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#i know he looks like a man but i can only see a teenage boy
hon3y-y · 10 hours
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NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤
cw: noncon filming!
pt 1: here<3
omfg he would be soooo pissed💀
picture this;
The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 
Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 
He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.
“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”
“Why are you still here?”
Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 
Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 
At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 
You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.
You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).
You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 
He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 
Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.
You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 
Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 
One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?
He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 
Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.
You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.
he’s sooo down bad://
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pinkniz · 6 months
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Lately I've been thinking about the human Freddy and how according to the current chronology of Dislyte this absolute BEAST is around 16 to 17 years old and every time I see human Freddy I remember this image:
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All those guys who are super focused on looking like a “chad” because they want pussy, have absolutely no idea what numbers emo twinks can get
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gyusrose · 29 days
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➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs
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⚠︎ smut (mdni)
✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?
summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.
(heeseung x fem.reader)
wc: 3.2k
——————————————————————————
your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.
you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.
you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.
you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.
the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.
as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.
your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.
‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.
you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.
“hey look im so-“
“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.
“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”
“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”
lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.
“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”
the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.
“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”
“i didn’t mean it like that-“
“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.
“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.
you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.
you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.
>>
you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.
people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?
over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.
“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.
you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.
“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.
if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.
as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.
heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.
“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.
“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.
a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.
he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.
he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.
suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.
the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.
your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.
grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.
many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.
you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.
“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.
heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.
“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?
“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.
“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.
“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.
heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”
“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.
“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”
you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”
“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.
“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.
you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?
“you know what, you’re right.”
“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.
heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.
he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.
“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.
“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.
heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….
no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!
“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“
“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“
“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.
he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.
he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.
“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.
“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.
“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.
heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”
nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.
he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.
>>
“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.
after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.
“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“
in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.
“what the fuck? heeseung-“
“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.
“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.
you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.
you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”
not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.
The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.
“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.
he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.
“holy shit go softer dumbass.”
“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.
“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.
“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”
heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?
he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.
shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?
“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.
heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.
“just put it in for fucks sake!”
“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.
“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.
“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.
you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.
“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.
“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.
“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”
before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.
“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.
“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”
“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.
“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.
your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.
tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.
you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”
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voguesriot · 2 months
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NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✹ luke castellan
part one
( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business
( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader
( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!
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♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain
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♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others
yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke
seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇
yourusername you’re such a cutie perce
seaweedbrain kys
sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry
connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig
sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.
lukecastellan 2/10 post
yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔
lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you
chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH
sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED
clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl
yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera
clarisselarue good.
GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest
clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes…
sarahdawson: HES WHAT
sarahdawson: oh he’s brave
yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED
yourusername: like a bug
seaweedbrain: or a rat
yourusername: that too
lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him
silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy
yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that
yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether
lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway
lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that
lukecastellan: i mean anyone would
seaweedbrain: great save bro
lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.
sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally
DIRECT MESSAGES
clarisselarue: ok when did you get game
lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about
clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one
lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse
clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with
read.
♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski
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♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others
[ tagged: sarahdawson ]
yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for
yourusername thanks max
this comment was deleted.
sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE
drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide
sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it……..
silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT
pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please
yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues
wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???
silenabeauregard the plot thickens
lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice
yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone
lukecastellan it was a rough time without it
groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves
chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college
maxwalsh nice earrings
this comment was deleted.
seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right…
clarisselarue yes.
DIRECT MESSAGES
maxwalsh: hey can we please talk
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out
yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole
maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it
maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything
yourusername: no
maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself
yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”
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maxwalsh: who tf is this???
yourusername: doesn’t matter
yourusername blocked maxwalsh.
lukecastellan posted to their story!
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SARAHDAWSON replied to your story
sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT
CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story
clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad
SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story
silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere…
CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story
chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN
MAXWALSH replied to your story
maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day
maxwalsh: wtf man
lukecastellan: womp womp
lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time
♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown
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♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others
[ tagged: yourusername ]
lukecastellan and it ain’t what??
yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS
clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that
silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇
yourusername thank you beautiful angel
seaweedbrain cute i guess…….
chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU
lukecastellan appreciate you bro
lukecastellan wait people said that about me???
wisegirll my favs 😭🫶
yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE
seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.
wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy
seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.
lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game
seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living
lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?
seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend… weird behaviour
sarahdawson too cute i fear
sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.
drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin…
leovaldez it’s really depressing
leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall
cbeckendorf he did
pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER 😭😭☠️☠️
( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia
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astonmartinii · 9 months
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tight knit | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
spa 2021, where a knitting hobby comes in handy
yourusername
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 401,874 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: hello spa !! one of my fave tracks and i'm so excited for this weekend AND for those who asked, here's my current project, it's a sweater :)))))))
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user1: oh to receive pics of charles like that
user2: i love how she's like here's my fine ass bf but more importantly here's my update on my knitting
danielricciardo: is the man on the second slide single?
yourusername: HE'S MINE BACK OFF (p.s. i love you dan, but don't joke about that shit i have approximately 200 teenagers in my dms threatening violence everyday over him)
charles_leclerc: cherie, i didn't know that :(
yourusername: i'd fight all of them and more for your hand
charles_leclerc: my knight in shining armour
danielricciardo: okay i was trying to make a joke, it was not an invitation to prove how in love you guys are we get it
user3: i too wish i had a bf rich enough that i could travel and knit full time
pierregasly: have a day off for once
yourusername: keep on like that and you'll never get that panda
pierregasly: but you promised !!!!!
yourusername: be nice then
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,208,760 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: calm before the storm at spa
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user4: now where does y/n get all of these cut head accessories?
yourusername: vinted babes
user5: we love a thrifty queen
user6: storm meaning driving the ferrari shit box
yourusername: wow you look great, banishing me to the row behind you just to take this photo was defo worth it
charles_leclerc: you were there for two mins max then you sat with me stop these false narratives
yourusername: lies it was five minutes cause you didn't like the angle
charles_leclerc: i want to look handsome is that too much to ask
yourusername: you're always pretty baby
user7: can they stop like i am so lonely i can't see this
carlossainz55: let it be known that the only way charles can beat me in chess is with y/n's help
yourusername: nooooooo i never helped i was knitting
charles_leclerc: i wasn't cheating !! y/n was just being nice to me
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f1
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 708,954 others
tagged: yourusername
f1: well, that's one way to spend qualifying's red flag. y/n y/ln spent her time in the ferrari garage working on her knitwear.
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user10: she said in her spa post it's a jumper i hope it's for charles
yourusername: it is, lord knows that boy needs all the help he can get in the wardrobe department
charles_leclerc: rude !!!! you never say anything
yourusername: you're always so proud i can't tell you it's bad
charles_leclerc: life ruined
yourusername: but you're so pretty no one cares about your criminal trouser collection
charles_leclerc: back handed compliment, but a compliment nonetheless
user11: she's so unbothered i love her
alexalbon: okay but when is my jumper coming @yourusername i ordered it last month
yourusername: it's coming i swear !!!
alexalbon: you let charles skip the line again didn't you
yourusername: maybe ...
yourusername
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liked by lilymunhe, charles_leclerc and 481,056 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: hoping for a drier sunday, drowned rat is definitely not my aesthetic
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user12: the first picture i am going to rip my skin off
charles_leclerc: is this the appropriate time to say save a horse ride a cowboy?
pierregasly: this is why ferrari is a red flag
yourusername: howdy
pierregasly: you people are gross
charles_leclerc: you talk about ur dick at any give opportunity
yourusername: and no one actually calls you tripod
user13: damn.... couples that drag together stay together
pierregasly: ok. i will refrain from talking about your sex life publicly.
user14: i love that y/n posts about knitting just as much as she posts about charles.
yourusername: charles is the side chick
charles_leclerc: it's true i've been told to roll over in bed to make more room for the yarn
f1wagsupdates
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liked by user15, user16 and 2,304 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: appreciation post for my favourite wag !!
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user17: i want to be her when i grow up
user18: i need her hair care routine asap
user19: can we stop putting these women on a pedestal for like no good reason?
user20: usually i'd agree but y/n has nothing but kind and a good role model, so if you idolise one wag it might as well be her
user21: her style is so underrated
user22: i need the jacket in the third slide
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 770,984 others
tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc
scuderiaferrari: there's two types of people during a red flag at spa
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user23: they're so precious to me
charles_leclerc: i wish i could relax that much in the ferrari garage
yourusername: i am not relaxed, i am actually the most stressed, i just hide it well
charles_leclerc: maybe we'll confiscate the needles for the actual races
yourusername: probably the only wise strategy in that garage
user24: i love how y/n keeps going for ferrari's neck and charles just can't reply
carlossainz55: it's so cold can i get my christmas jumper order early @yourusername ?
yourusername: that's a big queue to skip chilli i'm not sure i can comply with that
carlossainz55: if i changed my name to charles would this change?
yourusername: maybe 🤔
user25: the sky camera is obsessed with her and i am exactly the same thank you for the content
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 508,673 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: it's a bit cold in spa so charlie's new jumper (just finished) is coming in handy straight away
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user26: LORD PLEASE I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS
user27: okay this is cute and all, but DAMN that jumper is so fucking cute y/n is so talented
charles_leclerc: i think the phrase is: came in clutch
yourusername: you're welcome baby
charles_leclerc: i retract my previous statement about confiscating the knitting needles and i will give up more space in bed for the yarn if this is what i get
yourusername: not us having a polyamorous relationship with KNITTING
user28: so like i need y/n to open up a shop
alexalbon: i hope mine comes next
yourusername: i'm on it already albono
lilymunhe: on his jumper or the one for me that he asked for
yourusername: yours obvs
alexalbon: mugged off again
charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,409,874 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: words cannot describe how much i love you (and your knitting). as george would say i am snug as a bug in a rug and it's all thanks to you
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user29: SNUG AS A BUG IN A RUG CHARLES WHO ARE YOU
yourusername: can they start the race so we can go be snug as a bug in a rug back at the hotel?
charles_leclerc: omw to the fia hq rn
yourusername: thanks baby
georgerussell63: i thought this was my job but thanks charles i guess
charles_leclerc: man of the people and the cuddles
user30: lord i am so lonely
danielricciardo: y/n x enchante collab when?
yourusername: coming to mclaren rn
charles_leclerc: so my cuddles mean nothing?
yourusername: have you seen this man's pricing we'll be rich baby
charles_leclerc: we are rich baby
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note: pls enjoy, requests may take a while cause your girl managed to break her finger lol
3K notes · View notes
eddiesxangel · 4 months
Note
Could you do a smutty Eddie Munson fic where he’s your older brother’s bsf?
maybe reader has had a crush on Eddie for a while and when she finally decides to move on and date someone Eddie gets jealous?
What Eddie Doesn’t Know | Eddie x f!reader
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AN: I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took a while to complete. Thank you for the request; I haven’t been inspired by anything non-Christmas-themed in a while. I was literally barking at the trope.
wc: 7.1k oops
Cw: f!reader, reader is 19 and in collage and Eddie is 22 and a full time mechanic, reader goes by a nickname, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, angst, cheating (on the reader but not by Eddie), smut (pet names, oral, dirty talk, p in v), the fluffy ending!
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Pathetic. That was how you felt at this moment in time. Here you were at your college homecoming party, and all you could do was be a wallflower, watching in self-pity as the love of your life. ( who doesn’t know is the love of your life) is pressed up on some girl in the back of the room.
"What are you doin' here, Tink?" you pop out of your daze to see your older brother, Adam, addressing you.
Did your parents name you Tink? No. Were you so obsessed with Peter Pan as a child you demanded to go by Tinkerbell? Yes. The nickname kinds just stuck.
"I go here?" You sass him back.
"This party is for upperclassmen only. How did you get in?" Adam was only three years older.
"Eddie's here, and he doesn't even attend school..." You gave him a pointed look.
"Yeah, cuz he is my best friend... like I said, how did you get in?"
"It's a house party, not Studio 54... I walked in."
"I'm going to kill Cory," He mumbled under his breath. Cory was supposed to be manning the door.
"Yeah, you should definitely get better security, all I had to do was let him feel up my tits, and we walked right on in..."
The Neanderthal didn't actually touch you, but the look on Adam's face when you let Adam believe he did? Priceless. You only lied so Adam would leave you alone.
What actually happened was you, Nancy, and Robin scaled the fence and got in through the back door.
"Cory!" Before you knew it, Adam was out of your hair, and you were back to being a wallflower….
"Tink there you are! You wanna continue to mope in the corner, or do you wanna get out of here?" your two best friends/roomies, Robin and her girlfriend Nancy, approach you.
"I guess let's just go." you sigh.
You can no longer bear the sight of Eddie, the boy you've been crushing on since the sixth grade, and your older brother’s best friend, leading the random girl up the stairs hand in hand.
Your stomach lurched at the thought of her hands running all over his body, how he would be on her, kissing her... inside of her. He didn't even know you were here... You should have gone up to him, maybe said hello. Perhaps he would have seen the ridiculous amount of effort you put into your ensemble just to catch his eye. But your efforts were lacking because, to him, you're always going to be Adam's annoying little sister.
You knew you had to get over this, but how could you? He has been in your life for fifteen years and always will be. Adam and Eddie have been friends for as long as you can remember. Your brother stuck by him throughout Eddie's family struggles. Your parents even took him in for a few weeks before CPS found his uncle took over full custody. He was basically your big brother, too, until your pesky teenage hormones started to kick in, and boom! You've been head over heels ever since.
''Good, let's get some greasy burgers and fries to end the night, ok?" Robin smiled.
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In the 24-hour diner on campus, you were sitting at your regular booth with the girls across from you, eating your feelings, trying not to think about what Eddie was doing with that girl.
"So that party was a bust, huh?" Nancy spoke first.
"Yeah, totally... probably because Adam's house hosted." You giggled.
"Not to mention Eddie still didn't see you -OUCH." Robin looked over at Nancy, who was giving her a look of distaste. "Sorry, I meant he is an idiot, and you need to get over him! There are plenty of eligible guys on campus who you could date!"
"Even though my girlfriend is being is harsh, she is right, Tink. It's been so long, and you'll kill yourself over this if you keep this up."
"Ugh, I know! Do you think I'm a masochist or something? I hate to break it to you, but I do not enjoy this. I hate it. I hate that he is the one I think about every day when I wake up. I hate it when I go to sleep; he is the last person on my mind. He takes over my thoughts, and I don't know how to stop it!" You shove a fry into your mouth so you can take a breather.
"What if we found you a new guy? Someone to take your mind off Eddie?" Nancy perked up at her idea.
You heard the diner doorbells chime from behind you.
"I don't know..." Putting all your time and energy into someone new seemed like a lot of emotional work you wanted to avoid going through.
"Yes! Oh my god, Tink, you have to. It's the only way you'll get over him!"
"Get over who?" The silky, sweet voice of a male came from behind you.
You and the girls froze as Eddie, your brother, and a few other guys approached the table.
"No one." You mumbled, trying to fight off the blood rushing across your chest and cheeks.
"You can tell us, Tink! Who are we fighting?" Eddie laughed.
"Tink? What kind of stupid name is that?" one of Adam's jerk friends spoke.
"Excuse me?" you turn to see the guy you've never met.
You heard Adam burst out laughing with the rest of them, but not Eddie.
"Hey man, not cool!" Eddie stood up for you.
And there went the butterflies in your stomach. Eddie was always your protector. Even as kids, when Adam picked on you, he always stood up for you. Even if you weren't around, Eddie always put Adam in his place when it came to you.
You saw, out of the corner of your eye, Eddie shifted his weight down so he could sit beside you. Then, you felt a protective arm wrap around your shoulder.
Fuck. This shit right here is why you can never get over Eddie Munson.
You dared to look up; there he was in all his glory. The way the fluorescent light from above had cast down on him made him look like an angel. He smiled at you, but not before you noticed the dishevelled sex hair he tried to fix and the small amount of pink lipstick that stained the skin on his neck that he didn't quite get off. And the smell… sickly sweet perfume that was definitely not his signature musk.
You quickly turn your head back to your plate because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested…
"You, if you don't leave us alone." Robin piped up. She saw the look of pure disappointment in your eyes. You didn't need Eddie to rub in the fact that he hooked up with someone, especially since now he is smelling like a cheap hooker.
Robin and Nancy thought it was incredibly rude of your brother to flaunt Eddie in front of you like this. Of course, he knew your mega super infinity crush on his best friend. Yet here he is with his drunk-ass buddies, antagonizing you about the guy you needed to get over.
"Woah, Birdie, take it easy; we are just saying hello," Adam chimed in.
“You said hello at the party. Now leave!” You gritted through your teeth.
“You were at the party?” Eddie asked. His voice hitched high. High enough, it was embarrassingly so. Thankfully, his friends were too drunk and hungry to realize. A deep blush crossed his face when he saw you noticed the tone in his voice change. You just have a slight nod and continue to play with the food on your plate.
That’s why you were so dressed up. Eddie thought you looked so pretty, too pretty to be sad about some looser in a diner at one in the morning.
"Do we have a problem here?" A voice none of you recognized came from the booth beside you.
You all look over and see a cute guy with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing your school's rugby jersey. He was so not your type, but you can still admire beauty for what it is. He was a jock; that was clear as he stood up. He was big, more significant than your brother and Eddie, that's for sure.
"Nah, man, it's cool. This is my little sister and her friends." Adam slurs. Clearly, he had more shots since he left you to find Cory.
"I don't care who you are. You're clearly bothering them."
"It's okay, they were just leaving," Nancy said confidently.
"Whatever, let's go, guys," Adam commanded the pac, but Eddie lingered. He didn't like this blondie guy. He didn't like the way he was looking at you.
"Ed, come on!'
Eddie got up and slowly made his way to his friends.
"I'm Jesse," Eddie heard the musclehead speak, and he cringed internally. Something wasn't right. The feelings of anger and protectiveness were filling his mind.
Eddie looked back again and saw you smelling at the stranger as he reached out to shake your hand before sitting beside you.
What kind of freak is alone in a diner at 1:15 am? Eddie thought.
But it didn't seem to phase you or the girls; you were all blinded by his shiny hair and pearly white smile.
Eddie walked out and felt like he wanted to punch something. He needed to get away. He needed to know what the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he feeling this way? Why were you the one causing him distress? You were just Tink? Or so Eddie thought.
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Jesse turned out to be really cool. You exchanged numbers, and he asked you to go to the movies next Friday. You hadn’t been on a date in forever; you had been so hung up on Eddie that any other guy seemed uninteresting. But this time, you were determined that Jesse would be the one to break the cycle. He was much different than you’re generally into, but you have some of the same interests, like movies and music, so you thought you’d go for it.
Jesse picked you up, bought the tickets, and insisted on buying the snacks and drinks. He held your hand and then slowly made his way to wrap his arm around your shoulder. It gave you butterflies you hadn’t felt from anyone else. Before you knew it, you willingly leaned in to make out with him in the back of the theatre.
You were so focused on Jesse that you didn’t notice Eddie was also on a date in the same theatre. But Eddie noticed you. He was seething the whole time. He didn’t pay any attention to his date or the movie. He hogged the popcorn and munched away as he watched you giggle and flirt with the blockhead jock. Eddie didn’t care that he had pissed off his date. He hardly said two words to her when they parted ways, not even offering to drive her home.
He didn’t want to go out with her but had hooked up with her at the party and felt terrible about it then. Now, he can’t even remember her name or why he went upstairs with her in the first place.
You were there, at the party, but he didn’t see you. Now he sees you everywhere, and it’s pissing him off. Why were you on his mind all of the time? For the past week, why have his dreams been consumed by you and you alone? Why did he want to hold you, be with you, talk to you, dare he say… kiss you? You were Adam’s little sister. Well, not so little anymore. You were a late bloomer, but boy, did you bloom.
Eddie hated how the blonde meathead’s hand rested too low on your back. His hands grazed your skirt a little too closely. Eddie wanted to jump the guy, but he couldn’t. He was twice his size. He would be pulverized, and that would be mortifying in front of you. You wouldn’t want him like that anyway, even if he did win in a fight over you!
What the fuck was Eddie thinking? He wasn't… that's the problem. He's now thinking about getting into a physical altercation over you. He isn't able to sleep now without thinking about you. He needed to get his head on straight and quit fucking around. He hoped that if he just focused on the cars at work, this little thing would go away on its own. Maybe he can't remember that he had slipped and hit his head? Yeah, that's it. He hit his head, and now his brain is just confused. He didn't like you like that! This will all go away by tomorrow.
Wrong.
Eddie was plagued with thoughts of you. He caught himself in numerous daydreams about you while doing mindless tuneups and tire changes at the shop. It was getting out of hand; it’s been another week, and he still can’t get you off his mind… Eddie needed to be proactive. The guys were starting to give him shit about it too. They knew he was focused on a girl. They could sense it.
There was another party tonight that Adam mentioned. He will go home and get cleaned up. Then he will go to the party, he will find a nice pretty girl who will let him bury himself inside her, to forget about his thoughts of splitting your open with his cock, and this will all be over.
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You walked into the party hand in hand with Jesse. He was starting to make waves in your life, being only two weeks, but still. He would walk you to your classes and help you study in the library. He would walk you home and kiss you goodbye like the perfect gentleman. He hadn't tried making any advances as of yet. The two of you had only made it to first base. Maybe tonight you would get lucky? You felt ready.
“You want something to drink?” Jesse guided you to the kitchen.
The house was hot and sticky; you were worried about your hair getting frizzy. You worked so hard on it to look good for Jesse. He even complimented it when he picked you up. Forever the gentleman.
“Whatever they have is good.” You smiled up at him.
As the two of you walked into the packed kitchen, you tried to squeeze your way around but got stuck in the crowd. It was much easier for Jesse to get by just with his size alone.
“Excuse me,” you repeated three times, but no one was budging.
“You should be a little bit more assertive,” the voice behind you said. It sent a shiver down your spine.
As you turned, you saw Eddie smirking down at you. He was drunk. You could see that and smell it.
“Hi, Eddie.” You smiled meekly before you felt the weight of Jesse’s arm wrap around you, passing you your drink.
“There you are,” Jesse smiled. "Who's this?"
"That's just Eddie...Eddie, Jesse. Jesse, Eddie." You introduced awkwardly.
Just Eddie. The words stung.
"How do the two of you know each other?" Jesse gestures between the two of you.
"Brothers best friend." You smile.
"That's all I am to you? You wound me, Tink."
The fuck was that supposed to mean?
"Eddie, man! I got us two hotties over by the pool. Let's go!" In comes your obnoxious brother with perfect timing, as always.
"I guess I'll see you around." Eddie sighed.
"Nice meeting you, man." Jesse stuck out his hand.
"Whatever." Eddie brushed him off and left with Adam.
"I'm sorry about him. That was very rude. I don't?- He's usually not like that?"
"It's okay; I can tell a jealous guy when I see one." Jesse shrugged.
You almost spat out your drink. "Jealous?!"
"Oh, it's clear as day, honey."
"No... there is no way. He's never and will never like me... like that." It broke your heart to say that out loud. Your chest felt so heavy as the words came out of your mouth.
As the rest of the night went on, you and Eddie tried avoiding one another like the plague. Those words about him being jealous were swimming around in your head for most of the night, and Eddie was trying to avoid his feelings by being with another girl, but not one stood out to him.
Adam tried getting lucky but struck out when Eddie refused to go with the friend.
"What the fuck is your problem, man? She was like a solid eight out of ten."
"I wasn't into it..." Eddie's eyes found you, and he couldn't break his gaze. You were curled up in the blockhead's lap, sitting by the fire pit, all cozy and giggly. What he would give to have you in his arms like that.
"Oh fuck, not you now." Adam groaned in frustration, seeing where Eddie's googly eyes were directed.
"Huh?" Eddie said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.
"You can't be serious?! That's my little sister, dude; come on!" Adam was always one for the dramatics; that's why he and Edie got on so well.
"Woah, man, I never said anything about your sister."
"Well, it sure is clear by the way you're making heart eyes at her."
"Yeah, right," Eddie scoffed.
"Trust me, dude, it's that same way she looks at you." Adman shook his head. He thought he would be clear of this. That this would never happen, and yet here it is, happening.
"Wait, what? What do you mean?-"
"She's been in love with you since she was twelve... come one like you didn't know?"
"No way, you smoked too much tonight, so something? Maybe my stuff is off?"
"She likes you, dude. Never fucking shuts up about you."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Didn't think it was relevant... I was never going to allow her to be with you! You serious? It's Tink, she's so...ew. You're so above that."
"She's not new," Eddie snapped. He hated how hard Adam had always been on you.
"Whatever, man, too late now. About time she has moved on."
Eddie stood up and walked out of the party without a word. He heard Adam call out, but he ignored him completely. He needed to process what Adam told him. He needed to sober up so he could think clearly. He needed to either make you his or find a way to get over you... and fast.
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That night of the party, you didn't end up getting lucky. You tried making advances, but you inevitably were shot down. He said he didn't want your first time to be when you both had been drinking and in some random bathroom. So you accepted it, even though your horny gremlin was starting to come back to life. But what did happen was he asked you to make it official with him, and you said yes!
Tonight, you had to leave the apartment for your roommate's sake. It was their anniversary, and you told them you could have the place to themselves for a romantic evening. When you told Jesse, your new boyfriend, you needed a place to crash, he offered you his bed. You would go to your classes and then return to his for your first sleeepover as a couple. You were so excited!
Jesse ended class at one in the afternoon that day, and you ended at five, so it worked out perfectly. Luckily enough for you, your professor for your last lecture was ill, so they cancelled class that day. You thought it would be fun to surprise him by showing up early.
When you got to his house, his roommate let you in and said he was in his room with his friend Connor. So when you knocked on the door and walked in a few seconds later, you did not expect to see the two men in bed, naked...
You screamed and covered your eyes, absolutely mortified that you had walked in on them. You were so unbelievably hurt that you had been deceived. Why would he ask you to be exclusive if he was sleeping around?! And on the night when you thought you would get to have sex with your new boyfriend.
You did not give Jesse any time to explain himself as he tried to get out of the tangled sheets and arms of the other man. You heard your name being called out, but you ran out of there like a bat out of hell.
Tears stung your cheeks as the cold autumn air began to settle in. The rumble of the dark clouds was also looking quite ominous.
Just your luck. Of course, you would find your boyfriend in the arms of another man, and of course, the universe would make you walk him in the rain. How poetic.
A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, and that's when the rain came down in buckets. At least it could cover up your tears. You continued walking, but you couldn't think of a place to go? You could not ruin your roommate's night. There is no way Adam would let you stay in his frat house, not that you would want to anyway, and your friends from the class went home for the weekend. Shit... maybe you could spend the majority of the night in the diner and then just walk home really late once they were defiantly sleeping. But your clothes were soaked and---
“Tink, what’s wrong?” you were snapped out of your thoughts by none other than the man who was the cause of this whole mess.
Eddie rolled down the work van window. He was covered in motor oil and dirty from working all day. His muscles ached, and he badly needed a hot shower, but now all he could focus on was you and why you were upset.
“Leave me alone, Eddie.” He hadn’t ever heard you speak to him like this?
“Tink, come on, it’s a literal thunder storm. Let me take you home.”
“Can’t, girls are having date night… told them to have the place to themselves.” You continued to walk as the chill from the rain was beginning to seep through to your bones. Your teeth betray you as the chatter starts.
“Where were you supposed to be right now?”
“None of your business!”
“Tink, don’t make me pull over!”
“Screw you, Eddie!”
“That’s it.” Eddie parked the car and got out. “You’re coming with me.” Eddie picked you up over his shoulder, and you let out a screech.
“Eddie! Put me down, you caveman!” You screamed. If anyone saw you, it looked like you were being kidnapped and taken into a murder van.
“No, can do Tink. I’m taking you home to warm you up. Then you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on.” He commanded. And if you weren’t so mad, you’d say you were a little turned on by his voice.
You hear the car door open before he plops you into the passenger seat.
“Get in” he points to your legs hanging out of the car.
“Make me.” you shiver.
“You’re being such a child! Let me help you.”
“Fine!” You swing your legs into the van, and Eddie slams the door closed, making you wince.
The car ride was quiet besides the radio and your chattering teeth. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but it was of no help. Your t-shirt and jeans clung to you like a second skin, and the car heater was only blowing cool air. You swore you thought your nipples could cut glass.
Eddie said nothing as he tugged you over on the bench seat and wrapped a warm arm around you. You broke out into another chill, but this time, you weren't sure if it was from the rain or from Eddie.
Even though Eddie was self-conscious of smelling like motor oil and body odour, he was more worried about you catching hypothermia.
Once you were inside Eddie's warm apartment, he noticed how your body was on display. You would be the clear winner if you were in a wet t-shirt contest, that's for sure. Eddi's eyes were wide with desire, but he returned to reality when you asked if you could use his shower to warm up.
Eddie nodded absentmindedly as he thought about you being naked in his shower.
"Uh, you mind if I borrow a towel and some dry clothes? I have mine, but they got soaked through my overnight bag..."
"Yeah! Uh- I mean, sure, yeah, whatever..."
You blushed slightly at Eddie, trying to play it cool. He ran to his bedroom and returned with a handful of different fabrics. You took them and then headed into the bathroom.
The hot water defrosted your bones, and when you stepped into Eddie's clothes, his sent hit you like a tidal wave. You brought the old black corroded coffin band tee that he had from high school up to your nose and inhaled deeply. You felt immediate comfort being here, with Eddie, wearing his clothes.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in the towel, Eddie couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.
"Not a word," you warn.
Eddie mock zipped his lips, then gestured to the couch for you to sit beside him.
"Sorry about being a pain earlier; you caught me at a really, really bad time."
"It's okay, Tink, you're here with me now; that's all that matters." Eddie let the towel around your head fall back so he could see your natural hair. "You wanna tell me what happened? I've never seen you so upset."
"You shook your head no, "It's too embarrassing."
"Come on, it's me we are talking about here."
You paused for a deep breath and decided to just lay it all out on the table... how much worse could it get, right?
“You remember Jesse, right?” Eddie could feel his fist tightening, but he said nothing while nodding his head with a tight lip. What the fuck did he do to you? “Well, he asked me to be his girlfriends no less than a week ago, and I was supposed to spend the night at his place… but I went over early and found him in bed with… someone.” Eddie went to say something but realized you weren’t finished and let you continue.
“Pathetic, isn’t it?! I finally get a boyfriend, and the moment I want to actually sleep with someone who isn’t you, they are in the arms of someone else! Am I really that undesirable?! I was practically throwing myself at him, and it turns out he was fucking his “friend” the whole time.”
You had missed your slip-up, but Eddie hadn't. Eddie didn’t hear anything after “I want to sleep with someone who isn’t you,”
So Adam was right…
“Eddie? Eddddiiieee?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face to try and get back his attention.
Great, so now you’re undesirable AND boring.
“Sorry what?”
“Forget it… you don’t wanna hear about my pitty party. I’ll call a cab and head back to… oh shit, I can’t even go home!”
“Stay here.”
“Eddie, I couldn’t possibly-”
“Yes. Stay. Take my bed; I’ll take the couch.”
“Eddie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not, Tink?” He brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, and those pesky butterflies erupted within your core.
“Because…” because I’m in love with you and don’t know if I can hold back my feelings any longer.
“Exactly, you can’t come up with one. Let me take care of you.” Eddie’s voice dropped an octave.
A chill travelled down your spine. His touch is electric. Any time you’re with Eddie, your body feels like it’s been recharged.
As you gaze into Eddie’s eyes, this undeniable magnetic pull connects you. Was he leaning in? Or were you? Maybe it was the both of you? There was little to no space between you. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, alone with Eddie in his apartment.
“I should get cleaned up,” Eddie whispered. He was so close you could taste the spearmint Nicorette gum he had been chewing. It took everything in his power to pull away. He wanted to kiss you so very badly, but he got a whiff of himself, and he needed to wash up. I would be unfair to you.
“Oh, okay,” you breathed in, and Eddie slid back.
“You can make yourself at home, okay? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be 10 minutes.”
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Eddie was freaking out in the shower, and you were freaking out in the kitchen. While Eddie scrubbed his skin so hard he thought he would scrub it off completely, you went to the fridge to find anything to help calm your nerves.
There wasn’t anything in the fridge, but the freezer, on the other hand... Bingo. You poured yourself a shot of vodka and almost threw up, but you held it together with a chaser of orange juice. You took one more for good measure and then made your way back to the couch. As you waited for your liquid courage to kick in, you flicked around on the TV but didn’t really pay much attention. Your thoughts were swimming with questions and possible scenarios that could play out this evening.
You were taken away from your inner thoughts when Eddie exited the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You tried not to make it obvious, but the alcohol clouded your awareness of your face.
“Sorry, I left my clothes in the bedroom” he saw you eye fucking him and gave a little smirk.
“It’s okay. Totally okay.” you sighed.
The sight of his wet, bare torso makes your heart race, his flesh covered in goosebumps, his nipples perked, and his hair soaked yet still so sexy. Your stomach simultaneously flip-flopped. And as for your pussy… well, she got a little excited at the heavenly sight in front of you.
“Yeah,” You wanna see more, Tink? Eddie thought to himself.
“Yeah.” You sighed before he disappeared into his bedroom.
Minutes later, Eddie returned, and the two of you acted as if nothing happened. Neither of you willing to break the tension first. So you both sat silently, watching some random TV movie while you prayed to come up with something to discuss. You wanted to talk so badly with him.
“This couch is pretty lumpy; it wouldn’t be fair to make you sleep on it.” You felt terrible that he offered his bed. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Nope. No way.” Eddie shook his head.
“Eddie.” You huffed.
“Tink,” he mocked back.
“You need a good sleep! You work a strenuous job…And my back can take it.”
I bet your back could take it, Eddie thought.
“You calling me old, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart, your stomach did a flip-flop again.
“No.” You snicker at his accusation.
“I don’t think I believe you” Eddie’s tone dropped again.
“Well, I’m not letting up”
“Neither am I; you’re sleeping in my bed whether I’m on it or not.
“Oh...”
“Yeah, oh.” Eddie sat back and the both of you finished the movie in silence.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but Eddie shook your shoulder awake.
“Come on Tinkerbell we are going to bed.” You think you hear Eddie whisper.
Were you dreaming? Did Eddie just tell you the two of you were going to bed?
“Mmm?”
“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, remember? Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”
“Okay, Eddie, “ you agreed in your sleepy haze.
You feel his arm wrap under yours as he helps you off the couch.
“There you go.” Eddie coos as he places you down gently.
The moment your head hits the pillow, you’re suddenly wide awake. You’re in Eddie’s bed. Eddie is getting in next to you.
“Figured we would compromise.” He slid next to you but over the covers with a throw blanket.
“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part.
“Thanks for letting me stay… and giving me a shoulder to cry on.” You cringed with embarrassment at the last part. “You seem to always be there for me…” you turn to your side to face Eddie.
“I’ll always be there for you, Tink, whether you like it or not…” Eddie also turns so he is facing you.
“Eddie.” Your breath hitched.
“Yes Tink.”
Fuck are you really going to spill your guts to him here and now?
“I… I wanna-need to tell you something.” You close your eyes, not daring to look at him.
“I think I might have an idea.”
“You-what?” Eyes still closed
You feel the bed shift and feel Eddie's warm breath fan your lips.
“Do you trust me?” Eddie whispered.
You aren’t brave enough to speak. So you tentatively nod your head yes.
“Do you trust me, Tink? I need you to say it.” He asked once more.
You slowly opened your eyes and bravely opened your mouth. “Yes, Ed’s, I trust you.”
A slight smile graces Eddie’s before you watch him lean in with a pucker.
Your heart skipped a beat the moment his lips touched yours.
Holy shit.
Eddie Munson was kissing you. Eddie Munson, your older brother's best friend, who you’ve been in love with for seven years, is now kissing you… in his bed… late at night… with no one else around. It was like fireworks were going off. It was everything you ever wanted and more.
It was all you had ever dreamed of, and now he was blowing your expectations out of the water. You had to have more. You needed this to last forever.
Your hands moved up to cup his face. His cheeks were rough with stubble, contrasting his soft plush lips. Eddie shifted closer to you. You could feel his body through the thick blankets that separated the two of you, but you wanted to be closer to him. You threw the blankets and all caution to the wind when you shifted to wrap your legs around him.
Eddie rolled so he was on top of you. To your surprise, you felt his firm cock pressed to your thigh, which made you moan softly.
“Fucking hell, Tink”
“Eddie, please, I need you.”
“Didn’t take you long to beg,” he chuckled darkly.
“Well, it took you long enough to see me.”
Eddie gazed into your eyes like he was looking at you for the first time. Like really seeing you. He muttered your name, your real name, for the first time, and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your face before you strained your neck to take his lips once more.
Eddie’s strong hands grazed your waist and settled on your hips, pinning you down to the mattress. His weight is entirely on you now. Your knees hitched up, and you opened your hips more to give him more room.
“Eddie,” you gasped into his mouth. Eddie ground his hips into yours, and you let out another soft moan.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You, it’s always been you.” You confessed.
Eddie didn’t say anything in reply but instead worked his fingers to the waistband of his sweatpants that you dawned.
“This okay?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you rushed. You’ve waited too long for this moment.
“Eager, aren’t we?”
“Don’t be mean,” You shove the pants off your ankles and go for your shirt.
“Wait… let me.” Eddie sat up so you could as well. His hands brushed the hem and slowly pulled the shirt he let you borrow off of you.
He took in your naked frame in front of him.
Shit, you weren’t wearing your panties this whole time? They must have been soaked as well from the rain. Eddie thought.
Eddie saw you shy away as you sat there naked in front of the boy you loved as he took you all in.
It didn’t take long before Eddie’s hands roamed your skin, finding your breasts.
“You’re so soft.” Eddie moaned into your neck as he took in the fact that you now smelled like him. He sent all over you; he was feral. He needed to claim you as his own. How could he be so blind all these years? You were perfect; you were everything he ever wanted.
“Do you like soft?”
“Very much so.”
Eddie melted into you once more as he travelled down your body, kissing and nipping at every inch. You softly moaned when he flicked your nipples with his tongue, and you really moaned when he reached your wet pussy.
How Eddie loved the noises he was pulling from you. He would do anything to make you sing for him.
“You like that baby? You want me to touch you… here?” His index finger grazed your wet slit.
“Yes” you replied quickly, a little too quickly.
“Good, I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.”
You giggled, but it was cut off by the feeling of Eddie’s fingertips grazing your clit.
You’d daydreamed countless times about how his fingers would feel while you watched him while he and your brother jammed in your garage.
He circled your clit before dipping his head down to kiss your lower lips. Reality hit you once again. Eddie was eating you out. Eddie was eating you out like a man starved, in fact. How was he so good at this? Scratch that you didn’t want to know. Your thoughts slowed down as Eddie’s thick fingers entered your wet hole.
“Eddie!” You yelled with pleasure.
“Oh yes, sweetheart, say my name.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you replayed like a mantra.
As his fingers grazed that spot that only you managed to find when you were alone in your bed, exploring your body. You fell apart in his hands.
“Your pussy grips me so good, god I can’t wait to fuck you.”
“Please, Eddie,” you begged in your blissed-out daze.
“Let me hear it again,” he smirked.
“I need you, please. I want your cock so badly."
“Mmmmmm, as you wish.” he pulled back so he could strip. You watched as his tight muscles flexed as he pulled off his shirt, then scrunched as he bent over to take off his bottoms.
His cock sprung out of their confines, and your breath hitched for what you thought was at least the fourth time that night.
You’ve imagined what it would look like, but none of the times ever did you imagine he was this hung. No wonder he was so confident and cocky around women. It was long, thick, and straight. No curvatures, just pure rod.
“I don’t think that’s going to fit,” you blurt out, not thinking.
“Don’t worry, Baby. It’ll fit.” he slunk back down on you, peppering your lips with more sensual kisses. His fingers travelled down to your pussy, stretching you out again, only this time, he used 3 fingers to make sure you were nice and ready.
“Please, I’m ready” You ground your pussy into Eddie’s hand.
Eddie reached over into his drawer, pulled out a condom, and slipped it over his shaft as quickly as possible. Seemed that he was just as eager as you.
Eddie kissed you hard as his cock slipped past your wet folds and inside, splitting you open. The wonderful burn of his cock burying itself inside of you. What could you say? It had been a while, and Eddie was the biggest you’ve ever had.
“Slowly,” you guided Eddie as he rocked his hips, giving you time to adjust.
“God, you’re so tight”
“Mmmphmm”
“Your noises are so pretty.” Eddie tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.
Eddie took your breath away as he looked into your eyes. He was being so soft and gentle with you as if you could break.
“Eddie, please.”
“I got you, Princess”
Eddie rocked his hips with more emphasis; his body was moulding into yours. As his cock grazed your tight walls, you felt your body was brought to life.
“Oh fuck” your words slipped, not even realizing you were speaking.
“Come’on baby, let me hear you”
“You’re making me feel so good, Eddie!”
“More, tell me who you belong to.”
“ You! always been you, Eddie, please, I wanna come. Please make me cum on your cock.”
“Good girl. You’re being so good, f’me” Eddie's hips slapped into the backs of your thighs, and he plummeted into you, making you cry out in pleasure.
Eddie grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them back to your shoulders, only making the angle more delicious as he fucked you. He watched as his cock disappeared into your wanton pussy. He watched as you clenched down on his cock, and he almost lost it as he tried not to cum right then and there.
“Fuck me, Tink! Your pussy is too good,” he gritted through his teeth, trying to keep the pace without blowing his load.
“Eddie!” Your body was on fire as his cock continuously hit your g spot. Your lower belly tingled as the feeling of your orgasm built up again.
“You close, baby?”
“Yes”
“Cum for me.”
“More, I need more.”
Eddie slipped his hand between you and gently circled your clit once again.
You moan, cockdrunk as your body begins to spasm around Eddie’s cock.
“Yes, that’s it, come on baby. Keep cuming. That’s my girl.”
Your eyes roll back into your head, and you clamp your jaw. Every muscle tightens and clenches as your second orgasm rips through you.
“Good girl. Good fuckin girl.” Eddie praises as he empties himself into the condom.
After a few moments of the two of you catching your breath and Eddie discarding the used condom, you break the silence.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief.
“Adam is going to kill me,” Eddie laughed.
“Good, I’ve been meaning to get him back. You roll over to snuggle in his arms.
“And to think you were supposed to be in another man’s bed tonight.” Eddie hated that idea.
“At least I ended up in the right man’s bed.”
Tagging those who seemed interested: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow @itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
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~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
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~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
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the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure
gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.
you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.
he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"
you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"
"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"
"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.
you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.
~~~
some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.
when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.
"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.
"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.
after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"
there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"
your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.
"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.
rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.
you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."
"p-promise?"
"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.
gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.
gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.
~~~
the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.
you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.
he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.
your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.
gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.
he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.
he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.
~~~
leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.
you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.
crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.
"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."
gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.
"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.
he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?
"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"
he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.
he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"
god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.
i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.
"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."
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loveshotzz · 2 months
Text
I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter one -
Late arrivals and big asks
A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.
warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.
wc: 10.1k
series masterlist | series playlist
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June - 
The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.
Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.
Robin.
Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten. 
“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?” 
The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.
“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”
Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.
Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.
“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.
“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.
“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”
There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins. 
“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”
He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.
“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”
Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton. 
“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.
“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.
“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks. 
“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.” 
Your best friend scoffs at you.
“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.
“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.
“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.
It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs. 
“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!” 
It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up. 
“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do. 
See Steve Harrington again.
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I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’
You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.
“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.
“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face. 
She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.
“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”
“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.
“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”
The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her. 
“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house. 
It’s just a summer, right?
The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house. 
Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.
“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail. 
“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.
“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.
Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.
Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it. 
“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.
Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him. 
Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.
“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years. 
His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun. 
His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves. 
“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.
“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.
Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation. 
God, you wish you could’ve had that drink. 
The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive. 
His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though. 
His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.
Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?
“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“ 
Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.
You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.
Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.
“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”
“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.
“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.
“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”
His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.
“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”
It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more. 
“I’m here for the summer.”
Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare. 
“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.
“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair
“Cause I’ve, uh,  you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.
“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”
She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.
“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”
“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”
“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.
It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs. 
“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.
“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.
A whole summer? Fuck.
“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”
You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.
“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.
“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.
“Seriously–
“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.
“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.
Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.
“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge. 
You know how this game works.
“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.
“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?” 
You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.
“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.
“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.
“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.
“Robin!”
“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”
“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.
“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”
“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away. 
Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.
“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”
“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”
“Cheers!” 
You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”
She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”
“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.
There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.
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With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food. 
“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.
An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.
“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout. 
You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.
“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”
“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.
“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”
“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.
“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.
You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight. 
Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.
You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.
Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.
“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“
“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”
“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission. 
His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap. 
Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.
“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”
“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.
“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up. 
“Does she know that?” 
“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer. 
So you scoot back.
“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.
“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”
“Robin!” 
“What?!”
She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.
“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.  
Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.
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You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.
It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat. 
“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.
“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.
The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.
“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.
‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.
“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?” 
Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one. 
“I am twenty-four and single.”
Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.
“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”
“No -“
“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”
“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s. 
“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.
“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.
“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.
“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt. 
Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.
“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.
“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.
“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.
“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“
“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.
He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door. 
“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.
You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.
You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.
“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.
“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.
You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.
“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more. 
“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.
You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.
“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.
“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.
“You really broke my heart, you know that?”
Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it. 
You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him. 
He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.
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“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”
Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall. 
Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.
“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.
“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.
I’m just tutoring him.
That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington. 
It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.  
The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch. 
“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room. 
“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.
“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.
A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.
“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.
“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway. 
Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of. 
It was Pity.
Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen. 
“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.
“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”
“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.
“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.
“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters. 
Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget. 
“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”
Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse. 
Ibuprofen first, then your car.
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Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light. 
The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.
The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.
Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.
“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.
“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.
“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.
“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”
The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement. 
“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat. 
“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.” 
That was a lie, he begged him.
“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.
It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage. 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.
He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.
“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.
“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.
“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”
“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.
“Look -“
“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.
“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them. 
A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.
“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“
“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…
“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.
“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him. 
“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”
“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”
“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.
“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.” 
“Is this the bad news?” 
“Kind of,”
“What do you mean kind of?”
“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.
“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.
“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.
“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.
“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”
He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck. 
“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.
“Me?” 
He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch. 
“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.
He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath. 
Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.
“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes. 
“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”
Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.
“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”
It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,
“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”
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beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean
🌻 chapter two
1K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 5 months
Text
our secret moments.
ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers
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in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.
this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D
songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument
5.6k words
-
your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.
vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.
you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.
high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.
he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.
but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.
“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”
both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.
your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.
your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.
lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.
your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.
okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.
“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.
“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“
“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.
“he is!” you protest, waving them off.
you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.
“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.
“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.
the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.
you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.
“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.
you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.
“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”
lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.
it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.
you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by: landonorris, yourfriendnancy, yourfriendmia, maxfewtrell and 378,654 others
youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday
user: are they together?
otheruser: mother?
landonorris: lost millions.
user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.
and 444 other comments
-
you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.
apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.
“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.
“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.
“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.
“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.
you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.
lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.
“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.
“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.
“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.
lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.
“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.
“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”
he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by: landonorris, ashjbibby, yourfriendnancy and 344,555 others
youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)
landonorris: whoops?
user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?
user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.
user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?
yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.
otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW
and 567 other comments
-
“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.
“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.
you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.
none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.
you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.
you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.
“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.
“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.
“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.
you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.
“lando, why are you doing this?”
“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.
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youruser: dinner w bestie
user: lando took this. bet.
user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando
landonorris: how was dinner?
youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.
user4: a date if i ever saw one?
user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?
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the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.
your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.
“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.
“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.
“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.
“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.
“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.
“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.
“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.
you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.
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youruser: new heights n pretty lights
user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.
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user: mommy? huh who said that?
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user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?
user81: oscar 😭😭
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user11: the wags are fighting omg
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your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.
nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.
lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.
you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.
so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.
that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.
it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.
but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.
no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.
cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.
“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.
“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.
“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“
“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.
“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.
great, now you are crying.
“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“
alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.
“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.
fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.
“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*
“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.
“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.
your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.
you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.
you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.
-
the flight home is quiet.
your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.
you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.
you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.
he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.
“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.
“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.
your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.
“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.
“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.
“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.
“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.
“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.
“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”
“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.
“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.
“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.
“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”
fuck.
-
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you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.
from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?
he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.
you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.
the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.
you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.
he says your name, and the world stops for a second.
“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.
you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.
“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.
“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.
you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.
someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.
you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.
dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.
plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.
“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.
“lead the way.”
he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.
“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.
“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.
“come home with me.”
you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.
you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.
-
the door slams softly behind you.
lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.
“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.
your breath hitches in your throat.
“neither can i.” you whisper.
“we can be more.”
“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.
“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.
“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.
“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.
lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“can i…?” lando mutters.
you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.
“of course you can.”
he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.
you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.
“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.
the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.
“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.
“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.
“say it.”
“fucking incredible.”
“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.
his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.
his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.
lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.
“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.
“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.
“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.
“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.
lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.
“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.
he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.
he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.
“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.
“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.
your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.
the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.
lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.
one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.
“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.
“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.
lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.
“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.
“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.
“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.
“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”
“oh?” he coos, mockingly.
“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.
“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”
the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.
lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.
“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.
“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.
“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.
he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.
“you sure?”
“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.
it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.
your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.
you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.
lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.
“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”
the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.
you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.
-
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youruser: our secret moments
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intoxicated-chan · 11 months
Note
I just wanted to say I love your writing 😭 and if I could request like what if Miguel O’Hara was kinda close with some spider kid (around like 16?) and they reminded him of the daughter he lost? (All in a platonic father m daughter way)
Welcome to the Family
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara & Spider!Teen!F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel didn’t know what you reminded him of, but it takes a few times to finally get it.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Welcome to the Family” by Avenged Sevenfold. Thank you for waiting and for requesting! And thank you for loving my writing. It means a lot.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.5k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, abuse, angst-to-fluff, talk of marriage, violence, injuries…
Small Spoiler Warning for ATSV!!
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Alright, let me explain… My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I was bitten by a radioactive spider. For the past two years, I’ve been the one and only Spider-Woman. I thought everything was going well until I was disowned by my parents, and lost my aunt the same day. From then on, I chose to be distant from society, no matter how much I craved a relationship.
“What are you doing here (F/n).” You crossed your arms, staring directly at the man you once called father.
“I’m still your father.”
“I thought you said, you’re no longer the child I raised?” You told.
“Don’t talk back to me!”
“I’m simply stating the fact is all.”
He shakes his head, “You know, your mother is disappointed. And I’m sure your aunt would be as well.”
Your eyes narrow at him, “Don’t you speak of my aunt.”
“I can talk to her however I want, she is my sister.”
“A sister you abandoned.”
The second he stepped towards you, you jumped back, keeping yourself at a distance, “Why the hell are you here anyways? I know you don’t want to see me.”
“You can still make this right.” He started to explain, “The boy’s family is still willing to have you, even after your idiotic display of teenage emotions. You either take the boy or leave.”
“I told you I won’t. It’s shocking how you’re willing to betray your daughter over a family you don’t even know.”
“I never wanted a daughter! If you want to make things right, if you want us to forgive you, then you will marry this boy!”
“And I told you no! Now get out of here!” You shouted at him, “Leave me alone!”
“I should’ve left you and your mother the day you were born.” And with that, he’s gone, slamming the door to the rooftop on his way out.
But you. You’re a mess.
Your mother didn’t hate you as much as your father did, but you could see it every time she looked at you. The disappointment, the failure, and how much of a disgrace you were to your so-called family.
And that boy was supposed to fix everything, only because he was made of money.
You fell to your knees, holding yourself as tight as possible as you cried to yourself. As much as you were out of there, you were all alone.
No family and you lost your only friend. Your aunt.
Then, you saw trash floating in front of you. You grabbed the cab right out of the air and saw it reflecting colors that were behind you… Behind you?
You slowly stood, turning around to see a rather colorful portal. It was causing some effect as everything around it was floating, then you heard it.
First, it sounded like a whisper then it came right at you. Luckily you dodged on time and the figure flew past you.
A loud thud, followed by a man’s voice getting angry at a woman called Lyla.
You hid behind a metal pole, watching the man stand to his feet, “This is the fourth time Lyla!” He growled.
“I told you, it’s still in the prototype stage.” She retorted.
“And I-“ He sees you, badly hiding behind the pole.
“…Hi?” You wave.
“Lyla, is this?”
“Yep, this universe’s Spider-Man, or Spider-Woman.” She corrected.
“I’m-“ His nose scrunches, “Is this a bad time?”
“What?”
He points to his eyes, “They’re red.”
“Oh! Um, it’s fine. Everything is fine.” You lie, rubbing your eyes and probably making them worse, “It was taken care of.”
He hums, “Then, I’m Miguel O’Hara and I’m Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man? But I thought I was the only one.” You began to circle him, “But your suit is very… Blue.”
“Thanks. As I was saying, I am Spider-Man but from another universe. I need you to come with me.”
“Why should I go with you?” You eye him up and down.
“I’ve seen what happened here. How your parents are disappointed in you. All I am asking you is to trust me, I offering you a chance for a new chance.” He sticks his hand out, “So?”
That was almost a year ago…
“I can look after Mayday for you.” You tell Peter B. who looks very tired.
“Are you sure?” He tiredly asked.
“Of course, go and get some rest.” Taking Mayday in your arms and pushing him away, “Looks like it’s me and you today!”
She coos at you, reaching toward your face, “How about we pay Uncle Miggy a visit? Wouldn’t that be fun?” She giggles in response, “Let’s go then.” Holding her tightly, not wanting to swing with her arms.
Miguel’s eyes are focused on the screen, hearing his daughter’s laughter made him heartache.
“Miguel!” You shout from below, “Care to come down?! I rather not have her fall!”
He’s fast to close the screen and lowering his desk or… The desk is down on the ground. A minute later, it hits the ground and he turns to face you.
“Yes?” He rubs his eyes.
“Tired as well?”
“No.”
“Lies!” You come closer, taking a seat on the floating thing, “Come on, sit with me.” Setting Mayday on the ground, luckily her web shooter was taken away recently.
Miguel does as you say, “Is something wrong?” He asked.
“I just wanted to talk to you, is that wrong?”
“No, no. It’s just you sounded worried at first. I thought something happened.”
You run your fingers through her hair carefully, “You’re doing it again, shutting everyone out by shoving yourself into work.”
Miguel sighs, “I told you, the fate of the multiverse-“
“Let’s not talk about work right now.” You use your webbing to bring the paper bag towards you, “I know sweets are not your thing so I brought an empanada with me.”
Two cupcakes and an empanada. One for you and Mayday. You hand the empanada to Miguel who gladly takes it.
Then hand a cupcake to Mayday, “Please eat it carefully.” You beg her, knowing either way it’s going to be a mess.
Before you could even take a bite out of yours, she begins climbing you with her sweet still in hand which makes some of the fostering go on you.
“Mayday!” You laugh, and she sets herself on your shoulders, eating her cupcake, “At least she’s happy.” Finally, you take a bite of yours, not noticing Miguel’s stare.
His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, and his breathing staggered. His heart once again broke at the sight. He didn’t know what to feel, what to say, or do.
“Miguel? Are you alright?” You gently pull Mayday off your shoulders and back to the ground, “You haven’t taken a bite.”
“Yeah.” He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, “I’m alright.”
Then a few weeks pass… or so you thought.
“This was his fault!”
“He was just trying to help!”
“Help?! Look where it put her!”
Whose voice was whose? Why does everything feel so heavy? Why… Why is it so dark?
“Miguel! Calm down!”
“Enough! Both of you leave the room.” Jessica orders, “She’s waking up.”
“No, I want to be here.” Miguel tried to stay.
“You’ll see her after you calm down, now go.” Jessica watched until she was sure they were gone.
You open your heavy eyes, wincing at the light in the room, “Jessica?”
“Welcome back. Took your time.”,
“What happened?”
“You went out and followed Gwen to Pavitr’s universe, and so did Miles and Hobie. But everything went haywire, and the ground under you collapsed. You fell a good number of floors. Hobie brought you back.” She explained.
“Miles… Where is he?”
“That’s not my place to say. I know Miguel is waiting outside, I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Thanks, Jessica.”
She leaves and Miguel practically runs in, taking the seat next to your bed.
“…Hi.” You say, sitting up.
“How are you feeling?” Miguel asked.
“Tired, confused… Not sure how to feel after but-“
“(Y/n), you’ve been unconscious for a few weeks. You didn’t just fall, you went in after I told you no.”
“You know I’m not going to stand by.”
“But none of this would’ve happened if you just stayed and done what I told you.”
“Why do you care? I thought your focus was on the multiverse?”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“But why?”
“Because-!” He takes a deep breath, “…I can’t lose another daughter. I never told you what happened but you know that I lost her. I wanted you to stay to the side all these times because every time I look at you, you’re so much like her. Losing you would be the day I snap.”
“I’m… Sorry that I remind you of her. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You whisper.
“I know you didn’t, and I’m just happy that you’re happy.”
You smile, “Can I say something?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.
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natailiatulls07 · 5 months
Note
Hi Ivan you please do teenage reader is Jules bianchi daughter and Charles raised her as he’s her godfather and she’s his pride and joy and grew up basically at the paddock so all the drivers knew her and are like uncles to her and there all wrapped around her finger cause of how sweet she is ( she’s like sunshine ) and can you do them and Charles reaction to her getting her first boyfriend?
Marguerite
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Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader
Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader
Summary - Charles’ little sister, is now dating but that’s not much of a celebration to her brother and the three other drivers
Warnings - swearing in french, probably horrible french translations lmao, Jules Bianchi's death, funeral
A/n - Charles and Y/n aren’t blood related but consider each other brother and sister
Marguerite
-
2015
Front row in Nice Cathedral sat Y/n Bianchi. She was dressed in a lacy black dress, her hair in curls tied up in a half up half down hairstyle. Beside her was Charles Leclerc, her older brother. He kept glancing over at the nine year old girl.
In front of them sat her fathers coffin surrounded with daisies, his favourite flower. It was also what Jules nicknamed Y/n.
'Marguerite'
She was playing with the lace, this isn't the right place for a nine year old to be. Outside were a plethora of media and press, ready to capture the drivers attending the funeral, Jules' coffin or Y/n Bianchi. There was little to no pity for the young girl on this hard for her from the media or press.
"Charlie?" Y/n's small and unsure voice pulled his attention to her. "Who are all these people?" Pointing to the many people attending the funeral around the cathedral, Y/n made a face of confusion.
Charles was quick to look around the cathedral. "They are here to pay their respect to papa...just like us" He took a deep breath, trying to keep composure for the nine year old. "Papa is a very loved and respected man by many"
Y/n knew of the love and respect her father had, but still couldn't understand that. "But they didn't know him like we do?" It was true, these people don't know Jules like his daughter and godson does.
They didn't know that he was doing formula one for Y/n, they didn't know that he was both terrified and proud of Charles for following in his path. They didn't know this stuff, personal stuff.
The Monégasque loved how observant she was, he loved that she could seperate personal love and platonic love. "That's why you don't need to give them anything today, just focus on loving and saying goodbye to papa..." Nodding her head, Y/n listened to Charles' request.
"Focus on papa..."
-
2023
After Jules' death, Charles' practically adopted his daughter. Only a couple months after the funeral, Y/n moved in with Charles. He became her legal guardian.
Y/n, now seventeen years old, was sat at a lunch table with Alex, Charles' current girlfriend and Rebecca, Carlos' current girlfriend. On any race weekend, she would attach herself mostly to the two girls and looked up to them a lot .
"So babes any more news on that boy, what was his name? Tom?" Alex asked curiously. With Charles being Y/n's legal guardian, Alex would take on the role of big sister and would give anything to talk about the seventeen years olds love life.
"Oh my god yeah! Has it moved any more from the dms?" Rebecca would chime in, she was also a great lover of listening about Y/n's love life.
"Well..." Y/n dragged this bit out, seeing how anticipated the two older women were getting. "We've been on a few dates, Charlie doesn't know though"
Both Alex and Rebecca were quick to gasp, drawing the attention of those around them before snickering slightly. "Oh and when I asked what we were, he said that I'm his and he's mine!"
All three females were grinning at that last piece of information and Alex was about to say something when the two ferrari boys had made their arrival at the table. Both dressed in the racing suits, red head to toe.
"What we talking about ladies?" Charles asked excitedly, giving Alex a quick peck on the lips before checking on his adopted sister who was trying her hardest not to laugh.
"Oh nothing! Just asking Y/n how she's finding college at the moment..." The oldest of the ladies, Rebecca, spoke up and quickly covered up their previous conversation with a lie.
Y/n let out a nervous laugh, glad that Rebecca had managed to cover it all up. "Yeah, it um...great at the moment, love it"
She was about to say something else but Charles was quick and swift to step in and essential boost about the girls success in college. "Better than great! Marguerite is at the top of her class, studying media and communication!"
'Marguerite'
It warmed Y/n's heart to know that Charles had carried on her papas legacy.
"Oh wow! Go on Y/n!" The tall spanard celebrated, clearing proud of her success much like his teammate. "Top of the class! You really are a smart lady, you gonna conquer the world!"
The whole table laughed at Carlos’ enthusiasm to praise the seventeen year olds success in her studies.
-
It was two am in the morning, Charles and Alex were asleep in their room however the teenager was not.
No, she was pulling on her Jordans. Wearing a white and baby pink tracksuit, Y/n grabbed her phone before quickly and quietly rushing to the front door of the apartment.
She was going to hang out at Toms house, yet Charles still didn’t know. Also the Monégasque had a curfew for Y/n, two am was much past that curfew by now.
Y/n went to unlock the apartment door but when she accidentally dropped her keys on the hardwood floors, she panicked. The walls are paper thin.
Of course this meant that she had woken up Charles and Alex. “Fuck!” Y/n quietly cursed herself for ruining her plan.
As she went to pick up the keys, the hallway light flickered on. “Y/n? What are you doing up?” It was Charles. “And dressed?”
“C-Charlie…hi” He gave her a confused expression, clearly not oblivious to her nervousness.
“Y/n what’s going on?” Charles asked again, more firm now.
“I um…nothing” Y/n replied to his question horribly, it was evident that she was lying. He held a intimidating glance over the girl, prompting her to open up and spill. “I was sneaking out! I’m sorry Charlie!” She pleaded.
“Where to? A party?”
“No…um my boyfriends house…” She knew it would come out eventually so it was better to rip off the bandaid and fast.
Silence filled the hallway, Charles looked shocked and unsure of how to react whilst Y/n felt ashamed and anxious.
Another voice filled the air, Alex. “How about we all go to bed, yeah? Talk about this in the morning” She waited for the two to nod, Y/n much quicker than Charles but he did still nod. “Y/n, I suggest you text Tom and tell him you can’t come over”
“Okay…” Charles look even more shocked and angry when he realised that Alex must of known about this the whole time.
-
Waking up the next morning, Y/n could hear distant voices from the kitchen. Getting out of bed and making her way to the kitchen, the voices became more identifiable.
There were four, all with various accents. Monégasque, Spanish, British and finally Dutch. That could mean only four people.
As she walked into the kitchen dining room, it was confirmed to Y/n that she had Charles, Carlos, Lando and Max there, all seemingly waiting for her.
"Morning..." It hadn't seemed to click in her mind as to why they were all there staring at her disapprovingly.
It was only when she realised that Alex was not there and the usual bubbily behaviour the men would have was no where to be seen that the penny dropped. "Oh..."
"You wanna tell the guys whats happened?" The sarcastic tone Charles had set the tone for the rest of the conversation. Plus it was bullshit. The Monégasque would have already told them the whole story, it was evident on their faces.
"Go on Y/n, do tell..." The third time world champion pushed.
Looking down, Y/n had now instantly found her acrylic nalls very interesting. "I was sneaking out...and Charles caught me..." The seventeen year old mumbled.
"Where were you sneaking out to?"
"My boyfriends place..." The girl finally looked up and was met once again with disappointed facial expressions. "I'm sorry, I know you like me dating but he's a really sweet guy..." Y/n tried to reason with them but before anyone else could say anything, there was a knock on the front door.
"I'll get it and you." Charles got up from his seat, pointing to Y/n. "You are still not off the hook." He was quick to make his way to the front door whilst Carlos, Max and Lando spoke to Y/n a little bit more, slightly softer now.
However, their conversation was cut short rather quickly when they heard Charles shout. "You got to be fucking kidding me!"
Turns out Tom had decided to come over, expecting only Y/n to be home. So now he was being dragged into the kitchen dining room by his shirts neck line. "Carlos, Max and Lando meet the boyfriend. Go on introduce yourself."
Tom and Y/n locked eyes, his more panicked and hers more guilty. "Charlie come on, let him go! He hasn't done anything wrong!" The twenty six year old did thankfully listen to her, but dropped the boy to the ground in the process.
“Except violate our Marguerites innocent mind” Lando snapped back, truly believing that Y/n’s mind was completely innocent.
The young boys hands went up in defence, smirking slightly. He knew that Y/n was far from innocent. “Oh don’t smirk!” The Spaniard caught Toms smirk, and was not happy about it.
It was Maxs turn to speak again. “Okay okay, right Y/n and Tom sit down on the couch” He demanded.
Listening to the Dutch man, the two seventeen year olds were quick to sit down on the couch. Toms hand unconsciously moved to rest on Y/n’s thigh but drew back to his own lap when he felt the sharp glare from all four of the drivers.
“You explain yourself” Max pointed toward the female.
“Me and Tom met through a mutual friend, we’ve been on a few dates and I love him” A deep crimson blush covered her cheeks. Giggling softly.
It was hard for the drivers to stay annoyed at Tom, they could see how happy this one boy made her.
Happiness is all Charles ever wanted for Y/n especially after losing her father. Happiness was something the Monégasque always deeply prioritised whilst raising his little sister.
“He makes me happy…Charlie please”
That same deep blush covered Toms cheeks, he was still a young and awkward teen. “Oh I didn’t know that…you love me?”
They were like love sick puppies, anyone could tell even if they were blind or deaf. “Yeah of course I do…”
This stumped Charles, Max, Lando and Carlos. They wanted to be angry at Tom but they simply couldn’t. Why? Because it was obvious how happy and loved Y/n felt with Tom.
“Putain!” Cursed Charles. How is he meant to be angry now? “You know, you are really making it hard for us to be angry at you”
Lando nodded in agreement. “Yeah fuck you for that guys”
A smirk cracked through Y/n’s rosey cheeks, well aware of what was happening. She knew full well that they weren’t annoyed at them anymore.
“So does this mean that you approve?” As soon as Y/n asked the question, Tom became confident once again and moved his hand back to her thigh, caressing it slightly.
All the older men just groaned, knowing that they’d just have to endure with the relationship. It was gonna happen eventually, Charles just wished it didn’t come round so soon. “Yes fine, just keep it pg thirteen around us please”
Nodding excitedly, Y/n happily jumped up from the couch before wrapping her arms around Charles hugging him tightly. “Thank you thank you thank you!”
This made him reminisce on when Y/n was younger, hugging was on of her favourite things to, especially with Jules.
Whilst the brother and sister hugged tightly, Tom with his new found confidence also got up. Shaking the hands of the three other drivers.
“You protect her, you hear me.” Carlos warned. Tom was quick in nodding, not wanting to cause any more bad impressions.
And in those moments where Y/ns relationship with Tom could come free, letting them love each other openly and without fear, both Charles and Y/n could feel Jules’ presence.
They could feel how he was looking down on them, protecting them, loving them and being their guardian angel.
Watching over his dear godson and his Marguerite.
Marguerite
-
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hurtspideyparker · 1 month
Text
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One night in the lab Peter finds an old prototype of the EDITH glasses and puts them on.
"Look Mr. Stark! I am Iron Man," he says with a deep voice.
"C'mon kid, that's the best impression you got?" Tony says before looking up.
He sees Peter with those rectangular frames and big grin. For a moment he thinks he's looking at old publicity photos of himself. A confident Tony Stark, tinted glasses and cocky smile, hair fluffed up and oozing manly charm.
Tony's easy smile drops a bit at the thought of Peter being anything like who he used to be.
"Oh sorry for talking over you Ms. Potts I just like the sound of my own voice more than hearing about the safety of our company. I'm too cool to apologize so I'll buy you a zoo for endangered species later honey," Peter tries again with the mocking deep voice.
Tony is quick to recover from the odd deja-vu feeling of seeing the teenager in the frame of a mirror, focusing back on his hologram.
"Yeah because I call the love of my life by her last name. And for your information it was an alpaca sanctuary, and she loved it." Tony corrects, pointing a pen at Peter in rebuke without looking up from his work.
"I chose to be respectful over accurate. Also I saw those alpaca photos and one of them was trying to chew on her skirt, she didn't look very impressed." Peter replies with a matter of fact press of his lips.
Tony glances back at the boy only to find himself unable to look away. He can't help but hear echoes of "I just wanted to be like you!" when he sees the boy wearing frames reminiscent of Tony's classic fashion sense.
Tony thinks about Howard, how he used to run laps to prove he was good enough, better than, worthy of being his son.
He was never enough for Howard.
"You're always better at remembering that kind of stuff than me anyways kid."
Peter is taken back by the earnest tone the older man suddenly possesses. His mouth opens but no words come out in reply, Tony looking at him as if he can see right through the spiderling.
"Now stop playing with my old crap and c'mere, we have some important decisions to make," Tony waves him over to look at something on his phone.
When Peter gets close enough he sees that it's a food delivery app, Tony's fingers hovering between an Indian and Thai restaurant.
Peter shoots him another grin, "I vote for samosas!"
Tony rolls his eyes but clicks on the Indian restaurant anyways.
Peter notices in the reflection of the phone that he still has the glasses on, reaching up to remove them before Tony puts a hand on his wrist to stop him.
"Keep em on, it's the first time you've ever looked cool enough to hang out with me. The tech in those is useless anyways, they're just a pair of sunglasses now."
Peter looks up at his mentor with such awe and admiration that Tony nearly melts like butter under the sun.
Tony may not do many things right when it comes to people, but he knows that even when he was still young and naive he'd known better than to ever look at Howard like that.
So maybe there's one thing he hasn't screwed up.
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estrellami-1 · 1 year
Text
Falling
(ao3 link)
Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️
It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.
The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.
So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.
He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.
He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.
How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.
Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.
Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.
Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.
When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.
Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.
He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”
Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”
“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.
Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”
“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”
Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”
Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”
Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”
For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.
Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.
“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”
Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”
“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”
Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”
Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.
“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.
Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”
Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.
Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.
When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.
Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.
So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.
One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.
Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.
Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”
Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”
“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”
Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”
Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”
“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”
Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”
“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.
Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.
Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.
He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.
So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.
Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.
“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”
Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”
Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”
Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”
“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.
“Body of a Greek god?”
“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”
Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.
This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agrees.
It happens again a week later.
Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.
There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”
Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”
“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”
“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”
Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”
“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”
“Please.”
“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”
Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.
Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”
Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.
Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”
Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”
Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”
He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”
“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”
“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”
Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”
He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”
“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”
Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”
“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”
Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”
Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.
Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”
“Sunshine boy?”
Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”
Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”
“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”
“And theater.”
“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”
Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”
Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”
“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”
“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”
“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.
Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”
“Stay? After?”
“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”
After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.
Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”
Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”
Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”
Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”
Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”
“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”
Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”
Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”
“It might take a while.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“I might never fully believe it.”
“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.
“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”
“Uh. Maybe?”
Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”
Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”
“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.
“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.
“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”
Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”
Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”
“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.
“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”
He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”
“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”
Steve hums. “Dionysus.”
“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.
Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.
“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.
“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”
“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”
Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”
Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”
Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”
“And if I said make me…”
Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.
He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.
“Just about.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.
“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”
Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”
“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”
“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”
“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”
“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.
He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.
He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.
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confessedlyfannish · 6 months
Text
DP x DC Writing Prompt #9
"Are you sure about this?" J'onn asks, reading the discontent amongst the Kents. Clark and Lois each have a hand on their teenage son's shoulders, who several weeks prior was aged ten years old.
"We're sure," Clark says. He is not, nor is his wife. But his son is, who lays his hand on his mother's and squeezes. It is that surety that J'onn honors as he delves into the young (but not as young as he should be) man's mind.
The memories are hard to find but not gone, hidden behind what Jon can only see manifested as a glowing green wall. When he raises a tentative hand, the shield sparks green, but does no harm. Pushing through is like wading through the consistency of jello, which he finds an overall unpleasant experience. But he is unharmed as he passes through.
Before J'onn can sort through the memories he is all but sucked into the one at the forefront, where a Jon most similar in visage to the one recently returned perches on the edge of a building. Beside him lies a burger, partially unwrapped though uneaten, and a small soda.
As the memory builds out a sun sets on a small suburban town, and a muscled thigh knocks into Jon's, an older man with a shock of white hair and eyes the same light and color as the shield formed around these memories appearing. He's tall even sitting, likely about as tall as Superman, and looks to be in his thirties. A full body suit comprised of black and silver accents stretches across broad shoulders, a stylized D on his chest. He knocks his thigh into Jon's again.
"You said I couldn't go back," Jon says quietly.
"I lied," the man says lightly.
"You're lying now," Jon says, glaring at him. "I can hear your heart."
"Nice try, kiddo, I don't have a heart in this form," the man says, reaching a hand out, presumably to ruffle his hair. Jon dodges.
"I know you're lying. You would've told me. You would've helped me get home."
"Jon--"
"You're protecting Clockwork, aren't you?" Jon demands, eyes beginning to burn red. "That old coot decided it wasn't enough to play with you, he had to play with me too."
The man slaps a hand over Jon's eyes. "Breathe, like we practiced," he instructs firmly. Steam rises from where his palm meets Jon's eyes, but if it hurts he shows no indication. "In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3."
Jon whimpers but heaves a breath, and the burst of red light dies down from between the man's fingers. His hand moves down to Jon's shoulder.
"I can't pretend to understand Clockwork's decisions," the man says, as tears begin to pool in Jon's eyes. "Frankly, I don't want to. I suspect they are hard decisions to make, sometimes."
"I don't get why you defend him," Jon says. "Dumbledore acting bastard."
"Language," the man says, lightly bopping him on the head. J'onn notes the boy actually winces, as if the blow hurts.
"I am upset with him, I hope you know that," the man continues. "But at the end of the day I'm also grateful. Because I got to meet you." He hooks an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him in. "And now you'll get to see your family again. And Sally, Arnold, and Damian!"
Jon sniffles, rubbing roughly at his face. He leans into the man's bicep. A trusted adult figure, then. One he's described his life to. A life, J'onn is sad to note, he appears to have lived for the past six years, as opposed to a sudden shift in appearance. Jon's next question all but confirm it: "Can I really go back? It's been so long. They'll be all grown up."
"Hey, of course you can," the man says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sure they've missed you so much. They'll be so happy to see you again."
Jon starts to smile. "I'm going home."
"You're going home!" The man laughs, shaking him.
"I can finally eat some decent barbecue again!"
"Hey!" the man protests, "The smoker blew up one time!"
Jon continues, beginning to get excited. "And Ma will make her jalapeño cornbread! I never could get it right, I can't wait for you to try it!"
J'onn notes the older man's smile fading, eyes growing sad.
"And Damian will definitely want to spar and oh, oh! With you on our side we can totally prank Batman! I bet Alfred will even help! And Mom gives the best hugs, Pops comes really close but Mom will be really excited to meet you, everyone will."
"Jon," The man says.
"I knew you'd be worried about it, but they'll want to meet you," Jon says, clocking his expression. "They'll be grateful. You, you helped me. You kept me safe and taught me how to be Superman. They'll love you, I promise."
"Jon, I can't go with you," the man says gently.
"I'm not saying you stay, but you can visit! I'm sure the Justice League can figure out a way to maintain a portal, they're super used to all that multiverse stuff. Once they have the coordinates, you can stop by whenever!"
"I can't go through the portal, Jon," the man says. "To other worlds, I'm a god. And gods can't interfere. The only reason I can continue to live here is because this is the world of my origin."
Jon gapes at him. "But--but,"
"You're going to see your Mom and Dad again," the man says. "And your brother, and grandparents."
"I can come here, then," Jon says desperately, pushing his way out of the man's arms. The man is already shaking his head. "I can!"
"You can't."
"Why, because Clockwork says so? He's a liar!"
"Because multiverse travel is never a good idea. If you got trapped here again--"
"I wouldn't,"
"You belong with your family,"
"You're my family!" Jon cries. The man freezes. "You, and Sam, and Jazz, and Tucker and Val and Ellie and Pops and Mads, you're all my family! I can't just leave you, I won't!"
"Oh kiddo," The man says, eyes wet. "I love you too. We all do."
"So I'll stay," Jon says decisively. "For all we know my world is a wasteland. Gramps wasn't exactly right in the head when I left. It's better to stay here."
J'onn notes a green vine unwinding from a nearby trellis. It slides down the eave towards the pair.
"You don't mean that," the man is saying.
"I'm sixteen. I can make my own decisions. I'm staying."
The man cups Jon's face. "Your parents did not have a choice in losing you. I'm willing to bet they're devastated. Because I'd be devastated, losing a kid as great as you."
"Maybe they're not even there," Jon says, but the words are half-hearted, and it clearly hurts him to say them.
"I know I seem like a pushover, but if I thought Clockwork was sending you back to anything less than your loving family, I'd destroy him first. And he knows that. They're going to be there, I promise."
"I don't want to go," Jon says. Behind him, the vine rises from the eave of its own will, poised like a cobra enchanted by a snark charmer.
"I know," the man says, eyes drifting to the vine. "I'm so sorry, Jon."
"For what?" Jon asks, as the vine attaches itself to the nape of his neck. His eyes roll back as he collapses into the man's arms. The man hugs him tighter than is strictly necessary.
J'onn expects the memory to now end, alongside Jon's consciousness. To his curiosity, it does not.
"For what it's worth," a young woman spits bitterly, vines supporting her weight as she slips over the side of the roof. "I still think this is horrible." Her eyes are red and miserable.
"Seriously, team punching Dumbledore in the face," A young black man says, appearing in the air supported by a woman almost identical in appearance to the man holding Jon, down to the suit colors. They land on the rooftop.
"Are you sure about this," the dark haired woman with powers over plants asks. "Because to be honest, Danny, I'm five seconds away from punching you in the face."
"Jazz won't speak to you for months," the girl, likely his sister, points out.
"Make it a year," the man says, crossing his arms.
The man, Danny, ignores them all. He cards a hand through Jon's hair. "He'll retain the experience, but not the memories?"
"Yes, he'll be a perfect little superhero, just as you taught him," the woman says, vines twisting agitatedly around her, wrapping around her thigh, wrists and neck almost punishingly.
"Sam," the man says. "He needs to go home. All of you know that."
"He doesn't have to forget us to do so!" the sister bursts, eyes flashing green.
"Remembering would be a torment," Danny says. "He'll know he was loved. That's enough."
"Danny," the plant woman says, sitting beside them both. She puts a gentle hand on his, both on Jon's back. "This is just a different torment."
"And if someone finds out?" Danny asks. He has been patient amidst their scorn, but now a tiny edge ekes into his voice. "A god's child, unprotected? Threatened? He would never stop looking for a way back, and being vocal about it could get him killed."
The others are silent.
"He'll be home. He'll be happy," Danny says. More powerful than a prayer. A directive. He raises his head past the child slumbering in his lap, past them all, face hardening, and says to J'onn: "And you will say nothing."
J'onn takes a step back, fear so thick he could choke on it flooding his very being. Thismanwillkillhim, thismanwillkillhim.
This man will reach through dimensions and kill him.
"Now, get the fuck out of my kid's head," Danny snarls. J'onn is pushed back with enough force he enters his own mind in a vicious whirl that leaves him physically on the floor, gasping.
"I'm sorry," he says as Superman rushes to lift him, and he's not sure who he's apologizing to. Green eyes will pierce his dreams. Vines will crush his throat in his nightmares, screaming silence, silence.
You will say nothing.
"I'm sorry," J'onn says, politely pushing Clark's hands away as he rises. He's already beginning to calm, because he understands. Those are consequences he will not face. He will do as directed. He looks at Jon Kent, bewildered but unharmed, clutching his mother's hand.
J'onn reaches down and dusts at his pants. "I'm sorry," he says evenly, ready to spin his tale. Perhaps the Kents will continue to seek their answers. Perhaps not. He will stay out of it either way. He has been warned.
You were loved by gods. And to keep you safe, they would quiet us all.
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