#( maybe it’s just me but I’m worried that there’s some lack of interest and her muse is going to die out ;; ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

f1byjessie · 3 months

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part three.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” You look down at the post. The photos, carefully taken a few nights ago while getting ready for a dinner gala you’d been brought along to as Sophia’s plus one, are pretty. She and you had scrolled and sorted and scrolled and sorted some more trying to pick the perfect ones, and then you’d written and rewritten the caption more times than you could count before finally settling on something vague but faintly implicit.

You study it for a moment longer, then look back up to your friend.

She smirks. “Trust me. It'll work. I got an ex-boyfriend to come crawling back begging for another chance by making him think I was already moving on.”

“It just seems… mean,” you murmur, frowning. You want Oscar to like you— you want it a lot— but you're not sure if this is the way you want to go about it. “Isn’t this just manipulating him?”

Sophia sighs and falls back onto the bed beside you. She gives you a look, gestures down to your phone, and then curls around your shoulder so she can peer down at the screen. “It’s not a soft launch. There’s no guy. The caption doesn’t mention anyone. If he gets the impression that you’re with someone else, then that’s on him.”

You trust her, of course, but this is Oscar. You’ve known him for years. He’s your brother’s best friend, and for the longest time, he was the closest thing you had to a best friend too. As twins, anything Logan did you tended to do with him— soccer, swimming, biking. You even had shared birthday parties growing up. Karting was the first real thing he’d done on his own, but even then you’d always been close by, and that meant you’d always been close by to Oscar too.

Like she can sense your continued hesitation, Sophia speaks up again. “If you post that, and he doesn’t react, then that’s that. You don’t have to do it again.”

“I just— I don’t know.” You worry your lip between your teeth. “I just don’t think it’s the type of thing that he’d go for. He’s, you know, polite like that, I guess? If he thought I was taken, or moving on, or something, then he’d respect that and wouldn’t bother me.”

The silence hangs in the room. She’s still leaning against you, one hand rubbing your shoulder comfortingly and the other hugging you into her. When you stand, she lets you go easily, watching as you begin to pace the length of your bedroom, phone clenched tightly in your hands.

When you finally come to a halt in the corner farthest from the bed, you turn and meet her gaze shyly, “What if he stops ‘maybe’ having feelings for me because he thinks I'm taken? Or, what if he thinks I’m not interested and so he doesn’t ever bring it up?”

“Then you take one for the team and you tell him,” she shrugs. “Woman up and admit that the entire time you were out in that fancy dress of yours with those roses, you’d wished it was him who had gotten them for you and you’d wanted it to be him you were getting dressed up for.”

You look back down to your phone.

You’ve never done this before— boys, at least. The chase. Europe hadn’t been a very easy place to live— not with a schedule that made keeping friends virtually impossible, let alone a boyfriend. When you moved back to the United States, you were focused more on your career, prioritizing yourself over anything else.

You’d been single for so long that you hadn’t been in any hurry to change things, but now the lack of experience is making you nervous. Apart from movies and books and the borderline horror stories Sophia has told you about her own disastrous love life, you don’t know the first thing about dating.

“Y/N, is this about Oscar or something else?”

You look up, still biting at your lip. “What if we break up and I’ve ruined a friendship?”

Sophia raises an eyebrow, “Is he the kind of guy that would throw away a friendship because things didn’t work out?”

“I don’t know! That’s the problem! I wanna say no, that he’d be totally fine and we would be able to pretend like nothing happened and go back to how we were before it all, but I can’t,” you cross the room and lower yourself onto the bed again. “Context matters too. What if it’s a really messy breakup and we can never look at each other the same? What if he does something so unforgivable that it ruins his friendship with my brother? Logan worked hard to make friends and this first season was rough for him. He’s the only American driver on the grid, and they weren’t exactly welcoming. But Oscar was there for him and I would never forgive myself if I did something to ruin that.”

“What could Oscar do that would be so unforgivable it would ruin a friendship?”

You fall back onto the mattress. “I don’t know that either! Realistically he wouldn’t do anything because that’s just who he is— he’s like the nicest most genuinely sweet guy I’ve ever met. But I’m not a fortune teller! I can’t look into the future and know that he won’t get tired of me and go find some other girl, or, I don’t know.”

You can feel tears burning at the back of your eyes and wipe at them harshly.

Sophia notices and lays down beside you, pulling you into her side again. She runs her fingers through your hair and lets you compose yourself a bit more before she speaks up again. When she does, it’s— “You’re so afraid of the worst-case scenario that you aren’t even letting yourself take the chance. Sometimes you just gotta leap before you look and believe that you’ll land on solid ground.”

“I hate when you get philosophical on me,” you murmur, a soft laugh slipping past your lips.

She sits back up and rolls her eyes, but there’s a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Puh-lease. As if you’d ever get anything done without my wizened words of advice.”

You sniffle and wipe the last remnants of tears from your eyes, then sit up with her and look back down at your phone. The unfinished post still stares back up at you.

“What if I just—” you delete the caption for the umpteenth time and let your fingers dance across the screen, “—say this instead?”

Sophia leans over your shoulder, reads the new caption, pauses, and purses her lips. She reads it again, hums, and then breaks out into a grin. An incredulous laugh slips out and she turns to you with shining eyes. “You’re a damn genius! I knew you were worried over nothing. You just gotta stop getting into your head so much.”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 12,827 others

yourusername honey, i’m still free. take a chance on me.

view all 7,631 comments

user WHAT???

user IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH???

↳ user she’s literally saying she’s still free?? why would she say that if this is a soft launch?? 😭😭

logansargeant should’ve taken me with you 😒

↳ yourusername logie we both know you hate black tie events

user girl idk how you can do it i’d be spilling out of that dress with one wrong turn

user THE ROSES?? THE BABY’S BREATH?? I’M SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

landonorris slay girl queen boss

↳ yourusername lando… what…

↳ landonorris i’m in my supportive era 😌💅 you should try it sometime

user i NEED to know where that dress is from omg

user oh to be a young rich and beautiful socialite

user not to be delulu but there’s a surprising lack of op81 in these comments 👀

INSTAGRAM.

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 429,868 others

oscarpiastri it’s summer somewhere right?

view all 1,021 comments

landonorris hm this caption seems familiar 🤨 i wonder what it could be referencing 🤔

user GOOD LUCK IN 2024 OSCAR 🧡🧡🧡

user wishing this were me rn

user i’m too delulu for this rn 😭

↳ user i’m waiting for y/n to show up in these comments

↳ user did they have a fight or smth??? they haven’t commented on each other’s last few posts

user gosh that’s the dream rn

When you answer the unknown number, on your way back to your room with a tub of ice cream and a plan to eat away your disappointment at the failure of Sophia’s plan, the last thing you expect is to hear Lando Norris of all people on the other end. There’s no greeting, no introduction, just an immediate— “Yeah, so, I’m gonna need you to fill me in on the sitch.”

For a brief moment, all you can do is stand there in the hallway with your phone pressed to your ear, wondering if this is real. You’ve had maybe a few brief conversations with Lando throughout your various visits to the paddock across the season, and though he was very nice and polite, and all of your interactions were friendly, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself friends. Certainly not “swap numbers and call one another” type of friends, either. Your most recent socializing has been strictly confined to the comment sections of Instagram posts.

“Hello? Y/N?”

You clear your throat, “Sorry. What?”

“The sitch? Situation? That’s an American slang word, I thought you knew that.” He says it so matter-of-factly. As if that’s the only thing you could be even remotely confused about in this whole interaction.

“No,” you answer, shaking your head as if it’ll somehow straighten out the spinning of your mind. “I know what the word means, Lando. I’m just wondering why you of all people are calling me right now? How’d you even get my number?”

You can hear music and voices on the other end of the line, muffled and distant, and then a door opens and closes and the extra noise is gone. Lando takes a deep breath and sighs, “If you must know, I got it from Alex, who got it from Lily, who got it from you. So, you know, transitive property means technically I got it from you, too.”

“I’m gonna choose to ignore how wrong all of that is,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continue down the hall and eventually slip into your room, shutting the door quietly behind you.

You do recall giving your number to Lily, and the two of you have shared a few messages since the end of the season— mostly typical check-ins and catching up with the happenings of your individual lives. Occasionally she sends you recipes she thinks you’d like, and you do the same. You knew she’d given it to Alex because she’d asked you first if that was okay, and all Alex had sent was a brief well-wishes when Williams had confirmed Logan’s re-signing, accompanied by a short message that Lily was looking forward to seeing you in the paddock again.

Ignoring all of that, however, you focus on the matter at hand. “Why are you calling? Isn’t it crazy late in Monaco right now?”

He hums. “I’m the slightest bit tipsy, but I cannot take it anymore. If I see one more caption with underlying subtext like this is a forbidden romance in a period drama I am going to, quite frankly, lose my mind. I need you to explain to me what in the fuck is going on between you and Oscar.”

You pause, and then you groan. “Oh my God.”

“Yes, ‘oh my God’ indeed. Now please explain.”

You heave a sigh, because you know he isn’t going to drop this, but you also know that if anyone could help you more than Sophia, it’s probably Lando. He’s Oscar’s teammate, and at the very least, if you can’t talk to Logan, you can talk to the only other person who probably knows him just as well.

“It’s a long story,” you mumble, curling up in your bed.

He makes a sound, like a scoff. “Okay? I have plenty of time.”

So you start from the beginning. Between spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream, you detail how it all started because of a message of condolence, how that had led to a rendezvous for drinks, and how that had led even further to him kissing you in the car as he’d dropped you off at your hotel.

He’s silent up until you mention that Oscar hadn’t acknowledged the kiss at all afterward, and then he makes an affronted noise and mutters something under his breath about stupid guys and heads in asses.

You admit that part of it was your own fault, that you hadn’t attempted to communicate either because you’d been afraid of the reaction and potentially the rejection, but that you’d been kicking yourself ever since for missing out on being able to talk face to face about things when you’d had the chance.

It all culminates in you explaining your current situation, and you tell him about your talk with Sophia and then your friend’s self-proclaimed mastermind plan, which had failed spectacularly when Oscar hadn’t even seen the post.

When you’re finished, there’s a moment of silence before he bursts into laughter.

You flush red in embarrassment and hug the tub of ice cream closer to your chest, feeling miserable and ashamed, but also like you deserve it all anyway. The tub isn’t freezing cold anymore, but the chill still seeps in through your shirt faintly, and it’s comforting against the heated blush.

“Sorry,” he says when his cackling has died down to chuckles. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I actually do want to help. I genuinely can’t take one more post with a caption that’s all thinly veiled pining.”

You pause, fiddle with your spoon for a moment, and then hesitantly ask— “Do you know if he likes me?”

Lando goes quiet, and then he hums and admits that he doesn’t. “But,” he adds quickly, “just because I don’t have total confirmation doesn’t mean it isn’t basically obvious. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I know Oscar.”

You sigh, “But how are you going to help? You can’t just ask.”

“I don’t need to,” he answers, like you’re crazy for thinking he’d do something like that. “I’ve got a plan.”

Great. You run a hand down your face and try to stay optimistic. Another plan.

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry

━━ a/n: a bit more writing heavy this part, and a bit longer because of it, but i'm proud of how it turned out! we're finally getting somewhere, and now we've got lando joining the team. genuinely had so much fun writing him, so i'm excited to feature him in future parts!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

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adventuringblind · 19 days

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Teach Me Part One

Max Verstappen x Reader Part Two

Genre: hurt/comfort (2.7k words)

Summary: Max helps our protagonist through a journey of sexual discovery. You know - after she's been assaulted... Don't worry though, he's got her (and her virginity).

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, BDSM in the wrong way, then it gets better, lots of discussions, Virgin reader, softdom Max, toxic ex, dom/sub, alluded to smut

Notes: I hope this is what le requester was looking for! I tried my best to get everything and I think I did! Really hope you like it and that it brings you comfort!

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me because I'm going insane over here...

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

Trust is something most people underestimate the power of. Trust is sitting on a chair and thinking it will hold you. Trust getting in your car and knowing it will get you to work and back.

Trusting people is harder than trusting inanimate objects. It’s easy to come back from a chair breaking or a car randomly stopping. Humans take the trust of others and stomp on it. They treat it like a toy; something to be thrown away when they are done with it.

She did trust once. She tried to give someone her love. It didn’t work out for her, and made her struggle to trust anyone after that.

Max swings her legs back and forth on the counter. GP had come in not five minutes ago and told him to get down. But Max is like a cat, and refused to get off.

She sits in a chair in the office area, preparing for debrief. Her fingers crossed it goes longer because that means right to sleep with her. Her boyfriend won’t have any reason to keep her up. Not when she has a race tomorrow.

“Any plans for after the race?”

Logically, there is no way Max doesn’t know her plans. They’ve grown up together; her and Max against the world.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. Probably just hanging out with my boyfriend.”

“Boring, you should come out with the team!” The warmth on his features makes her want to melt. She’d much rather be with Max. Her relationship hasn’t been going well for some time now and she’s been trying to find something to repair it. Because she can’t bring herself to leave. He’s guilted her into staying; the fear of being alone outweighs wanting to leave him.

“If I could find something to do with him, then maybe it would be less boring.”

Max Waves her off after the race with a grimace. She knows he hates the guy, but he also doesn’t even know the full extent as to why she hates him. Why she can’t stand being around him for longer then she has to.

She’s alone in the room for a minute. Her boyfriend is still in the shower for the time being, meaning - she has time to indulge herself.

It’s a stupid interest, really. Max had brought it up in passing; something he’d tried with partners. The one problem with being Max’s friend? His astute lack of knowing when enough information has been given. Still, the details of his experimentation through the years left her wanting to know more.

Her recent search history has been her own exploration into the world of BDSM. It’s a stupid thing to look into considering the male she’s with isn’t the nicest about sex. No, he’s tried to coerce her a few times now. He comes to races with the intention of trying to get in her pants. It’s just not something she wants yet and she’ll continue to let him fuck her throat if it means holding him off from taking that piece of her until she’s ready.

She’s caught up in her own thoughts, mindlessly scrolling something mildly more explicit. “Watcha looking at?” The obnoxiously placed male on the bed tries to crane her head to look at her phone.

In her panic to hide the screen, she fumbles. His hands snatch it away from her and begin scrolling where she had left off. “It’s nothing-”

“Actually, this is something. Is this all it takes to get you to let me in finally? Would you like to be owned?”

She would like to tell him no. She wants to explain what she wants is to feel safe with someone; enough to let go for once. “Just something I was curious about, is all.”

“Whatever - don’t expect me to stick around much longer then. Maybe this will help us get back to where we were.”

She ends up with a bruised throat the next morning. Her peace offering to him since he was adamant about getting something from her.

What she was not expecting the next morning to be woken up stuck to the headboard. Her wrists hurt more than her throat and the fear clouding her brain makes it hard to tell what’s really happening. She tugs at it, only to be stopped by a familiar set of hands. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I figured I’d indulge you.” He sounds nonchalant about all this. She’s not sure if that makes it better or worse. “Just relax, yeah? I’ll take care of you.”

It’s the way he’s eating her with his eyes. The sinister tone in his voice. She doesn’t want to be here. The more she tries to relax, the more she ends up panicking. His touch on her skin hurts more than she wants to admit.

“Would you stop squirming?”

“No!” She pulls harder at the stupid restraints around her wrists. She pulls until her hands start to slide out, bloody and burned, but it’s enough.

The second she’s free, she’s flipping them. They wrestle as she attempts to flee, eventually able to slip her way around him and out the door.

She’s barefoot, disheveled, her long shirt barely covering her ass. Not bare, thankfully, but pretty close to it. The adrenaline kicks in and she sprints to Max’s room three floors up and prays there is nobody around. Grateful for the early hour in the morning that this has occurred.

Her knuckles hit the door with a bruising force. “Max! Max please open up! Max-” The door opens and she tumbles inside. Nearly hitting the floor, but Max’s quick reflexes are there to steady her.

She clings to him, sobbing, the fear of what might have happened to her hitting like a punch to the gut.

Max ends up getting her stuff for her. She can’t stomach the thought of ever seeing that man again. Let alone attempting anything intimate.

Max lets her stay in his guest room for the time being. He doesn’t push for her to talk about it. Not yet at least, but she knows he’ll get impatient just like the rest of them. He’ll kick her out when she doesn’t give him what he wants.

Max finds her out on his balcony four months into their new living situation. It didn’t help that winter break happened three weeks after the whole ordeal. It’s nice solely for the reason they drive for the same team. Otherwise, she’d hate being left here to wallow in her own self pity.

Max sits himself on the side across from her. “Wanna talk about what’s going on in your head? I miss seeing you smile.” She can tell he’s nervous, his lip biting from childhood never went away.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

He’s worried; can clearly hear it in his voice. He wants to know that she isn’t going to do anything crazy. “What happened, I guess.”

“I’m here. If you ever want to talk about it - I’m here.”

Maybe it’s the thought of Max having defended her for years now, or the safety she has always found with him. “It’s really stupid.” She drops her head into her knees.

“Can’t be if it’s making you upset.”

“He saw something I wa looking at on my phone the night before I forced myself into your room-”

Max’s eyes go wide. “Alright, the only stupid thing about that is you thinking you forced yourself on me. You can come to me whenever and I’ll open the door.” He gestures for her to continue after his interruption. “What was on your phone?”

This is the part where she runs if things go south. “Itwaslikesexstuff…”

“Sex stuff?” Well, her original plan has failed. How he could have ever understood that is beyond her.

“The - the kind that - you talked about?”

His cheeks turn a bright shade of crimson red. “Curiosity, I presume?”

“If you count the last two years as a curiosity phase, then sure.”

“I’m - I’m so sorry.”

She blinks at him. The words are barely sinking in as she watches him rub his palm against his neck and jaw. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I sent you - unknowingly, sure - down a rabbit hole that can be dangerous if you don’t know where to look.” His sad demeanor makes her want to hug him. “Was it something related to BDSM stuff? I swear if he hurt you I know where he lives still-”

“Max please-” The laugh raging through her is pathetic. “-As much as I’d love to see him get his ass handed to him, I think I’ll be okay in time. He didn’t rape me. Close to it, but I managed to get away.”

“Oh fuck! Your wrists were busted! I should’ve known.”

“Yeah well, I guess it gives someone else the opportunity to take my virginity-” Well, cats out of the bag now. She had meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood. Now Max is gaping at her and she’s not sure how to feel about it.

He slides over to her; their knees now knocking together. “Someone else, huh? Have anyone in mind?”

“Had someone in mind for ages, but he wouldn’t feel the same.” Because he’s seen the worst of her. There is no way Max could ever love someone like her. Someone who struggles with intimacy-

“Try me. Because I think anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“What about you?”

“Especially me.”

It’s a month after that where Max brings up the subject again. They’ve kissed and cuddled, but nothing aside from that. She has tried to suck him off. Her mindset being it would appease him for the time being but Max had refused. ‘Not until you are doing it because you want to, not because you think it’s your job.’

She wanted to lay there and cry. Which she might have, but fell asleep at some point. The subject hadn’t been brought up again until now. At the breakfast table of all places.

“So, out of curiosity, are you still curious?”

She drops her fork out of surprise. “I - I mean… yes? But I’m not sure I want to go through that again-”

“Nope, never. What he did was wrong, plain and simple.”

“But isn’t that what it is?”

“It is about trust and safety. I’m going to assume you didn’t have a safeword?”

No, because they didn’t even talk about it. She just woke up tied to the bed and was told to stay still. She settles for shaking her head no. Overwhelmed by the severe lack of anything that Max is talking about.

“If you want, we can take things at your pace, yes? I’ll show you what the bastard should have done.”

And if that didn’t pique her interest, she doesn’t know what would. “Yeah I - I think I’d like that.”

Max takes her out to dinner a week later. Her favorite, as usual, since it’s also his favorite (another perk of growing up together). He’s terribly sweet to her the entire night. Which isn’t that big of a change from normal - but Max is sassy and won’t hesitate to throw a sarcastic insult her way.

“Are you alright if we talk about some things tonight?” He asks on the car ride home. “I would like to get a feel for what you might want to try in the future so I can research a bit.”

“Yeah - yeah sure.”

Max collects her into his arms on the sofa. The stubble on his chin prickles her skin while he leaves playful kisses. The notebook he has resting on his (and hers by proxy) knee is flipped open to a blank page.

“Okay, first up is safe words.”

“To be fair, I know what they are and why they are important. He just didn’t talk to me about anything first…”

Max hums. “And we’re still gonna talk about them!” He giggles when she groans. “Hey! This is the safety stuff I was talking about. Do you know the traffic light system?”

“Green is for good and red is for stop…”

“And yellow is for?”

“Pointless, is what I’ve read.” She shrugs.

Again, Max gapes at her. “On the contrary, yellow could just mean something doesn’t feel right or you need a minute to breathe. Not a full stop, but a slow down.”

That makes more sense now. Curse the internet! She probably should’ve made sure her information sources were credible to begin with. “Yellow means wait a second.”

“Secondly, it’s usually good to have multiple safewords. Red is one and the other I use is Mercedes.”

She can’t contain her laughs. Nearly falling out of Max’s lap as she clutches her chest. “Mercedes?!”

“Think about it! If Mercedes becomes a normal bedroom topic then we may need to rethink some things.”

“Fair point, but it’s still a bit funny!”

“Next thing on the list is how I personally like to conduct a scene.” The smirk plastered on his face makes her want to curl up in a ball and hide away.

“Is it not the normal way?”

“To be fair - there is not a normal way. It’s just how I’ve come to enjoy setting things up prior. Like discussion beforehand is always a must.”

“Like what we’re doing now?”

“Exactly!”

They end up talking for hours on end. Into the morning until they are both passed out on the couch. Needless to say they don’t get any further than that.

More daycare spent simply talking about it. Max takes care to make sure every detail is talked about. It’s the small things that she hadn’t even thought to consider earlier on.

It becomes safer just by talking about it. Like Max has somehow made it less scary. Which could also just be because he keeps talking about safety.

She explores in the way she is comfortable with. Small touches here and there, a bit of oral when she can manage. Max checks in with her almost too often. Specifically when she’d like him to keep his tongue where it’s at. He laughs at her frustrated huffs. They do the non-sexual side of things more often. Sometimes he takes things into his own hands, getting her on her knees. Nothing more than what she’s willing to do.

It’s when she wins a race, high on adrenaline and soaked to the bones in champagne, that she feels the desire to go further.

She attempts to jump Max’s bones when they are finally back in their hotel. “You don’t want to go celebrate?”

“Can’t I celebrate with just you?”

“You certainly can, but I plan on taking my time if we’re doing this tonight.” The post race gravel in his voice has her swooning.

“Please Max? I want you.”

“I’m going to ask you if you’re sure a million times regardless.”

He pulls her in for a gentle kiss. It turns heated and eager quicker than anytime before. Her need to get her desperation across has Max pinning her to the wall. She squeaks in surprise, having not seen it coming.

“Someone is eager tonight.”

“Are you going to make me beg for it?”

“Not tonight, another time though.”

He taps the bottom of her thighs. He lifts her like she’s nothing and sets her on the bed gently. “Shall we review?”

“Green for go, Yellow for slow, Red or Mercedes for stop.”

God is he beaming at her. His knuckles caress her jaw. “Good girl.”

Gone, she’s so gone for this man it’s not funny anymore. Not when he talks to her like that.

Max takes care of her, runs his hands across her body and makes her shiver. He strips each article of clothing like she’s the most delicate thing he’s ever touched.

“Color?” He says while leaning over her with no clothes between them.

“Green.”

The next morning is fuzzy. She’s not sure if it’s because she and Max were up until the early hours of the morning, or because she’s sore in places she didn’t know could be. It’s unreal how good she feels; how loved and wanted.

She wants to stay here, frozen in this moment, watching the sun soak into Max’s skin. He’s breathtaking; always has been.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Max cracks a smile and stretches his arms out around her.

“You’re a dork.”

“Ah, but you trust me enough to be your dork. Specifically yours; all this dorkiness is for you.”

She rolls on top of him. “Hey Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks - you know - for teaching me and making it special.”

“You deserve is schat. I’m glad you trust me. That's a big honor and I’m grateful for it.”

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 11 months

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Kumquats & Oranges - Charles Leclerc

Neighbour fluffiness

Summary: Charles buys as many plants as he can carry to try and get his neighbour’s attention even when he’s not in Monaco.

Charles never has any problem with finding a woman if he wants one. But for some reason it was his hyper-independent neighbour who lived one floor down from him that really caught his interest.

He’d lived in the apartment a few months before he discovered who spent their nights listening to sad music. It was never too loud, only when his own apartment was completely silent did he even ever hear it. But it caught his attention. Then he finally came across her while she was entering the apartment with a small orange tree in a plant pot that was really far too heavy for her to carry with ease.

“I can help you.” Charles states, raised with the manners to help a lady who needs it.

“No. No. It’s fine. I got it. Don’t help me.” She laughs shaking her head, nearly dropping it when she releases it from one hand to waft him off. “I didn’t get this far with help and I can get the rest of the way without it too, but thank you.”

After that he continued to find their paths crossing. Or more, he began to look out for her more, to notice what he routine and pattern might be. It’s not so much that he was stalking her, it’s not like he followed her or tried to purposely run into her when he knew she’d be coming back.

The time for him to begin travelling for the races was nearing and he needed to find a way to get her number and a reason to contacts her.

So he did what any sane person would do. He bought 15 new potted plants to keep around his apartment and went downstairs to knock on her door. Though it only dawned on him after ringing the doorbell that he never learned her name before this interaction and to her, he is much more of a stranger than she is to him.

“Oh, hi.” She smiles looking breathless as she appears at the door but it drops when she seems to look nearly horrified. “Oh my gosh, was I being too loud? I was painting the ceiling and I fell off the step ladder. I swear my pain tolerance is usually fine. But...”

She shifts her weight onto one foot and hides the shin of her leg behind her weight-bearing leg making Charles look down and grimace in sympathy since it looks like she’s ripped a few layers off skin off the front of her shin.

“I’m fine. But I’m so sorry if I-”

“It’s not that, but you should sit that looks sore...Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Oh yes, I do actually.”

She’s clearly young and maybe not always thinking with her head straight but it’s making her so endearing that Charles can’t help but smile.

“Come in! Come in. Gosh, my manners.” She gasps scolding herself under her breath as she digs under the kitchen sink then pulls out a box. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

“I’m Charles. Do you need some help?” Charles asks already feeling like he knows the answer.

“No. No. I got it. Thank you though, very kind of you.” She smiles brightly then jumping up on the kitchen island counter then she frowns again as a thought dawns on her and she looks at the F1 driver with furrowed brows. “Sorry, was there something else you came to speak about?”

“Yes, actually.” Charles laughs feeling a tingle in his chest when her face flushes in humiliation over her delayed realisation of why he might be there. “I am going to be travelling soon and over the winter I have acquired a few plants. I was hoping I might be able to ask a neighbour to just water them while I’m gone. As you live just below me I first thought of you. Especially after I saw you with that little orange tree.”

“It’s a kumquat tree.”

“Sorry?”

“The fruit tree, it’s kumquats. Not oranges...don’t worry. I only learned that after I brought it up here. They’re like an oranges weird cousin.” Y/n explains proving that she may lack a filter as well as an attention span, but it’s only adding to her appeal in Charles’ eyes. “Oh but I could water you plants no problem. What are neighbours for if they cannot water your plants?”

“Thank you, that means a lot...this is my spare key. Just so you can get in...Is there any chance I could get your number? Just then I can let you know when I’m back and you’re off duty.”

“Oh of course, plus I guess it’s always good to have neighbour’s numbers. Like if your apartment is broken into while you’re gone then I can call and let you now.”

“And if your apartment is broken into while I am here, you can call for help.”

“Charles, I am more than capable of handling an intruder. Don’t let a step ladder injury while decorating fool you. I know self-defence, and non-self defence.” Y/n declares which he can’t help but grin at. “Why are you smiling like that? I’m serious.”

“It is just nice to see someone be so confident in protecting themselves. I don’t even know I have that confidence.” Charles shrugs then placing his phone unlocked on the counter for her. “For your number.”

-----

After the Bahrain race, Charles really went home purely motivated by a certain girl and his plants.

He doesn’t even get past the entrance before he spots her opening her mail box.

“Y/n.” He greets making her jump and turn. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” She frowns but the bluff doesn’t even seem to convince her. “It was a jump of excitement.”

“I did not think you would be so happy to see me.” Charles jokes and the flush on his face is something he doesn’t believe he could pay enough money to see.“If you missed me it is ok to admit it, I’m sure my constant footsteps above you add such excitement to your day.”

“I-I did not-I just meant now I don’t have to water the huge amount of plants in your apartment.” Y/n lies turning away. “I thought you would be gone for longer.”

“I’m only back for a couple days.”

She nods then clearing her throat and smiling at him.

“I did realise I do actually owe you for the plants there must be a way that I can repay you. If there is anything you can think of? I’m happy to pay cash or if there is something else?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Y/n laughs shaking her head at him. “It’s watering plants, not donating an organ. That will cost you and since I know you make a ridiculous amounts of money, I’d chart extra purely because of net worth.”

“You are amazing.” That was meant to be internal monologue.

“I-uh, thank you. I should go, I got...I’m redecorating.” She stutters stumbling to the stairs instead of the lift and nearly tripping at the top of the first flight.

-----

Charles decided to leave a gift for y/n when he left and when he gets a text with a picture of it set up next to her window, near the kumquat tree. He left it at her door in fear that she might reject it. The text of gratitude that seemed nearly frustrated by the limitation of how she could express herself over text.

It’s another 3 weeks of text updates about his plants that seem to have had a complete glow up from their starting state.

“Why is your apartment filled with plants?” Andrea questions as they walk in.

“It brings life to the apartment. It is nice.” Charles states feeling a little defensive and protective of the plants, only because he knows how proud y/n is of these plants.

“Yes, but you are never here. Is your mum taking care of them?”

“No. A neighbour.”

Andrea frowns at the younger man who just smiles looking at one of the plants that looks very happy.

“I am going to go thank her actually. I will-”

“Her? Sorry, your neighbour is a her? Are you trying to take someone’s wife? Aren’t all your neighbours other men?”

“No. She lives just the apartment below.” Charles frowns then clearing his throat. “She lives alone.”

“Right, so she is some rich man’s daughter.”

“Everyone in Monaco is some rich man’s something. Leave her alone, you haven’t even met her.” Charles huffs then muttering that he’ll be back.

Thinking about it, he didn’t even check that she was in but thankfully when he knocks on the door. She smiles appearing.

“I thought I heard movement above. How long are you back this time?”

“A few weeks actually. We’re on a break.”

“Oh...ok. I hope you aren’t coming with complaints. I did spill some water the other day. But I swear I cleaned it up. I didn’t think I missed anything.” Y/n rambles then stepping aside. “Come in, you must be exhausted.”

“Thank you.”

“I actually watched your race. I’m sorry you didn’t get far into the Australian race. Those sorts of things can happen to anyone really. In fact the whole race was a bit of a disaster form beginning to end. It probably doesn’t help, but it made for great watching.” Y/n rambles beginning to tie her hair back which is when Charles notices that she’s completely redecorated.

“Wow, you redid everything?”

“Yeah, it was just feeling...I don’t know...not very me. Plus it was all rented furniture. I added the plants as a starting point. What do you think?”

“I love it. You have a taste for unique things.” Charles smiles as he looks around. “No more injuries from decorating?”

“No. No more injuries. But if you have any suggestions for unique decor. Please feel free to suggest. I’m always open.” She smiles then bouncing a bit on her feet. Then suddenly she launches onto him. “Thank you for the orange tree, I love it. It was so nice of you to do that.”

“I’m glad you liked it, I was worried more plants might overcrowd your apartment but you found the perfect spot for it.” Charles states before placing her down. “If you liked the race, I would love to invite you for the next race.”

The look of pure joy paints over expression and she beams, kissing both cheeks which leaves Charles laughing a little feeling maybe a little flustered over her forward actions.

“That would be amazing. You are so kind. So kind.”

-----

Charles didn’t need more reason to perform well really. But having y/n there for the Baku race, Charles has a bit of refreshed motivation. He’s also spent a lot of his time in the paddock completely amused by her just in awe of the entire experience.

Since he isn’t a believer of luck, he’s choosing to call it a coincidence that his first pole of the season is when y/n is present.

The moment he’s out of the media’s spying eye. He moves over and finds her practically buzzing with excitement and the moment he gets to her she launches herself on him again.

“You did amazing! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I got to be here to see it.” Y/n beams seemingly completely overwhelmed with joy on his behalf. “This is so cool.”

The rest of the weekend is pretty good with P2 for the sprint and P3 for the Grand Prix.

“I had the best time. I owe you big time, honestly this is just amazing.” Y/n grins at the end of the weekend as they sit down for dinner. “And you didn’t have to bring me out for dinner. You are the winner.”

“I want to bring you here.” Charles shrugs then smiling as their meals are placed down. “I’m glad you had a good time. It was nice to have you here, getting to know you a bit more. You will have to come to another race. I’ll get you some good seats for the Monaco race.”

“Feels like too much as repayment for just watering your plants.” Yes, the plants that were bought purely so he could get her attention.

“You paid for the flight here and your hotel, if I can pay for this meal it will be the first thing I’ve paid for the whole time you’ve been here.”

That’s true. Technically the paddock pass didn’t cost him anything either, it’s just part of the job.

“If it really makes you feel good, I will let you pay but then...is this a date?”

“I was hoping it might be.”

Y/n’s entirely face goes so red that Charles almost feels a need to be concerned but the smile on her face definitely settles the worries.

“Ok, then I guess I’d be rude to not let you pay if you want to.”

-----

The next time Charles gets home to Monaco, he arrives home to find a bowl of kumquats awaiting him with a note.

Try figuring out how to eat these, it took google to help me. From Y/n xxxx

“Are those mini oranges?” Arthur questions making Charles look up.

“Kumquats.”

“Kum-whats?”

“They’re from y/n, she has a kumquat tree.”

“Oh right, the girl that you bought all the plants to impress.”

“Not to impress, just to get her attention. It worked though.” Andrea laughs earning smirk from Charles. “Is she home right now? You should introduce your little brother.”

“She’s coming up now actually.” Charles states and almost as if she knew the timing was so perfect, the knock on the door makes him move over, grinning at him. “How do you eat a kumquat?”

“Eat it whole. Like a grape.”

Arthur, Andrea and Charles all look at her as if she’s trying to trick them but she grins when she sees Arthur.

“Hi, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

It doesn’t take long for Arthur to understand why Charles is so taken by his neighbour and then Charles tries to get rid of them after they decide that kumquats are actually pretty good and Charles has to fend his brother and Andrea off so they don’t eat them.

“I’m so glad everyone is getting introduced to kumquats because of me.” Y/n grins then stealing one from Charles as he finally releases them. “Did you really buy plants just get to know me?”

“Who told you?”

“You went to the bathroom and Arthur let it slip...it’s cute. I’m actually incredibly flattered that you saw me with a plant once and then bought 15 plants.” Y/n laughs as she lies her head in his lap. “I already love our how we met story.”

“At least you don’t want to run away because of it. I was going to tell you eventually.” Charles states making y/n grin up at him. “A wedding speech kind of thing.”

“Wedding? Amazing.” She cackles finding his reaction of spluttering over some words in realisation that he just casually mentioned getting married.

“Ok, we’re going on a date.”

“Hope this isn’t a ploy to propose.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #leclerc #charles #fanfic #imagine

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maybankswhore · 1 year

Text

high infidelity — xavier thorpe.

pairings: xavier thorpe x reader , tyler galpin x reader.

summary: your relationship with tyler got rocky when he started distancing himself from you. xavier just happened to be at the right place , at the right time.

do you really wanna know where i was april 29th? do i really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

You remembered that night vividly. You were wearing your favorite sundress because Tyler loved when you wore it. Your makeup had been done to perfection and you were bouncing off the walls , excited to finally spend time with Tyler. He had just been so busy lately , always leaving before it got dark , kissing the top of your head and darting away as soon as he got the chance.

You were never one to be insecure or worried about what Tyler was doing. You trusted him. You did.

Until he didn’t show at all. Your makeup was ruined by how much you cried , barely making out the letters on your phone. Tyler sending five messages in a row with some lame excuse , promising he’d make it up to you and how much he loved you.

You got up from the diner he was supposed to meet you at — the one your parents had dropped you off at expecting your boyfriend to bring you home.

You sat outside in tears somewhere that was towards the side. You cried not only because he cancelled , but because you felt as though the relationship wasn’t as strong as it used to be. He wasn’t as interested in you anymore. He never complimented you or made time for you. The two of you had been together for a year and for 5 of those months , he was acting as though you were just another customer — another friend.

“You okay?”

Your eyes glanced up and saw Xavier Thorpe. His hair pulled back in a bun showing off the features of his face well. His hands were shoved in his school jacket as he looked at you with curiosity , minimal concern , but curiosity. He knew you , how couldn’t he? You had always knew how to get the boy’s attention — even with normie Tyler Galpin on your arm.

Swallowing thickly , you wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay.” He commented , gesturing towards your tattered appearance.

Tearing your eyes away from him , you shrugged. “’M okay. Really.”

Silence hovered over the two of you for a minute. You didn’t bother looking back at him , assuming he’d walk away by the lack of conversation.

Your eyes shot up when he cleared his throat. “Want to come in with me? Was gonna take it to go but I think I found a reason to stay.”

you know there are many different ways to kill someone you love. the slowest way is never loving them enough.

Your relationship with Tyler was deteriorating. Fast. He spent most of his time with Wednesday and yours with Xavier. You noticed how fast he seemed to like her — how often you’d catch him looking at her when she wasn’t looking. Clear admiration and affection was on his face for her , though everytime you brought her up he’d shrug it off , lean it for a kiss and promised he loved you and nobody else.

You just didn’t feel it.

“You should just break up with him.” Xavier sighed as he rubbed your back comfortingly.

The two of you had discovered that you both had the same things in common. He loved to paint , and you loved museums. He liked action movies , and you liked popcorn. Everything the two of you were , just fit in together. You liked to talk , and Xavier loved to listen. Always.

The pit in your stomach grew darker. “I don’t know.” You mumbled and shook your head. “Maybe I just need to try harder or–or maybe if I dye my hair he’ll notice it and think I’m pretty again. . . like her.”

Xavier frowned. His hand grabbed at your face gently , turning you to look at him. “You are pretty. You always were. You don’t need to look like Wednesday , Y/N/N.” His eyes searched yours and you weren’t sure what it was. Your hand had absentmindedly found itself cupping the fingers he had around your face , your skin inviting the warmth of him to surround you gently. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.” Xavier said confidently.

Your cheeks turned red at the compliment. Sparks erupting around you as you looked at him with big eyes. “You’re just saying that you—”

“I mean it.” Xavier cut you off.

He shook his head with a sigh as he looked at you. Face fallen with little warm tears trailing along down your cheeks. He tutted , pinching your chin with his fingers while the other hand wiped them away quickly. “Pretty girls shouldn’t be crying.” Xavier said , barely above a whisper— but you heard him.

His words caused your heart to swell. And you didn’t know if it was his big , green eyes looking at you as though you really were that beautiful or the way your face felt like it had been set on fire the moment he had touched you. Though whatever it was , clouded your judgement , and before you could stop to think about the consequences , your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth pressed itself firmly against his.

The moment you kissed him , it was all over.

do you really wanna know where i was april 29th? do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life.

“I think we need to break up.” You rushed out , glancing around the shop to see if anyone was listening. He was on break — barely realized you were there before you began pulling him out the door and towards the alley.

Your hands were shoved in your coat pockets as yoy avoided his lingering gaze. You didn’t want to look. You didn’t want to see any hurt or betrayal— you had already done enough and your heart wasn’t his anymore. It was sad , but it was reality , and you had to face the music.

“W-What? I thought. . . I mean I know it’s been weird lately but I—”

You scoffed. “You thought what , Tyler? Skipping dates. Flirting with Wednesday in front of me— I was just supposed to accept that? Act like everything was fine? Well it wasn’t! It wasn’t fine.” You didn’t mean to get so angry. But he knew this was coming. He had to have known.

“I wasn’t flirting with Wednesday.” Tyler laughed dryly. “I could say the same about you and that freak Thorpe.”

The mention of Xavier brought a crimson color bright on your cheeks. With a quickening heart beat , you simply shook your head. “You don’t get to turn this around on me Tyler.”

Tyler didn’t say anything. He just looked at you and knew. He knew.

“You. . . you’re breaking up with me for him?” He said it like a question , his voice trailing off at the end. His mind tried wrapping around where everything went wrong— how it happened. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Sure , he knew he hadn’t been the best. But he was doing it for them— for his mom. He was doing something good and you didn’t even know about it. “What? Did you fuck him?”

“Tyler!” You gasped at his accusation. The aggression in his tone made your eyebrows furrow. “You have no right to turn this around on me! Not after I tried so hard for months. Months!”

“You aren’t saying no.” Tyler scoffed.

“I kissed him.” You admitted , swallowing thickly. Tyler’s eyes dropped , his words seemingly meaningless , were actually true.

“You were. . .” Tyler put his hands on his hips as he looked away , blinking away tears. “You were with him last night then? When I tried calling you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you love him?”

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

You paused and gave him a sad smile. You felt guilty for what you had done. It was wrong and you should’ve been thinking more clearly. But you couldn’t erase it. You couldn’t take it back.

All you had was forward now , and you felt like this was how it was supposed to be.

“He brought me back to life.”

#xavier thrope imagine #xavier x you #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #xavier thorpe x you #taylor swift #high infedelity #xavier x reader #xavier x tyler x reader

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fayesia · 5 months

Note

Hii, can you write some Coriolanus Snow smut? Maybe where the reader get trapped woth coryo in dr. Gaul’s lab and they accidentally both breath sex pollen in?

Sex Pollen — Coriolanus x reader

a/n: hello everyone!! thank u so much for the insane amount of request i’ve been getting as a response to my recent post. i will be getting to them do not worry i apologise if i’m slower than some of you were expecting. like i’ve said i’m not used to this and got followers A LOT quicker than i expected but again thank you all, lots of love Faye xx 💋

warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, coriolanus is a munch, fingering, cum play? (legit like a sentence at the end), lmk if i missed anything!

“woah what do you think this does?” you asked Coriolanus scanning the rack of vials containing numerous colours of liquid.

“i don’t know but let’s just get the medicine and leave”

“hmph fine” his response was much less daring but you simply assumed the pains he was getting medication for were getting to him.

You watched Coryo search through cupboards and shelves, meanwhile you found interest in a vial holding golden powder. Picking it up you observed the contents, the million specks of gold dust shined in the vial, it released a sweet smell, similar to maple syrup and honey.

“come look at this Coryo”

“give me a second. just gotta grab these…GOT IT!!”

his sudden outburst shocked you, the vial slipped from you hands smashing onto the ground, particles floated in the air, the room filling up with it as it wafted onto you and Coriolanus.

“what is this, what was in the vial?!”

“i don’t know okay you just scared me i’m sorry i don’t know why i dropped it”

Noticing your frenzied state he rushed over next to you.

“hey hey it’s ok, it was an accident, i shouldn’t have yelled at you, i apologise”

“we have to get out quickly” grabbing the medicine you’re both about to leave until Coriolanus stumbles, you rush to him grabbing him by the arm. An action supposedly to support him but rather resulting in you falling on top of him. Scrambling up the two of you rush out of Dr Gauls lab with barely any time to spare before her return. playfully winking at him you turn around mouthing the words “mission accomplished”. The triumph causing a rush of adrenaline you believed to be the reason behind the heating up of your body, little did you know the truth was far from that.

Back in your room the full effects of what seemed to be contained in that vial were effecting you, sharp pains assaulted your body while the heat only rose in your lower stomach.

Lying spread eagle face down on the bed you could barely move your head to hear the door to your room open. Coriolanus came rushing through standing by the side of your bed.

“what was in that vial. tell me you feel it too. tell me i’m not going crazy” you’re at a loss for words at this point simply nodding your head as a no in response to him questioning his sanity.

Your eyes finally focus enough to take notice of Coriolanus’ clothing — or rather lack of — his muscular physique is sculpted in a clean white wife beater and a pair of boxers. Your lower region only seems to get hotter and this sight, the first gush of liquid releasing from you, a sudden sensation shocking you as a small gasp left your mouth.

“what happened… oh” Coriolanus looks down as your thighs rub together, the embarrassment you should’ve felt seemed to have been taken over by the overwhelming need to be filled by something, a feral hunger only he could fill. A few seconds of silence pass by until you hear a loud sigh “fuck this” reaching forward Coriolanus lips capture your soft ones.

Both of your tongues fight for dominance, in the end Coriolanus wins unsurprisingly thanks to his ferocity, his hands resting on your hip slowly sliding up your shirt. Calloused hands squeeze your breast over your bra while your fingertips brush across his hard chest, no crevice of his abs left unexplored.

Clothes start piling up on the floor until Coriolanus is fully undressed staring down at you with you legs spread, a simple white lace underwear covering the one place he wants more than ever, a small oval stain of your need increasing his sense of urgency.

Pulling your hips closer to the edge, he kneels on the floor dragging your panties off and throwing them somewhere to join the rest of your clothes

“you’re so fucking beautiful”

you nervously smile down at him

“do you want this too?”

“please i need you, fucking hurts please do something, anything”

he breathily laughs at your response getting to work quicker than you expected, the feeling of his mouth sucking at your pussy while his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit leaves you a writhing, your loud moans echoing around the room. While his mouth is busy working on you, one of his hands is jerking off his cock, the tip bright pink and glistening from pre cum.

Coriolanus’ hands flip you over, pushing your back into a deep arch you’re more than compliant to, his hand forcing your cheek against the sheets while his other one positions his cock against your dripping hole. Sliding the length of his dick against your pussy he coats it with your arousal, which he uses as lube, slowly entering your pussy.

“Tell me when to keep going, god you’re just so wet for me”

Your pussy perfectly wraps around his cock and as you start getting used to his girth you began pushing back against him, more inches entering you, stretching you out more than your fingers ever could.

“Please keep going coryo hmm” you beckon him to began thrusting.

The noises of Coriolanus’ hips smacking against your ass from his hard thrust are the only things heard around the room, wet noises of your leaking pussy join soon, the volume of your moans increasing even more once two of his fingers rub at your clit.

You whine when Coriolanus pulls out, the empty feeling causing the pain from earlier to return.

“wanna look at your face when you come” you hear him whisper before he flips you over.

He roughly pushes your thighs against your shoulders, the action squishing your breast together, as he quickly slides himself back into you. His actions almost a whole one eighty compared to how sweet and gentle he was at first. However you’re not going to complain right now, staring into his blue eyes, the pair covered in a glossy shine with how dazed he is from pleasure, he moves his cock in and out at a pace that has you ready to come.

“Not yet baby”

“Hngh I’m gonna come please let me come”

“Wait for me, you’re not coming until I do, together”

You’re basically clinging onto the edge of your climax, the warm and wet walls of your pussy tighten around him cock, releasing more animalistic noises from his throat. He almost growls out the word ‘come’ and of course you’re more than happy to do exactly that. His hips stutter and with one more thrust Coriolanus’ cum shoots deep into your pussy, the feeling of your walls tightening, milk more and more cum out of him.

As he slowly pulls out, a mixture of his thick load and your cum pours out from your hole, the two of you watching it leak it. Unexpectedly Coriolanus drags his middle and ring finger through the mess, collecting a decent amount he pushes it back into your pussy, twitching a little after having such a stimulating orgasm.

Coriolanus kisses your forehead, his arms wrapping around your curdled body pulling you close, pressing yourself against him. The two of you falling into a peaceful rest.

~unedited~

#smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes smut #young!coriolanus snow

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starfinss · 4 months

Note

I loved your recent zoro gif :) I’d like to request a fem ready x zoro nsfw where maybe a girl flirts with him and reader gets really jealous but he fucks female reader infront of the girl…sorry if that’s insane i’m having major zoro brain rot :p

Ah, thank you! I was really nervous to post that fic since it was my first time ever writing Zoro, and I wasn’t at all confident in the quality, so it’s a huge relief to hear that you liked it so much. Anyway, this ask got me thinking, so you got it.

NSFW under the cut!

— ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ

“Don’t look now,” Nami said, “but some girl is all over Zoro.”

You looked up from your drink and across the bar, to the table where Zoro was sitting. Sure enough, there was indeed a girl. She was wearing a tiny little red dress, one that hugged her curves like she’d been poured into it. A pair of black heels were on her feet, making her long legs look even longer. Her hair was black as spilled ink, worn loose around her narrow shoulders. From this angle, you couldn’t see her face, but you were certain it had to be just as gorgeous as the rest of her.

Nevertheless, you took a gulp of your drink. This wasn’t uncommon. It was no secret that your boyfriend was an attractive man, and while his looks intimidated some, there were a fair few like this girl who took their chances anyway. But you weren’t worried. Anyone who knew Zoro knew he only had eyes for you.

“It’s fine,” you said, “he won’t let it get too far.”

“Oh?” Nami countered, “she’s on his lap now.”

Your head snapped up. “She’s what?”

Nami gestured with a tilt of her head, and you followed her gaze. Just as she said, the girl had settled herself onto Zoro’s knee, and just as you’d thought, she was incredibly beautiful. Big, doe eyes and full lips, painted vibrant red to match her dress. And she was laying it on thick. Eyelashes batting, plump lower lip catching between perfect white teeth, slim arms wrapping around Zoro’s body. You ignored the flush of anger that briefly clouded your mind.

You trusted Zoro. You knew it would be any second before he shoved her off of him, or before his lack of response to her flirting caused her to lose interest.

Nami cleared her throat.

Because then, the girl was leaning close to him, lips grazing his jaw, and before you knew what you were doing, you were standing up and crossing the bar, the buzz of alcohol giving you confidence.

“Excuse me,” you said, and you felt so silly, getting jealous like this, but she was all over him, and the way she looked at you, down her nose like you were less than her, it made your blood boil.

“Yeah?” She said, a laugh on her lips, arms tightening around Zoro, and you felt your anger grow white hot.

“You’re in for it, now,” Zoro said, mirth in his eyes, and you glared at him as he took a swig from his mug of beer, completely unaffected by the girl’s flirting.

“Oh, am I?” She said, clearly taking what Zoro said as a joke, but you knew him well enough to know that he was merely interested in what you were doing.

“You’re in my seat,” you said, and you watched her doe eyes flash in amusement as she shuffled closer to your boyfriend, who did no more than lean away from her, clearly uninterested.

“Am I?” She asked, coy, “I think I’ll keep it.”

“Zoro,” you said, “what do you think of that?”

Zoro’s eyes met yours, and then he was gesturing towards the door with his head, subtly enough that only you saw what he was doing. You stared at him, puzzled.

“Hey,” he said, and though he was turned towards her, his eyes were on you, “meet me outside in ten minutes. In the alleyway.”

She looked at you, smugly, as she rose from Zoro’s lap.

“Looks like you’ve been replaced,” she cooed, her grin devious as she passed you, shoulder bumping yours as she made her way to the back of the bar, surely to freshen up in the bathroom. But Zoro had other plans.

As soon as she was out of sight, he was downing the rest of his beer, even if there was still a substantial amount left, and then he standing to take your hand, quickly leading you out the door.

“I know you’re not taking her into the alleyway,” you said, and Zoro laughed.

“No,” he said, “I’m taking you into the alleyway.”

Giddiness mixed with nerves twisted together in the pit of your stomach as Zoro’s grip on your hand grew tighter. Logically, you supposed you should have guessed what Zoro was doing the second he brought up the alleyway, and you should have fully expected him to pull something like this, yet you were still a little surprised he was actually doing it.

“Were you seriously jealous?” Zoro said, lips dragging along the curve of your jaw as your back made contact with the alley wall. He’d tugged you behind a stack of crates, out of sight just enough that someone who wasn’t looking wouldn’t be able to spot you. Nevertheless, you still felt rather exposed.

“No,” you said, head falling back, and he huffed a laugh against your skin.

“Liar.”

You gasped softly when his teeth grazed the spot where your jaw met your throat, tongue passing over your pulse point, making heat rush down your body, aided by the alcohol already in your system.

“Am not,” you countered, with no actual firmness, and Zoro chuckled, hands finding your waist and slipping beneath the tight fabric of the slightly midriff bearing top you were wearing.

“Are, too,” he murmured, “c’mon, babe, you know you’ve got no competition.”

“She’s so beautiful,” you said, arms slinging around his shoulders, and he moved up to look at you.

“She can’t even compare.”

And he was kissing you. You sighed against his mouth, hands tangling into his hair, back arching as his hands slid down your body to rest on your hips. He hiked up your skirt, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist before breaking away to trail kisses down your throat again. You helped him push up your shirt, and he merely rucked your bra up above your breasts instead of bothering to remove it. When his palm pressed against your bare skin, you had to bite back a whine.

“Someone will see us,” you protested, albeit weakly, and he chuckled darkly, tweaking a nipple between two calloused fingers.

“That’s the point.”

The prospect of that thrilled you more than you wanted to say, some carnal part of you actually pleased that the girl who was all over your boyfriend would see you like this, see him like this, completely enamored with you in a way he’d never be with her.

It was primitive and petty, and you knew it, but damn it if it wasn’t hot as hell.

Zoro’s mouth pressed against the top of your breast, lips finding your nipple, and you covered your mouth as he rolled it under his tongue, forced to bite down on your palm as his hips rolled against yours. You could feel him through his slacks, already halfway hard, and the thought that this thrilled him just as much as you only turned you on even more.

You felt his mouth on yours again, and when his tongue licked against the seam of your lips, you gladly parted them, tangling even further with him. His hand squeezed at your breast gently, thumb rubbing over your nipple, and he swallowed down your cry of pleasure, hips rutting up against you.

His hand slid between your thighs, dipping into your panties, and you whimpered against his mouth as he ran his middle finger against you, aided well by the soak of your arousal. Your back arched when he sank a finger inside of you, breath leaving you when his palm ground against your clit. Another finger was added, and you keened at the stretch, hips bucking against his hand.

Zoro knew just where to touch, just how to make you lose your mind. He whispered soft praises as you rolled your hips against his hand, mouth surely leaving marks on your exposed throat, his hot breath fanning against your skin and sending forks of lightning down your already electrified skin.

“Zoro,” you cried, “just fuck me already.”

He laughed against your skin, fingers curling inside of you.

“That what you want? Yeah?”

You nodded quickly, fingers knotting in the fabric of his shirt, and when he pushed his own fingers deeper, you had to fight back a whimper of bliss.

“Then hold onto me.”

He withdrew his fingers, the resulting sound a wet schlick that would’ve been embarrassing under any other circumstances, but as he lifted your leg, pinning it against his hip, you hardly cared, especially as he pushed your panties aside to expose you to him.

Zoro wrestled with his belt, and you reached forward to help him, freeing his cock and catching it in your hand. He groaned softly as you stroked him, tugging gently to guide him towards you.

“So impatient,” he chided, and you nipped at his throat in retaliation.

“Take responsibility for it, it’s your fault,” you countered, and he snorted in amusement.

“I’m not the one who got so jealous.”

You lifted your hips, aiding him as he slowly pressed forward, filling you in a slow, easy thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the word drawn out with the sound, “you feel so perfect.”

He thrust forward once, then again, and your head fell back against the wall of the alleyway, leaving your throat exposed for him to attach his mouth to. When his teeth sank into your flesh, you whined, the sound turning into a moan when he rolled his hips, the stretch of him inside of you almost too perfect.

Your arms wrapped tight around his neck, and when you muffled another cry, you felt his thumb run over your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth. He always had this effect on you, driving you so completely insane, yet you were completely addicted, and in absolutely no hurry to kick that addiction.

“Faster,” you pleaded, and he grunted as he hiked your leg higher on his hip, hips snapping forward and scattering your thoughts to the wind.

“Zoro, Zoro, fuck—”

He groaned in response, breath uneven as his grip on your thigh grew tighter, and his free hand was slipping between you, the rough pad of his thumb finding your clit. The action sent a jolt up your spine, forcing you to tighten around him, and you struggled to swallow back your yelp of surprised pleasure. He was filling you so fucking well, and your mind was empty except for thoughts of him, the feel of his fat cock splitting you open.

“You take it so pretty,” he praised, voice a low rumble, and you could do no more than whine as he pushed deeper, hips angled to hit the spot that made you see stars.

The leg supporting you was beginning to tremble, but Zoro shifted closer, borderline pinning you against the wall with his hips as he fucked into you, the cool night air filled with the slick sound of him moving in and out of you, uncaring of who heard. You muffled another whine, and he was kissing you hard, thumb pressing harder against your clit, and your head felt like it was full of intoxicating fog.

“Feels good?” Zoro breathed, “yeah?”

You nodded, moaning almost pitifully, back arching as he rubbed circles against your clit, making you tighten around him.

“You’re the only one who does this to me,” he said, kissing your jaw, “you know that, yeah?”

You nodded again, letting out a strangled whine as he rolled his hips just right, reeling from the sensations, and you could feel your climax building, burning low in your stomach, making you toss your head back, gasping, utterly breathless.

“Were you waiting long— oh.”

Both of your heads snapped towards the new voice, and you felt shame mix hot with arousal as you took in the sight of the girl in the red dress standing beside the crates that hid you and Zoro from view, shock emblazoned across her pretty features. You watched her swallow, clearly embarrassed, and Zoro took that chance to thrust roughly up into you, forcing a thin, breathy moan from your throat.

He curled closer to you, pressing hard onto your clit, and you wanted to hide your face as he picked up his pace. He was glaring at her, even as he throbbed inside of you, almost possessive, showing her just how little he cared about her advances. It was intoxicating, in a way that made you burn with both embarrassment and excitement.

“Get lost,” he snarled, rutting up into you again, making you gasp.

The girl swallowed again, face as scarlet as her dress, and she was scurrying off, tail between her legs.

Zoro’s pace picked up, and any other thoughts were ejected from your mind as he focused solely on what he was doing to you.

“She won’t bother us again,” he rasped, “this is all I need, this pussy. You think she can compare? Huh?”

You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut, and fuck, you were getting close, legs shaking as he pushed against your clit harder, thick cock filling you so perfect, and he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You whined between your teeth as he drove you closer, fingers digging into his shoulders, hips bucking against him.

“That’s it,” he urged, “that’s it, cum on my fuckin’ cock.”

That did it. You had to bite down on his shoulder as you came, your orgasm tearing through you, making you clamp tight around him, and he was swearing against your skin, hips stuttering at the sudden tightness. He slowed his thrusts, helping you through the aftershocks of your climax, and you sobbed in pleasure as he rolled your clit slowly under his thumb, prolonging the blissful feel of it all.

“Shit— shit!”

Zoro growled against your skin as he chased his own release, hips unrelenting, and you gasped as you clung to him, trembling and oh-so sensitive. You could do no more than chant his name, muffled by his shoulder, tears beading your lash line.

“Cumming,” he blurted, voice strained, “‘m cumming—”

He pressed all the way forward, stuffing you full, and he was gushing inside of you, stuffing you full. You could feel the heat of it blooming deep inside, and you moaned, eyes rolling back, fucked completely dumb.

The alleyway was quiet as the two of you caught your breaths, the silence only punctuated by labored breath, and then Zoro was kissing you, initially frenzied, but slowing down into passionate and tender. Your hands cupped his cheeks, sliding to lace into the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

Slowly, he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours for a few moments before pulling out and tucking himself back into his trousers. He helped you fix your own clothing before tugging you close, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I love you,” you said, eyes closed, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“I love you, too.”

After you finished recovering, he put an arm around your waist, leading you back into the bar. Your legs were wobbly, so he let you lean against him somewhat, guiding you to the table he’d been sitting at before. You settled yourself into his lap when he sat down, and he wrapped his arms around you, the position comfortable and natural.

You could feel that girl’s eyes on you, and when you looked over at her, she quickly pretended she wasn’t watching, busying herself with what she was drinking. You heard Zoro snicker, obviously pleased with what he’d just done.

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, stealing closer. You never had any need to feel threatened.

Zoro made sure of that.

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whimsywilde · 7 months

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Astarion's Mirror

I couldn't get this out of my head after seeing the idea mentioned somewhere. (A TikTok comment maybe?) I haven't written fanfic since DAI. How am I back at this again? I'm not 100% satisfied with it but if I fiddle too much, I'll lose interest and it will disappear in the WIP folder. lol Enjoy!

Thank you Larian Studios and Neil Newbon for this incredible, beautiful, heartbreaking character!

Recommened Listening: THE FEELS by Labrinth

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“Astarion…” she paused, hesitating, uncertain if the thought that had just danced across her mind would actually work. Sometimes she forgot he was a vampire. His lack of burning up in the sun tended to put his condition out of her mind. The mirror in his hand, however, had brought it back in stark relief. But… what if?

“As adorable as you are when thinking, I can’t help but feel there was more you wanted to say than just my name.” He smirked at her.

She resisted the urge to fall back into their playful banter. “What if you could see yourself… I mean, sort of.”

“What?” It was more of a whispered plea than a question. “How?”

“I’m not sure if it will work. But, the parasites… they’ve let us see into one another's minds before. It makes sense that we could see more.”

She hadn’t really been looking at him while she spoke, her eyes focused on some invisible point in the distance. Turning her attention more directly to him, his expression caught her off guard. She’d never seen him so vulnerable.

“We don’t have to. I’m not even completely sure it would work. I’ve never really tried to use it before. I just thought….”

“Would you try?” He interrupted, his voice still unnaturally hesitant, absent of the bravado she was used to. “Please.” It was almost an afterthought but may have been the most sincere she’d ever heard him.

She smiled tightly, worried now she’d be unable to connect that way, before closing her eyes and reaching for that alien presence within her mind. She hated the feeling of the cold shiver in her skull as she consciously connected to it and then, taking a breath, eyes tightly shut, reached out to where she felt she’d find Astarion.

At first the connection was light, barely perceptible, like cobwebs in the breeze. After focusing on it for a few seconds, reaching out to it with uncertain hands, it seemed to expand. With her eyes still tightly closed, it was the tide of emotions slowly rolling up in the shore of her mind that hit her first. The anticipation, hopeful expectation, fear and worry. She resisted the urge to retreat from the intensity of his feelings and the jumbled, wordless thoughts that came with them and, again, focused past them. After several seconds, she was surprised to suddenly find herself looking through Astarion’s eyes at herself. She stilled to allow the image of herself solidify in her mind.

Her eyes opened slowly. She allowed her gaze to linger near Astarion’s feet as gained confidence in the connection. The impatience he was feeling rushed to greet her through the bond.

“Look at me.” It was something between a command and a plea.

She opened her mind to him as completely as she could, wanting him to know that she had no motivations behind her actions and lingering gaze other than to allow him to see himself clearly, to be a mirror. She took a deep breath, centered herself and began to slowly lift her eyes up his body. Her gaze was gentle and curious, more that of an artist studying their work, rather than the lusty intensity of a lover. She followed the narrow slope of his hips up his chest and across his shoulders, her eyes lingering for mere moments before moving on. As she reached his neck, there was a brief glance to the scars that had made him the creature he was, before following his perfectly coiffed hair around his face.

Part of her still wanted to tease him, to play. They’d been having fun, taken next to nothing seriously while they traveled and fought together. Even when she allowed him to drink from her, always standing since him hovering over her had felt too intimate, she typically pushed him away afterward with a joke on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. It was easy and had been so natural to keep him just close enough without letting him in. The intensity of his feelings pouring into her now was more than she bargained for and she had a moment of regret for offering to even try. She didn’t want to feel so much. It left her vulnerable. Opened her up to much more than she wanted to be aware of. Her eyes had frozen at the base of his throat. Why couldn’t she bring herself to look up? She didn’t like the answers her heart was trying to give. His fingers curled lightly under her chin, lifting her face upward, pulled her attention back.

Her eyes snapped up to his suddenly and he gasped. The light from the campfire flickered and flashed across brilliant crimson. My eyes. Those are my eyes. His thoughts came through their link in sharp clarity. Her attention refocused on allowing him to see his face after so long in the dark and allowed the intensity of what he was feeling to drown out her own heart. She didn’t need to exist for this moment. She was giving this gift and she allowed herself to fall back within to the place of an observer. With her surrender, it allowed him to direct her eyes across his features. He took himself in fully and they stood in hushed stillness, eyes and minds locked together.

With their minds so fully blended, she almost didn’t notice her hand absentmindedly reaching out to rest lightly on the side of his face. He didn’t pull away. She used her thumb to pull gently at his bottom lip, exposing his fangs to her gaze.

They passed several seconds that way before her hand dropped, her vision swirling and darkening. She felt her body sway heavily and would have fallen if Astarion hadn’t caught her. Her head was pounding while her stomach churned. She sent up a silent prayer, to whatever god may be listening, that she wouldn’t vomit.

Astarion supported her body against his gently. When she tried to push away from him, he lifted her carefully and carried her to her tent, laying her down on her bedroll.

“You pushed yourself too far. You need to rest,” he scolded. She wanted to protest; to throw out some snarky remark in an attempt to catch him off guard so that they could go back to the superficial game they shared, but she couldn’t seem to measure out enough strength to respond. Sleep was quickly overtaking her. She was never sure if he’d actually turned to look at her before leaving the tent and whispered a strangled thank you or if it was just part of the fevered dreams of the night.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #larian studios #thank you larian #neil newbon

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 2 years

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The More You Give ❧ (Part I)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, do not interact if you are underage. Heavy petting, fingering, nothing much else this chapter. Reader is 18+ and has been since before Eddie was interested. Reader is a virgin who has bad previous sexual experiences (not assault). Mentions of bullying and anxiety around this. Under 21s drinking alcohol. Eddie makes a little joke about getting reader high and taking advantage. Expect coming of age vibes the whole way through and as a result there is a fair amount of exposition this chapter. I’m trying to capture the particular way girls hurt each other. Non canon-compliant; the gate closed forever in 1985.

Word count | ~6,950

A/N | Some of you hate girly-girl reader, some of you hate not-like-other-girls reader. I am here to unite you against a common enemy; not-like-other-girly-girls reader. I really think I can bridge the gap with this one. I joke, but my point is Eddie Munson is capable of loving literally every person ever put on this planet, who dress all sorts of ways and are interested in all sorts of things. My y/n loves Rilke.

Reposting one more time and tagging @darlingpumpkin for her lovely comment on the post that didn’t show up that made me cry.

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"Please!" May cries again, clasping her hands together like she's begging. "I just know bringing something tonight will get me my chance with Liam. And the freak...freaks me out!”

"But I don’t get why that means I should be the one that meets him.”

"You know, I thought you kind of liked Eddie.”

Heather’s smile is innocent, her head tilting like she doesn’t know exactly how much you like Eddie. Like you hadn’t sat and told her every detail of your gooey, warm crush on him that one time she’d snuck a bottle of pink gin to your house.

"Wait, you like the freak?" May asks, her face a picture of confusion. You twist your hands in your skirt when she makes a noise of disgust. "Oh my god!" She says your name incredulously. "That is so gross!"

Your mouth opens, then closes with a bite to your lip. You want to defend yourself, defend Eddie, but find yourself toeing the ground with your shoe instead.

"If I'd known you might enjoy a little rendezvous with Eddie Munson in the woods, I'd have begged a little less," May says, voice all amusement until she catches your hurt look and sighs. "Look, please just get the weed from him for me? You don’t even have to talk to him, but he really does scare me. Heather’s meeting Patrick, otherwise I would totally ask her."

Another version of you, one that knew how to get into conflict and come out on top, would tell her that's not true. Would list every time, at least every time you remember, that you'd done something like this for your friends. Risking trouble, going out of your way.

You take the $20 she has ready and tuck it into your purse.

"Hey," May says, tone all innocent mocking. "Maybe you should try flirting with Munson. You might be able to get me a discount."

Your leg starts shaking the second you’ve sat yourself down on the picnic table in the woods, placing your bag on the bench at your feet. Smoothing your skirt down, you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm the harsh pounding under your décolletage before he gets here.

For the first couple years of High School, you didn’t really think about Eddie Munson. You thought he was cute, on the odd occasion you’d catch sight of him looking smiley or laughing, but you had a million other things to worry about before any feelings of attraction to a boy so far outside your sphere. Math tests and making enough money babysitting to buy that particular skirt. Keeping up with the love life of each and every cheerleader that so graciously allows you to sit with them, despite your lack of green and white uniform.

But then, he didn’t leave High School with the others his age, and you started hearing his voice, his laugh, in class each day. You saw the cycle of him desperately writing notes, eyes intent on the board, before his attention would drop, neat bullet points bordered with doodles until he’d flinch, realise what he was doing, and start writing again despite what he’d missed.

Once you were aware of him as more than a cuteish boy who was best not to think about on account of the rumours (failing school, dealing drugs, parents in prison), a couple things planted the seed.

With your arms above your head, body swaying and rolling, you found Eddie’s eyes. In that comfortable space, your brain just nicely cottony from what you’d drank, still one shot away from searching for May and convincing her to hold your hand for the rest of the night just so she knows you love her, you were happy to move this way in front of Eddie.

Eddie’s gaze was shifting from the boy buying from him, the money he was being handed, to you, your hips, and back again. For a minute, it didn’t matter who he was, his eyes on you had the space between your legs warming pleasantly. You caught his stare with yours, thought about reaching out and asking him to come put his hands on you and feel you move. Some other boy touched you instead, and by the time you’d politely guided him away from your body, Eddie was gone. You just caught the mass of his hair weaving between warm bodies towards the door.

The details were fuzzy when you woke up the following morning, but you felt the lack of his presence the next time you found yourself dancing, wishing you were being watched by dark eyes.

Weeks later, COCKTEASE, written in black ink across your locker, the first Monday after Andy’s brutal, ranting break up speech. Your eyes were bubbled with tears as you ruined the sleeve of your pretty white cardigan trying to rub it away with just wool and spit. It smudged and spread. The letters remained clear and every whisper behind you was a repetition of this taunt.

“Hey, no need for that.” Hands decorated with metal rings interrupted yours, replacing your sleeve with a paper towel that smells like vodka, the ugly word gone in seconds. You sniffled, looking up at community menace Eddie Munson, whose eyes are shiny and brown. “All gone.” He’d given you a soft little smile, leaning in enough that tingles ran up your neck at the feeling of his warm breath on your face. “If that ever happens again, just come find me, okay? I keep a stash.” He handed you another piece of towel for your wet eyes and straightened, rolling his shoulders back. Eddie waited for a little nod of assent before he left you standing there with something small but alive, green and growing, sprouting in your chest.

At the end of last year, when classes were winding down, you had a presentation for English. You hate public speaking. More than anything in the world, you hate public speaking. To talk, even about your favourite book, something you knew inside and out, was a nightmare. You’d regretted your choice as soon as you were in front of the class. You could have lied, picked anything. Old Yeller, The Great Gatsby, 1984, something distant from you, something that wouldn’t matter, but instead you went and picked-

“Sonnets to Orpheus is, um-” You swallowed, fingers pulling at the back of your skirt. “Is a book of poems by Rainer Maria Rilke.” Blank faces stared back at you. Your face was hot all over, down to your décolletage. “He was an Austrian poet-”

“Did she say the guy’s name is Maria?”

Your head snapped to the faceless question, the scoff, finding a couple of confused boys. The question was an unwelcome shock to your word for word rehearsed script. The interruption left you rudderless and trying to grab pieces of information from the unsettled ocean of your mind.

“It’s all generally sort of about how, well, things like poetry influence life. The life of a poet. Um-” You tucked a foot behind your ankle, dragging it up and down your calf. Betty Melville blows a bubble with pink gum, the pop of it making you flinch. “Like Orpheus! He was a poet- the best poet, or a musician. And in the myth - he’s part of a Greek myth about him and his wife - in the myth, he travels to the underworld to save Euridice, who’s his wife, from Hades.”

“Oh, fucking cool,”

You blinked. Eddie Munson was sitting forward in his seat, staring at you intently. His eyes were wide with interest. Catching your gaze, he gave you an encouraging, prompting smile.

“Eddie, please keep that kind of language to yourself.”

Eddie apologised to Miss O’Donnell with a charming grin just bordering on sardonic, then, looking at you, said, “it is cool though.”

“Yeah, yes, it’s really cool. Actually, the whole book is poems that are sort of intended to be lessons to people like Orpheus, about dealing with the things that happen in life.” Your eyes were fixed on his face, on the encouraging smile you could hardly believe was there. “My favourite, in the whole book, is Want the Change, which is about learning to appreciate things you might not necessarily have wanted to happen, and how they can actually lead to good things, if you let them. I can, I can read it, maybe? It’s only short.”

Your teacher said something, but it was Eddie’s excited nod that made you open the book you held in trembling hands and find the page most worn at the edges.

“Want the change,” you started. “Be inspired by the flame, where everything shines as it disappears.”

You spent the rest of your minutes looking only between the words you loved and Eddie’s kind eyes, the soft earth of your heart blooming with colour.

“You lost, sweetheart?” Your head snaps up from your bare knees to find Eddie walking towards you, in the process of shrugging off his jacket.

"I'm May's friend," you say quietly, followed by your name, unsure if he’d even know it. "She couldn't come because…well, because-"

“My guess is she's scared of meeting the freak in the woods?” Your expression must be answer, enough, because he rolls his eyes. Eddie places the black lunchbox on the table by your hip, eyes focused on where his thumb plays with the latch. “So she sent you. You're not scared of me?"

Of a boy with big eyes and a stash of paper towels to rub mean words off lockers? You give him a little, friendly smile and shake your head.

Eddie grins at that, eyes crinkling around the sides with it. He clasps his hands together in front of him then lets go, drumming a little on the table. For a second you’re just looking at each other, listening to the rhythmic beat of his knuckles against wood until he clears his throat. "Okay. Down to business."

"May told you what she wanted?"

"In the five seconds she was willing to stand near me? Sure did.” He flips open the box in a smooth motion. "I normally charge $20 for the half ounce."

You open your mouth to tell him that's what she gave you, cut off by Eddie continuing.

"If she'd given me the chance, I would have told her that sending her pretty friend out to collect would get her a 25% discount. But, uh,” he holds one of the plastic bags out to you, shrugging, brown eyes shining. "I guess it's just her lucky day."

Your mouth must be filled with cotton, or else your brain, because you don’t say anything. You just stare at him long enough that he starts to tilt his head, looking like he regrets his last words. "You okay?"

“I'm sorry.” You shake your head, smoothing your palms down over your calves awkwardly. "That’s very sweet of you, Eddie,” you finally answer, sounding almost out of breath when you take the bag from him. “But it's still her money. You might as well take the twenty."

"I won’t tell, if you keep the five."

Your eyes widen, scandalised even as you zip up your backpack to hide the weed inside. "Oh, I would never do that."

Eddie tucks the offered $20 into his wallet. “Thought not, but I mean, I never thought I'd ever see you out here, either.” Eddie says, sitting up on the table next to you. Not close enough to touch, to feel the softness of his t-shirt or his skin, but enough that you get a hint of the warmth he’s radiating.

“Oh. Why not?”

“Uhhh.” He’s not subtle, eyes drifting up your body from the frilly edges of your socks to the bow of the scrunchie that’s currently holding your hair back from your face. “I guess I was worried you might be like your friend.”

“May’s a good person, Eddie,” you say. “But, well, she has to fit in with the cheerleaders, you know? That’s why she says mean things sometimes.”

There’s a pause while Eddie blinks. Then, eyebrows together, he asks, “she ever mean to you?”

You’re about to shake your head instinctively, but you end up staring at him. It wouldn’t be like telling Heather, you realis, or even your Mom who had known May since she was in pigtails. Eddie would listen, you think. Eddie would listen and Eddie would understand. You look down, considering your next words, realising that you’re about to tell Eddie Munson something that you've never voiced to anyone else.

But your name comes in a yell from behind you. Speak of the devil springs to mind, followed by guilt and the question of when you started thinking about someone you love this way.

May stands there with Andy, of all people, at the edge of the trees. "Come on!" May eyes Eddie nervously, glaring when he waves at her with waggling, ringed fingers.

“You’re that scared of me that you had to bring some muscle with you?”

“She was worried for her friend after she was out here with you so long," Andy answers, crossing his arms. He looks at you. "We both were."

Defend him, you think. But then May is shaking her hand at you again, telling you to move. Your name is a rough order in her mouth.

Grabbing your bag and sliding off the table in a rush, you pause for a second to look him in the eye. "Thanks, Eddie."

"Nice doing business with you, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" May repeats, incredulous, grabbing your arm and pulling you close so Andy can’t hear her hiss. "Please tell me you were not actually flirting with the freak."

You look at Eddie over your shoulder, catching his intent gaze before May presses on your back, forcing you to look away.

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That night, your fingers flex under the wet stroke of polish. "He was actually really sweet."

“Stop moving!” Heather yells, tsking at the quick drying yellow smudge on your finger. She wipes it away with a piece of cotton and acetone before she grants you a smile. “It’s so funny, how people can come across one way, and be so different when you really talk to them.”

Your face is warm, your voice is a whisper. "He called me pretty."

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing,” May says from across the room. “Not only do you have a weird little crush on Eddie Munson, you’re now actually thinking about, what, dating him?”

Your smile fades a little. “He really isn’t like what people say.”

“Except he literally is exactly like what people say?” She answers, her voice cutting. “He started a club called Hellfire. He has all those boys wearing that shirt like some kind of cult!” She rolls her eyes, going back to applying her lipstick. “My Mom said that game they play is all to do with Satanist stuff, too.”

Heather's fingers hover in the air over the cross around her neck. She only drops her hand at the sight of your deflated expression, looking over her shoulder. "Your Mom doesn't know everything, May.”

“Well, she didn’t make it up herself! There’s studies on what it does to people, Heather! Real studies!”

You feel wilted by the end, unsure of how to explain yourself. You’re silent, continuing to blow on your nails even once they’re dry just for something to do. You watch after May’s form when she leaves to get changed before looking at Heather again. “I just liked talking to him, I guess.”

Heather laughs, giving your arm a soft, comforting touch. “When are you going to see him again?” At your unsure shrug, she rolls her eyes. “You have to talk to him soon!”

“I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

Heather's face breaks into a sly little smile. “Oh, Eddie!” She cries, voice comically breathy, clasping her hands together by her cheek. “You’re the man I have been waiting for my whole life! Take me no-OW!”

You bash her with a cushion with as much force as you’re willing to put behind hitting Heather. She falls back, giggling away while you clench your hands around the fabric of the pillow, preparing to strike again if she keeps going. “Okay, so that’s a no,” she says, considering. “Maybe you could ask to buy something from him yourself."

“But I’ve never done anything like that,”

“That’s not an issue. Just ask him to teach you,” she answers confidently, moving to do her mascara at her vanity. “Guys like that.”

“Guys like teaching girls how to smoke?”

She smiles at you through the mirror. “Guys like teaching girls anything.”

On Monday, May barely wants to talk at all, still miserable from Friday night. You'd spent the weekend at hers, visited periodically by Heather, stroking her hair and plying her with ice cream and fresh baked cookies. At lunch, she leans her head on your shoulder while she plays with cafeteria pasta.

“Listen, it’s his loss,” you remind her, having moved past soft hushing and placation to accusations about Liam's mental fortitude. “You looked amazing on Friday. He must be blind or insane.”

“What kind of guy takes drugs you bought and leaves with them, anyway?” Courtney says from the other end of the table, having heard the story through the grapevine, apparently. It strikes the wrong nerve, leading to May burying her face in her hands as the tears start to flow again. You and Heather spring into action, comforting her as the three of you walk to the bathroom.

Together, you chorus the things she needs to hear right now.

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but he is totally not on your level.”

“100 percent! Did you see that girl he was with? Clearly he likes them easy.”

“Easy and ugly,” May agrees, sniffling. “So it was never going to work.”

“Exactly,” you nod, smiling to see her rubbing her drying eyes. She wraps her arms around you then, letting you give her a comforting squeeze.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “You guys are the best friends in the world.” She sighs deeply, fanning her face to stop any more tears. “God, look at me. My make up is ruined.”

“We have plenty of time to fix it.”

“I’ll go get your bag, okay?” You say, heart warm at her soft thank you.

As you’re leaving the cafeteria, May’s bag slung over your shoulder, you catch sight of Eddie, his head thrown back in laughter while he walks with his friend. His nose is scrunched and you have butterflies.

“Hi, Eddie,”

Eddie looks happy to see you, if surprised at the greeting. He gives a quick wave to Gareth. “Tell everyone I’ll be right there.”

Coming towards you, Eddie stops close enough that you find yourself tilting your head back to keep eye contact. His hair moves around his face when he leans forward, lips pink and wet from the little lick he gives them before speaking.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you say again, having to restrain a nervous laugh, clenching your toes in your shoes. “Um,” you glance down the empty hall before you look back up at him again. “Can I buy from you? I have my own money this time.”

“Uh, sure,” Eddie answers, blinking slow, eyebrows together. “Wasn’t expecting that, though. You got a taste for it from what I sold your friend?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“Okay. I have a Hellfire thing just now,” he says, pointing down the hall in the direction Gareth went with his thumb. “But I can meet you at the end of the day.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I have to go to the bathroom, anyway,” you say, before catching yourself. “Not like, go to the bathroom, but I have to meet May. Not that we- I don’t hang out in the bathroom.” Eddie’s smile is unwavering. “She’s in there because there’s a boy she likes and I’m bringing her this.” You lift the shoulder her bag hangs from, going back over your words. “The boy she likes is a dick.”

“You don't ever have to explain yourself to me, sweetheart. Meet you at the same place?” You’re still going over everything you said in your head, but you nod anyway. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

“Okay. Bye, Eddie.”

His eyes jump quickly down your body and back up to your face before he turns to walk confidently down the hall, leaving you warm all over.

You compose yourself before returning to the bathroom where Heather and a newly barefaced May are waiting for you. “Will you do my eyeshadow?” She asks sweetly. “Blue, like you did Chrissy’s last week?”

“What took you?” Heather asks once you have the palette in one hand, brushing shades of blue along May’s eyelids with the other.

You glance at her, wondering if May’s in the right mood to hear the truth. "Andy stopped me in the hall to ask about Ms Fredrickson’s homework.”

“Andy’s totally still into you,” May says, eyelids flickering. “He was so excited to charge in and save you from the freak last week. Wanted to show off to you.”

You pause your work on her eyes, stomach twisting uncomfortably. “I’m sure that’s not true,”

“It is.” She opens her eyes, fixing you with an amused look. “The second I said you were out there with Munson, it was like a whirlwind. He was just desperate to save such a sweet girl." Her mocking pout gives way to a smirk when she closes her eyes again. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him about your little creep crush.”

You stare at her for a second. Then, gently touching her chin to keep her face steady, you blend the colour over her lids.

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

Eddie’s waiting for you this time, sitting up on the table again with his lunchbox by his side. His jacket is gone, leaving him in a t-shirt that you just know is warm from his skin and the Summer heat. The shirt is graphic, with the name of a band you don’t know, a picture of a demon standing over a mountain, and what looks like a priest tied in chains, splashing about in water. How Eddie manages to look so friendly in such a shirt defies science. The way he’s sitting, the way he’s smiling, you want to climb up into his lap for a cuddle.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you say, desperately close to a giggle you know would be the most manic, girly sound ever made if you didn’t bite down on the inside of your lip.

That’s where Eddie’s eyes are, just for a second, before he’s looking at the box to his side. “You, uh, want a half ounce?”

You hum the affirmative, taking your bag off to dig through and find your little beaded purse. He spies the $20 in your hand and scoffs.

“I said fifteen for you, sweetheart,”

You’re leaving dents in the gum behind your lip with your teeth. “It’s not my fault if you don’t carry change.”

His lips purse in a smile at the tease, his dimples making an appearance just to send you into a tizzy, you’re sure. Eddie’s tucking the money away when he asks, “you got rolling papers and everything?”

“Oh, uh.” Yes, just say yes. “No, can I get those, too?”

Eddie blinks, expression shifting to confusion. “You didn’t know you needed those?”

Special papers? No you did not. “I did. But I, I forgot.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder like he’s looking for someone then he tilts his head at you. “Hey, uh, is something happening here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm? Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one of your friends sent you out here again.” Your mind jumps to Heather, wondering if he might work out you had lied, just to talk to him. He reads something into your expression, because suddenly there’s a hurt in Eddie’s eyes you weren’t expecting; a panic. “They get a kick out of the freak giving you a discount for batting your eyelashes, is that it?”

“What? Of course not.” You’re shaking your head desperately, but Eddie’s already muttering angrily.

“Jesus, Munson. Learn your fucking lesson.” He starts gathering his things, glancing up for a second looking like he wants to say something to you. Eddie shakes his head. “Fuck this, man.”

He’s going to leave. He’s going to leave, angry at you for something you’re still trying to work out. You want to tell him to stay, let you explain everything from start to finish, but the words catch in your throat.

There’s alarms in your heart, ringing out a warning that you need to do something. When the thought strikes that Eddie’s sitting at just the right height for you to run up and kiss him, that’s the only action that makes any sense.

Your body moves for you. Eddie’s watching you rush towards him, and then he’s gone. He’s hidden by your eyelids as you press your lips to his, hands moving to hold his shoulders like you could physically stop him from walking away from you.

His lips are pillowy soft in your chaste kiss.

You look at his pretty, expressive face. He’s closed his eyes, too, even though it only lasted a second, and then he’s blinking at you and waiting. Your fingers twist shyly into his shirt the way you normally find yourself doing with your own clothes. His soft hair tickles your wrists.

“Eddie,” you whisper. Your throat hurts. Your body’s trying to stop you from getting the words out, from risking embarrassment. “Eddie, I-” You swallow, bringing a foot up behind your calf and running the toe of your shoe up and down the skin of your leg.

“Tell me,” he says. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

There’s tears pricking your eyes. You have to stare at the dark curls on his forehead to get it out. “I have a crush on you.”

“Yeah? You have a crush on me?” You nod. Eddie squeezes your waist, laughing. “Well, shit, if I don’t have quite the crush on you, sweetheart.”

You finally look into his eyes, mouth open. “No.”

“Fuck yeah,” he nods in earnest. Then he looks sheepish, closing one eye tight. “I kinda thought that you knew that, for a second there. Or that your friends had worked it out.”

The tone of his last sentence goes right over your fuzzy head. “I didn’t know.”

“For a while, now,” he admits, cheeks pink. “Couldn’t believe my luck when you were sitting out here last week, and then when you came up to me today.” Eddie grins. “So, the plan was to keep buying weed you weren’t gonna use?”

“I was gonna use it,”

“Without papers? Gonna tell me you hide a sparkly pink bong under your bed or something?”

“No, was gonna ask you to teach me.”

Eddie’s pleased grin makes you feel weak in the knees, warms the space between your legs in the way that looking at him often does. “Is that so?” Your little nod has his hands digging more into your waist, pulling your body right between his open legs. “You were gonna come to me one day, give me that sweet smile, and ask me, please, Eddie, will you teach me to smoke? Mm?”

It’s a strange kind of embarrassment. Not like standing in front of the class, or realising with a snap you’ve said the wrong thing at lunch. You like this, feeling caught out by Eddie in this way. It’s making you feel giddy, excitement building wet and hot.

Eddie’s hands stroke your waist, soothing even as he’s winding you up. “Tell me.”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“And then what? Come up, here, baby.” Eddie’s hands hook around the back of your thighs, skin finally on yours as he helps you sit up on the table over him, the wood digging into the front of your knees. “What was gonna happen? After I’d taught you to smoke?”

His hands are running up and down your legs, fingers just teasing the skin still hidden under your skirt before he’s drifting away back towards your knees.

“Was it something like this?” Eddie presses kisses to your cheek and down your jaw, breathing heavy through his nose when you tilt your head for him. The thumb of his right hand ventures further, brushing against the frilled edge of your cotton panties. “Hm? Thought I might touch you, after?”

The questions have your mind batting back and forth from whatever it is he’s asking to how much you want him to just take.

“Thought I’d take advantage of a pretty girl like you, sweetheart? Get you high in the back of my van and open these legs up when I had you all dizzy and giggling?”

He snaps the elastic of your panties on your leg and you bear down on him, trying to trap his hand where you want it but he’s back to stroking the soft skin of your inner thigh. You close your eyes to hold in the tears that are building up again.

“Tell me,”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, Eddie! Just wanted-” You sniffle a little, seeing him pull his lips from your neck to catch a glimpse of you starting to cry. “Just wanted to talk to you, wanted you to like me.”

“Oh, baby.” He kisses you soft for a second, then Eddie’s tongue is wet against your lips and you let him in without hesitation. He groans at the taste of you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you towards him and up a little. Your mouth is wet when he pulls away, and he whispers into your cheek. “Want you to pull those panties to the side for me.”

You whimper, moving a hand from his shoulder to reach under your skirt and hook a finger in the cotton, exposing your heated clit to the air. Eddie looks down between you, the hand that was on your thigh grasping the front of your skirt to pull it up and tuck it under your locked arm. “Jesus Christ,” he says, teeth gritted. “Jesus H. Christ!”

He sweeps the rough pad of his thumb over your swollen button and your body jolts. Eddie’s laugh rings in your ears as he keeps you steady over him with the arm on your waist. “Oh, she’s a little sensitive. Got it.” It doesn’t seem like he got it when he presses two fingers against your bud and rubs in tight circles, your hips shaking in an effort to both escape and get closer to the feeling. “So good, so good of you to open yourself up to me like this. How about a little more, yeah? Let Eddie see the rest of her?”

You mewl, bringing three fingers down to the elastic to pull more to the side. Immediately, Eddie slides his fingers down and around your leaking hole, dragging slick back up to ease his work against your throbbing clit. “Eddie!”

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s better.”

The hand that isn’t displaying your wet cunt for him wraps around the back of his neck, pulling his face to yours so you can kiss him again, let him breathe in the way you’re moaning for him. Eddie hums, moving the tips of his fingers back again, just his thumb remaining to give your button quick rubs. His middle finger circles your entrance and you clench down, breaking the kiss to gasp and whine.

His finger presses in to the first joint and then he’s looking at you with wide eyes. “Sweetheart,” he says, gently. “Has anybody ever touched you like this?”

You make a soft whining sound, shaking your head, because they haven’t, not like this.

“Do you-” His tongue sweeps over his lips nervously. “Do you want me to stop, or keep going?”

“Keep going,” you cry. “Keep going, Eddie, please. Eddie, Eddie-”

“Sh, sh, okay, okay.” The arm around your waist gives you a sweet squeeze like a hug. “Need you to relax a little, otherwise it won’t feel so good inside, mm?”

Relax? How can you relax when his thumb is still torturing the top of your sex? Eddie presses a soft kiss to your cheek where tears are running, then another under your eyes. “Just relax,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I’ll make it good. I promise.”

You sigh, feeling yourself melt into him, your face falling into his shoulder. The thick finger slides further in, filling up the space that wanted filled and leaving you clenching gently with excitement. “Fuuuck,” Eddie says, teeth gritted. “Nobody has ever treated this pussy the way she needs, huh? Oh, sweet girl, it’s a fucking travesty.”

You make a high noise of agreement at the back of your throat and Eddie breathes a laugh. He pulls his finger from you slowly, thumb still playing constantly with your bud, then presses back inside for you to feel the sweet drag against your walls. “Eddie,” your voice sounds like a mumble with your mouth pressed to his soft t-shirt. Eddie shakes his shoulder a little like he wants your attention, as if he isn’t the only thing you’re thinking about, could try to think about.

“Your pussy feels amazing inside,” he says. “Gonna need to stretch you good before we can even think about you taking my dick up there.”

You feel yourself squeezing tight around his finger, your hips rolling into him. Eddie’s talking, but you’re too far gone now and everything sounds like it’s underwater. The tone of his voice is clear, gentle but teasing, as are the slick sounds of his hand moving between your legs. With a jolt and a long cry into his shoulder, you’re coming around his fingers, pleasure travelling up and down your body in waves.

You’ve only ever cum by yourself, and never with anything inside. Something about clasping down on him adds to your orgasm, to the satisfaction you’re feeling as it crests and fades.

Your head lolls, rubbing your temple against Eddie’s soft hair. He gives your clit one last cheeky rub just to make your body jump.

You feel his elated laugh before you hear it. He pulls his fingers from your pussy and you hear Eddie groan, followed by the distinctive popping sound of something pulling from pursed lips. “Tastes like heaven. Jesus, sweetheart, you are something else.” He gives you another squeeze, helping your body settle on top of him, moving your hand that remained exposing yourself and tucking your panties back over your slit with a soft little pat.

“Look at me?”

You have to force your heavy head up to do as he says, and Eddie coos softly. “You’re so sweet, so good for me. You did so, so well, you hear me?”

Your heart flutters, and you tilt your chin for a kiss which Eddie gives without a thought. The taste of your own slick in your mouth is heady, drawing you slowly back to reality as the sights and sounds surrounding you return to focus.

A car door slams in the distance and you’re jumping, suddenly tense. You’re sitting in a boy’s lap, outdoors, where anybody could come by. You let him touch you, let him make you cry out into the fresh air.

Eddie feels the afterglow dimming rapidly, and allows you to climb off him, watching the nerves creep into your body language. “You okay?”

“Yes, I-” Your toes curl, feeling embarrassed that you don’t know how to deal with this, either what you’re supposed to say after being touched you like that, or how to tell him that you loved every second and it has your mind whirring because you’ve never been able to do that with somebody else before.

“Let me take you home, yeah?” Eddie says, sensing your thoughts moving a mile a minute, that there’s nothing he can do right now to get in and fix it for you like he’s realising he wants to.

He picks up his bag and the box he carries with him, then takes yours from the ground where you’d dropped it before running up to kiss him. Eddie debates holding your hand, but you take his on your own, giving him a gentle, thankful smile because, even with the nerves driving you silent, through the haze you see him being kind with you, even now.

He settles you into his van with your backpack at your feet, makes sure you’re belted up before closing the door for you and climbing up into the driver’s side. It smells like a thousand Eddie’s; smoke, weed, cheap aftershave, and boy. You’d giggle at that if you weren’t running over every detail of your last relationship, trying to work out exactly what must have happened to keep you from letting yourself be touched like that before.

Seven months. You dated Andy for seven months last year and you didn’t let him do anything close to what Eddie did to you on a picnic table in the forest. Not for lack of trying on your part, and certainly not Andy’s.

You had liked Andy, up to a point. He took you on nice dates, and would compliment your outfits. He was a good kisser, and the way he looked at you when you were lying in his bed made you feel pretty. But the second his hands drifted anywhere more salacious than over your bra, your whole body would shut down. The one time you’d gritted your teeth and let him pull your panties off, his fingers inside you had hurt from how tense you were and he’d given up within thirty seconds. The time he’d suggested you touch him with your hands, or even get down on your knees, the bubbling tears in your eyes as you’d told him, if you want, had him groaning in frustration and slapping your hand away from his boxers. Every time you slept over at Andy’s house, you’d end up bent over with him rubbing himself against your ass through layers of cotton elastane.

After, you’d feel uncomfortable in your skin, wanting him to hold you. Generally, exhausted from the mental game he had to play with you to let him grind against you, he would fall back to his bed and pass out about twenty seconds after he came. The uneasy feeling would last into the next day, sometimes longer.

You search for that feeling now, and find just the remnants of flushed pleasure, the memory of Eddie’s breath on your temple and his voice calling you sweet and good. There’s a little guilt, but only because of how you ended it, realising only now that you hadn’t done anything at all for him. That is one of the things you do know about boys, they come first in these scenarios.

“Have I ruined everything?” You ask when he’s pulled up to your house, ready to make a quick getaway if need be.

“What?” His eyes are wide. “Jesus, no,” Eddie grabs your hand, settling the shake there. “I was gonna ask you if I had. I shouldn’t’ve taken it that far, I just, I could hardly- can hardly believe this is happening. You, sitting in my lap, letting me touch you? That’s a dream I’ve had a hundred times, sweetheart.” He squeezes your palm. “I really think about you a lot, you know?”

You do know.

“Can I take you out Friday?” He ventures, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “No funny business, I promise.”

Your thighs press together, the rough pad of his thumb against your skin reminding you how nice those calluses felt playing between your legs. “I think,” you look from your joined hands to him. “I think a little funny business would be okay.”

Eddie’s clearly pleased by that, his shoulders relaxing even as he holds his remaining hand out dramatically and turns his head to the side. “Nope! No funny business at all. You’ll see, they’ll be calling me Eddie the Chivalrous by Saturday.” His face gets softly serious. “I’m gonna do it right with you, sweetheart.”

Butterflies erupt, and you just wish he’d kiss you then. You give him one last look, hoping he will, a little sad when he just smiles. You squeeze his hand before letting go. “Bye, Eddie.”

You jump out of his van and close the door gently. You’re in the middle of wondering if either of your parents are home, what they might have seen through the window, when you hear the van opening. Turning, you find Eddie jogging your way, his hair a dark cloud flying around his face. “I know I just said no funny business,” he breathes. “But I gotta get one more kiss. Just to keep me going, you know. Then I can be Eddie the Chivalrous for at least the rest of the week.”

“Kisses- kisses can be chivalrous.”

“Oh, thank God.” Eddie kisses you through your giggle, hands covering your cheeks. You whine a little at the warmth of his tongue and he separates from you. “Okay, that’s enough, Munson.” Another sweet press, then one more lasting barely a second. “Okay, I’m going now. Friday?”

You nod rapidly.

“Okay,” he says again, letting you go. You watch him jog back to his van and climb in, looking like his head is just as fuzzy as yours. Eddie Munson gives you one last grin before pulling away, his van disappearing down your suburban street.

Next Chapter

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #my stuff #tmyg

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cameronspecial · 5 months

Text

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 8)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Drinking, Driving While Impaired and Overdose.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: An argument with Wards sends Rafe to the hospital and this brings Y/N to a sudden realization.

A/N: This does deal with a serious subject matter and if you are suffering from an addiction, please know that you are not alone and that there are many ways that you can seek help. If I got anything wrong or forgot a warning, please let me know.

Masterlist

Rafe wakes up the next morning with the worst hangover of his life and he groans at the realization of what happened last night. He carefully makes his way to his bathroom to freshen up. The sound of him moving the debris around with his foot is the only thing that can be heard in his room. After finishing up in the bathroom, he decides to get something to eat and drink to hopefully help cure his hangover. However, the mention of his name coming from his dad’s office stops him in his tracks.

“I can’t believe you would say those things to Rafe, Ward. You know that wasn’t true,” Rose criticizes her husband with a disapproving look. Ward rounds the corner of his desk, sitting on the edge and bringing her between his legs, “I did what I had to do Rose. With her back in town, Rafe needs to be reminded of where he belongs and I will keep reminding him of where he is needed. Just like I did when he was applying for university.” Rafe’s eyebrows knit in confusion. Rose lets out a sigh.

“Did you really have to do that? I think he really did want to go to the UK.”

“No, he only wanted to be there because that’s where she was going. If I hadn’t deleted his acceptance emails and sent him fake rejection letters, he would’ve followed her across the world to only realize he made a mistake.”

Ward’s confession causes Rafe to see red. He opens the partially closed door and barges into the room, “You had no right to do that! I wanted the choice to choose and I would’ve chosen England even if Y/N wasn’t going because it would get me away from you.” Ward’s shocked look on his face indicates he wasn’t planning on Rafe what he had done. “No, you wouldn’t have, Rafe. You never talked about that possibility before you started dating Y/N.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you never gave me a choice? You had my life planned for me without giving me a chance to think about what I wanted. When I started dating Y/N, she made me realize that travelling abroad was an option that I never considered but found interesting. You know, if you had given me the chance, my plan was to go to England to make some foreign connections to, maybe, expand the business there. But, no, you don’t think I was smart enough to think of anything intelligent for the company.”

At the end of his rant, Rafe just shakes his head and leaves the room. He takes his keys out of his pocket with the plans of heading to Barry’s.

——

Rafe enters the trailer without knocking, earning a surprise look from the resident of the house. “Country club, you can’t just barge in like that. What if I had a lady over?” Barry complains, getting up from his couch. Rafe ignores him, rifling through Barry’s stuff, “Where’s your coke? I need more.” Barry just gives him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, country club. I’m afraid I’m fresh out.”

“No, you’re not. I see powder under your nose. You wouldn’t finish all of your stash.”

“Okay, you caught my lie. But I’m cutting you off. You’re good for business, but as your ‘friend’, I am worried about you.”

“Worried about me, my ass. If you aren’t going to give it to me, then I’ll just go to someone else. I’m tired of people thinking they know what’s best for me.”

——

Rafe has been going from party to party looking for someone who would give him the drugs he needed, but he couldn’t find a single dealer anywhere. The lack of drugs didn’t stop him from drinking any alcohol he found. It was only at the last party late into the night that he found someone. “You got coke?” Rafe questions in more of an authoritative tone than an inquisitive one. The tall blonde looks over at him, “You got cash?” He pulls out a thousand, not caring if he is overpaying, all he cares about is the substance that will make him forget the pain. She doesn’t say a thing as he hands it over and gives him several small baggies of white powder.

He exits the party, hopping into his car. Rafe forms the lines of the powder into several rows on the dashboard. He begins to snort his normal amount of cocaine. As he finishes the final line, he shifts the car out of the park and heads over to the beach. The hour-long drive to his normal beach from the Cut side of the island is worth the quiet sounds of the waves. Rafe sits by himself on the sand and that is when he starts to notice how suddenly feels colder than the warmer summer night should be making him. His hands are clammy for some unknown reason. The next thing he notices is the manner in which his body begins to feel a little limp. He lifts his hand and it falls down as if he has no bones. Finally, his slow breathing is the last thing to catch his attention before his eyelids close to bring him to sleep.

——

Mason has been driving around the whole of the island trying to pin Rafe down. Find My Friend had been left on for both of them and when Wheezie called informing Mason of the argument she overheard, he hopped in his car and began his chase. Rafe never stayed in one place for too long, so seeing him stay at the beach for longer than thirty minutes, Mason feels like his prayers were answered. The first thing Mason sees as he checks Rafe’s car is the residue from the drug on the dashboard. Worry floods his system, realizing that Rafe has been driving while intoxicated.

Mason runs to the beach and his whole body is filled with apprehension upon witnessing Rafe’s lying on the beach. He runs towards Rafe, pulling out his phone to call 911. After informing the dispatcher of where he is and what happened, he checks for breath that is not there and begins CPR. Once Rafe starts breathing again, Mason lays Rafe on his side to protect him from choking on his vomit. Hearing the siren from the paramedics helps relieve some of Mason's stress.

——

When Y/N got the call early in the morning, she didn’t care what state she was in, she took her mom’s car and sped to the hospital. Her normally cautious driving style is thrown out the window as she speeds through yellow lights and stop signs. She hastily parks the car and runs to the hospital room number Mason told her. Seeing Rafe in the hospital bed almost brings Y/N to her knees. Instead, she buries her head into her brother’s chest and lets her emotions release itself. After a few minutes of crying in Mason’s hug, she looks up at him. “How is he?” she whispers, casting a glance at the sleeping figure.

“He’s stable. Doc says he should make a full recovery. She thinks the coke he snorted was laced with fentanyl.”

“Are you okay? It must have been hard to see him like that.”

Now, it is Mason’s turn to unleash his emotions. He leans forward and places his head into the crook of her neck. She feels his tears leak onto her skin. “He wasn’t breathing. His lips were turning blue. I thought we were going to lose him,” he cries to her.

“I know, I know. I wish I could’ve been there for you.”

“I don’t. I don’t want you to ever have to see him like that. It would break you.”

“You’re right. I just wish someone was there with you. Has his family seen him yet?”

“They have, but they are in the cafeteria for some breakfast while he is asleep.”

“Right, makes sense. You should probably get something to eat too. I’ll stay with him. I promise.”

Mason nods his head and places a gentle kiss on her forehead before he goes to eat. Y/N sits down on the chair beside the bed, taking his hand into hers and resting her head against his thigh. She lets herself release a few more tears she has been keeping in because of the thought of losing him. She lifts her head up, placing a kiss on the back of his hand. “I really wish you would have talked to someone about how you’ve been feeling instead of turning towards drugs. If you would’ve come to me, I wouldn’t have turned you away. I would’ve tried to help you. I promise,” she whispers to him. “If you want me, I promise that I’ll help you get sober because I can’t see you like this again.” She takes her phone out to cancel her flight. There is no way she is going to leave with him in the position he is in. Y/N doesn’t remember falling asleep with her head on his bed.

Rafe groggily wakes up without an understanding of where he is or what happened, but when he sees Y/N, relief spreads over him and he places his hand softly on top of her head. He runs his fingers through her hair. He can’t believe she is here for him. He doesn’t remember why he is here, yet he is thankful that she is. He can’t stop the pull of sleep calling him back.

——

The entrance of a nurse wakes Y/N from her slumber. “Hi, sweetie. I’m just here to give back his personal belongings,” the older lady informs her, handing Y/N the large Ziploc bag of Rafe’s possessions. The nurse leaves the room and Y/N takes the time to open the bag. She finds the normal things, like his wallet, his keys, the clothes he was wearing and his phone, but one thing sticks out to her. A gold chain with a circular pendant hanging from it. She takes the necklace into her hand and flips over the charm to see a familiar-looking rose imprinted on it. She can’t believe he actually kept the necklace she gave him. He must have been wearing it if it was in the bag with his stuff. How long has he kept it with him, she wonders. A feeling of warmth spreads through her body.

This whole time she thought that he hated her, that any love he had for her went out the window when she broke his heart in his dorm room five years ago. Sure everyone keeps telling her that she is the only person he could ever love, but she didn’t exactly believe them because of how he treated her. However, seeing this symbol of their relationship changes everything for her. If he held onto this, then a small part of him must have been holding onto her. This causes her to feel strange in some way she can’t understand. Hope she didn’t know she was holding onto her flourishes through her. She doesn’t know what this means for them, but she does know what she needs to do.

Y/N gets up from her seat, placing a kiss on his cheek. “We are going to figure this out, Cameron. I know we can,” she mumbles against his cheek. She places the necklace around her neck and brings the pendant up to her lips.

——

Cole opens the door with a smile on his face that drops once he sees the serious look on her face. “Is everything alright?” he asks, moving out of the way so that she can enter the hotel room. She just looks at him with a sad look. “Rafe is in the hospital. He overdosed,” she croaks out, letting herself be wrapped into his hug. He kisses her forehead.

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Yes, but not in the way that you expect. Cole, I’m sorry to say this but I think we should take a pause on our relationship. I’m not asking for a break-up, but I just need some time to figure things out at the moment. This might be strange to you, but I need to help him recover. I know he is going to need me.”

“No, I understand. You and Rafe have a special connection and I know how important that will be in helping him get sober. Take all the time you need. Come back to me when you are ready. I’ll be waiting.”

Y/N looks up at him with wonder in her eyes, “I don’t deserve how understanding you are. Thank you. I promise that I’ll come back once I have him settled.” She knows what she said isn’t technically a lie, but a small part of her thinks it might not be the entire truth.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc @magicwithaknife @loves0phelia @jiarapamuk @blisslove @baby19sthings @thelomlisrafecameron

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italiansteebie · 11 months

Text

Love on Screen

Welcome to my Streamer au :-) Episode One, also on ao3 (Preferred format)

Steve sighed as he opened his laptop, clicking on the ‘Youtube’ icon and pulling up his channel. He likes his job, really he does. But so many people do the same thing that he’s honestly running out of ideas. Luckily, his subscribers seem to enjoy the weird ass shit he’s been putting out lately. In the last one, he’d made a bed out of cheese for his cat, the only issue was, was that she wanted to eat it, and if you don’t know, cat’s are lactose intolerant, so what started as a stupid video turned into him vlogging how to clean cat diarrhea of a carpet.

His subscribers thought it was hilarious, paying no mind to his discomfort, moreso worrying about piggy, his cat, and how her tummy was doing. She’s fine. Just a little dramatic. So with a lack of ideas, he goes lives. “Hey. How’s it going, chat? Look, I really need some new ideas because honestly, I’m bombing here.” And like always the chat blew up with responses, ‘call robin!’ and Steve snorted, “call Robin? Fine?” He picked up his phone, tapping Robin’s contact and waiting for it to ring.

“What?”

“That’s real nice, Rob. What a way to answer your best friend.”

“You aren’t my best friend, Nancy is.”

Steve scoffs, “Whatever, say hi to chat!”

“Seriously? This is the content y’all like? God, give him good ones, like getting a life.”

“I have a life, okay? Just because I don’t-”

“Your life consists of bugging me and Nancy, now get off live and think of some real idea’s, Steve!” Her tone was accusatory and Steve didn’t have a chance to answer before she hung up on him. He sighed, looking into the webcam, “Well. You heard her. I’ll talk to you guys later. Bye chat!” He ended the live and shut his laptop with a huff. He pondered for a moment, before deciding to scroll, what better way to come up with ideas than to scan and see what’s trending, right?

He knows it’s a lazy tactic but, hey. He’s been doing this for years, there’s only so many ideas a brain could hatch. Maybe he could play a new game? Nah, he’s played all the good ones. Maybe he could play a really bad one just for giggles, maybe that’d be fun? It’s not fair! Robin and Nancy use their lives as content! Steve’s life was boring! Maybe it was worth a try, and so, a dumb little morning vlog was in the works.

And okay, so it turns out maybe his subscribers are somewhat interested in his life. How was he supposed to know? He wakes up, answers emails, makes breakfast, works out, and that’s it! It wasn’t anything special. He felt… Boring.

And yeah, the video did well but he still felt like he fell flat. He was supposed to be funny! So in his fit of doubt, he decides to scroll a little bit. (A bit of mindless scrolling didn't hurt anyone, right?) Wrong, Steve. It hurt a lot of people. But either way, in his attempt to bury his feelings he came across a video titled “Freak Rage Quits and Then Cries,” and Steve was a little apprehensive. He doesn’t really do the bullying, mean girl content, well, at least not like he used to. (He was a different person then). But he clicked on it anyways, and holy shit. He was funny. And really hot.

And soon enough, Steve fell down a rabbit hole. He couldn’t get enough of this guy, he was cute, and charming, and somehow chaotic in a way that made Steve weak in the knees. (And look, the liking guys thing was relatively new, but the whole ‘attracted to chaos thing’ came out of left field). Well, if he’s being honest, it really didn’t. When he thought he had a crush on Robin it was her chaotic energy that really got to him, which was surprising seeing as his ex before her was very much the opposite. But as it turns out, chaos is like this guys whole brand. Eddie. That’s his name by the way, goes by corrodededdie on twitch, which honestly, fit him perfectly,

Steve didn’t get the guys subscribing count at first, over 1.5 million (which is almost as many as Steve), but he gets it now. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him fall in love, over video. It was a bit ridiculous, really. Luckily for him, corrodededdie struck the inspiration bucket and Steve fell asleep with some new concepts floating around in his head. And yeah, maybe they were a bit more chaotic than what he usually did but… Oh well. Blame it on his new muse.

—

Eddie grinned as he waved goodbye to the stream, he’d just finished a 12 hour long long haul that he did on a dare because some troll in the chat said he wouldn’t be able to do it. And well, Eddie runs off spite, so of course he made sure to do it, and do it right.

So here he was, 12 hours later, absolutely exhausted. He’d started the stream at a nice time of 6pm. That meant he’d have to stay streaming and making actual content, not just farting around on his phone, for 12 hours. It seemed easy enough.

It wasn’t.

Right around the eight hour mark he started to get pretty restless. He’d already played all the games he had within his reach like, twice, and he was honestly really sick of talking about himself, so he made the courageous decision to ask the chat for suggestions on what he should do. (That was especially dangerous since at the time he was doing it, which was 2 am, was the time his especially creepy subscribers like to join and torment him by suggesting really gross stuff. And not like eating dog food gross). But luckily someone in the chat, named ‘dustybun04’ came through for him, suggesting a channel by the title of ‘Steve goes to Hell’ and well. Needless to say, it wasn’t what Eddie was expecting with a name like that.

It was mainly this guy doing different hair techniques and making weird shit for his cat. He has to be honest, ‘dustybun04’ really disappointed him. He was under the complete impression that this guy was going to be some metal badass that played COD and killed zombies. But… It wasn’t. “Oh come on, dustybun. This guy?” And the chat lit up.

Dustybun04: watch the one where he makes a chees bed for his cat it made me laugh so hard i threw up.

And that caught Eddie’s attention. So there he was, at 2 am, pseudo stalking this guys channel looking for a very specific video. And he makes sure he’s mic'd up so that the stream could catch his candid reaction. “Mr. Piggyyyy, look at what mommy made you,” and Eddie had to pause the video. The guy called himself ‘Mommy’? Oh god, who was this guy? He snorts, looking at the camera like he’s on ‘The Office’ before turning the video back on. And as much as he hates to admit it, he was crying with laughter by the end of the video.

And so the 12 hour long stream turned into him doing a deepdive review on ‘Steve goes to Hell.’ And he wasn’t disappointed. He could tell that his viewers were ready to move on to something else, but Eddie couldn’t help it. He was just… Enamored with the guy. Eventually though, around the 11 hour mark, Steve ran out of content for Eddie to watch. So he reluctantly decided to bother his best, dear, friend, Nancy. She ran a channel with her girlfriend and they were so disgustingly cute that it almost made Eddie want to barf. He picked up his phone and dialed Nancy, waiting with a mischievous smile on his face. “Eddie? It’s… 5 am, why are you calling me?”

“Say hi to chat!” He cheered, far too loud and excited for the early hour.

“Ugh, Eddie. You’re the worst.”

“You love me, Wheeler.”

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Oh shit. Did he wake up Robin? “It’s just Eddie baby, go back to sleep. You woke up Robin you fucking asshole. I’m going to kill you the next time I see you.” Yep.

She hung up on him with a huff, “Isn’t she a charmer, folks? Okay…. Let’s see.” Eddie muttered to himself, scrolling mindlessly, looking for something to get him through the last 30 minutes. “Okay… Thirty minute stretch guys. What should we do?” And then it happened. ‘Steve goes to Hell has uploaded a new video.’ “Awh, shit guys. Steve goes to Hell has another video,” He dragged out the ‘o’ far too excited for a channel he just found of a guy he knows virtually nothing about. “Wake up with me? Ew. God, he’s so cheesy. Let’s watch” And it turns out it was actually pretty cute.

And yup. There it is. Eddie has a new crush on a guy. A guy who happens to look super hot when he wakes up and by definition out of Eddie’s league. He sits and watches silently, enraptured with the way this guy lives his life, waking up so god damned early. As the video comes to an end, so does the 12 hour stream. “Well, shit guys. We did it. Actually, I did it. You guys did nothing. Anyways. It’s been fun. wheeliemike, suck my dick, and fuck you for saying I couldn’t do this. Alright. Thanks for chilling with me!”

And that brings us up to speed. Eddie slumped back into his gaming chair, breathing out deeply. “Shit. I am never doing that again.” He slid out of his chair and trudged over to his bed, flopping down onto it and groaning loudly. He was just about to succumb to the sweet release of sleep when his phone chimed. ‘Steve goes to hell just subscribed to your channel.’ And oh fuck. Oh fuck, was he watching? Shit. Well. His heart was beating too fast to go to sleep now, may as well instagram stalk the guy. Like all normal people do when they develop a new crush.

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whoslai · 1 year

Text

Off The Menu - Lee Heeseung (Chapter 2)

genre: angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, eventual smut!! (you’re responsible for what you consume, read at your own risk)

warnings: lowkey suggestive texts, heeseung is sooooo into y/n (trust me), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), breast play??, oral ( fem receiving), sad goodbyes :(((

send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged! thank you to all my new followers, you guys are amazing for supporting me. please interact and give me as much feedback as you’d like (don’t be an ass tho, no need to spread negativity.

not proof read, sorry for any typos in advance.

word count: 5.4k

link to series masterlist or whatever

next chapter

Chapter 2: “Oh my God.”

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As quickly as you had read his text, you placed your phone down; Oh my God, he was flirting with you. Maybe the attraction had been reciprocated. How could you be so oblivious to the multitude of hints he had been throwing at you all night? Calling you smart? Beautiful? Jesus. Ningning was right.

However, you plugged your phone up and turned the screen face down. You didn’t want to continue the conversation until after you woke up as you were unsure of how to respond. Hmm, I’m intrigued. How shall I find out? You replayed his text over and over in your mind. Why’d you flirt with his ass? He was bold, you weren’t. Anywho, you spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, your mind racing with thoughts of Heeseung. You couldn't believe how much he had managed to charm you in such a short amount of time, but you were thrilled at the prospect of getting to know him better.

But at the same time, you were also filled with self-doubt and insecurity. You couldn't help but wonder if the waiter was really interested in you, or if he was just looking for a quick fling. You'd been hurt in the past, and your worst fear was getting hurt again.

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The next morning, you woke up feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. You knew you wanted to talk to Heeseung, but you were still unsure of how to respond to his flirtatious text. Finally, you decided to take a deep breath and replied to him, informing him that you had fallen asleep.

His lack of immediate response was expected, however of course, you could only hope that he wouldn’t hold it against you that you needed time to sleep on the entire situation. You noticed how early it was, seeing that Ningning was still fast asleep. You got up and showered, throwing on a top and some pants as you checked your phone to see if he had replied. To your relief, he had merely replied, “Gotchu, don’t worry about it. Maybe we can meet up sometime soon before you go back to school.”

You felt a sense of relief wash over you as you read Heeseung's message. You were glad that he wasn't upset with you for taking some time to respond, and you were excited at the prospect of seeing him again soon. You soon replied that you could meet for breakfast, to which he simply sent a location and “10 AM. Be there or be square.”

You checked the clock. You only had about an hour to get ready so you quickly stripped yourself of your casual clothing and put on a pair of jeans and a tee. Ningning poked her head up at you, staring through half lidded eyes, “What time is it?”

“Time for me…to go…meet Heeseung for breakfast.” You told her, awkwardly smiling.

“Who the fuck is Heeseung?” She laughed, rubbed her eyes.

“The waiter from last night. He texted me really late…” You explained.

“Oh?” She questioned, “What’d he say?”

You took your phone out and showed her. As she read it, a smile slowly crept on her face, “Can I say something inappropriate?”

Your eyes widened at her comment, but you slowly nodded, “Sure…go ahead.”

“He wants you so bad.” She giggled, pushing you away.

You rolled your eyes at Ningning's comment, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. You knew that she meant well, but sometimes her sense of humor could be a little off-color.

"Stop it, Ningning," you said, trying to keep a straight face. "He's a stranger.”

Ningning nodded, still grinning. "Sure, just a stranger who texts you in the middle of the night and wants to take you out to breakfast."

You couldn't help but smile at her teasing, feeling grateful for her lightheartedness. Despite the challenges you were facing in your life, it was moments like these that reminded you of the importance of friendship and laughter.

As you got ready to leave, Ningning gave you a hug. "Have fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

“Pff, that’s not saying much…” You said.

She scoffed, hitting your shoulder as you left the hotel room with her keys. You chuckled at Ningning's response, feeling grateful for her ability to make light of any situation. As you left the hotel room with her keys, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. Meeting up with a stranger for breakfast wasn't something you did every day, and you weren't sure what to expect.

As you made your way to the breakfast spot where the stranger had suggested you meet, you couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive. But as you arrived and saw him sitting at a booth in the corner, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. He stood up as you approached and gave you a smile.

“Well, well, well. We will meet again.” He joked, greeting you with a warm hug.

You smiled at his kind gesture, hugging him back. “Indeed we do.” You felt a sense of comfort in his embrace, grateful for his friendly gesture. As you pulled away from the hug, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him for taking the time to meet with you.

As you sat down at the booth and ordered breakfast, you found yourself feeling more at ease in his presence; He was easy to talk to, kind, all of the above. He was an amazing listener and genuinely might have been one of the funniest people you’d known. He effortlessly made you laugh.

You found yourself enjoying the conversation with him more and more as you talked over breakfast. He had a way of putting you at ease, making you feel like you could be yourself without any judgment. He listened attentively to everything you had to say and offered thoughtful insights and advice.

But what really stood out to you was his sense of humor. He had a way of making even the most mundane things seem funny and interesting. You found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time, feeling grateful for the lightheartedness and joy he brought to the conversation.

“Heeseung, can I ask you a personal question?” You asked, sipping your orange juice.

His eyebrows raised, “Uh oh, how personal are we getting?”

“Very personal.” You emphasized, smiling.

Heeseung's eyebrows raised even higher at your response, but he couldn't help but smile back at you. "Alright, shoot. I'm an open book."

You took a deep breath, feeling a little nervous about asking such a personal question. “Promise you won’t get offended.”

Heeseung's smile softened as he sensed your nervousness. "I promise I won't get offended," he said reassuringly. "You can ask me anything."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you at his words, grateful for his understanding and empathy. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before asking your question. “Do you normally take customers out to breakfast the morning after you meet them?”

Heeseung's smile faded slightly as he considered your question. "No, I don't usually take customers out to breakfast," his voice softened, “Is it wrong for me to want to get to know such a pretty girl as yourself?”

You couldn't help but feel flattered by Heeseung's comment. Despite your initial hesitation, you found yourself warming up to him and his easy going personality. You had to admit that you were intrigued by the idea of getting to know him better as a person, not just as a waiter.

"I don't think it's wrong at all," you said, smiling back at Heeseung. "In fact, I'm flattered that you want to get to know me better."

Heeseung's smile returned, and he seemed to relax. "That's great to hear," he said. You sighed, glancing down at your hands that rested in your lap. “Now, since you’ve asked me a question…can I ask you a question as well?” he asked.

"Of course," you said, returning his smile. "Ask me anything."

“Pinky promise you won’t run away once I ask.” he said, holding out his pinky.

You smiled at Heeseung's playful gesture and interlocked your pinky with his. "I pinky promise," you said, feeling a sense of lightheartedness.

Heeseung grinned at your response. "Alright, here's my question," he said, his voice teasing. “Are you single?”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at Heeseung's question, but at the same time, you found yourself drawn to him and his easygoing personality. You had to admit that you were interested in him, and you wondered if he felt the same way. "I am single, actually," you said, offering him a small smile. “Never had a boyfriend before, actually.”

“When you say never…do you mean that you’ve never dated seriously or have you really never dated…ever?” He asked, tilting his head to the side a bit.

You felt a little embarrassed by Heeseung's question, but you appreciated his curiosity and openness. "I've never really dated," you admitted, your voice soft. "I've always been focused on my work and my studies, so I haven't had a lot of time for relationships."

“Then that leads me to my next question.” He said.

“What would that be?” You asked.

Heeseung leaned forward slightly, his expression curious. You couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation as Heeseung leaned forward with a curious expression. You wondered what his next question would be.

“Are you considering this breakfast meetup a ‘date’?” He asked.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at Heeseung's question, and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way you did. "I hadn't really thought about it like that," you admitted, your voice soft. "But if you're asking if I'm interested in you...then yes, I am.”

He clicked his tongue, drinking the rest of his water, a mischievous glint in his eye as he said, “Do you know what I'm thinking?" he asked, his voice low and playful.

You shook your head, feeling a little shy and uncertain. "No, what are you thinking?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m thinking…that we should get out of here…and go somewhere else. Somewhere more fun.”

You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation at Heeseung's suggestion. While you were a little shy and uncertain, you found yourself drawn to his playful and flirty personality.

"That sounds like a great idea," you said, feeling a smile spread across your face. "Where do you have in mind?"

He leaned back, a small smile on his face as he said, “Oh, you know…maybe my place…anywhere.”

You couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue and excitement at Heeseung's suggestion. While you were a little shy and uncertain, you found yourself drawn to his playful and flirty personality.

"Your place, huh?" you said, a hint of playfulness in your voice. "Are you trying to seduce me, Heeseung?"

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to enjoy your banter. "Maybe," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "But seriously, how about we go for a drive up the coast? We can stop at some scenic overlooks and take in the views."

You felt a sense of happiness and anticipation at the thought of a romantic drive with Heeseung. "That sounds amazing," you said, smiling at him.

He nodded, taking his wallet out as he threw money down on the table and held his hand out. You held onto his hand, following him out of the restaurant.

As you walked out of the restaurant hand in hand with Heeseung, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for your upcoming drive. You felt a newfound connection with him, and the thought of spending more time together filled you with happiness. It was finally your turn to experience something with a boy after all these years. All this time of telling every man around you “no”, shying away from going on dates and so much more.

As Heeseung led you towards his car, you took a moment to take in his features. He was tall with a lean build, and his dark hair was styled in a trendy yet effortless way. You found yourself drawn to his easy confidence and playful personality, and you couldn't wait to see where the day would take you.

As Heeseung opened the car door for you and helped you get in, you felt a sense of appreciation towards him. He seemed to value your comfort and well-being, and you found yourself feeling even more attracted to him.

As he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, you felt a sense of adventure and excitement.

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As he drove, soft tunes emitted from his radio. He made small talk here and there about small things from places to visit in Malibu to asking you questions about your college life.

Once you two reached a nearby beach, he held the door open for you as you both got out. He offered to hold your shoes for you, to which you declined, preferring to keep your shoes on in the sand.

“You mustn't be from Cali if you’re genuinely going to wear your tennis shoes in the sand.” He said.

“You’re right, I’m not from Cali. I’m all the way from Virginia.” You said.

“West Virginia?” He asked. “Yes sir.” You told him, settling down beside him in the sand.

As you settled down beside Heeseung in the sand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and ease around him. Despite your initial nervousness, he had a way of putting you at ease and making you feel at home.

"So you're from Virginia, huh?" he said, his voice curious. "What brought you all the way out to California? Just school?"

You smiled at Heeseung, appreciating his interest in your background. "School was definitely part of it," you said, nodding your head. "But I was also looking for a change of scenery and a chance to explore new opportunities."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your perspective. "I get that," he said, his voice thoughtful. "California is definitely a place of opportunity and adventure, if you know where to look."

You laughed, feeling a sense of warmth towards Heeseung's positive outlook on life. "That's exactly what I was thinking," you said, smiling at him.

As you both sat in the sand, watching the waves crash against the shore, you felt a sense of connection and ease with Heeseung. Despite your different backgrounds and experiences, you shared a common sense of curiosity and adventure that drew you together.

“Thank you for buying me breakfast, by the way. It was really good, I had a lot of fun talking to you.” You told him.

Heeseung turned his head towards you, a soft smile on his face. "Of course," he said, his voice warm. "I had a great time too. It's not often I meet someone who's as adventurous and curious as you are."

You felt a sense of happiness and appreciation at Heeseung's compliment. "Thank you," you said, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "I guess I just like to explore and try new things."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your perspective. "I can definitely relate to that," he said. "Did I ever tell you that I studied music in college?

You felt a sense of surprise and curiosity at Heeseung's revelation. "No, you didn't," you said, your voice intrigued. "That's really interesting. What kind of music did you study?"

Heeseung smiled, seeming to enjoy your interest. "I studied contemporary guitar performance," he said. "It was a really intense program, but I learned a lot about discipline and hard work."

You felt a sense of admiration towards Heeseung's dedication and commitment to his craft. "That's really impressive," you said, smiling at him. "I can tell you're really passionate about music."

Heeseung nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Definitely," he said. "Music is my life. It's a way to express myself and connect with others in a meaningful way."

You nodded, feeling a sense of appreciation towards Heeseung's outlook on life. "That's really beautiful," you said. "I think it's amazing when people can find something they're truly passionate about and pursue it with all their heart."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to share in your enthusiasm. "I agree," he said. "I think it's important to follow your dreams and passions, no matter what anyone else says. Life is too short to not do what makes you happy."

“You have an amazing outlook on life. I wish I were more like you…” You told him, turning your attention to the waves.

“More like me?” he asked.

“Yeah…I feel like I’m so…dull and pessimistic. I’m always a future person rather than a present person. You know what I mean?” You told him.

"I don't think you're dull or pessimistic at all," he said, his voice reassuring. "In fact, I think you're one of the most interesting and curious people I've met."

You felt a sense of warmth and comfort at Heeseung's words. "Really?" you said.

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your uncertainty. "Definitely," he said. "I think it's great that you're always thinking about the future and striving to improve yourself. But at the same time, it's important to enjoy the present moment and appreciate the little things in life."

You nodded at his comment, “True…”

“Like now…I’m enjoying my time with you. I am taking in everything you say and relishing in the moment.” He told you.

“Oh…wow…um..” You trailed off, “That’s nice…”

He laughed at your words, “You’re so cute and awkward.”

You felt a sense of embarrassment and amusement at Heeseung's comment. "I'm not that awkward," you said, trying to sound indignant.

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to find your reaction amusing. "I think you're adorable," he said, his voice warm. "Your awkwardness is part of your charm."

“Shut up, Heeseung. Like actually, zip your mouth shut.” You sarcastically told him, pushing him away from you.

Heeseung laughed, seeming to enjoy your playful banter. "Hey, I'm just telling the truth," he said, his voice still warm. "You're cute when you're flustered."

"Fine, fine," you said, trying to sound annoyed. "I guess I'll just have to accept that I'm adorable."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to appreciate your good humor. "That's the spirit," he said. "Embrace your inner adorableness."

As the sun continued to set over the beach, casting a warm glow over the sand, you felt a sense of happiness and contentment settle over you. The warmth of Heeseung’s body bounced off of your skin, creating an energetic connection between the both of you.

You could feel his kindness, his easy-goingness, him. And he felt good. You didn’t want this feeling to end.

Watching the sunset and feeling the warmth of his presence, you felt a sense of peace and contentment settle over you. It was as if all the stresses and worries of everyday life had melted away, leaving you with nothing but the present moment and the person sitting beside you.

You turned to look at Heeseung, feeling a sense of appreciation and gratitude towards him. "Thank you for bringing me here," you said, your voice soft. "This is really beautiful."

Heeseung smiled, seeming to understand your sentiment. "I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice warm. "It's one of my favorite places to come and just relax."

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection and ease with Heeseung. There was something about him that made you feel more comfortable and at ease than you had with anyone else in a long time. It was a feeling you didn't want to let go of.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the beach into a soft orange glow, you felt a sense of both excitement and apprehension about what the future held.

You checked your phone, noticing that it was getting a bit late. You didn’t want to have to drive back to campus so late at night so you knew you’d have to leave soon.

Reluctantly, you said, “I’ve got to head back to the hotel. We only planned on staying for a night.”

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your situation. "I understand," he said, his voice warm. "I had a great time with you today. Thank you for spending time with me."

You smiled at him, feeling a sense of appreciation and warmth towards him. "Thank you for showing me this beautiful place," you said. "I had a great time too."

As you began to gather your things, you felt a sense of both excitement and sadness at the prospect of leaving. You had enjoyed your time with Heeseung so much that you didn't want it to end, but you knew that you had to return to your everyday life.

You two walked back to his car and began your journey back to the hotel.

“So you say you’ve neverrrrr had a boyfriend, yeah?” He asked, turning the music down.

“Never.” You told him. “Why are you so interested in my failed love life, Heeseung?” you teased, turning to look at him.

Heeseung chuckled, seeming to enjoy your playful banter. "I'm not interested in your failed love life," he said, his voice warm. "I'm interested in you.

"Well, I'm glad you're interested in me," you said, your voice laced with playfulness. "I think you're pretty interesting too."

Heeseung grinned, seeming to appreciate your flirtatious tone. "Oh really?" he said, his voice low and husky. "I have a feeling we could be pretty interesting together."

You felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the chemistry palpable. "I think you might be right," you said, your voice soft and seductive.

As you drove back to the hotel, the tension between you and Heeseung continued to build, the air charged with anticipation and desire. Of course, you hadn’t had the intention of doing anything with him…not this soon. But, there was a lot of “want” behind your feelings for him.

He pulled into the front of the hotel, putting his car into park, not saying anything. As the silence between you and Heeseung lingered, you couldn't help but feel the intensity of the attraction between the two of you. You had never felt this kind of desire before, and it both excited and scared you.

You turned to look at Heeseung, him doing the same. You noticed the way his eyes lingered on your lips; The desire was mutual, and it was clear that neither of you could ignore it any longer.

Without thinking, you leaned in towards him, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. Heeseung met you halfway, his lips meeting yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless.

In that moment, everything else melted away, and all that mattered was the two of you and your desire for each other. As the kiss deepened, you felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the passion building with every passing moment.

His hand slid up to rest against your cheek as he pulled your face closer to his own, lifting the arm rest up that separated the two of you. His lips dominated your own, leading to him taking over and guiding you through the kiss. You’d never EVER gone this far with a man before…but it all felt so right.

You felt a sense of surrender as Heeseung deepened the kiss, his touch igniting a fire within you that you had never felt before. As he pulled you even closer, you let yourself be consumed by the passion of the moment, giving yourself over to the desire that had been building between the two of you.

His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored your mouth with his tongue, teasing and tasting you with a hunger that matched your own. You had never felt so alive, so consumed by the desire for another person.

“Shit…” He huffed out, pulling his lips away. The only thing left connecting you both was a small string of saliva coming from your mouth. “I forgot we were parked in the front.”

Feeling overwhelmingly confident, you replied, “So then let’s go somewhere else.”

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, clearly taken aback by your boldness. But as he looked at you, he saw the desire and passion in your eyes and he knew that he couldn't resist.

"Okay," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Somewhere else it is."

Just as quickly as he had said that, he drove off. As you drove through the dark streets, you could feel the excitement and anticipation building within you, the desire for Heeseung overwhelming.

Finally, Heeseung pulled into a secluded spot and turned off the car, turning to look at you with a hunger that matched your own. As he leaned in to kiss you, you felt a sense of electricity pass between the two of you, the passion growing more and more strong.

He unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you closer to him as he settled you both in the back. You situated yourself on top of his lap as his hands gripped onto your waist.

His fingers hovered over your top, stopping as he looked up at you, “When you say you’ve never had a boyfriend….does that mean you’re a virgin?”

You felt a rush of heat spread through your body at Heeseung's question, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You had never been with a man before, and the thought of exploring your sexuality with Heeseung was both overwhelming and enticing.

"Y-yes," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am a virgin."

Heeseung nodded, seeming to understand your hesitation. "It's okay," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “Are you sure you want to do this? With me?”

You looked into Heeseung's eyes, seeing the genuine concern and care in them. You took a deep breath, feeling the nerves building within you, but also feeling a sense of trust in him.

"I'm sure," you said, your voice steady and firm. "I want to be with you.”

With that, Heeseung leaned in and kissed you again. The passion between you two was undeniable, and as you explored each other's bodies, you felt a sense of liberation and excitement wash over you.

He’d eventually stripped you of your clothing, laying you down on your back as he hovered over you.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes,” You told him, “I’m okay.”

You were drunk off of his kisses, feeling nothing very pure ecstasy as his eyes sparkled underneath the moonlight.

He kissed down from your lips to your collarbone, soon attaching his lips around one of your nipples, threading the other between his index and thumb.

He sucked around the surrounding area, sending sparks throughout your body. You bit your lip, attempting to contain the explicit noises that so desperately wanted to escape.

He kept at this for a while before his free hand slid down your stomach atop your panties. Your breath hitched as you felt his body heat radiating down onto your pussy.

“Oh shit, Heeseung…” You moaned as he removed his mouth from your breast and lifted your legs up and apart.

“Nervous?” He asked.

You nodded, “So nervous…”

“Don’t worry…I’ll take good care of you.” He whispered, slipping your panties to the side and pressing his thumb down against your clit.

“Oh!” You gasped, his thumb pressing down harder and harder to see how much you could take.

“Feels good?” He asked. You shyed away from answering him and looked down at your legs. “Y/N…”

You shook your head, covering your face as you noticed your confidence slowly diminishing.

His thumb withdrew from you and was replaced by his mouth. His tongue lapped up your sensitive flaps and you couldn’t help but let out a loud string of moans. His mouth felt so good against you, your fingers were nothing compared to how good he felt.

You took your arms down and ran your fingers through his hair, urging him to go faster as you could feel a knot growing in your lower belly.

He sucked on your clit, allowing spit to dribble out of his mouth onto you, adding more pleasure.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone on his tongue. He happily lapped your release up, licking his lips clean of your juices.

He looked up at you, and you looked down at him as you came down from your high.

“You look so pretty like this,” He said, slipping his shirt off, “All laid out. Just for me.”

Once his pants were off, you could see his print in his briefs. You should’ve known that he’d be big, how could a man like him be anything but big?

“I don’t have any condoms…” He said, caressing your thighs, “Sure you still wanna continue?”

“I’m sure.” You told him, allowing him to pull your panties completely off.

He did away with his briefs and you took him all in. He was big. He was perfect. He was everything and above.

He opened your legs some more to accommodate for himself and placed his hand on your pelvis, holding himself within his hand.

“If it hurts, tell me.” He said.

He slowly lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in, looking up at your face as it contorted up from the stretch. You held onto his hand and he intertwined his fingers with your own.

“Fuck…” He groaned, tightly holding onto you. “You’re so tight, y/n…”

You looked down at where you both had connected, taking a few deep breaths before urging him to continue.

He slowly started to thirst inside of you, starting off gentle before you told him he could speed up. Soon he went from gentle and unsteady to hard and controlled.

His stomach brushed against your clit with each thrust, adding on to the pure bliss you were feeling. You thought you’d last much longer than you did, but with the combination of you being stimulated in more ways than one, you came within minutes. Tears fell from your eyes as moans ripped through your throat and your hand tightened within him as your nails dug in.

His thirsts staggered and he quickly stopped, pulling out and finishing on your stomach. Your head fell back and you closed your legs, feeling your body sink into his seat from exhaustion.

For a while, he didn’t say anything. But eventually, he slipped his clothing back on and opened the glove compartment, wiping your stomach with some few napkins he had.

You were too tired to do anything, and being the sweetheart he appeared to be, he put your clothes back on for you and held you against him as you grounded yourself.

Eventually, you recovered from the intense first time you had with him and hugged him, “Thank you…”

He took a deep breath, “Are you going to call me when you make it back to campus?”

“Yes…” You smiled.

“And are you going to text me every single day until we see each other again?” He asked.

“I will.” You told him.

He kissed your cheek and helped you back into the front seat, driving you back to the hotel and walking you into the lobby.

As you stood in the lobby, you turned to face Heeseung, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you. You didn't want this night to end, didn't want to say goodbye to him just yet.

Heeseung seemed to sense your hesitation, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close.

"It's not goodbye," he whispered. "It's just see you later."

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. You hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you for being here with me," he replied, his voice just as soft.

With one last kiss, he pulled away, and you watched as he walked out of the hotel, feeling a sense of sadness and longing in your heart.

But as you made your way back to your room, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special between you and Heeseung. And you couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼✼　 ҉ 　✼　

taglist: @jungwo-nnie @voidbeomgyu

#enhypen smut #enhypen ff #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #heeseung ff

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idontplaytrack · 10 days

Note

Hello, I've been reading your fics since I found them recently and I love your writing sm!! I've been wanting to request some smut for AJ Campos, maybe with a strap, possibly during that track race where instead of Paige, AJ is rooming with reader instead at the hotel

Watch You Sleep

AJ Campos x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Oral, fingering, toy use, pet names. Coarse language, drinking

In which reader’s had a lack of sleep lately and when finally alone with her in a room at an away meet, AJ gets creative

“Are you nervous?” AJ asks you quietly, a hand on your thigh.

“Coach says I’d better perform better today otherwise we can say goodbye to placing. How’d Paige get better than me?” You were looking out the window while the bus was driving to the destination.

“Excuse me?” She turned around, startling you.

“I was just saying how you’ve become better than I am at track. Maybe I should quit.”

“What? Ay, no, no, no.” Dylan chimed in, “You love track.”

“Things change, Dylan.” You exhaled harshly.

“Oh.” Paige’s face fell.

“Yeah, oh.” You snapped, “I haven’t been able to sleep in over a week. I cannot wait for this to be over. I’ve got other things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

“Are we not in the same classes, Evans? We have two essays due in two weeks.”

You wished Paige wasn’t sitting so close by…just a couple days ago, she asked AJ out right in front of you.

AJ looked at you, concerned. “Okay, you guys.” AJ shooed them away, “Return to your own conversation.”

For the rest of the drive, you laid your head on AJ’s shoulder while eating the bag of gummy bears that you brought along. And all throughout the ride, you kept feeling eyes on you. And not from AJ- Paige. You looked away, staring out the window now.

“Girl, what the fuck are you doing? Stop being creepy.” Dylan huffed.

Once at the hotel, all the students started pairing up with their roommates according to Coach Murray’s list and went to their rooms. And you? You were supposed to be with Gabi but AJ asked to swap. “Thanks, Gabs.”

“No worries.” Gabi smiled.

AJ quickly takes you into the room, shutting and locking the door behind yourselves, “Are we going to the party?”

“Yes.” AJ decided, “They would definitely play a drinking game and it would be a great way to make it clear to Paige that I’m not interested,”

“Isn’t it random? Like, don’t they just draw phones out of a pile or something?”

“I was thinking more like we…get tipsy and just kiss in front of her.” AJ chuckles. You snorted, “Please. Knowing how fucking gutsy she is, she might actually shove me to the ground. Then, she’d kiss you.”

“There’ll be witnesses.” AJ points out.

“Yeah, a bunch of drunk teens staying up past lights out is real reliable.” You laughed.

“Then we should just…post something? Announce we’re together?” AJ stifles a laugh.

You shrug, “I dunno.”

“We don’t have to go to that party, you know?” She says, “I would honestly much rather just spend some time alone with you.”

“Oh, yeah? And do what?” You ask. “Never mind, we’ll go to their ‘party’ first. You’re right- it’s the perfect place to let her know. There are other students around- so if she pulls any crazy shit? Witnesses.”

After unpacking, you and AJ decided to head out for dinner at the diner down the block. “God, I’m so tired. Why is she everywhere?”

“Tired, tired or because-” AJ says, but you cut her off.

“Both.” You deadpan. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Okay.” She shrugged, the two of you went further down the block to a pizza place. But not before Paige saw you and AJ leaving- the girl did not look happy.

————

Later that night, you and AJ were in Stacey’s room to party with the rest of the team. “Oh, good. You guys are here!” Stacey gasped, “Come in, come in.”

The kicked the night right off with ‘seven minutes in the hotel bathroom’. The rounds went by rapidly and you weren’t even just a little bit hopeful that you and AJ’s phones would get drawn out of the pillow case for a round together. “y/n, you’re up.” Dylan showed your phone to the group. You looked at him then at Paige who was beside him. “Aaaand, AJ, this is your phone, right? Oh, yup. That’s y/n’s face right there. You’re up- chop chop.” The group started chattering about how surprised they were that AJ had been seeing someone all this time. Contented, you grabbed AJ’s hand, stood up and got shoved into the bathroom by Dylan and Stacey. “Timer starts once the door closes!” Dylan exclaimed.

“Did you see that look on her face?” AJ laughs, grabbing your face to kiss you.

You nod, “Oh, we’re doing that here?” You broke away from the kiss briefly.

“Of course- we’re gonna really give them a show.” AJ grins.

“Oh, hell no.” You gasped, “I am not going to purposely-” And just like that, your train of thought was gone as she kisses you even deeper, her lips trailing down your jaw and to your neck which easily draws out a moan. AJ chuckles, her breath tickles your neck making you squirm.

“To be fair she’s been purposely being a little bitch to you.” AJ raised a brow, “I doubt she couldn’t tell we have something going on at least.”

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me.” You exhaled, your hands began roaming her back, but she lifts you up to sit on the countertop. Without even taking your shorts off, she pushes the fabric of it, and your underwear aside, “Do you feel ready?”

“What?” You asked, confused for a second, “Yeah. Sure.”

AJ dips a finger into your folds, gliding it up and down, proving your point, “Of course you are.” Pushing it easily into your entrance, she quickly gains a momentum, not wanting to waste a single second of this quote-unquote ‘mandated’ make-out time. She grins, licking her lips as she watches your face contort, “Baby, you’re acting like I don’t eat you out every other night.” That smirk on your face made you feel you didn’t know what to do with yourself, feeling a strangled yelp in your throat.

“Now you get shy?” She caresses your cheek with her free hand, her fingers ram into you to force a moan out of your mouth. Successfully.

“Fuck!” You whispered-shouted into her ear, “Fuck you. Oh, God.”

“Feisty.” She bit down on your neck, and you whimpered. AJ removes her fingers from you and started to kiss your face again.

“Time’s up! Get outta there.” Stacey knocks.

“You wanna go back?” AJ asks, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Definitely.” You gave her one last kiss before straightening yourself up quickly then swung the door open.

“We’re gonna- go.” AJ stood behind you, a hand on your shoulder. “Message received. Good night- maybe you can finally get some sleep, y/n.” Dylan commented, earning a smack from his girlfriend. “Well, it’s true- she’s barely been sleeping lately.” Dylan reasoned.

“Good night, guys.” Stacey waved.

————

“Give me a minute- I just gotta get some from my bag.” She tells you while you plopped down on the bed. “Okay.” You responded while lying down. “They’re right- you haven’t been getting any good sleep recently.” AJ spoke up. “Yeah, well? I’ve been too stressed about performing well at the meet tomorrow.”

“It’s at 2pm- so we have plenty of time to get you some sleep.” She says, “Also- this might help.”

“What- oh, jesus fucking christ. How did you get that damn thing- okay, you know what? I’m not even gonna ask.” You eyes widened in shock when you turned onto your side and saw AJ putting on that harness.

“Thought you might need more to actually tire you out. And you’d probably wake up refreshed if you get some uninterrupted sleep- so you could actually perform better than Paige does.” She shrugs nonchalantly- as if she wasn’t going to impale you in the matter of minutes. “Think you can help yourself onto it?”

Her question snaps you out of your trance, “Okay.”

She chuckles, “If you say so.” AJ then laid down, waiting for you to straddle her. “Face me, okay?” You didn’t say anything else but just followed her order, legs bracketing either side of her as you knelt and positioned yourself to ease that shaft inside. AJ reflexively grabs your hips, giving you the support. “You okay, baby?” She watches you closely to make sure you weren’t in pain. You’d gotten yourself about halfway in, but you decided to get a rhythm going in order to make the rest of it easier.

“Baby?” She asks again.

“I’m okay, AJ.” You confirmed, biting your lower lip as you got used to the stretch. Watching her bare body, as she does yours, you felt yourself slipping further in by the minute. And with her words of encouragement, and a little push, you took the whole length. It was now poking you in the g-spot every time you came back down, making the moans fly out from your mouth every time.

“So pretty.” Her hands trailed upwards, kneading your breasts after unclipping your bra and tossing it aside, “You’re so pretty, my girl. Come on, give me a kiss, baby.” You leaned down, crashing her lips onto yours, content to be like this for awhile. She instinctively cups your cheeks with both hands, stroking them with her thumb. The kisses progress got heated, aiding in your little task of riding the strap. She was loving watching you and seeing your tits move along with your actions. That grin on her face? She was more than satisfied with your ability to take it. She pushes you off of her, you whine not liking the sudden emptiness. “Lay down, baby.” She pushes you down gently, her hands massaging your thighs. You complied, soon feeling her teasing you with the tip of the shaft. You squirmed, unable to keep your mouth shut. So she does- AJ crawled up to attack you with kisses, trailing down from your face all the way to your core. But of course, the lower she went, the louder you became. “You know I love hearing you, baby. Don’t hold back.” She says, her breath fanning against the juncture between your legs. “The walls are so thin.” You grumbled, “Do you not hear that?”

“So what? This whole level’s our team.” AJ shrugs, “Oh, my God- is that coach-”

“Don’t put that image in my head.” You interjected, laughing, “AJ, please.” Your hands grabbed her hair, pushing her closer to you.

“M’kay.” She grins, her tongue begins to circle your clit slowly. It made you seethe, trying to swallow the whine that was threatening to fall from your lips. “I want to hear you, babe. It’s alright.” She coos, barely breaking away long enough to speak.

You back arched more and more by the minute, and naturally, the faster she flicked her tongue, the more of a mess you were. And finally, the coil in your core started tightening, taking the place of the fluttering sensation. AJ asks if you were close, and you hadn’t even said a thing since many minutes ago- but instead your endless, whines, whimpers and moans have filled the room making AJ more eager to push you over the edge.

You could definitely feel yourself getting closer to the high, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you. “My God. I’m so close.” You told her in a strained voice. She licks your clit one time before pulling away, much to your annoyance. “I got you, honey.” AJ grins, licking her lips to taste you, “Keep your legs open, we’re nowhere near done.”

You whined needily, feeling the ache and pulsing of your apex becoming increasingly unbearable by the second as she deprived you of the contact and stimulation- to the point where you were about to burst into tears because it was becoming too much to bear. As AJ pushes into you, she held her forearm under both your knees to keep your legs in place. And every single time she pounded into you, a sharp moan attacked her eardrums, sending shocks down her spine. “Keep going, keep going…fuck!” Your breath hitches as she retracts and pushes into you the hardest she’s had that night. Her pace became merciless as you felt the wetness dripping down you, the obscene sound from between your legs made you dizzy as did the pleasure from her fucking you with the strap. Her forearm moves away, she tells you to keep your legs in place. And, she looks right into your eyes as she continues to impale you repeatedly while profanities and high-pitched moans spewed from your mouth in an unending string. “Ah- ah! Fuck.” You cursed. AJ grins, watching you with pride as you looked back at her with hooded eyes that soon rolled to the back of your head. AJ kept going and going, watching your face at first. Then your body started trembling so she reflexively slowed down. “Oh, my God.” You cried, “Holy shit, oh my God. AJ, fuck. That feels so good, babe. Oh-”She was now holding onto one leg as she went at a languish pace to help you ride through your high. The pleasure slowly turned into a slight ache as overstimulation took over. You told her to stop and she pulls out, admiring the aftermath in the process.

She removes the harness and abandoned it. You hear it fall to the floor with a thud before she crawls into bed with you. “Hi, baby.” She cups your cheek, kissing you on the nose, “Do you feel okay?” You nodded silently, laying your head on her chest as her embrace tightens. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?” AJ asks.

“I’m a little sore, but it’ll be okay.” You admit.

AJ nods, “Think you can sleep?” She runs a hand through your hair, pressing yet another kiss onto your face.

“Mhm.” You snuggled closer, allowing her heartbeat and her warmth to lull you to sleep.

“Good night, my love.” AJ exhales softly, watching your sleepy figure in her arms, “Sweet dreams.”

#auli’i cravalho #aj campos #crush #crush hulu #reader insert #x reader #female reader #lgbtqia #queer #wlw #wlw fanfic #romance #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #drama #wlw fluff #wlw angst #queer fiction

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haru-sen · 7 months

Text

Through the Gates of Horn and Oak

Caught the BG3 Brain Rot AND a deep love of the tieflings, hithero referred to as "my cabbages!" No, seriously, I've been screaming about them like the guy from ATLA.

Anyway, WIP preview, playing with some Tav X Zevlor, which will eventually be some Zevlor X Halsin, and maybe some poly dynamics. Look, I just want to poke sad old men with a stick and then feed them cheese.

This preview has light spoilers for early Act I side quests. I have not beat the game, I'm still in Act 3, so please be mindful of spoilers. This is spicy but not explicit.

“How do you do it?” you grumbled, perched on a crate and resting your forehead on the cool stone table, your eyes closing as you reviewed your day. “From harpies, to bugbear assassins, to evil druid-controlled child-tormenting serpents, how do you keep these people alive? I mean, honestly, Zevlor, I’ve only been at it for like a day, and I’m exhausted.”

Zevlor, the tiefling-wrangler in question, gave a dry humorless laugh. “You assumed it was easy?”

“No,” you muttered. “I’m just gobsmacked by the sheer variety of ways they get into trouble. You have my deepest respect and my most heartfelt sympathies.” You stayed facedown while you spoke, which might have detracted from the authenticity of the delivery, but alas.

About a meter away, Tilses snorted. “Have you met Mol yet?”

“Have I met Mol?” you laughed, and it might have been a sob. “Have I met the future legendary patron of the Thieves Guild, you mean? Have I met a force of chaos constrained in a tiny tief package? Have I counted my purse half a dozen times today? Where do I even start?”

Zevlor groaned, clearly not interested in delving into that subject.

Tilses laughed. “You should have seen the time she-”

“Tilses, it’s getting late: you don’t have to stay,” Zevlor said.

“But-”

“Tilses, it’s getting late: you’re dismissed.”

You didn’t need to use your illithid powers to read the subtext in the room. Small talk aside, Tilses didn’t want to leave Zevlor alone with an outsider. Zevlor, however, didn’t seem worried. It could be that he thought you were trustworthy, but it was more likely that he knew that it didn’t matter if she was here. If you decided to turn on him, her presence wouldn’t make a bit of difference.

You could picture his expression easily, that no-nonsense frown, accentuated by the severity of his hellfire eyes and sharp ridged bones. He wasn’t exactly scary, but he had a quiet dignified gravitas that you and Tilses lacked; the kind of man was used to being in charge. Still, Tilses wouldn’t argue, not with you here.

“Understood, sir.”

Military discipline was a hard habit to shake, or so you heard. You smiled as you as her steps faded in the distance and the stone door grinding open and shut. And then there were two.

“I don’t blame you for Mol,” you said. “Obviously, the circumstances are shaping that one, and it would take more resources than you, me, or the entire Grove has to alter her trajectory.”

Zevlor sighed. “...I don’t think I’m capable of discussing Mol’s future right now.” There came a soft grunt and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know that the tiefling was sitting on the table across from you, just a few handspans away. If you lifted your head, he would probably move away, so you stayed there, the slight dissonance of his aura making your ears ring. You didn’t mind though. Things that might have bothered you a week ago couldn’t really match up to a godsdamned mindflayer tadpole swimming through your brain.

Some tieflings possessed a discomforting presence, akin to knowing you were being stalked by an apex predator, or that feeling of something alien crawling across your skin, or that screaming gut instinct that warned you when truly dark magics were abound. It was an involuntary inheritance, a side effect of being part devil, or at least having their human bloodlines tainted by a Hellish pact. But you knew better than most that biology didn’t override character.

Zevlor was a striking model of an Asmodeus tiefling: deep red skin, sharp features, and a pair of thick black horns twisting out of his skull. From what you heard, that strain got well and truly screwed over by their progenitor devil lord’s plotting.

“Would you like something to drink?” A cork popped and there was the clink of metal cups sitting on the table.

“Is it poison?” you asked. “Because I’ve got some lovely wyvern poison of my own. No need to dip into your personal stores.”

“That would be a poor repayment for all the help you’ve given,” Zevlor said, his tone mild.

You didn’t think he was offended. Hard to say. He was difficult to read, unless you decided to use your illithid powers, but then- People didn’t like it when you did that. You didn’t always like it when you did that.

He poured the drinks, and you slowly raised your head, lured out by your own dry mouth.

Zevlor was standing now, he gestured to the uncorked bottle, which sat beside the cups in front of you, all of it available for your inspection.

“Ashaba Dusk?” you asked, sniffing the common wine.

“It’s not so bad,” he said.

It figured that he liked red wines. You wondered if he smoked a pipe too. “You seem like the type to prefer a Gulthmeran Reserve.” It was a dryer red, complex with stronger mineral taste. Something suited for the palate of a stoic older man.

Zevlor’s lips twitched. “Is that so?”

“Am I wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say “no” to a bottle. But finding one out here might prove difficult,” he said as you chose your cup, pretty certain that none of it was poisoned. After all, they still needed your help dealing with the goblins, defanging Kagha, and rescuing the Archdruid. Logic made rationalization easy, even though you had no logical reason to be here alone with this man.

The wine wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. You drank it though. Today had been long, and you weren't going to turn your nose up at his hospitality.

The two of you finished your cups and sat in an almost comfortable silence. Your shoulders lowered incrementally and you basked in his calm company. You were on your second round of refills before he spoke again. “Was there something you wished to discuss?” he asked, fixing that burning stare on you.

Your stomach flip-flopped, but you just raised your cup and took a drink, buying yourself a few seconds to compose your words. “Just enjoying the ambiance.”

His brow furrowed, and he looked around the cave, clearly trying to figure out what you were referring to. The air in the chamber was cool, there were a couple shelves lined with books, and the candlelight was warm and golden. There were no fleshpits, no bloodstains, and nothing was trying to kill you. Best of all, you could not hear Shadowheart and Lae’zel bickering. To be fair, Lae’zel sniped at everyone, but Shadowheart got so damn shrill about it.

“Look, my...friends are nice and all, but sometimes they’re a bit much,” you said. “I’m taking a break from being mediator.”

“Ah,” he said. He rested his chin in his hand, thoughtfully. “I can lend you the chamber. Would you like some privacy?”

You winced. “No, no, I’m enjoying the company too.”

“I see,” he said, brow furrowing momentarily. He refilled your cup, sitting on the edge of the table farthest from you.

You studied the map of Elturel on the desk, while sipping your unpoisoned wine. And then a thought occurred to you much too late. “Oh gods, I’m intruding, aren’t I?” you groaned. “Look, don’t feel obligated. I’ve found a ton of great hiding spots in the Grove. I can take a dip in the sacred pool. There are some very private corners in the library. Hell, I can even go camp out with Mol.”

“...Don’t do that,” Zevlor grimaced.

“You’re right. She absolutely doesn’t need access to wyvern poison. I’ll go sit with Dammon. Aside from the hammering and the smithing, he’s pretty quiet.”

You’re not intruding,” Zevlor said, forcefully. “My hosting skills are simply rusty. I...welcome the chance to practice.”

“Oh,” you said, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It wasn’t a believable reason in the least, but it did seem that he wasn’t trying to shoo you out. At least, you felt more confident that you were not unwelcome.

Zevlor studied your face. “How do you find Dammon’s company?”

“He’s a good kid and so cheerful in the face of everything that’s happened. I’m impressed by his attitude and his skills,” you said. “He’s helping me keep my tiefling in good shape.” Karlach was a certified badass, but she still needed extra special care. Gods, now that you thought about it, tieflings were like exotic fish, it was a real struggle to keep them alive.

Zevlor nodded. “We’re lucky to have him.” He set the empty bottle down and looked over his shoulder at the worn down storage crates, clearly considering the state of his supplies. He was a lean man, and while the kids were small, it was clear that the adults weren’t letting them go hungry. He likely didn’t have a lot to spare.

“Oh! I’ve got a bottle of Ithbank in my pack – the good kind.” You quickly dug into your bag and pulled it out. You were considering trying to bribe Asterion with it, but honestly, he would probably just turn his nose up at the unimpressive offer. You rummaged around your supply pack and found some cheese wedges, ham, a loaf of sourdough bread, and the treasure you scored while exploring. Looking around furtively, you pulled a small ripe sunmelon out and winked. “I know everyone is eating apples, but I’m sick of things trying to poison me-”

“You’ve mentioned poison very frequently today. How often does this happen to you?” Zevlor asked, looking concerned.

“Well, just this week-” You tried to think back. “The bandits, the goblins, some traps, the swamp apples, Nettie-”

“The healer?” Zevlor sounded alarmed.

“Yeah, because of the whole parasite infection thing,” you muttered, the wine loosening your tongue. Only a select few knew that you were carrying mindflayer tadpoles, and he was one of them since you had to explain to him why you were able to just walk into the Absolute camp without raising the alarm. “Look, the point is, I’m put off apples for awhile.” You pulled out a clean food knife – not a dagger, people applied all sorts of deadly coatings to their weapons – and eyed the cheese.

Zevlor rose and brought over clean plates and more cutlery. There was an economy to his motions, a careful precision to everything, no wasted movement. No tells either. This man tried to keep his cards very close to his chest.

It was very different from the first time you met, when he was shouting orders and coming down from the post-battle fury and the loss of one of his charges. Rage uncoiled all those carefully suppressed feelings and destroyed self control: you understood that feeling all too well. The contrast was interesting, you liked watching him.

You made a nice little plate cubes of cheese and ham, slices of bread, and cut your half of the melon into long wedges. Zevlor made a neat sandwich and chopped his melon into bite-sized chunks. This time you poured the Ithbank while Zevlor watched.

He took a sip. “This is nice. Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It really is,” you smiled, biting into the melon and getting some down your chin. The flavor was honey sweet, the flesh luscious and crisp under your teeth. You happily licked your fingers, slurping down the juice. Fuck, these were so much better than apples, and absolutely worth fighting a bunch of bandits for.

When you looked up, Zevlor was staring down at the table.

“I’m being messy, aren't I?” you muttered, wiping your mouth off. The heady combination of too much wine, sweet melon, and the company was making you sloppy. “Sorry.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Zevlor coughed and poured himself some more wine, averting his eyes. He carefully bit into his melon cubes. His tongue flicked out and he licked his lips, closing his eyes. “That is delicious,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his tail swishing behind him.

Satisfied that he was enjoying his fruit, you devoured your slices too quickly, eating them down to the rind. When you looked up, Zevlor was only half finished, clearly taking his time and really savoring the experience.

“These are better than apples,” he said, glancing down at your empty plate. He speared a chunk of melon and extended his fork. “I don’t know if I can finish all this though.”

A damned lie if you ever heard one, and between Wyll and Asterion, you heard a lot of creative truths. You took a swig of wine and met that burning gaze, your breath catching. “I’ll take a bite,” you said. “But you clearly aren’t eating enough. You really should take better care of yourself, Zevlor.”

You leaned forward, delicately took the melon between your teeth, and pulled it off the tines. You gave the utensil a light parting bite, never looking away from Zevlor’s face.

He swallowed audibly, but his hand did not shake and he did not draw back. He just watched you with narrowed eyes, his jaw clenched, those sharp nails digging into his palms, his tail snapping from side to side. That tension was familiar. You remembered a similar strained look back when he got into a confrontation with that asshole mercenary. Maybe you were pushing him too far.

“Have I offended you?” you asked a little sheepishly. You did just take his food from him while insinuating that he was bad at taking care of himself.

“No,” he said gruffly, his voice an octave lower. “But are you going to claim that you don’t know what you’re doing?”

You smiled, lowering your eyes in amusement. “I’m just enjoying the ambiance.”

Zevlor gave a low exhalation, those orange eyes burning intently as he regarded you. “The situation is difficult enough,” he said, his voice harsh. “Hells, teasing an old man is cruel.”

You blinked. “I’ve seen you fight, Zevlor. I’d hardly call you old.” You met his gaze. “And teasing is only cruel if one doesn’t intend to follow through.” You stood, the wine giving you a cocksure recklessness that you would not possess sober. You leaned over the table, nearly nose to nose with him, baring your teeth in a grin. “I’ll deal with Kagha tomorrow. We’ll figure out the goblins after that. And then, if you’re still interested, let’s do something about it.”

Zevlor stiffened, his eyes widening, his lips parting in shock.

You took a swig of the Ithbank, and slammed it down next to him, lifting one of those calloused hands to your lips. You brushed your mouth against the inside of his wrist and then caught his index finger between your teeth. You sucked it down to the knuckle, tasting the blended salt and sulfur of his skin and the sweet stickiness of the melon. The heat of the digit made you want more than this, but you had to be careful with those sharp nails.

Zevlor’s nostrils flared, those brimstone eyes burning as he gritted his teeth, your name a hoarse curse in his mouth.

“And if you’re not interested,” you said, lowering his hand gently. “That’s fine too. It’s entirely up to you. We can just blame the wine.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and left, before you did something really stupid. It didn’t matter though, the fire was already in your veins and the taste of him lingered on your tongue.

Fic posted on AO3 now.

#balders gate 3 #tav x zevlor #reader insert #Reader X Zevlor #fanfiction #Zevlor #Light spoilers for act I

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softblesses · 3 months

Text

Summer Colds.

In which Neal and Elizabeth suffer, and Peter is there to fix it.

Pretty much another classic sick fic of my favourite hyperfixation rn! Please don’t reblog to non kink/whump blogs. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1.

“You’re sick,” Mozzie stated matter of factly, whilst wandering alongside Neal, in the streets of New York.

“I’m fine.” Neal muttered back, rubbing a knuckle under his nose in an attempt to put a stop to the itch.

“You’re not fine! You never sneeze. Like, ever, so unless you can explain the past ten minutes? I’m staying ten steps away, my friend. Ten. Steps. Away.”

“Mozz, you’re being dramatic. It’s nothing, it’s just —“ Neal stopped walking, bringing his elbow to his face. Mozzie was right, but he was hanging on to the small dregs of hope that this was all random and he wasn’t getting sick after all.

‘Heh’kshu!’ The sneezes told a different story.

“Gesundheit. Now, why don’t we do the sensible thing and double back to June’s instead of breakfast? You can go to bed, I’ll get you some medicine and then I’ll make scarce!” Mozzie took a few steps back towards Neal, rolling his eyes at the sound of his cellphone ringing.

He folded his arms, tapping his foot as he listened to his friend speak. “The suit wants you to work?” He questioned, after Neal hung up.

“Elizabeth’s workplace got robbed,” Neal explained, pocketing the phone. “She’s okay, but Peter wants to investigate. Don’t look at me like that, Moz. It’s just a stuffy nose. It’s probably just… allergies, or something.”

“You don’t get any kind of pollen allergies, wise guy.” Mozzie pointed out. “Let me know if El needs my… expertise. I’ll be at breakfast, while you go and tango with the bureau, Sneezy.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later, Mozzie.” Neal watched him walk away, checking his watch; Peter would be here to pick him up soon.

After almost ten minutes, Peter was parking by the sidewalk and Neal climbed into the back seat; they were picking up Elizabeth, so he naturally assumed she’d go up front.

“Hey, Neal.” Peter greeted, and it was already obvious he was stressed.

“I’m sure Elizabeth is fine,” Neal replied, buckling his seatbelt.

His handler only sighed, driving off again. “I told her to stay home today,” he continued, without acknowledging Neal’s statement.

“Stay home?”

“Yeah… she’s sick, and she already worked from home for a couple days. I just — well, El thinks I’m being too dramatic. It’s just a cold, but, still.”

Ah. That explains how Neal caught what he has. “You worry a lot,” he confirmed. “But, I’m sure Elizabeth appreciates it. She’ll be okay, and I’m sure she’ll work from home tomorrow.”

There was a long pause, before Peter sighed again. They stopped in traffic, and he took a look in the mirror back at Neal. “Maybe you’re right,” he hummed.

“I’m right? Really?”

“Alright, don’t push it.”

“Are you sure you’re not getting sick?” Neal teased, although unbeknownst to Peter he was the one feeling under the weather; Neal’s throat itched, and so did his ears, and he couldn’t breathe through his nose or he’d sniffle and it would make him sneeze again.

“My immune system is top notch, and you know it.” Peter pointed out. “I’m feeling fine.”

“Even when sleeping with Elizabeth?”

Peter shot him a glare in the mirror, and Neal held up his hands. I meant sleeping as in sharing a bed! That’s a sure fire way to get sick.” He scrunches his nose, trying his best to quell the ever growing itch.

“Huh. And, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” The man jested back, falling quiet as they neared their destination.

Neal rolled his eyes at Peter’s comment, but for lack of energy and realisation that he was about to park the car again, he stayed quiet. Peter told him to stay put, and explained that he wasn’t going in as FBI — Elizabeth had a bunch that the lead thief was one of her colleagues. It was an interesting sounding case, but right now the CI was too focused on holding back a sneeze. And, as soon as Peter had closed his car door and stepped away from it, Neal buried his face into his elbow and inhaled sharply.

‘Hh’sSHhu, k—tch’tcH. Ugh. Shit.’ He sighed, making quick work of blowing his nose into the handkerchief in his pocket, placing it back just in time for Peter to open the door for Elizabeth.

“Honey, I promise, I’m fine — hey, Neal — a little shaken up, I guess, but I feel alright! You worry too much.” Elizabeth huffed a little, waiting for her husband to get in the car beside her. She didn’t sound extremely sick, but Neal could definitely hear the congestion in her voice.

Peter climbed in the car, and leaned across to feel El’s forehead. She didn’t look impressed. “I know, I know. I worry too much! We have to take your statement back at the office, is that okay? I’ll work from home after that.”

Neal’s eyebrows raised a little at that.

“You’re coming too, Neal. You’re not getting out of work that easily.” It was like Peter had read his mind. “We can —“

‘hu’tsh, tch, tshh. . Huh’tcHoo.’

“Bless you,” Peter and Neal rang in sync, whilst the agent continued to rub his wife’s back.

“Sorry,” El apologised softly, pocketing her tissue and leaning back in the seat with a heavy sigh.

“It’s okay, Hon. Neal, I’ll explain everything to you when we get to my place. Let’s get this statement over with so we can all relax.” Peter leaned across to kiss El on the cheek, before starting up the car.

•••

The conference room was dark, with the shutters closed and the lights turned off. It was like a welcoming blanket of calm, and immediately Neal felt the ache in his head dissipate a little. He quietly closed the door, glancing over at El, who was sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone, on low brightness mode.

“Neal,” she greeted softly. “Everything okay?”

“Peter sent me to check on you,” it was only a tiny, white lie. “And, I’d much rather sit in here with you. Peter gets grumpy when he’s worried.” Neal muttered, wandering in and closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth watched him for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Really? No other reason?” She questioned, still watching him.

“No other reasons.” Neal took a seat in one of the spinning chairs by the conference room table, and rubbed his eyes. They were almost as itchy as everything else; his nose itched, his ears felt stuffy as well as itchy. . . He was starting to feel worse, and if anyone was going to figure him out, it was Elizabeth Burke.

“Neal, are you okay? You’ve been acting off since we were in the car.” Elizabeth pressed on, and Neal sighed in semi-defeat.

“If I told you I had a headache, would you stop asking?” Neal muttered, trying not to sound agitated, and somewhat failing.

There was a pause, and El coughed slightly. “No. Does your throat hurt?” She continued, and Neal spun a little in his chair.

“Maybe.”

“Stuffy nose?”

“A little.”

“So, you’re sick. I knew it.” Elizabeth muttered.

“Which means, this is my fault,” she concluded next. “I’m sorry, Neal.”

He shook his head, reaching into his pocket for the silk handkerchief he’d been hiding away. He rubbed at his nose, and sniffled; revealing the oncoming congestion he’d been trying so hard to cover up for the past couple of hours. “It’s not your fault,” Neal finally spoke, pocketing the handkerchief.

“Know anyone else with a summer cold?” El quipped back, and he could imagine the look she was currently giving him.

With a heavy sigh, Neal leaned to rest his head against his arms, on the tabletop in front of him. “Elizabeth B — wait, what’s your middle name?” Neal asked, sitting up again and squinting over at her.

“Why?”

“Just.. humour me, just for a second.”

“It’s Laura.”

Neal inhaled, and stood up. “Elizabeth Laura Burke, why are you so irritatingly observant?” He exhaled, sniffling afterwards.

A laugh fell from her lips at that, which proceeded into a cough covered by a fist. “Marrying an FBI agent might have had something to do with it,” she smiled, patting the space next to her. “Neal George Caffrey, you know it’s alright to let your guard down here, hmm?” El’s voice softened, watching him as he sat.

He shifted slightly, and El could tell that he was uncomfortable. Although, the eventual albeit very quiet “I know,” was comforting. “That’s why I told you so easily.” Neal murmured, leaning back against the couch with a shiver.

“And, because whatever meds you dosed up with this morning are starting to wear off?” Elizabeth teased, gently reaching to feel his forehead. A little warm, but nothing alarming.

“Stop being right.” Neal grumbled, before quickly leaning away and burying his face into the crook of his arm.

‘Hu—ngxT. . . HheisHhhoo—ugh.”

“Bless you,” Elizabeth murmured, rummaging around in her purse for a new packet of tissues, and gently nudging him before offering them out.

Neal practically whined, taking a moment to use one of the tissues, before leaning back against the couch with another little shiver. Elizabeth frowned, about to suggest asking Peter to take them home sooner, when the glass door behind them opened.

“Sorry that took so long,” Peter’s voice announced. “Ready to go?”

The CI’s demeanour was quick to change — he sat up straight, cleared his throat and plastered on a signature Neal Caffrey smile in greeting. “Am I still coming?” He questioned nonchalantly, scrunching his nose and trying his absolute best not to sniffle again.

“Yep,” Peter responded. “We’re working from home today. Which means better coffee and some proper rest for El.” He offered out his hand for his wife, who stood and wandered towards him. She took a glance back at Neal, that was wordlessly saying ‘are you going to tell him, or am I?’ But, the CI simply followed behind them, shaking off whatever discomfort he was currently feeling for now.

Seconds after leaving the comfort of the dark room behind them, both Elizabeth and Neal squinted at the harsh lighting that illuminated the bullpen. Barely seconds later, the pair both paused and comedically in sync sneezes caused Peter to stop in his tracks and turn. “Bless y—whoever just sneezed.” He frowned, watching his wife continue to do so, and Neal turn around to put his back to him.

‘Hhh—ngxXt.’ The CI spun back around, sniffling desperately, and faced with a quizzical look from Peter.

“What, you’re sick too, now?” He questioned, folding his arms.

Neal shook his head. “The lights are too bright, Peter. You should really get someone to — snf — fix that.” He straightened himself up, and glanced sideways at El, who didn’t seem all that pleased with the holdup.

“Right,” Peter muttered, gesturing for the pair to follow him again.

“You wouldn’t understand. Having striking blue eyes isn’t all fun and games,” Neal continued, ignoring the look he got from Elizabeth beside him. He didn’t want to tell Peter he felt lousy, not yet. It was awkward, and he wasn’t used to being so open about vulnerability… besides, he just needed some more meds and he’d be fine to work the case.

On the elevator ride back down, El wrapped her arms around Peter and rested her head against his chest. It was obvious that her meds were wearing off too, although all Neal could do was uncomfortably shift on his feet until they reached the parking garage. He shivered, rubbing his eyes again, and followed Peter and El to the car in silence. Even when sitting in the back, he was uncharacteristically quiet, and at this point Peter wasn’t very convinced that his excuses earlier were true… because, a quiet Neal Caffrey was always something to be suspicious of.

When they got back, El told Neal to wait upstairs and she’d find him something comfortable to wear. Peter waited until the CI was out of earshot, before turning to his wife with a questioning expression. He led her into the living room, bringing her into his arms and waiting a moment before speaking.

“El,” he began. “What’s wrong with Neal?” He figured that if Neal was going to tell anyone, it would probably be El.

His wife faltered, looking up at him with a slightly guilty look. “Why would he tell me?” She replied, resting her head back against Peter’s chest with a congested sigh.

“Because you’re Elizabeth Burke — kind, soft, warm and caring. I can imagine Neal would talk to you, given the right circumstances… you were alone, maybe his guard was down.”

“Well, I kinda guessed. He eventually told the truth.” Elizabeth admitted. “I feel awful about it. I didn’t want to get anyone sick.”

Peter pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Speaking of awful, how are you feeling now?” He asked, leaning back to look at her.

“A little less than awful.”

“But, not great?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “D’you still need me to help with anything in the case?” She asked quietly.

“All I need for you to do is go and change into something comfortable and lie down. We can talk work later, once you’ve rested. I’ll come check on you in a half hour… I guess I should check on Neal too, huh?”

“I’ll check on him before I go to bed. I love you.”

#snzblr #snz #sneezeblr #sickfic #snz scenario #w/hite co/llar #n/eal is so cute I love him #I just love them #I hope y’all like this!! probably one or two more parts to come #snz thoughts

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xoxoladyaz · 9 months

Text

AU-gust, Day 9: Cleaning Crew

A/N: Avengers Crossover and allusions to smut, ahoy!

This ended up way hurt/comfort/fluff than I anticipated and there were almost no sexy times? And it was definitely the Avengers cockblocking Eddie and not the other way around so if there's still interest in that, I could see me writing THAT AU in the future! I just wanted Steve to be properly appreciated, you know? Anyways, happy AU-gust Day 9!

“This is the weirdest NDA I’ve ever seen.”

“Question, how many NDAs have you seen?”

Nancy Wheeler’s pinched face glared at Steve through his Starkphone. “Enough.” She rolled her eyes at Steve and restarted her perusal of the hefty contract Steve had emailed over to her (that she’d insisted on printing and making notes on, because even ten years removed from high school, Nancy Wheeler was thorough.) “There’s some things here regarding interpersonal relationships that seem a little unprecedented.”

“But?” Steve Harrington echoed, his eyebrows near his hairline.

“But you are dealing with the world’s first literal superhero team so these probably aren’t unreasonable requests,” she finished between gritted teeth.

“Great, so I can sign it then.”

“Steve,” Nancy sighed, and she pinched her nose between her eyes, “are you sure you want to do this? If it’s a matter of money - ”

“It’s not, Nance. Neither one of us has to work,” Steve argued back and hey, he wasn’t wrong. The government had been obscenely generous in their payouts after they’d finally defeated Vecna. And, okay, was it a little weird that instead of going to a fancy school or kickstarting his musical career or buying a weed farm that Steve rented a normal apartment and put the rest away into an investment fund? Maybe. Did he need to work, let alone work as a glorified cleaning service for the one percent? No, not at all.

But maintaining one of his (recently-divorced) mother’s properties had turned into a prosperous career because hey, it turns out all of those years spent cleaning up after the kids (and the interdimensional monsters they kept as pets) meant that he was, like, really good at cleaning. (And he was still incredibly insecure about his intelligence, or lack-thereof, and he didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t get into the dream school he applied for.)

And now he’d been personally asked – by Pepper Potts herself, of all people (who apparently played bridge with his mom?) – to take over the general care and upkeep of the personnel apartments at the newly re-christened Avengers Tower in New York City.

(Thank God he’d been out of town at one of Lucas’ basketball games when the whole attack happened; not that he wouldn’t have been willing to help but man, fighting monsters takes a toll when you’re not a superhuman. And he was only thirty.)

“This just feels like a cry for help, Steve. Do you really want to look after the world’s most difficult group of people?”

Steve stared at Nancy without blinking. “I babysat Henderson for years. I feel like I’m still babysitting Henderson.”

“I know, it’s just – I’m just worried that you’re not moving on, Steve.”

And, well, that hurt. Because sure, he didn’t have a doctorate like Robin or Dustin and he wasn’t playing professional sports like Lucas or spearheading global disability rights campaigns like Max or running a prosperous weed farm like Argyle or was part of the reporting and photography duo that was Nancy and Jonathan, nor was he part of a Grammy-winning rock band or a retired superhero or –

(It’s just, at the end of the day, Steve didn’t have really big dreams. After years spent fighting interdimensional monsters that liked to crawl their way out of walls, all of the other stuff – fame, fortune, money, a legacy – it didn’t really feel important anymore. All Steve wanted now, and truthfully, all he really wanted then, was a place to call home and people to belong to.

So honestly, it was really fucking rude of Nancy to judge him for just wanting that. And he was going to be working in close proximity with the Avengers of all people, like, how was that not success? Sure, he’d essentially be a live-in maid, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t doing important work.)

Steve didn’t say any of this to Nancy, of course; he didn’t need to. The looks on her face – shock, and then guilt – said enough.

“Steve - ”

“Thanks for your help, Nance,” he replied quickly, and then he hung up the phone.

(They were all split up now, they had been for years. And keeping them all together, staying together, being a family? That had been his dream for years.

But maybe it was time for a new dream now.

And maybe the Avengers Tower was the perfect place to start.)

/////

Working at the Tower meant that sometimes Steve felt like he was cleaning a frat house, mainly because the communal kitchen was usually covered in junk food wrappers and empty beer bottles and days’ old coffee mugs.

(“Trust me,” Pepper Potts had said drily the first time they’d had a check-in meeting, “this doesn’t come closeto a Tony Stark frat house party.”)

Still, he was on time every day, kept to himself, and most importantly didn’t sell out any information to any of the many, many media outlets that sent him offers. That, along with the fact that apparently Steve had an obscenely high security clearance (thanks, Hawkins!) meant that he was asked to officially move into the staff quarters of Avengers Tower within his first month of work.

(Which had the added effect of him actually meeting the Avengers and, well, it was a little weird.

Because if Steve didn’t know any better, he’d say that they were flirting with him. Or, even worse, that they were staking some sort of claim, and that didn’t make sense, right?

Right?)

/////

1. Tony Stark

“Hey honeybun, how’s it hanging?”

“To the left,” Steve replied absentmindedly as he disinfected the industrial-grade espresso machine.

Someone choked behind him and – shit.

He’d just said that to his BOSS.

(His incredibly hot, incredibly wealthy, incredibly smart and powerful boss.

SHIT.)

“Mr. Stark!” Steve exclaimed as he spun to face his employer. “Mr. Stark, I am so, so sorry, that was so inappropriate - ”

“First of all, please for the love of god call me Tony,” Mr. Stark – Tony – ordered with a smirk as he leaned on the kitchen’s island. He was dressed in an old AC/DC tee that sent a pang through Steve’s heart because wowit reminded him so much of Eddie (although that’s where their style similarities ended, because Eddie always wore loose bottoms and Tony’s pants were always fitted to accentuate his ass.

NOT THAT STEVE HAD BEEN LOOKING.)

“And second of all,” Tony purred as he leaned further across the island, getting right up into Steve’s space, “don’t tease me if you aren’t going to follow through, sweetheart.”

Steve didn’t need a mirror to tell him that he was flushing bright red. “I – I - ”

“Mister Harrington, sir,” JARVIS spoke – which was a fully functional AI that Dustin would die to know about – “there is a call waiting for you on your personal line, a Mister Edward Munson.”

Speak of the devil.

“Oh,” Steve murmured, his face cooling off as quickly as it had heated and he spun around, hands shaking as he looked for a towel. “Yeah, let me just get a towel - ”

“JARVIS, put the call on my line,” he heard Tony order, and then a warm hand was at his back. “I’ve got this, handsome.”

Steve turned just in time to see Tony shoot him a wink and pick up his phone. “Eddie Munson, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you,” Tony started and then he was gone, disappearing out of the kitchen and towards his lab.

“I – JARVIS?”

“Mister Stark is a mystery to behold,” the AI replied with a sigh. “How about a glass of champagne?”

You know what? Fuck it.

“That sounds great, J.”

2. Steve Rogers

“ – and I said, ‘excuse me, but only one of us outsmarted some leftover commie bastards at the age of ten and it wasn’t you, Professor.’”

Steve snorted, listening as Erica detailed her most recent argument – and victory – with her prick of an international relations professor. (A few days after his weird interaction with Tony in the kitchen, he’d been granted access to accept personal calls in the main Avengers spaces, which meant that he had more time to catch up with his friends while cleaning which was a blessing because some of the dusting in this place? Took hours.)

“Doesn’t that break your NDA?”

“Please,” Erica snorted over the living room’s loudspeakers, “I’ve got Owens wrapped around my finger, just like you with a certain member of the one percent.”

“Sorry, what?” Steve paused mid-wipe, looking confusedly at the now-gleaming metallic coffee table in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

“Tony Stark, your knight in iron armor?” Erica replied in her best I’m-talking-to-an-idiot-right-now voice. “Or did you forget that he’s screening your calls?”

“He’s screening my what?”

“Please, we all heard about his little talk with the Nerd King,” she scoffed and oh yeah, he’d forgotten about that. (Honestly, he had no idea what those two had even talked about; when he asked Tony, the older man had changed the subject and ordered super fancy sushi instead.) “Now, if you had a bodyguard like that back at Starcourt, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten your ass kicked by the Russians.”

“What Russians?”

Steve didn’t scream, but he might have let out a high-pitched noise of surprise at the sound of Captain America’s voice. He turned around to find Steve Rogers standing at attention in the living room, his eyes glaring at the speakers overhead.

“Steve,” Erica’s voice echoed slowly, “am I hearing Captain America right now?”

“Just Steve Rogers, ma’am,” the tall blonde replied automatically.

“And just how long have you been there, Just Steve Rogers?”

“Long enough. Now, what is this about the Russians?” He asked, and his piercing blue eyes dropped onto Steve’s face and his heart was beating fast because he was nervous and for no other reason.

“Seriously? How do you not know? Haven’t you read Steve’s file?” Erica asked incredulously and okay, this conversation needed to be done immediately.

Piercing blue eyes grew shocked and Captain Rogers looked, well, sick to his stomach. “You have a file?”

“Okay!” Steve jumped up before this could spiral any further out of hand. “Erica, it was great talking to you, I’ll call you later, uh, Captain Rogers - ”

“Please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve, there’s nothing to be, uh, worried about - ”

“She said Russians,” Cap pointed to the ceiling, “so there’s definitely something to be worried about. Does Tony know about the Russians?”

“I’m sorry, did somebody say my name?” Tony popped his head into the room because of course he was also nearby.

“Did you know about this?”

“I know a lot of things, Cap, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Did you know that Steve was attacked by Russians?”

“Steve was what?!”

(Steve was then treated to the sight of Iron Man and Captain America reading his security file, staring at him in shock, and then stomping off to do something about their fury? The last part of that entire thing didn’t make sense, but JARVIS sent him some whiskey so hey, it could have been worse.

And if he let Captain Rogers tuck an extra blanket around him during movie night, well, that was just his business.)

3. Natasha Romanoff (and Clint Barton)

“I heard you lost a fight with some Russians.”

“JESUS!” Steve startled, barely stopping himself from dropping Tony’s mother’s expensive China all over the floor. (The porcelain set hadn’t been looked at in years and Pepper wanted to use it for the next investors meeting, so of course this is when the infamous Black Widow approached him.)

“Okay, first of all,” he said after he had set down the dishware and turned to face the smirking redhead, “I didn’t lose the fight, I knocked one out.”

“And then you got surrounded, captured, and were tortured for a total of two hours in a hidden bunker,” she finished. (How did she get her eyebrow to quirk like that? And why did he feel like she was flirting with him but also being mean?)

(And how could he get that skill?)

“I – yeah, you’re not wrong about that,” Steve muttered, glancing away from Natasha. “At least we all made it out alive. And we survived the whole Hawkins earthquake thing.”

Natasha snorted and murmured something under her breath that sounded like Russian but also sounded like metal and frankly didn’t make a lot of sense. She cleared her throat and spoke up and, well, whatever she said before must not have been important. “It’s a good thing you have us to train you.”

“Yeah,” he murmured absentmindedly. Then –

“Wait, what?”

Which is how Steve started spending two hours out of every afternoon “training” with Natasha in the official Avengers’ sparring room. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how much good it was doing, given that “training” mainly consisted of Natasha throwing him around the room and giving him bruises.

(Okay, that he was into, and she knew it too, judging by the wink she’d send him every time he headed off to the showers.)

After a few weeks, when she’d deemed him “competent” enough, she had Clint Barton start “assisting” as well, meaning there were two of them beating him up now which meant twice the embarrassment and twice the bruises.

(And twice the amount of time jerking off in the shower.)

(This was really starting to get out of hand.)

4. Thor and Bruce Banner

“This is really starting to get out of hand.”

“What is?” Robin asked as she poured the last of her Flaming Hot Cheeto dust into her mouth. She was the first person Steve had been able to secure a visitor’s pass for; Dustin was next on the list, followed by Max and Erica and then the rest of the gang (although according to JARVIS they were running into some sort of problem with Eddie’s pass, which could take up to an additional two months? He didn’t fully understand it, JARVIS had told him during breakfast a few days ago and he’d gotten distracted by Natasha throwing knives at Clint’s apple strudel and Steve accidentally breaking the toaster again.)

Steve grimaced as he watched her lick her fingers. “You mean aside from your Cheeto addiction?”

“Hey, this isn’t an addiction, I can stop any time,” she replied with a snort before tossing her empty bag at Steve.

(Gross.)

“Sorry, what were you saying dingus? Something about things getting out of hand?”

“I don’t know, I just,” Steve set down his feather-duster (that he hadn’t even been using, he’d just been tossing it around like his old ice cream scooper) and got close enough to Robin so she could hear his whisper, “I might be reading things wrong, but I’m almost getting the feeling that they’re into me or something?”

Robin frowned. “Who, Eddie?”

“Eddie?” Now it was Steve’s turn to be confused. “No, the Avengers.”

“The AVENGERS?” Robin squeaked just as the door to the elevator banks opened. Steve and Robin whipped around to see Thor enter the main atrium with Dr. Banner on his heels.

“Steve!” Thor shot him a blinding smile and strutted over. Upon reaching Steve he wrapped him up in a hug and lifted him off the ground.

“Hey Thor!” Steve wheezed, trying to pat what he could of Thor’s back.

“How I have missed your countenance, my friend,” Thor boomed, and then he was setting Steve back on the ground –

And kissing him on the lips.

Thor leaned back and beamed, ignoring the fact that Steve was openly gaping at him. “It is good to be home.”

“Yeah? Yeah,” Steve breathed before shooting a quick look at Robin who looked completely and totally dumbfounded.

“And you must be the Lady Robin!” Thor said, turning his mega-watt smile upon Robin who flushed bright red. “Steve has told us of your exploits and your intellect. You would do well amongst the heroes of Asgard.”

“Thank you? I mean, thank you,” Robin squeaked.

(If Steve wasn’t in a state of complete and utter shock, he might have laughed at her, but he couldn’t move.)

“I have also seen the flag of your people,” Thor continued, like he didn’t notice Robin’s utter embarrassment, “and I have a lovely friend named Val who is searching for a paramour of her own. Do you think you would be interested? I could arrange a meeting.”

“Val. Val? As in - ”

“Valkyrie, yes,” Dr. Banner finally cut in sheepishly. “Also, hi, I’m Dr. Banner.”

Robin could only muster up a wave.

“Uh, hi, hi Bruce,” Steve shook his head, forcing himself to get it together it was only a kiss.

“Hi Steve, good to see you,” Bruce replied, and now he was bright red and well apparently Thor was the only person who wasn’t blushing right now and Steve needed to get a handle on this stat.

“That would be great, Thor!” Steve cut in, saving Robin from having to respond. “Robin’s going to be in town for a few more days.”

“Wonderful!” Thor said, turning back to beam at Steve. “I shall invite Val for dinner tomorrow but for now, I shall allow you to return to your revelry. Lady Robin,” he said with a bow towards Robin and then, turning to face Steve, he shot Steve a smug wink. “Steve.” And with that Thor was gone, headed towards Tony’s lab with a still-blushing Bruce Banner hot on his heels.

Steve turned to stare at Robin.

Robin stared back at Steve.

“Holy shit.”

5. The Team

Surprisingly – or unsurprisingly – Robin’s date with Val had gone really, really well; in fact, it had gone so well that Robin transferred her graduate credits to NYU in a matter of days and moved into the Tower as well.

(“Steve. Steve. She’s a literal alien warrior goddess. Who cares where I work? I don’t even need to work.”

Still, the NYU transfer went incredibly smoothly, so smoothly that Steve confronted a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist about it. Tony had denied any input and distracted him with more sushi and a thorough tour of his sportscars which had ended up lasting for hours.)

Anyways, with Robin now living as an occupant of the Tower and the rest of the Avengers fully settled in and in agreement on a chore chart, Steve was starting to wonder just why he was still employed; like, what purpose was he serving? He really did try to stay on top of the cleaning, but the others were pitching in almost constantly, and it was a miracle if he was responsible for cooking even one meal a day.

“I just don’t get it,” he finally said to Robin on a particularly hot day in July. They were the sole occupants of the Tower’s rooftop infinity pool (as the Avengers proper were spending the day in a series of meetings), so this was the closest Steve was going to get to having a private conversation with Robin.

(Like, he was really, really glad that Val was so obviously head over heels for his best friend, but it definitely cut down on his and Robin’s cuddle time.)

“Don’t get what, dingus?”

Steve shrugged and ran a wet hand through his drying hair. “I don’t know, why I’m still here? I mean, they aren’t really using me as a cleaner anymore, and I mean, Bruce is a way better cook than me and he’s pretty much taken over so, like, what am I even doing here?”

Robin turned and pushed up her sunglasses so they were making eye contact. “Seriously? You’re serious right now.”

Steve nodded.

“You really don’t see it?”

“See what?”

Groaning, Robin slid her sunglasses back onto her face and turned back towards the horizon. “I’m not going to be the one to spell it out for you, dingus. You’re going to have to do this on your own. Or, better yet, why do you just ask?”

“Uh, maybe because I don’t want to get fired?”

(Robin shoved his head underwater at that which, frankly? Was incredibly rude.

He got his revenge later by knocking her into the pool after she’d finally dried off.)

+ 1 Bucky Barnes

Being fresh off of a highly-advanced plane-ship-thing from Wakanda meant that Steve hadn’t seen a whole lot of James “Bucky” Barnes. He’d sat next to him at dinner a few times, shared a couch during their re-watch of Game of Thrones, even sparred a bit at Natasha’s direction during Steve’s “training,” but they hadn’t really talked, which made the fact that after Steve’s un-helpful swim with Robin, he found said super soldier waiting for him in the hallway outside of his bedroom.

“Bucky, hi,” Steve nodded, rubbing his towel across the back of his neck. “Sorry, did you need something? Is there a problem with - ”

“No problems, doll, I just wanted to have a chat,” the dark-haired man purred, and Steve?

He felt his stomach tangle up in knots.

“A-about what, exactly?”

Bucky hummed and uncrossed his arms, the vibranium arm shimmering under the light. “Well, a little birdie told me you had some questions about what your place is here,” he said, a playful sparkle in his eye. “And,” Bucky stepped closer and backed Steve up until Steve was leaning against the door to his own apartment, “since it seems that my teammates haven’t made your position entirely clear, I thought I would take matters into my own hands.”

Steve didn’t even get a sound out before Bucky was surging forward, planting the sort of kiss on Steve that he knew he’d never recover from because for as forceful and passionate as it was, it was gentle too: the way Bucky’s cybernetic arm wrapped around Steve’s back and help him up; the way his other hand cupped the side of Steve’s face; the way Bucky hummed, like Steve’s lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted;

The way he lifted Steve up and kicked open the door.

“I – I - ” Steve panted out as the door swung shut behind them. “I still - ”

“You’re home, doll,” Bucky murmured against Steve’s lips. “That’s what you are.”

And, well.

Steve couldn’t not kiss him then.

(And he couldn’t not give him every piece of himself in return underneath his silken sheets.)

Four Months Later

“Okay, now this is the weirdest NDA I’ve ever seen.”

Jonathan snorted from across the room as he fiddled with his camera.

“Hey, you were the one that wanted the exclusive,” Steve replied. “I could have told you it would be more intensive.”

“Yeah, yeah, and who’s fault is that?” Nancy teased with a glimmer in her eye. “I’m not the househusband here.”

“Umm excuse me, that’s my job?” Robin piped up from her spot on Val’s lap. “Steve is obviously the trophy wife.”

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, but then a pair of godly arms wrapped around his waist, a cybernetic arm wrapped around his shoulders, and a pair of expensive lips pressed a hot kiss to his cheek.

“Best trophy wife a guy could ask for,” Tony crooned in his ear and then laughed at Steve’s blush.

(His partners weren’t the good guys, they were evil.)

“Dude, Eddie would shit a brick if he saw this,” Jonathan said with another snort.

“Oh, how is - ”

“Who do you speak of? I am not familiar,” Thor cut Robin’s question off loudly, his thundering voice vibrating up and down Steve’s back.

“I think he said Freddie - ”

“Oh, like Freddy Krueger – Cap, we need you to watch A Nightmare on Elm Street - ”

“ – after the shoot! Do you think Tony will order us sushi again?”

“ – Steve first, Steve, are you in the mood for sushi?”

Steve felt Nancy nudge him, and he turned to see her smiling. “Hey. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Nance,” Steve smiled back.

“It’s good to finally be home.”

#steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington my beloved #avengers #tony stark #thor #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #stobin #stobin friendship #valkyrie #sorry eddie you snooze you lose #and now it is time for me to snooze because this is way too fucking long my god #august fanfic challenge

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