under the moonlit sky, making you almost weak in the knees.

Though on the outside you try your absolute best to hold in your composure, but on the inside your heart was thumping out of your chest. Cursing at yourself repeatedly while knowing it was too late to take your words back.

You could feel your blood rushing through the crevices of your smile lines as the wind danced on your skin giving you goosebumps that added to the anxiety you felt at the pit of your stomach.

He definitely thought you were going insane. You were definitely going insane waiting for him to say something.

Shit, maybe I should’ve known better.

You thought to yourself as you bit your own tongue, regretting your actions. You knew that jay wasn’t really the type to act out of his comfort zone and you knew that he always had the highest self dignity amongst all of your friends, rarely doing something that involved adrenaline. Unless of course he was dragged into it.

But, you didn’t want to push him into doing something he won’t usually do. Out of fear that he’s hiding the guilt of being uncomfortable with what you were insinuating. But then of course, at one point, everybody has to step out their own comfort zones right?

You bit the bottom of your lip as you turn away from him trying to come up with better words to brush off what you just said as a joke. That wasn’t until the words slipped pass his lips.

“Ok.” your head snapped at him. Though his words were simple and merely two syllables, it was enough to convey a deeper meaning.

A deeper meaning where he actually agrees with your spontaneous dare even though almost every fiber in his being says no; his heart was beating out of his chest, his shoulders tensed and his palms were almost sweaty as he swallowed a spit down his throat.

But even then, he can never say no to the thrill and excitement of doing something crazy and stupid with you. Not after the kissed he shared with you at your apartment, not with the way you were staring at him like he was crazy and not when the bonus included was being able to take a sneak peak at your naked body. So for you only, he was willing to let himself loose this time.

“Wait what?” you spoke as you turned around to face him untying his shoes, the waves behind you calmed in time as he took off his shoes, a playful smirk plastered on his face. He let out a chuckle at your shocked and bewildered expression, finding it adorable.

All the nerve wrecking feeling from his body was replaced with adrenaline. The anxiousness melting away into excitement as he stole a glance at you. Wishing you could see how much he wanted to take you in his arms at that very moment.

“Jay look wait, are you sur-” your words were cut off as he suddenly closed the distance between the two of you, capturing your lips in his.

The passionate urge he had leaked from his lips to yours, taking you by surprise as he nuzzled his hand on your hair as you closed your eyes, letting the breath taking rush surge over you as leaned your head to the side. Indulging yourself deeper in him as you kissed.

Your hand held on to his forearm for dear life, fearing that you might melt away in his touch as he snaked the palm of his hand from your hair to your cheek, cupping it ever so gently before pulling away from you. Leaving you breathless.

“I’m sure y/n.” he murmured as he caressed your cheek, climbing down from the boulder as you watched him walk towards the shore from above.

Oh fuck me, I’m actually doing this.

Jay thought to himself as he stared out into the ocean view, the waves calmer and the breeze grew settler than when they first arrived.

Removing his jacket and placing it down on the sand, he stole a glance at you as he watched you eye him curiously. Still with the same bewildered expression you had earlier on as he gave you a smirk before unbuckling his belt.

He let out a sigh as he slowly stripped himself from his shirt and jeans. Your heart raced at the sight of his bare skin, a blush forming on your cheeks as you eyed his toned abs, feeling flustered as his eyes met yours.

“Do you mind turning around for a second?” he half shouted, his smirk grew cockier as he caught you staring at his body.

With your cheeks growing hot, you turned around rather abruptly. You swallowed a spit down your throat at the thought of Jay stripping down his underwear spun around your head making your heart thump faster.

You’ve seen him shirtless from time to time, but you never would’ve thought the day finally came where you get to see him naked. Or at least be in a scenario where he is naked and you’re aware of that, though he doesn’t show it.

You had fantasized about him from time to time. What he looked like from the waist under. How it would feel like for you. And more often than not, you become a victim of your own vivid imagination.

The heat between your legs would pulsate as the made up scenarios you made in your head grew stronger through out the day. The sight of seeing him in public made it worse, suddenly all his features seemed so delectable.

His honey like skin intoxicates you every time you look at him from afar. His back muscles lingered in your mind as you wondered what it would look like the next morning, nail marks decorating it from the profanities you’ve committed the night before.

His pretty pink lips that always seemed to gleam an inviting glow, almost as if its begging to latch itself onto yours. Just waiting, longing for you to have every inch of him. It drives you crazy from time to time.

Suddenly, the sound of the waters splashing loudly caught your attention as you turned around, your eyes found ripples in the water right in front of Jay’s discarded pile of clothing. Growing concerned, you hurriedly took off your shoes and climbed down from the boulder as you gazed out into the ocean.

A few moments later, you watch as the ripples in the water grew bigger, watching him resurface from the ocean. The body of water splashed around him as he wiped his face before turning around to face you.

You smile grew wide at the sight of him. Observing him from afar. His dark hair slicked back, clinging onto his head as the water dripped down his bare shoulders. His toned chest rippled under the moonlight as he turned to you with a wide grin on his face. Arms forming ripples across the water as an attempt to keep himself afloat.

“Oy y/n! We had a deal.” he shouted, a lazy grin swept across his face as his eyes glinted with mischief. You chuckled at his playfulness, watching him from afar before removing your top as he eyed you attentively.

Your heart was beating a thousand miles per second as you felt his eyes on you, an anxious feeling lingered at the pit of your stomach as you removed your jeans next. Leaving you in your bra and underwear.

Glancing at his discarded articles of clothing beside your feet. Your eyes widen in realization as it settles on the sight of the white and black band of his underwear.

Holy shit.

You thought to yourself as your heartbeat thumped through your eardrum instantaneously, your face turning bright red and your breath hitched at your throat almost instantly as you looked at him from afar.

“Come on y/n!” he spoke as he waved his arms in the air, your shocked expression turned into a glint, a new rush filled inside your chest. The stomach churning feeling turned to adrenaline as you feel every nerve in your body tingled with excitement.

“Turn around!” you shouted from across, cupping your mouth as you did.

His face glinted with excitement and anticipation as he did, facing the view of the open ocean as small waves brushed pass his shoulders.

Your skin shivered with the cool night air, feeling your heart pounding out of your chest as you unclasped your bra and stripped your underwear down, plopping it down on top of the rest of your discarded clothes.

The cold breeze sent shivers down your spine as you stood there by the edge of the water. Your toes digging into the cool sand. The ocean waves brushing against the tip of your toes as you eyed him from afar.

Feeling the adrenaline rush through your veins, goosebumps trickled down your skin, letting a new high take over your body. The quick steps you took turned into a sprint as you feel the ocean sink deeper into your knees, letting out a joyful shout before you dove head first into the water.

Soon after, Jay felt a familiar heat behind him, anticipating you as he felt his heartbeat creep in to his eardrums and his breath hitching in his throat. But just as he turned around, he was splashed by a sudden burst of cold water, catching him off guard as the salty taste of the ocean water lingered in his tongue.

He chuckled in pure bliss as he watched you grin mischievously, your hands scooping a handful of water.

“Oh no you don’t.” he retaliated as he hurled the water at you causing you to squeal.

His laugh echoed with yours, the sounds of water being splashed and hurled around ringed out the waves. The woods and the hills behind you, a silent testimony to your act as the splashing of water got bigger and louder as neither of you backed down from your game. Chuckling as you both reveled in the sensation.

“Ok, ok, fine. You win. You win jay.” you laughed as you raised both of your hands in defeat earning a chuckle from him. The splashes soon came into a halt as they giggled at each other. All of a sudden he swam closer towards you with a mischievous grin on his face making you smile rather nervously, bracing yourself from whatever roguish plan he had in his head.

You closed your eyes shut as he splashed water onto you through his fingertips, earning a giggle from you as he did the same.

As the playfulness between them slowly subsided, it felt as though the world around them slowly began to shift. Their laughter long faded into the night, replaced by the comfortable silence that hung in the air. The waves soothing rhythm echoed their steady heartbeats.

Gravitating towards each other, they both find themselves staring into the open ocean, only an endless stretch into the horizon in sight as the moon dipped its glow over the ocean. The stars dotted the night sky above them, each emitting it’s own light like a flare amidst the dark.

The chill of the water was soon replaced by the warmth that radiated between them, shoulders brushing against each other. Sending an almost electrifying feeling down your spine. Feeling a familiar warmth creep up to your cheeks as you felt the water beside you start to ripple.

“Wow.” he uttered, facing towards the shore. “I never thought I’d see a view like this.”

“Yeah.” you spoke as the waves lapped softly against your bodies, the rhythmic pulse of it mimicking the steady beating of your hearts.

He turned to you, catching the way the moonlight reflected on your face and bare shoulders, reflecting the softness in your eyes and lips. Words couldn’t describe what he felt at that moment. The silence between you being the only thing that spoke louder than any word in the english dictionary.

“Y/n.” he uttered as you turn towards him, feeling as though time had paused for a moment as his gaze met yours. “I like, being with you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed though your gaze still remained soft. “What do you mean?”

A small rift lapped between the two of you as he paused for a moment. The air between you buzzed with a quiet breeze, afraid to rush the anticipation of something they both knew was about to happen.

“I like being with you y/n.”

“I wanna be near you, always y/n. If you’d let me.” he spoke as he leaned in closer towards you, his movements inviting like a letter, waiting for you to open.

“Park Jongseong.” you smiled softly at him as you watch his eyes widen at the mention of his full name. “I’ll always wanna be near you.”

They both stayed like that, floating there smiling and exchanging shy glances at each other, the acknowledgement they had for each other sending ripples of relieve and euphoria as a small wave washed over them. The beach, the ocean, the entire world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for them to move.

The cool water rippled around them as they moved closer to each other. A silent invocation unfolded in front of them, while the world surrounding them seemed to fade into the background.

The playful smiles and giggles subsided as they’ve lost themselves in the depths of each others eyes. Gazes filled with longing and invitation like a bubble on the verge of popping from the overwhelming amount of air inside of it.

With their faces now merely an inch from each other, the warmth of their breaths and bodies mingled together. An intoxicating drug as they felt their hearts beat louder, leaning impossibly closer to each other.

Dipping his head to the side, he closed the last inch between them as their lips met in a soft and tentative kiss. A sigh escaping your lips as he let go momentarily before leaning his head to the other side, deepening the kiss as he cupped your cheek.

The seemingly innocent and unsure kiss grew eager as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers trailing the back of his neck as he gently squeezes your waist. Eyes closed, cheeks flushed and lips intertwined.

The eagerness that was there soon lapped in passion and reckless abandon. Neither of you were selfless enough to pull away, like a battlefront to your lips. The hand that was caressing your cheek soon drifted to your waist, grasping on to it as if you were to slip away from him.

As he enclosed any remaining space between the two of you, you opened your mouth to him as you feel your body surrender to him. Indulging yourself in the surging passion as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Intensifying the eagerness and passion that was already there.

Your bare chest pressed flushed against his as the cool water purls around you, making the feeling all the more electrifying. The passion and hunger washed over your body unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Long forgotten the rippling waters that swayed on your backs as the heat of jay’s body clung to yours like coral reefs to the ocean floor.

The world around you seemed to dissolve, lips and bodies melting into each other, skin against skin. Never did either one of you wanted to let go of each other. In this moment it was just you and jay and no one else could ever take that away from you.

In contrast to the hunger that lingered along the kiss, the gentle nature of the man in front of you appeared as he slowly and gently pulls his lips away from yours.

The whispers of the sea and the gentle lapping of waves were the only thing accompanying you as your bodies remained close. A breathless chuckle escaped your lips as you could only look at each other, chuckling at the intensity of emotions that quickly subsided into amusement.

“Have you always felt that way about me?” you asked as you broke the silence, tracing back the words that trailed from his mouth earlier on.

A moment of silence washed over the two of you as the sounds of the ocean creeped back into your eardrums. What once was a soft boiled down moment of humor quickly subsided back to the air and the tension that was once there at the bolder.

“Yeah.” he simply spoke with a nod. “I’ve always felt that way about you ever since I saw you walking down the halls for the first time.” he confessed.

“Wow.” you uttered. “I guess you’ve been holding it in for longer than I thought.”

“Yeah. But honestly looking at it now, I never regret that I did.” he spoke as your foreheads touched, igniting a chuckle from you as he looked at you in adoration. “I don’t think this night could ever get any better y/n.”

“I beg to differ.” you spoke as you pursed your lips, eyes gazing out into the sky. A playfully dirty scheme planned out in your head as he stared at you in confusion, hands still gripping onto your waist.

“What do you mean by that?” he furrowed his eyebrows as he eyed your expression. You glanced at the shore, specifically the small cliff where he parked his car for a couple of times, but he still couldn’t get it together. It wasn’t until you pocked the inside of your cheek and give him a teasing smile when his eyes widen.

He instantly snapped his gaze away from you, his ears heating up as he smiled flush at the ocean beneath him. The air around him shifted as he finally understood what you were insinuating.

“Wow y/l/n y/n, I never thought you were this perverted.” he teased as he grinned at you, pulling you closer to him until your breasts were pressed against his bare chest, a shit-eating grin on his face as his lips were merely inches apart from yours.

“Oh shut up park jongseong.” you teased as you threw a handful of water at him making him swim slightly away from you, a surprised expression on his face as he wiped the water off of his face, slicking back his jet black hair as you flash him a small grin.

“Do you want me to?” he asked raising his eyebrows at you as the two of you just stood there smiling and giggling at each other. The sounds of the water around you treading being the only thing that ringed in your ear as you nodded at him.

His grin soon melted into a soft smile as he swam closer towards you. In contrast to the serene sounds of waves crashing in the background, you felt your heart beating loudly against your eardrums. As though a restart button hits every time he comes closer to you, making you feel the same jittery, ecstatic feeling over and over again whenever he leans in for a kiss.

He sets his eyes on you, a tint of lust dipped into his gaze as he bit the bottom of his lip. A mischievous idea popped into your head as he dipped his head to the side, slowly closing his eyes. But just before he could close the distance between your lips, you soon pulled away from him with a mischievous smirk plastered onto your face as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Last one to make it to the shore has to top!” you half shouted as you abruptly swim away from him, leaving him there stunned at your sudden actions. Only being able to chuckle and smile at you as he followed you towards the shore.

A sequence of profanities that would unfold became an undeniable promise as the sea, the stars, the moon and the woods became a silent witness as their figures drifted into the night.

[stoneagedevil]

Idiot | Eddie Munson x f!Reader

TW/CW: loneliness.

———

You’d been feeling down about yourself for some time now. You weren’t a cheerleader, but lately you’d been considering attending the tryouts for the semester. You’d even heard that girls in the band’s flute section were getting action from the brass section. Maybe you could pick up another instrument…?

No. No no no.

Christ, when did you become so desperate? Maybe it was all the twitterpated faces floating up and down the halls, what with the dance approaching and all.

But it’s not even like you wanted to go. You weren’t much of a dancer, but rather a person to get rowdy on stage at the Hideout when you played. That led to other thoughts…

You’d met Eddie Munson at the beginning of summer a few years ago. You were enthralled with his performance in his band Corroded Coffin, and he was just as lovestruck when he saw you go up with one of the most badass electric guitars he’d ever seen. After your set, you’d both gotten to talking at the bar - him buying you each a soda since you both had to drive home. That was the start of a wonderful friendship.

And unfortunately for your poor little heart, that’s all it was.

You sighed, taking a drag off a cig you found in your jeans you didn’t remember washing. Thank god for that. You looked over at the cheerleaders on the field practicing their routine from where you sat on the outside bleachers; trying to picture yourself in a cheer outfit mingling with them.

Suddenly you were startled by a loud, thundering metal sound coming from your right, nearly pulling your neck at the speed you looked over. It was Eddie - who just jumped onto the metal bleachers to illicit a reaction from his favorite person.

“Shit yourself?” He laughed, smile making his eye crinkle.

“Har har Munson.” You blew smoke at his face smirking slightly. He waved it away playfully.

“Watcha doin’ up here? Thought I’d find you in the art room, but you weren’t there.” He sat closely beside you.

You flicked the dead ash from the end of your cigarette. “Feelin’ melancholy I ‘spose…” you trailed off, leaning back on the seat behind you and looking up at the sky. Eddie quickly joined you.

“Why’re you sad? Need something stronger than that ciggy?” He reached into his inside pocket on his jacket and dug out a joint.

You eyed it for a second. “Nah. I’d better not.”

Eddie frowned. It wasn’t like you to turn down his premo stuff. It wasn’t like you to isolate yourself - especially away from him. He got nervous.

“Hey, what’s going on? You know you can talk to me, right?” He placed a hand on your knee, causing those stupid butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.

You debated a lot of things in that moment. You debated telling him you were in love with him. You debated shooting up from your position on the bleachers and pulling his face towards yours and kissing him. You debated running away, never to be seen or heard from again.

You took none of these options.

“I’m lonely, I guess. It’s hard seeing people get asked out to dances all of the time knowing that’s never coming to me. I wouldn’t even wanna go, but maybe if someone asked…I would? I don’t know. It’s stupid.” You sat up and looked down at your shoes.

Eddie looked at the side of your face. Maybe if he was brave enough he’d ask. Maybe if he was wealthy enough and you’d said yes, he’d get a suit and get you a corsage. Maybe if he wasn’t the town freak. Maybe in another life.

Maybe.

“Hey, it’s not dumb. I know how you feel. I’ve only really ever been asked out as a joke. But someone will come around and see how absolutely amazing and badass you are. Seriously.” He said this instead, even though it made his throat tighten at the tail end of his sentence.

You looked at him, and he let go of a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding captive. Your eyes swam with doubt, slightly damp.

“Eddie. I’m the freakette. Anyone who would ask me out is probably an idiot.” You said, somberly.

Suddenly, Eddie’s hand disappeared from its place on your knee, Eddie himself bolting up from the bleachers. “Hey! I know I’m a repeat but I’m not an idiot!” He said, sounding genuinely upset.

You paused, realization smacking you both upside the head. “You…you what?”

The color of Eddie’s face would make traffic stop. Fuck. Maybe he is an idiot. “I said that…that uh-“ his hands flew over his eyes, “that I’m not an idiot but now I’m thinkin’ I am because I’m pretty sure I just ruined the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Your heart sped up in your chest, your face blushing. “You…like me?”

Eddie, hands still covering his embarrassment, sighed. “I mean, like you? No. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you when we met. Christ. Look-“ he removed his hands from his face, instead wringing them together, “if you give me time then maybe I could get over it. We can pretend this never happened, I just- I just need you in my life, whatever way that looks like.” His eyes looked down at his shoes now.

You shook your head, mouth agape at what you were hearing. You debated a lot of things in that moment. Then, you went with the best option.

You stood, walking calmly towards him, taking his burning face in your cold hands and lifted it. He looked down at you, shocked, and slightly scared. Definitely nervous.

You leaned in and kissed him then, him returning the favor. Once separated, you backed up, “Eddie, I don’t want you to get over me.”

His smile looked like it’d break his face in half, “Good. Because I was totally lying about my ability to get over you. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible.” You laughed and he joined, happy to have made you smile. “I know it isn’t a big dance proposal, but, would you wanna go out? With me?” He had to specify. He just had to.

“Id love to go out with my favorite idiot.” You smiled cheekily. Eddie burst out into laughter, picking you up and hugging you tightly.

“If I can be your idiot, then an idiot I’ll be.” He declared, kissing you once more.

———

Thanks for reading, I’ve been in a slump lately, so I hope this was good.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being too close to my childhood best friend?

(This is so long I'm so sorry, there's just a fair bit of info.)

Me (22F) and Jake (23F) grew up together. Our mothers were friends for years and got pregnant around the same time, and we've basically been side by side our whole lives. We consider each other platonic soulmates and siblings.

Jake has had a girlfriend (Lucy, 23F) for the last seven months. I really like Lucy, she's so funny, so interesting, and she clearly makes Jake happy. There's been one or two awkward moments between us, but its never been anything that lingered or caused problems.

Now I know how people generally act/think about "the girl best friend" so when Jake said he was thinking of asking Lucy out, I made sure to back off a bit. Instead of having a brate (bro date, just hanging out doing something like bowling, Maccas, movie theatre, ect) once a week I said we should have one once a month, I don't call him just to hang on the phone together anymore, I make sure to not message at all on the days I know they have dates planned, ect.

I've really, really done my best to not get in the way, to make sure Lucy knows he really is just my brother, and I've tried to give them both space as someone who is not involved in their relationship.

I thought I was doing really well because its never really come up until this week. It was Jake and I's brate day and we decided to go to the mall so I could shop for clothes and he could get the slushies he likes there. Lucy knew where we'd be, and "happened" to show up, which was fine. Like I said, I like hanging out with her, and I actually thought it was cool I could get another girl's opinion on my outfit.

Jake decided to try on some clothes too while he was there and it turned into something of a mini fashion show of both of us showing off our possible choices. Lucy seemed to alternate between really having fun and going quiet. She refused to try on any herself but grinning and laughing while Jake and I were, and while we were taking turns playfully hyping each other up.

Jake tried on a pair of jeans and I was teasing him and said "damn dude, look at all that ass" trying to make him embarrassed. This was when Lucy muttered something I didn't quite hear, and politely suggested I should leave. Both Jake and I were really confused and taken aback and Lucy kind of shrugged and said things like this were things couples should do, and it was really inappropriate of me to make a sexual comment about her boyfriend while she was right there.

I didn't want to make a scene so I said I'd go, but Jake argued back and said it was clearly just joking around and he's sick of her getting upset at literally anything I do, or he does with me, which was surprising because it was the first I heard that she's had actual complaints.

We all wound up sitting down in the food court to talk and Lucy basically said that she's growing more and more uncomfortable with how close Jake and I are as her and Jake get closer, even though Jake and I's interactions have drastically dropped since they started dating. She thinks its weird we have friendship bracelets (our families went on a double vacation when we were 14 and me and Jake bought those cheap seaside shell bracelets in matching colors, that's literally it) and we hang out alone once a month (even though she's been invited multiple times and always refuses) and she thinks its even weirder than our families are so close and call us siblings.

I won't lie, it killed me inside, but I offered to back off entirely and only be around Jake in group settings, if at all, but Jake cut in and said that wasn't a compromise he was willing to make, and asked Lucy to talk more in private. They left together and trying to be respectful, I haven't reached out at all to either of them while they talk it through.

Jake's mom came over today to hang out with mine, and wound up telling me the last few days Jake has been stressed out, miserable, and isn't sure about staying with Lucy. She said it was a shame because Lucy seemed so nice, but she also said she was proud of him because I was family and Lucy's insecurity wasn't reasonable.

It made me feel sad and like I was hurting Jake by interfering with his relationship again, so I asked some of my online friends from a game I play and the opinion was kind of split. They all agreed I've never spoken about Jake in a way that hinted I liked him, but also that as girls, they'd feel weird anyway about knowing their boyfriend had this close bond with another girl, and they'd be wondering what the future would look like and if our friendship would get in the way of choices like moving, starting a family.

Now I feel completely lost and honestly a little scared of both losing Jake and apparently ruining his life by being so close to him. None of the rest of our IRL friend group has ever brought anything up about it, and I don't know if this is Lucy being jealous or if this is my fault.

What are these acronyms?

[rius-cave]

I'd like to think that Angel and Adam have been getting along so well that they have little inside jokes that make the others question their type of humor. Like they're just sitting on the couch, they look at each other and its like: "psst..PFF..Psssstt!! Adam!"

"Dude what??"

"Apple"

and then they both start hysterically laughing.

(btw if ur wondering what it means, then dont think about it lol. I just thought of a random word)

The more we talk the more I fucking love their friendship like I really didn't think I'd be standing here today but here I fucking am.

If you think about it, everyone at the hotel is too serious or weird for Angel. There's no one to share childish silly jokes with when Cherri isn't there. So Adam is the perfect guy to make stupid jokes with, he's basically just as crass as he is and Angel is happy to finally have a guy friend that has a similar humor to his.

[lyrakanefanatic]

tig couple hcs part 1: max and xander

OKAY FOR SOME REASON I RANDOMLY WANTED TO MAKE A TIG COUPLES SERIES SO HERES MY FAVS FIRST!!!

———————————————————

• they literally complete each other. xander, although he doesn’t show it, has always been a bit insecure when it comes to dating and didnt know if there was anyone right for him, until he met max 💗

• max told her parents about them dating a few months after they started, but they met like 6-7 months later. xander took it extremely seriously surprisingly, and showed up to her parents house with a suit and a bouquet of tulips (maxs favourite) (oh, and he got a smaller bundle of yellow roses for maxs mom because they represent friendship and/or family 🤭)

• xander loves isaac (max’s brother) and they get along really well

• karaoke nights are ICONIC with these two and they sing the best duets. you bet they’re eating up shallow and every hamilton song to have ever existed

• whenever they have movie nights they make the famous candy salads, and do that tiktok trend thing where they pretend that the candy salad was actually supposed to be a salad to make themselves seem healthy. here’s an example if you don’t know what i mean:

• “xander, are you ready to try this super healthy salad?”

• “you bet i am! i can’t wait to dig in— OH MY GOD!!! ITS ALL CANDY!!”

• “this is disgusting!! but… we can’t waste it.”

• “you’re right max. there are starving children! let’s try this”

• *while they’re eating* “this is NOT the healthy all greens salad we wanted xan 😪”

• “yeah, im SO disappointed.” (while they’re throwing handfuls of nerds gummy clusters onto their mouths)

• although avery and libby were the first people max told about her and xander dating, nash was the first person xander told about him and max dating.

• jk. nash found out because he walked in on him and max kissing and then xander told everyone in fear that nash would first. 💀

• they have SO. MANY. inside jokes it’s not even funny. sometimes at hawthorne family dinners, max will pick up a napkin or something and say some weird dumb statement to xander and they’ll both burst out laughing and get shot dirty looks by the laughlins and every older hawthorne that lives at hawthorne house

• max actually didn’t really like xander at first (although she found him attractive) because she was worried for avery, and when she had first got to the hawthorne house, she used to wander the halls just looking around, like the curious cat she is. one day, xander sees her wandering and pops up in front of her, and max, who was taken by surprise, pulls her fist back and punched him right in the throat. he was wheezing on the ground for 5 minutes straight. (she apologized so many times)

• at their wedding, xander mentioned this ⬆️⬆️ story in his vows with a cheesy line, like: “maxine liu, when I first met you, you took my breath away. literally. you punched me in the throat.” and made everybody there laugh (at the after party, nash made him explain the whole story)

• max snores and is a terrible sleeper, but thankfully xander falls asleep really quickly, so by the time she’s got her book away and is creating so much noise that it sounds like an elephant orchestra has taken residence in her mouth, xander’s already asleep

• they wear custom made matching hoodies. xanders says “when unsure, ask for max’s opinion” and max’s hoodie just says “max”.

• ⬆️ doesn’t really work the best when they’re not together LOL

• xander has woken up to max’s giggles at 3 am when she’s reading and the enemies become loversss 🤭🤭

• they eat enough food combined at thanksgiving dinner to make all of texas starve

• on the rare occasions that xander visits maxs house, he always takes seconds and thirds at dinner because he just loves her moms cooking so much

• when xander heard her swear for the first time, he was so taken aback that he just stared at her like this for 2 minutes straight:

——————————————————————————

OKAY THATS ALL!!!

LEMME KNOW WHAT COUPLE I SHOULD DO NEXT BECAUSE I LOVED MAKING HCS FOR THESE TWO 💗💗💗

[charlosvibesonly]

Racing Hearts - Part 3

Pairing : Max Verstappen x fem! reader/ driver

max and y/n are only growing closer. they like each other. but would that be enough?

Part 1 | Part 2

it's a little long this time, i got carried away ;) your comments and support mean a lot, they motivate me to keep writing :)

Max and your unprecedented range of events were further heightened by the media. Everyone talked about you two. This wasn’t rivalry or friendship. This was something the world of Formula 1 had never witnessed before.

Instead of shying away from the media frenzy, you decided to face it head-on, braving a whirlwind of interviews, appearances, and photo shoots. 

As the interviews rolled on, the playful banter between you and Max took on a life of its own, stealing the show every time. One moment that had everyone in stitches was when an interviewer asked about your daily routine. With a sly grin, you shot Max a mischievous look before answering, "Well, it usually starts with me crushing Max at some virtual racing on our gaming consoles. He's got nothing on me when it comes to video games." 

Max playfully rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. I let you win, it's called being a gentleman." 

You couldn't help but laugh, "A gentleman who can't handle losing, more like it." 

From there, the conversation took off, touching on everything from your favorite travel destinations to your go-to karaoke songs. When Max couldn't resist teasing you about your high notes, you fired back, "Oh, please. You're just jealous that I can hit those notes better than you hit the apex." 

The interviews may have been hectic, but with Max by your side, you were having the time of your life. Laughter became a constant companion, with inside jokes forming during every appearance. Fans started to notice the chemistry that went beyond mere rivalry.

The whirlwind continued with a series of photoshoots, where the chemistry between you and Max translated effortlessly onto film.

A photoshoot in progress, capturing moments frozen in time. You and Max couldn’t help but turn it into a playground of laughter. The photographer took a break, and Max seized the opportunity to unleash his mischievous side. As soon as the lens turned away, he pulled faces that ranged from exaggerated expressions of surprise to comically pouting lips. Your attempts to keep a straight face fail miserably, and you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Max, seriously, can you tone it down for a moment?" you plead through giggles.

He feigns innocence, "What? I'm just adding a touch of drama."

The photographer returns, oblivious to Max's brief stint as a comedic actor. However, you can't hold back your laughter, and the moment is captured on film - a snapshot of the behind-the-scenes hilarity.

As you both reviewed the photos later, there was a shared sense of satisfaction – not just from the stunning images but from the genuine joy that radiated through each frame. The glossy images weren't just snapshots of professional racers; they were windows into something that had blossomed amidst the high-stakes world of Formula 1.

The marketing machine wasn't satisfied with just interviews and photoshoots; soon, Red Bull Racing suggested a joint podcast to delve even deeper into the personalities of their star drivers. 

Max grinned, savoring the opportunity to steer the conversation toward more personal territories. "Alright, Y/N, let's make it interesting. If you could relive any moment of your life, what would it be?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the unexpected turn. "That's a tough one. Maybe a childhood memory. You know, the carefree days before racing became my entire world. How about you, Max?"

He leaned back, adopting a thoughtful expression. "I'd probably go back to my first race win. The rush of emotions, the taste of victory."

It was your turn now, “Any race that is your favorite?”

"Remember that one race in Monaco?" he mused, a playful glint in his eyes.

You grinned, "Oh, how could I forget? It's not every day you get kissed in front of the entire world."

Max leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, "And yet, here we are, still making headlines."

As the race weekends unfolded, the media attention showed no signs of waning. Every shared podium appearance, every victorious celebration, and even the occasional post-race kiss fueled the narrative further.

“We had my shoey. And now Max and Y/N’s kisses seem to be a new tradition. You know I’m all up for it. If I’m on the podium, I’ll be kissing Max too.” Daniel said playfully in an interview.

During a particularly tense race at Spa-Francorchamps, you and Max found yourselves wheel-to-wheel in a fierce battle for the lead. The high-speed duel captivated fans, but what happened after the race added an unexpected twist to the tale.

In the cool-down room, Max approached you, a genuine smile on his face. "You pushed me out there. Good race."

You grinned, "Likewise. But what was with that risky move at Eau Rouge? You almost sent me off the track."

He chuckled, "Gotta keep you on your toes. Can't let things get too predictable."

Needless to say, your cheeks turned red fast.

Amidst the chaos of media attention, race weekends, and public scrutiny, you and Max found a moment of respite in the city where it all began – Monaco. 

The evening started at Max's house, a chic and cozy penthouse overlooking the harbor. Soft jazz music played in the background. The scent of a delicious homemade meal wafted through the air, as you and Max stood side by side in the well-equipped kitchen, aprons on, ready to embark on a culinary adventure.

"I hope you're prepared for a taste of my secret recipe," Max teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he handed you a chopping board.

"Secret recipe? Should I be worried?" you replied with a playful smirk, taking the chopping board from him.

"Okay, maybe 'secret recipe' was a bit of an exaggeration," Max admitted, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. "But I promise, it'll be the best pasta you've ever had."

The aroma of the simmering sauce filled the air, blending with the smooth jazz playing in the background. 

While chopping vegetables and stirring pots, Max stole a playful glance at you. "You know, Y/N, I've never had this much fun in the kitchen before."

You smiled, with a playful glint in your eyes.

As the final touches were added to the meal, you and Max set the table, the anticipation building for the culinary masterpiece you had created together. 

After dinner, you sat on the balcony. The night was beautiful and calm. 

As a gentle breeze rustled, Max reached for your hand, his touch conveying a silent assurance that, at this moment, it was just the two of you against the world.

"You know," Max said with a soft smile, "I never thought cooking together could be this much fun."

"Surprising, isn't it? Maybe we've discovered a hidden talent for culinary collaboration," you replied, intertwining your fingers with his.

He chuckled, "Or maybe it's just the company that makes it special."

And then, in a tender yet passionate moment, Max leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours. "You know, Y/N," he murmured, "there's something magical about moments like these."

You felt your heartbeat quicken, a gentle flush warming your cheeks. "And to think only a couple of months ago we were hell-bent on tearing each other apart " you teased.

As his lips met yours, the world outside the penthouse faded away.

It wasn’t like those kisses you had before. They were fueled by adrenaline. But here it was just pure calm, and genuine happiness to be with each other.

But a storm was brewing quietly. 

Headline: "Max Verstappen's Soft Side: Is Y/N Taking Advantage?"

In recent weeks, Max Verstappen's performance on and off the track has raised eyebrows among fans and pundits alike. The usually fierce and competitive driver seems to have softened, and many speculate that Y/N’'s influence is the cause. As their unexpected relationship unfolds, questions arise about whether she's leveraging their connection for personal gain. With Y/N now on the verge of a potential championship victory, concerns grow that Max's focus on the track may be compromised, jeopardizing his chances at the championship.

Max sat alone in his dark room, his anxious eyes glued to the screen of his phone as he scrolled through the endless stream of news articles. The more he read, the more uncertain he felt, and his mind began to race with worst-case scenarios. The words on the screen seemed to taunt him with their tone, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by doubt and fear. 

Suddenly, his phone rang, shattering the eerie silence of the room. He saw that it was you calling, and his heart raced with anticipation. Should he answer? The temptation was too great to resist, but he couldn't bear the thought of what might come next, so he hit the reject button.

His doubts had won. 

It was race day.

“Max is back! Oh Y/N would not have liked that. Hurts being taken out from the race by your own boyfriend.”

[m0dernidi0ts]

Staring Problems || Trevor Spengler x GN! Reader

Recently watched Frozen Empire with my roommates and holy shit...TREVOR SPENGLERRRRR!! UGGGGGGH!! he's so silly....I just thinks he's...neat. Anyways enjoy this little blurb!! Reader and Trevor have been best friends since the reader joined the Ghostbusters Research Center as an inter. The two of them haven't spoken about the potential growing feelings between the two of them until Lars makes it clear that he also likes the reader - Trevor won't stand to loss them to him.

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead like restless spirits, casting their sterile glow across the polished surfaces of the Ghostbusters Research Center. You hunched over your workstation, where an iridescent sample of ectoplasm swirled in its containment unit like liquid moonlight. The familiar symphony of the lab—ozone's sharp bite, metal's cold whisper, and the metronomic beeping of PKE meters—wrapped around you like a well-worn lab coat.

Like a phantom touch between your shoulder blades, you felt those eyes again. A quick glance up confirmed what you already knew: Lars, stationed across the lab like a satellite locked in orbit, hurriedly shifted his gaze back to his computer screen. You figured he must be curious about your research on spectral resonance patterns—it was pretty groundbreaking stuff, after all.

“Hey,” You heard the familiar voice of your best friend, Trevor Spengler. His voice was soft as a greeted you, “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.” Trevor and you had always been close. When the Ghostbusters relocated back to New York, you jumped at the Idea to inter at the research lab. That’s where you met and instantly became friends. From late-night stakeouts, the two of you laughing over shared coffee and energy drinks at odd hours, to your endless inside jokes, Trevor became the person who knew you better than anyone else. He was the one you’d text about anything from weird ghost sightings to random thoughts, and no one else understood you quite the way he did. “Trevor!” you said, your face lighting up as you took the latte gratefully. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” As much as you cherished the easy closeness, a part of you always wanted more. Sometimes, when he’d lean over your shoulder to point something out, his arm brushing yours, or when he’d give you that effortless, heart-stopping grin, you’d find yourself hoping he felt it too. You hid it well, laughing off every little moment, but inside, your heart ached for the chance to be more than just his friend.

His mouth curved into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You knew something was eating at him. Every time he’s stepped foot into research lab for the last month or so he’s been…almost absent. Not fully there. What eats at him, eats at you – that’s just friendship.

“So, what’s the occasion?” you teased, trying to lighten the moment. “You checking up on me?”

“Something like that.” Trevor’s voice was casual, but the glance he threw over your shoulder told a different story. His focus shifted back and forth from you to the far side of the room, and the lines around his mouth deepened.

Following Trevor's gaze, you spotted Lars, one of the researchers, standing by a row of computers across the room. He wasn’t just looking in your direction; his gaze was fixed on you, intense and unblinking, like he was trying to unravel a mystery. His eyes didn’t shift when you caught him staring, either—he just kept studying you. But Lars was always into you- well, into your work. The two of you were both very into each other’s research, mutual respect and all that. You glanced back at Trevor, your pulse quickening under the weight of their stares. It was like standing in the center of a storm, two opposing currents pulling at you, the tension thickening around you with each passing second. The strangeness of it all left you feeling raw and unsettled, as though you were a wire stretched between them, humming under an electric charge only you could feel. “Trev,” you turned your attention back to your best friend with a small, awkward laugh, trying to shake off the odd feeling creeping into your stomach. “You’re staring daggers at my coworker?”

Trevor’s face flushed, and he let out a small, uneasy laugh that wasn’t at all like his usual easygoing self. “I’m…not.” His stance shifted, shoulders tense as his fingers tapped a staccato rhythm against his leg, like he was trying to hold something back. “But Lars…” he began, his voice lowering as he cast a dark look over at Lars. It was a look that caught you off guard, a look you’d never seen from him before— It was sudden and intense. “What’s his deal?” Trevor’s jaw clenched slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“Lars?” You turned, glancing over at the researcher again, who was still watching you—though now it seemed he was pretending to busy himself with his work. “Yknow, we’re all just super into the job. You get used to it.” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders softly– shaking off Trevor’s concern with a smile. But Trevor wasn’t laughing.  “He doesn’t look like he’s interested in the job,” Trevor muttered, his voice low as his jaw tightened. “He looks like he’s interested in you.”

Blinking slowly, you were more than a little thrown by the way Trevor was looking at you. The fierce intensity in his gaze felt almost foreign, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. Since when did he get so worked up about a coworker? And why did he care if Lars was looking at you? “Uh, Trev, you’re being kind of intense. Lars is just passionate,” you replied with a dismissive wave, chuckling nervously as you turned back to your work, hoping to ease the tension. Trevor let out a short, frustrated laugh. “Yeah, ‘passionate’ is one word for it. He’s been staring at you all morning like…” He bit off his sentence, his eyes darkening in a way that left you feeling more than a little off balance.

Blankly you stared back at him, wondering what on earth had crawled under his skin. Trevor was usually so laid-back, but now he was acting like Lars was some kind of threat. Lars was a lot of things; Booksmart, sarcastic, maybe even a tad egotistical – but a threat wasn’t on the list. You had always just assumed he had a staring problem, a lot of people did. One thing you knew for sure was that Trevor was overreacting.  

“Why are you so worked up about this?” you asked, both confused and a little amused. “It’s Lars. He’s just… being Lars. He’s like this with everyone.”

Trevor’s mouth twitched, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, he’s not like this with everyone.” He took a step closer to you, lowering his voice. “He keeps looking at you like…that.” You tilted your head, trying to process what he was saying. This whole situation was almost laughable. But Trevor was standing here, looking deadly serious, and now you couldn’t help but second-guess yourself. You cast a sidelong glance at Lars, who was definitely not paying attention to his computer, but instead sneaking another look at you. Then Trevor cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes were blazing, a storm brewing in their depths, and it was unsettling to see such intensity on his face. The way he stared at you was almost possessive, like he was wrestling with something he couldn’t quite articulate.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, taking a half-step toward him. The air felt charged between you, heavy with unspoken words and a tension that made your heart race. You reached out, your hand wrapping around his wrist gently, urging him to meet your gaze. “Y'know what, outside. Let’s step outside for a minute.” Trust that you loved when Trevor stopped by in his free time to surprise you with coffee and listen as you explained your latest breakthrough, but this was all absurd and couldn’t frankly wait till you were off. You pulled him gently toward the door, needing some space from the busy research room. As you stepped out into the hallway, the bustling sounds of the center faded, leaving just the two of you in the quiet. Trevor paced a tight circle, reminiscent of an electron trapped in an unstable orbit. His fingers drummed against his thigh in an erratic rhythm that matched the nervous energy radiating off him in waves. "Why are you so worked up?" you asked, watching his agitation build like pressure in a containment unit. "Did the possessor get to you or something?"  “Lars won’t stop fucking staring at you like he wants to eat you," Trevor leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looked conflicted, like he was grappling with some heavy burden he couldn’t seem to articulate. “I just… I don’t like it,” he finally admitted, his voice low and rough around the edges. “I don’t like how he looks at you, like you’re something he can claim. It feels like—like he’s trying to take you away from me, and I don’t want that.” His words hung in the air, and you stared at him, bewildered. “Take me away? Trev, it’s not like that. Lars is just a coworker.” You tried to dismiss his concern, but your heart thudded in your chest at the unexpected intensity of his feelings. This was Trevor, your best friend, the one who always knew how to make you laugh when things got tough. Yet here he was, acting like a scene from a bad drama, his brows knitted together as if the world was crumbling around him.

You took a step back, trying to process the situation. “You’re acting kind of crazy right now,” you said, half-joking, hoping to lighten the mood. “It’s just Lars, He gets like crazed about this stuff! I bet he wishes he was working on my study!” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, It was truly laughable. You never expect Trevor to get…get so worked up over someone looking at you. But here Trevor was with his posture tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. Finally, he exhaled sharply, looking down at the coffee cup he’d brought you, as though the words he wanted to say were etched somewhere on its surface. The steam curled up like whispered secrets, rising into the air, but his thoughts remained locked away. “It’s not just about him looking at you,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, each word tumbling out like it was a confession. “I just… I don’t want anyone else thinking they can—” He paused, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson, as if the very act of speaking was igniting a fire inside him. “I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a shot with you.”

Your brain went blank, thoughts skidding to a halt like a car on a slick road. Wait. What? Since when did Trevor care if anyone else “had a shot” with you? The very idea sent a wave of disbelief crashing over you. The two of you were just friends, and Trevor had never acted like he felt anything different. This revelation felt like a jolt of electricity coursing through you, leaving you a little dizzy and breathless. 

“Trevor…” you said slowly, a confused smile dancing on your lips, struggling to comprehend this new layer of your friendship. “You’re acting like you’re jealous or something.”

His response was instantaneous, but the admission hung in the air like an unspoken promise. Trevor rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that belied the storm brewing inside him. His expression was a complicated tapestry woven from embarrassment and frustration, a boy caught in the complexities of emotions he hadn’t anticipated. “Yeah. Maybe I am,” The admission was heavy, weighty, and it settled between you like a thick fog, shrouding the familiar warmth of your friendship in something undeniably charged. “Maybe..It made me realize I don't want anyone else looking at you that way. Except for... me?” Trevor's words tumbled out in a rush, each syllable heavy with a weight he could no longer contain. As he spoke, his gaze bore into you, fierce and unyielding, like a lighthouse searching for lost ships in a stormy sea. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine, a combination of longing and fear that made your heart race. It was as if he were peeling back layers of his soul, exposing vulnerabilities he had never dared to reveal before. The way he looked at you was electrifying, a raw need escaping beneath the surface.

 You felt the air thicken around you, every heartbeat echoing in the silence as Trevor's admission hung between you like a delicate thread, taut and ready to snap. The intensity of his gaze seemed to strip away the noise of the world, leaving only the two of you in a space that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. “You?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, disbelief mingling with a flicker of hope. The realization settled in your chest, warming you from the inside out, yet you couldn’t shake the anxiety curling in your stomach. Did he really mean that?

Trevor shifted slightly, the tension in his posture hinting at a whirlwind of emotions beneath the surface. He took a half-step closer, the space between you charged with unspoken possibilities, and you could see the vulnerability etched into his features. “I know it sounds crazy,” he said, his voice a low murmur, the sincerity evident in every word. It did sound crazy, Trevor Spengler was never this serious about something. “But when I saw him looking at you, it felt like someone was trying to take you away from me…I couldn’t stand the idea of you with him.”

His honesty disarmed you, and for a moment, you were lost in the depths of his eyes—those bright, expressive orbs that had always held a hint of mischief now bore a deeper, more profound weight. You could see the fear lurking behind that fierce gaze, the worry that this admission might change everything. And yet, it also held a spark of something more—a tentative hope, a desire that hinted at the possibility of something beyond friendship.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, your heart fluttering in your chest, a delicate dance of anticipation and uncertainty. The way Trevor’s brow furrowed as he considered your question made you ache to reach out and soothe the apprehension swirling within him.

“I've wanted to ask you this for a while now, but I don't know how,” he confessed, a soft vulnerability creeping into his voice. As he spoke, Trevor ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that revealed the nervous energy thrumming beneath his surface. His fingers fumbled slightly, as if searching for the right words that danced just out of reach. His shoulders were tense, drawn up as if bracing against an unseen weight, and you noticed how he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, an unconscious movement that betrayed his anxiety. The intensity of his gaze remained locked on yours, a mixture of longing and fear swirling in those bright, expressive eyes, as if he were trying to anchor himself in this moment, to draw strength from your presence.

“I just keep thinking about how… how amazing you are,” he continued, his voice slightly trembling, betraying the vulnerability he was trying to mask. “And I don’t want to mess it up. I know I probably sound ridiculous right now.” He let out a short, nervous laugh, but there was no humor in it—only a poignant blend of anxiety and earnestness.

He rubbed the back of his neck again, a habit you recognized as a tell of his discomfort, and you could see the way his cheeks flushed a deeper shade as he continued to lay bare his feelings. His sincerity shone through the cracks in his facade, and you could sense the weight of the moment bearing down on him. This was Trevor, the lighthearted joker who had always known how to make you smile, now revealing a side of himself that was raw and open, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor.

“Trevor,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. “You aren’t being ridiculous right now.” You took a small step closer, wanting to eliminate the invisible barrier that had formed in the wake of his confession. “The only ridiculous part of this is you thinking I’d choose Lars over someone I’ve had a crush on for months.” The warmth of your words seemed to envelop him like a comforting embrace, and you could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, the rigid lines of anxiety softening as a flicker of relief crossed his features.

“Really? Months?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his tone drawing you in. His eyes widened, and you caught the slight parting of his lips, the hope illuminating his expression, like dawn breaking through the darkness.

“Really,” you affirmed, feeling a rush of courage swell within you. “I’ve also wanted to say something, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t think you’d…be interested in mel.” As you spoke, you noticed the way Trevor’s breathing quickened, a subtle rise and fall that mirrored the rapid beating of your own heart. He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit that made his curls fall into his eyes, but he didn’t brush them aside—almost as if he wanted to hide behind that curtain of hair, but his resolve was crumbling.

The way his expression shifted from fear to something softer, more tender, sent a warmth flooding through you. “You have no idea how interested I am in you,” he said, a radiant smile breaking across his face—a smile that chased away the shadows of uncertainty. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and you could see the genuine joy blooming there, bright and inviting, as he took a hesitant step closer, as if testing the waters of this new connection.

The moment felt electric, charged with possibility as the barriers between you melted away, and you were left standing in a newfound intimacy that transformed the very fabric of your friendship. You both were standing on the precipice of something beautiful, and the world outside faded into insignificance as you shared this sacred space, caught in the exhilarating dance of discovery, vulnerability, and hope.

Trevor shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a subtle dance of anticipation as he leaned in just a fraction more, the space between you filled with the unspoken promise of what was to come. His gaze softened, the intensity giving way to a gentler warmth as he regarded you, a mix of longing and sincerity swirling in the depths of his eyes. “So, are we like dating now?” he asked, the question hanging in the air like an invitation, daring you both to take the next step into this uncharted territory.The warmth between you grew, and you felt a spark ignite in your chest, urging you to cross the threshold of friendship into something deeper. With a newfound sense of clarity, you realized this was your moment to embrace the vulnerability that came with love—a leap of faith into a beautiful unknown. Trevor’s body language mirrored your own, a blend of eagerness and caution, and you could see the flicker of hope in his eyes, as if he were silently urging you to take that leap together.

“Yeah, Spengler…we’re dating now.”