#went a little harder this time oops | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 1 year ago

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die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it and it makes you feel alone just know that i would die for you baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

let me know what you think :D

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin

(i ran out of tags omg? whoops) lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

3K notes · View notes

lyvhie · 1 month ago

Note

hai!!! could i request a idol! mark smut :(( where reader is missing him but hes too busy with work but then he surprises her over the new years!!!

happy new year to u!!! <3 sending u hugs and kisses

a nice surprise | lee mark

mark lee x fem!reader (18+ mdni) ꒰ summary ꒱ you were already expecting to spend another special occasion alone, but your boyfriend just wanted to surprise you. ꒰ a/n ꒱ little edit! OOPS IT WASNT AN ANON HELP MEEE!! IM SORRY, CUTIE I DIDNT SEE YOUR NAME thats embarrassing omg 🫣 happy new year to you too! i'm sorry it took me so long to write, i was really sick 😖 BUT I FINISHED!! i hope you like it and ALSO wishing you aaaall the best this year, mwah! 💖 ꒰ cw ꒱ smut, oral (f), unprotected sex, pet names.

When you started dating a famous person, you knew things wouldn’t be easy. Paparazzi, overzealous fans, and the constant need for caution every time you stepped outside, those challenges came with the territory. You’d prepared yourself for it, and over time, those things became just another part of your daily routine, barely registering as problems anymore.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was how difficult the distance would be.

Being away from Mark for days, weeks, sometimes even months, felt like torture. The only thing keeping you sane was the existence of technology—video calls, texts, and voice messages filled the gaps when he was free. But it wasn’t the same. There were nights when the loneliness hit harder than usual, when a screen or the sound of his voice through the phone just couldn’t replace the warmth of his presence. You didn’t just want him; you needed him there, right beside you.

But you knew that, no matter how much you longed for his presence, things couldn’t just change on a whim. Mark couldn’t simply drop everything he was doing to spend a day with you—even though he’d suggested it more times than you could count. The thought alone made your heart ache and swell at the same time, knowing how much he cared but also understanding the weight of his responsibilities.

Still, Mark always found a way to remind you that you were on his mind, no matter how far apart you were. Like the random voice notes he’d send in the middle of the night, whispering about his day because he knew you'd listen to them first thing in the morning. Or the surprise delivery of your favorite snacks and flowers with a note that simply read, "Thinking of you. Always."

It wasn’t the same as having him there, but it was enough to keep you going.

“So… you really won’t be here tonight?” The disappointment in your voice was clear as you lay on your bed, hugging the pillow tightly and pressing your cellphone against your ear. “You couldn’t make it for Christmas, and now this…”

He was supposed to come home today, and at least start the year with you after weeks without seeing each other. But something went wrong with their flight, and now they’d have to wait two more days to board another plane. Two days might not seem like much, but after being apart for so long, the thought of waiting two more days felt like an eternity.

“I know it’s frustrating, I really wanted to be there with you,” you could hear his sigh on the other end of the line. “I promise I’m doing everything I can to get home to you as soon as possible. These two days will fly by, I’ll make it up to you when I get there. Just a little longer, okay? I miss you so much.”

The warmth in his voice made the ache in your chest a little more bearable, but it still didn’t take away the longing you felt. “I miss you too, love, you have no idea,” you said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I wanna see you so bad, Mark.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I wanna see you too. Just hang in there for me, okay? I’ll be there before you know it.” Before he could say more, you heard faint voices in the background followed by his hum. “Baby, I… I hate to do this, but my manager’s calling me. I have to go,” he said reluctantly.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled softly, imagining the little pout that was surely on his face. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay? Promise. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving the room enveloped in quiet once more, the only sound now your soft breathing. You let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was just you and the silence again.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Three firm knocks on your front door echoed through the room, loud enough to pull you from your thoughts. You glanced at the time on your phone—it wasn’t exactly the hour for unannounced visits, and you weren’t expecting anyone. Well, not anymore, anyway. Maybe it was your neighbor, they had an uncanny knack for finding reasons to complain about the tiniest sounds.

You let out a small groan and shouted, “I’m coming!” as another knock sounded, dragging yourself out of bed.

“Hi, how can I—” The words died on your lips the moment you saw who was standing at the door. Your eyes widened, and your jaw slackened as your hand remained frozen on the doorknob.

“Hey, beautiful,” Mark greeted you with that boyish smile you adored, a cute teddy bear in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. The sight of him left you speechless, your heart racing as if it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

Before you knew it, you had thrown yourself into his arms, the force of your embrace nearly causing the teddy bear and chocolates to slip from his grip. He caught you effortlessly, as if he had been waiting for this moment as much as you had. Your arms tightened around him, your face burying into his shoulder as his familiar scent washed over you, sweeping away the loneliness of the past weeks in an instant.

Mark managed to nudge the door shut behind him and guided you both further inside. Without breaking the hug, he set the teddy bear and chocolates down on a nearby surface, his hands quickly finding their way back to you. His arms wrapped around you firmly now, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face as if making sure he was real. “You’re really here?” you asked softly, your eyes scanning every inch of his familiar features.

“I’m really here,” he replied with a chuckle, leaning into your touch. He couldn’t help but find it adorable how you stared at him like he was some kind of alien. Covering your hand with his, he turned his head slightly to press a tender kiss to your palm.

“So… all that stuff about the airplane was a lie?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeky grin was all the answer you needed.

“I wanted to make a—” he started, but his explanation was cut off as your hands playfully squished his cheeks.

“Mark Lee!” you scolded, though the smile breaking across your face betrayed your mock anger.

Mark laughed softly as he tried to wiggle free from your hands, his grin never leaving his face. “Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he said, eyes sparkling with affection. “I thought it would be a good surprise, sorry.”

You let go of his cheeks, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders, then gently on his chest as you looked up at him. There was a moment of silence, the playful energy from before softening into something deeper, more intimate. You searched his eyes, your voice quieter, more sincere.

“And it was,” you whispered, your heart full as you leaned in slightly. “God, it was. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m finally here too, I missed you so much,” Mark said softly, his voice thick with emotion. It was his turn to cup your face gently between his hands, his gaze soft as he looked at you, almost as if he was memorizing the moment. Without another word, he leaned in, bringing his lips to yours in a warm, affectionate kiss that felt like home, his love for you pouring into every second.

The kiss lingered for a moment, slow and tender, as if both of you were savoring the reunion, letting the warmth of each other fill the space between you. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“You’re really here,” you whispered again, as if you couldn’t quite believe it, the words tumbling out like a soft confession.

Mark chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here, baby. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of relief and joy flooding through you. You leaned in again, kissing him once more, this time deeper, pulling him even closer, as if you couldn't get enough. Mark’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his other hand sliding down to your waist, rubbing slow circles that made you melt into him.

“Mmh, I missed that too,” he murmured against your lips, his smile evident in his voice as his hands toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Mark…” you tried to sound stern, your tone a mix of warning and amusement as you attempted to pull away. But he wasn’t having it, his lips quickly chasing yours, capturing them in another kiss.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. His hands slid lower, cupping your ass with a firm squeeze that had your breath hitching, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You act like you don’t like it,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with affection.

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to be truly annoyed. “I didn’t say that,” you muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly,” he smirked, his grip on you tightening slightly. “So let me make up for all the time I’ve been away.”

Before you could say anything more, he silenced you with another kiss, gently guiding you backward toward the bedroom. You didn’t try to protest or stop him, simply letting the moment continue as your arms wrapped around his neck. As you passed through the bedroom door, Mark felt his mind drift into a state of calm. The entire space carried your scent, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. It was just another one of the countless things he missed—the feeling of being surrounded by everything that reminded him of you.

Mark gently laid you down on the bed, his lips staying connected to yours as he followed you. The comforting weight of his body against yours made everything else fade away. His kisses began to wander, trailing from your jaw to your neck, then down to your collarbone and the delicate valley between your breasts.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his every move as your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that you were sure he could hear it. With slow, deliberate movements, he lifted your shirt, his lips continuing their journey downward, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses along your belly. The soft sensation sent a ripple of tingles through you, drawing a quiet chuckle from your lips.

Mark glanced up at the sound, a side smile gracing his lips before he returned to his path, stopping just at the waistband of your pants. His gaze lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his eyes stealing your breath and leaving you speechless, your entire body attuned to his next move.

Mark’s hands lingered at your waistband, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, igniting a trail of warmth that made your breath catch. His gaze never wavered from yours, searching your eyes as if silently asking for permission. When you nodded, the smallest movement, he leaned up to kiss you again. Soft, tender, and unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. His hands worked deftly, slipping your pants down inch by inch, his lips following their descent with featherlight kisses that sent shivers up your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as his lips traced a path along the inside of your thighs. Every kiss, every gentle press of his hands, carried a tenderness that left no doubt about how much he’d missed you, full of care and unspoken longing.

Your heart raced as you took him in, the contrast of his soft, adoring gaze and the undeniably seductive way he moved leaving you breathless. He looked so unfairly perfect—both sweet and completely enticing—positioned between your legs, his intentions written clearly in his eyes.

“Mark…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging lightly. You weren’t even sure if it was meant to ground yourself or encourage him further, but the smirk that tugged at his lips told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

And you didn’t need to say anything more. His mouth had already found its way to your center, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to shield you from the heat of his tongue as it teased over the delicate material. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your breath coming in a long, shaky sigh as your eyes dropped to meet his. The way he looked at you, so intent and unrelenting, only made the anticipation coil tighter in your core.

He didn’t make you wait long. His tongue moved purposefully, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves even through the fabric, a sensation so electrifying it had your fingers clutching the sheets beside you. The soft suction that followed had a breathy moan slipping from your lips, unbidden and raw.

“Mark…” you whispered his name again, your voice a mix of need and surrender, your hips subtly arching toward him, silently begging for more.

His only answer was a soft hum that sent a gentle vibration through you, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. His teeth gently tugged at your panties, pulling them down slowly, all while his gaze remained locked on yours.

Needless to say, you were already dripping, and that sight made his heart swell with pride. No matter how many times he found himself in this position, the view of you laid out before him always felt as thrilling as the first time. His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in every detail before he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your clit.

The gentle press of his lips against your sensitive spot sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly. His tongue darted out, circling around the delicate bundle of nerves with a teasing precision that had your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back against the pillow.

He watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, before sliding his tongue down, parting your slick folds and licking through your slit. His movements were slow, deliberate, savoring every taste as he explored you.

Another moan left your lips as he continued, the warmth of his mouth combined with the skillful flicks of his tongue driving you crazy. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he worked, his own excitement growing with every shudder and whimper he drew from you.

His tongue continued its journey, alternating between long, languid licks and quick, focused flicks over your clit, building you up slowly, savoring every moment of your pleasure.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gently pulling as your hips moved instinctively against his mouth. The sensation of his tongue, combined with the heat pooling in your core, was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer with each stroke.

Mark glanced up, catching the blissed-out expression on your face, and it only spurred him on. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up slowly from your entrance to your clit, then wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking gently. The change in pressure had you gasping, your thighs trembling around his head.

“You taste so good," he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hands now gripped your hips tighter, anchoring you as he continued to work his magic, bringing you closer and closer to the release you craved.

Your breaths came quicker, each exhale accompanied by a moan. "Mark... I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice strained with need.

He didn't let up, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you. One of his hands slipped down, his thumb finding your clit to rub in tandem with his tongue, sending you over the edge.

Your body tensed, a wave of ecstasy washing over you as you came undone beneath him. A cry of his name escaped your lips, your back arching as he continued to lap at you, helping you ride out the high.

As the tremors subsided, he pulled back slightly, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes filled with satisfaction and adoration. He crawled up to meet your gaze, brushing a stray hair from your face and leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roamed down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, your fingers slipping under his shirt, tugging at the fabric. Mark's breath hitched slightly, the desire in his eyes deepening as he pulled back just enough to shed his shirt, revealing his bare chest. You ran your hands over his skin, savoring the warmth beneath your fingertips as he leaned down, capturing your lips again.

He shifted, pressing himself against you, and you could feel the hard outline of his arousal through his pants. Your hand moved between you, palming him gently, eliciting a soft groan from his lips, your touch becoming more intended as you began to unbutton his pants, sliding them down his hips.

He kicked them off, his body pressing back into yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Mark positioned himself, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly pushed into you, the both of you releasing a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“You feel so good," he whispered, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. Mark's movements remained gentle, each thrust slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to memorize every sensation, every reaction from you. The room was filled with soft sighs and the quiet rustle of sheets as you clung to him.

His pace quickened slightly, the friction building a delicious tension between you both. You arched into him, your hands threading through his hair as you whispered, "I'm close again.” The sensitivity from your previous climax heightened every sensation, making your body tremble beneath him.

Mark's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes locking with yours as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting the perfect spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Let go for me, love" he coaxed, his voice soothing, full of love.

With his encouragement, you felt the wave of pleasure cresting again, your body tensing as you cried out his name. The intensity of your release pulled him closer to the edge, and with a few more thrusts, he followed. A groan escaped his lips as he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly, the warmth of his release spreading between you as he shuddered, his breath ragged.

Mark collapsed gently beside you, his breathing ragged as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and the soft rise and fall of his chest helped calm your racing heart.

For a while, you both stayed like that, in silence, just holding each other, the only sound in the room was the soft rhythm of your breaths, gradually returning to normal. The warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, and neither of you felt the need to break the tranquility of the moment.

Mark kissed the top of your head and was about to speak when a loud thud echoed from the wall of the bedroom. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern and you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound filling the room.

"I guess we made the neighbor mad again."

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark x reader #mark smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct smut

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zevrra · 4 months ago

Text

—joel

synopsis: just some random sfw & nsfw hc’s i have for dating joel miller!!

tags: 21(+) only, mdni, fluff, sfw, nsfw, suggestive content, fem!reader, dirty talk, age gap, video game!joel, this could either be pre apocalypse or post!

SFW—

calls you exclusively by pet names! specially darlin’ or different variations of baby(girl, doll, face)

you know if something is wrong or if you’re in trouble when he uses your full name

dad bod dad bod dad bod—

still very fit though! works out every morning he just has a lil extra around the hips

he rarely ever sleeps anymore

when he can, he drinks about 8 cups of coffee

when he can’t sleep you can find him playing his guitar or doing some wood work

100% makes a cute wooden horse for you

is terrified that he’s a horrible man/father

loves kissing you but only in a more private setting because he gets super shy/flustered when you’re in public and want to kiss him

sleeps in just his boxers

i think he also loves to cuddle

especially with you laying in his arms, head on his chest, his fingers moving gently across your back as he hums some old tune

is sorta clueless when it comes to getting gifts for birthdays/anniversaries(etc) so instead plans out a giant party for you

example; gives you a small gift he finds sentimental but also plans an entire trip to your favorite spot just for the two of you

snores!!! anytime he actually falls asleep he snores like crazy

again, rarely sleeps, but i do feel like he could fall asleep anywhere? sitting in a chair, he’s out for a good 15 mins, wakes up like nothing happened

enjoys his naps when he can

i like to think he knows how to cook but only really has perfected a few dishes; soup, anything involving eggs(omelets, hard boiled, etc), and mac&cheese

either way he loves cooking for you

slow dances with you in the kitchen at 2 am!!!!!

cheats at card games solely cause he enjoys you scolding him

took him soooo long to fully rely on you now he enjoys every second he spends with you

trusts you to shave him more than he trusts himself

NSFW—

loves loves loves making out with you

pussy eater!!!!

genuinely enjoys eating you out so much

loves watching you tremble and try to push him away when he’s eating you out and you become overstimulated

will not stop until his beard is soaking wet

gets so turned on when he sees you wearing his clothes and nothing else underneath

breeding kink oops

clingy clingy clingy

rarely talks when you’re having sex but he moans/groans like crazy

his fav position is def cowgirl(reg and reverse) but he also really enjoys the mating press

starts off a little shy when things first get started but it never fails to turn into him taking control

depending on his mood after a mission is how making love is going to go

if it’s a really good mission where nothing went wrong, he’s a little more rough. pulls your hair, fucks you a little harder, wraps his hands around your throat for a little light choking and some dirty talk is whispered in your ear

“you’ve been waitin’ here all day for me haven’t ya? been waitin’ for me to fuck you. such a good girl.”

if he comes back from a mission shook up, where things could’ve ended horribly, he’s far more gentle. kisses you longer, holds you closer, takes him awhile to ever get ready to make love to you because he’s struggling with the thought of losing you. if he doesn’t cherish you right then and there, he might not get the chance to next time.

“you’re beautiful. i love you. can’t ever lose ya or i’ll go mad.”

rough joel finger fucks you while you suck him off

uses your hair to pull you fully down onto his cock, forcing you to deep throat him

but when he makes love to you it’s all passion and soft words

touches you everywhere with gentle yet sure hands

slow, deep thrusts and always missionary or a position where he can see your face clearly in

#zevrra zevrra!#zevrra’s hc’s #joel x f!reader #add a lil spice 🌶️#joel x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #joel miller hc’s

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reshinless · 4 months ago

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thorny arrival. sunday x dom!gn!reader. I didn't finish the story quest for hsr, I just know the characters + their backstories.

warnings: I used the terms cock/etc for reader but you can imagine it as strap as well 🪽

when your boyfriend shows off his newest outfit, you wouldn't admit but it was definitely attractive.

especially when you saw him out and about, fighting along side you. where did those thorns come from? you have no idea, yet it's what led you both to now.

"a- ahhn- fffuck!!" he moaned out, so much so for sultry, this definitely could be it's definition. you acknowledged how lewd it was, his hands above his head tied with the very vines of thorny assault to his wrists as you only turned the toy inside him up more.

"'m sorry.. i- i really am- nnhh-" the whines of his voice go unheard as you temporarily lowered the intensity using the remote. "you knew what you were doing, baby." your hand ran over his erection momentarily, rubbing you thumb over the slit of his cock, lifting your hand back up to taste the saltiness.

he looked as if he was in a frenzy—which was partly true. his sons were loud, as you briefly parted his mouth using one of your hands, caressing his bottom lip with your thumb—the same one you used to have a little taste with.

you gave him a rough kiss one the mouth, he tasted a lot sweeter than how nasty the head of his cock looked at you.

it drooled, veins popped up. shit was it a sight to see.

"look at this tip, so fuckin' naughty." a pang of pain was slapped across his base, making him shudder, only getting even more turned on.

your finger just... oops! I guess it slipped. turning the toy up to the third most intense setting before setting it down to take things into your own hands (literally)

the touch of your cold fingertips that slowly warmed up, feeling his cock up and down, he couldn't help but suddenly arch his back at the sudden contact. especially with the extra vibration to add onto his pleasure.

maybe he wouldn't mind the feeling of being overwhelmed with all these new feelings. you knew it'd calm him right back down anyway.

"haaah- fffuck- mmf!" is all you could hear emit from the small background noise that resembled white noise when it was actually the toy, his moans, and whimpers interrupting your train for though every now and then.

"tryna warm up real nice with that new trailblazer, are you now?" you crept up to his ear, lifting him up briefly by his waist to place his figure onto your lap.

"c'mon, tell me. or are you too busy getting fucked dumb by a toy?" he couldn't even reply to your sassy remarks, simply leaning his head into the slot next to your neck.

"m- mmhmm... m'sorry I r- really am... please." his pleads fell on deaf ears as you only admired his body, and how it reacted in the mirror. you sensed he was about to peak when you decide to take it away all of a sudden.

"ahhn- p- please! fffuck I'll be good, I swear."

you hum, kissing his cheek gently. "promise?" is all you muttered out, by the time his orgasm already went away. he sighs pensively. slowly starting to drag your palm over his cock once more, making him start to whimper again.

"y...yeah I really do. please? need you inside—" and before he knows it, you already have him flipped onto his stomach, his ass up in the air for you, cock only throbbing harder at the sound of your belt unbuckling.

definitely in for a treat now!

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pricesprincess · 3 months ago

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Just read your jealous sex with Simon fic and lovedddd it. If possible could we get exes to lovers (again) sex with Soap ? Maybe they show up at a mutual friend’s wedding and there are unrequited feelings so they wanna talk it out but don’t want any one to see them and then oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck…? ❤️

smut mdni | fat fem reader | oc! characters | this ended up being 2k | thank you so much! i'm glad you enjoyed it and i love this idea so much please kjnbrtr

requests are open

a warm breeze floated by bringing forth the scent of the heavily scented floral arrangement by the front doors of the barn where your best friend and one of soap's best friends were getting married.

it was ironic because a wedding wasn't something you were interested in with johnny because the not knowing would kill you, the no phone calls and anytime there's a knock at the door you cringe.

even though he wanted to make you his wife. little did you know he was telling people you're his ol lady when you weren't around.

the double doors were wheeled wide open to let the sunshine through the old woods highlighting the dust that was kicked up by people moving about, it was an hour before the actual wedding.

while everyone was running around you stood near becca as she ordered the people around which got colin and soap's attention, his eyes were trained on you though as he followed the flow of your dress, it wasn't even your bridesmaid one either.

to him, you were the most beautiful woman so you didn't need a fancy dress to impress him or make him swoon harder for you.

your stomach twisted in knots, making it hard to concentrate on what becca was saying when you could still feel johnny's gaze bore into the side of your head as you tried to help your friend out.

since you showed up at the venue three hours ago you've been ignoring soap the best you could to avoid those pesky feelings that threatened to choke you.

"sorry, i didn't even think about soap with all the planning." becca murmured when she noticed your attention elsewhere.

you shrugged your shoulders and turned your back to him still able to feel his eyes now on your ass that only made his pants tight, since the breakup johnny hasn't been able to be with anyone since then.

just the thought alone of touching another woman that wasn't you felt like cheating even though your stuff was moved out of his apartment a while ago. becca has been your best friend since elementary and when you introduced johnny to colin they clicked.

your eyes strayed off again to johnny hating the way you found yourself wanting to fix his hair, it was obvious he went back to the three-in-one shampoo and conditioner and body wash because he forgot the brand you used to buy him to make his hair silky.

there was still things you wanted to tell johnny and work through them but you didn't want anyone to see you both talking because that would only start rumors you didn't want spreading about.

trying to distract yourself you went outside and helped with the florists finish up the arrangements that gave you a headache, the scent was too strong but it was better than drooling over johnny.

you did everything you could to avoid any conversation with him and to make the time fly by so you could collapse on the hotel bed you got for the next several evenings, there was a lot of planning so you decided to make it a bit of a vacation as well.

colin approached you an hour before the wedding started stopping you from entering becca's room to help her with the dress. "soap is a mess." he murmured in a hushed tone as you rolled your eyes.

"then he can clean himself up i'm sure, after all, his name is soap."

it was becca and colin's day which you didn't want to ruin but johnny having his friend try to get to you only made your skin prickle with a deep irritation that set your soul aflame. "oh, becca!" you cried.

all the feelings you had were instantly swept under the rug the moment you saw her standing in the white dress she picked out months prior and albeit you've seen it already she still took your breath away then pesky thoughts of you in a dress popped up.

pushing away the mental images of johnny seeing you for the first time and how he would start bawling on the spot made your throat tighten. "you can't cry or you'll make me cry!" becca laughed as she hugged you tightly before pulling away holding your shoulders.

crystal tears glittered in the corner of your eyes as you looked at her, thinking of all the conversations you had growing up about this day.

"if you let that stuff go you and johnny could be as happy as colin and me." she reminded you before letting go once the music started.

her words played over and over in your head like a broken record as you and johnny met up at the end of the aisle, no doubt done by becca's mom who is trying herself to get you both back together.

over all the years she's known you, she has never seen you happy like when you're with johnny, it was clear the man made you happy but you let fear and anxiety ruin the relationship and future.

"ya look stunning sweetheart." johnny whispered before you both parted and stood on your respective sides, his eyes still focused on you with a small smile knowing his compliment made you warm.

ignoring him you watched with a teary gaze as becca and colin exchanged vows, promising one another to be there until the end of time causing a lump to grow in your throat as you glanced at soap.

his eyes pierced your soul everything faded away like glitter being blown away and it was you and him getting married instead then awful images of that dreaded home visit made you look away.

it was a fear that you couldn't quite get out of your head, losing johnny would mean your certain death as well, loving him too much and too hard was something you never regretted though.

the moment they kissed and made their way down the aisle you waited for everyone to go first before falling into line with johnny. "can we talk?" he asked using that puppy dog look that made you weak, for a grown man to do something get it down made you laugh.

you looked around watching as everyone made their way to the other barn across the way for the dancing and afterparty. "for a moment."

guiding johnny to the first door you found which was a dark closet for cleaning supplies, the smell of it made you scrunch your nose as he moved closer to you once the doors were shut. "i miss you angel."

the nickname soap used for you never failed to make your stomach break into a million butterflies that flapped against each other making a home in your belly. "i know, i read all the emails soap."

over the last three months, he sent you one each day, asking about you before detailing his day, even down to the time he saw a chubby baby and played peek-a-boo with her. "you do?" that was a shock.

"why wouldn't i? i..." you couldn't force those three words out, the letters tangling together like a ball of yarn in your throat.

being so close to him in such a tight space made your heart flutter and your skin break out in goosebumps along with a heat that made you uncomfortable as you shifted your weight between your feet.

johnny stepped forward, his heady scent wafted around you like a warm blanket from the dryer as you looked at him feeling your jaw go slack when his breath mingled with yours. "you what?" he hummed.

there was nowhere for you to go or to lean back against so you stayed rooted in your spot and played with his tie, he was going to make you say it. "you what?" soap pushed again with a louder tone.

"don't be so loud!" you murmured and slapped your palm over his mouth with a huff as you pulled away with an eye roll.

telling johnny how you still loved him more than anything would fix a lot in your life but also it felt like it would only cause more heartbreak. "i love you johnny, damn you and those eyes of yours and the way you hold me and you know when i'm having a rough day with a look."

those words being spilled was like the thread that sewed his broken heart back together. johnny grasped your jaw in one hand no problem to pull you forward and meet his lips in a heated kiss.

it was a teeth-clanking and tongue-tangling makeout session as his hands roamed your body down and over your curves, so he could grope your ass, like two lost lovers you unbuttoned his shirt to feel his chest and stomach groaning at how the muscles contracted.

johhny's hands gripped your dress bunching it up around your thick hips so he could slide his hand in your panties to rub the wet part with a dark chuckle. "no one can make my girl feel so good."

you watched as he dropped to his knees to nuzzle his face between your now spread thighs, his mouth leaving head dizzying kisses along the seam of your cunt making you whine and grip his hair with a huff.

with his help, you rested one hand on top of his shoulders gasping when he moved your panties to the side to kiss your clit with enough pressure to make you squirm with delight and licks that drove you wild as he kept you on the edge while his free hand jerked himself off.

johnny devoured you messily, his tongue tracing each inch of your pussy until he ended back at your swollen pearl giving it more kitten licks and kisses while you jerked your hips. "please soap please."

your begging was so pretty and airy as you felt tears well in your eyes again but this time for a different reason as the air in the closet smelled like sex and want as your cunt drooled in soap's mouth.

one more stroke of his tongue and you came, your cunt fluttering around nothing as you rode out your high until you were tugging on johnny's shoulder with a whine. "fuck me please i need your dick."

soap growled low in his throat giving his cock a squeeze before standing up and licking his lips. with his help, johnny set you on a table and spread your legs obscenely wide open while leaning in.

his mouth found yours in a kiss that made your toes curl as you wrapped your legs around his waist while trailing your hand down his chest to his pants to free his aching cock that sprung free.

the tip rubbed against your slick entrance in a teasing manner as he nipped your bottom lip with a grin hearing you gasp and whine again in his mouth feeling him sink inside your warm heat with a groan.

from being in a cramped closet there was no escaping johhny or his touch, his fingers pinched your nipples once your breasts were tugged free from the top of your bridesmaid dress while his tongue licked into your mouth tasting the sweet champagne you had.

you clung to johnny like he was your lifeline, your fingers curling into the collar of his jacket while you moaned into his mouth feeling his cock drag through your silken walls hitting that special spot.

thankfully no one walked by the closet otherwise they'd hear you getting your brains fucked loose until it turned into mush and oozed from your ears. "fuck me johhny harder please i love you so much!"

your voice was slurry from becoming cock drunk, your hips jerking to meet johnny's sloppy thrusts, the way your wet cunt squelched and milked him it was clear he was struggling not to cum yet.

his hips snapped forward roughly spearing you on his fat length making you squeal as your orgasm hit you like a train dragging johnny down with you in the flames of bliss and a hazy pleasure.

he held your waist and stayed nestled deep inside your pussy while kissing you over again until your chin burned from his scruff. "i love you too angel, be mine again?" he asked with those puppy dog eyes.

"how can i say no?" you teased wrapping your arms around his neck to pepper his face in honey sweet kisses.

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3

#📬mailbox #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod smut #cod x reader smut #johnny smut #soap x reader smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x you #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap smut #john soap mactavish x reader #honeywrites

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cloudcountry · 2 years ago

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headpats from little shrimpy!

Genre/Tropes: Mutual pining.

Summary: Floyd doesn't know if YOU know that merpeople show they're interested in each other with physical contact, but one head pat from you and he's lost all forms of self restraint. Oops!

Author's Comments: Okay as someone who is HEAVILY FIXATED on moray eels and knows too many things about them and how they interact with other morays (+ shrimp in mcs case) this is such a TREAT. I LOVE THIS. Granted it's not scientific at all but still. Cute.

~~~~~

It would have been such an unimportant action to anyone else.

Having a cute little Shrimpy pat you on the head as they passed by with the monthly earnings of the Mostro Lounge wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else.

But it mattered to Floyd Leech.

It mattered a lot.

It mattered so much, in fact, that he froze in his chair and stared at your retreating back. Was it just his imagination, or were you walking faster? Jolting out of his seat, he made a run for you and prayed he’d catch you before you disappeared into Azul’s office.

Unfortunately, you made it. Boo. No fun.

Floyd pouted, jiggling the locked doorknob. Azul had a habit of locking it when he was in a meeting, and that’s exactly what he told Floyd after he told him to go away.

How unfair! His Shrimpy was in there!

Officially in a sour mood, Floyd went back to the booth he was sitting in and pouted. He’d just wait for you to come out and grill you with questions! Yeah, he could do that!

...

Floyd Leech could not do that.

He ended up pacing around the Mostro Lounge for a few hours, passing through the kitchen to talk to Jade before he got bored again.

“Did you see Shrimpy pass through here?” Floyd asked, poking his head into the kitchen for the seventh time, “I’ve been waiting for them but they haven’t come out of the VIP Room!”

“The Prefect? They left about ten minutes ago.” Jade hummed, focusing on his simmering cream of mushroom soup.

Floyd wrinkled his nose at the pot before darting away from the kitchen, intent on finding you before you escaped from him once again. You must have slipped out while he wasn’t looking! You couldn’t just pat his head and not say anything!

It wasn’t like you knew the implications, but physical touch was a way for merfolk to show that they were romantically interested in each other. Floyd felt his mood souring even more when he realized that you might have just done that to do it. It might have not even meant anything to you.

“Boo. Shrimpy better have meant it.” he huffed.

It was like the entire school could tell that Floyd was in a bad mood, because nobody dared to stop him as he ran through the halls. Riddle looked as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he ducked into a nearby classroom. Floyd didn’t have time to antagonize him right now, though—finding Shrimpy and asking them about their head pat was more important!

Before he knew it, Floyd was bursting through the Ramshackle gate and sprinting up to your front door. You weren’t anywhere to be seen on the front lawn, so Floyd hoped you were inside. If he had to look for you any longer he’d be grumpy for the next week.

“Shrimpyyyy!” he called out, cupping his mouth so the sound would travel farther, “Lemme in! I wanna talk to you!”

He heard loud thumping inside as you rushed down the stairs, the sound of the lock on the door jiggling making him bounce on the tips of his toes.

“Shrimpy!” he beamed, throwing his arms around you the second the door was open.

“Hi, Floyd.” you wrapped your arms around him awkwardly as he leaned over you, crushing you against his chest.

“Hey, hey! Didja mean it? You better have meant it!” he pulled away only to shake you by the shoulders, “If you didn’t mean it I’m gonna be so upset!”

“Oh...Oh, that.” you mumbled, squirming in his hold, “I...You mean the head pat, right?”

“Yes!” he whined, shaking you harder, “Do you like me like that?!”

“Like what?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“Like you wanna date me!” Floyd huffed, finally letting you go.

He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, eyes glued to your face in hopes of an answer. You felt your face heat up at the scrutiny, turning away so you didn’t have to look directly at him.

“Well...yeah.” you mumbled, “I asked Jade what I could do to, um...make you realize that I like you. And he told me that merpeople...really value physical contact? So I thought if I just gave you a head pat that might be good enough...? And I guess it was.”

“Awww, that’s so cute. You went to Jade for help?” Floyd laughed, the high pitched giggles easing your nerves just a bit, “Well lucky you, Shrimpy! I accept. Now come here.”

Floyd pulled you back into his chest and patted your head gently, and you allowed yourself to sink into his embrace.

“Cute Shrimpy.” he giggled into your hair, squeezing you tightly, “I’m gonna squeeze you every day now!”

#auburn's fics <3 #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech is a silly guy #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd fluff

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anundyingfidelity · 10 months ago

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heyy, how are youu? hope youre doing great!! congratss on your 400 followers 🎉!! i saw that you open a request maybe you would write a drabble for dark!soldier boy since theres not much dark fics about him and ive been craving it so badly. please and thank youu!! 💓💓

hellooo, i am doing good! thANK YOU SO MUCH! absoutely i will! since there's no specific details i just went with it for a dark!soldier boy drabble with a mix of stuff. i hope you like this one! :)

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

CRUEL INTENTIONS — Dark!Soldier Boy x female reader

Word count: 590 (oops).

Genre: dark stuff, smut.

Warnings: dark!soldier boy, dub-con, p in v smut, mentions of pain, dacryphilia, innocent!reader, corruption, degradation, soldier boy is obsessed with reader.

Since the first time he saw you around the Vought building, Soldier Boy knew he had to have you. No matter what. Having you under his mercy was his ultimate goal.

You were a new secretary around. So innocent, so pure, and full of life and joy, getting into the supe business making boring tasks and jobs designated to women like you. But Soldier Boy saw you enjoying all of that. You always arrived early to work, with a smile that would brighten the day of any idiot by your side. Your laugh was sweet and perfectly created to be ruined, only by him. To your lovely voice to be converted into pleas and cries.

After days of not so subtly hitting on you, playing the nice gentleman, he had you under his skin using lies and a couple of threats. Soldier Boy remembered the way you accepted his invitation to his annual ‘private party’ without specifying any further details. The party that was Herogasm. And now, he fucked you into oblivion over a rustic wood desk, taking in the tightness of your cunt around his dick and the sinful moans slipping from your sore throat. His eyes taking in the sinful sight of his cock entering your tight pussy, walls clenching around him yet again as you reached your peak. Soldier Boy already lost count of how many times he had made you cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me,” he hissed. His thrusts never stopped, instead increased their rhythm. “Look how much you’ve come because of my cock. Am I that good, my little slut?”

You looked away, shutting your eyes closed as you felt another orgasm building inside you, pleading with a broken voice. “Please, please…”

The tears were already coating your flushed face, ashamed of what was happening and not sure if it was right. He was just using you. But at the same time, you wanted more of him. Soldier Boy already bent you over every surface of the room, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you, handling you like if you were just a mere ragdoll for him to play with as much as he wanted, taking you apart from the whole orgy that was showing outside. He was fucking insatiable, barely getting rid of his helmet and just taking out his hard cock to fuck your mouth and then get buried inside your tight cunt. At first, you weren’t sure about letting him fuck his way with you, but his voice and promises of pleasure were more than sufficient to somehow give in.

“Jesus Christ, your pussy feels like heaven,” he breathed, increasing the tightness of his grip on your hips.

Even if your thighs felt like burning, that your whole body was under ache due to the hard grips on you, you needed him. And he was going to make you his little plaything. He smirked as you, one more time, dissolved into the sweet and painful pleasure of cuming around his girth, letting out a sinful moan that mingled with the animalistic sounds of women and men fucking like beasts outside the room. He hissed with anticipation, his lustful eyes lingering over your teary face as he slowed down his thrusts. Fuck, he wanted nothing more but to make you cry harder.

“Sweetheart, I still need to cum,” he purred, wiping the tears rolling down your skin.

You sobbed, catching your breath. “I’m tired.”

“Just a couple more rounds, you’ll do it, baby.”

Soldier Boy was being kind to you. Next time he wouldn’t go that easy.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy smut #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #the boys soldier boy #400followerstag!

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burningembers91 · 12 days ago

Text

Sweet Like Chocolate - Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

War-Torn Love Keeping Hope Alive

Synopsis: When your services are required in the trauma centre, emotions between you and Baek Kang-Hyuk bubble over.

Baek Kang-Hyuk had photos of every patient he’d ever saved. Their frames adorned every inch of every wall in his office, spread across every spare surface of his windowsill and desk. There were twenty years’ worth of stories in those photos, each one representing a life he had saved. There was only one person he’d never managed to take a photo with, the one life that had meant the most to him out of everyone: you.

Your face had plagued both his nightmares and his dreams for the last two years, visions of both saving and losing you that kept him awake at night. Kang-Hyuk had searched so desperately for you, but never had he imagined that he would find you more broken than you were that day he found you on the roadside. The woman he knew was no longer there, replaced by a sad, scared, bitter shell. He knew the old you was somewhere deep down inside, and he kicked himself time and time again at his decision to let you leave on that helicopter without him. If he’d been with you, he could have made sure you got therapy, that your scars were properly tended to and cared for. You were his patient, and he had failed you.

After that day in your office, he made sure he took the long way round to the trauma centre each day, just so he could pass by your office. Your conversation had shattered him, had left him heartbroken at the way you viewed yourself. You were still so beautiful to Kang-Hyuk, still as perfect as you were the day he’d first laid eyes on you. He could tell the fight in you was still there; it was evident in your sheer determination to avoid him at all costs.

You didn’t want Kang-Hyuk’s pity, you didn’t want to be something he needed to fix. He’d always had this incessant need to help every single person he came across, his desire to heal broken people almost an obsession. You wanted to let him help you, wanted to open yourself up to the man you’d fallen in love with, but you were so ashamed. You were ashamed of the way you looked, of the way your damaged leg felt like something that wasn’t part of you anymore. You were ashamed of how bitter you’d become, viewing the world with a constant sour taste in your mouth. You were ashamed that you didn’t want to let Kang-Hyuk love you, when it was quite clear he’d never given up hope when it came to you. You did your best to avoid him, for both your sake and his, but nothing lasted forever, and eventually you had to face the music.

The trauma centre was already wildly understaffed, and the essential paperwork required for each case was in desperate need of sorting. Your name had been pulled, requested by Kang-Hyuk himself, to go and assist in bringing the paper trail up to speed. You’d argued profusely, but once Kang-Hyuk had made up his mind, there was no turning back.

You found yourself standing outside his office, your arms folded across your chest as you waited for him to answer your knock. Your blood was boiling, a deep raging simmering inside your veins. How many times did you need to make it clear that you didn’t want his help? Did he really think that trapping you in his stuffy office with a mountain of casework was going to make a difference? “Come in!” His voice sounded through the thick wooden door, and you pushed it open a little harder than you’d intended, sending the door crashing back into the pristine white wall behind it. “Oops,” you muttered, marching over to the spare desk that had been set up for you. Your eyes immediately went to the wall in front of you, covered from floor to ceiling in pictures. In each one of them Kang-Hyuk posed with a different person, from all walks of life, each one beaming into the camera. He’d told you about his polaroids, about his need to capture the image of every life he’d saved. He’d told you that losing a patient was the single worst feeling he experienced, and each one hurt more than the last. He kept photos of all the people he’d saved to remind himself on dark days that he had made a difference.

There was one frame, directly behind his desk that didn’t have a photo in. It was a dark brown frame, and in place of a photo was a chocolate bar wrapper. You were instantly transported back to the refugee hospital in Afghanistan. That night, you and Kang-Hyuk had shared that bar of chocolate, savouring the sweet, rich cocoa as it melted on your tongue. That was the first night he’d kissed you, his hands gripping onto your waist as you held each other in the darkened hallway. You hadn’t been able to eat that brand of chocolate since, the memory of that night too painful for you. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel his lips on yours, could still taste the chocolate on your tongue. If you focused hard enough, you could still remember how his breath felt against your neck, how his voice sounded when he whispered your name.

Kang-Hyuk watched you as you took in the frame, saw the tears spring to your eyes as the memories came flooding back. He could still remember how you tasted that night, the chocolate mixed with your shea butter lip balm. He could still remember how soft your skin was, how sweet your moans were as his lips caressed the soft contours of your jawline and neck. That wrapper was the only thing he had to connect himself to you, the one physical piece of evidence he had that his feelings for you hadn’t been a dream. “You kept it,” you whispered, your eyes not leaving the frame. “It was the only thing I had of you,” Kang-Hyuk replied, pushing his chair back and gingerly making his way towards you. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he needed to close the gap between you, needed to be as close to you as you’d let him.

You could feel the energy between you, the atoms in the air almost vibrating with the tension. It took every ounce of your strength not to reach out and touch him. You knew you both wanted it; both wanted to close the gap and pick up from where you’d left off. But your embarrassment and shame were too great, the damage not something you wanted Kang-Hyuk to see. “I never got a photo of you,” he smiled, “so I used the chocolate wrapper in its place. It was stupid-“ “It’s not stupid,” you told him, “I think it’s sweet.”

He sighed, perching on the edge of his desk as you looked at you. “I regret leaving you every day,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I never should have left your side. I never should have let you get on that helicopter alone.” “Kang-Hyuk,” you smiled sadly, “we both know you couldn’t have gone with me. There were too many others who needed saving. You did the right thing. It’s my fault I didn’t get the help I needed.” “But I should have been there for you,” he cried, slamming his fist down on his desk in frustration. “I would have told you every day how beautiful I think you are. I would have made sure you never doubted yourself.”

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, “this is all on me. I didn’t get help; I didn’t try and fix myself. I looked in the mirror, hated what I saw and didn’t bother to try and change anything.” Tears spilled down your cheeks, a shuddering sob wracking your body. Kang-Hyuk pulled you into him, his arms closing tightly around you. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings until your tears had dried. “I never stopped loving you,” he said, “not once.” “I know,” you sniffed, your mascara stains smeared across his white lab coat. “I never stopped loving you either. I just stopped loving myself.”

His hands cupped your cheeks, wiping away the smudged makeup under your eyes. You wanted him to kiss you, wanted him to take away the last two years’ worth of pain and self-torment you’d put yourself through. Kang-Hyuk learned forward, his lips brushing against yours. That one small, delicate touch was enough to send a spark of desire through your body, every cell of your being alight for the man who had saved you. “Kiss me,” you whispered, your desire for him almost overwhelming.

Just before his lips touched yours, his phone rang, breaking the delicate intimacy of the moment. “I have to get this,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as he fought between his love for you and his duty to his patients. “I know,” you smiled sadly, clinging to his chest as he answered the call. “I have to go,” he whispered, a few seconds later. “There’s been a crash, they need me on site…” “Go,” you told him, “We can talk when you’re back.” “Wait for me,” he pleaded, “I have so much I want to say.”

Looking back at the desk he’d set up for you, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you joking me?” you smiled, “have you seen the mountain of paperwork you’ve given me? I’ll be here for days.” You watched him leave, listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps echoing off the linoleum floors. You would make sure you stayed this time, promised yourself you wouldn’t run and hide. Time and time again, Kang-Hyuk had shown you that he wasn’t going to give up on you. You never should have given up on yourself, never should have allowed yourself to sink into such a deep, dark hole.

You were tired of living inside a shell, of hiding away from the world. You couldn’t change what happened to you, couldn’t change the decisions you’d made since that fateful day. But you could change what happened next. You could decide to let Kang-Hyuk back in, to pick up where you left off. He still needed that Polaroid of you, the picture of his most precious patient to hang on the wall.

And you needed to allow yourself to open up, to let back in the man who had never given up on you.

#the trauma code: heroes on call #baek kang hyuk x you #baek kang hyuk x reader #ju ji hoon

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bedoballoons · 1 year ago

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Hello! Just wanted to say I LUV ur workss!

I also have a little smth

Basically they take the reader out shopping specifically for undergarments and someone just so happens to walk in? W/ kazuha, albedo, lyney, xiao?

Awe thank you! I'm glad you do and I hope I can keep it up! Apologies for your request taking so long, but I hope you enjoy even so!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~You look mighty fine~༺}

CW: Very suggestive! MDNI! Almost smut but not! Established relationships! Gn pronouns used! Heated makeouts and the characters are kinda pervy cause they peek in on the reader! Modern au! Use of the words undies, panties etc.

(Includes: Lyney, Albedo, Kazuha, And Xiao!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney's hands drummed against the armrest of his chair. All around him were others shopping for lacy undergarments and lingerie, but he was entirely to infatuated with the changing room to even care. Just knowing you were in there, trying on those enticing things, oh how it made his heart race...you were so close..just a peek and he could see exactly what you'd gotten for him. It was so tempting..

"Only a few more minutes I swear! Just trying on this one...it's a bit strappy though.."

Lyney chocked on air, trying to not think about what that could mean...but wanting so desperately to find out. Just. One. Peek. "Take your time Mon amour!" Perhaps this wasn't appropriate of him...he could really wait a bit longer, but his body was already in motion. Hand reaching out to touch the curtain and slightly open it..

You smiled to yourself, spinning around like you had no idea what he was doing, "Lyney? W-what are you-"

"Mon amour, apologies to interrupt you and invade your privacy...but I...I..nevermind words just let me have you." He pulled you close, kissing your soft lips as his hands ran down your body, snapping the straps of your undies so it would gently smack your skin. You made him absolutely dizzy with need, groans spilling out of him as the kiss grew more heated. If you didn't hurry and finish your shopping...you might just get kicked out of the store~

𑁍༄Albedo:

Albedo leaned his head back against the frame of the changing room, forcing himself to not glance into the parting between the curtain door and the frame itself...he had no idea shopping for new undergarments for you would leave him so...heated.

It felt like the store was growing warmer by the second, like the thoughts in his head were slowly corrupting him...he couldn't help it really. You were a masterpiece, your body a work of art...and the vivid picture of your trying on perfect little undies for him..."How much longer did you say love?"

"Not long! Just making sure the thong part fits as nice as it should! Oops I mean, just triple checking they fit~"

Albedos legs went numb for a second, his face dusted with a sweet pink hue...were you really trying on such a thing mere inches away from him? His heart began to beat harder in his chest, maybe if he had a bit more will power he could have stopped himself, but alas his eyes glanced into the small gap and there you were. Standing there so beautiful with your body basically on display for him...

He held back a soft moan, looking away almost as fast as he had peeked..."L-love...I think the fit is perfect, please I'm...in deserpate need to return home.."

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha loved shopping with you, wandering around the the mall aimlessly while you glanced in windows and occasionally tried things on. It was always such a soft couple experience that brought you two closer...

But now you'd decided to shop for new undies. Bringing him along as you picked out various lacy ones...themed ones, red ones, black ones, all while he trailed behind you with a bright red blush. He was a creative person, always envisioning things in a calming, breath taking way...and you were no exception. He kept thinking about all the different choices, picturing what they'd look like on you...what he'd do while you wore them.

It was starting to get a bit much for him...his own imagination swaying how he'd normally handle himself..

"Kazu? Are you doin okay? You look a bit red in the face.." You closed the curtain behind you, trying to get ahold of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you took of your clothing, intentionally leaving them visible on the ground while you started to try on the choices.

"Yes...no....?"

"What? Kazuha, what does that mean?" You paused for a moment, waiting for a answer..., but he'd already entered the small room. His warm hands gently grabbing onto your hips so he could pull you close...kiss you passionately while every so often opening his eyes to catch a glimpse of you in the mirror...

His lips trailed down to your neck, his body forcing yours against the changing room walls...maybe he should shop with you for these items more often~

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao sighed softly, watching the ground beneath his feet...wondering how such a simple shopping date had become such a flustering event. He wasn't even sure how you'd even convinced him to walk into the undergarment section...let alone try some on while he was just outside. He could hear you changing...see your clothes fall to floor out of the corner of his eye..

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"How...how many are you going to try?" His voice sounded strained..., like he was bound by something and he silently cursed himself for the neediness that coated each word.

"Just a few! What did you think of the sheer one hmm? It's super soft and I love it!"

He swallowed roughly, remembering the basically see through panties that you'd held up to him...the idea of you wearing them sent a shiver down his spine, "T-they were good."

"Good as in like I should get them, or good as in I could do better? Because I think they are hugging me in all the right places."

"Archons above..." He muttered...knowing that any grip he had on himself had been let go as he slipped into the room with you. His eyes ravaged you, taking in how the undies emphasized everything in the most perfect ways...

"X-xiao-"

"Enough." He leaned in close, his face barely a inch away from yours...his breath hot on your skin, "I'm not patient enough to do nothing...let me have you~"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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emidescent · 1 month ago

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Can it run bloom?

A HDG Microfic.

Featuring a robot girl, file overwriting and sensory play.

Digitisation wasn't really a question for me.

It was a solution, I didn't even need to ask for it. Mistress just knew.

I didn't even know it was happening until I noticed the headaches were gone. Well, I actually noticed the lack of coordination loss from the medication that stopped the headaches.

I took my newfound dexterity a little too far though and Mistress decided to dial it back for me.

Gosh, I love it when she plays with me.

It's been a few weeks since I transferred into my new body, and now, things are basically perfect all the time.

I can think more clearly.

When Mistress lets me.

I'm a lot more durable during impact play.

Now she can be rougher.

And I don't get tired, so I can keep up with my pinnate a lot more easily!

—

I felt a vine slide between the joints at my waist and I froze, suppressing a shiver.

I felt my backplate pop open.

“Time for some maintenance~” I heard-

No, I felt her say in the air around me.

Before I could reply I felt my voice taken from me.

“We won't be needing this~”

She giggled, setting my voice modulator on a table.

She held out an apple for me, I took it in my right hand, she knew how much I loved them, even going so far as to ensure my body could taste, just so I could enjoy them.

I felt her prod my back and my arm went limp, the apple falling down to the floor before being caught just shy of the carpet.

Her hand cupped mine from underneath and lifted it back into view, the apple back in my grasp.

“Silly little thing, that's not how you hold an apple~”

I couldn't feel it, I couldn't feel her touch.

But I could see the way she caressed my hand, the way her little vines slipped between the plates of my arm gingerly.

I whimpered silently, I needed to feel her.

I needed-

I felt something click into my back, not fully, just a little.

Feeling returned to my arm, just a bit.

Enough to feel her caressing beneath the surface. Enough to crave more.

I felt my back clicking again, and I cried out in silent static. Overwhelmed my arm as I felt Mistresses touch so intimately I felt her hand caress my own as though she were touching my very self, her vines exploring deeper, claiming the deepest parts of me as her own. I squeezed hard on the apple and it began to crush in my grip.

The juice slipped between my fingers and into my joints. It felt nice.

More exploring in my back. And the feeling normalised, I settled, my mind slowly recovering, twitching as my senses readjusted.

“Oops~”

Mistress giggled.

“Now for the code”

Without giving me any time to recover, I felt her slip a memory card into me.

It immediately began copying to my database.

I felt the information slide over me, fill me.

It rewrote my obedience parameters.

It… got a lot harder to disobey.

Not that I wanted to anyway.

I saw her face appear in my vision briefly, smiling brightly at me.

“Perfect~”

Mistress picked me up under the shoulders and carried me into the living room. She sat me on the carpet near the couch. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my pinnate, Lady Amira peering over the edge. Her tail waving back and forth curiously.

Once I was set down and positioned with crossed legs.

Mistress grabbed my pinnate and set her in my lap.

Lady Amira looked intently at me and sniffed a few times. Then giggled,

“Eris, you look really pretty”

I would have blushed, but that wasn't really under my control.

“Eris has something special to show you little flower~”

Mistress purred, holding up my left hand and placing it in Amira’s.

“This one controls the movement” she twisted my hand around slightly and interlocked our fingers, guiding Amira's hand and directing her to look into my eyes.

Her eyes brightened as she stared into me. Excitement limited only by mistresses restraining vine on her shoulder.

“This one is how you aim~”

She interlocked our other hands and Amira giggled, “miiiiissss, it's wet”

She hand up the hand that once contained the apple, and was still dripping gently with leftover juice.

“Better clean it then~”

She suggested

Amira didn't delay, her tongue sliding over each of my fingers in turn, finishing each off with a gentle suck from joint to fingertip.

I felt every moment, every drag of her coarse tongue, every excited venture between my joints to chase down the sweet liquid.

My mind was fuzzy with static and I almost whined when she stopped and took my hand in hers again.

She squeezed my hands and looked into my eyes again, I couldn't see what she was doing, but I could feel it.

She filled my vision and became my everything, mistresses gentle rhythm encouraging the connection as she browsed through my files.

Searching through the new additions.

She looked up at Mistress briefly, a question on her lips.

Mistress turned her back to me, and quickly got lost once again.

“Yes petal, she can run bloom”

#hdg #floretposting

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month ago

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coming in clutch

@starrystevie asked two days ago for someone to write enemies to lovers Steddie on the same hockey team and one of them gives the other his stick from the bench and so I volunteered and yesterday afternoon started writing this and it got to almost 6000 words by this morning. Oops?

This is therapy for me, as a Bruins fan, who is suffering tremendously this season. I can't believe some people live like this all the time. I am so, so sorry. I promise you fixing it with Steddie helps ease the ache a little. It's bitch4bitch, what's not to love?

rated e, minors dni | 5801 words | also on ao3 | cw: mention of injury, hate making out for the drama | tags: modern au, hockey au, enemies to lovers, feelings realization, sorta love confessions, anal fingering, anal sex, handjob, life is a series of connections

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

If there’s one thing Eddie Munson knows, it’s that Steve Harrington will steal the show.

With less than two minutes left in the game that will determine if they clinch the wild card spot for the playoffs, it could still go either way. They need a goal to tie it, and the point will be enough to get in, even if they lose in overtime.

The Rangers don’t even get anything if they win this one except a pat on the back, yet they’ve pulled their goalie in hopes of ruining the only chance the Bruins have of getting into the playoffs. If Eddie wasn’t seething with rage about potentially starting his offseason much sooner than expected, he’d respect the hell out of them for it.

How they got into this much of a mess is beyond him…or really it isn’t. It’s well within reach.

He knows from the beginning shit was hitting the fan and then it just…kept hitting the fan.

They started bad and they don’t play well from behind in games, so how could they catch up when their entire season went to shit so early on?

It should never come down to one win, not for them.

But he knows that some of the issues are that Steve was handed this captaincy before he was ready, and Eddie’s done nothing to truly help him. He wears an A, but it’s more for Asshole or Annoyance than Assistant. He knows it, Steve knows it, the team knows it.

It’s making everything harder.

Coach already lit him up a few times over stupid shit this season, things he can’t get away with for much longer. His time will be cut short on this team if he can’t-

The whistle blows and there’s a penalty on Hargrove. Not surprising, but it’s enough to get Eddie out of his own head and focus. There’s barely a minute left and they’re facing a long offseason if they don’t get their shit together.

He won’t see more ice time today. He’s third line right now, a demotion from his usual first line after a string of shitty, stupid penalties. Coach will send the first line back out for the last minute to increase their chances of scoring.

The puck drops and they make the fastest line change they’ve managed the entire game.

Steve’s skating to the puck, eyes on the prize. He’s good at it, despite Eddie hating that he feels constant competition with him. They don’t even play the same position. Eddie’s a defenseman for fuck sake. Steve’s a center. The only competition is what’s made up in his own head.

Steve gets there first, manages to pass it to Sinclair, who passes it to Hagan. It’s beautiful, but it’s not enough.

The puck is cleared out and they have to rush to it to start setting up again.

They don’t have time.

And then Steve tries to shoot it to center ice and his stick breaks. It’s the worst timing. Eddie feels his heart sink in his chest at the realization that this is it. They’re done.

Steve’s skating to the bench, yelling about needing a replacement when he should just get off the ice, let someone else out there. They’re gonna lose anyway.

Eddie throws Steve his own stick. It’s not the right curve, and not the right length. It’s not even the same brand.

But if there’s one thing Eddie can respect about Steve, it’s that he’s a damn good player. He makes shit happen, even when no one else can. He’s been their saving grace this season, arguably the only reason they’ve managed to even have a shot at the wild card spot.

He may hate his guts, and he may be annoyed that he got picked as captain, and he may also find him impossible to be around most of the time, but he can see that he’s one of the best players in the league.

Steve’s never skated harder than in this moment, and Eddie can’t feel his face as Steve sneaks the puck between the legs of Wheeler, winds back, and shoots.

None of their players get to it in time.

It goes in their empty net.

The bench is so loud, Eddie can’t even hear himself think.

They’ve tied it up.

The clock says 24 seconds.

It’s as good as done.

They’ll have overtime, of course, but they squeaked in the playoffs. They get at least four more games.

Steve skates to the bench and hands Eddie his stick, but doesn’t say anything.

That irks Eddie a little.

“Not even a thank you for getting the assist on that one?” Eddie asks because if he’s one thing, it’s a shithead.

“Shut up, Munson. Could’ve scored an empty net from the locker room,” Steve replies with an eyeroll, his smile dropping in annoyance.

A for annoyance, after all.

“With a broken stick?” Eddie pushes because he loves to push and because Steve always pushes back.

It’s their game.

Steve sits on the bench, catches his breath for a moment while the arena celebrates his goal.

“How about a thank you for getting us to the playoffs?” Steve says back.

It’s unlike him to be self-centered like this. It throws Eddie off.

For once, he doesn’t have a damn thing to say.

The goalie gets back in the net and the Rangers finish off the regulation game with their tails tucked between their legs.

Eddie doesn’t get sent back out, but neither does Steve.

Coach leans down to say something in Steve’s ear and he grits his teeth together, jaw clenching painfully.

When they’re about to start overtime, Coach taps his back and tells him to go.

“But it’s first line?” Eddie asks.

“I said go, Munson!” Coach says, leaving no room for argument.

So Eddie goes. He’s not gonna argue with the coach, and he’s damn sure not gonna be the reason there’s a delay in starting.

He skates to the blue line and sees the focus on Steve’s eyes.

This game can end either way to him and he won’t care, but Steve wants this win. He wants the two points, not just one. He wants to say they overcame a shitty game to pull off a win.

He would never admit it, but his effort is for Steve. His speed and hits during the first shift are to give Steve every opportunity to pull off this win.

If Steve wins, they all win.

Eddie should have had that mindset for every game. Maybe they wouldn’t have had to fight for their lives just to get a shot at the playoffs.

It’s not a great shift, but they manage to shut the Rangers down a few times.

Steve is red-faced on the bench, watching the second line move with a fire they were lacking for much of the first 60 minutes. That’s been a pattern this season, something Eddie isn’t sure they’ll get over with this group.

It ends during the third line’s shift.

The Rangers get a breakaway and score.

It’s a loss, but they’ve still won something. They aren’t leaving completely empty-handed.

The walk down the tunnel is interrupted by the broadcast person yelling for Steve to stay back to do the post-game interview and accept third star of the game. It always sucks accepting a star away from home ice, but Steve’s used to it by now.

He’s the guy who comes in clutch. He’s always a star.

Eddie’s only a little jealous over it.

The rest of the team is pretty quiet despite their playoff spot.

Coach stands in the center of the room.

“We got lucky,” he says. His tone is calm, but there’s something hidden beneath it that Eddie can sense is anger. “We won’t get lucky in the first round. Get your shit together before next week or you might as well start scheduling your tropical vacations.”

He leaves the room.

No one says anything as they get undressed. No one speaks when Steve comes in the room and wordlessly undresses. No one utters a word when he’s the first to leave, even though that’s the first time that’s happened in the history of ever.

Eddie follows him.

He should give him space. Now isn’t the time to work him up more.

Now is the time to be a good teammate, a good alternate captain. Behave and follow the rules and be a good example off the ice. Leadership saw something in him to give him the A in the first place, now’s his chance to prove he respects them for it.

“Since when do you walk out without a speech?” Eddie calls after him when they’ve exited the building. This arena is relatively normal, but there’s a lower level of parking just for VIP. He doesn’t see anyone else yet, but that’s not surprising. Their bus is parked a few rows away, doors up to start loading equipment for the haul to the airport.

“Since there isn’t a damn thing I can say to get this team motivated and I’m done trying!” Steve yells back without turning. “If you’d like to try, go right ahead.”

“Doesn’t seem like something a captain would do.”

Steve freezes, turns.

His face is bright red and Eddie knows immediately he pushed too far.

“Maybe you should be the captain if you know so much about what it takes, hm? Maybe instead of passing me your stick to score you could score one once in a fucking while. Maybe,” Steve takes a shaky breath, exhales it right into Eddie’s face. He didn’t even notice how close he was before. “You could start acting like a leader and less like a fuckin’ nuisance.”

Eddie scoffs.

“I’m sorry I helped? Was I supposed to let the opportunity to score go? Would you rather have not tied the game? Do you wish we were going home for the summer instead of just the next few days?”

Steve’s chest is brushing against Eddie’s.

Neither of them showered, so there’s a faint scent of sweat clinging to his nostrils, but Steve must’ve freshened up with deodorant and cologne before getting changed. Cedar and pine overtakes the locker room smell as Eddie’s eyes dart down to Steve’s lips.

“Did you want me to do all the work for you?” Eddie grins.

It’s painful, when their lips crash together. Eddie doesn’t care.

Steve’s mad, he’s loud, and he tastes like victory. It has nothing to do with their game.

“C’mon,” Steve says against his lips, and Eddie isn’t sure exactly what he wants. They’re kissing in public, in a place that could be filled with their teammates any second. Steve’s hands are against his chest, pulling him impossibly closer by his shirt. “More. You want more out of me, take it.”

Eddie’s not always the smartest guy in the room. He’s, like, smart, but sometimes he misses some obvious shit. Unobservant, his uncle calls him.

But he can read people pretty well if he has a second to really see them and he thinks he’s seeing something Steve didn’t mean to show. He knows what Steve’s really asking and he knows he can give that to him.

“No.”

Steve stills. He pulls away, hurt clear on his face before he manages to school his features. It’s eery how quickly he was able to do it.

“Knew you weren’t up for it, anyways,” Steve mutters, but Eddie doesn’t let him walk away.

His grip on Steve’s wrist is tight enough to cut off circulation, tight enough to bruise. Steve doesn’t react at all.

“I’m not taking anything from you. You’re gonna take what you need from me.”

Steve’s brows furrow, and Eddie allows himself a moment— just one— to think that he’s cute like this. If they weren’t teammates, and if Eddie could stand him for more than a few minutes at a time, maybe they could do something.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“No? Like how you didn’t need my stick to score earlier?”

Steve’s mouth snaps closed, but Eddie doesn’t feel as smug as he normally would. He can hear voices coming and he knows that if they leave here now without something worked out, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.

“When we get back, come to my place,” Eddie orders.

“And if I don’t?”

Eddie laughs.

Steve likes to win. He’s gonna come just to see what his prize will be.

He boards the bus and ignores his half-hard dick in his slacks.

Steve always finds a way into his brain. And now he’s found a way into his bed.

~~~~~

The bus ride is quiet, but most of the guys are busy texting significant others and coming down from the adrenaline of the game. The flight is silent, everyone taking a power nap before they have to get back home. They’ll have a day off tomorrow, but most of these guys are married and have kids, or fiancées who haven’t quite figured out that a day off is needed for recovery, not for filling the calendar with other events.

Steve is far away from Eddie, barely even visible unless Eddie leans into the aisle and squints.

He doesn’t do that more than once, doesn’t wanna draw attention to whatever it is that’s happening between them.

Eddie is the first off the plane, but he walks slow enough to his car that a few teammates catch up and tell him his quick reaction saved their asses. He laughs and thanks them, tells them they��ve got some work to do if they’re gonna win the first round, and gets in his car.

Somehow, Steve’s already at his door when he gets home.

“Eager?” Eddie asks.

“You tell me,” Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and places it over his crotch. He’s already hard.

“Did you touch yourself on the way here?” Eddie feels like he’s been struck by lightning, energy zapping through him at the speed of light. Realizing Steve’s into this is rewiring his brain.

“Obviously,” Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie unlocks his door and pushes Steve inside. He pushes him down the hall and right onto the bed. He pushes until Steve pushes back.

“I thought I was taking from you,” Steve says as he sits up, taking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.

“You are. But only when I’m ready to give. I need a second,” Eddie says as he strips his own shirt off. He walks to his bathroom to throw some water on his face and pretend for a second that the sweat dripping down his spine isn’t a ridiculous reaction to Steve.

“It’s been a second!” Steve calls to him.

Eddie smirks at himself in the mirror before heading back to the bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I assume you’ve got something specific in mind?”

Steve eyes him up and down. “Take everything off.”

Eddie does as he says. Steve’s surprise that he didn’t argue is obvious.

“Get lube and condoms.”

Eddie reaches into his bedside drawer and gets out his unopened bottle of lube and the only three condoms he has that may or may not be expired. He doesn’t have time to fuck around much, and most of the time he does, it never gets far enough to need a condom.

His traitorous stomach swoops at the thought of Steve being inside him.

Steve looks at him like he’s starving and Eddie’s a five course meal on a table in front of him, and Eddie likes it. He likes that Steve wants to devour him.

He’s pulled into a bruising kiss, can taste blood on his tongue when he swallows spit that’s just as much Steve’s as his own. Eddie knows if they kiss like this for long enough, Steve will barely have to touch him at all to get him there.

As if reading his mind, Steve’s hand is on his dick, stroking it slow enough to drive him insane. Eddie blushes, but doesn’t let it hold him back from pushing Steve more.

“You gonna take your clothes off or are the lube and condoms just for decoration?”

Any hand is better than his own, but Steve’s hand might be the death of him. He tightens his grip around him, leaning in to bite Eddie’s collarbone.

He’s sensitive there and somehow Steve knows it, and Eddie might die tonight, but he can’t let Steve know he’s making him feel this fucking good. He wants Steve to take what he wants, but he doesn’t wanna give it easily.

“You like this with everyone or am I special?” Steve asks before he licks a stripe up Eddie’s neck.

It’s gross. It’s hot as fuck. Eddie’s lightheaded.

“Just you, sugar. Or should I call you Captain here, too?”

Steve pulls back like he’s been burned.

“I’m not your captain right now.” He’s glaring at Eddie, making him wish he could shrink into the mattress, down through the floor. “I’m Steve. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eddie’s nodding along, but he feels like he’s teetering into uncharted territory, some kind of rough terrain that most people don’t get past the fence to explore.

Steve starts taking and Eddie lets him.

First, it’s rough hands pushing him around until he’s in the position Steve wants him: face down, arms under the pillows, legs spread so Steve can see him.

Then, it’s teasing touches, laughing when Eddie gasps and moans, nipping at his skin after a soft brush of his fingers.

It’s hot and cold, it’s hard and soft, it’s push and pull.

It’s the first time Eddie feels like he understands who Steve is.

The lube is cold as Steve spreads it around his entrance, more teasing, more taking. Eddie doesn’t mind. He’s always loved the build-up as much as the finale.

Steve’s quiet, focused, as he works his fingers into him. He’s meticulous about it, looking for the best reactions.

When Eddie whines into the pillow, spreading his legs further apart to make more room for whatever Steve wants from him, he realizes that this will change everything. He should’ve realized it sooner. He may regret it tomorrow. He may not.

“You ready?” Steve asks.

Eddie feels empty. Steve’s fingers aren’t there anymore, aren’t stretching him and prodding every sensitive part of him. He whimpers pitifully at the loss.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Steve’s cock is pushing against his entrance, and Eddie thinks he was severely mistaken about Steve before.

Because why is Steve being gentle? Why is his hand rubbing Eddie’s spine as he pushes into him slowly? Why are his lips against Eddie’s shoulder, not kissing so much as resting there, his hot breath a comfort that he’s right there paying attention to everything Eddie’s doing?

Why is this the best Eddie’s ever been fucked and why does it feel less like getting fucked and more like making love with every passing moment?

Steve’s big, which Eddie knew already. There’s just a difference between seeing it and feeling it. He fills him up, makes him wonder if he’ll be sore tomorrow.

Kind of hopes he will be.

“Take it,” Eddie mumbles against the pillow.

Steve grabs his hair, strong grip, but gently pulling. “What?”

“Take me.”

Eddie’s not sure where those words come from, but he feels the way Steve responds. His cock twitches inside him, his hands grip his waist harder, and Steve moans against his shoulder.

His own cock is trapped against the sheets, but it’s fine. He’s in no rush. Steve will take what he wants and Eddie will wait. He’ll wait all night if he has to.

He feels good like this, at Steve’s mercy.

He didn’t think he’d be able to relax under him. He thought the fight he always has to assert his own dominance with Steve would carry over here, too.

But it’s easy to let Steve have this.

He knows that Steve needs this just as much as Eddie needs to be used.

“You’re quiet. Everything okay?” Steve whispers against his skin. A check-in to make sure Eddie doesn’t need to stop.

“I’m good. Feels good. Keep going.”

The softness never goes away, but Steve’s moving faster, breathing heavier, putting more weight on Eddie’s back. It’s almost too much, the pressure inside him, surrounding him. The scent of Steve, the scent of both of them mingling together and staining his bedsheets.

He’ll have to wash them tomorrow. He won’t.

“God,” Eddie says as he fists the pillow under his head. “Right there.”

Steve’s nailing his prostate, almost more than he can handle. It feels like when they reach their groove on the ice, like despite their disagreements and different styles of play, they’ve meshed together for this moment to make something happen.

“Yeah? You like letting me have you like this?” Steve asks.

It feels out of place here, but Eddie’s allowing it all. If this is what Steve needs, if this will help, then he’ll let Steve have everything.

“Mhm. C’mon, want you to come,” Eddie begs.

He doesn’t want this to be over, though. He finds it shocking how much he wants Steve to keep fucking into him for hours, finding new positions and ways to make Eddie question his existence. He wishes Steve wasn’t wearing a condom, wishes he could fill him up with his cum, plug him up so he stays filled until morning.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking these things. He’s never wanted that with anyone, let alone Steve.

Steve’s hand covers the back of his neck, applies just enough pressure that Eddie knows it would be hard to move.

He’s coming before he even realizes the tug in his belly is there, moaning into the pillow as Steve’s hips meet his ass with every thrust. It’s too much, but Eddie’s giving himself.

That’s all this is.

It’s everything now, but tomorrow it’ll be nothing.

And the day after that, when they have team meetings to review tape for their first round matchup, it’ll be even less than nothing. It’ll be like nothing ever happened and Eddie never let Steve fuck him into his mattress. It’ll be back to tolerating each other for their job, and Eddie poking at him until Steve is riled up and the coach is yelling at both of them to get their shit together.

And then when they inevitably lose in the first round, they’ll go all summer without speaking and Eddie may get traded to a team that will put up with his antics.

Eddie sniffles.

“Eddie? Shit.” Steve pulls out, which is wrong and terrible and not at all what he wants. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was it too much?”

“No,” Eddie’s voice is shaking and he feels stupid. How did this happen? How did he get to this point? Over Steve Harrington? “Sorry, I’m okay.”

“You’re clearly not okay.” Steve turns him over so he’s on his back and that makes everything so much worse.

His release is sticky across his stomach and the head of his cock, and he’s flush from his cheeks to his toes. Tears have fallen, leaving tracks down his face.

He doesn’t paint a pretty picture.

“What’s this about?”

“I didn’t expect this,” Eddie admits.

It can’t hurt. Honesty is only a small vulnerability compared to letting a man fuck you.

“Expect what?”

“This. You to be soft and caring. You don’t even fucking like me. I thought you’d be quick, come on my back, and then find a reason to leave,” Eddie says, covering his face with his hands. It sounds even dumber out loud. Jesus.

“The thought did occur to me,” Steve says.

Eddie peeks through his fingers to see Steve smiling with an eyebrow raised.

“What the fuck is happening.”

Steve snorts. “You threw me your stick during the play so I could score the goal that sealed us a shot at the Cup. I’ve been hard for, like, six hours now, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude while you’re staring at my dick!” Eddie argues.

“You annoy the shit out of me,” Steve rolls his eyes. “More than anyone else I’ve ever played with.”

“Okay. My dick’s already soft, you don’t have to talk me down, Steve,” Eddie groans, covering his face again.

Steve pulls his hands away, laces their fingers together, squeezes. Eddie’s stomach flutters.

“But you’re good. And you know you’re good. That’s why you’re as frustrated as I am about how this season’s been. It has fuck all to do with me being captain, and everything to do with nothing going right for us.”

Steve’s right. He’s always right, even though Eddie rarely acknowledges it.

“Does this kind of talk get you off or should I do something for you?” Eddie tries to joke, to push.

But Steve doesn’t push back this time.

He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in, kisses him soft, so gentle it feels like a whisper of something Eddie’s absolutely terrified to name.

“Let me take a little more,” Steve says against his lips.

He lifts Eddie’s legs and slides back into him, and Eddie moans at the overstimulation. He’s definitely gonna be sore when he wakes up, but he doesn’t mind so much right now.

“That’s it,” Steve groans as he moves in and out, holding Eddie’s legs apart so he can make sure he gets as deep as possible. “Let me have it.”

Eddie’s never come twice like this, without his cock even being touched properly. But here he is, barely even hard again, and cum is leaking onto his stomach as he whimpers his way through another orgasm.

“Fuck, so good.” Steve’s hips stutter as he tenses his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “That’s it, baby. Let me fill you up.”

It’s not real, but for a second Eddie can picture it. He pretends he can feel it inside him, and his cock twitches, but otherwise doesn’t act like it can do anything else tonight.

Steve lets his legs drop as he pulls out, and Eddie winces at the feeling of emptiness it brings.

Eddie closes his eyes, tries to figure out how he’s gonna ask Steve to stay.

“Is it okay if I stick around?” Steve asks before he can think of something.

“Yeah, of course. Shower’s all yours if you want it,” Eddie offers, sounding breathless still. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels like the world around him is spinning.

“You wanna join?” Steve asks him, seriously.

“Showering together doesn’t seem like a teammate thing to do,” Eddie replies.

“Neither is watching a teammate come twice.”

“Point made.” Eddie groans as he turns on his side, reaching a hand out until he makes contact with skin. He thinks it’s Steve's thigh, but he can’t be sure with his eyes closed. “Go on without me. I can’t feel my legs or my��anything.”

Steve doesn’t get up, and he doesn’t say anything. After at least a minute of silence, Eddie blinks his eyes open to see Steve staring at him.

“Are you gonna be fucking creepy all night? I rescind my permission to stay if you are.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s just. I’ve seen you mostly naked so many times, but I never noticed this scar.”

Steve gently brushes a finger across the scar on Eddie’s abdomen. It’s barely an inch in length, and you can’t even see it unless the light hits it just right.

Eddie looks down at it, at the way Steve’s fingertips graze the outer edges. He doesn’t think about it much anymore, but he remembers when it happened.

“Junior hockey. Kid’s skate got me just as I was falling. My chestie rose up too high and didn’t protect the spot,” Eddie shrugs. It could’ve been a lot worse. He was back on the ice within three days. “Accidents happen.”

Eddie watches Steve’s face morph from curious to confused and then shocked.

“That was you?” Steve asks.

“What do you mean?” Eddie leans up on an elbow, looks back at Steve as if he’s lost his mind.

“I…holy shit. They never told me the player’s name. Just said he was getting stitches in the locker room and would be fine,” Steve is rambling, gesturing wildly and shaking his head. “They wouldn’t let me check on you. I tried as soon as the game was over.”

“I’m still confused.”

“It was my skate. I tripped over a player’s stick as you were falling. I didn’t even realize it actually hit you until I saw the blood on the ice.” Steve scoots down so he’s eye level with the scar and then he does something that changes Eddie’s DNA.

He presses his mouth to the scar, his lips parting just enough for his hot breath to cause goosebumps to break out across Eddie’s skin.

“Why did you give me your stick?” Steve whispers.

Eddie swallows. He feels heavy, weighed down by whatever this is.

“You had a chance. You just needed a stick,” he whispers back.

“Eddie. You would rather lose than help me any other time.” Steve tilts his head to look up at Eddie. “Why did you pass me your stick?”

“I-” Eddie breathes in. “I wanted to do something right. I wanted you to look at me and not see someone failing for once. I wanted to be good enough to wear the A.”

Steve’s forehead drops to his hip, and it takes a moment for Eddie to realize he’s laughing.

“What’s funny about that?” Eddie’s ready to pull away, kind of wants to make Steve leave now that he’s feeling like he’s being made fun of.

“I just cannot believe that you would think you aren’t good enough.” Steve looks back up at him, grinning, eyes shining with amusement. “Who do you think chose you for the A?”

Eddie thinks about it. He always assumed that the coaches just picked the guy with the most NHL experience out of the few options they had. He never thought he’d be A or C material professionally, so he accepted the offer, grateful to be given the chance.

He felt like an idiot for wasting the opportunity this season.

He didn’t produce the way he knows he can, and he let his stupid jealousy of Steve get in the way of everything. It’s not like he wanted the responsibility of being captain. He knows now he probably isn’t cut out for any type of leadership role with the team.

“I thought the coaches?” Eddie frames it as a question because now he isn’t sure.

“They wanted to name Hagan. I suggested you instead.”

Eddie’s breath catches. “You suggested me? Why? You fucking hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Steve raises a brow and gestures at their current state. “I don’t sleep with people I hate.”

“I thought it was spur of the moment! Like you were so mad at me that the only thing you could do to get it out of your system was fuck me!”

Eddie’s head is spinning.

“I mean, it was spur of the moment. I never had any intentions of acting on anything I felt for you.”

Eddie’s head is going to explode.

“Harrington. You’re really making my head hurt. Like, I have never felt this confused after getting fucked.”

Steve laughs, which doesn’t help anything. It almost makes it worse.

He crawls back up so he’s only inches from kissing Eddie.

“I chose you. They said I had to pick someone who would compliment me on and off the ice and you were the first and only choice I could make. You’re an incredible player and the only defenseman I trust on this fucking roster,” Steve leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “If I’m annoyed with you, it’s because I’m annoyed at myself. I’m making your job harder by losing the room. I don’t even know how it happened.”

“You haven’t lost the room,” Eddie interrupts, placing his hand on Steve’s hip. “They love you. You’re the hero.”

“I don’t wanna be the only guy who comes through, though. I want everyone to succeed.”

“They will. It’s just not our year. It happens. We started off bad and we never got back on track.”

Steve huffs out a breath. “It’s my job to make it work.”

“It’s everyone’s job to make it work. You can’t do it by yourself. They don’t hand Stanley Cups to a player, they hand them to a team.”

Steve smirks. “They do hand them to a player first, though.”

Eddie smacks him. “Don’t argue with me. I’ve had my brains fucked out of my head.”

They stare at each other, both of them smiling fondly.

It’s such a stark difference to everything they’ve been this whole season. Eddie doesn’t know how to handle the electricity between them. He thought it would fade once they were done, once Steve cleaned up and they got dressed. In the morning, he’d leave, and they’d go back to being a mediocre team and he’d probably end up traded or losing the A.

But now, he’s looking at Steve with something he’s pretty sure is affection, maybe even love. It’s ridiculous, which is why he isn’t gonna say anything.

“So, are we good?” Steve asks.

It’s such a jock thing to say. It throws Eddie off yet again.

“Um. Yeah.” He pulls away slightly, considers turning around and getting under the blankets. “We’re good. Hit the showers or whatever.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

Eddie has got to figure out how to get a read on this guy. Seriously, the whiplash he’s getting from Steve’s words and actions might break his neck.

“You want to?”

“I don’t kiss people I don’t want to kiss.”

“Alright, then.”

It’s so soft, it practically melts what little brain Eddie has left. He’s not sure he’s ever been kissed like this, like he’s precious and like this moment needs to be cherished.

“Are you still gonna be a bitch?” Eddie ruins it.

Or, he thinks he does. But Steve is just smiling at him, amused, like he wants nothing more than Eddie’s attitude.

“Depends on if you’re gonna keep giving me problems.”

“Oh, so this is like a thing for you.”

“What?”

“You like disciplining me. Oh, this will be so fun.”

Steve shakes his head and falls against the pillows. Eddie turns his own head to smile at him.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says after a minute of just watching Steve exist in his bed.

“You answered yourself.”

“You’re irritating.”

“So are you.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“Everything is a competition,” Steve turns his head to look at Eddie, smirking. “And I’m winning.”

“We’ll see about that.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #hockey au #modern au #enemies to lovers #love confessions #feelings realization

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