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ichangedmycornyahhname · 1 year

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Earth 42!Miles x Reader

The buzzing of the drill was soon drowned out by the shattering glass.

Summary: After a talk with Miles, reader finds herself at the nail salon. She was treating herself, just as he had requested. But that self care day soon turns into much more. Part 1. Here

Warnings: A little angst? Violence | Cursing | Some spice I suppose. | I’m gonna warn y’all now, I do not speak Spanish fluently at all, so if anything is wrong grammatically please correct me. | I’m actually thinking of making this into a mini series? Maybe a part. 3 after this. Also! Open to some title ideas.

Miles kept his promise. He sent her money to get her nails done. Which is why now she sat in her usual salon, her friend Roxanne drilling at her nails. The salon was hidden deep within the city, a little hole in the wall. With New York in shambles, people had to find some sort of way to feel normal. “What design are we doing this time Y/N? Freestyle again?” Y/N shook her head at her pink haired friend, causing her Roxy to smirk. “Oh, I see. What’s the idea then?”

“Was thinking of doing purple and black. Maybe a little green.” Those were Miles signature colors. His prowler costume consisted of different shades of purple and black, and she was sure her friend could come up with something good. “Hm, that’s new. Alright whatever you say.” Roxy gave a fond smile before getting to work. As she did so, Y/N found herself pondering on what to do after getting her nails done. Maybe go get some food, check on a few friends, avoid the crooks on every street. Possibly invite Miles over for a late night rendezvous. She sighed at the thought. She was completely smitten with the guy.

As time went by, and Roxy made quick progress, a low rumble began to stir beneath their feet. Followed by the loud roar of an engine. She traded a look with Roxy, who had a brow raised in suspicion. “You feel that too?” She questioned as the drill buzzed just above Y/Ns nail. “Yeah, what the hell is that?” She replied to the woman with dyed hair. It wasn’t just the two who noticed. Most people within the nail salon glanced around, concerned and confused by the sudden rumbling. The same rumbling that suddenly stopped. “Maybe it’s construction.” Roxy chimed, doing her best to stay optimistic. Then she got right back to work. The drill buzzed, shaving down the black base of the nail. “What’s got you so preppy? You still with that guy?” Y/N flushed at the question, her gaze averting from Roxy’s. “Yeah, we’re still together. He’s a really good guy, just really busy.” She fawned. “That’s good, glad you’re doing well girl. Was getting worried about you after the whole..” Roxy’s voice trailed off, and Y/N took this as a chance to cut in, “I’m fine Rox, he makes me feel happy. I promise.” She gave her a look of confirmation and Roxanne only nodded.

The atmosphere of the salon was pleasant, relaxing. She found herself spacing out, her eyes focusing in on nothing too important while she lightly bopped her head to the music playing in the background. Then the rumbling returned, and much louder this time around. It sounded close, too close for comfort. Following the noise, her eyes landed on an incoming cop car. She could barely make out the sparking metal of the rim where the missing tire was before the car skidded onto the it’s side and tumbled into the big front window of the salon. The crashing of glass filled the shop, along with the blaring siren and tumbling debris. Y/N ducked down at the sight of the crash, pulling Roxy along with her as the broken down car came to a slow stop in the middle of the salon.

Amidst the carnage, she could faintly make out the crumpled figure of a cop within the drivers seat. She had no clue who the guy was. In fact, she had no clue what was even going on. All she knew was the salon was in utter ruins, and the car was spilling oil into a large puddle beneath it. She felt overwhelmed by the sight. By the sirens ringing in her ears, by the smoke rising from the cars engine. “Holy fuck..Rox we gotta get out of here!” She half whispered half shouted. Her hand found Roxy’s, giving it a light tug as she led the shell shocked woman to the wide opening left by the car. “Hurry up girl..! I’m not trying to die here..” She almost hissed. As they made their way past the wrecked car, the smoke from the debris and vehicle flooded their lungs. Roxy began to cough, heavy and intense. This would’ve caught her attention if the incoming villain didn’t. He was large, bulky, and clad in dark angular armor. His aura oozed superiority, while his hardly visible eyes were stuck on the cop unconscious in the car. It would seem the armored man had a target. With this new found knowledge (assumption), she made haste towards the exit, somehow managing to slither out without catching the attention of the man in armor. “Rox..we gotta get out of here man. Before that big dude spots us..” She muttered as they hid behind large pieces of debris. Her eyes took a glance over the fallen pieces of building, the sight of the man approaching the car bringing a sort of relief to her. “What are you talking about Y/N? We can’t leave that cop in there. That guy will kill him..!” Y/Ns jaw slacked, shocked by her friends desire to rush into danger. “The hell are you talking about? We’ll be squashed like bugs if we go in there..” She found Roxy’s arm, and have it a harsh squeeze as she tried to get the woman to stay back. Though it would seem to be pointless. Roxy was already slipping away and sneaking her way back into the building.

Y/Ns hands found her hair. Her fingers tugged at the root as she watched frantically as her friend entered the building once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do. I can’t fight that dude he’s fucking huge..and I’ll be caught if I-“ She paused mid sentence as she came to a realization. And soon she was dialing Miles’ number, hoping that the fool would answer his phone.

“Please pick up..please..fuck.” Click, “Yeah, what’s up ma?”

“Oh thank fuck-“ A breath of relief left her now chapped lips, she had never been so thankful to hear his voice. “Miles, baby, you need to come quick!.. I was getting my nails done and then a cop car bursted through the damn window..now some big armor dude is about to kill him and my friend is trying to be a hero tryna save him..” Her words were quick, breathy, and frantic. And Miles immediately took notice of this. “Im..im at my usual place. Need you to hurry.” She whispered into the phone as she attempted to peek over to the scene that was unfolding.

“I’m on my way now.” Was all she received from her boyfriend. She wanted to respond, truly. But her tongue was tied, and her friend was about to be fighting for her life. Roxy had managed to get the cop out of the car, now dragging him out as quickly as she could, slippery streams of oil leaving a trail behind. “Cmon Rox..” She had long forgotten about her phone, and found herself at a crossroads. Should she help, be the good person she was raised to be? Or should she sit there and do nothing? She gulped, her hand visibly shaking around her phone as she mentally began to hype herself up. She had no clue what the rhino was doing this in the middle of the day, or any clue why he was only after the cop. But what she did know was that her friend was in danger. “Y/N? What’re you about to do?” She heard from the other side of the line. However, she didn’t reply. Instead she rushed over, still crouched down behind rubble as she made her way inside. “Rox! Rox..cmon grab his heavy ass and let’s get the hell out of here.” She cursed out as she found the man’s arm and tugged him away from the car, he was much more heavy than she had anticipated. “Thank you Y/N.” Roxy replied before tugging at the cops other arm. They worked to pull him out as quickly as possible, but the rhino took notice of this. His hard glare turned deadly, and he visibly uttered something inaudible to the panicking woman. “Hurry! Hurry!”

He growled, his head lowering as he changed positions. At first, she wasn’t sure what he was doing, and then she realized. He was charging, at them.

She dropped the cops arm and attempted to pull Roxanne off of the cop, her movements quick and frantic. And she almost budged, but it would seem as though shock had gotten to her, her grip unbreakable. “Roxy cmon!” She screamed, shrill with panic. They were going to die. They were going to die in a broke down nail salon because her friend wanted to save a cop. Y/Ns eyes slammed shut as she waited for the inevitable. Her breath caught in her throat at the incoming impact, but it never came. Instead the crash of another vehicle caused her ears to ring, followed by large hands shaking her out of her fear. “Hey. Hey you okay? Talk to me!” Her eyes shot open, her hands coming up to wrap around the figures wrists. “M- Mil- prowler.” She was absolutely relieved to see him, to hear that robotic filter on his voice as she stared at his mask. “I’m..okay..where’s uhm.” She took a moment, swallowing as she gathered herself. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her body was shaking with unease. She swallowed, spit wetting her dry mouth. Quickly she collected herself. “Roxy, where’s Roxy? And that cop?”

“They’re fine, but we gotta go before that dude wakes up. Cmon.” He said as he turned around and pulled her onto his back. She didn’t bother arguing, she didn’t have the energy. Somehow, Miles managed to drag all three of them out of the crash sight and far enough out of harms way. It was a dingy alley way, trash and other none-sense tossed around. Y/N was still resting on his back, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thought I was gonna die back there.” She uttered the words, but he heard them loud and clear. “Nah, I would never let that happen. You know that mami. I called the cops for your friend and that man. You’re coming home with me.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling, and she was perfectly fine with that.

Miles slipped into his apartment through the window, and trudged inside. He tossed his metal gauntlet onto the floor, his hands free to lay her onto his bed. The plush mattress underneath her body managing to relax her muscles. Miles didn’t join her in bed immediately. Instead he was packing his suit up along with his gauntlets, before stepping back over. Now in a simple black tank top and sweats. His gaze was soft, solemn even. His hand found a strand of her hair, fiddling with it as he watched her cautiously. “Wanna go clean up? I can start a bath or shower for you..” He asked as he took a seat on the bed beside her.

“Yeah, all this damn dust and sweat is gonna make me look a hot mess.” He gave a small chuckle at her joke, though he wasn’t all to amused by the entire situation. He figured it was best to get her comfortable before talking about anything. “Ight. Cmon then ma.” His hands went under her body, picking her up princess style and bringing her over to the bathroom. “I’ll bring you a towel and wash cloth, just gimme a sec.” He gently set her down, his hand lingering on her arm before he left only to briefly return.

“I left some clothes for you on the counter.” He mentioned before placing a kiss upon her forehead and departing from the restroom. She smiled, thankful for his presence. And soon she hopped in the shower. It was relaxing, the hot water pattering gently across her skin. The feeling of cleanliness as she washed the remainders of the day away.

Eventually, she was hopping out of the shower and putting the clothes he had given her on. It wasn’t anything special. Just a pair of his shorts and a shirt, but it felt special to her. Y/N made her way through Miles (Rio’s) apartment, finding her way into the kitchen to snatch up a few snacks. Thankfully Mrs. Morales was fast asleep in her room, so she went without questioning. Y/N made her way back to Miles’ room, entering and shutting the door behind her. His room was mature, calm colors, basic necessities. The usual stuff. Plus his punching bag that she played with on the occasion. From the windows opening, she could see the moons light shining through. She was a bit surprised to see how dark it had gotten. But, she had no issue with it. Not when she was still alive. She gave Miles a faint smile, “Don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful for a shower.” She chimed jokingly as she set the snacks down onto the bedside table. Then she plopped back down on his bed and wrapped herself up in his blanket. Miles was currently standing in front of his closet, fiddling with a glove from his suit as though he was contemplating something. This caught her attention. Sitting up, she sighed. “So, how exactly did you beat that guy?” She inquired, which caused his eyes to meet hers.

“Threw my motorcycle at him. Knocked him down long enough to get you out.” He said before tossing his glove onto his desk chair and making his way over to the bed. Her jaw was wide at his explanation, surprised at his confession. “Your motorcycle? Are you serious babe? That’s fucking crazy.” He only smirked as his hands intruded the blanket and his arms wrapped firmly around her torso. “I’ll just make another one with Unc.” His weight caused her to fall back on his bed, her head now snug in his pillow. His arms felt comforting around her as his head rested on her chest, his soft breaths managing to calm her down. Her hands found his hair, now fiddling with the ends of his braids. Sure, it wasn’t her first time seeing them, but she certainly thought the style suited him well. “I like them, they’re cute.” She said, which caused him to shift and rest his chin on her chest. He had a satisfied look on his face, one only a victor would wear.

“Knew you did. Mom thought they made me look weird, but eh, I think I like them.”

“Good, they suit you.” She nodded in agreement. They sat in silence for a moment, watching each other with gentle eyes. Her hands scratched lightly at his scalp, managing to make his eyes shut. It would seem that the only time Miles could truly allow himself to feel vulnerable, was around her. After a few minutes of pleasant silence, Miles spoke again, his tone much more serious. “Me dejaste preocupado mami..” He muttered, his words muffled as he burried his face back into her chest. This made her heart ache, her brows knitting with concern. “Mi vida, I’m okay now. You saved me..and my friend. Thank you.” He shook his head. “Next time you run. Call me, I’ll help your little friends. For now though, you’re my main priority.” He proclaimed before sitting up from her chest and leaning up to kiss her lips. “I’m serious Y/N. You run.” He spoke against her lips.

“Okay..” She mumbled, her eyes shut and her hands resting on his jaw. Her lips grazed his, the distance growing tantalizingly close. And finally he pressed back into her, lips meshing into hers as his hands traversed her sides. “So glad you’re okay..” He said in a hushed manner as he poured his love into every movement. His kisses slowly began to lower, finding her neck, then her collar bone, and- she hissed. Wincing beneath him, her body tensed and he froze. His hard stare lingered on her, awaiting a sign to stop or continue. “Sorry, think I got a bruise or something. You can keep going Miles.” He didn’t. Not there.

His hands found her legs, now pulling her thighs apart just enough to get closer to her. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the anticipation of what’s to happen making her giddy with excitement. “Relajate, Y/N. You’re tired and need to rest.” He said as he shifted them around, the two of them now lying on their sides wrapped in one another’s arms. This caused her to sigh, a frown on her face as she glared up at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You just went through a lot, don’t want you hurting yourself more.” He said as he tugged the blanket over their forms.

“Next time don’t start it if you’re not gonna finish it Miles.” She scoffed before scooting into his chest, his familiar scent drawing a small grin from her. “Who said I wouldn’t finish it mami? Just letting you get better first.” She could feel him smirk against her head as he rested his face against the crown of it. His words were enough to silence her, along with the sudden depletion of adrenaline. The two snuggled together, the soft blankets paired with the warmth of one another was enough to make them dreary. “Fine..Goodnight, love you Miles.”

“Te amo ma.”

Taglist? - @willowcxmilee @rinouko @chims-kookies @bbybubbles @supremeshrimpy2 @marice23top @korizzybee @otaku-degenarate @movie-enthusiast22 @corpsebridenightamare @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @marsbars09 @dystop4in14nd @ethanlandrysgf69 @mmxinne @brxght-world @rinisfruity14 @repostingmyfavs @sammarvel123 @idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy @frissy @d4ridi0rsworld @julie03 @sakura-onesan @oh-kurva (Yall I’m never making a taglist again 🙁 props to y’all who do bc this is too much work.)

#x reader #spider man x reader #spider man across the spiderverse spoilers #spider man across the spider verse #prowler #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #fluff

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pucksandpower · 9 months

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if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

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qwimchii · 8 months

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𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 3) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺. 𝘸𝘤 — 7.5𝘬

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 & 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵/𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳), 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨??

note: next part... i liked writing this one 🤭 also for all those wondering: yes the blonde mildly passive aggressive alpha woman is kate laswell <3 i love her with my everything

you rubbed at the temple of your forehead, trying and failing to keep it all together as you watched Simon sew a patch of fabric against a hole in a little pumpkin costume.

biting back a sigh, you fought the heavy frustration on your tongue as you reached over to him, numb to the sensation of your hands brushing against his gloved ones after the past hour of close proximity.

“like this,” you said in an even tone, demonstrating the stitch slowly, and he nodded, taking the needle, looking impossibly small between his fingers, and copied your movements.

leaning back again, you mulled over the day with a bitterness.

when you pulled into the parking lot of the cafe on smith and wellerstation, you had already been having a shitty day, hands clutched tight around the leather grip of the steering wheel. you had spotted Simon, early as ever, by the front window of the cafe, hunched over and enveloped in black, scrolling through his phone.

for some reason, the sight of him only irked you more. and then it mixed in with that muddled feeling of guilt. or sympathy.

you had realized that you didn’t really know what you were feeling as you stepped into the cafe, a soft chime filling the half-vacant establishment. ordering a drink from a barista at the front counter, you glanced over your shoulder to find him staring back at you, ducking his head a little in greeting.

with a flush, you just snapped your head forward again to pay before picking up the steaming mug on the counter and carefully walking over to Simon, perched in a spacious booth that he easily filled.

you exchanged few words and a sorry excuse for a how are you that boiled down to you look tired and you do too. though it wasn’t unkind, you noted, a bit mournful of the fact that you had seen him three times within one week. two days in a row, no less.

pushing the thought away, you brushed your hair back and sat by him to dive into his first sewing lesson. he picked it up quickly, thankfully, and soon enough he was trying it on his own with a long, charged silence that simmered between you.

then, you had picked up your own supplies and a boy’s pirate costume, restitching the seam along the collar of the costume.

all was well and silent until he suddenly broke the silence with a blunt remark. “where do you work?”

you glanced up at him with a stale feeling. all his attention was trained on the tiny costume in his big hands, a look of determination pinching his face. you almost laughed at the sight.

“at my dad’s auto shop.”

he nodded slowly. “you fix cars?”

“no,” you said, returning back to the pirate costume, “i do the finances for fixing the cars.”

you cleared your throat. “what about you? what do you do in the military?”

you could see him glance up at you in your peripheral. “it’s classified.”

brows flying up, and your head snapped up to look at him. “really?”

he made a strange noise between a huff and a snort. “no. i’m special ops. sas.”

“oh.”

you gazed into his face, which betrayed nothing, and shifted in your seat. did Simon Riley just joke with you?

for some reason, you felt one-upped in a strange way.

“does your occupation require you to wear…” you stared at his mask. “...masks?”

his brow furrowed for just a second, and he glared down at the pumpkin costume, but the pinched look smoothed away almost immediately. oops. you didn’t mean to piss him off.

“no. i can take it off if you want.”

“no, no,” you spluttered, feeling embarrassed, “whatever you’re comfortable with is fine with me.”

he just nodded slowly, and from the way his shoulders tightened, you could tell the short conversation had effectively ended. you wanted to smack yourself in the face, but instead you just took a sip of your hot drink with a quiet sigh, looking out the window of the cafe.

it was already getting dark in the late fall hours, the street lights twinkling in the night, brown and orange leaves swirling in the breeze across the sidewalk. you jumped when a familiar girl, clutching at her purse, and scot, hands shoved into his sweatpants, were walking side by side toward the cafe, locked in a riveting conversation.

you watched them enter with a half-dropped jaw, their conversation loud, chattery, and bubbly as it filled the now empty cafe. when Sarah spotted you in the booth beside Simon, she waved with an excitement that had your stomach curdling.

you sent her a weak smile back, looking at her, then to the man beside her. they both strode up and Johnny, like always, gave you a, “hey, lass! how you been doin’?”

you withered into your seat. “good.”

you looked to Sarah with narrowed eyes, expecting a good explanation for this… coincidence. Simon had stilled beside you, looking as equally peeved as you felt, staring up at the two of them.

Sarah must’ve sensed the terse energy in the room because she turned between you and Johnny nervously. “i was just looking for you at your apartment, but you weren’t there, but i happened to meet Johnny in the hallway, and he happened to be kind enough to show me the way to where you are, and—”

eyes flitting to Johnny, you tried to conceal the bitter boil in your stomach that spilled out into your face. snitch, you wanted to hiss at the innocent smile on his face, remembering how he had listened with an intensity to the conversation between you and Simon the other day.

then, Sarah dug around her bag and pulled out her phone, waving it around at you with a weak look. “you weren’t responding to my texts…”

you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the notifications, seeing that she had called you twice and sent about ten texts. oops.

you felt a bit more sympathetic for the guilt dripping off Sarah.

“sorry,” you said, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “i was a bit busy teaching this guy how to sew.”

at that, Johnny’s brows rose slightly, but the look of shock on his face melted off his face as soon as it had been there. you just eyed him with suspicion.

Simon cut in, seeming like he wanted to change the topic of conversation, and said in that gruff, flat voice, “what do you need? is it an emergency?”

Sarah shook her head quickly. “no, no, i just wanted to tell you guys about last minute party plans for tomorrow night. since it’s going to be the weekend…?”

you cocked your head. “party plans for who?”

“for the group,” she said, then added, “but we can invite plus twos. it’s a little fall function at Iris’s place.”

then she gestured to Johnny in a friendly manner and a smile. “so i invited Johnny as well! since he’s your neighbor,” she said, gesturing to you, and then to Simon, “and Johnny’s your coworker! so i thought that’d be fun. right you guys?”

Johnny just grinned at Sarah. for a moment, there was a tense silence, before you exhaled out between gritted teeth. “why didn’t you just text me?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “i did. but i wanted to bring you these.”

she dug around her bag for a moment before sliding a tupperware box of frosted cookies that looked like mini-ghosts.

“a sample for the bake sale. i wanted you to be my taste tester,” she said with a wink, sharing a grin with Johnny, who looked perfectly content with the tense energy of the conversation.

“thanks,” you chewed out, staring down at the sugar cookies. you really were grateful. but with Simon’s presence flush by your side, and Johnny’s eyes darting around the cafe, and flitting over you, you just wanted to shrink away.

“i’ll see you tomorrow then?” she offered, and you nodded, feeling like you were chaining yourself to another death sentence when you said, “i’ll be there.”

Simon nodded beside you, and usually Sarah wouldn’t think it was enough to take that for a yes, but seeming that he barely seemed to talk at all, she gave you both a curt nod of satisfaction before bidding her goodbyes. Johnny gave you a quick farewell, slapping Simon on the back, then turned on his heel and followed Sarah out the cafe.

you both sat in a long unmoving silence, before Simon sighed out heavy and long by your side, taking up the pumpkin costume again. he embodied exactly how you felt, and in a silent truce for peace, you nudged over the tupperware of cookies to him.

he took one, flipping down his mask to eat it before pulling it back up again, and you just returned to your sewing, chewing on soft sugar cookies, a comfortable silence filling the space between you.

it was mid-evening—the setting sun filtering through the foggy clouds above and a teeth-chattering cold falling over the city as you pulled up along Iris’s block.

all you knew about your fellow group therapy member was that she struck gold in college—married a rich guy and lived in a big suburban home. the kind that had a big pool in the back. the kind that you had always wanted as a kid, but ended up more often than not in your dad’s greasy auto repair shop for a good night’s sleep rather than your own home.

you turned off the ignition, sighing out, and lurched out of your car in slow and sluggish movements, making sure to grab the dish of food you made from the backseat. a childhood favorite that your mom used to make.

walking up the steps, you knocked on the big front door, rubbing at your hands, trying to build a friction between them as you shivered at the front door. when no one answered, you reached out to ring the doorbell when—

“cold?”

you jumped with a yelp, jerking around to see Simon standing a step behind you and his hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans. he still had that black surgical mask over the lower-half of his face, but he was wearing one of those leather jacket with a fur lining that looked military issued, dirty blonde hair strewn across his forehead.

he cleans up nicely, you realized with a dry swallow, immediately shaking the thought from yourself.

“Simon, you scared the shit out of me,” you hissed, clutching at the fast thud in your chest.

his eyes flashed, and you could tell he was smirking under that stupid mask of his.

“sorry,” was all he offered, reaching around you to ring the doorbell. his chest brushed against your back and you flinched away from him with flushed cheeks.

you both waited in silence, the wind whistling through your ears, and you could feel him curling over to peer at the dish in your hands. stomach knotted, you twisted away to send him a contorted look.

“what?” you asked, eyes narrowed, suddenly defensive of the tupperware family recipe in your hands as you concealed it from view.

he blinked down at you before stepping back, staring sightlessly forward. “nothin’. smells good is all.”

your mouth dropped open to make a dry reply before the front door finally swung open.

“hey!” Iris greeted with a smile, donned in a fine cashmere sweater and leggings, holding a champagne flute. her husband poked his head out from behind her shoulder, wearing a freshly pressed button up and khaki pants.

you suddenly felt very underdressed in a cheap, thrifted dress.

“come on in,” he said with a sparkling smile, and you thought with a bitterness that he must be one of those guys who does stupid whitening strips or something, which was entirely ridiculous because you had tried them once before, but nonetheless…

“thank you for having us,” Simon said, filling in your silence.

you glanced over at him, wishing you could say that you didn’t need him to speak for you. his eyes flitted over to you, offering nothing but a roll of his shoulders. a motion that you discerned as a dry, sardonic, whatever.

looking back at the party hosts, your brow quirked when you noticed Iris eyeing Simon’s mask warily. and for some reason that irked you.

so you said for Simon, “he’s not feeling too well. don’t want others catching a cold, right?”

she just laughed, airy and long and pinched with unease, waving you off and mumbling something that you couldn’t really hear before she motioned for you to step into the entrance hall. you shucked off your jacket, thanking her husband when he took it, and walked into the house—ginormous and very well-decorated. too well-decorated. like they didn’t even live in their own home.

you hugged your own chest, rubbing over your arms, and startled when you felt Simon at your back. looking back at him, he just slightly raised his brows, before gesturing a hand to step further in the house. you shuffled forward, feeling strangely embarrassed from the close proximity, and followed Iris into the open plan of the living room and kitchen.

there were a lot more people than you recognized in your group, you realized with unease, all chattering loudly as you moved over to the kitchen to put out your dish of family food, taking in the wide-array of charcuterie boards and cocktail shrimp and glasses of pricey alcohol.

a group of men you had never seen before stood in the kitchen, sipping on wine, teeth sparkling, looking trim in ralph lauren and very fit. one caught your eye, sending you a smirk, eyes roaming down your body, then up, before taking a sip of wine.

at that, you bit back a shiver and promptly disappeared into the rest of the people.

you practically deflated when you looked around the room, immediately noting the absence of the big blonde brute at your back—it seemed that he had disappeared just as fast as you wanted to at the moment.

instead, you moved from group to group, giving meek greetings to the girls you recognized who pulled you into hugs. most of the girls were flanked by a male that you had never met before, and you would scurry away just as soon as you would greet them, till you finally came across Sarah and Maya… talking with a man you knew.

“i finally found you,” you said with desperation, clinging to Maya and Sara’s sides. Johnny gave you an amused look, sipping at a beer.

you found yourself uncaring for his presence when you asked them, “why are there so many men here?”

Johnny just laughed and Maya patted at your head, sending you a sympathetic look.

“apparently Iris’s husband was in a frat. they’re ex-college friends,” Sarah explained, her face twisting between amusement and pity, before handing you a wine glass from a platter perched on a table in the hallway. “i would’ve told you if i knew, darling.”

you sighed out. of course. ex-frat boys. your absolute least favorite kind.

“i know you would have,” you mourned, wrapping yourself around Maya’s arm, then took a large gulp of wine.

“i heard you came in with Simon,” Maya said quietly, sending you a look out of her peripheral.

you froze at that, hoping Johnny couldn’t hear you when you whispered, “don’t worry, he’s all yours, Maya.”

she flushed deeply at that, shaking you off of her. “that’s not what i meant.”

you made sure that Johnny and Sarah were still engrossed in their own conversation when you retorted, “that’s definitely what you meant. you think he’s cute?”

wholly enjoying it when she avoided your gaze, you wiggled your brow suggestively at her with a smirk. “or do you think he’s hot? you think he’s sexy, huh?”

you nudged her shoulder. “huh? huh?”

she swatted at you and you laughed, taking more mouthfuls of your wine as the strangest lump sunk from your throat to your stomach. sticking by Johnny, Maya, and Sarah, you felt shielded from the rest of the… males in the room. yet you still couldn’t help but wonder where Simon had disappeared to. you ended up finishing two more glasses of wine with a nervous sort of tick in your stomach.

dashing the outlandish murmurs of thoughts in your head, you let yourself get swept away with the events of the evening… drinking, talking. talking and more talking. drinking.

by the time your group moved closer to the kitchen, you were unbelievable bored as you searched around for the familiar blonde brute, satisfied when you saw him sitting on a barstool at the island in the kitchen, a glass of bourbon in his hand and a couple girls you had never seen before chatting with him at his shoulder.

they were obviously curious, you noticed, rolling your eyes, a bit worried for Maya when she eyed the scene carefully.

as you neared the food spread out over the island, you could hear those same ex-frat boys, speaking obnoxiously loud, and that one who had ogled you earlier was poking around at the food—specifically, your food.

he was prodding at it with a fork, exchanging looks with his friends, choking back on laughter when he said, “who brought the granny food?”

you stilled at that, staring at them laughing at the meal you had cooked.

“isn’t that yours?” Maya asked softly, wide eyes trained on the tense situation at the other side of the room.

when you didn’t answer, Sarah’s face twisted as she stepped forward, her jaw falling open with a pinched look of intent on her face, but you waved a hand at her before she could say anything.

“just don’t,” you said through gritted teeth, embarrassed that Johnny was witnessing the spectacle in silence.

you felt even more embarrassed that Simon, down and across the kitchen island, was staring at them too.

but then he suddenly stood, cutting through the conversation of the invasive girls at his shoulder, and put down his glass of bourbon. “i did.”

the boys down the table fell silent, and the one that ogled you earlier let out a soft oh. Simon snatched a plate from the island and prowled over, towering over the rest of them and loaded up his plate with your food. then, his eyes flit up to yours, dark and murky as he took a bite.

you just closed your eyes and turned on your heel, walked back down the hallway with a mechanic stiffness despite Sarah’s protest. from behind you, you could hear Iris chiding David for being so rude.

you didn’t know who David was, and you didn’t care, till you reached a place in the house where no one else was. a study or office of sorts with big windows and a desk strewn with materials, darker here where there weren’t as many lights, night falling fast.

rubbing at your temples, you tried to slow your breath, pacing around the spacious room. you were seething. Kate would tell you that you were living in a reactionary moment—prolonging a feeling of shock or anger. what really lied underneath that was grief.

or, what you deciphered from the bullshit was that you were being overdramatic. overreacting.

you felt stupid when tears welled up in your eyes.

there were footsteps nearing the office and you quickly wiped at them, expecting to find Sarah or Maya or maybe even Simon but—

it was Iris’s husband.

“hey,” he said softly, clearing his throat, “i’m so sorry about that earlier. my friends can be…”

a sheepish look crossed his face as he scratched at the back of his neck. “...really stupid sometimes. i’m Leo by the way.”

you just gave him a curt nod, sending him a weak it’s fine, but even knew that you sounded entirely unconvincing.

his eyes darted around the room before he added, “i tried your food earlier. i thought it was fantastic. i’m sick of charcuterie boards and cocktail shrimp anyway.”

you laughed at that, thought it came out flat and dead.

when a silence ensued, he asked you, “is that a family recipe or something?”

you nodded, clearing your throat weakly. “my mom made it as a kid. a family favorite.”

he clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels like he didn’t know what to do with the awkward tension of the room. “oh, nice. my mom used to make tuna casserole all the time. i hated it back then, but i love it now, but i can never seem to get it right. and you seem to be great at cooking and all—”

he waved at hand at you and you flushed, thanking him, before another silence followed.

then, there was a new flint of curiosity in his eyes as he stepped towards you. immediately, you edged backwards, a new taste of apprehension coating your tongue.

“remind me of your name again?”

you gave it to him, slowly, and clutched at the hem of your dress, tugging it down further over your thighs.

“your name. it’s pretty.”

you practically squeaked, “thanks.”

he shifted a bit closer to you, so you were just an arm’s length from him now, and you shuffled backwards, panicked when the back of your thighs hit the desk.

“and your dress…” he said, staring down at your body for a long moment, before his eyes flit up over your chest and to your face. “it’s pretty on you.”

your voice was much more strained now. “thank you.”

he tilted his head, almost in a predatory manner. “why doesn’t Iris invite you over more? you seem like such a lovely girl.”

lovely girl. your skin was crawling, eyes darting around the room, terrified that the only exit meant walking straight through him.

“mhmm,” was all you offered, skirting to the side, but he stepped forward again, almost closing the distance between you.

his hand came up like he was going to play with the end of your dress, but it stopped just short, hovering over the skin of your thigh.

“i’m going to go back to the party now,” you whispered, a fear eating you inside and out that sent a dizzy, hazy spiral through your mind. you wanted distance from him. now. forever.

he leaned forward so that he towered over you, much bigger and broader when he was this close—

“so soon?”

his fingertips just barely brushed over the skin of your thigh when a thick, rough voice cut through the room.

“Leo.”

Leo scrambled backwards, clearing his throat as he turned to the person who had just stepped into the room. you almost melted in relief at the sight of Simon by the door.

“your wife is asking for you,” he said slowly, voice low and rough. his eyes were darker now, brows furrowed, and he looked terrifyingly big in the doorway.

Leo just nodded, hands clasped at his back again as he hesitated, head flicking from you to the brute’s gaze that bores into him. “right.”

he strode out the room, not even sending you a glance as he squeezed around Simon who didn’t move an inch, stock still as he stared after Leo.

you almost crumpled to the floor, shrinking as you clutched at the desk for support, legs shaking with effort.

“are you alright?” Simon asked, though he didn’t move any closer to you. the relief in that was like cold water splashing over the panicked heat of your body.

“no,” you admitted, turning your head away when tears spilled down your cheeks.

screwing them shut, you felt a deluge of shame and embarrassment rush over you.

“i wasn’t trying anything with Leo,” you said between sniffles, “i swear i—”

“i know,” he said, cutting you off.

you crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing at your arms as you shook. you tried to stop the shaking, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t stop it.

“you’re shaking,” he observed, voice cracked open with a sort of awe that you had never heard before. maybe shock was a better word.

your breath came labored now, and the room went dizzy, so you slowly skirted around the desk, clutching the wall for support as the floor fell out from under you.

Simon called your name, but it sounded distant and muffled.

“i’m fine,” you said, not able to make out his words that only sounded like mumbles in your ears.

slowly, you slid down the wall, crumpling yourself into a ball and digging your nose into the valley between your knees, a wetness sliding over them from your eyes. you just cried as you rocked, unsure what to do with yourself, feeling like you were going to pass out from the rough breaths that ripped from your lungs.

another body slid down the wall beside you, still far, but their warm fingers hooking on your wrist gently. picking up your head, you shifted out of Simon’s touch, his stoney gaze a marginal distance from your own.

“look,” he said, voice soft, as he put his hand into a loose fist and rubbed in circles over his chest. “like this. calms you down.”

between labored breaths, your arms felt leaden and dead when you contracted your hand into a weak fist, drawing small circles over your chest with great effort.

“it’s okay,” he said, sliding his hand between you across the floor in an offering. you curled your fingers around his hand, your own dwarfed by the sheer size of him, and picked it up to press it to your cheek, feeling cool against the uncomfortable heat on your skin.

in your haze, you realized you had never seen him gloveless before, and his skin against yours felt… right.

you slid his hand over your shoulder and to your waist, feeling his fingers curl around the flesh there, gently tugging your forward, and you let him haul you into his lap, his other arm hooking beneath your knees as he nestled you right into his arms.

he buried you in a tight hold, your cheek pressed to his chest as you continued to rub circles into your chest, trying and failing to slow your breath. you clung to him, a hand curling into the material of his shirt.

you should’ve felt scared, immobilized by a man like this, but you felt impossibly safe, like his arms were the one thing between you and every other dangerous thing in the world.

“listen to me breathe, love.”

his slow breath was grounding, and you tried to match it, forcing the stutter of your lungs to slow. soon enough, you breath was normal once more, and you pulled away from him, crawling off his lap to lean against the wall.

you wiped at the tears that stained your cheeks.

“better?” he asked, and you couldn’t look at him, nodding slowly.

your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, but your body was light and airy, like it was floating off the ground. like you were living in a different world from your own, mind far, far away from your own body. like you could say anything and it wouldn’t matter in the moment.

“it was one of my dad’s friends,” you rasped, voice raw and sore.

when he was silent, you pushed on, “my mom blamed me for it, but i was just a kid. i didn’t know what was happening.”

“my dad didn’t care.” you took a shaky inhale. “he sucked.”

Simon’s hands twitched by his side. “i had a shitty fuckin’ father too.”

you almost smiled at that, thudding your head back against the wall.

“i don’t think i’ll ever recover,” you admitted softly, your heart dropping into your stomach. “i’ll just hate men forever.”

“do you still hate me?” he asked, and you, without hesitation, said, “no.”

he shrugged. “seems like you’ll recover then.”

you stared into the side of face, for the first time, wishing you could look at the other half of his face under the mask properly. it was like you were actually seeing him now, and just how gentle the warmth of his brown eyes could be.

“what are we gonna do?” you said with a mirthless laugh, trained on the softness in his eyes, “we’re so fucked up we can’t even function properly.”

you could tell he was smiling under that mask.

“maybe a support group could help.”

you snorted at that, knowing full well in the two years that you had been in the group, almost nothing had changed for you. at least, not until Simon.

he stood, offering a hand that you took, and pulled you up gently. you practically clutched at his side, glued to him as he led you back to the party that had swelled into full swing now—loud, spooky music from the surround sound in the living room burst forth, and into the late hours of the night, even more strangers filled the space. it was loud and rowdy and you resisted clutching at your ears, fingers wrapping around the cuff of Simon’s sleeve tightly as you squeezed between different people.

Sarah and Maya were still hanging out near the island, Johnny nowhere to be seen, and talking to some other girls in the group. when they noticed you, Sarah launched herself at you and wrapped you up in a tight, squeezing hug that knocked the air from your lungs. Maya regarded Simon shyly, edging around him before hugging you, too.

she whispered quickly into your ear, “we wanted to check on you, but Iris sent Leo to apologize to you. did everything end up being alright? did he apologize? he wasn’t an asshole, was he?”

you just grimaced in her arms, patting her back softly. “don’t worry, everything’s fine,” you reassured her, and the relief on her face was shattering, concern melting from her features.

looking to Simon, you half-expected him to slink away and disappear into the crowd, but he stayed flush to your side, hands in his pockets as he watched you.

you made steady eye contact with him, slightly rising your brows in question, glancing in the direction of the front door, and he just gave you a curt nod.

“we’re going home,” you shouted over the loud music, and Sarah was quick to take your hand.

“with…” her eyes darted over to Simon, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “him?”

ah. you had forgotten that the girls in your group thought that you hated him. or beyond that, just all men in general.

“i’ll be fine,” you promised them, believing yourself for once. “you stay and have fun.”

“if you’re going, we’re going too then,” she said, determined, Maya’s head bobbing beside her in agreement, but you just shook your head.

“really,” you shouted, glancing over to the tall man beside you, who looked as though he wasn’t listening, eyes trained somewhere distantly into the throes of the party, but you knew he was. “i’ll be fine.”

they looked unconvinced but didn’t push you nonetheless. Simon gave them curt goodbyes that boiled down to a nod and a low grunt, and you waved at the other girls from the support group, grateful for their concern as you packed up your food with a wince, avoiding a pair of eyes from across the room—David or whatever his name was. he lifted his glass of wine to you before tipping his head back, downing the contents in a couple quick gulps.

you resisted cursing him out, avoiding making another scene at all costs, as you quickly strode out the house and shoved yourself into your jacket on the way, Simon just steps behind you.

you stepped out into the night, shivering immediately from the biting air against your thighs, and without a word, Simon strung his huge, heavy jacket over your shoulders.

“hey—” you began in protest, but he just casually walked past you and down the steps, sending a look of question over his shoulder.

are you coming or not?

the words went unsaid but you followed him anyway, digging around your bag for your keys and fumbling with them between your fingers once you located them.

once you neared your car, you stopped by the driver’s seat. he waited by the sidewalk, stock still as he watched you.

“i drank a lot,” you said with a grimace, and he just tilted his head.

“i just had a glass. i can drive.”

“no,” you snapped, immediately regretting the force in your tone when his brows just raised slightly. softer, you finished, “i can drive myself.”

he gave you a long look. “right. i’m a woman, and i just had one glass. i can drive, yeah?”

the words were so bizarre coming from him that you couldn’t resist the choke of laughter that escaped your throat, and you tossed your car keys over to him that he caught with ease.

“you fooled me, Simon,” you said with a deadpan, enjoying the way his eyes flickered with a playful gleam in the darkness as you switched places with him, sliding into the passenger seat of your car.

“does that mean i get the aux too?” he asked, voice even and blunt as ever, and you rolled your eyes.

“now you’re pushing your luck.”

you handed the cord to him anyways, and he just glanced at you from his peripheral, and something in your gut told you it was a look of victory.

you ignored it with a smile you tried to smother. he was always one-upping you.

“fancy smashing pumpkins?” he asked, and you nodded weakly, feeling bashful for some reason.

he scrolled down the playlist on his phone and tonight, tonight came blaring through the speakers. you rolled down your window, reaching over to turn it up the volume more.

“feel like a teenager yet?” you shouted over the music, and he pulled down his mask with an amused look, shifting the gear and pulled onto the road. your eyes swept over the curves of his face with a greediness, taking in the strength of his jaw and tall nose because you were actually paying attention to the details of him for once.

“something like that,” he mumbled back, but his words were lost in the music, falling deaf on your ears because all your attention was trained on the small smile that twisted his lips.

by the time you reached your apartment, you had fallen asleep in the car, despite the blaring music. by the time he woke you with a gentle touch to your shoulder, the stereo was turned off, and you stretched up in your seat, shaking the blurriness from your head and blinking through the sleepiness.

you lurched from the car, stepping up onto the sidewalk in front of the townhouse with a yawn, Simon just behind you.

you turned to him with a weak smile. “thank you for driving.”

he nodded. “‘course.”

your eyes darted around, looking back to the entrance, then to him again, and you fumbled with your words.

“do you want to come inside?” then, you flushed deeply. “i know it’s late but—”

he cut you off, sounding almost uninterested. “sure.”

biting down on your lip, you nodded, turning on your heel and shouldering through the heavy entrance with a twist of your keys, making your way up the stairs and down the hallway by his side.

it was surreal that the same experience had occurred only two days prior, and yet a completely new feeling enveloped it. you weren’t scared. you weren’t anxious. you were just…

you looked back at him from over your shoulder, his bare face on display, and glimmering with a few scars you hadn’t noticed before. there was a silvery one slashing through his upper lip.

he must’ve noticed your stare because he cleared his throat, looking away, and you pushed through the entrance to your apartment flushed with embarrassment.

flicking on the lights, you were eternally grateful you had decided to clean up a bit in the early hours of the weekend and moved into the kitchen, putting all your things down on the kitchen table. including Simon’s jacket, you remembered, getting embarrassed all over again as you laid it carefully out, careful not to crease the high-quality leather.

“make yourself at home,” you called out, poking your head through the entrance of the kitchen momentarily to see him standing with an awkward stiffness by the front door. you looked down to his leather boots. “and shoes off please.”

you turned to the fridge to card through its contents, hearing a shuffling behind you, before silence. in a last minute decision, you grabbed two beers and a packet of salted pistachios from the pantry.

“want a beer?” you offered, finding him splayed across your small couch, arm braced against the back.

warily, you sat beside him, curling up into the corner of the couch and pulling your dress further down over your thighs as you handed him a can of beer.

flipping the tab of your can open with a pop, the contents sizzling inside, you took a generous mouthful.

“thanks,” he said, blunt, as he popped open the can with just one hand, tipping his head back to down half of it in a few massive gulps, throat bobbing with each mouthful.

your eyes darted away from the sight, the proximity between you suddenly feeling unbearable, but not a bad unbearable, just…

hot unbearable.

heart thudding, you reached for the remote on the coffee table instead, and flicked on the television. it pulled up your tab on netflix and that most recent k-drama you were watching.

with a squeak, you flipped through the program quickly to get away from it, but Simon was too quick.

“k-drama?”

you eyed him from your peripheral.

“yes.” to take off the edge of your embarrassment, you teased, “why? are you a k-drama kind of guy, Simon?”

he shook his head. “i don’t like ‘em.”

your jaw dropped, spluttering, “you don’t like them? why?”

his eyes flitted to you from his peripheral. “they’re unrealistic.”

you rolled your eyes. “and that’s exactly why i like them.”

“have you never dated before?”

you almost choked on your drink, glaring at the side of his face, willing him to look at you, but he kept his eyes trained forward on the tv.

“yes, i have, actually,” you said, indignant. “have you?”

he turned his head to look at you, head tilting as his eyes flitted up and down your body. you suppressed a shiver, confused by the mixed sensations of your body.

“what do you think, love?”

when you were only silent, his lips twitched, eyes flashing with amusement.

then he mumbled quietly, “i never like the male leads.”

you smothered a laugh, trying and failing to imagine Simon hunkered over in his free time, watching k-dramas on his phone.

“‘cause they’re not you?” you deadpanned, amused just at the thought of it. blonde, tall, and corded with thick muscle. he wasn’t much like any male k-drama lead you knew.

“no,” he said, leaning forward to set his empty can of beer on the coffee table, “‘cause they’re immature.”

your mind reeled at that, recounting the current k-drama you were watching, and finding him not half-wrong.

“you into immature men?” he asked, voice dry with sarcasm.

mocking the deep timbre of his voice, you shot back, “what do you think, love?”

he huffed a laugh of dismay, and you just suppressed a smile, avoiding his eyes.

“you want to know what i think?”

the question had a dripping burn in it that made your skin prickle, insides sliding around with a foreign heat you weren’t accustomed to. when you just shrugged, feigning indifference, you knew Simon’s attentive stare sliced straight through the act.

“i think you just need a mature man who can take care of your needs properly.”

your whole body shuddered, thighs pressing together and stomach twisting with heat. you should’ve been irked by the proposition, angry with him even, but you just clutched tighter at the can in your hand, voice careful and poised. “and you think i can’t take care of my own needs?”

“no,” he said, without a second of hesitation, “but i think that you want to be taken care of.”

you bit down on your lip. “what makes you think that you know what i want?”

“doesn’t everyone want to be taken care of?” he relaxed further into the cushions, head falling onto the back of the couch, gaze lazy as it traced over you.

“do you want to be taken care of?” you asked, setting down your can of beer, uncaring that the hem of your dress had ridden up from the movement. but he didn’t even look down, half-lidded eyes on your face.

“sometimes.”

“do you want me to take care of you?” you asked, voice a whisper as you leaned forward onto your palm, and he was silent for a long moment.

“do you know how to take care of someone?”

your lips pressed together, jaw clenching. “i know enough.”

he gave you a lazy, lopsided smile. “do you even know how to kiss someone?”

at that, you reeled back a bit. was he making fun of you?

a resolute aching pang shot through your chest, and he blinked, sitting up straighter, like you were both just been pulled out of a heady haze that you weren’t supposed to be in. suddenly, this whole situation felt wrong, and not because you didn’t like it, but because it didn’t feel allowed.

“i should go,” he said, face stoney and voice void of anything perceptible.

you quickly nodded, squeaking out, “yeah, you should.”

the words should’ve been sharp and cutting but they only came out strained and confused as you watched Simon stand from the couch.

he strode over to the kitchen, snatching his jacket from the table and throwing it on while shoving into his boots once more. you pushed yourself up from the cushions, hands twitching by your sides.

he sent you a strange look from over his shoulder and jerked the door open with a roughness you didn’t know he could carry.

“bye,” you said weakly, and he hesitated in the entrance.

“thanks for…” he glanced towards the living room, and you sent him a confused look, looking back at the cans of beer and nuts on the coffee table.

“oh,” you said, turning back to him, “no problem—”

but the entrance was empty, and you stuck your head out into the hallway to see him already a marginal distance down the hall. cursing, you grabbed a random shoe from the rack by the doorway and shoved it into the crack of the door, rushing after him.

“wait!” you called, and he turned, slowing as you approached him.

your stomach a fit of nerves, you fisted the material of his nice jacket, uncaring if you crinkled the leather as you pulled him down, and stood on your tiptoes to press a brief kiss to his cheek.

when you slowly lowered back down to the floor, Simon only stared at you with that same stoney, blank look.

“thank you,” you said softly, and he just kept staring at you.

with a deep blush, you released him, and his footsteps were uneven when he turned and almost stumbled down the stairs. you yelped, heart clenched with worry, but he steadied himself against the rail and shot down the stairs with a speed that you didn’t know was possible, blonde head disappearing from view.

you stood there in the hallway for a long moment, fiddling with your dress. what the hell was that?

you gripped at the roots of your hair, suppressing a scream. what the hell was that?

turning and marching back down the hall, you kicked the shoe from the crack, slipping inside. but before the door shut, you poked your head out once more to see if Simon would reappear from the top of the stairs.

when he didn’t, you let out a strangled noise of frustration, and slammed the door shut, promising yourself you’d never let yourself slip like that again. promising yourself you’d never let yourself get that close in proximity to a man ever again. promising yourself you wouldn’t even look in the direction of another one of those things. not ever again. not even for Simon.

your honor... they’re flirting in their idk-how-to-interact-with-opposite-gender-way-bc-of-trauama 🌚 also i feel like soap is such a flat character in this series rn he's just kinda there 😭 but dw he gets more interesting later on (hopefully?)

taglist: @kenma-izhu @actuallyhiswife @froggielottiee @neenieweenie @delaynew @ilovehyperfixating @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @tomorrowseverything @moonlqths @ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley @keiva1000 @arminarlertssword @crowbird @jasonloveclub @karurururu

@embers-of-alluring @newsies-pape-girl @suhmie @amberpanda99@mystsee @cosmoscoffee @hunterofhonor @wawuwe @kunikku @corvusmorte @hearts4sky @aloudplace @justletmelivethanks @shadowdaddysposts @leclercdreams @ayanokomu @thedevillovesflowers @thisuserloveshalloween @soundsfunbutno @enfppixie @tired-bi-ass@http-paprika @xaestheticalien

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spooky-wisp · 1 month

Text

"I had to talk to you."

Repost from other account

2.4k words

CW: Heavy flirtation, canon divergence (S4 end events didn't happen), College Student!Steve, Steve has shit eyesight

October 13th, 1989

Steve sighs, leaning back on the drivers side of his 1983 BMW. Burgundy paint starting to chip on the hood, the car becoming less appealing day by day. Girls passing by not even looking in his direction anymore. He was old news in Hawkins after people found out he had finally started at a college half an hour away in Fort Wayne. Just starting his life like everyone else did 4 years ago just wasn't appealing to most girls.

At least not Hawkins girls.

But at this point he didn't care. He was proud of himself for pulling his life together after all the bullshit he had been put through. With saving an entire town too many god damn times. Cutting his dad off when his parents divorced. Moving out to get a rented house with his best friend Robin. Just what he learned he needed over time.

Getting into a good school by himself with no help was just a cherry on top of the fuck you sundae he graciously served his past problems.

He was satisfied with what he had right now.

Dustin walks out of the new game shop in the newest strip mall to grace Hawkins. Steve looks up, pushing his Ray-Ban sunglasses onto his head.

"You made it out before, Robin. I'm surprised." Dustin glanced at the instrument shop a few doors down, then back to Steve. "You get what Eddie needed?"

"Mostly yeah. She's still getting her trumpet fixed?" Steve shrugs at Dustin's question and slides his sunglasses down in place again.

"She probably got distracted looking at something shiny and new. You know Robins crow brain sometimes." Dustin laughs, looking into his bag, shuffling a few things around inside.

Steve looked over at the liquor store at the end of the strip mall. Looking back at Dustin, he taps the top of the car. His head snapped up, eyes a bit surprised at the sudden noise.

"You want anything?" Steve asks, tilting his head back towards the store.

"Coke? If they got it." Dustin simply replied before getting in the back seat. Steve nods and walks to the liquor store.

The bell chimes over his head as he walks through the door. He takes in the warmth of the store and the radio playing over the speakers on the ceiling. Such a nice contrast to the crisp Autumn air outside.

He turns heading down an isle of assorted liquor bottles and bar accessories before finally stopping at the fridge. Humming along to the song over the radio, mumbling the lyrics to 'I wanna know what love is' absentmindedly.

Sliding his glasses down his nose, he squints at the selection. All the labels are blurry the farther he is, he steps forward rubbing his eyes and sure doesn't help with the florescent lighting blinding him from above.

God I need to get my eyes checked.

Opening the fridge, he grabs the 3 soft drinks and a 6-pack for later when he hears a metal scrapping and whoosh next to him. Followed by a muffled but panicked "Shit!"

Looking over, he sees the back of a squatting woman struggling with a metal shelf slipping out of one of the fridges.

Walking over, he quickly puts his things down and pushes the shelf back in. The metal shelf, cold against his warm skin as he reaches into the fridge, fixing the fasteners back into place.

An issue he's all too familiar with working at Family Video. The fridge racks always got loose and every time it happened he was always made to clean them up. He could only imagine the mess a bunch of glasses and beer would have made.

"Thank you so much!" The woman speaks as Steve stands up, slowly closing the door. Looking back, he finally sees your face. His lips slightly part as you continue talking, he can't hear a word you're saying right now.

All he can hear is the very oddly convenient Foreigner song playing over the store radio as he takes in every detail of your gorgeous face. From your shiny hair to your bright smile. The vibrant colored nail polish on your fingers you're waving as you talk. You're unfamiliar, he's never seen you before, but you're an absolute stunner of a woman.

Steve never thought of himself as a love at first sight kind of guy. But right now he was undoubtedly being proven wrong by the spark he was feeling, not to mention the nervous knot in his stomach.

"But really you're a life saver... Thank you." You stop talking, looking at him. Your face falls as he perks up, realizing he's just been staring like a complete idiot this entire time.

"You're welcome!" He spoke, choking almost over how inappropriately loud he was for a second. Feeling the effect of not talking to women for a while really hit him. You look down at his soon-to-be purchases.

"Full Sail Amber. Good beer." You comment, making him look at the floor and nod.

Crouching down, he grabs his things and stands cracking his head on one of the fridge door handles. His sunglasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He stands up wedging his soft drink between his side and arm. Rubbing his head with a hiss.

"You okay?" You ask with a slight chuckle. Bending down, you grab the sunglasses, Steve moves his hand, grabbing the bottom of the door handle to shield your head from injury.

"Yeah, thanks." Before he gets to put his hand out to take his Ray-Bans back, you slide them on his head with a soft smile.

God she's so fucking pretty.

"You're welcome. And thanks again for... Saving me from paying for a full shelf of beer." She turned down the isle to another part of the store.

Part of Steve wants to follow you and try chatting you up, but the slight embarrassment of hurting his head just keeps him from doing so.

He turns, goes to the front of the store and makes his purchases. Heading outside, he walks to his car, finally seeing Robin in her usual spot, the passenger seat. Opening the driver's door, he slips in.

"There you are!" Robin looked at him, her trumpet case in-between her legs on the floor of the car.

"What's with the face?" Dustin asks, Steve looking at him in the rearview, glaring.

"Shut up Henderson." He hands them their sodas, moving to close his car door when he hears the bell from the liquor store chime.

Out you walk, starting across the parking lot to a top-down red 86' Volkswagen Cabriolet. Steve freezes, staring again. He really can't help but stare.

"Oooh." Robin and Dustin both taunt him, making him sigh. He needs more friends, fewer annoying friends.

"She's pretty." Robin says looking at Dustin.

"Too pretty to talk to, apparently." Dustin adds, laughing as he looks back at Steve.

"I talked to her in the store." Dustin raised his eyebrows, pushing his baseball cap up a bit.

"You asked her out?"

"No." Steve watches you load your bag into the back seat and start pulling the top up on your car.

"Not too late!" Robin smiled, taking a sip of her drink. Dustin looked at her.

"He's not gonna do it."

"No, he's gonna do it."

Steve feels like he has a devil and an angel bickering on his shoulders right now. His foot meets the new asphalt of the parking lot as you open your driver's door.

He's quickly out of the driver's seat.

"Holy shit he's doing it." Dustin comments as he shuts the door on them.

He stops at the bumper of his car, hearing your car engine click over. Music pours out of your open windows before you turn it down quickly.

The universe is screaming at him to talk to you when he starts hearing that familiar Tears for Fears song, 'Head Over Heels'.

Please don't pull away, please don't pull away.

He nearly sprints across the parking lot out of fear of missing his chance. Upon reaching the car, he knocks on the back window, pulling you from looking for something in the console.

"Hi..." He says awkwardly, approaching the window. Leaning on the door, he smiles as you smile back.

"Hi. You need something?" He gets so agitated that you smirk up at him.

'Why'd you have to be so God damn pretty?'

"Sorry if this is weird, but I had to talk to you." He started, finally being able to say something. Your eyes go half shut with a soft nod.

"Talk to me?" He nods, clenching the door frame for a second. "Go ahead then. Talk."

His eyes go wide in surprise at your sudden confidence. Steve stammered for a second.

"Uh... At the risk of sounding crazy or desperate... You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." You can feel your body warm up as he gives the most genuine smile you've seen on a man in a while.

"Mmhm, go on."

"Are you by chance single? Or like... Are you even attracted to men at all?" He asks, sheepishly smiling.

"Yes, and yes." Your smirk slowly turns into a grin as he squats to eye level now, feeling a bit more confident after your answer.

"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington." He smiles again hearing you reply with your name. "Are you new to Hawkins?"

"I am actually. I just moved here from the city and needed to stay nearby for school."

"Where are you going?"

"Trine University." His eyes go wide, the same school he goes to. What are the odds?

"Really? I actually go there too. Education major." You look him up and down. You never pegged him for the teacher type.

"Software Engineering major."

"So you're smart and gorgeous. Good to know." He smirks, finally feeling like himself when talking as your flush finally becomes noticeable. "You like movies?"

"What kind of psychopath doesn't like movies?" He laughs at your response, leaning in closer to the window.

"Lemme be more specific. The new Halloween 5 movie came out today. You interested in seeing it? Maybe with me tonight at the drive-in theater in Lafayette. We can have dinner after. All my treat, of course." He can see the sparkle in your eyes, that spark he felt looking at you before is still lingering around him.

"What's in it for me?" You playfully ask. He cocks his head to the side, leaning it on his arm for a second.

"A fun night out with a gentleman, I promise I'm fun." You chuckle, rolling your eyes, he knows you want to say yes. "Please?"

He'd never said please before when asking a girl out. It didn't feel embarrassing like he thought it would. You turn your attention back to the console looking for something.

Pulling out a napkin and pen, you quickly write down your number and address. Turning back, you hold it out to him as he takes it.

"I'm free at 8. And dress nicely. You're taking me somewhere decent after the movie."

"I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find if that's what you want. I don't care. As long as I get to see you again." You laugh at his bluntness, it's like music to his ears.

"That won't be necessary. I don't need to be spoiled."

"What if I want to spoil you?" That caught you off guard as you didn't respond right away. He let a soft breath escape his mouth. "You like roses?"

"White roses." You reply, he nods, standing up again and folding the napkin, storing it in his back jean pocket for safe keeping.

"I'll be sure to remember that." You two just stare at each other in silence for a minute. No man's ever looked at you like Steve has right now, it makes your heart race from nervousness.

"I'll see you at 8 o'clock then." You look past him for a moment and back to him. "Tell your friends I said hello since they like to stare so much."

Raising an eyebrow, Steve turned his head. He sees Robin poking her head over the roof of the car and Dustin sitting on the rolled down window frame. They quickly hurry back into the car, noticing they've been caught. He should be embarrassed, but he fully expects their behavior from being friends for so long.

"Ignore them." Steve says, sighing as he looks back at you. "I'll see you at 8."

He turned away towards his car, trying to stay as confident as he was before turning his back. Reaching his car, he pops the door open, clutching it for dear life as he silently collects himself. Robin poked her head across the driver's seat to look up at him.

"You good dude?" She asks, concerned but also excited as he just nods.

You pull out of your parking spot, stopping behind his car and honk once to get his attention. Dustin pops his head out the back window as Robin looks out her open door. Steves head snaps up at you as you lean on your window frame, chin on fist with the most shit eating grin on your face.

"See you at 8 sexy~" You called to him. And then you have the balls to blow him a kiss before peeling out of the parking lot.

Steve silently gets in the car. Robin shuts her door as Steve does his. Dustin sits forward looking at Steve, who's just gripping his steering wheel, the adrenaline starting to wear off.

"Dude, she's so into you, into you!" Dustin breaks the silence as Robin nods.

"And I'd say it's the same for Harrington here." Robin grins as a massive smile spreads across Steve's face.

He starts excitedly thrashing frontwards and backwards. Enough to shake the car and look like he's about to rip the steering wheel from it's column. He lets out an excited yell, causing his two friends to laugh at him.

He let out a long breath, looking at them.

"She says hi by the way."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things x reader

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transvampireboyfriend · 9 months

Text

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

"I'm just saying, if the heat bothers you so much, you could cut your hair" Nancy points out, after declining Eddie's pleas for her spare scrunchie.

Robin sits on Nancy's lap, clutching the back of Steve's seat and she looks at Steve through the side mirror like she's afraid that he's about to go on a mission to defend Eddie's honor or something but Steve rolls his eyes at her. He's not that gone.

Or at least he knows how to hide it well.

Eddie's lost several of Nancy's favorite hair accessories and two weeks ago she bowed to never lend him any ever again.

Which, does not stop Eddie from asking her anyway at least once a day.

But the point is, even if Steve wanted to, Eddie's honor cannot be defended in this situation.

Nancy's leaning behind Argyle's back now to glare at the metalhead. Steve can see them in the rearview mirror.

Eddie gasps "I would never" he says, clutching his chest dramatically.

Steve secretly breathes a sigh of relief.

Johnathan chuckles at the wheel. "But you could" he comments, eyes on the road.

Steve can see Argyle subtly laughing and shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

Today is a rare occasion, Jonathan is driving them in Steve's car.

The goal of Steve's rant earlier about having to drive them everywhere was to get Eddie to drive them, so Steve could sit shotgun and watch Eddie drive.

Instead, Jonathan had offered first and then Steve couldn't go in the backseat because he's in charge of their map.

But whatever, this is fine too. He trusts Jonathan and it is nice to get a break and to be able to fully turn around when he's talking to someone in the backseat.

"Jon, I would lose all my sex appeal, you don't get it" Eddie answers, getting a box of Twinkies from one of the many bags they packed and placed on the floor of Steve's car.

"I get it" Argyle chimes in, watching Eddie pull out a Twinkie and shaking his head no when Eddie offers him one.

"You'd still be sexy with short hair" Robin comments from her seat on Nancy's lap.

Everyone turns to look at her.

"What?" she shrugs "I can say that"

Nancy chuckles into her shoulder.

Steve opens their map again to stop thinking about Eddie's 'sex appeal', even as the guy is excitedly munching on a Twinkie in the backseat of Steve's car.

He's got cream in the corner of his mouth and he clearly put more in his mouth than he can comfortably chew. He's leaning one elbow on Argyle's shoulder, his hand holding half a Twinkie, his other hand holds his mop of hair up in a high bun, causing his cut off tank to sit barely covering his nipples, his tattoos on display and his armpit hair fully visible.

Steve's fairly certain nobody else in this car would get it, but to him the sight is mouth watering. The guy is practically irresistible.

"I don't think i would've gone on even half the dates I've gone on if i didn't have my hair" Steve muses, for something to say and to add to Eddie's point, even though he agrees with Robin.

Almost everyone answers with agreeable noises, except Eddie and Robin.

Robin snorts and says "You are relentless"

While Eddie says "You don't get dates for your hair" at the same time. In a tone that suggests he thinks this is an obvious thing.

"I mean- it doesn't hurt" provides Nancy, she sends Steve an apologetic look but Steve waves her off. It's a compliment as far as he's concerned, he loves his hair.

Eddie finishes his treat and opens a new one while everyone else gives their opinions.

"For a lot of people, hair is a big part of attraction" Jonathan is saying, trying to seem like he's not speaking from experience.

"Especially hair as luscious as Steve's" Argyle agrees, leaning forward to lightly comb the side of Steve's hair, making him laugh.

"Thanks, man" Steve says overlapping Eddie's response.

"And I agree!" he exclaims "I'm saying he doesn't get dates because of his hair." Eddie goes on, waving his new Twinkie around for emphasis. "People throw themselves at Steve, and always will, but it's not because of his hair" he repeats.

Steve feels his cheeks heat up but still asks "Then why?"

"Well, because you're very pretty!" Eddie answers easily, like everyone should already know this.

Steve keeps his eyes carefully trained on the map, like he needs to study it meticulously, right this moment, while they're in the middle of a highway.

His cheeks are burning up and he can feel it spreading to his ears.

"And that's if they don't know you!" Eddie continues "If they do know you they know you're kind and brave and strong ...and generous and funny. Who wouldn't want all that in a date?" Eddie finshes.

Oh I don't know, you? Maybe? Do you? Steve thinks.

"Even bald, people would still go crazy for you" Eddie adds, his words slightly muffled towards the end as he shoves almost all of the new Twinkie in his mouth but apparently thinks better of it, biting all but a small piece.

"Here. You want the rest of this?" Eddie offers Steve, talking through his mouthful, and presenting the small piece with his ringed fingers, right in front of Steve's face.

Without thinking, Steve leans forward and takes it with his mouth, his lips burning where they touched Eddie's fingers.

As Eddie retrieves his hand Steve realizes what he just did and how quiet the car got.

He sends Robin a panicked look through the side mirror as Jonathan awkwardly clears his throat.

"Argyle's got nice hair" Robin tries.

The car immediately fills up with enthusiastic agreement and Steve slowly breathes out.

He can't bring himself to look at Eddie as he chews on his bite. He practically licked Eddie's fingers. Unprompted! The guy probably meant for Steve to grab the treat and then eat it. If he even accepted it at all!

Steve feels like an idiot and he frowns at the map again, willing himself to ignore the goosebumps in his arms and the tickling on his lips.

He doesn't see Eddie worriedly staring at him for the remaining of their conversation, until Nancy takes pity on him and offers up her spare scrunchie to distract him.

part 2

#if there's one thing you should know about them is this: they are sooooo dumb <3 #steddie #steveddie #steddie headcanon #stranger things #.#i hope the car configuration isn't too confusing here #also i didn't tag the other ships bc they're so minimal and I don't wanna clog those tags #also this could be platonic. or it could be polycule. you decide :)#i might have a part two but don't tell #also if this by some curse this is seen by someone who was there when i acted like Eddie is acting here SHUT UP #this is fictionalized and NOT YOUR BUSINESS #steddie lake fic

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loveharlow · 8 months

Text

LIVE BAIT

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader, Topper Thornton x Fem!Reader (one sided)

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [4.1k] Left alone with Topper while Rafe is out, his best friend seems to take a shot at you...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, dark!rafe, gullible!reader, sexual coercion/manipulation, deception, cheating, yelling, manhandling, implied murder/attempted murder

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU SAT ON THE COUCH IN RAFE’S LIVING IN NOTHING BUT ONE OF HIS SHIRTS, WATCHING TV AS HE EMERGED FROM DOWN THE HALL. He had his phone and car keys in hand, the jingling of the metal causing your eyes to drift from the flashing of digital colors to him.

“Are you leaving?” You inquired, leaning your weight on one arm as you sat up on the couch slightly.

“Yeah, something came up but it won’t take long.” You frowned as you watched his frame edge closer to the front door of The Cameron Residence, his hand on the doorknob as he turned around to look at your half-dressed figure on the sofa. “Go put some pants on. Topper’s still coming by.”

You wanted to groan at his statement. “Can’t he hang out with Kelce? He always want to hang with you. Doesn't he have other friends?”

“He’s still upset about Sarah leaving him and he thinks she’ll pop up around the house. Look just, don’t say anything about her around him. Alright?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, mumbling something about Topper being annoying before turning away from him to face the TV once again, fully prepared to hear the slam of the front door signaling his absence. You never heard that confirmation, however. Instead, you were met with the feeling of Rafe’s calloused hand on your jaw just before you registered his quick footsteps, the man using his firm grip to tilt your head back where you were greeted with the sight of him staring you down.

“Drop the attitude. If I have to put up with you, you have to put up with him. So fix your damn face and be nice.” He told you sternly and in a hushed tone before releasing his grip and allowing your face to drop, the strain on your neck easing itself out. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the way his words stung in the slightest of ways. You could hear his heavy steps following their path back to the front door, the alarm system chiming and hinges creaking as he opened the door. “And I’m serious, go put some pants on.” Was all he said before you heard the slam of the front door.

NOT EVEN THIRTY MINUTES HAD PASSED SINCE RAFE LEFT. You’d resistantly done as he said, going into his bedroom and finding a pair of shorts you’d left here and tugging them on, despite them being swallowed by his shirt anyway, barely able to tell you were wearing them.

You were on the sofa again, laying on your back as you scrolled through your phone when suddenly, you heard the lock on the front door being twisted, mechanisms clanking against each other and echoing out in the expanse of the room. Head twisting towards the noise, a stream of sunlight welcomed itself in as Topper walked into the home, carefully closing the door behind himself.

Turning around, he was visibly startled by your face peeking above the back of the couch. “Oh, hey.” He breathed out, realizing it was just you. “I forgot Rafe said you’d be here, too." He spoke absentmindedly. "Where is he, by the way?” He questioned, walking around to stand in front of your outstretched frame.

You politely slid your feet off of the length of the furniture, clearing a space for him to sit next to you. You were both on two opposite ends of the couch and you didn’t miss the way he eyed the length of your exposed legs, tongue coming out to lick the corner of his mouth.

“He had to do something, said he’d be back soon.” You responded back, mainly giving your attention to your phone as you leaned against the arm of the couch and tried not to look at him. It was mildly awkward in the space — seeing as you’d only ever really interacted with Topper when your boyfriend was around and now that it was just you two, there was a tension that clouded the room. Rafe always served as an icebreaker and he wasn't here to break the ice.

Topper hummed in response. Eventually, you turned off your phone, diverting your attention to the TV and that was when you noticed it — Topper’s eyes fleeting to you every couple of seconds in your peripheral. Your legs were curled up underneath you and his eyes roamed your figure, up and down with little shame. This went on for a couple minutes until he spoke up.

“When did you say Rafe would be back again?”

Your wide eyes drifted to the blonde on the far end of the couch, nervously going between him and the program that was playing low in the background. “Oh, um, I didn’t. But he should be back soon.”

Only then did you notice Rafe had been gone for a fair amount of time. But it wasn’t anything new. Knowing him he could be back within the next five minutes or five hours, not a care in the world that you were stuck in the house with his best friend who wouldn't stop staring at you. Was there something on on your shirt? Did he want to say something?

“You know, he might be helping his dad. I heard something happened to one of the construction sites. A roof collapsed or something.” He told you, sitting up straighter. “...That could take a while.”

“Oh.” You said apprehensively. “If that’s the case then yeah, he might be a while. I can go to his room so you can have this space to yourself-”

“No, no,” Topper interrupted, dragging himself closer to you across the couch, now only inches away. Your back ached as you pressed yourself against the armrest, his sudden close proximity startling you. “I don't mind. We can keep each other company.” He spoke lowly, eyes boring into yours. One of his hands came up to caress your thigh, his fingers gliding across the flesh as your heart thumped in your chest. You didn't feel comfortable with that.

“It’s just that, I’ve been having a really hard time getting my mind off of Sarah, y’know? I could use the company.”

“I heard about that…” You mumbled.

The boy scoffed. “The whole island has. She really embarrassed me and it’s just been hard trying to act like I’m okay.” His eyes were on your lips now, eyeing them as he spoke. “But I think you could help distract me…”

You suddenly felt uneasy but also somewhat bad for him. As much as she had the rights to, Sarah had embarrassed Topper to quite the extreme. Not only did she dump him, but she was now dating a pogue who demeaned him at every given chance. It was a rivalry, of course. So, you couldn’t imagine his anger.

“Distract you…how?” Was the first thing that rolled off your tongue, the hand that was kneading your thigh coming up to gently grab your wrist.

“You could start by solving the problem you’ve created,” He said enigmatically, dragging your limp palm to rest against the crotch of his pants where you could feel a prominent erection poking through the fabric. The action set off alarm bells in your mind, quickly tugging your hand away and pushing yourself further up the couch.

Shaking your head side to side, you spoke a mile a minute. “I think I gave you the wrong idea. I didn't- I don’t think Rafe would be okay with this-”

“He is.” Topper blurted, cheeks turning red.

“...He is?”

“He would be. I’m his best friend, right? You gotta trust me, I know him better than anyone. Plus, he would be proud of you for helping out his friend. I know he would.” The boy explained.

Topper wasn’t a fool but he knew that you could be. Not a fool necessarily...gullible would be a better phrase. To some people, you seemed bimbo-ish — a pretty face with not a clear thought behind your eyes. He always thought that was why it was so easy for Rafe to walk you the way he did. Rafe had you wrapped around his finger and there was no doubt that he loved you, though it may not always seem evident.

Topper had always thought you were desirable and secretly admired the way you absentmindedly submitted to Rafe without hesitation, he didn’t know whether it was out of fear or love, or both. All he knew was that look that you got in your eyes whenever Rafe was around, that pleading, doe-eyed look you sported in the presence of your boyfriend was something he’d wanted to see up close and personal for a long time now. You were a craving, a sexual fantasy that Topper could never have. Not until now, anyway.

And if he had to spew a couple little white lies to get you to spread your legs, then he was going to do whatever it took. And Rafe would never have to know. Because he wanted you more than he feared Rafe.

“You really think so?” You questioned the validity of Topper’s claims, the only thing on your mind was the reward you’d possibly receive for helping your boyfriend’s best friend feel just a little bit better in the face of heartbreak.

“I know so. In fact, Rafe...actually suggested it.”

That statement made your gut twist. You didn’t know why, but it just did. It didn't sound like something Rafe would do, but Topper said he knew Rafe better than anyone. You guessed that included you.

“Well, if it’s okay with him then…”

The blonde smiled at this, his hands moving your waist and prying your frame off of the edge of the couch, practically yanking you into his lap. His blue eyes running between your pupils and your lips before he crashed his mouth against yours, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between them. You yelped into the exchange, the frantic neediness of it all catching you off guard.

You maneuvered your legs into a more comfortable position, now straddling his lap as his boner pressed directly against your core through the thin fabric of your shorts. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this — he was so much different from Rafe. You were used to the way Rafe loved you — the firmness in the way he kissed you, the small grunts he would let out in between each one, how he would eventually trail his kisses down the valley of your neck, the valley of your breasts, down your stomach.

Why didn’t he give Topper any kind of pointers when he suggested this? Probably because this is more for Topper than it is for you, you thought. This wasn’t for you at all, actually. You were a distraction. Or so you’d been told.

His tongue roamed the inside of your mouth, the warm muscle circling as it waited for your own to do the same. You tried to focus on pressing your lips against his with the same pressure, but you could never seem to catch whatever wavelength he was on. Eventually, he pulled back, his lips red, wet, and swollen.

Your eyes tried to catch his but they were laser focused on your collarbone that was peeking out above Rafe’s shirt. His hands balled into fists, balling up the fabric that you wore into them and pulling it over your head and dropping the garment to the floor, leaving the ‘v’ of your breast exposed to him. The bra you had on pushing them up, making them look plump. You didn’t miss how Topper bit his lip as one of his hands came up to fondle one of the rounds of flesh, his hips bucking up into you as he did so.

His hands circled your back, coming into contact with the clasp of your bra, ready to undo the item and let it fall until he seemingly decided against it, mumbling something about not wanting to make too much of a mess.

He was much more silent than Rafe. Rafe was not one to keep quiet during intimacy, always groaning, or swearing, and whispering something so dirty into your ear that you couldn’t help but moan out loud, arching into him.

The boy stood up with you on his lap, holding you up by your behind as to not drop you. With you in his arms, he turned as he stood up, gently laying you on the couch on your back. He wasted little time in dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs together, leaving you exposed and on display for him, a cool breeze passing between your legs.

“Shit…” Topper cursed under his breath as his eyes were glued to your dripping core. You were slightly confused when his hands immediately went to the button on his pants, undoing the closure and shoving the clothing down his legs, the fabric pooling around one of his ankles as he didn’t even bother to completely remove them.

He propped one leg up on the couch, the other planted on the floor as he pulled you closer by the hips. Using one of his hands, he guided the tip of his cock that was leaking with precum to your entrance. He teased himself before actually pushing it in, rubbing the head of it against the wetness that was dripping from you and onto the sofa, surely leaving a wet patch beneath you. Gliding it up and down, stopping to circle your clit before eventually pushing into you.

You let out a soft gasp, feeling a slight throb of pain as he stretched you out. You watched the boy carefully above you, one of his hands now outstretched as it gripped onto the armrest behind your head, eyes rolling back as his hips stuttered when his dick hit your cervix.

The intrusion didn’t feel bad but it didn’t feel great either. You didn’t know if it was because this was a foreign thing or because he just wasn’t Rafe.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you like this…” He muttered, almost mindlessly, under his breath. Eyes clouded over with pleasure as he drew his hips back slowly, only to push back in at an equally slow pace.

The statement threw you, prompting you to question his real motives but Topper was a genuine person, right? And he wouldn’t lie to you for no reason, especially not for his own gain…

Right?

He told you that you were just helping him take his mind off of Sarah, that this wasn’t wrong. So, you were taking his word for it. More than his word, actually. Topper wasn’t just Rafe’s friend, he was yours too, wasn’t he?

Topper’s slow pace wasn’t something you were fond of, you quickly realized. Your orgasm not even beginning to build but you kept quiet. This was to help him, not you. He was breaking out into a light sweat despite his slow momentum, biting harshly into his lips concealing any noise he may have made, veins protruding from his biceps as his grip on the headrest grew deathly.

It wasn’t long before he came, not bothering to pull out as he did so, letting his seed fill you up, some of it hitting the inside of your thighs as he pulled out. When he seemed to have emptied himself out, he barely acknowledged you as he retreated away, standing fully from the furniture as he shuffled his pants back up his legs.

His breathing was shallow and his face was flushed, he didn’t even bother to clasp the button on his pants back together before he was making his way down the hall, presumably to the guest bathroom to get himself together.

You steadied your own breaths, labored from the unfamiliar experience rather than exhaustion or pleasure. Carefully, you sat up straight on the couch, shimmying your panties and shorts back onto both of your legs and dragging them back up to your waist, trying to ignore the way the fabric smeared his cum against your thighs. Topper’s secretion was still dripping out of you, making the fabric against your center uncomfortable — hot, sticky, and scratchy.

Fishing around on the floor, you retrieve Rafe’s shirt that had been abandoned in the beginning, slipping the loose fabric back over the length of your body.

Assuming Topper had gotten what he needed and your job here was done, you headed upstairs, prepared to shower in Rafe’s room.

You tried to ignore that feeling in your gut that had been bubbling since Topper put his hand on your thigh. You just couldn’t put your finger on why you felt so bad about doing a good thing.

BY THE TIME RAFE HAD RETURNED, TWO HOURS HAD PASSED. You’d cleaned yourself up, just throwing on another one of Rafe’s old graphic tees and a pair of sweatpants. When you’d returned downstairs after your shower, Topper was sitting comfortably on the piece of furniture as if nothing had happened. However, when you went to sit down, he’d tried to beckon you over to lay under his arm. You’d politely declined.

So, you both sat in silence once again. Topper put on a movie to watch while you went right back to scrolling on your phone, getting a text from Rafe about an hour into the movie that he was on his way back.

When he’d finally gotten back, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest, shooting your boyfriend a giddy smile as he shut the door behind him.

“Rafe!” You practically cheered, hopping off of the couch and skipping over to where he was kicking his shoes off at the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry that took so long…” He apologized mindlessly, eyes finally landing on you. “I’m glad you’re in a better mood.” He spoke, squinting his eyes with mild suspicion. His gaze drifted to Topper’s figure draped over the far end of the couch, jutting his head in his direction in greeting. “‘Sup, Top.”

“What’s good?” Topper replied nervously, not even able to maintain full eye contact with his friend. Rafe found it weird, making a face of confusion before ultimately letting it go. His eyes shifted back to where you stood in front of him, winding his arms around your waist, similar to how Topper had just hours ago.

Only Rafe’s touch was familiar — more comforting. The dirty blonde leaned down to press his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly for a few moments before pulling back as his eyes looked you up and down. His hands never left your waist as he walked you backwards towards the sofa. “Did you change?”

You glanced down at yourself, forgetting that you probably looked different than you did when he walked out of the door hours ago. You opened your mouth to reply honestly. You didn’t think what had gone down between you and Topper was some top-notch secret. After all, he said Rafe had suggested it. “Um, yeah. I just wanted to clean myself up after helping Topper out.”

Rafe’s face twisted at the statement. It’s not like it was an odd thing but he just had no idea what had happened while he was gone. “What happened?”

Now it was your face that was twisting, confused at his words. You opened your mouth to reply before Topper beat you to it, neck craned dangerously over the back of the couch as he spoke. “Oh, it was nothing, man. She was just being nice and getting me something to drink and spilled it on herself.”

Rafe seemed to take the answer at face value, not pressing any further as he guided you both to sit on the couch before he stopped in his tracks, hands letting go off you to rub at a dark spot on the fabric of the furniture that wasn’t there before he left.

“Did you spill whatever it was on the couch?” He questioned irritatedly, rubbing and scratching that patch that wouldn’t budge.

Neither you nor Topper responded as Rafe huffed, making his way towards the kitchen to retrieve something to try and scrub the stain out before Rose, the clean-freak she was, got on him about it. Standing over the sink however, he took notice of something — there were no glasses in the sink. In fact, the kitchen looked untouched from when it had been cleaned yesterday.

If you’d gotten Topper something to drink, where’d you pour it? Into the palm of his hands?

Rafe’s gaze rose to look at the blonde who was lounging on his couch and he’d looked up just in time to see his best friend’s gaze trail up the length of your frame hungrily.

The action made a thought appear in his mind, a crazy thought. Rafe wasn’t as naive as you, he saw the way his friends looked at you and heard the way they tried to speak to you when they thought he couldn’t hear. He didn’t expect any of them to act on their whims unless they intended to lose their lives.

He hadn’t even noticed your presence beside him until he felt your fingers on the skin of his shoulder through his shirt, shifting his gaze towards you who was peering up at him.

“Are you okay?”

The man’s eyes narrowed at you in the slightest, moving so that your faces were inches apart and he spoke in a hushed tone.

“The fuck did you do?” He questioned, tone short and mean. The look in his eyes had you scared and confused.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not-”

“So, nothing happened while I was gone?”

Your next response wasn’t as quick, mouth opening for a few seconds, eye fleeting between the two blondes before you answered. “All I did was help Topper out because he was sad about Sarah. He said you’d be okay with it, that you’d suggested it even-”

“Suggested wh- what the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe’s face was twisted, tone scolding as if he was upset with a child.

“I don’t know, he just started touching me and saying all this stuff-”

You were cut off when the irritated blonde grabbed you by the arms, slightly shaking you. “Tell me what happened.” He spoke menacingly. “All of it.”

You tripped over your words before you got them out, the blonde boy on the couch paying no attention to you and Rafe as you explained how he’d coerced you into sex only hours before Rafe came back. Rafe listened intently as you told him about his best friend came into his house, sat on his couch, and fucked his girlfriend. And he couldn’t believe that he was still breathing. Couldn’t believe that he sat, laid back on his couch like nothing had happened.

Topper was always telling Rafe how you were just a pretty face and had nothing going on up top. Rafe usually told him off, not allowing him to demean you. He’d never thought his words had any deeper meaning.

“...And I showered after. Rafe, I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you never think. That’s your problem.” He snapped under his breath, snatching himself away from you.

He knew you weren’t the brightest when it came to reading people. You weren’t an idiot or anything. You did well in school, you were academically gifted. But for some reason, when it came to socializing, you just weren’t there. You never caught on to sarcastic jokes, you didn’t know when people were flirting with you or using you. You were oblivious in that sense.

So when he looked back to see you with your head lowered, looking more shameful and upset than he’d ever seen you, he couldn’t help but sigh, using one hand to pull your head into his chest.

“I didn’t mean that, okay? It’s not your fault.” He felt your arms wind around his waist as your face buried into his shirt.

“I didn’t know. It felt wrong but he said you were okay with it. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry-”

“Shh, stop. I know, I know,” He cooed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Why don’t you go upstairs? Hm?” He pulled back, looking into your tearful eyes as you nodded, releasing your hold on one another before you made your way up the staircase, sparing a solemn look to Rafe before you disappeared.

Rafe eyed Topper who looked like he was struggling to ignore Rafe’s gaze burning into the side of his head. He didn’t know if he’d heard any part of your conversation but he could tell that the boy looked tense.

“Yo, Top?” Rafe called, back now turned as he inspected the kitchenware, eyes landing on the knife block before pulling out the chef’s knife. The object was swinging at his side as he turned back to face his friend.

“Yeah?” He replied, letting his gaze find the man standing in the kitchen. Topper looked nervous, a bead of sweat on his hairline.

“I hope it was worth it.” He snapped at him. "'Cause I'm going to fucking kill you."

General taglist;@livlaughquinn

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #angstober23'

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

Text

Man of My Dreams - Eddie Munson x Reader

Note: I’m not sure why this formatted oddly, so I apologize.

Summary: When you friends find out you had a dirty dream, they gang up on you to find out who it was about.

Warnings: mentions of sex obviously, language, insecurity, i think that’s it?

Words: 4.5k

“Ugh, I did not sleep well.” You pull down the passenger seat visor in Nancy’s car and inspect your eyes in the mirror. They look much more alert after rubbing them a few times with the heel of your hand.

“Did you make her sleep on the floor?” Nancy looks at Robin in the rearview mirror, pursing her lips at your friend. Nancy had just picked the two of you up from Robin’s house after you’d spent the night. You were all headed to Steve’s house now, you older gang of teens crashing together for a night of junk food and even junkier movies.

“No, I didn’t! She slept next to me,” Robin says. She looks down and picks at her fingernails, mumbling, “Sounded like you had a good sleep, though.”

It’s the way your face burns from pink to scarlet more than Robin’s comment that catches Nancy’s interest. She smirks at you out of the corner of her eye, and you swear Robin would be dead if there wasn’t a witness sitting right next to you.

“Ooh, what does that mean?” Nancy croons.

“What are you talking about, Robin?” you ask. You sure as hell remembered your dream, but you weren’t aware you vocalized anything to reveal the dirty nature of it.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Robin says. “You may not snore, but you sure were making other noises in your sleep.”

As Nancy’s smirk grows, you drop your head into your hands with a groan. Nancy reaches over and jabs her finger in your shoulder.

“Who were you dreaming of, huh?” Nancy asks.

“Not important,” you mumble into your hands.

“I think it is,” Robin chimes up.

“Why?” you groan out.

�� “Because we’re your best friends and we’re nosy,” Robin answers.

“Oh, come on,” Nancy says when you shake your head. “It’s not that embarrassing. It’s happened to all of us.”

“Yeah?” you ask, peeking at her from behind your hands. “You slept next to one of your best friends and got caught having a sex dream?”

“Well, no,” Nancy admits. “But we’ve all had a dream like that!”

“Not me,” Robin says.

You turn around in your seat to glare at her. “Then I hope you have one at the most inconvenient time possible.” She blows a kiss at you, and you wrinkle your nose at her before turning back around.

“Who was it?” Nancy asks again.

“Can’t we just drop it?” You rest your forehead against the cool glass of the window as Nancy pulls into Steve’s driveway. Your stomach was already in knots knowing you were going to see the object of your dream’s desire tonight, and this was making it worse.

“You know I’ll just bring it up in front of the guys,” Robin says.

“Robin!”

“Oh my God,” Nancy says as she puts the car in park. “Was it about one of them?”

You unclick your seatbelt and shove the car door open. “I hate you both,” you shout at them as you slam the door behind you.

“Should we take that as a yes?” Robin asks. Nancy shrugs at her and they both climb out of the car after you.

Robin jogs to catch up to you and throws her arm over your shoulders. Your finger stabs Steve’s doorbell before you cross your arms over your chest. It wasn’t bad enough that you were completely in love with Eddie – and had been for years – but now you have to endure this from your friends with him in the same house. This wasn’t the first dream you’d had about Eddie in that manner, it just happened to be the first one you were caught having.

The dream floats back to the front of your mind as you wait for the door to open. Eddie’s hands everywhere. His mouth on your throat. His bare chest pressed right up against yours. You roll your shoulders back, knocking Robin’s arm off in the process, as you try to shake the dream back.

The door swings open and Steve greets you three with a smile that makes Robin roll her eyes.

“Hello, ladies,” he says.

“Stop flirting,” Robin says as she passes by him and into the house.

Steve scoffs and watches Robin as she passes. “I’m not flirting.”

“It’s really only one out of two modes you have,” Robin calls back.

Nancy chuckles and follows in after Robin. Steve turns to look at you and you shrug.

“The other mode is protective, in case you were wondering,” you tell him. You pat him on the shoulder before sliding past him as well.

Music blares from the living room ahead and you feel your palms start to sweat. It’s better than what was wet last night, but you’re trying not to think about that. The blaring guitar notes floating your way can only mean the metal head of your dreams is already here. You were so focused on squabbling with your friends when you arrived that you hadn’t even noticed his van.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says, walking up behind you. “I leave the room for ten fucking seconds, and he gets to the stereo.”

You giggle as you walk into the room, greeted by the sight of Eddie laying flat on the couch, air drumming to the beating solo at this point in whatever song this is. Steve turns down the volume and Eddie whines in protest. He rolls off the couch in classic Eddie dramatic fashion and pushes himself up to his feet. His face lights up when he sees you and it’s impossible to ignore the fluttering happening several places in your body.

“Finally!” He comes forward and throws his arms around you, tugging your body against his. His warmth seeps into you and you try to fight the blush. No need to give your friends further clues who your little dream was about. “Being here alone with Steve was awful.”

“You’ve been here ten minutes,” Steve says.

“And it was agony,” Eddie assures you, looking you straight in the eyes. You laugh and playfully shove him off you. He smirks and refuses to let you fully leave him, throwing his arm to hang around your neck.

“Where’s the pizza?” Robin asks as she drops down on the couch that Eddie just vacated.

“On it’s way,” Steve answers.

“What movies did you manage to nab from the store?” Nancy asks.

“You make it sound like I stole from work,” Steve says. “I’ll have you know, I am a model employee.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re an employee who looks like a model,” you say with a smirk.

Steve points his finger at you as he crosses the room towards the television. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“Hmm,” Robin hums. “So, she thinks Steve looks like a model.”

She smirks at you, and you narrow your eyes at her. Don’t you mouth to her.

Eddie notices your glare at your friend and frowns.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Robin raises her eyebrows at you and if looks could kill, Robin would be no more.

“Robin, don’t,” Nancy mumbles to her. But not quiet enough.

“Don’t what?” Steve asks as he goes through the collection of VHS tapes in his lap.

“Nothing.” Robin says it, but it couldn’t possibly sound less convincing.

“Oh, come on.” Eddie jostles your shoulder and pouts. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” you reiterate to him.

The doorbell rings and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Get that for me, will you, Robin?” Steve says from the floor.

“I don’t have any money for a tip.”

“Eddie?” Steve asks.

Eddie pats his pockets with his free hand and shrugs. “Coming up empty too, man.”

“I’ve got it,” Nancy says.

“Thank you,” Steve says, pointedly looking at Robin and Eddie as Nancy leaves the room.

“Now what’s going on?” Eddie asks as he shakes you again. Knots tighten in your stomach because you know Eddie, and he’s not going to let it go.

“She just had a weird dream,” Robin says. “That’s all, dude.”

It would’ve been convincing enough to end the conversation, had Steve not kept it going.

“Like a nightmare?”

You open your mouth to answer but no sound comes out. Eddie smirks at your silence, taking it as a confession of some sort.

“Sex dream?” he asks as Nancy walks back into the room, pizza boxes in her arms.

“Robin!” She chides.

You hide your face in your hands as Nancy unintentionally confirms Eddie’s suspicion. The smirk on his face grows and he wraps both arms around you, squeezing you in his embrace.

“Oh, Nance,” you groan.

“What?” she asks innocently as she sets the pizzas down.

“Robin didn’t let that slip. You did,” Steve says with a laugh.

“I what?” Her eyes double in size as she stares at you with dread.

“Yep,” Eddie confirms as he keeps his tight grip on you. “Thank you for affirming that our innocent little friend over here had a dirty dream. Now, if you could tell us about who, I know I’d really appreciate it.”

Your face burns red, and you try to push yourself out of Eddie’s arms, to no avail. He chuckles and pulls you against his chest, laying his head on top of yours.

“Oh God, I am so sorry,” Nancy says. “And I don’t know, Eddie. But I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

“Party pooper,” Steve complains.

“Can we eat?” you mumble against Eddie’s chest. “And just let this go? Please?”

Eddie pulls back so he can look down at you.

“You really think it’s possible for me to let it go?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“For me?” You pout, face still like a tomato.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Not even for you.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you take advantage of his distraction to slip out of his arms.

You back up into Steve’s chest though, as he’d come up behind you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you groan again. You drop your head back against his shoulder and he rocks you from side to side.

“You’re stuck with us, babe,” Steve says. “You might as well tell us and get it over with.”

The friendship you have with both guys is amazing. You love how close you are with them, and how your whole gang is able to tease and mess with each other on a daily basis. But in the rare times like this, where the two bros ganged up on you, it was mentally exhausting.

“I think I’ll walk home,” you say.

“Oh, come on,” Robin says. “We’re all friends here. Tell us who.”

In your head, you add Robin to your shit list.

“Mr. Evans?” Steve asks. “Half the girls at school have a crush on him.”

“Ew, no,” you deny. It was a mistake, because now you’re engaged in this conversation about who it is.

“Why is this so embarrassing for girls?” Steve asks. “I’ll sit here and tell you all the girls I’ve had sex dreams about.”

“Thank you, Steve, but we’d all like to keep our appetites tonight,” Robin says.

“And we’d all like to get out of here before morning,” Eddie adds.

Managing to slip out of Steve’s grip, you walk over to Nancy and stand behind her. She’s too small to hide you behind her frame, but she’s the only one you feel is on your side.

“You’re the only one I like,” you mumble in her ear.

“I’m so sorry,” she reiterates to you quietly.

“It’s okay,” you assure her. You know she never would’ve done it on purpose.

“Kevin Sanders?” Robin asks. “Because I think he likes you.”

“Ugh, you can do so much better than him,” Eddie says.

“No,” you say. Figuring this would go on for a while, you slink over to the couch opposite Robin and plop down on it.

“At least narrow it down for us,” Steve says.

“Why would I do that?” you snap back.

“Because you love us?” Eddie gives you his best puppy dog eyes and you have to avert his gaze.

“Nancy had an interesting theory in the car,” Robin says. You roll onto your stomach and hide your face in the cushions as she continues. “She thought it might’ve been about one of you guys.”

“Really?” Steve drawls. You don’t have to look at either of the guys to know they have matching self-satisfied smirks on their faces.

“I hate you all,” you call loud enough for them to hear over your face smooshed against the soft material.

Eddie’s boots clomp over to you, and he plops down on the floor in front of you.

“Sweetheart, come on,” he says. “We’re all just joking with you.”

“Are we?” Steve asks, followed by a huff of pain. Hopefully from Nancy hitting him.

“The pizza’s going to get cold,” Nancy says. “Come on, guys.”

Cardboard is shuffled around, and you hear your friends taking slices out. Except Eddie. He’s still sitting on the floor next to you. You turn your head to peak at him and he’s smiling at you. Your face flushes again as your stomach twists in excitement.

“Alright,” you hear Steve through a mouth full of pizza. “We’ve got Saturday Night Fever, Grease, Blow Out. Jesus Robin, are these all John Travolta movies?”

“I may have been bribed,” Robin answers. From where you’re laying you can see her give a pointed look to Nancy, who shrugs and gives her best innocent look.

“At least it’s not Tom Cruise again,” Steve mutters.

“Grease is a musical, but what are the others?” Robin asks.

“Saturday Night Fever is dancing. Other than that, I have no idea,” Steve says. “And it looks like Blow Out is a thriller or slasher kind of flick.”

“Slasher,” you and Eddie vote at the same time. He smirks and gives you a wink, causing the twisting of your stomach to increase tenfold.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Robin says.

“Sound good, Nance?” Steve asks.

“John Travolta is in it, so it sounds good to me,” she answers.

Steve pops the tape in the VHS player, while Eddie stands and wraps his arms around your middle. He yanks upward and you flail against his grip, unable to help the laugh that comes out. He manages to scoop you up and slide underneath you, placing you down on his lap. You huff but relax back against him anyway.

“Pizza?” Nancy asks you.

“Yes, please,” you say.

Nancy puts a slice on a plate for you and one for Eddie. She hands them to you before sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table to enjoy her own piece. Eddie rests his plate on your thighs and folds up the slice, shoving half of it in his mouth in one bite. Steve presses play before going to sit next to Robin on the couch.

You take a bite of your pizza, but your jaw stops mid-bite as you hear moaning come from the television. Your head shoots up to see scantily clad girls in lingerie, before the screen flickers to a full-on sex scene. Steve and Robin snicker across the room and you look to see them both watching you. You groan and drop your plate in your lap, knocking into Eddie’s. Face in your hands, you turn to roll off Eddie’s lap. He grips you around the waist to hold you securely on top of him.

“I hate them,” you mumble to Eddie. He laughs softly in your ear, but it’s slightly mocking. You reach back and smack his chest. “You too.”

“Aww, princess,” Eddie says. The nickname only spurs you further along and you try to escape his clutches. He’s too strong though, and keeps you pressed against him. “You know you can make this end.”

“Yeah,” Robin echoes from the other couch. “All you gotta do is give us a name.”

“With friends like you guys, who needs enemies?” you ask.

“So, was your dream like this?” Steve asks, pointing to the scene in the movie.

“Alright, Steve,” you say. It’s easier to fight back with him, since he isn’t the one your dream was about. “You wanna know?”

“I do,” he says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Fine. Come with me.” You stand up out of Eddie’s lap, leaving him frowning behind you.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Why does he get to know?” Robin asks.

Instead of answering anyone, you march over to the sliding glass door and glide it open. Steve’s right on your heels as you step outside. He closes the door behind you as you keep stalking forward.

“You’re not going to push me in the pool, are you?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You guys really aren’t going to let up, are you?” you ask.

“What’s the big deal?” Steve asks, putting his hands on his hips. “Just tell us.”

“Because he’s in there,” you snap. “And I’ve been in love with him for years.”

Steve’s face falls as he realizes this wasn’t fun and games to you like it was for them.

“Shit,” he says, hands sliding off hips. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s kind of the point of a secret,” you say.

He sighs and runs his hands over his face. He takes a step forward and opens his arms to you to offer a hug. You step into his embrace and bury your head in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“S’okay,” you mumble against him. “Figured I’d tell you because you can make the rest of them shut up.”

“I’ll do my best,” he says. “Although Nancy is scarier than me.”

“True,” you agree with a chuckle.

“Come on,” Steve says. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and pulls back. “Pizza is going to get cold.”

Steve leads you back inside, retaking his spot next to Robin. You sit down next to Eddie and the eyes of the room are going back and forth between you and Steve. Both of you ignore them until Robin smacks Steve in the chest.

“Ow?”

“Well?” she asks.

“Just let it go, okay?” he says.

Robin frowns and looks over at you, but you don’t take your eyes off your plate. The awkwardness lasts for a few minutes before there’s an uptick in action in the movie. As everyone becomes more and more immersed in the film, the conversation starts up again, revolving around the mystery being laid out.

Pizza’s mostly gone, and leftovers are cold when the movie ends. Most of you are satisfied, but Robin keeps huffing in annoyance.

“Next time I’m picking the musical,” she says.

“Warning, Steve and y/n will duet the songs the whole time,” Nancy says.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“What? She’s right,” you say. Steve shrugs noncommittally and you chuckle.

Eddie’s brow is pinched, and you nudge him with your elbow.

“You okay?”

“Hmm?” He looks at you and shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m good. Do you want me to drive you back to your house?”

“Sure,” you say. Not only would you take any chance to be around Eddie, but your home was closer to his place than Nancy’s anyway.

Steve assures the rest of you that you don’t have to clean up, that he’s got it covered, and everyone can head out. As you say goodbye, Steve gives you an extra tight hug and you smile at him gratefully. Eddie slings his arm over your shoulders as soon as you pull away from Steve, and he leads you to his van.

You hop up in the passenger seat and Eddie starts the engine, turning up the heat to get the biting chill out of the van. He pulls out of Steve’s driveway and heads down the dark and quiet road. Music plays softly over the speakers, but it isn’t usual for Eddie to be this quiet.

“What’s wrong, Ed?”

“Nothing,” he says. It sounds rehearsed though.

“You think I buy that?” you ask. “We’re like best friends.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he mumbles, almost too low for you to hear. But not quite.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“You really think I’m gonna do that?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He shifts in his seat, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Your street comes into view and Eddie takes the turn so fast it feels like the van rocked onto just two wheels.

“Jesus, Eddie!”

The van screeches into your driveway and he kills the ignition. You stare at him as he keeps his focus straight on your house in front of you. He rolls his shoulders back and his leather jacket creeks in protest.

“I’m being a jealous asshole.”

His words are so unexpected that you’re not sure if he’s done speaking or not. When he doesn’t elaborate, you venture forward.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“You talked to Steve instead of me.”

Inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, you take a few deep breaths before replying.

“Is this really about that stupid dream?” you ask.

“No,” he says with a huff. “I mean…no, not really. It’s just, you brought Steve outside to talk about it. I thought we were closer.”

He shrugs and looks down at his hands on the steering wheel. His voice had gotten quieter as the sentence wound down. It ended with him sounding small and vulnerable.

“Eddie.”

You don’t know what to say after that though. That the reason you told Steve about your sex dream was because the dream was about having sex with Eddie? You’d rather have him feeling a bit jealous than never wanting to speak to you again.

When you don’t continue speaking, he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. You reach over to place your hand on his arm, not knowing what else to do.

“You and I are closer than Steve and I are. But maybe that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Have you ever felt it easier to tell someone something that you weren’t as close to?”

Eddie turns to fully face you, face furrowed in thought.

“No.”

His deadpan response makes you laugh. You drop your head forward and a smile cracks on his face.

“You’re always so honest with me,” you say.

“Pretty much,” he says with a shrug.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath. It’s true. There’s not a time Eddie wasn’t honest with you. To the point of embarrassment on multiple occasions.

“Okay,” you say on an exhale. “I’ll tell you. But it’s embarrassing.”

Eddie leans forward, elbows resting on the center console. He dips his chin and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Would it help if I tell you my most embarrassing sex dream?”

You purse your lips in thought, though you both already know the answer.

“Duh.”

“Okay,” he says through a deep breath. “You want to know why, besides the obvious, I hate going to the school library?”

He looks at you expectantly for a moment before your jaw drops and your eyes widen.

“Mrs. Brady? Eddie!” You cover your face with your hands to smother your giggles. It takes a couple of seconds for you to recover enough to continue speaking. “Eddie! She’s like eighty!”

“I know!” He throws his hands in the air. “It’s not like I could help it, though. You can’t help what you dream about. Which leads us back to…” He gestures to you with a dramatic flourish.

With a deep breath, you nod your head.

“Okay. Well. At least it’s someone my age,” you say with a smirk. Eddie rolls his eyes and gently pushes you against the passenger door. You throw a crumbled-up receipt at him before continuing. “It was you, you doofus.”

“Me?” His voice raises three octaves and his eyebrows jettison into his hair.

“Yes,” you say, cheeks flaring. “Now do you understand why I didn’t tell you?”

“Well shit, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a smirk. It didn’t take him long to recover from his surprise, usual charm and charisma back in place. “Nothing to be embarrassed of there.”

“Oh, no?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Do you know how many dreams I’ve had about you like that?”

“Me?” It’s your turn to have your voice become a different decibel.

“Yeah, you. Look at you,” he says, gesturing to you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Your eyes drop to your lap, and you bite your lip to hide your grin. The burn travels up to the tips of your ears and you don’t remember the last time you felt so warm or your tummy all buzzy.

“You could’ve just told me,” Eddie says, reaching over to tilt your chin up. “I’m flattered, really. Never thought someone like you would think about me that way. Even if it came from your subconscious.”

“Someone like me?” you ask with a frown.

“Yeah, like…way out of my league,” he says.

Your frown deepens as you lean forward and press your forehead against his.

“I don’t want to ever hear you say something like that again,” you say.

“It’s true, though,” he whispers, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “You’re practically the perfect girl.”

“Hush,” you tell him as you reach up to cup his face in your hands. “Number one, you know you and I are both nerds on the same level. And you’re gorgeous, so jot that down. There’s no one out of your league, Eddie.”

He gives you a soft smile and presses his nose against yours. “You always make me feel better.”

“Yeah?” you ask. You trail your thumbs along his cheekbones, and he shudders gently under your touch.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” Eddie whispers to you.

You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.

“The feeling is very mutual, Munson.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

Reluctantly, you pull your face away from his to look up at your house.

“My parents are still away, you know,” you say. “If you want to come in?”

“Oh yeah?” he looks at you skeptically.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Maybe I could show you what happened in my dream?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and you swear you’ve never seen him this speechless before. It makes you giggle despite the nerves rocking through your body.

“That sounds good,” he says. His pupils are blown wide open and the way he tries to make his voice sound calmer gives you all the assurance you need. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. You mean for it to be quick, but as you go to pull away, Eddie cups the back of your head and sinks in against your mouth.

Just as you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck, he pulls back to whisper against your lips.

“I really hope you dreamt me cuddling the shit out of you afterwards, because that’s definitely happening.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction

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sunburstl0v3 · 11 months

Text

Prologue

✿ Ken x Fem. Reader x Barbie ✿

SUPER SHY

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 떨리는 지금도, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺

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It was a beautiful morning in Barbie Land. The weather was perfect, sunny with no clouds in sight. Barbie, woke up joyful as always, jumping right into a shower she never skipped, and leaped to her closet readying herself for this perfect eventful day.

The blonde quickly dressed herself in a pink, white polka-dotted dress, with pink heels and a pink flower in her hair. It was perfect. Barbie's morning consisted of a quick breakfast of a cup of milk and a waffle with a dollop of whip cream, the perfect way to have breakfast! Finishing up her breakfast, she floated down to her car, like anyone else would.

"Hi, Barbie!" Barbie waved seeing another Barbie walking along the sidewalk, "Hi Barbie!" She replied. Oh, it was so perfect. As Barbie drove her pretty pink convertible, she greeted the Barbies on her way to the beach. It was another beach day with all the wonderful Barbies and Kens. Yet as Barbie was expecting a lovely morning sitting with other Barbies, chatting about how everything is just so perfect in Barbie Land but as she traveled closer to the beach, Barbie noticed a certain Barbie making a lot of noise.

"You don't understand." Weird Barbie spoke, clutching her overwhelming weird dress, with mismatched colors and stitches, "What don't we understand?" Doctor Barbie questioned, crossing her arms.

"Yeah! You're being a lot weirder than normal, Weird Barbie!" Lawyer Barbie said, "Yea!" Another Barbie chimed in. Weird Barbie frowned, gazing up at the sky, "It's gonna get a whole lot weirder sooner or later..." She muttered, confusing the Barbies but most of them barely paid any mind to her...as she was just off-putting. Then like a flip of a switch, Weird Barbie did the splits and rolled off the beach.

The rest of the Barbies watched as she tumbled away but their eyes instantly met with Stereotypical Barbie, her bright diamond eyes.

"Hi Barbie!" they all yelled in unison, "Hi Barbie!" she waved back, skipping down the sandy hill to the Barbies. "What's going on?" Barbie questioned, looking back at Weird Barbie exiting the beach, "Oh you know, just Weird Barbie being...Weird."

"So, everything is good?" "Everything is amazing!"

Soon after the music started and everyone, including the Kens, began their beach day, some played volleyball, and others had some kind of dance battle or swam in the beautiful blue sea. "Hey Barbie, do you know why Weird Barbie was being so much weirder than normal" throwing back a beach ball, "She said something about another doll joining us." Barbie said, Stereotypical Barbie gasped, "What are we doing!?" she yelled, missing the beach ball being thrown passed her, hitting a Ken in the back of his head.

"What do you mean?" Stereotypical Barbie rushed to sit down on the bleachers, other Barbies following after her, "If another Barbie is joining Barbie Land, we have to host an amazing party for her!" other Barbies murmured between themselves and suddenly getting excited, "Oh em gee! You're so right Barbie!" Author Barbie exclaimed, "How could we not!"

Stereotypical Barbie and Author Barbie began jotting down some ideas for the party which totally had a giant sleepover after.

The Ken's stood far, far away admiring the Barbies as always, "What are they talking about?" Stereotypical Barbie's Ken asked, pouting, "Something about a party." Ken replied, "I bet she's making an invite list, and I doubt you're on it." Ken's rival, Ken said.

Ken grumbled, looking away from the Barbies, "Barbie always invites me." yet Ken's eyes roamed back to Barbie, his Barbie. The way her perfect smile warmed his heart, and how even the slightest eye contact could put him in Ken heaven.

It was always a fact; Ken was undoubtedly in love with Barbie.

"Hey what's that?" someone asked, Ken turned around to face the ocean, and suddenly his face paled, the sky began getting darker, "Is it bedtime already?" His best friend, Allen asked.

"She's here."

"Ahh!" Ken looked next to him and there stood Weird Barbie, absolutely scaring him, "When did you get here?" but Weird Barbie ignored him staring intensely at the sky, "What's going on?" he questioned her, worriedly looking back and forth at the woman and the sky.

"She is arriving." as the words left her mouth, all the Kens gasped, making the group of Barbies look up, their eyes instantly going to the darkened sky, "Where's the sky...?" Stereotypical Barbie whispered, standing up from the bleachers and walking towards the ocean, "Hey Ken...What's happening...?" she asked worriedly, her blonde counterpart immediately did a 180, "Oh hi Barbie." Ken uttered as he fixed his hair making sure he looked really attractive to her.

The storm grew closer and closer to them, "We have to go." Weird Barbie said, backing away and rushing off the beach. Ken furrowed his eyebrows, fighting with himself in his own dilemma: leave for safety or be here with Barbie.

"Maybe we should follow her..." Ken frowned looking behind him and seeing other Barbies and Ken's leave all in fear of what is going on.

"Barbie?" Ken looked back at her, his blue eyes gazing at her full of concern. She was quiet, the giant blue sky she loved so much was a dark grey, large clouds forming together as they crept closer and closer to Barbie Land.

What happened to the sky?

Ken's face paled again, looking back and forth between Barbie and the sky, Ken frowned, "Barbie we have to go to the Dream House." Barbie blinked out of the random headspace and turned to look at Ken.

"Y-Yeah." they both ran away from the beach, hoping in Barbie's convertible, and making a quick getaway to Barbie's Dream House.

That night there was no dance, sleepover, party, or even Ken trying his hardest to impress Barbie.

It was bleak, it was nothing.

Barbie sat on the floor of her Dream House, her legs dangling off the ledge, as she gazed outside. Her blue eyes witnessed the darker clouds surrounding the beach more and more.

Barbie sighed, what was this feeling? Disappointment? Was this a sign about the new Barbie? No. All Barbies were perfect, smart, and happy.

But Barbie Land has never had a storm.

And then it started to rain. A crack of thunder made Barbie flinch, and then came a downpour of rain, coating the beach.

"It's okay..." Barbie whispered, her hands tightening around each other for comfort, "Tomorrow there will be another beautiful perfect day..."

With nothing left to do on this overwhelming day, she sat on her couch and waited till she couldn't hear the storms no more.

"She's here!" a loud yell awoke Barbie, jolting her up from the couch, a familiar voice yelled out again, and the sound of clapping, "She's here!! Hahah!" It was Weird Barbie who seemed to be crazy about this new Barbie. But anyway, Barbie lifted herself off the couch and floated down to the street, looking back up at the sky. Good, it was back to being blue and the sun was setting.

"Are you sure the new Barbie is here?" Diplomat Barbie asked, walking closer to her.

"Yep! I'm 1000% sure!" Weird Barbie smirked, her marked-up face scrunching. Stereotypical Barbie smiled, "Well, we shouldn't keep her waiting now should we."

Just a few minutes later, many Barbies and Kens huddled around the beach all staring at specific women. The woman, had her back turned to them, she was not what they were expecting...

"Welcome Barbie! This is Barbie Land!" Stereotypical Barbie beamed while she welcomed the new Barbie, excited to finally introduce her to everyone. She stepped closer to the woman, standing right behind her.

Barbie blinked, waiting for her new friend to turn and begin her new life here as a Barbie but she stood still watching the (plastic) ocean. Barbie frowned, shuffling to the girl's side and finally seeing her face.

[E/c] eyes, the new Barbie had glossy [e/c] eyes, she had eyes that seemed the sparkle as she gazed out admiring the sun, "Hello?" Barbie asked, finally the woman turned her head towards Barbie, startling her a bit.

"Hello..." she spoke, so soft that Barbie almost missed it, "Hi Barbie, welcome to Barbie Land."

The woman blinked, pouting, "I'm not Barbie, I'm [Y/n]."

───────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

taglist: @imogen-skye @samhomo @almostjollypizza @itstylersblog @meowkid1000 @urmomsbananabread

#SUPER SHY series #x reader #barbie #and ken #romance #barbie spoilers #barbie x reader #ken x reader #barbie movie #x fem!reader

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kennedybaby · 1 year

Text

TIPSY ~ LEON S. KENNEDY

Summary: Fucking a bartender in the back seat of his car was the last thing Leon had in mind after successfully retrieving Ashley back to safety.

Word count: 4.495k / Warning: Mild dubcon because Leon is tipsy. Anything is just pure filth.

Pairing: Post Re4 Remake! Leon S. Kennedy X Fem! Bartender! Reader.

Author note: got horny and accidentally vomit out 4k words of leon fucking you. sorry, it's just the girl tendencies in me. read the tags to know what to expect!!! 🤍

mature contents below the cut. mdni.

Leon needed some sort of a quick stress reliever.

His knuckles gradually turned white as he tightly gripped his steering wheel. His chin leaning on his other hand, the faint buzzing noise from the radio accompanied by his soft breathing was the only company he had. Leon had debated with himself, a part of him missed his bed like crazy, all he wanted to do was bury his body between the soft cushions and dozed off into a long, serene slumber. But a part of him itches for something. He needed a drink, anything to get that surge of dopamine in his body. Need the familiar bile taste to settle in his mouth as he chugs it down his throat, letting it burn his chest.

Leon Scott Kennedy needs some alcohol in his system. Desperately.

Running his gloved fingers thru his damp hair, Leon let out a soft chuckle upon seeing a bar from afar, almost as if his desperate plea was answered by God himself. Its neon sign flashing OPEN 24/7 in bright red LED lights, he could see a few drunkards already passing out on the sidewalk, holding onto their beer bottles before he parked his car around the corner. Putting his car keys in his pocket, Leon budged open the door of the bar, greeted by the sound of the bell atop the door chimes. The heavy scent of tobacco, hard liquor and sweat was evident as it clings to the air— not to mention the odour of sex grows stronger and pungent as he goes even deeper into the crowds to reach the counter.

Leon finds himself a seat on one of the stools, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips before the feeling of someone standing over him crept onto him. He lifted his face, sparing a small, tired smile at you as you returned with a polite one.

‘Cute,’ He thought.

“You look tired, want me to fix you up with something?” You raised your voice a little, making sure he can hear you amid the blasting music as you leaned closer to him, Leon got a slight whiff of your refreshing, floral perfume. It was pleasant, a stark contrast from the stench that the bar seemed to be festering with. You were pretty, clad in a black blouse with your sleeves rolled to your elbow, a beige apron wrapping around your waist as you pressed your hands on the counter with a bright smile on your face.

“Just a shot of Vodka, please,” Leon replied, his eyes remaining trained on your face. You give his request a firm nod, turning your back to Leon as he watches you step on a stool before reaching for the bottle of Vodka on the top shelf.

“Need some help there?” Leon teased, a soft chuckle emitted from him as you rolled your eyes teasingly. “Thanks, but no thanks.” You replied to him, getting off the stool before you turned to face him again.

Putting the shot glass in front of him before you pour the Vodka in, making sure not to overflow the shot glass. “Thank you, pretty girl.” He whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower before you flash him a grin, your cheeks heating up before you remain your composure.

“Anytime, handsome.”

Sure, you’ve been flirted by your customers before. Mostly by married older men who're too drunk to even form a proper sentence, easing you into coming back home with them and they’ll show you a great time. You wouldn’t be too phased with it, assuming it was just the liquor talking— but this? This was different.

Somehow hearing this attractive man you have never seen before calling you a pretty girl sent heat coursing up your cheeks. Maybe it’s his looks or his voice, or the fact that you hadn’t been able to fuck for weeks since you were too busy with bartending and college classes hence you being fairly sexually frustrated but you paid extra attention to him.

Not that he’s complaining, Leon’s not the type to turn a lady’s attention away from him.

“You’re new here?” You strike up a conversation with him which is something you would normally avoid to do so. Leon smirked at you, chugging down the Vodka shot in one go before he let out a sharp breath. His eyes met back to yours before he cocked his head to the side, “Yeah, just wanted to find somewhere to rest, past weeks have been crazy.” He replied, his eyes shifted to the empty shot. “I might be here for a while, mind keeping a tab for me?” Leon poured himself another shot, his finger grazing around the rim of the shot glass before looking up into your eyes.

“Aren’t you too young to be bartending?"

“What are you a cop or something?” You raised your eyebrow with a teasing smile on your lips, jotting down his tab before pushing it to the side. A chuckle left his lips before Leon speaks again, “Eh, kind of. So how old are you?"

“21. No breaking laws here, officer.” Slightly raising both of your hands in the air jokingly, Leon grinned at your antics, chugging his second shot of Vodka.

“No worries, pretty girl. But why here, though? Why work in a bar?”

“It pays me well plus I needed some quick cash. My dad isn’t too keen on giving me some money so here I am.” You said, pouring him his third shot of Vodka as he smiled at you.

“How come?”

“Let’s just say he's not the nicest.” You shrugged, watching as his adam apple's bobs every time he chugged the Vodka shot down his throat. His pale cheeks already began to redden up a little, adoring his porcelain skin with a pink tint. Leon extended his hand to you and you happily accepted it, giving him a firm handshake before you exchanged introductions with each other.

“Leon Kennedy. And you are?”

“[Y/N] [L/N].”

The two of you converse for hours, pouring him shot after shot and with every shot he takes, Leon would flirt with you. He’s still pretty sober despite the high intake of Vodka shots, he seems pretty calm in his seat— occasionally winking at you when you’re serving other customers and throwing cheesy pick-up lines between the conversation.

Leon can’t lie but finds himself attracted to you, ordering more and more drinks in hopes of keeping your attention on him. He loves the way you blushed at the slightest contact of his hands or the way you would look at him back with a twinge of desire circling behind those eyes of yours. Fuck, you’re too hot for him to be this tipsy.

Once in a while when you were talking, his eyes would shift down to your lips, cock straining against his pants as you licked your lips and looked up to him with that evident obliviousness plastered all over your pretty face to his impure thoughts.

“Your total is 200 dollars. Cash or card?” You smiled at him, handing him the tab you had for him with a card reader in your other hand. Leon ran his card swiftly on the card reader before he put them back into his wallet and stuffed them back into his pocket. Shifting your eyes to the clock, a hint of disappointment could be seen on your face before you quickly muster a small smile for Leon.

“It’s already twelve? Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Leon." Untying the beige apron around your waist, you placed it on the lower counter. Leon was quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“I can give you a ride back home if you want.”

You can definitely say this was a different type of a ride back home.

“Your lips taste so fucking sweet."

Straddling his hips with your thighs wrapped around his waist at the backseat, Leon has his arm around your waist. His other hand cupped the right side of your face, circling his thumb on your cheek as you intertwined your lips with him. His tongue goes past your slick lips as his hand guides your head to tilt a little to deepen the heated kiss. Leon breaks away from the kiss, leaning his head back on the car seat as you look at him with a dazed smile.

“Shit, this is insane.” He muttered, his fingers running thru his dirty blonde hair. “What’s so insane about this?” You softly replied, your lips finding their way back to him as he happily reciprocated, kissing you back with his tongue swirling with yours. His hand on your cheek moved to the back of your head, keeping your lips locked with his as you moaned into the kiss. Pulling away from the kiss for air, Leon strokes your hair as he runs his fingers thru your locks.

“Never really made out with a girl prior after knowing her for a couple of hours." Leon chuckled, his head slightly tilted as he looked back into your eyes with a half-lidded stare. He can feel the heat radiating from your cunt and God knows how much of the effect you had on him. “Well, I don’t usually accept a ride back home from a stranger but here we are.”

“It’s a first for the two of us then.” He grinned, a devilish smirk playing on his lips before his hand removed his hand from the back of your head. Unwrapping his arm around your waist, Leon moved both of his hands and settled them on your hips. His thumb makes a circular motion on the surface of your stomach as hummed with satisfaction. “You can do more than that, can you, officer?"

Right. You don't even know what he actually works as. That’s how little you two know of each other and yet his bodies and yours slotted perfectly like two pieces of puzzles. As if the two of you had known each other forever. Leon preferred the anonymity between the two of them.

“You’re going to make me lose control if you keep calling me that," Leon chuckled, the sound of his husky voice ringing in your ears. You noticed how your lipgloss was all over his lips, the beautiful pink sheen smeared on his lips down to his chin. “What should I call you then? Daddy?”

Leon let out a groan, his smile widening at the way your voice sounded when you rolled the word daddy off the tip of your tongue smoothly— you’re can’t be teasing him when he’s this horny and tipsy. He can't even think properly, too fixated on the positions he can put you in at the back seat of his car, clouding his mind with endless indecent imagination. He swallowed thickly, looking back at your eyes as you bit your lower lip back at him and flashed him a playful smile. “Say it again.”

“Daddy.” You breathed out, eyes shooting wide when his fingers brushed against your collarbone as he pried your blouse open, sending the buttons of your blouse to fly everywhere. Your body tensed up from the sudden action, his warm breath hitting against your skin as he kissed your collarbone and stopped between your chest. “Yeah, call me that.”

“Gladly.” Pulling away from your chest, he leaned in closer to your face, pulling your face into his as he smashed his lips on yours— engaging you into a messy, sloppy kiss. His tongue forcefully parted your pursed lips, exploring every corner of your mouth as you let out a pathetic whine when he pulled away. “God, you’re so needy. My needy little girl,” You can feel the ache between your thighs building up when he called you a little girl. Your cunt throbbed against the thin fabric of your cotton panties as he slipped his hand down your pencil skirt, his index finger teasing the pulsing little clit thru the fabric of your panties in a circular motion as he softly chuckled when you began to squirm in his grasp.

“You're already so wet. You’re excited for daddy to fuck you stupid?” He whispered into your ear, shooting shivers down your spine as you nodded at his question. “Let me hear your voice, pretty girl.” Leon landed a firm spank on your ass, sending your back straight as your fingers cling to his black T-Shirt. “I-I am excited...”

“There's my good girl. Open your mouth for me.” You obeyed him, parting your lips before he stuck the same index and middle finger he teased your clit earlier. “Get it nice and wet for your pussy, baby.” Leon smiled, occasionally letting out a grunt as the warmth of your mouth and your hot tongue wrapped around his digits.

All Leon could do is wish it was his cock you were sucking, taking every inch of his shaft down your throat. He wanted to see the outline of his cock on your throat, fucking your mouth while his balls slapped against your chin as he leaves you breathless. But for now, he’d settle with fingering your pretty pussy open.

“You’re so cute sucking my fingers like that,” He breathed out, pulling his fingers out from your mouth as it let out a small pop. “Thank you, daddy.” You shyly muttered, cheeks heating up upon feeling his cock twitching in his pants and grazing against your clothed sex.

“Spread your legs up a little for daddy, baby.” Your knees dug into the cushion of his car seat as you leaned your body on his front seat. His hands helped you roll your skirt up to your pelvis. Your fingers reach down to push your panties aside, spreading the lips apart as his breath hitches. Leon mumbled a curse, his pants getting tighter and tighter by each time as he salivates over the sight of your sopping cunt.

“All this pretty pussy just for me?” You nodded at his question in which he slipped back his hand between your thighs. Leon removed the gloves from his hands before throwing them to the front seat.

“S’all for you,” Your words were slurred from fixating on the ache between your legs so much. He grinned upon hearing your answer, inserting two digits past the tight muscles as your body shuddered in pleasure. His thumb makes its way to your clit, rubbing them at a slow pace and in a circular motion. Arching your body into his touch, Leon let out a chuckle— his other hand pushing your bra up your breast before the rough surface of his palm quickly fondled your tits.

“F-Fuck... Just like that...” You moaned out, throwing your head back from pure ecstasy as his hand massaged your tit while his fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy. Apart from the sound of your wanton moans, the squelches of your cunt sucking in his fingers and the low buzz coming from the radio filled the limited space of his car. “You like that? You like getting fingered by a stranger? God, I bet you did this to all of your customers, don’t you?”

You should’ve found that disrespectful, should’ve snapped back at him for thinking that way but somehow it made you wetter. His voice was soothing and had the right amount of hoarseness that you can’t help but get off from him shaming you. Either way, you shook your head in the heat of your bliss, looking back at him with misty eyes. “No, just you, Leon... You’re the only one that I-I let you do this...”

“Good. That's what I wanted to hear from you.” He smiled before he picked up the pace of his fingers, rubbing your clit in a rougher and sloppier manner. Lips parting slightly, you gasped for air, seemingly taken aback by the sudden change of pace as your nails dug deep into his shoulder blades, gripping him tightly with the familiar knot in your lower stomach threatened to break. He loves the feeling of your spongy walls wrapped around his digits, pulsing and sucking his fingers deeper and deeper until his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.

“Oh, you love that, don’t you? Filthy whore.” The name-calling made your pussy clings onto his digits tighter as a sly smirk painted all over his lips. “Such a slut for getting off to me calling you a filthy whore, huh?” You weakly nodded, feeling yourself nearer to your limit as a whine left your lips when his fingers were pumping deep inside of you, abusing your sweet spot to its limits. Your teeth bite back your lower lip when he spits on your clit, smearing his saliva all over the bundle of nerves with his thumb.

“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t wait to have you crying on my cock.” He said in a whisper, making sure you heard him despite the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling at the moment. “L-Leon, I'm... Fuck!... C-Cummin’” You cried, not caring if anyone that walked past his car would notice how your bare body is played by Leon like a piece of instrument. God, being seen nude by people now was the least concern you had, the only thing you could think about now is finishing on his fingers.

But what’s the fun in letting his little girl have everything her way?

“No, no, I’m not letting you cum, yet.” Leon pulled out his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, wrapping his tongue around his digits as he cleaned your juices off his pruney fingers. You pouted at his words, a frustrated sigh left your lips as you leaned your head on the window. “Why not?” You asked with your eyebrows furrowed into a small frown, it was clear you weren’t happy with him suddenly edging you. His eyes on you softened before he wrapped his arms around your body, his lips pressed on your bruised lips before he gave it a little lick.

“You don’t want to cum all over daddy’s dick?” Leon asked, once again, his thumb rubbing the bone of your hip in a circular motion. His eyes looked back at yours as he put his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to make you look up at him.

“It's going to feel nicer, princess. Don't you want that?”

He was right. God, why does he always know what to say to you? He arranged words in a way that weakened your knees and sent the same aching mess rushing back between your legs.

“I do, I do want it...” You weakly replied to him. Leon doesn't think you know how pretty you are now, looking up at him with those dew eyes, the clear desperation painted across your face and the way you already began to rub your thighs together. Getting you off his lap, he opened the right door of his car. You couldn’t help but stared at his erection, straining against his black jeans as Leon unbuckled his brown, leather belt. “Come here, princess.” He gestured for you to be closer as you listened to him, inching closer to him as the cold air from the outside hits your skin. His hand reached down to tease your hardened nipples, letting a glob of his spit fall down to your chest as he lathered your nipples with his saliva and pre cum using the tip of his cock.

“It's cold, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’d heat you up just in a sec. Ass up, face down, pretty girl.” You nodded, turning your back to him before bringing your hips higher as the leather of his car seat sticks to the sweat on your face. His cold fingers removed your panties, letting them hang just above your knees as his eyes stared at your dripping cunt with hungry eyes. A small gasp emits out of you when he tapped his cock on your slit several times, teasing your swollen clit with the head of his dick as you bite your lips back.

“Keep quiet, okay? I need you to take every inch of me like a good girl. Just let me know if it hurts.” A grunt left his lips when he pushed the tip past your lips, his other hand holding onto the doorframe of his car while the other settled around your waist. Leon wanted nothing but to push his cock and filled every corner of your tight cunt but he controlled himself from doing so. After all, the last thing he wanted to do is to hurt you after how sweet you are for him this whole night. “The head’s in... I’m going to start pushing more and more, okay?”

“O-Okay...” You whine, breathing heavily as your chest heaves up and down in an erratic pattern.

“Fuck, [Y/N], you need to stop sounding like that before...” Leon cut himself short, by now he was already halfway in you, the feeling of your velvet walls throbbing around his cock made his mouth dry before a shaky breath left his lips. A low whimper guttered out of his throat as you trembled under him, allowing him to bury his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy until your ass met his pelvis. “Feel that, princess?”

You moaned out a high-pitched yes to his question, throwing a glance at him over your shoulder as you looked at him through blurry vision. Salty tears clinging to your lashes with your bruised lips parted slightly, your eyes looking back at him with nothing but sheer desire. Leon spared you a smirk, pushing back his hair from his face before his hand landed yet another spank on your ass— seemingly turned on by the way you yelped and squeezed around him.

“Keep your eyes on me while I fucked you like the filthy whore you are.”

Leon begins to rock his hips at a slow pace, making sure you’re still adjusting to his size, his eyes shifting back and forth from your face to the way your cunt wraps snugly around his cock. Leaning closer to you until his chest pressed against your back, Leon planted a kiss on your earlobe. “You’re making me drunk from how good your pussy is, baby.” He said, kissing down the nape of your neck before he stood up back straight and began to move his hips faster.

This might just be the relief Leon needed after all of the fighting he had to endure.

“Hey, no looking away.” Every so often, he’d spanked you for not looking him in the eyes. He needs to see every contortion of expression on your face while you locked eyes with him. Leon knows you struggled to keep your eyes open, losing yourself in the pleasure as his throbbing cock goes in and out of you at a steady pace. And Leon loves it. He loves making sure your eyes are still on him, whether by spanking your already sore rear or suddenly thrusting deep inside of you to hear the small little scream you make when you’re surprised.

“Sorry, daddy.” And every time he does that, you never fail to apologize to him between your choked sobs and broken moans. It was endearing to watch, seeing you try your best to not disappoint him while he’s fucking your pussy raw in the back seat of his car. The shape of his fingers is already bruising into the skin of your flesh, the mixture of both pain and pleasure sending you over the edge as you curl your toes every time the tip of his cock grazes against your cervix. The prominent vein on the side of his cock rubbed against your walls with every thrust, fishing muffled moans out of you.

“Touch your clit for me, baby.” You’re so pathetic like this, being fucked in the backseat of a guy you just knew a few hours ago. But you knew what would happen the second you agreed to a ride back home from him. Not that you regretted it, being dicked down by Leon has been nothing but heaven for you. Obeying to his order, your hand travelled down between your thighs, putting your index finger on your swollen clit before easing it in a circular motion. “Good girl.” He growled, picking up the pace of his thrusts before he stopped in his tracks. Sweat hanging at the tip of his hair as he looked down to the ground, the pleasure was too much for him.

He can just cum any second now if he moves. Taking notice of his sudden pause, you grind your cunt into his dick, pushing him back into the warmth of your pussy as his eyes shoot wide. “F-Fuck, baby, you can’t…” He stuttered, the feeling of your tight cunt pulsing around his cock and the way your ass bouncing on him was too much for him to handled. Gritting his teeth, Leon pushed your head back down onto the leather seat, his other hand keeping a firm grip around your hips as he started to snap his hips at a rougher pace.

“Fucking slut, can’t even give daddy a rest.” He cursed under his breath, his cock ramming into your pussy deeper as if he were moulding the shape of his dick into your sweet cunt. Every last of self-control left his body the second you started bouncing on his cock. Leon couldn’t care less at the fact that you had already cummed on his cock once or how he rendered you into nothing but a crying mess— all he cared about is the high he was chasing.

Leon needed that sweet release. He needed to cum deep inside of your pussy despite having no rubber on. “I'm going to cum inside, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck….” You probably can’t hear it but Leon finds it adorable how you’re nodding your head to whatever he said. Throwing his head in pure bliss, Leon finally comes undone inside of you, shooting sticky webs of his seed deep into your cunt before he stays inside of you for a couple of minutes as he catches his breath. His cum overflows out from your pussy the seconds he pulls out, dripping down between your thighs and dirtying his leather seat with his cum and your juices.

“You're so pretty like this, [Y/N].” He groaned, putting his pants back up. Leon fished out his cell phone from his pocket, pressing the camera icon as he started recording.

“You’re recording…?” You asked, instinctively hiding your face from the camera as he laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn't want to forget a moment like this.” Leon calmly said, his fingers running between the lips as he scooped up his cum and started writing his initials on your lower back. He dragged the white, translucent liquid as he formed the L. S. K. alphabets on your skin.

“Perfect.”

p.s send me any thirsts (dc are welcomed) abt leon pls or carlos or any cod members. thank u ♡ english isn't my first language so if any of the sentences sound weird, just ignore it!!!!! anyway, thank u 4 readin’ this messy pornfic lol

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tigertales9 · 8 months

Text

Hard Reset III

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This fic covers the week 4 loss to the Titans.

Time/Place: Sunday, Oct. 1, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio

A/N: This is the third fic in the Hard Reset series. It's also a shameless sex-fest. I promise there will be more actual plot (and sex!) in the next fic.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunday, 10/1/23 (after the week 4 loss to the Titans)

You check your watch as you pace around the kitchen, your mind grasping at what to say to Joe when he gets home. You roll your shoulders to relieve some tension as you think back to the game.

~ ~ ~

The 27-3 loss to the Titans felt like a huge step back after the Monday Night Football win against the Rams. The entire game was a disappointment to put it mildly. Every single phase -- offense, defense, special teams, play calling -- was lackluster as hell. The only positive was Joe's calf injury didn't seem to get re-tweaked, but you never know how it will react from one day to the next. Joe had once again requested you and his parents not greet him if the Bengals lost, so y'all were already in the car heading for the exit when the clock ticked down to 0:00. You beat the team charter flight back by a couple hours, and Joe's parents decided to head home since they knew he wouldn't want company.

~ ~ ~

The sound of the garage door opening pulls you back to the present, your pulse picking up when Joe walks in and locks eyes with you. "Hey," you greet, quickly walking forward to give him a hug. "Hey," he mutters, dropping his bag before wrapping his arms around you. "Sorry you traveled all that way just to see a shitshow," he continues, giving you a look that's half grin/half grimace when you pull back and look up at his face.

"It wasn't a shit …"

"Yes it was," he interrupts, heaving a tired sigh. "Don't sugar-coat it."

"Yes, sir," you mumble. "How do you feel?"

He runs a hand through his hair before answering. "Physically, not too bad. Mentally, like total shit."

You swallow hard and give a quick nod, a little disconcerted that he seems to be looking right through you; before you can think of something to say he speaks up again.

"Listen, Sam's gonna pick me up in a few minutes. We're having a team meeting at his house tonight."

"The whole team?" you ask.

"No, just the Captains and a few other guys." He picks his bag up and heads for the stairs before continuing. "We've gotta figure some shit out, make sure we're on the same page then put it to bed." He pauses halfway up the stairs and finally makes good eye contact with you. "The entire season is on the line; somebody has to light a fire under our asses and …"

"You're just the man to do it," you interject, giving him what you hope looks like an encouraging smile.

"Exactly," he states, before disappearing upstairs.

He reappears a few minutes later wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, quickly checking his phone when it chimes with a new text. "Sam's here," he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead before heading for the door. "I may be late getting home. Don't wait up."

Your eyebrows head for your hairline as he breezes out the door. "Love you, too," you grumble under your breath after the door closes behind him. You try not to take his abrupt departure personally, but you're feeling a little sorry for yourself when the door slings open and he walks back in. "Did you forget something?" you ask.

"Yeah," he answers, striding up to you. He leans down and gives you a lingering kiss before pulling back. "Love you," he states. "Love you, too," you answer, giving him a big grin as he hurries back out the door. "Telepathic ass," you chuckle once he's gone. "I swear that man can read my mind."

~ ~ ~

A couple hours later you wake up abruptly and sit straight up in bed, your heart pounding for several seconds until you realize the noise that woke you is just Joe in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He eventually walks into the bedroom giving you a sheepish grin when he sees you. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he mutters, crawling into bed and basically faceplanting into his pillow.

"It's okay," you soothe, turning onto your side to face him; you run your fingernails up and down his bare back, smiling at his muffled groans. "That feels good," he mumbles into his pillow, a shiver running down his spine when you slide your hand into his hair to lightly scratch his scalp.

"Did y'all figure some things out?" you ask, admiring his tall frame which is clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs.

"Mmm-hmm. Mainly that I sucked today and we won't win shit until I get better."

"The whole team sucked today, not just you."

"Thanks for admitting I sucked."

You roll your eyes and give his ample ass a loud smack before rubbing it.

"Don't get me started," he warns.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I know where this is headed, but I don't feel like having sex tonight."

You withdraw your hand and scoot away from him. "Sorry," you whisper. "I just thought … nevermind."

"Listen," he sighs, flopping over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "I don't want pity sex, and there's no way you're turned on after how awful I played today."

You narrow your eyes at the slight slur in his speech. "Have you been drinking?"

"A little."

"Then I won't tear your ass up about projecting until you sober up."

"What do you mean projecting?"

"You know exactly what I mean." You take a deep breath before continuing. "We've had this conversation before."

"Refresh my memory."

"Should probably wait until tomorrow. I'm in no mood to sugar-coat it tonight."

"Fuck sugar-coating," he snorts, "tell me what you're thinking."

"Fine." You push up into a sitting position and look down at him, the hallway light providing just enough illumination to make out his petulant expression. "When you lose a game you get really down on yourself, and you project that feeling onto me. But -- like I've said several times before -- the way I feel about you is not determined by whether or not you win fucking football games, okay? If you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything. Why is that so hard to understand?"

"I just …"

"I'm not finished," you interrupt. "I'm starting to think you're the one who doesn't want sex after the team loses, which is fine, but you need to quit blaming it on me." You slide out of bed as you finish your mini tirade. "I'm not sleepy anymore," you state as you head for the door. "I'm gonna go get some work done."

You walk down the hallway to your office, shutting the door behind you before dropping into your desk chair with an annoyed sigh; you click your desk lamp on and run a hand through your hair. "Way to overreact, dumbass," you grumble under your breath, immediately feeling guilty. "You know he always needs extra affirmation after a loss and instead you chewed him out. Better go apologize."

You stand up and head for the door, stopping in your tracks when you hear a soft knock. "Come in," you call, biting your lip as he walks into the room. "I'm sorry," you blurt before he can say anything, quickly closing the distance to wrap your arms around him. "I overreacted."

He returns your hug for several heartbeats before leaning back to lock eyes with you. "You don't need to apologize. I need to stop being an insecure brat every time I lose a damn game."

"You don't really think I lose attraction to you after a loss, right? I used to think you were just teasing, but I seriously can't tell anymore."

He shrugs his broad shoulders, the action causing his forehead curls to bounce. "I'm mostly teasing, but I've been feeling pretty bad about myself lately so I guess I've been fishing for compliments more than usual." He gives you a sheepish smile. "And I was def hoping to have sex tonight. I guess I laid the pity party on a little too thick, though."

"So -- to be clear -- when you said you didn't feel like having pity sex …"

"I really meant I wanted you to seduce me. To show me you still want me even though I played like shit."

"Okay, that's good to know. I mean, that's what I normally do when you get in this mood, but it's starting to feel like I might be boundary stomping."

"You're not boundary stomping." He slides his hands down your back and cups your ass before easily lifting you up, smiling when you wrap your legs around his waist. "If I really didn't want sex I'd let you know, but don't count on that happening anytime soon," he states, punctuating his words with a throaty chuckle that sets off a steady throb of arousal in all the right places.

He walks to your desk chair and drops into it with you straddling his lap, his lips immediately on your neck after he pulls your t-shirt off and drops it on the floor. You lean your head to the side to give him better access, moaning at the feel of his mouth on your neck and his hands on your breasts, his agile fingers teasing you with barely-there touches before pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples just hard enough to make you gasp his name. "You like that?" he whispers against your ear, his hot breath causing a gush of wetness in your core. "Yeah," you whimper, grinding your crotch against his obvious erection as he continues to tease you.

He eventually drops a hand down and rubs your clit through your panties before slipping his fingers inside to play with your wet folds, his deep voice in your ear sending shock waves of pleasure down your spine as he slides a long finger inside you, adding a second finger when you beg for more. "So wet for me," he growls, making a feral noise deep in his throat when you start riding his fingers, slow at first then faster, your breathless whimpers leveling up to louder moans when he latches his pretty lips onto a nipple, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks on the hardened peak.

"Don't stop!" you urge, biting your lip when he pulls off one nipple and moves to the other, giving it a gentle nip with his teeth before sucking it into his hot mouth. "I'm so close," you whine as he grinds his thumb against your clit while pumping his fingers inside you, a steady stream of whimpers spilling from your lips as your climax hits. You bury your face in his fragrant neck and gasp for breath, feeling lightheaded by the intensity of the orgasm, existing in a state of total bliss for several minutes until your dainty desk chair gives an ominous-sounding creak.

"Uh-oh," you pant, leaning back to lock eyes with him. "I think both of us in this chair is too much."

The chair makes another, even louder creak and Joe raises his eyebrows. "Why do you have such a flimsy-ass desk chair?"

"Because it's cute and comfy. Plus it's perfectly fine when it's just me sitting in it."

"You calling me fat?" he asks playfully, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

"No, you goober," you giggle, easing yourself off of his lap to settle on your knees on the floor between his manspread thighs. "You're tall and muscular and big," you state. "Deliciously big," you continue, ghosting your fingers over his impressive erection while licking your lips. "Let's lose these," you whisper, pulling his undies off and tossing them to the side.

You take your time enjoying the view before dropping open-mouthed kisses up the long length of his thick thighs, his soft, blonde leg hair tickling your lips as you work your way up to his crotch; he sucks your essence off of his fingers as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, the look on his face making you want to do deliciously naughty things to him.

"You're gorgeous," you whisper, sliding your hands over his abs, smiling when his muscles tighten under your touch. The heat radiating off of his big, hard body makes you more than a little lightheaded, and his scent -- a purely masculine musk -- literally makes your mouth water. You decide to let him know. "You make my mouth water," you groan, continuing to drop kisses near, but not quite on, his hard cock.

"No I don't," he scoffs, color rushing into his cheeks at the compliment.

It always amazes you when he gets shy about his good looks; in his mind he's still a nerdy guy, and he's not quite comfortable with the fact that he grew up to be a total sex god. You give him a sultry grin as you double down.

"You 100 percent make my mouth water. Want me to show you?"

He studies your face for a bit before responding. "Yeah … show me."

"Okay." You take your time gathering the excess saliva on your tongue before opening your mouth, letting the spit drizzle down on his shaft while holding eye contact with him. "So fucking hot," he hisses, his cock twitching as you lean down and flatten your tongue against it, licking base to tip before lapping at the precum on the plump, velvety head. The sensual, uniquely masculine taste has another flood of saliva pouring into your mouth; you lean back and lock eyes with him as you gather the moisture again, this time spitting it in your hand before wrapping your fist around his thick shaft, jacking him with smooth, steady strokes for a minute before dropping your head back down to tease him with your lips and tongue, slowly replacing your hand with your mouth as you take him deep, your gag reflex firing a few times before you hit just the right angle to deep throat him.

He buries his hands in your hair as you pleasure him, the words of praise spilling from his lips interspersed with soft grunts and groans that go straight to your core. Tears roll down your cheeks, and he brushes them away then lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the salty liquid before hissing in pleasure as you lightly scratch your fingernails over his balls.

"Shit, babe, hold up a sec," he grits out. "I don't wanna cum yet." You pull off of his erection with an audible pop, wiping a hand over the spit and precum coating your chin while panting to catch your breath. "Just let me know what you need," you offer, your pulse picking up at the feral look on his face. He loudly sucks his plump bottom lip into his mouth, the action and noise so suggestive that you feel your core throbbing in unison with your racing heartbeat.

"I need to taste you," he purrs, his voice husky with desire. "Then I need to fuck you."

The throbbing in your core escalates, and you cup a hand over your soaked panties to try and ease the almost-painful ache; his gaze flicks down to your crotch before returning to your face, the carnal promise in his smile making your pleasure points hum with anticipation.

"How sturdy is your desk?" he asks, eyeing it as if sizing it up for a naughty, vigorous romp.

"Not sturdy," you mutter, gasping in surprise when he quickly stands up and reaches down, wrapping his hands around your waist and picking you up before striding for the door; you wrap your legs around him and bury your face in his neck as he walks to the bedroom.

He sits you on the edge of the bed and slides your panties off in one smooth motion, dropping to his knees on the floor between your spread thighs; you lean back on your elbows and watch as he lowers his head and flutters his tongue over your clit before plunging his tongue inside you, the noise you make causing him to lock eyes with you as he repeats the action. "I'm gonna cum in ten seconds if you keep that up," you whimper, biting your lip when he lifts your legs over his broad shoulders. "Then let's slow it down," he purrs against your most sensitive flesh, the vibrations from his deep voice causing a shiver of pleasure to shoot through you. "I'm gonna take my time," he continues, dropping delicate kisses and licks on your aching folds while avoiding your clit.

After what seems like an eternity on the edge, you decide to take matters into your own hands; you slide a hand in his messy curls and give a tug, using the leverage to grind your pussy against his face in a way you know he loves. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growls once you let him come up for air, his eyes dark with lust when he raises his head to look at you. "I'm seriously about to cum," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat when you quickly lift your legs off of his shoulders and slide off the bed, straddling him and reaching a hand down to line his cock up with your slick entrance before taking him balls deep.

He makes a noise that's half groan/half growl and 100% primal when your core clenches his thick length; you dig your fingers into his muscular shoulders and start riding him hard, whimpering on every down stroke at the feel of him bottoming out. He leans you back until your back is pressed against the edge of the bed, the new angle causing him to hit your sweet spot on every stroke. "Just like that!" you pant, moaning when he drops a hand down to tease your clit. "Fuck, baby," he hisses as his climax hits, the hot spurts coating your core as he pinches your clit with just the right amount of pressure to pull your trigger.

The sound of your mutual heavy breathing is the only noise you hear for several minutes; when you finally open your eyes and look at him, you have to smile at how totally fucked out he looks. "I think I passed out for a sec," you pant. "Me too," he chuckles.

~ ~ ~

Thirty minutes later -- after a shared shower where both of you laughingly complained about your shaky legs -- y'all are lying in bed, trading yawns and agreeing to sleep late the next morning.

You're just on the edge of sleep when he speaks up. "Babe? You still awake?"

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

The silence stretches out for a minute before he speaks up again. "It's kind of stupid, I guess. Maybe I'll keep it to myself."

"What is it?" you ask, sitting up so you can look down at him.

He scrunches his perfect nose up. "We have two games left before the bye week."

"Yeah, Cardinals and Seahawks."

"If I play really awful like I did today, and we lose both of those games, will you still secretly marry me during the bye?"

You give a snort of laughter before you realize he's not laughing with you. "Are you serious?"

"A little, yeah."

You take a deep breath before responding. "Remember that convo we had earlier tonight when I said if you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything?"

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbles.

"Well, let me drive that point home a little harder." You brush his curls off of his forehead and give him a smile before continuing. "If you play like total dogshit in both games, throw twenty picks, lose fifty to nothing, and cut a huge fart in the post-game pressers, I'll still want you more than anything. I can't wait to secretly -- and eventually not-so-secretly -- marry you. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah," he laughs along with you for a minute before quieting down. "Sorry I'm being such a needy baby lately."

"You're being human instead of a robot," you soothe, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. "It's a nice change," you say cheekily, giggling when he flips you over and lands a loud smack on your ass. "Don't get me started," you echo his words from earlier.

He rolls you back over and pushes up on an elbow, looking down at you in the dim lighting. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I know where this is headed," you purr, licking your lips just before his mouth captures yours.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

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hwaslayer · 2 months

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love you in slow motion (psh) | one.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, the warmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 5.7k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, hints of a toxic relationship & ex-bf, mentions of a broken family and death, just a good ol' intro to hwa and oc + their dynamic + their family dynamics, buried feelings and overthinking!!

"Seonghwa?" Your cousin, Soyeon, calls for him on the other line. Soyeon rarely ever calls Seonghwa, but when she does,��it's usually for good reason.

"Soyeon, what's up?" Seonghwa says, hand on his hip as he tries to regulate his breathing after a late night boxing session with Wooyoung and Hongjoong.

"Y/N said she would be home earlier, but she hasn't been. Yaya's worried, I'm worried. It's pouring outside." She says frantically. He sighs, stomach slightly dropping at the statement.

"Okay, where did she go last? I haven't heard from her since earlier this morning." Soyeon lets out a hefty sigh.

"Of course she wouldn't tell you. She was with Mingi." She says sarcastically, knowing Seonghwa would be upset with you for giving in, yet once again. Seonghwa had no issues giving you the 'I told you so' every single time you've been with your shitty ex-boyfriend. He always makes you cry, and it never fails. He doesn't understand why the fuck you keep running back to him. So to Seonghwa, it's not surprising that you kept this from him. Doesn't stop him from pinching the bridge of his nose before nodding, though.

"Alright, I'll find her. Don't worry."

"Thank you. Seriously. When you see her, you better tell her to stop seeing that fucking asshole. All he does is treat her like shit."

"Yeah, I know. Are you and Junseo home now?"

"Yeah, we are. We were gonna go to Yaya's but she told me to call you first before anything."

"Good, stay put. I'll take care of it and text you. She won't be far."

"God, such a headache. Thank you, Seonghwa."

"Course." He sighs as he ends the call, tossing his phone onto his duffle bag before un-doing the wrap around his hands.

"Done already?" Wooyoung asks, making Hongjoong shift his attention to the platinum blonde while they stand near the bag.

"I gotta go find Y/N."

"What? What happened?"

"Who knows, she was with Mingi."

"Dude is always bad news." Hongjoong chimes in, watching as Seonghwa throws his hoodie on and slings the duffle bag strap over his shoulder.

"Tell me about it." Seonghwa rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Text us when you're all good. Hope she's okay."

"She's fine. Just needa get her out of this rain." He says, giving them one last wave as he walks out of the studio and down the steps. Soyeon is right; the rain has picked up over the last few hours, creating huge puddles near the sidewalks and curbs due to the intensity. The stream of water makes a loud noise as it falls into the drain nearby, the loud pour of the rainfall echoing throughout the empty street. Seonghwa drags the hood over his head, doing a slight jog to his parked car on the side of the studio. Luckily for him, he knows where Song Mingi lives. Luckily for him, this town isn't that big and you couldn't have gotten far.

Luckily for him, he's right.

He finds you walking about two blocks away from Mingi's place, just getting ready to turn the corner to lord knows where. He slowly drives alongside of you, rolling down his passenger window to peak over at you. He's glad he found you when he did because you have a flimsy hoodie and leggings on, the hood completely drenched and barely doing anything to protect you from this rain.

"What are you doing, Seonghwa?" You ask, eyes glued forward as you continue to walk.

"What does it look like? Get in, you're gonna get sick." You squint your eyes at him as you continue to walk. "Y/N."

"How did you even know where to find me?"

"It's not hard to figure out when you're with Mingi." He quickly glances at the street ahead, making sure there are no oncoming cars or passengers in the way. "Plus, Soyeon called. Her and Yaya are worried because you told them you'd be home earlier."

"Of course." You mumble.

"Y/N, get inside and stop being stubborn."

"Seonghwa—" He starts to obnoxiously honk his horn on the quiet street, making your eyes widen at him. You continuously tell him to stop and to quit being so loud, however, his efforts don't stop. "Park Seonghwa, what the fuck! Fine!" You groan loudly, quickly opening the door when he stops the car. You plop yourself onto the seat, glaring at him. "Happy?!"

"Not really, but at least you're in the car." He locks the doors and turns up the heat, driving off to his 1 bedroom apartment. "You can stay at mine for tonight so you don't stress out Yaya." He keeps his eyes on the road, thoughts shifting to your grandma and how worried she might be right now.

"She won't even be that—"

"She sure as hell will, Y/N. Besides, who the hell wants to argue with you this late at night? It's almost 1am. Knowing your ass and how you never listen, even though you should." He sighs. "I'll take you home tomorrow morning before I head to work."

"Whatever." You cross your arms, still feeling cold and uncomfortable after being in the rain.

"Why were you walking in the rain?" He asks, most definitely knowing the answer already. Your nights with Mingi always end on some toxic shit, all this yelling and back and forth— arguing over empty promises and issues from the past.

And for what? The dude is never gonna change. Seonghwa isn't sure what the hell you're holding out hope for.

"I'll tell you if you spare me the 'I told you so.'" He shakes his head.

"Can't promise."

"Then you don't get shit from me."

"Why do you let him do this to you?"

"Wow, that's actually worse than an 'I told you so.'"

"I'm being serious." He glances at you with a very mixed expression, mainly serious and worrisome tones.

"I don't know, okay. I wish I could tell you." It's silent for a minute, the only sounds filling the car are the rain pounding against the windshield and the heat on high.

The thing about Seonghwa being your bestfriend of 16 years is the fact that you can always rely on him to be there no matter what. He's always so, so good to you; always so caring, so supportive and so protective. You've never had to ask Seonghwa for anything because he always gives, and is always ready to give. Just like tonight, when he shouldn't be here but he is.

He had been yours, just as you had been his since the beginning.

Sometimes, it's easy to believe you don't deserve someone like Seonghwa by your side.

You met this adorably shy, sweet kid when he was introduced to your class as a new transfer in the 3rd grade, most kids in your class politely saying hello but going about their own business afterwards. You, though, had stuck around to show Seonghwa his new school and to eat with him. Since then, your relationship had flourished. His dad had become bestfriends with your own dad, the two of you always going on family trips together, hanging out at each other's homes, going to the same schools onward— Seonghwa was always there, you were always there. He had seen you through your very best, seen you through your very worst. Was there during your highs, was there during your lows. Knows exactly how to push you right to the very edge, but also knows how to make up for his dumb mistakes. Knows exactly how to handle you, attitude, temper and all, knows exactly what makes you happy, what makes you sad.

He knows you like the back of his hand.

Probably better than you know yourself.

Seonghwa became the golden child though, you know? He had loving parents who supported him through everything. He was a superb student [a teacher's pet, if you may], an athlete, a prodigy; always winning numerous awards and medals throughout his academic and athletic career. He had countless talents and a positive energy that people admired him for, though shy and timid in the beginning. He got along well with people and was the ultimate charmer. Attractive, had his way with the ladies— albeit, he can be an idiot when he thinks with his dick from time to time and not his brain. But nonetheless, Seonghwa is Seonghwa. He would never intentionally hurt a soul, would never intentionally give people what they didn't deserve. To be clear though, Seonghwa has his fair share of mistakes and fuck-ups, but in the end, he would always apologize when in the wrong and make up for his actions. While you, on the other hand, were his polar opposite and struggled to find your place in this crazy, crazy world.

You had never met your biological mother, and your dad had spent majority of your earlier years working graveyard to keep food on the table, to keep sending you to a good school. You spent most of your childhood growing up at Yaya's house, where your dad's sister and her family lived for awhile. That's how your older cousin Soyeon became the sister you've never had, somebody else you could rely on, fight with and experience the ups and downs with. Things were good, and they were good for awhile until you lost your dad to a rare and sudden illness.

Then, things went downhill for you.

You continued to stay at Yaya's, only having her, Soyeon and her family, Seonghwa and his family by your side. You began to push people away, you got into trouble and made dumb mistakes that hurt your loved ones more times than you'd like to admit. You had your moments where you acted solely on feelings instead of being rational. You had no filter, not being afraid of telling people if they were wrong even if it meant hurting their feelings to no end. You no longer got along well with most people, finding it hard to vibe well with majority of the crowd. No longer caring about what was in the know, what was trending; was incredibly selective about who you gave your time and effort to in fear of losing more loved ones dear to your heart.

Without Seonghwa at your side, you're not sure where you'd be. Because truly, if it wasn't for him, you don't think you would have continued to try. He was the only thing that remained constant in your life, one of the only people who continued to show you genuine care and love despite your flaws and all.

"Have you eaten?" He suddenly speaks and changes the topic, not wanting to upset you any more than you already are.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something." You don't respond. "Mom made some kimbap today, I can set some aside for you."

"Thanks." You say softly, watching as the car finally drives into the familiar apartment complex. Seonghwa turns the wheel with one hand, pulling into his assigned parking spot before shutting off the car. He lets out a sigh before looking over at you, noticing you're still in your sad, sulky position in the passenger seat.

"Ready? Or should we just sleep in here tonight?" You slowly turn and glare at him, mocking him before answering dramatically— knowing it's the most childish thing you can do right now, especially after Seonghwa took the time to find you and pick you up in this rain.

"Why don't you just leave me here?"

"Good with me. At least I don't have to lend you any more of my clothes and have you sleeping on my couch. Matter of fact, more kimbap for me." He says, stepping out of the car, keys rattling in his pocket as he turns to shut his car door. He continues to walk without worry because he knows the shit you pull.

You'll end up following him.

He doesn't even have to turn over his shoulder to make sure you do. He hears the car door slam after a few minutes, and he smirks a bit to himself before locking the car using the key fob in his pocket.

"You really have to slam my car door like that?" He asks, slightly looking over his shoulder before climbing up the steps.

"Sorry." You mumble, pathetically following your bestfriend with your arms crossed tightly against your chest. He unlocks his door and waits for you to make it up the steps, letting you step in and out of your shoes first before following you inside. He tosses his keys onto the entryway table before walking into the kitchen and pulling out his phone to text Soyeon that you were safe with him for the night.

"You can go shower first. Just take whatever you want from my closet." He says, eyes focused on the bag of kimbap his mom had dropped off earlier in the day. You simply nod and head straight to his closet, grabbing some pajama pants and a longsleeve. You toss your clothes into the bathroom sink, mentally making a note to ask Seonghwa if you can throw in a load of his laundry with your clothes. The last thing you wanna do is make a mess in Seonghwa's super clean apartment, let alone drag home some wet clothes from the night prior.

The shower you take is short, but relaxing. You let the hot water beat down on you, thoroughly scrubbing and scratching every inch of your body, your scalp. When you finish, you lather some lotion and pad back out to his living room. Seonghwa glances up, watching as you come towards him with his long pajama pants and a long sleeve with sleeves that falls past your hands. He thinks you're the cutest thing he has ever seen [especially in his clothes], but he subtly bites onto his bottom lip to suppress the smile forming at his lips.

"Can I do some of your laundry so I can wash my clothes? They're just sitting in your bathroom sink." He shrugs.

"Don't worry about it, I'll toss it in there before I hop into the shower." He slides a small plate on the counter of his kitchen island bar area, before handing you a hot cup of green tea. "Eat at least one." You nod, watching as he washes his hands and begins to make his way to the bathroom. You're hungrier than you thought, popping in all the pieces of kimbap Seonghwa prepared for you before downing the green tea. In the end, you feel full, satisfied.

Content.

Warm.

After a good thirty minutes, Seonghwa is out of the shower and tossing the load into the dryer. He's ruffling his semi-dry hair as he brings out a thick blanket for you, glancing at the random Cars movie playing on the tv.

"Here." He says. "You finished eating?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. I'm gonna go to bed then." He turns to head into his room.

"Hwa, can't you just sleep out here with me?" You point at the free part of his L-shaped sectional couch.

"Why, when I have a perfectly comfortable bed to sleep on in here?" He points to his room, but you pout.

"But, you also have an amazing couch that you can share with your bestfriend."

"You snore and you move around too much."

"I do not, and you'd be on that side of the couch anyway!" You furrow your brows. "You snore, too!"

"Not as loud as you, sounding like you belong in that Cars movie." He glances at the tv screen while making the dumb joke, and you groan.

"Okay, fine. Whatever." You succumb to defeat and wave the white flag. "I just don't necessarily wanna be alone."

"You're not, I'm right here."

"Pichu." Ah, there it is. That stupid nickname he's painfully grown to adore after you've told him time and time again that he looks just like the pokemon. He sighs, realizing you probably won't let this up. On top of that, he knows he can't say no to you regarding most things. So, he drags himself into his room and rips off his duvet comforter from the bed to bring with him into the living room. He sets himself up on one section of the couch, while you take up the other— heads meeting at the corner.

"The moment you rip out a big snore, I'm leaving you out here." He warns and you snort.

"You're a dick. I don't even snore like that."

"And how would you know, sleeping beauty?" He looks at you, heart content with the way you happily look at him from your side of the couch. You have no rebuttal though, so he shuts off the tv and rests his hand on the back of his head while closing his eyes. "Thought so. Get some sleep, it's getting late." He hears you rustling underneath your own blankets, head gently knocking onto the side of his that makes him suck his teeth. "Y/N." He groans with a whiney tone. "This is what I mean."

"Sorry, sorry." You pout, rubbing the side of his head. "I'm good now." You mumble underneath the blankets as you settle, satisfied with your warm and bundled position. You can hear Seonghwa's soft breathing behind you, signaling that he'll probably fall asleep soon [and quick, too]. "Hwa?" You softly call for him one last time.

"Hm?" He hums.

"Thank you." You pause. "For everything."

"You know I care about you more than anything, right?" He says, close to a whisper. "You deserve way better."

"Yeah." Is all you respond with before closing your eyes, hoping to finally be at peace for the remainder of the night. "Love you, pichu." You say sleepily.

"Love you, too." He feels the statement tug at his heart strings because Seonghwa does love you, he has loved you for years. Been in love with you for years. But you were always the most important, this dynamic and relationship was the most important, that he's learned to suppress and live with it— even though at times, he feels like he gives it away pretty easily, or lets his emotions get to the best of him.

Everyone can tell.

Everyone knows.

Everyone but you.

Surprisingly, you do fall asleep before Seonghwa. He can't help but peek from his peripherals, noticing your steady breathing under the covers. Your head is barely poking out from the covers, making Seonghwa smile to himself. He settles a little closer to you, top of your head tucked near the crook of his neck as he slightly turns towards your side and finally shuts his eyes to get some sleep.

When you wake up the following morning, it's because Seonghwa's cussing to himself as he runs to grab his ringing phone on the island counter. His eyes quickly dart to you as he snatches the phone and answers the call, noticing you're starting to wake up.

"Sorry, Y/N." He apologizes and you let out a small squeak as you stretch and shake your head.

"It's okay, Hwa. Should probably get up anyway." You rub at your eyes, watching as he paces back into his room to finish getting ready for work. He's apparently talking to Wooyoung, agreeing to pick the guy up after bringing you home since they work at the same place— two athletic trainers for the men's sports teams at one of the universities in town, Wooyoung and Seonghwa mainly taking care of the football and basketball teams, popping into other sports if the help is urgently needed. They've both worked really hard to earn their current positions, being two of the leads who focus on training, treatment and rehabilitating their athletes at homebase, and only participating in a few quick trips for away games if asked.

As you stand and start to fold the blanket, you catch sight of how tired Seonghwa looks and you feel terrible. You know Seonghwa loves to test his limits, working out late after his shifts and barely getting 8 hours of sleep right before a busy day of tending to athletes. Despite your nagging and lecturing him on getting more rest, Hwa has gotten used to doing things this way.

However, part of you still feels guilty that he doesn't look as bright and alert this morning because of you. Because you needed more saving, because you chose to be stubborn and listen to Mingi even though he hasn't given you a reason to trust him since you've broken up.

"I didn't mean to wake you so early."

"I mean, you do have to leave soon, don't you?" You check the clock, peeping the current time as 8:27am. "Isn't this really late for you, actually?" Especially during the season, Seonghwa is always at work by 6AM, leaving super late in the afternoon. Off-season is a little easier for him, being that practice schedules are spread out due to sharing space with other sports/teams.

"Not for today. The team is lifting right now, I need to work on some rehab reports first before training and practice later today." You nod. "Are you good to leave soon then?"

"Of course."

"Okay, let me just grab a few things so we can head out. I need to pick up Wooyoung's lazy ass."

"He's not in to help with lifting?"

"Not anymore. Dude overslept." You snort.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Director Shin loves him. She would never get him in trouble or scold him."

"She loves you, too." You say.

"Not as much as Wooyoung. She'll bite my head off first before she ever thinks about coming for him." He throws in some food into his duffle bag solely for work. The duffle bag is huge, having the university's name plastered on the side in big, bold letters— followed by his name etched onto the corner with his athletic training certification. "By the way." He points at your neatly folded, washed clothes on the coffee table. "Don't forget your clothes."

"Thanks."

"Are you just gonna go home like that?" He eyes his clothes on your figure.

"Yeah, why not?" He shrugs.

"Alright then. Let's go." He pats himself down to double check that he has everything on him before heading out of the door. You lazily follow behind after slipping into your sneakers, having to roll up Seonghwa's pajama pants so that they don't reach the floor and get dirty. You plop into the passenger's seat with your clothes on your lap, rubbing at your eyes once situated. "You didn't have to get up so early. I technically don't need to be there until 10."

"It's fine, Hwa."

"Did you tell Yaya we were on the way?"

"No, I'll just surprise her when I get there." You smile and he shakes his head.

"You need to stop worrying your grandma and your cousin."

"I'm not even doing anything!"

"You're not? Then, what was last night?" He glances at you then lets out a small scoff. "Exactly. And please stop running back to Mingi. That dude isn't gonna change, and you know that. All he does is make you upset and I can't stand it. You two aren't good for each other."

"I hear you." You say lowly, head leaning against the passenger window.

"I'm sorry." He lets out a breath, genuinely just worried about you and your wellbeing. "I don't mean to do this so early, but I just get worried about you." He ruffles your hair a bit, causing a small smile to creep up on the corners of your lips.

"It's okay. I need to hear it." He chuckles.

"Yeah, you do. You're such a fucking headache." He jokes. "But you're important to me, and all I want is for you to be happy." He pinches your cheeks, making you scrunch your nose.

"Thanks Hwa." He looks at you while posted at a stop light, admiring the way you scrunch your nose and let out a little giggle. That's how he likes to see you. Not upset, sad, or crying. Especially over Song Mingi.

The drive to your house isn't too far, or at least, it never feels too far since you and Seonghwa always engage in conversations about various things while in the car. He pulls into Yaya's driveway, parking right next to Soyeon's car. You occupy the tiny detached in-law suite in the corner of the backyard, so Seonghwa isn't surprised when you try to scurry to the backyard to avoid Yaya and Soyeon.

"She's here!" He yells and points at you.

"You're a pain in the fucking ass, Park." You glare at him while you simultaneously hear Yaya telling you to come into the house and to not even think about running into the backyard.

"Oh, Yaya! Miss damsel in distress just walked in."

"Y/N. You should've called or texted. We were worried when we didn't hear from you." Yaya looks at you disappointingly while whipping up some breakfast.

"Sorry." You mumble as Seonghwa brushes past you to kiss ass to Yaya.

"Always needing her bestfriend to come and save the day." Soyeon says sarcastically before crossing his arms. "Seriously, what the hell would you do without Hwa? And why the hell didn't you make it home in time or text to let us know you'd be late?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Hi to you too." You squint at her. "He was supposed to bring me home but we got into another stupid fight, that's all." You roll your eyes before glancing at the empty luggages she has next to her.

"So, he just let you walk in the rain? What a fucking dick."

"Language." Yaya warns, glaring at the two of you from the kitchen next to Seonghwa, who is quickly peeling a banana he took from the fruit basket.

"Where are you going?" You nod at the luggages.

"Me and Junseo are heading to Japan in a few days." She smiles. "We're way overdue for our anniversary vacation. Meaning, you're gonna have to man the restaurant." You groan. "And watch Charli? Pretty please." She pleads in a sweet tone, knowing you'll always do anything for their 3 year old daughter.

"Seriously?!"

"Charli loves staying with you and Yaya! And all you have to do for the restaurant is make sure everything runs smoothly and be the cute waitress that you already are! It's nothing you haven't done! Plus, Yoongi and Jini will be there, and Charli will be in preschool for the most part." At this point, you whine [moreso about maintaining the restaurant] while Soyeon continues to check the list on her phone.

"Speaking of the restaurant, are you free tonight?" Seonghwa chimes in, looking at his phone.

"I don't know, depends on my boss here." You glare at Soyeon before looking back at Seonghwa. "Why?"

"San is back home so we're going out to the bar."

"Excuse me?!" You yell. "What the fuck!"

"Hey!" Yaya glares at you again. "Say that word one more time in my house."

"Okay, I'm sorry!" You point at Seonghwa. "But, you! Why didn't you tell me about Sannie coming back?!"

"How could I? You were too busy sulking over Mingi." He says, furrowing his brows with a cheek full of banana. Soyeon snorts and shakes her head, making you glare at the both of them.

"Ha-ha very funny. You didn't think you could tell me any other day?"

"Well, he wasn't even supposed to be coming back until next week. But he just texted us saying he decided to come back early and that he's already settled at the condo his uncle owns."

"Why aren't I getting these texts?" Seonghwa smirks and flicks your chin with his finger.

"Because boys need to talk about boy things."

"Oh whatever, it's not like any of you are getting any—"

"Seonghwa, please. Tell that girl to stop talking like that." Yaya pleads for him to tell you to keep it quiet. He chuckles a bit before looking at you pointedly, tapping the tip of your nose.

"Stop that." He smiles down at you. "And who said we weren't?"

"Please, all you guys do is yell while playing FIFA and Mario Party." You sigh. "Anyway, I'm going back to sleep for a bit. I'll come in for an earlier shift at the restaurant so that I can see Sannie." You direct the statement at Soyeon and all she does is nod.

"Pick you up afterwards then?"

"Ah, it's okay. Usual bar, right?" He nods. "I'll just bus over." You tap his chest. "Thanks pichu, see you later. Have fun at work!" At this point, Yaya is walking towards Soyeon and Seonghwa, hands placed on her hips as she observes you skipping to your in-law suite.

"Hwa." Yaya tugs on his arm before he can help Soyeon pack the large luggages in her trunk and head out to pick up Wooyoung.

"Hm?"

"It should just be you two." She pouts, making Seonghwa laugh. Time and time again, Yaya has always pushed the 'you and Seonghwa' agenda, stating that you two were meant to be together. And Seonghwa doesn't mind, he always laughs about it. He kinda likes that Yaya [everyone, really] thinks so, and if things were easy, he'd make it happen without question. But things aren't— because there's always that voice in the back of his head that tells him he needs to leave things as they are or else everything will be ruined.

He doesn't want that.

He would rather bury his feelings than lose you.

There's no way you'd go that route with him. You've made it clear to everyone that Seonghwa was your bestfriend and your bestfriend only. That people need to quit shoving the idea down your throat because you could never; he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt to hear it.

"Yaya, you already know the answer to that." He says anyway and she pouts even more, leaning her head against his firm bicep.

"But you're the only one who knows how to handle her. She's such a handful but you've always stayed by her side."

"Mm, I don't think I necessarily had a choice." Yaya chuckles and gently swats his arm playfully.

"You two should just kiss and get married."

"Kiss and get married? Wow. What a plan." Soyeon says sarcastically, making Seonghwa laugh.

"No can do with that one." He places a small kiss on the top of her head before helping Soyeon with the last large luggage. "I gotta pick up Wooyoung and head to work. Text or call me if you need me." Seonghwa says.

"Make sure my baby cousin doesn't do anything reckless tonight when she's out with you guys? Like, I don't know, run to Mingi while drunk?" Seonghwa shakes his head at Soyeon's response.

"Won't let her out of my sight." He waves one last goodbye before settling into his car and driving off.

It's 20 minutes to Wooyoung's apartment, and another 15 to the university from there. When he arrives, Wooyoung tosses his own duffle bag in the back and plops into the passenger's seat before slouching into it.

"Did you find babygirl?" Wooyoung asks, making Seonghwa furrow his brows at him.

"Yes I did, and stop calling her that."

"Why, are you jealous? You can't gatekeep Y/N to yourself. I'm close to her, too." Wooyoung smirks.

"Shut up before I make you walk to work." Seonghwa glares at him. "It's not even that, it's just weird."

"Why is it weird?"

"Because it is."

"Because you love her?"

"Get the hell out—"

"I'm sorry! I'm kidding!" Wooyoung says in a high-pitched tone before laughing. "But, really, it's not weird."

"Yes, it is."

"She loves it and she's used to it. Therefore, I'll keep using it. Resting my case, your honor." Wooyoung snorts. "What happened last night anyway?"

"I don't know, she got into a fight with Mingi and walked out."

"He didn't come after her? It was pouring."

"Nope. She was gonna walk to.. I don't know, actually. She was just walking in the rain."

"That's not okay." Wooyoung sucks his teeth and does a slight head tilt. "They're toxic as hell to each other." Seonghwa shrugs.

"I know. I tried to tell her but at a certain point, that's all I can do. It gets really hard to control someone's behavior and police their actions."

"Can I ask you something?" Wooyoung looks at him with a small smile. "I'm genuinely curious."

"What?"

"Why haven't you made your move on Y/N? Your feelings for her have always been obvious."

"Have they? Seems like she's the only one who hasn't seen it." Wooyoung shrugs.

"Yeah. I mean, you drop everything— and I mean everything— for her without question. And you get all affectionate with her!" His tone raises a bit. "You hate initiating affection! If that ain't love.." Wooyoung tilts his head again and squints at Seonghwa.

"She's my bestfriend. All of that happens naturally."

"It's not just that, and you know it. I know people really do put their bestfriends on a pedestal, but you put babygirl before anyone and anything. Even yourself." Seonghwa slightly winces at the Wooyoung's nickname before shaking his head.

"Not true."

"Very true. Look, dude. It's not bad, but I do hope you leave some space for yourself. I know she would never intentionally hurt you, but it still doesn't eliminate the possibility of getting hurt at some point. I don't want that to happen, especially if you've poured everything in her over these years." Seonghwa lets out a breath and pauses for a moment because for once, Wooyoung makes sense. And he's right. He has poured everything in you, continues to pour everything in you very willingly— sometimes, he doesn't even realize he's doing it. Sometimes, he doesn't even realize he's putting you before everything, that he's dropping everything for you.

Hell, it's even to the point where he can't even date properly and sleeps around from time to time to let out steam. It's because he just feels this attachment to you; an attachment past being your bestfriend— like some thread of hope he holds onto, thinking that some day, you'll see him in that light.

Someone who could genuinely, deeply and strongly love you, care for you, support you, with no boundaries.

"I know."

"Why don't you just tell her? You know, be honest." Wooyoung shrugs.

"I don't wanna lose her, and I'm afraid I will if I do. I'm afraid I'll fuck everything up between us and change the dynamic just because I wanted to be selfish."

"I don't think you'd lose her. I'm sure she wouldn't let that change anything between the two of you, either. And why don't you think she'd go for it?"

"I just don't think she would."

"Maybe she's thinking the same way as you." Wooyoung sees the university in sight and starts to loosen himself up, getting ready to head out of the door as soon as Seonghwa pulls into a spot. "I think you should go for it, Hwa. You can't live like this forever. You love her, she should know. And if things don't work out, I doubt she'll let that change things between you two. You two understand each other well, and you both make sense together."

"Mm, yeah. Thanks." Seonghwa gives him a pursed smile before Wooyoung slips off his seatbelt and smiles.

"Guess that means I can tag along again tomorrow?" Seonghwa rolls his eyes and steps out of the car before slamming his door.

"I'll think about it, lazy ass."

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @cheolliehugs @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab

#seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa series #park seonghwa series #park seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa #ateez #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #park seongwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez series #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa angst #hwaslayer: love you in slow motion

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bloompompom · 7 months

Text

Drive-In Distraction

Tonight's horror movie double-feature won't be the only thing that has you wanting to scream

✩ content: ~5.6k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern au, established relationship, porn without plot, fluff, teasing, oral sex (m!receiving), PIV sex, public sex, quiet sex, exhibitionism, slight overstimulation, come fucking, dirty talk, praise, spit, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

“Eren!”

The scold left you in a harsh whisper, only after you realized where his hand was venturing. Once innocently on your thigh, giving you sweet intermittent squeezes, now traveling higher and higher.

This was not the place to start fooling around with each other.

Earlier that day, Eren tossed you the idea of going to the drive-in theater, said it was the perfect activity for the season since they were showing a late-night horror movie double-feature.

‘Those still exist?’ you asked him. He gave you some sarcastic answer—‘No, I just made it up for fun’—before the two of you were throwing all the pillows and blankets you could find into the trunk of his hatchback.

Eren had pushed the backseats down until they were flat, and you made a makeshift bed, laying out an old duvet first then layering on the rest. It ended up being comfy, at least enough to cuddle up and watch back-to-back movies together.

But you hadn’t even gotten halfway through the first one before Eren started getting antsy, which in hindsight, you probably should have seen coming.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” your boyfriend lilted, that familiar chime of amusement ringing through his voice. It was the tell-tale sign he was trying to fluster you, and he knew he was succeeding.

But he couldn’t help himself; you were too easy to play with.

Despite your warning glare, Eren’s fingers settled in the crease of your thigh. He traced over it, feeling the band of your underwear beneath your leggings.

“C’mon, I’m bored.”

“We’ve been here, like, thirty minutes. How could you possibly be bored already?”

He hummed, straightening out in his seat to snake an arm between your back and the pillows. He hooked his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re distracting me.”

This was his plan from the start, wasn’t it? You wanted to say it was unbelievable, but it was anything but. Either way, you didn’t stop the giggle that left you; a little one, and only because you thought his flagrant attempts at flattery were endearing.

“How?” you challenged, knowing damn well you haven’t done anything besides watch the movie and debate if you were up for the hike to the concession stand on the opposite side of the lot.

“Because you’re so cute—” Eren cajoled.

His breath warmed the side of your neck as he inched even closer. The tip of his nose fit into the dip beneath your ear as he nuzzled into you.

“—And pretty.”

His lips met your skin and a spark skipped down your spine. You shivered, unable to hold it back. Eren gave a wry chuckle as he smoothed over your thigh reassuringly. It was teasing but gentle, irritatingly soft. After another kiss, you finally allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

His lips—then his tongue—were hot as he left lazy kisses, as many as if he were dotting the night sky, taking as much time as he pleased despite being in the open trunk of his car. Not a single inch of you, from the lobe of your ear to your collarbone, went neglected.

You dug a palm into the billows of blankets to keep upright. You had tunnel vision to Eren and only Eren. The movie playing through the radio was white noise, buzzing beneath the drumming of your heart. Your tiny breaths sharpened as you tried to wrangle in the oxygen to bring your head back to Earth.

“Eren.” When you said his name this time, it wasn’t a hiss. It was flimsy on your exhale, nearly dying on your tongue. He shushed you with soft coos murmured into the crook of your neck.

As your head tipped to one side, Eren caught your jaw, holding you there as he licked and sucked and nipped. He was only kissing you, not even on your mouth, and already you felt helpless to him. He had wrapped you up in that sensual minute, or ten, or maybe an entire hour—you didn’t know. You were lost in the tangle of pillows and blankets, twisting the fabric between your fist as if it would ground you. The inky night had swaddled you, with only the old projector ahead illuminating your ever-trembling body.

Eren’s eager hand continued surveying you, exploring down the hollow of your collarbone to your chest, as if he hadn’t touched these parts of you countless times before. His hand followed the curve of your breast tentatively, waiting to see what reaction it’d elicit from you.

When he expected a swatted hand, he was only gifted a wordless sound, almost like a purr. His smirk seared into the thin skin of your neck as he teased your breast. He reveled in how your body reacted to him, sensitive to his touch even through your top; your nipple perking between his fingers and the patter of your heart against his palm. He craved nothing more than to strip you of it, free you of it so he could feel your softness with nothing in between. This would have to do for now.

He decided to push his luck anyway, his hand straying further, lower. Your sternum, your stomach…

Your shoulder scrunched to your ear in a flinch. “I don’t know, Eren. Maybe we should wait until we’re home.”

“I don’t wanna wait that long,” he breathed against you. He couldn’t wait that long, not now. Not with the way his cock was already straining against his sweatpants, aching to feel you, any way you’d let him.

Every word was laced with desire, burning hot against your ear. They pooled in the low part of your stomach and dripped down to your toes. With every raspy syllable, Eren’s voice faded as his need overtook him. Despite your nervous squirming—and your better judgment—your legs began to spread, making room for his hand to cup between your legs.

He only touched you through your leggings at first, but he could still feel your heat, the shake in your thighs when he pressed down, right on your clit. Already, you had sucked in your lip, muffling whatever sound wanted to escape. It was so cute, how easily you folded for him.

Once he stuck his hand beneath, bypassing your underwear entirely, you shuddered when his fingers met your bare skin. Not because they were cold; you expected cold. They were warm, his skin already ablaze with arousal as he brushed the tips of his fingers over you, through you, but never daring to dip further. It would be easy, if he wanted to, what with how wet you were after just a few strategic neck bites. But he wanted to tease you. Just a little.

Eren pinched your chin, angling you for another kiss. There was a certain stiffness about you, only in your lips; the rest of you couldn’t stay still. Between kisses and your little gasps, you whispered, “We’re going to get caught.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

On sheer coincidence (or the universe’s knack for impeccable timing), a blood-curdling shriek blared through the radio and tore straight through the tension in the car. You lurched forward, sitting up as tall as if a teacher had smacked your desk while nodding off—or if someone had caught you with your boyfriend’s hand down your pants.

“Someone’s jumpy,” Eren poked. You dropped your hand from your chest, ready to shove him away, when he held your face again. He brought you back to him in an attempt to quell your rampant anxiety. “Seriously, no one’s gonna come this way. Don’t worry.”

Your eyes flitted from his face, to the screen, then back to him. Through squished cheeks, you asked, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

He punctuated it with a kiss on the tip of your nose, then one on your lips. He tilted into you with his hand curving around the back of your head. Immediately, you were his, opening your mouth and tempting his tongue to find yours.

His fingers effortlessly return to your clit. He began to rub circles, slow at first, feeling how soft you were, how your swollen, needy pussy gave beneath. You started to pant harder against him, your moving lips growing erratic. He tightened his circles, quickening them and playing your body as though it were an instrument he’d mastered, knowing which touches had you quivering and which had you whining—most importantly, which would make you come the quickest.

Your hips wiggled against his hand, angling and trying to get more out of him. You wanted him inside you, and you wanted it badly.

As you expected, you felt his breathy laugh against your mouth. “See? Not so scary now, is it?”

Even if you were to humor the question, you wouldn’t have had the chance to before he parted you and pushed a finger inside. A small sound left you, again when he began to drag his finger in and out of you, curling it just the right way. You had to stay quiet. Your throat tightened, desperate to keep your tiny whines from turning into bleats bursting from your chest. You were only capable of a whisper of, “More,” mumbly and wet against his mouth.

Eren maintained his composure, smartly asking, “Feels good, huh?”

He already knew the answer; he didn’t need to ask. He only did it for his own benefit, pining to hear it come from you. To take in the sounds of your croons and cries as you plead for him again and tuck them away for later.

He didn’t wait for your answer; he didn’t have the restraint for it. Eren inserted a second finger, always willing to please his girlfriend, giving her whatever she wanted, even when she was an incoherent mess—especially when she was an incoherent mess.

Once he did, he could practically taste the lust on your tongue, delving deeper and spilling into his mouth. The kiss, if one could call it that, turned shameless clumsy, his fingers pumping until he reached the pace that had you fluttering around his knuckles.

You were lost in a swirl of heady breaths, the air of the trunk growing thick and coiling around you with your lower half sweltering under the blankets. Still, you managed to lift them and reach a hand beneath, caressing over the top of Eren’s thigh. The muscle tensed as you went, grazing up his leg just as he had with you.

You palmed over the front of his sweats, again when you realized how hard he had been for you. His abdomen flexed and relaxed. There was a delicious relief in your touch, even if plenty of layers still separated you. Too many for Eren’s liking.

Riled up beyond belief, it only took a few chaste strokes before Eren was lifting his hips to meet you, instinctively working his cock against your hand in search of more pressure—more anything.

Of course, the heavy petting was fun, but think of how much more fun you could have. Not fooling and fumbling like teenagers who snuck into an R-rated movie, but upping the ante, seeing truly how far you could go without getting caught.

A little risk never scared him off before.

Eren pulled away to catch his breath, smiling at you all big with this wicked look on his face; the look of a winner. He had taken you by both wrists and dragged you along with him, following wherever he led you. In his hands, you were like putty or dough or clay—you were no more than something waiting to be warmed and molded in whichever way he desired, crafted to fit him and only him.

But you were more than willing. And luckily for you, Eren was just as malleable in your delicate hands. Neither of you could turn back now, even if you wanted to.

The flashing screen cast a cool light on the side of your face, catching the sheen of your bottom lip. What was left of your kiss was wiped away by Eren as he thumbed over it.

“You wanna do this?” he asked, still with that same sideways grin.

You nodded excitedly, emphasized it by tugging down his waistband. His hands only left you to help, one shuffling his sweatpants lower while the other expertly held the blanket over your laps.

The blanket was fleecy and thick, opaque enough to block out any lights. You could barely see a thing, but you do make out the way his cock slapped against his lower abs once you had his boxers down. You reached for him, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes flickered to the screen, then downward once more. Not a soul in sight—or at least, you weren’t in their sights.

You took him in your hand and even that, the feeling of your fingertips grazing him, made his breathing stutter. When you wrapped your fingers around him, slightly tightening your grip, you only had to pump a few slow times before you thought you could feel his heartbeat in his cock.

Eren lifted the blanket high enough to steal a peek at your hand on him. He watched the fluid movement of your wrist, up and down, quickening after you thumbed over his tip, slick with precome.

He couldn’t think of a time he’d been this turned on by a hand job, probably not since his first one. Each time his eyelids lidded, he’d have to force them back open to scan the surroundings, just in case. You were a bit preoccupied to care, his hand back where it belonged as he fucked you with his fingers. It made it hard for you to focus on much else, your jaw already falling ever so slack.

Even Eren had to admit the inherent risk had his heart thumping faster. But unlike you, it didn’t frighten him. It exhilarated him. He found himself already fighting back the urge to come from the thrill alone. All the while, you had this nervous tremble in your hand, as if you were this innocent little thing; he knew better than to believe that. Still, he found you extremely endearing, only making it harder for him to not pin you down and ruin you right there. Imagine how cute you would look if you were to really get caught.

Each time he stuffed his fingers inside you fully, your steady hand would stagger. Your effort was put towards jerking him off, but your concentration faltered so effortlessly; you were never one for multitasking. Especially when Eren’s huffs through his nose turned ragged each time you paid extra attention to the tip of his cock, palming and squeezing gently.

“God, I wanna taste you so badly right now,” Eren exhaled. His cock throbbed at the thought.

You tried to respond, but his fingers were unrelenting, thick and dragging against your walls in a way you could only describe as lewd. The pace, the sound—the fact that the crotch of your leggings was soaked through.

“Ah-hah.” You swallowed hard. “A-absolutely not. People will see.”

You didn’t know how it would even work in such a tight space—with plenty of head bumps and leg cramps, you supposed.

“Hm,” Eren muttered, seemingly unhappy with your answer. His fingers slipped from you, collected some of your wetness, then began flicking over your clit. It yanked another sound from you, absolutely pathetic and ripped from the very depths of your throat.

His fingers were drenched in your arousal, smooth and slick, trained on your undoing. He stopped short of it, slithering his hand from your leggings and bringing them to your mouth.

“Guess this will have to do,” he told you just before sucking them, savoring your sweetness on his tongue, “until we get home.”

Eren’s brazen ways never ceased to ruffle you. Your cheeks flared hot, even more once he wrapped his wetted fingers around his length, jerking himself off. Making a show of it, too. The slippery sound of him coating his cock with you, darkened eyes locked onto yours. Little groans fell from him, lips slightly parted like he was high off you.

Ripples of electricity pulsed through you, encouraged you, while your thighs could only clench at the sight. He didn’t even need to touch you for you to fall apart. But just because he couldn’t touch you the way he wanted—couldn’t taste you—didn’t mean you couldn’t.

You perched to your knees and dove under the blanket. Before he could even blink, you had his cock upright in your hand, lapping up the length of it.

“Shit,” he hissed, way louder than he should have.

You poked your head out, still playing with him in your hand. “This is why I didn’t want to do this.”

“I—sorry.” Eren’s voice was off-kilter, his hips twitching unwittingly with your lips mere centimeters from the tip of his cock. “I’ll shut up. Just—keep going. Please.”

You saw the needy look in his eye, and a smile crossed your face. You decided to steal from his bag of tricks, lightly pestering, “Gonna be quiet for me?”

You licked your lips before darting your tongue along his head. He groaned, first in annoyance, but it tapered into a fervorous sound, sultry to your ears. You gazed up at him with big eyes, lashes batting, and waited for him to say anything.

The sight of your pretty face, his cock against your pretty, pink tongue, had him muttering, “Fuck me.”

“Maybe later.” You winked and finally started to take him into your mouth. You heard the thud his head gave as it hit the back of the car seat.

With every bob of your head, you swallowed more of him down your throat. It made your mouth water, had saliva dripping down the length of him and over your fist as you worked the base of his cock.

You had your eyes shut and your attention fixed on Eren and nothing but Eren. Everything else might as well have faded to black. Your ears thrummed with the husky sound of his voice, whispering curses each time you wrapped your lips around him and hollowed your cheeks. You only felt his hand on you, fingertips tickling from between your shoulder blades to your tailbone. He palmed over your ass, groping the fat of it, and had you moaning around his cock. He must have felt it, the vibrating hum of your throat, because the blunt of his nails dug into your skin as if your leggings weren’t even there.

You only popped up when you heard laughter. It was distant, but still enough to make your stomach drop.

“No one can see us right?” you asked through scarce breaths. You turned to look out, crooked your head from side to side, searching for any lurking eyes, but you only saw the cars parked in front of you, entirely unchanged.

Eren leered down at you. Your eyes were wet; the corners of them caught what little light there was. Each time you blinked, a tear threatened to break your waterline as though it were a dam. There was spit on your chin, your lips were cock and kiss-swollen and slick, and dear God did he want to take a picture.

He gulped, only mumbling a dazy, “You’re good.”

You decided to trust him. Before he knew it, you had him back in your mouth, right where you had left off. You focused on breathing through your nose to hold back a gag as you took as much of his length as you could. You swallowed and sucked, and each time he nudged the back of your throat, it’d tighten around him and make his stomach clench. And when your nose finally brushed against his pelvis, you felt him shiver, his hand balling the fabric of your shirt in his hand.

This was when Eren would normally talk you through it. Sugar-coated praises sprinkled between all the dirty things he wanted you to do. Gag on it, choke on it, grunting while he fucked your mouth and babbling about you how beautiful you look while taking him, only him. Obscenities you shouldn’t love but did, each one always warming your chest with that fuzzy-duckling feeling, even though you were in the wolf’s clutches. You missed hearing him, but if you gagged now, it would be too loud, and Eren had already promised you he’d shut up.

Honestly, you were impressed he could bite his tongue even this long. This was the most you’d ever seen him hold back; he was more so the give-it-his-all type, lacking any sort of restraint. You wouldn't think he’d ever heard of the word ‘self-control’ before—which was exactly why you never did anything like this in the past. Never fucking when his previous roommate was home or when you’d visit his parents, even if he begged for it. You knew you’d never be able to look them in the eyes afterward.

You were sure he was only quiet now, besides small groans and tight breaths, because the consequence was that his cock would lose the wet heat of your mouth. No, he couldn’t let himself go right now, not entirely, and it probably felt like a cruel trick he played on himself.

But Eren didn’t need to say a single thing for you to know exactly what he was thinking. You could feel it in the way you held his eyes, like you were too captivating to look away. And whenever your hair fell and blocked his view—a view wouldn’t dare go a second without—he’d dotingly pet it away from your face.

And you certainly didn’t need to question it when he breathed, “God, I fucking love you,” with his head thrown back in ecstasy, your name like a shiver surging through him.

Then, the Eren you knew, and loved, returned.

“Fuck, I need you.”

He said it as though he was submitting, like his carnal impulses had finally bested him—as if they already hadn’t from the moment he got handsy with you, kissing your neck.

He pulled you off his cock, and you choked for air in surprise. His hands immediately went for your leggings, removing them, along with your underwear, in one quick tug.

You squealed—for a lot of reasons, actually. The crisp night air against your bare skin. The lack of consideration he had for your whereabouts. You snatched the blanket to shield yourself, your eyes darting every which way to see if anyone noticed.

Eren’s hands were heavy against the grooves of your skin, weighed down with hunger as he repositioned you to his liking. He had you straddling his lap in reverse, like he thought you wanted to watch the movie while he fucked you.

“That way you can keep watch,” You could hear the cheeky grin in his voice, “so you don’t have to be so nervous.”

You half-laughed because it wasn’t much better at all. It only made you feel dirtier for what you were about to do. That wasn’t about to stop you, though. You could feel his cock, hot and glazed in your spit, against your thigh, and you could only think about how much you wanted it inside you.

“What if the car starts to shake?” you asked.

His hands smoothed down your back until he pinched your ass. When you startled, he only chuckled, “Damn, how hard were you planning on going?”

Eren shoved a hand between your legs. He glided his fingers along your slit, relishing the little wiggle you gave in response. By the time the pads of his fingers met your clit, they were slick, rubbing and slipping against you.

“Eren, please. We don’t have time for this,” you said, but it was hardly a warning. Your voice warbled, the end of it getting pitchy with pleasure. You could pretend all you wanted, but you loved it, every drawn-out second of it.

He could imagine the look of anticipation on your face. You were probably gnawing on your bottom lip, your nose scrunching cutely every time he dared to dip inside you, but only because you were hoping it’d be his cock instead of his fingers.

You had the blanket clutched to you, your grip tightening as he continued to toy with you. Shame heatedly prickled down your neck—shame for how utterly shameless you felt about the situation.

Eren grabbed your ass with both hands, spreading you as he debated thrusting inside you then. He wanted nothing more than to give your cheek a resounding slap with an open palm. He opted for his cock instead, slapping the head of it against you a few times.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, almost as if he didn’t know if he was talking to you or himself.

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, so hard that you thought it wanted to break free. You were running on nothing but adrenaline, an intoxicating concoction of danger and being unbelievably turned on by said danger.

Eren always enjoyed the reaction he’d pull from you whenever he’d first slide his cock into you; it hadn’t changed since the first time you had sex. A sharp inhale through your nose, your mouth dropping into a tiny ‘O.’ Your eyes would squeeze close only to flutter back open, but he couldn’t see that part now. And if you could manage it, you’d grab onto him wherever you could. Tonight, you dug your nails into his left thigh. He hardly felt it, more transfixed on the way you tightened around the head of his cock.

He waited for your clench to relax before sinking you down onto him, lower. Choppy moans left the both of you right when your ass was smushed against his pelvis, when he was buried inside you fully. And again, only from Eren, when you started to move before he could.

You took him with long strokes, every inch of him dragging in and out of you with his tip nearly kissing your entrance before you’d repeat it, again and again. Your movements were far from smooth, your legs straining, and your breath still caught up in your throat. But once you realized nothing had changed—the movie was still playing, and not so much as a headlight flicked on—you began to bounce on your knees.

It wasn’t long before the sound of sex began to reverberate off the walls and fill the cramped trunk. The salacious smacking of skin on skin, all those little pants spilling from you, ones you couldn’t stifle no matter how tightly you sealed your lips. So long as everyone still had their radios on, there was no way they could hear you. That was what you told yourself, repeating it with every roll of your hips. Even if they could, you couldn’t find it within you to stop now.

Eren splayed a hand against your lower back, slipping it until it flattened against your stomach. He held you upright as you continued taking his cock; it looked less conspicuous that way, if that were even possible.

The new angle stole a gasp from you, your release already building, a rapturous bloom you could feel in every part of your body. Your toes threatening to curl, thighs shaking like you had just run a marathon. Your shirt clung to you, your sweat like a film across your skin. Inside, you were on the verge of bursting into flames, but on the outside, goosebumps scattered your skin, your sweat like ice in the autumn air. It was almost too much. Too much, but so good. The only thing you could do was keep going with your hand sealed over your mouth.

Of course it went to Eren’s head. He loved it, seeing you physically have to restrain yourself from crying out. But there would be time for that later, when you’d really need it while coming on his cock. Right now, he still wanted to hear you, see just how far he could bend you before you broke.

He kept his voice low while he demanded, “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

Your hand remained firmly over your mouth.

Eren wrapped his hand around your elbow and forced your arm to your side. You gave a short ‘ah,’ finally able to get a full breath.

He asked again, “It’s all mine, right?”

“Yours,” you whispered, quiet, but Eren could still make out the whine in it. “Yours. It’s all yours.”

If you could see it, you would have smacked that lopsided smirk right off his face. Thankfully for him, you couldn’t. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to look at you.

“I—shit,” he hissed, interrupted by another rock of your hips. He couldn’t bring himself to stop you, practically hypnotized by every jiggle of your ass, but after a couple of seconds passed, he continued, “Need to see you. C’mere.”

Eren lifted you off him, turning you as you swung your leg around to straddle him. You draped the blanket over your back, pinning one of its corners to your chest.

He guided you back down on his cock with hands on your hipbones, thumbing small circles against you.

When your eyes met, a smile warmed his face. “There’s my girl.”

He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, with you nuzzling into him like a kitten.

Eren led this time, holding you there for him to fuck into. He was slow at first, taking you with languid thrusts, letting himself readjust to you before he started pounding into you with hips rising off the floor. From there, well, it quickly spiraled into frenzied fucking, a mad dash in which you were both racing towards your releases.

He shoved your shirt over your tits, placed the hem of it in your mouth not only to keep it out of his way but also to stop you from moaning any more than you already were. His large hands massaged over your breasts, cupping and bringing them to his mouth. He buried his face in your chest, kissing and licking over your sensitive skin, lipping over your nipples and flicking them with his tongue. And when his teeth gently grazed over them, you bit down on your shirt to suppress your whines.

Eren released your tits only to see you hopelessly grind against him. He began to thumb over your clit, trying to tip you over the edge. You were close, your head already thrown back with your pussy throbbing around him.

He admired you then. Your bouncing tits, the slight sheen across your stomach. He watched his cock disappear inside of you, in and out, in and out.

“What did I say before? So damn pretty.”

“Close,” you choked. “I’m close.”

Your head flung forward, chin tucked to your chest as your entire body tightened. Eren’s hand found the nape of your neck, bringing you close enough that your foreheads pressed together.

You were staring straight into each other’s eyes as his hand came between you to clamp down on your mouth. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded frantically, and that was all it took for you to reach your peak. It bubbled in your core until euphoria engulfed you in its flames. It set your nerves on fire, every fiber of every one, sparking in your chest and scorching through your lower back.

Once your balmy breaths against his palm had steadied, your irises glossing over like you were lost in a rose-tinted haze, Eren knew he wouldn’t last much longer. With that in mind, he didn’t feel so bad for losing control of himself. He only needed a minute.

Eren pushed you onto your back, your head landing toward the end of the trunk. He yanked the blanket with him, over him, as he mounted you, plunging into you to the hilt in one snap of his hips. He watched your eyes widen in shock, but the moment he was fucking you again, you went dumb to everything else.

The car had to be rocking now. There was no way it wasn’t.

You didn’t have the time to worry about it before Eren’s hips became reckless—correction: more reckless than they were already.

“I’m gonna come—fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the curse at the end.

His head dropped into the nook of your shoulder as he thrust into you fully one last time, rutting against you as if your bodies weren’t already flush.

When you were sure he’d spent himself, the tilts of his pelvis growing shallower until they settled, you started to sit up on your elbows.

His voice was gravelly as he grunted, “I’m not done,” right against your ear as he kept you there, fucking his come into you.

Borderline overstimulated, Eren couldn’t stop himself. He wanted you to take everything he gave you, and it still wasn’t enough. When he should be softening inside you, he was still hard, thinking about all the ways he’d have you once you were back at home.

He collapsed on top of you, collected himself, then pushed himself up. You followed, tucking the blanket under your armpits even though your entire body was in a sticky swelter. You wiped your forehead as you watched Eren slip his sweatpants back on before tossing his blanket aside.

He looked from the giant screen and back to you. He no longer recognized the movie, so he assumed, “Look, we even have some of the second movie left.”

You gave him those ‘you can’t be serious’ eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

Of course he was. But he held his silence as long as he could before his smile cracked through. Then he reached to close the trunk.

“That desperate for round two?” he taunted.

Eren started to climb between seats, like he wasn’t too big for it, to reach the front. It was better than facing everyone in the immediate vicinity after what he’d done.

He plopped into the driver’s seat and looked back at you. “If you insist.”

thanks for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #divider by @/cafekitsune

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freedomfireflies · 8 months

Text

Always*

Summary: The fifth and final part to 404*

The one with car crashes and closet sex.

Word Count: 4.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Arrogant Twat: Playing hooky, that’s not like you

Arrogant Twat: You’re not that cool

Arrogant Twat: I can see you reading my messages you know

Arrogant Twat: So if you’re ignoring me, it’s not working

Arrogant Twat: …okay seriously this is really fucking childish, are you really not gonna come to work just because I won’t fuck you?

Arrogant Twat: It’s been three days, Princess, you can’t hide from me forever

You: You are so fucking annoying, I am not hiding from you, I’m SICK

You: This may come as a surprise, but my world does not revolve around you or your cock

You: So if you don’t mind, I need to go throw up

Tossing your phone down onto the bed, you rush into the bathroom to grasp onto the sink and brace yourself over the porcelain. Silently willing your body to comply, to keep the fluids down. You don’t want to be sick, but thinking about Harry always tends to make you.

You smirk to yourself at the joke before running your hands under the cold stream of water to gently rinse off your face. Needing to feel something cool against your feverish skin before you slink back to bed.

Truth be told, you don’t mind the break from work. And from Harry, specifically. Sure, you understand why he ended things. And you aren’t exactly upset about it, seeing as he wasn’t really that great of company to keep.

But he’s angry. You know he’s angry, and that’s why he claimed he wanted to stop. And you feel guilty over having pushed him there, you do. After all, you knew better. You two don’t talk about anything personal. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry. You don’t show any sort of emotion or understanding.

You broke the one rule. And truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how to face him now.

Overcome with fatigue, you slump back down onto your bed, and disappear beneath the covers. Pulling them up to your chin as a shiver rolls down your sweaty skin, all the way to your fuzzy sock-covered toes.

You try to watch some television to get your mind off the pain and congestion but find yourself growing sleepier with each quippy remark from Chandler Bing.

And before you know it, you’re out like a light.

The sharp chime of your cellphone is what wakes you. Pulling you from a rather odd dream as you groggily roll over and attempt to find the noise.

It’s a text message, followed shortly after by another. And once you manage to sit up and rub the sandman from your eyes, you see who it’s from.

Arrogant Twat: Open your door

Arrogant Twat: And hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here

Curious, and a tad startled, you glance toward your bedroom door, almost as if expecting to see him.

He can’t possibly be outside of your apartment building right now. He has no idea where you live, nor would he ever have any desire to be here. This has to be some sort of prank. He’ll get you to walk outside into the freezing night air only to realize he’s nowhere to be found.

That is the Harry you know.

Arrogant Twat: For the love of God, Tinkerbell, open the fucking door before I freeze my ass off

With a huff (and a cough), you fling your covers back and pad over to your window, glancing down into the street.

And there he is, a dark shadowy figure lurking on the steps to your building, angrily glaring at his cellphone.

You feel your heart start to pound, overcome with confusion and intrigue. You don’t understand why he might be here or what he could possibly want so late at night. You’re tempted to send him away, or pretend he has the wrong address.

But you can’t deny that you’re curious as to what he might want or what he’ll say. Especially after the way things ended. Perhaps he’s merely here to catch you up on what you’ve missed with the project. Or maybe he just wants to complain in person.

Either way, you slip on some pajama shorts and a large, oversized sweatshirt for comfort, and head for the door.

With a deep breath, you buzz him in, and wait anxiously as the sound of steps echoes through the stairwell and between the halls.

No matter what happens, you’ll stand your ground. You don’t have the energy to fight him today. If he’s coming into your home, he’ll play by your rules.

There’s a knock on the door. Sharp and precise as you exhale shakily and step closer. Fingers curling around the doorknob before you swing it back and come face to face with the troublemaker himself.

He stands in the doorframe, a dark hoodie pulled over his head, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

In his right hand, he holds a brown bag, allowing it to dangle casually at his side while his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Shit, you look terrible,” he snorts, pressing his shoulder against the entryway. “Worse than usual, I mean.”

Your expression falls, a glare beginning to form. “Well, this was fun. Buh-bye now,” you huff, already beginning to shut the door in his face.

However, he’s quick to outstretch his hand and smack his palm against the wood, keeping it open. “Okay, all right. Geez, it was just a joke. D’ya lose your sense of humor or something?”

“No, that just wasn’t funny,” you retort, but allow the door to stay ajar. “What do you want?”

He lifts the bag into the air and shakes it once. “Brought you soup.”

You blink. “You…what? Why?”

He shrugs once. “Cause you’re sick,” he says, now brushing past you to make his way into your living room. “And I’m nice.”

“Uh…no,” you nearly scoff, turning around to watch him flop down onto your sofa. “You are anything but nice to me, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m being nice today.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Is it poisoned or something?”

You catch his wry smile as he begins to unpack the items and set them onto your coffee table. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you shut the door, and follow after him. Cautious of his intentions but drawn to the smell of the delicious food.

He hands you a bowl and some cutlery – which you take rather tentatively – before he straightens up and stares at you. “Are you gonna sit down?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyeing the only spot available beside him on the couch. “Are you still gonna be an asshole?”

“Probably.”

You huff but catch yourself smirking. “Fine, but scoot over.”

With an amused exhale of his own, he does as instructed, moving toward the edge of the sofa to make room before sitting down as well.

Your small apartment fills with a rather uncomfortable quiet as the two of you begin to dig into your food. The silence accompanied by faint slurps and sips that almost make you smile.

And it feels weird to be here with him like this. Relaxing on the couch, eating some soup like you don’t despise each other.

Perhaps you’d even enjoy his company under any other circumstance.

Clearing your throat, you angle your body toward his, studying his profile as his eyebrow raises. “Why are you here? Really?”

He shifts in your direction as well, grinning deviously from behind his takeout container. “Told you, I’m being nice—”

“Wrong. You’re never nice. Besides, you just accused me of hiding from you, so I don’t exactly think we’re on the best of terms.”

This makes his amusement fade, a subtle frown beginning to form as he shrugs one shoulder up in a nonchalant manner. “I don’t know. I guess it’s an apology.”

“For what?”

“For saying that,” he admits, almost quietly. Avoiding your eye as he stares at his noodles. “And maybe I kind of thought you were lying and wanted to see for myself.”

“Would you like me to vomit for you? Will that prove I’m actually unwell?”

He smiles again. “Nah, I’m good—”

“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll do it right now, all over your lap—”

“All right,” he groans, leaning back with a crinkled nose. “Ew. No. I believe you, Princess. Fuck’s sake.”

Satisfied, you nod once. “Great. Now, onto my next question. How the hell did you get my address?”

“How do you think?” His expression is mischievous. “Got it from your file.”

“What? Why do you have access to my file?”

“Cause Prescott’s security system is way too easy to hack,” he says simply. “And I knew you’d never tell me.”

“Right. Because we don’t do that.”

“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we’re not fucking anymore, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how exactly does that work?”

“Because,” he begins, setting his things down on the coffee table, “if we’re not fucking, that means there’s no chance of you getting all clingy and attached.”

Your eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Which means we can hang out without you falling for me,” he finishes, rather smugly. “So it’s fine.”

“Just because we aren’t fucking doesn’t mean we’re friends,” you argue. “I still hate you.”

“I know. I hate you, too.”

Yet for some reason, you both smile.

“Now what’s the real reason?” you urge, nodding your chin at him. “Honestly. Why are you really here?”

He takes a beat to mull this over, standing from the sofa to collect his trash and take it to your kitchen. “Told you,” he finally says before tossing away his things. “You’re sick, and I felt bad.”

“Is that all?”

Another long pause settles between you as he readjusts the hood over his curls and saunters over to your window seat. “I didn’t want you to be hiding from me,” he admits as he slumps down, eyes flicking out into the dark night. “So I wanted to make sure we were good.”

You study him silently, taking in the way his hands disappear into the large pocket on his abdomen. “Yeah, we’re good,” you quietly reply.

He nods once but keeps his attention on the city. “Good. Cause you don’t have to hide, you know. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know. I just said that.”

His body lifts and falls with a small chuckle before he props his legs up onto the cushions and tosses his arms over his knees. “Well, you seemed pissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that threw a hissy fit and fled from the car,” you retort. “In fact, I’m the one that politely agreed and let you go.”

“Right, but you were pissy about it. I could tell.”

“You are so full of shit.”

He laughs again. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am. But not for that.”

He looks over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re annoying, and you’re rude, and you’re so fucking pretentious,” you list, fighting a grin. “But you have a right to keep things to yourself, and I shouldn’t have asked. So…I’m sorry.”

He nods once, as if acknowledging the apology before returning his gaze to the window. “S’fine.”

Another lull drifts into the conversation, minutes passing by before you notice his expression shift.

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows lift.

“What?”

He shifts a bit before clearing his throat. “It’s not you, I just…I don’t talk about it. Or…her.”

Her.

The first piece to the rather large puzzle sitting before you, and you feel your breath catch as you await the rest.

You notice the way he hesitates. The reflection of the night sky in his glasses. The nervous tapping of his fingers.

“Cause if I don’t talk about it, then I don’t have to think about it,” he whispers. “And if I don’t think about, then I don’t feel like putting my fucking fist through a wall, you know?”

“I know,” you answer quietly. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

He snorts to himself, leaning forward. “She never should have been in that fucking car. I was supposed to drive her. She was supposed to be with me.”

And even without much context, you feel your stomach wrench, already anticipating what might have happened.

“But she was late,” he says. And it’s angry, the way he speaks. Resentful. “She was out with her friends, and she was late to meet me, and I had shit to do. So I told her. I told her I couldn’t take her to the fucking party she wanted to go to. Because I didn’t want to be out all fucking night. I wanted to get my shit done and go to bed.”

You feel your throat run dry, tears beginning to form as you watch him recall the memory.

“I told her to get an Uber,” he continues, aggravated at first before it settles into something soft and somber. “I made her get into that car, and I watched her go. And I didn’t fucking care. Because I wanted to stay home, so I made her go by herself, and it fucking…and she didn’t…”

Your feet desperately want to carry you to him. To provide him some sort of comfort as he keeps his glare on the city horizon.

But you stay seated on the sofa, waiting for whatever he might offer next as he takes a deep breath.

“And she was just gone,” he murmurs, the air in the room shifting instantly. “She was fucking gone not even an hour later.”

The first drop slips down your cheek before you can wipe it away.

He exhales an amused laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “And I always think how funny it is that the last thing she ever said to me was, ‘Sleep well, H.’ And I haven’t slept well since.”

Now, he looks to you. Studying you almost sadly as you sit in wait.

“And then there was you,” he says. “You, and your shitty ass jokes, and your cocky little grin. You were everywhere. Every day. Sitting across from me, asking if I wanted to split a fucking everything bagel.”

You’re almost tempted to smile, but the truth of what he’s saying cuts too deep.

“And I hated it,” he admits, eyes flicking between yours. “I fucking hated it because you made me forget. Whenever I would talk to you, I would forget. I would just stare at you as you rambled on and on about the algorithm and the fucking API, and I wouldn’t think about her, and I’d forget how fucking angry I was.”

He smiles almost wryly, making your insides twist.

“And I didn’t want to forget,” he tells you. “I wanted to be angry. I wanted to punish myself for what I’d done. Because I didn’t deserve to forget. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Especially with you.”

You sit up, wrestling with the temptation to argue, but he’s already looking back out the window.

“So, yeah, maybe hating you was easier. And maybe fucking you was selfish, but it felt like the only choice. Because sex is just sex. And if I kept you at a distance – at least in some ways – I wouldn’t have to lose you, too.”

You stand and make your way for the window seat, settling in front of him as he turns to watch you. He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to avoid your pity, but you lean forward, nonetheless.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” you whisper, ignoring his amused expression. “You don’t deserve to be punished for something you couldn’t control.”

He smirks, but you can see the hint of sadness written between the lines of his face. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll keep that in mind.”

But you don’t let him tease his way out of this, instead settling your hands atop his knees to recapture his attention. “I’m serious, Harry. I know she wouldn’t blame you. How can you blame yourself?”

His smug grin falters for half a second. “Because there’s no one else to blame.”

A lump lodges in your throat as you scoot a bit closer. “Exactly. It was an accident. Unfair and uncontrollable. But it was never your fault. It was never your burden to carry.”

He leans his head back against the wall, but his attention never leaves you. Almost as though he’s afraid to look away.

“You can hate me,” you tell him. “I don’t mind that. Hating you is easier for me, too. But you can’t punish yourself for this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy. Not when you deserve it more than anybody I know.”

And maybe this is the first time you’ve ever really understood him. The first time you’ve felt truly connected to the man before you – even more so than when he was inside of you.

Because suddenly, things don’t feel so heavy. The world doesn’t seem so dark. And maybe, just maybe…he’s not so bad.

He drops his legs and sits up to reach for you. A large palm slipping around the back of your neck while you suck in a quiet breath and lean away.

“No,” you whisper, making his eyebrows raise. “I’m sick.”

He laughs, almost as though enchanted by your response. That charming dimple reemerging. “I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” you argue. “Seriously, it’s gross over here. There’s snot and I’ve been coughing all day—”

“Tink,” he murmurs, moving closer, attention dropping to your lips. “Stop talking.”

So…you do.

You let his mouth press to yours, settling into the feel of his touch. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel again. And despite everything else…you’re content.

He kisses your top lip. Your bottom lip. Steals a breath right from your lungs before nudging his nose with yours. “I still hate you.”

Your fingers tangle into the dark hoodie on his chest. “Yeah. I hate you, too.”

He smiles.

You aren’t sure what to expect come Monday morning. After all, you’re never sure what to expect with Harry.

You left things…friendly but undecided. As far as you know, nothing has changed. Harry is still the arrogant twat you’re forced to tolerate, and maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

But maybe…you’re okay with that.

If you never fuck him again, perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Becoming his frenemy is decidedly less exhausting than being anything else. And you suppose you don’t want much more than that. At least not right now. You’re happy to hate him for as long as he’ll let you.

But you aren’t sure how he’ll feel about his admission in the light of day. Maybe he’ll regret sharing something so personal. Maybe he’ll resent you for knowing it. Maybe he’ll request the two of you never speak again.

Lucas does his best to engage in small talk with you as you anxiously await Harry’s arrival. Politely ignoring the way you continue to check your watch and glance toward his desk.

In fact, you eventually become so engrossed in the conversation with the friendly newcomer that you miss that aforementioned ball of thunder striding through the lab.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He throws his things down and slouches into his chair to begin working. Not bothering with a greeting or even a look of acknowledgement.

Truth be told, you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And then the lunch hour begins. You assume he’ll disappear to the cafeteria as usual to grab a sandwich before returning to hide himself away in the lab.

Yet today is different. Today he stands up, turns around, and steps up to where you’re sitting.

Before you can even turn around, he dips down, and whispers, “Supply closet. Five minutes.”

With that, he’s gone. Slipping between the computers and desks before disappearing into the hallway as a smile stretches across your face.

After anxiously counting the seconds, you begin to follow. Double checking to make sure no one pays you any mind.

Once you’re satisfied, you make your way to the closet, and knock twice.

The door swings open, and you barely get the chance to offer a greeting before he’s tugging you inside, flinging the door shut, and pushing you up against it.

His lips find yours and it’s anxious. His kisses are desperate and rushed but so fucking addictive.

His hands are on your waist while yours disappear into his hair. His glasses are nudged out of place but neither of you care to stop and fix them. Instead groaning eagerly as he sucks on your tongue.

His hips press to yours, the subtle but familiar bulge hard against your thigh as you drop your head back and whimper. Anxiously pleading with him through a pointed look.

The flick of the button on your jeans is fast and practiced. The material pooling around your ankles while he works to tug his own pants down.

Two fingers hook onto the crotch of your panties to pull them aside before he slides the long digits through. Feeling just how frantic you really are.

He kisses you again as he slides them inside, curling and pumping just so. Smirking when he hears your arousal echo between the walls.

Nipping at your bottom lip, he whispers, “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

Sighing contently at the way his thumb massages your clit, you say, “Good. I hate you, too.”

He snorts. “Sure, Princess. Is that why you’re so fucking wet?”

To accentuate his point, he thrusts to the knuckle, stroking a particular spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“S’fucking pathetic,” he murmurs, glancing down, “how easy it is to play with you. Don’t have to do anything, do I? Just have to tease you a little and you’ll soak my fucking hand.”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, either as an act of defiance or out of need for stability. You aren’t sure.

“Cause you like it, don’t you?” he continues, moving his kisses to your neck. “Gets you off to be insulated. Degraded. Get all wet and squirmy at the thought of me putting you in your place, yeah?”

You don’t want to agree with him, but you both know he’s right. Even now, the cold cadence in which he speaks makes your legs shake.

“Yeah,” he answers for you in a soft but smug hum. “Know you do. Know you just wanna be put on your knees. Where you belong.”

With this thought, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, leaving you to wilt while he tugs his cock out.

There’s not much care as he swiftly and almost angrily tugs your leg up and throws it around his hip. He offers no words of reassurance or looks of encouragement while the tip drags through your folds before slowly disappearing into your cunt.

He ignores your strangled inhale, forehead finding yours as he grits, “Maybe I should do that next. Wrap your pretty ponytail around my fist while I fuck your throat.”

Your lashes flutter shut, nails scraping down his arms.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tink?” He pauses for only a moment to let you adjust. “Like it when I make tears run down your face, yeah?”

However, you can’t offer him any reply. Instead focusing on the familiar ache that accompanies the stretch of his large size.

He pushes in a bit more, wary of your reaction, but overcome with pleasure at the way you take him. “You do,” he decides, that smile returning. “Can feel your little pussy clenching around me. Is that what you want, Princess? Want me to be mean to you?”

Truth be told, you suppose it is. Anything else wouldn’t feel right.

His hand raises to your throat, fingers curling around the delicate and soft skin of your neck before he squeezes once. Keeping your head pressed against the door.

“Take me,” he murmurs harshly before burying himself all the way. Ignoring your gasps and whines. “Fucking take me, Tink. Just like that. S’a good fucking girl. Always behave so well for me, hm? Just for me. Nobody else.”

He sets a slow but hard pace. Looking down at where his cock disappears into your pussy with a dazed look in his eye.

“Do you think about him, Princess?” he asks you next, giving your throat another squeeze. “D’ya think about your precious fucking Lucas when I fuck you? Or do you think about him when you’re all alone? Trying to get yourself off?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply, but all that follows his remark is a desolate and strained whimper.

“Or do you think about me?” His lips ghost along the tender skin below your ear. Breathing softly before kissing the spot sweetly. A stark contrast to the vile way he speaks. “Think about how good I am to you…how I take care of you. Picture my hands, my voice, my fucking cock.”

And he’s right. In every fantasy, you see his face, first and foremost. Whisper his name into the air of your room as your fingers curl into your cunt.

It’s always him.

“Say it,” he murmurs now, offering another gentle kiss to your neck. “Tell me I’m the only one. Fucking tell me I’m the only one you cum for.”

Your fingernails move to scrape down his scalp, tangling in his soft curls as you subtly keep him in your arms.

You’re not too surprised by this request. Even if the two of you might never be anything more than friends, you imagine he needs to know. He needs to hear that even after everything, you still choose him.

You’re tempted to taunt him with a quippy retort. Egg him on, tell him he’s nothing compared to your vibrator.

Yet you find yourself whispering, “Only you, Har. Only ever you.”

For a moment, he stills. As if overcome by the words, the admission.

You pull him further into your embrace. “Always you.”

With a smirk, he leans back just far enough to meet your eye.

And you both smile.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

🥹 I can't believe we've made it to the end of the main series!!! No they're not technically together right now, BUT!!! There will be extras and who knows what they might get up to later ALSFJEFD

Thank you so much to everyone for reading and being so kind, I appreciate you all more than you know!!! You have my entire heart to heaven and back!!!! AND TINK, HARRY, AND I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN VERY SOON!! Specifically for the Halloween extra HAHAHA 😭♥️♥️

Next Part:

~ A-Mazing* (Halloween Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Jealous* (Pt. 4)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @storyschanging

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