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romanoffsbish · 3 months

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Sex on the Beach

Wanda Maximoff x F!R (College AU)

Natasha x F!R x Yelena (found family)

Warnings: Alcohol | Possessive / Jealous Wanda | Mutual Pining | Shy / Awkward R | Natasha is a little shit 💕

Smut: Awkward/Sweet 1st time (Dialogue Breaks) | Mommy (W) | Thigh-Riding / Strap / Oral (R) | Marking | Oral (W)

With Natasha’s lover deployed for the holiday’s she takes an interest in her best friend’s pathetic love life. | WC: 8,676

Request

"Natasha, I swear to god I will never forgive you," you whined, hands clutching desperately onto your best friend's crossed arms, but she wasn't phased one bit.

That much was clear as she slowly rolled her eyes, "There are eight rooms, and eleven of us Y/N, there's no way around it. Val and Carol are sharing, I'm the one grouped up with Lena, so suck it up buttercup."

"I can bunk with Bucky!" Natasha laughed, "Yeah, and then when Steve sneaks in what will you do? Pretend to be asleep while they fuck like it's the closet, again?"

You quite frankly didn't mind such vile behavior. Anything seemed better to you than the alternative.

——

"Love is love," you used the mantra as a plead and the redhead nearly keeled over. "Nice..." You grinned then, with a doomed sense of glee. "Still not happening."

"Then why don't you make them bunk together?"

"Because they'd know we know, and it is rude to force people out of their clear glass closets Y/N/N." You simply huffed in reply, and pushed her slightly as you released your former death grip on her. Natasha smiled softly this time, but she refused to change her mind. It was her job as your best friend to push you in the right direction, even if you couldn't see the bigger picture just yet. "Hey! At least Wanda doesn't snore."

You knew from experience Natasha was making the biggest sacrifice of all with Yelena, but quite frankly you didn't care. Right now you are feeling spiteful.

Natasha cackled at the middle finger you threw her way, but it was more so because you tripped as you spun to get away from her. You never hit the ground though as two dainty, albeit mighty hands caught you.

Wanda's eyes had lit up, her nose scrunched as her lips raised joyfully. Natasha could see the hearts circling. So, the redhead took her cue to go, and that made the brunette even more pleased to have you all to herself.

"Falling for me so soon, kitten?" Wanda teased, her lips curled up into an obnoxiously hot smile as your uncrossing eyes peered up at her, you were paralyzed; unsure if you wanted to kiss her grin away or slap it out of existence. The way she never failed to leave you in a hazy state of mind infuriated you, like yes, she was a gorgeous woman, but did she have to crumble you?!

The answer was also yes, all you offered the girl was a weak thanks for saving you from scraped palms, then you quickly scurried off to the room she'd be in soon.

Just like every time, you didn't look up nor back at her, ensuring you missed her sad eyes and pouty lips. If you wanted her plenty, she wanted you even more. Nobody else interested her quite like you did. Wanda had seen you at a few frat parties before she then forged her way into your friend group through Carol and Valkyrie.

They were all on the same volleyball team, and they hit it off so well that they brought her to a game night. You weren't known for your silence, but when she entered that apartment you suddenly became mute. Natasha teased you for a week about your pathetic gay panic, she even tried to tell you it was a mutual crush, but you refused to believe her; she who would never lie to you, yet you questioned her loyalty, lost in a haze of fear.

Natasha was honestly offended; more so determined.

Which is why she had to resort to begging Tony not to book the bigger place for the winter break kick back you were having. None of you had family, at least not the kind worth visiting, so you celebrated together.

For a change of pace from snow and gloom, the lot of you saved up enough for getting passports and Tony refused to let any of you worry about the rest. Howard was not a good father, or man quite frankly, but his well of guilt money was something Tony appreciated.

The Fijian resort he booked was gorgeous, and resided on a private part of the oceanfront, but was still within walking distance of the communal areas. It might be winter vacation, but you were in a sunny paradise across the world, the palm trees swayed as the brisk breeze brought on by the ocean blew right on by.

It was warm and humid, just as you'd expect in a tropical paradise such as this one. After the awkward moment spent embarrassing yourself with your crush you made sure to not be there when she got to the room. Fortunately for you she was stopped by the long term lovers, Care and Val, so you had just enough time to drop your belongings off before exploring the island.

The island was beautiful and the people were friendly enough to even give you a tour of the not so common spots. It was peaceful talking to strangers, and unlike in the states you didn't feel like you were a bother.

After they'd been so generous with their time you thanked them with lunch before heading back to where your friends were all lazing about indoors. To avoid further embarrassment you settled down in the sand and before you realized it you'd spent hours out there.

Perched under a cluster of trees, lost in a nsfw book, honestly you could've stayed there until the sun had set but your friends never really could let you know peace.

"I'm not going," you immediately denied whomever it was that was sent to collect you. Fearful to see the brunette of your dreams after finally calming down.

"Y/N, you need to stop being such a party pooper!"

You sighed softly, knowing that of course Natasha would send the only other person who doesn't back down when it comes to your antics; a lifetime of friendship tends to come with these pesky advantages.

After a moment of anxious thoughts you sighed again, slid a bookmark between the nearly finished pages then held your hand out for the impatient blonde. Yelena grumbled, "took you long enough, I was getting tired of the pity partying," as she hoisted you up with a force that nearly put you right back on the ground.

"It's not a pity party," you weakly defended in offense but the blonde only cackled as she began to walk off, "Y/N, you are all alone reading a book about sex with longing eyes and a pout, totally unnecessary too since you have someone patiently waiting to rail you..."

"Oh my god, Yelena!" The blonde took off before you could berate her like her mom would, but not without shouting back that Natasha had picked your outfit out for you with express instructions on not deviating.

For a split second you considered dropping back into the you shaped hole in the sand, but you knew Yelena was only a warning. If Natasha came to collect you it would be more embarrassing and it was only day one of the trip, there were still nine left to go so you caved.

Once you got to your room you found it to be empty of the woman you feared being around, but her elegant scent lingered and left you in a state of contemplation.

Would it really be so bad to see if Natasha is right?

Could you really be oversimplifying her kindness?

The more you consider it, the more you see her point. Wanda never missed a chance to talk to you, even in the hallways of the massive university she said hello. You usually nodded your head or squeaked out a hi, which you now hope she didn't take offensively. The last thing you'd ever want would be to offend her.

Then there was the glaring proof of today, when she playfully insinuated you'd fall for her... Either she is just a full time tease or you are an oblivious idiot. Truthfully, it was likely a combination of the two.

Your thoughts of consideration died when you looked down to see clothes that were not from your luggage. Natasha had apparently gone shopping for, not with, you and laid out a swim suit and two overlay options.

There was a strapless, one piece swimsuit, which you were grateful for, but the fabric over the hips was cut out and only barely passed the test of your boundaries. After you slipped into it you were left with a dilemma, wear the sheer swim slip or the form fitting dress.

"Good choice," a raspy voice called, you didn't even flinch, part of you expecting the woman to be keeping an eye on you just in case you tried to bail. Natasha chuckled, "at least this time you aren't falling," as you'd flipped the redhead off once more, this time without turning to face her as you were getting dressed.

"Or was that on purpose?" Natasha teased, "Letting Wanda save you—the pretty damsel in distress."

"I hate you," you grumbled as you turned to glare at her. Natasha negated your phrase as her hands moved to pat down the fly away hairs ruined by the fabric sliding over your head, then she smiled proudly. "You sure clean up well when you are properly supervised."

"Now, now... None of that," Natasha scolded as you flopped back onto your mattress in a defiant manner, huffing angrily in Russian to get the point across. "You are getting better, the lessons with mama are working."

"Da," you smiled fondly thinking of Melina, who was one of the only of your friend's parents you liked. The woman presents outwardly as cold, but it's not true. You knew what cold was, you'd grown up with it and so the Russian's house was like a home away from hell.

When Melina said, "How's my baby girl been?" last year while moving to hug you first instead of Nat or Lena you nearly sobbed all over the woman's blouse. But with a petty quip from Lena, "what are we then? Just her daughters?" followed by a jab to her ribs from Natasha who smiled at you, the urge to break down was gone and you kept it together to celebrate.

This year their mom had gone back home, they were going to go along but she was adamant they focused on their friendships and hopefully partners soon. Yelena wasn't as hopeless as you, but Kate unfortunately was.

Nat had Maria—who was deployed for the holidays, and it was then that you realized her focusing on your love life was for her distraction and her mom's joy.

"Stop having googly eyes for my mom," she gagged, "Save them for Wanda." You stood up and pulled your friend's face into your hands, expression far too serious for the redhead to believe you were in distress. "We didn't want to tell you girls yet, but Melina and I are..."

"Don't you finish that sentence you disgusting freak!"

Natasha ripped her face from your hands so she could escape the torture that was your devilish humor. Just as she reached the door she turned to you with a fixed glare as you were wiping away humored tears. "What?"

"Stop standing there like an idiot and follow me Y/N."

You followed the redhead silently, but with a scowl so that she knew you didn't align with her view of you. The walk to the private cabana was silent, but soon the booming voices of your friends surrounded you as they practically cheered. "You two are behind on shots!"

Tony wasted no time after alerting you to the 'dilemma' before he was handing you two full to the brim with what you knew to be the most expensive vodka. The drops lost down your chin probably worth more than the beat up Camry that you drove around back home.

After the burn in your throat faded you stepped into the circle and clashed a third shot into your friends before the lot of you tossed them back with glee. You could feel your mind and body loosening up, it was a relief honestly but then you caught sight of the deep, vivacious green eyes that were raking over your body.

In turn, you followed suit and were not disappointed. Natasha dressed you more provocatively but Wanda looked like she was interested in a casual evening. The brunette didn't need the skimpy dress or makeup to attract the attention of others, at least not with you.

Currently, she was wearing a nude bikini, the top noticeable behind the lengthy patterned cover up. Yet it still turned your mind to mush without the flair and left you to ponder if you were ready to make a move.

Your eyes continued to shamelessly wander her body, a side effect of the strong booze you supposed. There was a thin gold chain that worked like a choker around her neck, with another chain that dangled down the front and drew your attention to the valley of her chest as it only stopped just above her navel. It took everything in you not to gawk at her breasts, so you trailed your eyes back up to find her staring at you, eyes full of tease.

You definitely knew then you weren't ready, the closest you came was to send her an easy smile and Wanda sent back a more enthusiastic one because to her that was still progress. If she played her cards right this trip and thanked the godsend that is Natasha for forcing proximity she might just leave Fiji with you on her hip.

Natasha sent you a soft glare when you excused yourself to the ladies room, where after using the restroom you decided you'd build your courage up a bit more before you would even try to start a conversation.

That's how you found yourself patiently waiting your turn at the bar, sitting sideways on the stool as you fondly watched your friends from afar with a smile.

"Sex on the beach!" Yes, most definitely you thought while giving Wanda another look over. Then you were brought back to reality when the bartender tapped your shoulder. Your body shook with fright, but you regained your composure as you shifted. Kelani, the bartender, smirked as you cocked your head to the side in question. "Courtesy of the lady at the end of the bar." You gulped, clearing your throat to thank the woman then turned to see Natasha in a cloak. The redhead winked, then slinked away to the restroom.

It seemed the persistent woman had a death wish, because if you didn't get to her first, Wanda might.

Unfortunately, you were whisked away before you could reach your shit head of a best friend, who you figured was planning something all day long. Shit head was beginning to seem like an understatement when you felt a body pressing yours into the side of a door.

How the hell did you get inside so quickly?

Wanda was fuming, she was no stranger to a one night stand, and there was no way in hell she'd let you follow the dead woman walking there. It actually hurt her to see you making your way through the crowd to do so.

Was the smile you sent her in vain? Were you merely trying your hand at letting the woman down easy?

There was no part of Wanda willing to accept that, even if you were free to mingle with whomever. She couldn't let you try before you gave her a chance, so she pulled you away from the public, prying eyes of the locals so that she could try her luck one final time.

A light flickered on and you saw your belongings, then you saw a tumultuous sea of green staring down at you, she looked hurt and that made your heart ache and mind nervous. "Wh-what was that W-wanda?"

"What were you doing following that woman Y/N?" She decided to answer your question with one of her own instead, and slowly tilted her head to the side. It felt like you were in trouble, so you remained quiet and it nearly infuriated her but then she saw your gaze.

It was soft, inquisitive in nature, but moreover dilated.

Something deeper than lust swirled; annoyance, and that's when she got the answer. Wanda already had her suspicion of who it was, and she silently thanked her before readjusting her position as well as her words.

"You don't have to be so shy around me, you know?" You did know, but the bashfulness wasn't something you controlled around the goddess, much like your mouth when tipsy, "I know, but like—I can't help but to be turned on by the sight of you."

Well, so much for remaining bashful, Wanda's cheeks warmed before your very eyes, but you missed it as you closed them due to embarrassment. It was taking all of her willpower not to give you what you were both in need of. You were far too special for a quickie, she fully intended to take her time with you, "You know, how about a little fun before we go to bed?"

"F-fun?" Wanda's eyes fell to catch the trepidation of your throat, it bobbed out, almost unnaturally. You both knew there was no going back as her knee slid between your thighs to press into your wet swimsuit.

An airy chuckle left her as you whined, the woman knew for damn sure you'd barely made it to the bar so there was no way you'd taken a dive in the water first.

"Yes honey," she purred as she leaned in closer, "fun," her nose nuzzled against yours and her hot breaths mixed with your own. "Seems you're more than ready, so unless you want to object I'm going to kiss you.

"I-I," your voice trembled as your eyes watered and she lessened the pressure of her knee against your core, a sense of fear in her soul that she'd been too forward.

Wanda softly pressed, "What is it sweetheart?"

"I don't do one night stands," you squeaked out rather pitifully before finding some confidence. "I don't find anything wrong with the notion but it's not for me."

Wanda internally beamed, not only would you not have left that bar with a stranger tonight, but you were able to set a clear boundary; she not only respected it but she agreed with you. Wherever the night takes you two it would never be a once off for the brunette, who unbeknownst to you, was a total hopeless romantic.

Wanda responded softly, her tone free of pressure, "We don't have to sleep together Y/N, we can just lay down and get to know each other better if you aren't ready."

Her nose firmly pressed into yours as she continued, not leaving you a chance to reply before she laid it all out on the table. "I need you to know that as much as I crave you honey, it's not just your body, contrarily what I want most is for your heart to be mine."

With a confidence Wanda had yet to detect you gently pushed her back, initially her heart quivered at the thought of your incoming rejection, but it never came. Instead, you smiled a bit more bravely and pulled the outer layer you'd worn off to reveal just the one-piece.

"If you are being genuine, Wanda, then all I ask is that you take it slow please. I'm not the best at all of this..."

Wanda grinned, her hands quickly found purchase on your waist, unexpectedly rough thumbs ran over the bare skin and caused goosebumps to lay in their wake. Reminding you of the punk band she plays in with her brother and Clint on the weeknights at local bars. A small smile adorned your face, you began to get lost in the memory of the one time you watched them live.

Wanda tilted her head. "What did I lose you to, hm?"

You chuckled softly, "A memory of you performing."

"Oh," she sounded genuinely surprised, and that was because she never knew you'd gone to a show. A part of her was honestly embarrassed, but she covered it up with a tease, "If you were there, then why did I never see you amongst the groupies..." You rolled your eyes and she giggled, the follow up look in your blown out eyes told her she was taking too long to fuck you.

So the woman simply took a second to breathe in the moment, her head leaned back as she smiled broadly up at the ceiling from merely feeling you. "Wanda..."

Her soft, warm lips brushed over yours, cutting off your expected pleading, but she refrained from kissing you just yet. "Want mommy to take control detka?"

A deep, sensual chuckle sounded off the walls as you whimpered and pressed yourself into her. "Please."

The brunette slid her hands up, caressing your sides as her lips gently pecked your cheek, then they crossed over one another as she wrapped you in her embrace. Both of you stood there in silence, breaths mixing but neither of you moved to rid your life of the gap. Time stood still alongside you both until Wanda got her own nerves under control so that she could perform well.

"Is sex before a first date alright with you," she teased with inflection, but her eyes were genuinely inquisitive.

The silence paired with your adorable pout urged her to go on. With a heavy sigh, she did just that. "I ask, again, because once I kiss you Y/N, I don't know how quickly I will be able to stop myself. You just, you make me feel out of control detka, so just please be sure."

The look in her eyes was palpable, lust swirled and you felt a pulse of need between your thighs. You whined, "Mommy please," body too desperate for her attention for you to worry about the embarrassment anymore.

Wanda simply hummed, her thumbs gently dug into your skin and you obediently met her gentle gaze. You could see she wanted to, the way she gripped your hips even tighter a clear sign, but you could see that she needed more reassurance. "I trust you Wanda."

Wanda nods, smile soft as she finally broke the distance, her lips pressed to yours with an earnest need all while her hands returned to your hips so that she could aide you in getting off on her bare thigh. A part of your hazy mind still wondered when she had even removed her swimsuit cover, but the pleasure you felt from her choices left your mind incapable of thought.

The kiss was initially messy and awkward as the two of you got used to the shared affection, but once a rhythm had been set with her hands on your hips you were able to melt more easily into the lip lock. Your mind began to slip away, and the bubbling anxiety followed.

Eventually though, the pleasure became too much as Wanda swiftly slid your swimsuit to the side, the both of you groaned at the much more intimate feeling. It was suddenly tense, the brunette's lips had moved to kiss all over the skin you'd left exposed all the while her hands never stopped building you to your peak.

"Cum for mommy whenever you like," she purred, almost teasingly as she somehow knew you were close. Part of you wanted to feel embarrassed but you were too deep in pleasure to care that you looked desperate.

You came seconds after she left a mark on your neck, in the little juncture where it met with your shoulder. Wanda bit down harshly as she felt your delightful arousal ooze down her thigh, her own need now rising.

Wanda suddenly pulled away to catch the look of bliss on your face, internally cursing herself for nearly missing it; no way she'd waited all this time to see it just to miss it. Fortunately, she was just in time to watch your mouth fall open, and fuck if you weren't the most alluring beauty the woman had ever seen; a mess

The top of your suit had shifted down some as every time Wanda had roughly moved your body back the oak door would shift the elastic red fabric. A peak at your areoles had her mind positively spinning with the endless possibilities for the ways to have you.

The thoughts overwhelmed her while you slowly returned to a state of calm, your once tightly shut eyes fluttered open to catch sight of Wanda with her lip caught between her teeth as her eyes trailed over you.

You leaned in to kiss her slowly, it almost felt like a thank you and that made Wanda's heart swoon further. It lasted for a few seconds until you felt your lungs beg for the break they needed after your intense climax. In the moment of rest you decided to take a page from her book, and the first thing you did now that her body was nearly bare was to gawk at her perky breasts.

They sat so prettily in the cups of her bikini top and you just wanted to bury yourself in the shallow gap that lay between them. Wanda knowingly smirked, finding the look of awe on your face adorable; she was absolutely certain you'd be drooling on her in no time.

"You can touch me detka," she whispered, lips turned up as she met your eyes, "mommy doesn't mind..."

With a shaky hand you reached behind her, fingers gently laid against the clasp of her bra while your eyes searched hers once more for any hesitation. "Do it."

Her nude bra hit the floor, exposing her breasts to you, and just as you'd dreamed before they were perfect. It had always been your thought that all breasts were, no matter if they were lopsided, or small, nothing ever deterred your adoration for the warm, malleable tissue.

Wanda watched the way your tongue slowly licked over your bruised lips, you were hyper fixated on ogling her, but as her hand slid around your neck you realized she was just as desperate as you were to be touched. The worry you once felt melted away as you nuzzled your face against her breasts, lips grazing over the skin in a way that almost felt like teasing. But the woman knew you were just trying to admire the swell of her chest.

A soft sigh left her when you became more firm as your lips pressed into her heated skin. The brunette allowed you to blindly walk her backwards until she fell onto the bed, pulling your body right down with hers. You were lost somewhere in a haze as you suckled on her breasts, leaving behind marks without a thought to if she'd want that, but her moans quelled that rising fear.

Her back arched as soon as your tongue softly flicked over her pert nipple, there was hardly any hesitation as you swirled your tongue around her areola just before you pulled her nipple between your teeth and tugged. The way you suckled on her bud was almost feverish, a gentle laugh left her over a moan as she found your sudden wave of confidence to be a bit unexpected.

Unfortunately, that made you pull away with a crease between your raised brows. "Um, I-I'm sorry if I..."

Wanda replied by wordlessly pulling you back down, your face now hovering her other nipple, it had yet to receive the marvelous treatment and she desperately wanted you to touch her. "Detka, please continue..."

The woman found herself melting as you complied, her back slowly met with the mattress again as she fell into the comfort of your ministrations. Slowly, her hands began to glide over your bare sides, scratching at the skin as you built her arousal up to something painful.

The need to have you overweighed her desire for you to continue satisfying her. Cold hands soon slid beneath the elastic fabric overlaying your body, her nails slowly trailed faint lines over your skin until she finally cupped your breasts as you continued to suck on hers.

On instinct you ground your pelvis down into hers, a moan left you and reverberated around her nipple as you felt something hard rub against you. Again, you hadn't a clue when she had put a strap on, but in the lust of it all you didn't actually care much. Wanda smirked up at the ceiling at your shock, something you caught as you peered up at her from her chest.

"You know," she sighed rather amusedly, "I've dreamt of this moment for a while now and never once did you end up on the top of mommy like this kitten." You released her breast, ready to beg her to let you stay but instead you gasped as her hands groped your tits with precision, using the grip to flip you onto your back.

In a matter of seconds you regained your bearings and saw the consideration in her eyes as she played with the straps of your swimsuit. Wanda watched you gulp down your anxiety before giving her the go ahead, she wasted no time pushing her hands up and out of the top so that she could pull the offensive piece down.

"Holy shit," she chuckled, clearly a bit shocked as she found not only were your nipples pierced but so was your belly button. "My sweet girl is a secret deviant?"

"I was a rebellious teen," you quietly admitted.

"Nothing to be ashamed about kitten," she reassured you within an instant, she saw you internally prepared to shy away though so she shared her own experience with rebellion. "Actually, believe it or not but mommy was too; used to have her lips and nose pierced."

You believed it easily, she was in a punk band...

"I would've loved to see that," you dream aloud and the gorgeous brunette chuckled as she kissed her way up your body until her lips found a home against yours. "I'm sure Pietro will grace you with the evidence."

You cried out at the realization, "Oh god, Natasha..."

Wanda grimaced, pulling back to glare softly as her head tilted naturally. "No more screaming others names... Actually, how about no more talking at all." You were seconds away from combusting, an apology on the tip of your stuttering tongue. "I-I'm s—oh fuck."

Wanda had quickly shushed your apologies as her svelte fingers slid through your lips, collecting the slick warmth from within as she parted them. Her emeralds shone with pure accomplishment and joy as your eyes closed. "Mhm, mommy prefers those sweet moans."

"Tell me honey," Wanda broke her rule again as her wet fingers lifted up to her moving lips. Her thoughts effectively paused as she tasted you for the first time. Wanda moaned around her digits and sucked them clean before she found herself hovering over you. "Do you think you're wet enough for my cock baby? Or do you need mommy's fingers to stretch you out first?"

The crude question made your heart beat out of time, you felt ready for her strap but the idea of her fingers inside of you sounded so appealing. It was actually your attraction to her hands that told Wanda her crush was far from unrequited. You weren't slick with the way you stared at her during your ceramics elective.

Your mind had faltered too, so your thoughts faded. Her eyes dilated at the sound of your pathetic mewl as the tip of her thick strap nudged at your tight hole. Her fingers pressed the crimson cock to the side so that her fingers could enter you instead. The spit that remained helped to ease her in alongside your decadent slick.

Wanda had already decided for you, and it just so happened that she too had fantasized about just how good you'd feel around her fingers. However, in your mind it would have been at a faster pace, Wanda wanted to take her time and really get to feel you.

Her fingers kept a steady pace until your moans had calmed into occasional mewls, then she slid back in and scissored your walls further apart, a third finger entered you as her thumb began to circle your clit. You had gasped against her face and Wanda felt powerful.

"M-more please," you whimpered hoarsely into her ear, her fingers entered back inside you just as you pleaded further, "Mommy please, let me cum!!" Wanda curled her fingers into your greatest depths and you came with a loud cry as she grunted hotly in your ear.

Her fingers continued to sensually stroke and prod at that rough, yet tender spot within your greatest depths just so she could continue to hear your sweet gasps of a drawn out pleasure. The throb between her own legs was only intensified as you begged for her to stop but also keep going in the same breath as your hips canted.

Wanda whispered something in Sokovian, you'd never know but she was cursing you for being so hypnotizing. No one had ever made her this needy for a release, her hips followed yours so she ripped her fingers from your core. A satisfied hum garbled by her fingers sounded off above as she once again licked her fingers clean.

"I can't wait to taste you from the source kitten," she practically squealed and you found her giddiness to be so intimate with you endearing. Her lips pressed into yours and her velvet smooth tongue slid over yours without so much as a bit of resistance. You sloppily kissed the woman until her strap slid into you halfway.

There was a noticeable burn at the rapid stretch but you whined in disappointment when she pulled out.

To fuck you into the mattress was a dream, sure, but Wanda had other dreams for tonight's fun. "Mommy needs you to ride my cock, pretty girl..." Your eyes had widened but Wanda faced the fear for you by kissing you distracted as her hands flipped your positions.

You landed on top of her with a hmph, and a soft glare as the woman peered down with a smug grin. "I can take it Y/N, you aren't going to hurt me, so hop on."

A shuddered breath left you as you faced the concern head on, lifting your body to hover her raised strap. Wanda nodded and held onto your hip with her free hand as you slowly sunk down. Your walls clenched hard, preventing you from sliding down further so she lifted her now free hand up to stroke your lip on the way up to play with your throbbing bundle. The burn faded into white hot pleasure and soon you bounced; vigorously moving your hips and stealing the air from the woman beneath you's lungs as her clit felt the pleasure every time your bounces provided pressure.

A particular press of the hilt into her clit drew a moan you knew she'd tried to keep buried within her chest. It was so vulnerable and incredibly attractive, so much so that your walls fluttered rapidly around her strap.

"You're close," the brunette grunted with certainty as she began to rock her hips in time to meet your drops, desperate not only for her own release but to see you fall apart above her. "So am I baby, I just—fuck, play with your tits for mommy, please, we'll cum together."

"There you go," she encouraged with a sultry glint in her eyes as her hips unconsciously sped up, her eyes raptly focused in on the way you squished 'em together before moving to pinch your pierced, sensitive nubs.

A guttural moan left the woman when your work paid off, her orgasm sent tingles of pleasure down her spine in a perfect curve. The wave directly ended with the rise of her hips and the subsequent fall of yours. Your pleasure gushed on out of you and drenched Wanda as your upper body lurched forward and her face wound up buried between your breasts that heaved wildly.

There was a sense of satisfaction that charged the air on both of your ends, but it also felt unfinished as you laid on your back, with Wanda's smiling face gazing up at you from between your breasts, a parallel to your earlier, swapped position. "What's on your mind?"

"Am I that obvious," she teased, knowing damn well that her eyes were still desperate for you. Her lips kissed the sides of your breasts as she began her descent, "you know what's coming, so brace yourself."

Even with the clear warning you couldn't help but to moan like a whore and bury your fingers into her hair. Your puffy, overused lips were already so sensitive that the use of her mouth was never needed but she would be damned if she didn't use her tongue to please you.

Wanda preferred to live life on an even keel so she didn't stop when your essence coated her throat, nor when it dripped down her chin or when you pushed her head, desperate for reprieve. No, the carnal need to keep you cumming was enough to keep her munching until you came for the sixth time and yanked her away.

There was no remorse on her glistening face as she peered up at you with a scrunched nose and smiled. "Sorry sweetheart, but you are just so delectable." As expected, you did not reply as you were lost inside your scrambled mind. Wanda perched herself up on her knees and admired your body as it continually jolted. Her hands felt the way that the muscles in your thighs quivered beneath her fingertips from the overexertion.

You'd been fucked into a state near comatose so for now the brunette decided it best to lay beside one another as you recomposed. With an arm slid beneath your waist and her fingers tenderly walking down your body, starting from your face and ending on your hip where she'd swirl her finger into a few shapes before she traced her fingers all the way back to your face.

"Welcome back," she giggled when your eyes cleared as her fingers lightly tapped over your temple. Your eyes narrowed and you huffed softly as you burrowed close. Wanda chuckled as you loudly yawned against the side of her neck then kissed the skin as your lips met. You nudged her until she was flat on her back and suckled, you were tired but also determined to show her a good time. "Honey, we need to clean up and get some rest."

"Please mommy," you croaked sadly, "I want to taste you, just one lick then we can get cleaned up, please."

Fuck. Wanda realized that she couldn't say no to you when you looked so beautiful, eyes glistening under the bright lights of the room with a post orgasmic glow. At the sight of her nod you kissed down her body happily, making sure to bite down on the bruising skin. Her grip on the base of your neck grew reciprocal as you chose to use pain to arouse her further. You already knew her body so well, it was the best feeling ever.

With a loophole in your mind you kiss her lips, soft enough to not collect much slick to constitute a taste but more than enough to make her cry out weakly. Wanda had about half a mind to rip you away for playing her so well but then your tongue stroked up and down her walls, you had found another cheat.

To you, a lick logically only ended when the stroke faltered but much to her shock it hadn't, not even once. Though tired you powered through, plunging your muscle in and out of her without the intention to stop. Once her thighs slammed shut you moved your lips up to her clit and rejoiced as she drenched your chin.

"I'd say you very well know what you're doing," she huffed amusedly as she caught your gaze on her face.

"I'm not even sorry," you giggled as you trailed her slick all over her sweaty torso on your way to her lips. Wanda chuckled hoarsely, "Neither am I kitten."

After the both of you took a second to breathe you stared deeply into the others eyes, Wanda cupped your cheek and scrunched her nose as she, in true sapphic fashion, spoke her premature desires into the world. "Y/N, you are the most beautiful human I've ever had the fortune of knowing. I know we haven't spoken much but I want you to know I feel in my heart that you are the person I'm meant to fall in love with."

You gulped, "like soulmates? You think we are?"

Wanda nodded with a grin. "Most definitely, you are the only one who has ever been allowed to taste me."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull and she laughed boisterously at your shock; you were so cute.

"Are you serious?" Wanda nodded with a much more nervous smile. "So, when you hesitated, it was—."

"I really did want you to rest," she interrupted, "but then I saw the dark look in your eyes. They were so droopy and yet you wanted to please me in return."

"Has no one ever tried?" Wanda bit her lip at the question, it felt intrusive but she knew you meant well so she didn't deflect. "Not really. Just once but it felt wrong. I didn't want them to have the access to me."

You beamed with a sweet shine in your eyes, then you kissed her lips with a tenderness that made her smile. "Thank you for trusting me, and taking such good—."

Wanda cut your praise off with a deeper kiss, you lazily swirled your tongue with hers until she was satisfied.

"Don't ever thank me for doing anything for you," she commanded gently, "you deserve to be worshipped."

"I think we're soulmates too," you finally affirmed her prior notion and she looked at you shocked. She had never intended for you to share a response so soon after her aggressively-launched inquiry. But you did, and it was obviously heartwarming. "You're safe."

Wanda tightened her arms around you and just basked in the after glow of her dream come true for a bit. Then, when she felt you were about to drift off she sprung into action while she left you to take a cat nap.

When she returned to the room she lightly stroked your face until your eyes fluttered open. "I know you're tired love but we need to get cleaned up, come on." In a sleepy haze you accepted her hand and let her do it all. There was no visual recollection but you felt her every light touch and heard the sweet nothings as she took her time cleaning you both up to let your muscles soak.

Eventually you two made it back to bed after sharing a water bottle and a container of fruit and nuts that Wanda had snuck to the kitchen to steal for you both. Now you two were perfectly wrapped up together.

Neither of you were too familiar with love, the both of you having spent most of your adult life single, but it's something you felt budding as you melted into her. The brunette was far too content to sleep, with you on her chest her wildest dream had come true, so she was afraid if her eyes took the risk that you'd be gone. Then she felt your soft breaths, and her own exhaustion rise, her extensive exertion caught up to her quickly. Eyes of green trailed over your form once more before closing.

"Oh god," Yelena's voice cracked as she spoke through the door. "I can smell the nefarious things you did."

Wanda rolled her eyes, there was nothing cruel about the way she just made love to your body, but of course the blonde would make your encounter devilish. For a moment Wanda just ignored her presence, pretending to be asleep but Yelena was just too damn intuitive.

"Wanda Maximoff," she sang tauntingly, "We know you are definitely not sleeping. You are probably too busy staring at Y/N with love-sick puppy dog eyes."

Wanda threw the alarm clock that neither of you would use at the door and groaned when all the blonde did was laugh maniacally "Exactly, you are so whipped."

Her voice was strained, "What do you want Belova?"

"Natasha said she doesn't care if you are mid-fuck, the both of you better get dressed and join the bonfire."

At just the mention of Natasha your head popped up, you glared intensely out the window, Wanda giggled.

"Does someone want revenge?" You groaned and put your face back in the safety of Wanda's neck. The way you grumbled incoherently against her skin only made her laugh harder, the sensation having tickled her.

Then the pressure changed, you were no longer talking but instead you were suckling on her skin, returning the favor of visibly marking her until she moaned.

"Okay," Yelena chuckled nervously, "I do not want to have to hear the sinning, take this visit as a warning."

You rolled your eyes this time, knowing the truth to her words which made you pull away. Wanda could see the reluctance in your expression and it made her melt. To see you were eager for a round two focused on her was enough to make her want to ignore Natasha's threats.

It was never up to her though as you got up, Russian curses directed at redhead nothing short of amusing. Even though you presented as grumpy, the woman knew deep down that the meddling Russian sisters were the closest thing to family that you had. So, you rushing to get dressed wasn't in fear of the redheads daunting arrival, but more so you wanting to see her.

To thank her for the push, which you did moments later after the both of you arrived. You led Wanda to a chair big enough for two and left the brunette with a timid kiss, aware that all your friends were there. Tony went to tease you but was stopped by Wanda's glare.

"I'd rather watch this anyway," he chuckled as he turned away from your terrifying girlfriend. Wanda followed his gaze and couldn't help but to laugh, you were chasing Nat around the rough sand on wobbly legs, which only spurred her taunting on tenfold.

Once you caught up to her you tackled the redhead, nobody could hear you two anymore, but they could see you were mercilessly tickling the woman. After a torturous minute she called uncle and you both stood, her hand shook yours in a truce that relaxed you, but then she smirked and leaned in closer to taunt you.

"You're welcome for the fun," her eyes were swirling with mischief as they fell to the side of your neck. "Who knew the group's favorite nun in training had it in her."

"Bite me," you shot back and her eyes sparkled at the ease of her next tease, "Looks like Wanda already did."

Natasha cackled the whole way back to the group as she jogged to her seat to escape your next attack. It wasn't going to deter you though, sand flew from beneath your feet as you neared the group in a rush.

Two seconds before you could reach her though you felt your body being yanked down by what you believed to be gravity, but then you felt softness beneath you.

Wanda had shamelessly pulled you into her lap, she was sat with her legs crossed, and her eyes bore a playfulness to them alongside a bit of sternness. The entire group watched the way you settled, no words needed to be exchanged as you cuddled into her side. The brunette kissed your forehead, then followed it up with a peck to your nose and a languid one to your lips.

"Wow! The beast has been tamed," Tony cheered, the group of your friends giggled loudly and you frowned.

"Careful how you speak of my girl Tony," Wanda said with a tone that dripped with a warning, her eyes not even moving away from yours as she defended you. The sexual energy that oozed off the the two of you was always there, but the visible marks had never been.

Tony sighed at the direct confirmation, "I vote we remove them from the bet," drawing the both of your attention back to your friends who were anxiously sat.

Your tone was clearly confused, "The bet?"

"Catch up kid," the billionaire shot at you, you were just about to remind him you were older but he just continued on being a douchebag, "It was no secret you and the practicing witch would bone this trip. So, as opportunists we all bet on what night it might happen."

You looked to your family with a glare, "Nat? Lena?"

The sisters shrugged while their outstretched hands were collecting the hundreds. "It was an inevitability Y/N Y/L/N, so we obviously made it profitable."

You flipped the blonde off, then the redhead next. The bulk of your friends chuckled when they saw you try to shy away from their gaze by burrowing into Wanda. Everyone was more than thrilled to see you smile like that, all soft and obviously lovestruck for the woman and the brunette adored that you found comfort in her.

"It's okay detka," Wanda coo'd lovingly into your ear, with one hand on your back to soothe you while the other reached out to accept her cut of the bet money. "I'm sure our friends here will pay for our date..."

Tony gasped, but his rebuttal died on his tongue as your smirking girlfriend tilted her head a fraction to the right, her fingers wiggled and the man would swear for years to come he saw a flash of red spark at the tips.

Wanda smirked at the man before her lips fell into something softer as she regarded your sleeping form. Her gaze slowly drifted up to the pair of sisters to her right who stared at her intently. Natasha smiled at her, and in that moment they came to a silent agreement. All your sister by claim wanted was for you to be happy and taken care of, something Wanda promised with a nod. Natasha easily fell back into conversation after.

Yelena however had a much different approach as she glared at the brunette with all the contempt she had within. "Prichini yey bol', i ty umresh', muchitel'no."

(Hurt her and you die, painfully.)

This time, Natasha didn't jab her sister in the hip and Wanda didn't test her chances, she merely nodded.

——

The following morning came with disorientation on your end as you woke up to the sound of a muted buzz. Your mind was still lightyears behind your ears though so you subconsciously thought it was the yardmen on your campus as per usual. Then you felt a body pressed into your sore one and you remembered. You were halfway across the world, entangled with your crush.

It wasn't a fever dream but a glorious reality...

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to see Wanda asleep, with her lips pursed and nose pressed into your chest, the noise from before now had an official source. You wanted to giggle at her, but you merely rolled your eyes and softly cursed your best friend. "Chertov lzhets."

(Fucking liar...)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #yelena belova

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fredwkong · 4 months

Text

The Voice in Your Head

Graham was excited about moving into his new apartment. It was in a nice part of town, with good transit access to his job, plus it was pretty spacious for the price. Graham could just picture himself, his plants, maybe a boyfriend, all fitting neatly into the apartment, with its nice hardwood floors and retrofit kitchen.

So, he was quite surprised, on moving day, when the neighbour across the hall grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “There’s something weird about that unit,” the guy hissed in a low voice.

“What are you talking about?” Graham frowned. This guy looked totally ordinary in every way, in his button-up shirt and neatly parted hair. There was no way he was some crazy conspiracy nut.

“The guys who live in there,” the guy continued, seeming frantic, “they change. Most of them get spooked and move out in a few weeks. I’ve never seen one last longer than two months. That’s why the rent is so low.”

“Bull.” Graham tugged himself free. “What is this, some kind of weird building hazing or something? What a way to greet a neighbour.”

As he marched away to unlock the door for the movers, Graham felt his new neighbour’s eyes on his back.

Even though he did his best to put the strange conversation out of his mind, Graham kept thinking about the guy’s words as he unpacked for the rest of the day. He had seemed way too sincere for a prank.

At one point, one of the movers gave a sudden shudder and dropped a box full of Graham’s work shirts and coat hangers. “Sorry,” he muttered, blinking away the wild look in his eyes as his coworkers stared, “there was a...smell.” Graham noticed that he was one of the first to leave the apartment to go wait in the moving van once everything was carried in.

Left alone after the movers set up the basics—bed, couch, dining table, desk, TV stand—Graham stood in the kitchen, trying to recapture his excitement for the new apartment. He couldn’t help feeling like the sunlight through the big windows of the living room looked a little watery, like it couldn’t fully enter the space. Even though it was nice and warm inside the apartment, Graham felt strangely clammy, and he couldn’t settle down.

In an attempt to use the restless energy, Graham paced to the bedroom and cut open his boxes of work clothes. He had a pretty ordinary cubicle job, so there was a certain standard of professionalism to meet, but Graham also loved business clothes. Getting dressed for work, for Graham, was like putting on a professional person, like he could pretend to be someone else for 8 hours a day. He had dozens of slim-fit button-ups for his skinny body, perfectly chosen to match his pale skin. Matching sets of slacks and blazers quickly filled the closet.

The action was soothing, and pretty soon Graham was unpacking his loafers. He’d cleaned them before putting them in the box, but he decided to give them a quick polish before putting them on the shoe rack. As he went to get a rag, Graham suddenly thought, I bet those won’t fit for long.

He stopped, halfway to the kitchen. The thought had been so out of character and strange. But, it sounded like his internal voice. It was a weird feeling.

Don’t worry about it.

Graham shook his head and resolved not to worry about it, grabbing the rag and putting his shoes away.

That night, Graham had trouble getting to sleep. It was like he couldn’t get warm, even under all the covers. He tossed and turned until, finally, he drifted off.

It was still dark when his eyes opened. Somewhere around 4 AM. Feeling strangely detached from himself, Graham swung out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

Looking into the mirror in the darkness, Graham found himself stripping out of his silk pyjamas to see his own skinny, pale body. His lips moved, and Graham heard himself mumble, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

As if puppeted by someone else, Graham’s body moved through a series of bodybuilding poses. “There’s potential, though,” he heard himself mumble into the darkness.

He lifted up his arm and stuck his nose into his armpit, frowning. “Don’t worry, dude, you’re in good hands,” Graham’s voice told him. “I’ll go slow so you don’t get spooked.” Then he chuckled to himself. “Heh, spooked.”

The morning sun had Graham blinking awake. He’d had a strange dream, talking to himself in the bathroom. But as he pushed aside the covers, Graham frowned. He was naked, even though he always slept in pyjamas.

The pyjamas were on the bathroom floor, tossed carelessly. Well, Graham thought, maybe he’d overheated…while on the toilet.

Anyway, he’d been too tired to take a shower last night, but he definitely needed one before work today. Graham stepped into the shower and turned the tap, but was disappointed to hear a gurgling somewhere in the pipes. Only a few drops came out.

One more day won’t hurt.

“One more day won’t hurt,” Graham said, vocalising what his inner voice had said. He would email the building manager and get the shower fixed today. In the meantime, he applied a few extra layers of deodorant and fixed his hair as best as he could.

Still, Graham was self-conscious all day. He dreaded any coworker getting close enough to smell him or notice that his skin was a little greasy. By lunch break, he had rehearsed in his head a whole speech about walking to work to explain why he was so gross. It was a relief when the clock hit 5 PM and no one commented.

The repair man was standing outside Graham’s apartment when he got home, and he let them in. Apparently, there was nothing obviously wrong with the shower. It even ran on the repair man’s first try at turning the tap. Still, the man recommended that Graham put aside some tap water in case it kept acting up. At least he could take a sponge bath.

No problem, it’s not an urgent fix.

“No problem, it’s not an urgent fix.” Graham wasn’t sure why he’d said that. It was like someone else had spoken through his lips. It was kind of urgent to have regular showers. But he shook hands with the repair man and smiled as he saw him out. If the shower was just randomly acting up, he’d learn to adapt to it.

The guy across the hall looked out his door while Graham stood there, thinking through the strange thought he’d had. “You okay?” he asked. “Nothing…weird happening in there?”

Nothing to worry about.

“Nothing to worry about.” Graham smiled at his neighbour. Yeah, he was feeling pretty relaxed. With his move done, he really did have nothing to worry about. He was just jittery about his new place. “Graham, by the way.”

“Leo,” said the neighbour, still looking rather nervous. “You sure? Usually, guys go screaming down the hall their first night, yelling about feet and nightmares, like they're being haunted.”

Not this time.

“Not this time.” Maybe Leo really was some kind of conspiracy theorist. Graham still had more unpacking to do. “Nice to meet you.” He closed the door.

First things first, though, Graham wanted to finally get his first shower in his new place. He went and turned the tap.

Nothing.

Graham took a deep breath to calm himself down and went to fill a pot with water from the kitchen sink.

Hahahahaha. Laughter filled his mind. Graham froze in the middle of the kitchen. No matter what, his mental voice laughing at him couldn’t be a good sign, right?

The only thing to do with a problem is laugh.

That logic seemed sound. It wasn’t the way Graham usually dealt with problems, though. He was the kind of guy who tended to panic at the slightest opportunity.

He must be maturing.

Chuckling a bit to himself, Graham went to get his basin of water for a sponge bath.

The sponge baths really weren’t so bad, and by the time the shower started working randomly a few days later, Graham couldn’t find any of his soap or shampoo. He had a vague memory of dreaming that he’d thrown them out, but that was ridiculous. Every time he thought about getting more bathing supplies, he’d have the thought that it was just a lot of effort. He was doing fine with water alone, why complicate it?

One night a week or so after his move, Graham found himself staring at his ceiling late in the night. He must be dreaming again. He felt his lips move. “I think I’m gonna try moving in for real, just a bit. Don’t mind me.”

Suddenly, Graham’s feet went ice cold, and a strange, wet, slippery sensation slid into his feet. They felt…tight, like they were overfull somehow.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a tight fit. Don’t worry, I’ll work you in slowly,” said Graham’s mouth.

Still with that strange, distant sensation, as if he wasn’t in control of his body, Graham sat up in bed and swung his feet to the floor. He watched as his toes wriggled and something shifted under the skin. They did look a little bloated. Over several minutes, Graham watched like a passenger while his feet flexed back and forth, looking a little larger with each twist of the arch and ankle. Dark hair began to sprout on his growing toes.

At last, they seemed to stabilise, and Graham’s body lifted his right foot up. A faint, but distinctive, aroma rose from the massive sole. “Mmm, smells like being alive,” said Graham’s mouth with a smirk.

The next morning, Graham laid in bed for a long time. He’d never been a foot guy, so this dream was especially strange. He realised, thinking back on it, that his cock had, in fact, been hard the entire time. There was even a stain in his Calvins—somehow, every night he’d worn pyjamas to bed he’d tossed them off while dreaming—like he’d had a wet dream.

When he got out of bed, he wondered why his feet looked oddly tan against the skin of his legs. And, later, why they felt strangely snug in his loafers. They pinched where they had felt perfectly comfortable before.

When he got home, it was a relief to tear his shoes off, but Graham wrinkled his nose at the sharp aroma emanating from his sweaty socks. That was it, he resolved, he needed to stop procrastinating and wash himself properly again.

But it is sort of hot.

Graham paused as he was about to start making a shopping list. If he really thought about it, the scent was kind of hot. No one had mentioned that Graham wasn’t soaping up his body or deodorizing anymore. The smell from his feet hadn’t bothered anyone. It was like it was his own little dirty secret. Like another role he could play underneath his work role.

And the smell really was sort of attractive.

“New shoes” went on the shopping list.

Some sneakers, too. To get really smelly.

Right, Graham didn’t want to mess up any work shoes as he experimented with this new interest of his. “Sneakers.”

It was like his dream had opened a floodgate. Every night, Graham dreamed of his feet growing erotically, and each day they were just a bit larger, with just a bit more stink built up on them. In his dreams, Graham talked to himself, talking about getting gym equipment, a bunch of new clothes, even about how boring Graham found his job.

More and more, Graham found himself agreeing with his dreaming self. One evening, he put a bunch of gym equipment into his Amazon cart, then turned off his computer. Gym stuff cost a lot of money, he needed to be sure he wanted to buy it. But that night, he dreamed about sitting at his computer to finalise the order, and the equipment arrived a few days later. At that point, it seemed like a waste to return it, so Graham set it up in the spare room, where he had originally planned to have a library.

Books are boring.

Graham had decided books were boring.

Any time he was at home now, Graham kept finding himself thinking, “I should do a few reps.” The results were unbelievable, with muscles thickening all over his body in what seemed like just a few days. It wasn’t long before Graham was outgrowing all of his clothes, quickly wearing out three new pairs of jeans in as many weeks.

Sweats are better anyway.

Graham’s new fitness obsession extended into his dreams, too. The cold, slippery sensation still enveloped his feet every night, but it also covered most of his body now. In his dreams, Graham would feel himself get out of bed and strut to the bathroom to pose and flex as his muscles grew larger and larger, until they bulged off his frame.

Once his muscles had grown thick and tanned dark, Graham’s dreams went in a few different directions. Often, he would watch in the mirror as he sniffed his armpits or feet, jacking the thick, musky foreign cock that had grown in place of his average, cut dick. Sometimes, Graham would hear himself say, “Nah, needs some more,” after sniffing himself. Then, he would go to his home gym and pump out reps until he was coated in sweat.

He always woke up aching and coated in stale sweat after those dreams, with a pungent scent emanating from his armpits and shockingly larger feet.

Every few nights, Graham had a dream where he would run his thick, callused hands over his neck and face, subtly pinching and compressing his face until a handsome stranger looked back at him in the mirror. “There, that’s the real me,” he would say to himself in a deep, smokey voice.

After those dreams, Graham was always surprised to see his normal face in the mirror. And yet, there would be a familiar sharpness to his jaw, or the set of his dark eyebrows, that reminded him of the face in his dreams.

The world outside his apartment felt increasingly strange. It was like a part of his internal voice was missing. He had trouble understanding his own thoughts, now. It was like he was a jumble of two different people. Had he really used to spend most of his free time reading library books? Was he really the kind of guy who didn’t put himself up for a bonus at the end of the year?

The apartment was safe and secure. It was like Graham’s mind was wrapped in calm and good sense as soon as he walked in. His mind spoke louder, which let him make better decisions, like the time that he wore sweats and T-shirt to work. It had made perfect sense when he walked out the door, but then he had stumbled over his words when he tried to explain to his boss why he was dressed appropriately for work.

Long story short, Graham was arriving home early today. He was just unlocking his door when Leo came barrelling up the stairs in running gear. He stopped when he spotted Graham, just stepping over the threshold and into the wonderful calm of his apartment.

“Who are—Graham?” Leo stared at him. “Is that really you?”

Graham looked down at himself, then back over at Leo. “Uh, yeah?”

“No way. You’re so…muscular and tan. I barely recognise your face.”

“Yeah, I had a bit of a growth spurt.” Graham flexed a bicep with a grin.

“A growth spurt powered by anabolics and a talented plastic surgeon, sure,” Leo was frowning at him.

Graham was kind of offended by his rude neighbour. He’d put a lot of hard work into this body!

Yeah, I have. Get him in the apartment.

“Look,” Graham sighed, the words spilling from his lips like in his dreams, “I’ve had a bad day. Just come inside if you want to talk.”

Leo seemed to hesitate, just for an instant. “But that’s the—“

“Either get inside, or get out of my face.” Graham’s voice sounded a bit gruff to his ears, beyond just the depth that it had gained over the months he’d lived here. It was like it was another man’s voice.

Leo shook himself. “Okay.” He steeled himself and followed Graham over the threshold.

Perfect.

“Whew, it’s ripe in here, man,” Leo observed. “Do you ever shower?”

“Just with cold water.” Graham kicked out of his sneakers, freeing his massive, socked feet and stretching them out. More and more, he felt separate from his body, as if he was watching it move. Still, it hadn’t done anything he wouldn’t have done, he thought. He was just playing another role.

“Well, clearly, it’s not…enough…” Graham watched, his mouth held in a strange smile, as Leo seemed to lose his train of thought. The man’s nostrils flared, and he swayed slightly.

“Yeah, not so mighty and judgmental anymore,” said Graham’s voice. “You’ve forced me to move up my schedule a bit, but it’s not a problem.”

Leo licked his lips before answering. “Sorry, sir,” he said thickly.

“You’re the guy who’s been helping my potential bodies escape, aren’t you?”

“I warn them about this apartment…I keep listings for new places they can go…” Leo’s eyes started to clear, and he shook his head. “No, wait, what the fuck—“

In a flash, Graham leapt into action. He didn’t know how he got one of his sneakers in his hand, but he grabbed Leo in a headlock and shoved his face into the putrid interior. “Nuh-uh-uh, no escapes or exorcisms this time,” Graham’s voice whispered, as Leo thrashed in his strong arms. “The more you fight, the more you fall. Isn’t it hot? My sexy, sweaty new body all around you, and the smell and taste of my foot musk all over your face?”

As Graham spoke, Leo’s struggles weakened. Graham watched with amusement as they both slumped to the floor, a rock-hard boner growing in Leo’s running shorts.

Finally, Graham’s grip on the sneaker loosened, even as Leo reached up to hold it himself. “Look, this is all just a misunderstanding,” Graham’s said soothingly. “You’ve thought I was a sexy beast since I moved in, right? You loved my big, musky muscles and my foot stink. That’s why you made up that story about a haunted apartment.”

Leo’s eyes seemed to be rolling uncontrollably in his head, but he nodded.

“Now I’ve finally noticed you and invited you inside. You just couldn’t help yourself, you foot slut. You were gonna tackle me before I gave you that shoe to lick.”

Leo nodded fervently, moaning. A wet spot was forming at his crotch.

“Now we’re gonna go to the bedroom and I’m gonna shove my cheesy uncut cock in that virgin hole of yours, okay bro?”

“Fuck,” Leo gasped, muffled through the shoe. “Fuck yes, Graham.”

“Nah, man,” said Graham’s voice, picking Leo up like he was a doll, “I’d rather you call me Grey.”

As Grey’s thick cock entered Leo, Graham found himself watching as if from outside himself. He could see his own handsome, angular face as he fucked Leo. He could see Grey’s massive, musky feet shift as he gained a better angle to make Leo squeal. He could even watch the dribbles of sweat run over his thick ass as his voice gave short, sharp pants.

“Fuck yeah,” Grey said to himself in a harsh voice, picking up the pace.

“This is my body.”

“This is my fucking musk temple.”

“Made it all by my-fucking-self.”

“Feels fucking good to be alive.”

As Grey buried his thick, musky cock deep in Leo, shaking through his orgasm, Graham found himself back inside his body. Once again, he watched like a passenger as Grey licked his load out of Leo’s asshole, then sent his happy new foot slut on his way with a spare sneaker and instructions to stop using soap and add Grey's contact info to his bank account.

Eventually, Grey lounged on the couch, naked, idly stroking his slimy, still-lubed cock and scrolling through Grindr. “What do you think, Graham?” he said out loud. “Since it's my first night able to leave the apartment, I should go crash some boys’ b-ball game and make some more foot slaves, right?”

Graham couldn’t help but agree. He was just the voice in Grey’s head, after all.

This story is a slightly belated holiday gift for @idesofrevolution! Happy holidays, and here's to a hot and sexy new year ;)

#male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #male tf #race change #musk tf #male possession #gay possession #feet kink tf #all fwkong

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evansbby · 6 months

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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”

He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.

“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”

Other assistant. You knew what that meant.

You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.

“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.

You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”

“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.

He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”

***

“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”

Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.

You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.

“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.

“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.

“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”

He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.

“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.

“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.

She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”

You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.

“Aww, but Pete–”

“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”

You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.

“That was a close one, huh?”

“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”

He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.

“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”

***

Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.

But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.

“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”

You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.

You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.

You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.

You really feel like a decoration now.

“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.

Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”

You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.

“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.

Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”

“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.

Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”

His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.

“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”

Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).

He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).

He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.

***

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.

He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”

You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”

He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”

“Make a name for myself.”

He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.

You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.

“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.

“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”

He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”

He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”

The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.

“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.

“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.

He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.

***

“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”

You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”

He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.

“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”

He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.

“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”

He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.

“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“So the fuck are you.”

He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.

“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.

You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.

“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”

He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.

“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”

***

“I do.”

Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.

And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.

It was a good thing you liked kids.

“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.

You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.

“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”

Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?

You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.

“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.

“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”

You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”

He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.

It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.

“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.

“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.

“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.

“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”

“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”

SFJHKASGD THE END!

If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!

#pete brenner #pete brenner x reader #pain hustlers #chris evans #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson

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nxuvillette · 5 months

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“LET’S KEEP THIS HUSH, HUSH.”

CEO SECRET RELATIONSHIP W/ TR MEN

synopsis: messing with the ceo of your rivaling company didn’t seem that hard to let go of.. or did it?

❥- including : ran haitani, sanzu haruchiyo, rindou haitani

❥- note : trying this again! praying it actually works 😭 reblogs are appreciated!!

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, ceo!reader, bonten timeline, all men are ceo’s, mentions of harassment (sanzu), praising, use of pet names (baby , angel , princess), slight breeding kink (ran + rindou), creampie (all), some possessive behavior, mentions of pregnancy (rindou).

♡ RAN HAITANI

you never expected to fall for someone like ran haitani.

he was cunning, attractive, and quite a clever man. he also ran one of the best businesses in all of Roppongi. he attracted all kinds of women by just doing simply nothing, so when he saw you at a club, you didn’t think it would be anything more than a quickie in the bathroom.

that quickie turned into dates, hookups at his apartment, and him taking you out more than you had anticipated.

however, all of that changed when you discovered that ran just wasn’t a ceo for some random company, but it was the same company that rivaled yours. your father had some previous ties to the business and he seemed to have forgotten to mention it to you when you took hold of the reins. you were now worried. as a ceo of your own company, you placed yourself at risk for possibly sabotaging things that your father had worked so hard to create.

but, you just couldn’t help yourself.

your face was smooshed into the leather of ran’s expensive couch. his fingertips danced along your spine while his cock lazily dragged inside of your walls. you had told yourself you weren’t going to see him tonight. you wanted to ignore his text messages, but there was something about his presence that drew you in. he was addictive.

“you’re taking me so well, angel..” he squeezed the plush of your ass, savoring how soft your skin was.

your eyes rolled back from how well ran was fucking you. there was just something about how he did it that made you light on fire. it’s what made you come crawling back to him every single time. “a-ah! ran! yes, right there!” you mewled when the tip kissed that spongy spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure over you.

the older haitani loved how pretty you sounded right now. he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. you were too damn perfect to ever pass up. he didn’t give a single shit if you two were meant to be “rivals.” how was someone like him supposed to never see someone like you? you were one of the only women he genuinely saw himself being comfortable with. he didn’t want to be a secret, but for you, he’d do absolutely anything.

his grip on your hips tightened and his pace suddenly became quicker than it had originally begun. “ran! fuck, fuck, cum inside me!” you cried, turning your head just a little so you could see his handsome face.

he couldn’t stop the smirk he wore from writing itself on his face. god, he had been wanting to do that for so damn long. “ah..? okay, baby, i’ll make sure you’re nice and full when i’m done..” he cooed, pushing you further into the couch.

skin slapped against each other as ran’s pace was practically animalistic. he groaned deeply when he finally met his release. spurts of his cum made its way into your cunt, making you shiver from how it felt. that had been the first time he had ever came inside you, and you honestly craved it a lot. it was so amazing.

he pulled out of you, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “i’ll gladly be your secret, baby, but nobody better touch you other than me..”

♡ SANZU HARUCHIYO

you met sanzu in an odd way one evening. you were on the way home from your long and tiring work day when some random guy kept egging you on. he kept making comments towards you and practically begging for you to give him any ounce of attention.

well, the guy didn’t end up leaving you alone, and he ended up trailing after you in a pretty shitty part of town. you couldn’t lie that you weren’t scared. the sun had already set and that guy was hot on your tail. you could try calling the police but you knew full well that they wouldn’t get there in time to help you, so you tried your best to rush out of there and lose the guy.

unfortunately, he caught up to you and ended up yanking on your arm. you let out a scream and shoved him away from you, but he was quite strong. you thought you were about to be robbed or even worse, but that all immediately fizzled out when someone had intervened. a man with bubblegum pink hair had the guy shoved on the ground. he kicked and beat the shit out of the guy, leaving him completely scared and helpless on the dirty floor.

sanzu had tended to you the moment he saw your frightened expression. he brought you to the police station and you reported the man who had been following you. you thought that would be the last time you’d ever see him, but that wasn’t the case.

you saw him more often than you should have. you two started a connection with each other and began to go out to bars or even little dates. you tried to tell yourself it was just platonic, but you disliked how your heart would often skip a beat whenever you saw his name light up on your phone. the only issue was that sanzu was the head of a huge company in Tokyo. he rivaled you, and seeing him could cause issues within your business. however, you just couldn’t stay away.

that’s how you ended up in your own office with sanzu hovering above you. his cock bullied your walls, making it difficult for you to keep quiet. “mmm.. sanzu! oh, god..” you moaned, looking at him through your eyelashes.

a smile stretched across his scarred lips. he knew from the beginning that you were his rival. he had seen you before, but he could care less. you were a beautiful woman and he couldn’t lie that you made him happy. “keep sayin’ it, baby, scream out my fuckin’ name so everyone in this building knows who’s making you feel good..” he then began to play with your swollen clit, increasing the pleasure.

you practically screamed his name when you finally came all over his cock. he thought it was so cute seeing you becoming such a mess for him. “s-sanzu! sanzu!” you whined, trembling within his hands from your orgasm.

your desk began to creak from the movements and the weight you both were putting on it. sanzu’s pace was rough and fast. you could hardly keep up with him. his cock was twitching and within seconds he felt himself let go inside of you. he loved how warm your pussy felt around him. he just couldn’t help himself.

he kissed you sloppily, biting on your lower lip. “don’t think we’re much of a secret now, are we..?”

♡ RINDOU HAITANI

rindou haitani was quite the charmer. he didn’t have the best luck with women, but when he did, he treated them like angels. that was no different when he met you at one of the clubs he DJ at.

he drew you in almost instantly. his expensive cologne, lavender hair, a smile that could make any girl drop her panties. you knew hooking up with him that night would be good, and you thought it would be just a simple one night stand. most men your age never really stuck around after one sex filled evening, so you placed your expectations below what they usually were.

though, it shocked you when rindou continued to message you, even after your hookup.

although you were a little unsure of his intentions, you decided to keep seeing him. he took you out on nice dates, and he had even went as far as buying you a few nice gifts from expensive stores. it wasn’t until your assistant pointed out who rindou actually was that you realized how wrong it looked to be seeing someone like him. rindou ran a company that rivaled yours. it shocked you that you hadn’t noticed far sooner, but you just couldn’t stay away from him.

you repeated to yourself over and over that you wouldn’t fuck him again. you shouldn’t be doing it at all.

but, your body had betrayed you and that desire for him lit like a candle in the dark.

rindou had your legs around his waist. his thrusts were deep and fast, making you cry out in pleasure every single time he reached those great spots inside you. he had you just where he wanted you. “rindou..! fuck, it feels so good..!” you threw your head back onto the pillow behind you.

“heh, you enjoying yourself? you’re so fucking beautiful..” he groaned, leaning down to nibble at your neck.

you gasped when rindou bit down on that sweet spot on your neck. he sucked on it hard enough that there would for sure be a mark afterwards. it’s like he was begging for you two to be caught by others. that thought alone didn’t seem to bother rindou. if anything, he wanted people to know what you two were doing with each other.

you clawed at his back when you felt your orgasm hit you harder than a truck. rindou couldn’t help but grunt when your pussy clamped around his cock so perfectly. fuck, it’s like you were made for him. “so good for me, baby, so fuckin’ good..” he quickened his thrusts, inching him closer to his high. “want me to cum in you..? make this pretty pussy all mine?”

“y-yes! yes, please, rindou!” you cried, nodding your head.

he held your thighs tightly, fucking the absolute shit out of your cunt. you were so fucking great. he never found someone like you. he didn’t care what your statuses might be. all he wanted was you.

rindou groaned one last time then he reached his climax. he had completely let go inside of you. thick cum filled your womb, leaving a huge mess inside. you took it all so well. he didn’t want to leave your snug walls. “wanna go again..? maybe i can give you a baby while i’m at it..” he smirked.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #ran x reader #sanzu x reader #rindou x reader #rindou smut #ran smut #sanzu smut #ran haitani smut #sanzu haruchiyo smut #rindou haitani smut

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apomaro-mellow · 5 months

Text

Every Baby Needs a Daddy

Part 1/?

Modern au rock star!Eddie & sugar baby!Steve; alpha!Eddie/omega!Steve

Fall was in full swing and a chill was officially in the air at all times. Most especially as the sun started to go down. Eddie was warm in his leather jacket but for a brief moment his heart went out to the guy standing outside the bar, arms bare to the wind. He was dressed in a striped polo shirt and jeans, not quite what one might see in a dive bar like this.

But he was probably waiting for someone, so Eddie went inside without another thought, catching just the smallest whiff of his scent as he walked by. An omega. He was definitely waiting for someone then. No one kept their omega idling for long. Once inside, Eddie took his shades off, the lights low enough to keep most from recognizing him.

It helped that he was flying solo tonight. No band members or bodyguards in sight. It was nice to be anonymous sometimes. Not that fame and fortune ever got tiring, it was just a good change of pace. He posted up to the bar, ordered a beer, and got comfortable. He was right in the middle of a conversation with another patron about the current season's fishing prospects when that scent washed over him again something like lavender and petrichor.

Although, when Eddie looked over, that second part might've just been the scent of actual rain. The omega from outside was sitting next to him. The tops of his shoulders and head were damp.

"Was wonderin' when you'd come in and grace us with your presence", the bartender said.

The omega simply rolled his eyes and didn't order anything. Eddie saw him shiver and without thinking, took off his jacket and placed it over his shoulders. He realized what he'd done when the other man froze.

"Sorry you just looked cold and maybe you were but I shouldn't've just done something like that I can-I can take it back", he reached out.

"No", the omega held onto the jacket. "No, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

"I uh, saw you outside. Boyfriend making you wait?" Eddie inwardly cringed. He meant to be more subtle than that. Meant to say something anything else.

"Don't have one." The omega got a strange look as he finally looked Eddie square in the face. "Have I...seen you somewhere before? Sorry", he shook his head and let out a breath of laughter. "What I line. I swear I'm not-I'm not trying to come on to you or anything, I just know I've seen you on like tv or something."

Eddie couldn't judge on pick up lines after what he said about a boyfriend. "You...you might've." He looked around and contemplated for just a second before he continued. "Ever heard of Corroded Coffin?"

"They're a band, right? That's where I know you from?"

Eddie grinned. "Yeah, that's where." He could tell this guy just barely recognized him and that it wasn't an act.

"God, Dustin would kill me. I can hear him now. Sorry, I'm probably not the kind of fan you like running in to."

"I'll take polite conversation over groveling any day. So do you know any of the member's names?"

"I know there's the guy Dustin likes the most because he can play drums and the bass. He admires talented people like that. And he goes on and on about this Eddie guy, but I can never remember which one-you?"

"Me, handsome", Eddie grinned. "And your name?"

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'."

Steve. Eddie had to taste it on his tongue. "Steve. And were you waiting for Dustin before the rain brought you in?"

Steve smiled now, adjusting Eddie's jacket across his shoulders. "No, I wasn't really waiting for anyone. And before you ask, Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." Steve ran a hand through his hair, not so damp anymore after they had been talking.

"You gonna order something or keep taking up space at my bar?", the bartender asked.

"What's your poison, Steve?"

"Oh, I can't pay you back", Steve said.

"Then don't. Order something."

"I mean I really can't pay you back, Eddie. I was hanging around outside because I...because I'm between paychecks right now. And I'm not that kind of omega." Steve's shoulders hunched up in shame and he looked like he was about to remove Eddie's jacket.

"I didn't say you were. You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

"Really?", Steve asked, voice flat in disbelief.

"Really."

Steve turned to the bartender. "Whiskey sour please."

Eddie smiled. "So, what's your opinion on farmed fish versus wild caught?"

---------------------------

Steve had been going through the worst day of his life. Work had been awful and he had wanted to scream. He ran out so quick that he forgot his jacket and was already halfway home when he remembered. He kept going. He wasn't going back there today. He got to his apartment, ready to fill his empty stomach with something only to find he was devoid of food.

Of course. He'd cleaned himself out with his last heat and hadn't gone grocery shopping since. He'd been eating out for the past week. And if he checked his bank account....

$10.43

And pay day wasn't for another three days. Steve was desperate. It was plenty of money if he went to the convenience store right outside his apartment. But the cashier there always gave him odd looks and he just didn't have the energy for it. He contemplated sending someone in to buy his stuff, but he wasn't feeling very trusting right now.

Which was how he ended up at the bar. The dollar store would've been an option last week, but it was a couple of miles away and his car was in the shop. He didn't even know what his plan was. Buy the cheapest drink and fill up on pretzels and nuts? It was why he was standing outside as the sun got lower, just feeling sorry for himself.

He just wished someone would take pity on him. Would see how hard he had been working and told him it was okay, he could take a break now and they'd take care of him.

Hell would probably freeze over first though.

Then the rain started and he couldn't waste time out here any longer. At least inside the bar, it was warm. Steve already wasn't looking forward to the walk home. What if it was still raining? He couldn't afford to get sick right now. He sat at the only empty seat at the bar and thought of the least pathetic way to ask for a cheap drink when something warm came over him.

It smelled of ginger and cinnamon and for a moment, Steve was drowning in it when he heard the owner of the jacket try to apologize for it and then take it back. Instinctively, Steve held onto it tighter.

"No, no, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

The alpha next to him said something about a boyfriend that Steve barely registered but figured out by context what he was asking.

"Don't have one." He shook his head and then actually looked the alpha up and down. Curly hair spilled over his shoulders and he looked smaller without the leather jacket that was currently over his own shoulders. There was something oddly familiar about him. Like he'd seen that face on his social media feed or something.

When Steve asked, he realized he was talking to a guy in Dustin's favorite band. He felt like an idiot. This guy was probably used to starstruck fans bowing at his feet and here Steve was, just treating him like a nobody. But try as he might, Steve couldn't pretend like he was some big deal, even imagining Dustin's lecture on proper celebrity sighting etiquette later didn't change things.

Then the alpha, Eddie his name was Eddie, introduced himself and then asked for his name, tacking on a compliment at the end of the question.

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'." He couldn't help being a little hungry for some positive attention right now.

Then Eddie asked a very unsubtle question about Dustin, insinuating that he was some kind of boyfriend and Steve wanted to laugh. The little kid he had babysat that had been like the pain in the ass brother he never asked for definitely wasn't that. And he let Eddie know that.

"Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." He didn't know why he said it like that. He might as well have spread his legs and held up a sign that said 'open for business'. This guy was a literal rock star, he must have lustful groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. Wording it like that absolutely wasn't Steve intention. Even if his scent was so comforting and intoxicating.

Then the bartender urged them to order something and Steve felt his empty stomach drop. Eddie insisted on buying him a drink and Steve really wished he had the money for it because there was no way he was paying in any other way. And if Eddie was expecting that, he'd just as soon go back out into the rain, leaving the warm jacket behind.

"You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

Steve searched his face for a bluff, any sign of dishonesty. But he saw none.

"Really?"

"Really."

So Steve ordered just as Eddie asked him something about fishing and clearly this night was not going to go the way he planned.

--------------------------

Eddie was halfway through his second drink and knee deep in a conversation about the pros and cons of fishing compared to hunting. Apparently Steve's dad took him out hunting before he presented and afterward, his grandfather took him out on a couple of fishing trips.

"One just seems more fair, is all I'm saying", Steve said, still nursing his first drink. "One has you sneaking up on an unsuspecting animal. The other one you're just luring them. Fish know what they're getting into. Deer don't until they're already in your sights."

"You think very highly of fish intelligence", Eddie noted.

"I once had a year long beef with a friend's pet fish. Long story. But fish are smarter than they look." Then Steve's stomach growled. Very loudly. Embarrassingly loud.

"I don't know about you, but all this fish talk is making me hungry", Eddie said. "Can I buy you dinner?"

"I suppose I've got about twenty bucks worth of more conversation in me", Steve smiled, appreciating what Eddie was offering.

Eddie paid the tab and Steve put his arms into the jacket, then remembered Eddie might want it since it was cold outside. "Did you want-"

"Keep it on. I run hot anyway and we just need to make it to my car." That was a lie, Eddie had the circulation of a failing newspaper but he liked the look of Steve in his jacket too much to give it up. And the rain had stopped so now it was just damp and cold outside.

Steve thought he should feel wary of getting into a car with a stranger, especially a famous one. But he had his phone on him and Eddie was taking him to a place with a lot of people, so it was fine. Eddie put his sunglasses on as they went inside and asked for a table in the back, which the person up front gladly accommodated.

"Not to toot my own horn", Eddie said as they were seated. "But I can never tell when and where I'll get recognized. And I don't want any tabloids tomorrow morning." Because right now, Steve didn't just look like some random guy that Eddie was wining and dining. Right now, he looked like he belonged to Eddie.

"Got any funny stories?", Steve asked.

Eddie grinned and rolled his shoulders as he got comfortable in his seat. "Well, there was the one time I was literally in a tv studio about to be interviewed with the band and someone thought I was the boom guy."

"If I was dressing up on Halloween as a boom guy, I think I'd put on this general look", Steve said, gesturing to Eddie's whole body.

"And there was the time I got recognized while at a fabric store. I'm standing in line, basket full of sewing supplies and a bunch of floral fabrics, and this woman in her sixties asks for my autograph."

"Aren't you in a metal band?"

"Yeah and some of our most hardcore fans are women over 40", Eddie said. "Don't underestimate 'em."

A waiter came by and took their orders and they kept talking. Steve couldn't believe how badly his day had started because now it felt like he was flying above the clouds. Eddie actually seemed interested in what he had to say. And Steve was constantly thrown by the different directions Eddie took the conversation. From fishing, to getting recognized stories, to horrible customers, to the perils of sailing a boat.

"Never?"

"I remember going once as a kid and was scared shitless the whole time", Steve said. "Whoever decided it was okay for me to watch Titanic in kindergarten really messed me up."

"So besides that one time you've never been on a boat?", Eddie asked.

"My parents tried getting me on a yacht once and I started hyperventilating on the dock. I stayed on the boardwalk", Steve said. Just one of the many ways he'd been a disappointment.

After the meal, Eddie offered to drive Steve home. He wanted to. But after drinks and food and talking to Eddie for so long about nothing at all, Steve felt cautious. Had his guard lowered? If he let Eddie see him to his door, would Eddie be expecting something? What made him even more hesitant was that he might let Eddie get away with it.

He was handsome and charming and had alleviated Steve's worries for a few hours. He was even going home with some leftovers in a box. For a second, Steve wondered if food was all it took.

"Hey, look, I understand if you don't want some strange alpha taking you home. What about if I just order you a ride?", Eddie suggested.

"You can take me home", Steve said quickly. "Just don't expect any dessert."

Before leaving, Eddie excused himself to use the restroom and Steve used that opportunity to do something that was probably really stupid. It was certainly pointless. But he could take a risk every now and then. He tore off a piece of the menu and used a pen at the podium up front and that was how Eddie found him.

"Ready to go?"

"Ready", Steve smiled.

The car ride was a little more quiet, both of them digesting both the food and what had happened tonight. Meeting a stranger that you clicked with, it didn't happen every day. Steve gave him his address and Eddie pulled up to the building.

"You should walk me up", Steve said. "Make sure I get there safe."

"Y-yeah, I can do that", Eddie stuttered, struggling with his seatbelt while Steve was already out of the car.

Eddie followed him to his apartment, glad now for the chill outside because otherwise he'd be sweating watching Steve's ass for so long as he walked in front of him.

"Well, this is me", Steve said.

"I had a great time tonight", Eddie said.

Steve laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we come up with anymore first date lines?"

"Hmm, how's about I'd love to do this again soon?", Eddie smiled, leaning in a bit.

"I'd like that." Steve took Eddie's jacket off his shoulders.

"What if I want you to wear it for our next date?", Eddie asked.

"If you want me to wear this, you better scent it properly", Steve goaded.

Eddie pinned him against the door and smashed their mouths together. His jacket was trapped between their bodies. Steve let out a soft sound and brought a hand to Eddie's cheek.

"We can't go on a second date until the first one is over", Steve said when he pulled back. He curled a lock of Eddie's hair around his finger just because he couldn't help it.

"Your number?", Eddie asked, licking at Steve's lips.

"Check your jacket", Steve breathed.

Eddie didn't take his eyes off Steve as he went through his jacket pocket and found what Steve had been scribbling on earlier. It was a ripped piece of the menu. And it had Steve's number on it.

Part 2

If I had a nickel for every time I steddified a Marilyn Monroe song I'd have two nickels.

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #okay maybe dont expect all the parts to be this long tho LOL

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

friday, i'm in love (eddie munson x reader)

summary: one of these days, you'll talk to the cute boy at your coffee shop. just... not today. (wc: 6.3k+)

order up! i've got one cup of sunshine for @munson-blurbs ♡

Today’s the day.

You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag as it digs into your shoulder.

Today’s the day.

You pull the door open for your local Starbucks, your preferred study date destination.

Today’s the day.

You smile at one of the other regulars, a kind and older gentleman named Jim. If you focus on Jim, your eyes won’t avert to him.

Today’s the day.

You already know he’s here. You delude yourself into believing you can specifically hear the scratch of his pencil on paper, that every click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard is coming from his laptop. Hell, maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d convince yourself the music humming over the shop’s speakers is actually the muffled tone warbling out of his headphones.

Today’s the day.

You order one of your normal drinks, one brimming with caffeine and drowning in enough sweet caramel drizzle to give you instantaneous cavities. It doesn’t matter – today’s meant to be a sweet day. The weather’s nice, nothing like it was last week when you’d been ordering a hot Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey each day, and you tell the young man taking your order that it’ll be iced.

He’s new. You have no doubt in your mind, because he wasn’t here last week, and one of the baristas you do recognize is hovering to the side as he rings you out.

You’re a creature of habit. All the baristas know you well, other regulars (see: Jim) even recognize you these days. You used to only come in once or twice a week, either to cram for tests or play a morbid game of catchup with all your homework, but something changed in the last two months.

He showed up in the last two months.

Today’s… not the day.

You turn with your overly sweet drink in hand only to be met with sore disappointment. You were right, he is here, already seated at his usual table.

And he’s joined by a girl and boy you’ve never seen before, but he surely has, by the way he’s all smiles and laughter focused directly at the pair.

You try to not let your stomach drop too low, to catch it before it hits the ground and gathers any unwanted attention your way. It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s good – today wasn’t the day, but maybe tomorrow will be. Maybe tomorrow can finally be the day you speak to the boy from the coffee shop who’s overrun your thoughts one day at a time, the boy you see every day like clockwork, the boy you’ve never exchanged a single word with.

“Dingus, you can’t just say that to a girl!” the girl seated in front of him, her back to you, yells as she smacks Dingus on the chest.

Your coffeeshop boy only cackles in delight, and you feel as if the sunshine that has broken through the cloud cover outside has wormed its way into your veins. His laugh is brilliant and warming as it echoes in your chest, and you try to remind your beating heart that it isn’t yours to keep. That doesn’t stop your arteries and veins from wrapping their way around the sound and thrumming to match its pace. It doesn’t stop your ribs from trying to hopelessly capture the sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll make him laugh like that, maybe one day you’ll find the nerve to strike a conversation with him.

Tomorrow has to be the day, since this sunny Monday hasn’t been.

—

Tuesday also isn’t the day.

You don’t even have a good excuse this time. He’s alone today, just as he usually is. His headphones are already in once you’ve arrived and you can hear tinny guitar solos blaring out of them from across the room. You almost convince yourself that that’s a good reason to approach him, to tap his shoulder and let him know how listening to music that loudly can permanently damage your eardrums, y’know?

But then you realized how prissy that made you sound. If you did that, you’re sure Chrissy, one of your favorite baristas here, would absolutely taunt you for days on end, probably making jabs about you being a grandma, going the full mile and offering you a senior discount just for shit and giggles.

So you stay seated. And you meet the peculiar look of Chrissy as she watches you and Eddie, the only two customers in the lobby this time of afternoon, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. The raise of her eyebrows serves as a painful prodding in your side as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for? Go on.”

You don’t go on. And that’s the issue – for the last two months, you have let the idea of some stranger completely occupy every thought you have to spare without even knowing his name. He was just always here; two months ago, your once quaint and nice study spot was infiltrated by wild curls and drumming fingers, plush pink lips that could make the older ladies that pass through absolutely swoon with a simple smirk and hello. You’d talked the ear off of all your friends for nearly an hour the day he’d worn grey sweatpants in rather than his normal ripped jeans. You’d caught yourself staring intently at the various rings that decorate his left hand on more than one occasion, trying to make out what the various symbols of silver were.

“This is getting painful to watch.”

You hadn’t even noticed Chrissy round the counter and head over to your table with a cloth in hand until she was looking down at you with a soft, childish pout and her big blue eyes framed with furrowed brows.

“What?” you question, putting down the pen you’d been clicking on and off for the last ten minutes, making no move to properly revise and submit the essay lighting up the screen of your laptop.

Chrissy keeps her voice low, moving to lean down closer to you under the guise of wiping the table beside yours, “The two of you. It’s painful, babe. One of you has to stop making eyes and make the first real move eventually.”

Real. A word you had cursed over a glass of wine with your roommate last night.

She’d pointed out the way you only liked the idea of your coffee shop boy thus far, how you had yet to introduce yourself to the real him. Which, she was right, of course. It was easiest this way; from a distance, he can be anything you want. He could be your easy Sunday mornings, sleepy smiles over toast and coffee made at home. He could be your tired Thursday evenings, coming straight home from whatever class or shift had wreaked havoc on your mind and right into his arms, popcorn and a movie already waiting for you to decompress over as you told him about your day. He could be a source of comfort on cold nights, a breath of fresh air on warmer mornings. He could be anything, as long as he continued to be just your coffee shop boy. A fruitless crush you’d always observe from across a bustling lobby. Keeping him at an arm’s length kept both of you safe: from disappointment, from complications, from reality.

“Just because we both come in everyday to use your free wifi and drink your mediocre coffee, doesn’t mean you get to play match-maker when you’re bored,” you try to keep a straight face as you say this, forcing a look of disinterest as Chrissy stares you down.

Normally, this would be the part where you’d snap at Chrissy that if she was so piqued in her interest with your coffeeshop boy, she could ask him out herself. But he wasn’t Chrissy’s type – the round enamel pin on her apron with a faded, baby pink background, multiple cats stacked on top of one another in different shades of pink, orange, and white, told you as much. The heart eyes she’d made at the girl that had been here with him the day before confirmed it.

“Don’t be so pissy,” Chrissy teases, “Or I’ll revoke wifi privileges.”

“You don’t scare me, Chris.”

“I should.”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” you scoff, a bit louder than before, and don’t even notice your boy subtly taking one of his earbuds out, fighting to keep his eyes down to the page he’s scribbling on rather than glancing up at your interaction, “And I use bark sparingly, considering your bubblegum pink aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream scary dog.”

Chrissy grins wider at your words – you’ve never backed down from being brazen with your humor against her. You don’t treat her grossly delicate or thickly lay on fake niceties. You’re genuine. It’s probably a contributing factor to you being her favorite regular.

He snorts, and you just barely catch the echo of the sound, making both you and Chrissy glance in his direction.

His eyes are glued on his notebook as a blush begins to spread up his neck. You can’t help the shy smile that urges the corners of your mouth upwards.

Talk to him, Chrissy mouths obnoxiously as she grabs her rag, taking slow and exaggerated steps backwards before she spins, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she speed-walks back behind the counter.

One day, you’ll talk to him. Soon.

—

Soon comes too soon. Far too soon and far too embarrassing of circumstances.

One moment, your eyes are glued to the statistics textbook in front of you, laptop set off to the side with your headphones connected in and a study playlist queued up on Spotify. The next, someone’s frappucino is spilling across the pages of numbers and percentages, making you gasp and jump back to no avail. The damage is done – your book is ruined, the front of your shirt is soaked, and all of your handwritten notes are now soggy and unreadable.

“Oh, shit!” the poor kid who had been the culprit stands before you, stunned and red with embarrassment as his friends quiet their cackling from behind him. It’s clear the group had been rough-housing, and that’s what led to this accident.

You zero in on a melting glob of whipped cream that settles into the open spine of the textbook, mouth falling agape as tears fill your eyes immediately.

Shit. No. No, no, no. This was a rental.

None of the younger boys are the one to make a move to help you. The baristas don’t stand a chance, delayed in even noticing the commotion. You’re a statue of bleary vision and panicking breaths as you realize the sticky mess is everywhere, including your laptop.

Your coffeeshop boy notices immediately. He’d noticed the moment the young boy had lost his balance beside you, was already scooting out his chair and jumping up before the blended coffee had even made contact with your table.

You come to your senses right around the time he’s at your side, a fistful of napkins, uselessly attempting to save your textbook that was already clearly ruined.

“Ah, fuck,” he whispers as he uses up all the napkins he’d managed to snag, looking up wildly at you, eyes zeroing in on the mess on the front of your shirt. You can’t even relish in the fact that this is the first time you’ve heard his voice so closely; you’re mortified and trembling, still unsure of whether you’re more angry about your textbook, your laptop, or your shirt, “Hey, you okay?”

Tears. There’s tears streaming down your face, hot with embarrassment and anger and defeat. You think the kid whose drink is now in your lap has been apologizing, but you pay him no mind.

“Go get cleaned up,” the coffeeshop boy immediately moves out of the way, motioning you out of your seat, towards the bathrooms, “I’ll watch your stuff, try to clean it up some, too.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re up in an instant, ignoring the stares of the baristas and the other boys, racing to the back corner of the shop where the two single-person bathrooms reside. You rush into one blindly, trying to calm your erratic heart and the impending panic attack.

It takes you twelve minutes to do so. Three splashes of cool water to the face, two pep talks about how it “wasn’t that bad”, and another whole minute of blankly staring into the mirror at the baby-hairs that frame your face that are now wet and plastered to your cheeks and forehead alike, just wondering where you’ll come up with the money for your damaged textbook.

And laptop. It also got on your laptop, son of a bitch.

You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’d burst into silent tears in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. In front of your coffee shop fantasy crush. You may never recover from that embarrassment, if you’re being honest with yourself.

A small knock comes from the door of the bathroom, forcing you to sigh deeply before gathering up all your composure and broken pride.

“Yeah?” you ask through the crack, hardly opening the door.

It’s Chrissy, standing wide-eyed and hopelessly holding two pieces of clothing in her hand, “Okay, so uh, we don’t have any spare shirts here. But… But I have a spare apron? And a spare jacket? I’m sorry, these are awful options.”

“I…” I’d rather die than wear that apron, or ruin someone’s jacket. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll probably get going anyways.”

“But your shirt is all-” she pauses, and you could burst into tears all over again at the way she scrunches her nose so adorably, “-sticky.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll get all over your car.”

“It’s already all over my stuff. Might as well go big or go home.”

“I owe you a free coffee now, you know that?” Chrissy’s shoulders finally deflate in defeat, accepting your stubbornness as the winning contender, “Next time you come in, probably tomorrow. Whatever you want. It’s on the house, I sw-”

“Damn, now I wish some twerp spilled their mocha cookie whatever all over me,” it’s him – your coffee shop boy. A boy who came to your rescue, a boy who lives in all your bedtime fantasies, and a boy whose name you still don’t know. Chrissy turns and the two of you both look at him, you opening the bathroom door wider despite your embarrassment. He immediately throws up a hand in surrender, “Sorry, I’m, uh- shit, I’m interrupting. But I just… Uh, well. Okay, this is weird. Really weird. You can ban me if this is too weird,” he turns to Chrissy with wide brown eyes, making her immediately cross her arms across her chest defensively, “Seriously, okay? Say the word, I’ll accept my banishment. I just-”

“What’s behind your back?” Chrissy narrows her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the boy hiding something, too busy being enamored by his stumbling words and adorable blush. Fuck. You hated it; you hated the fact that everyone was right, and the real him was even more adorable than you could have anticipated.

He brings his arm out from behind him, and when you see what’s in his clutches, you nearly scream in frustration.

He’s not just more adorable than the fantasized versions of him you’ve created – he’s more thoughtful, too. It spells out trouble for you and your restless, irrevocably romantic heart.

“I keep spare shirts in my van,” he explains sheepishly, “I swear it’s clean. It’s for- well, I… It’s for ‘just in case’ situations. Sort of like this one, I guess.”

Chrissy is quick to take it from him, passing it along to you as she keeps staring him down, “How convenient.”

“Very,” he nearly cowers under her stare, swallowing hard before turning to you, “You don’t have to give it back or anything. You can even burn it, for all I care. It’s just some shirt for… for, uh, some shitty band.”

You don’t think too much about the comment, just shut the door and leave Chris alone with the coffeeshop boy, silently praying she doesn’t tear into him unnecessarily after the act of kindness. You change shirts, dabbing at your chest with wet paper towels between peeling off your coffee-stained blouse and switching it for your coffeeshop boy’s shirt.

Corroded Coffin. It’s not a band you recognize, as you read out the jagged writing of the logo across the front of the black t-shirt. The white font pops and you’re already trying to think of an easy segue into maybe discussing whoever this ‘shitty band’ is with coffeeshop boy rather than the mortifying disaster you’d just endured from a group of young teenage boys who knew no better.

But when you leave the bathroom, that group of scoundrels is gone, along with coffeeshop boy. Chrissy wears an apologetic look over the shoulder of a customer she’s taking the order of at the front counter. It does nothing to wear on the sinking feeling of disappointment in your gut, that deflation at realizing he didn’t wait around for you. The customer pays and leaves the counter, and Chrissy almost looks to be expecting you to stop and say something, but you don’t.

You don’t say a single word. Only rush and gather your things off the table, which are surprisingly clean. Coffeeshop boy did a good job.

Too bad you don’t have the chance to tell him.

Reality, you decide, has something in common with the coffee; it’s always going to end with a bitter bite, no matter how much sweetness you suffocate it with.

—

You don’t return for several days after Wednesday’s incident. Thursday turns to Friday, Friday bleeds into Saturday, and by the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you’re still wallowing in self-pity. Embarrassment has a way of sinking deep into your bones, and no amount of curling up in the center of your bed will make it fade. You try to sit up at your desk and finish some of the revisions you’d been working on that awful day before wearing some kid’s frappucino, but you can’t focus. The pages of your rental textbook are still sticky, your S and K keys now only work half the time, and you can’t find the right study playlist. The atmosphere is wrong, the vibe is wrong, everything is just wrong.

At least you hadn’t resorted to wearing Coffeshop Boy’s shirt. You’d thought about it, of course, but you hadn’t hit that low of a point. Not yet, at least.

Your roommate can’t take it. She insists you get out of the house, simply because your moping is “too fucking sad” to witness. To which you obviously had to retort, “how do you think I feel?”.

So now you’ve been standing outside of your usual Starbucks for five minutes. Squinting like a weirdo through the large, front windows, trying to make out if he was there. Or maybe the ‘twerp’ who had spilled the frappucino. You weren’t looking for a fight – you just needed to avoid every individual who had witnessed the most embarrassing day of your life to date.

“He’s not here,” a voice suddenly says from behind you. You jump a fraction before spinning and catching sight of one of those damn witnesses: Chrissy, “He never comes in on Sundays. You don’t, either, by the way. What gives?”

“I’ve come in on Sundays before,” you deflect.

Chrissy laughs, shaking her head, brushing past you with her green apron rolled up into one of her fists, “No, you haven’t. So I’ll ask again,” she pauses, opening one of the front doors and motioning for you to enter first, “What gives?”

Your feet drag as you walk past her, the lobby eerily quiet. At the very least, she’s right – there’s no sign of your coffeeshop boy. Just some old dude with a newspaper in your usual corner, and a girl with a laptop, seemingly in some sort of video meeting, in coffeeshop boy’s usual spot.

“No hidden romance there, unfortunately,” Chrissy notices your staring and waves between the patrons. Neither so much as look up, “You and Eddie are our store’s only modern Romeo and Juliet.”

“Who?”

“Eddie,” she repeats, watching the realization spread across your face. A smirk appears on her glossy lips as she clarifies anyways, “Your knight-in-shining-armor. The boy you’ve been making heart eyes at for weeks. The dude of your dreams-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut her off, cheeks already warming as you glance again to the girl and the old man. Still no reaction. Your mortification today, it seems, has no audience.

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

The name thrums through your chest, excitement and a twinge of guilt racing through your veins.

Your coffeeshop boy’s name is Eddie.

“I never knew his name,” you whisper quietly, catching yourself staring in the occupied seat that is usually his. “I… Have you known it this entire time?”

Chrissy shakes her head, “No, I asked him Thursday. You know, the first day of your disappearance.”

You can’t even process her slight jab at you, or the way she tilts her chin as she waits for a reaction. You’re too busy thinking about Eddie. Eddie, who doesn’t come here on Sundays. Eddie, who keeps spare t-shirts in his van– Eddie, who drives a goddamn van.

He’s suddenly tangible. It’s dizzying.

“He asked about you, y’know,” Chrissy’s voice is low and you finally glance back to her, “On Thursday. And Friday. He asked about you.”

Eddie, who you’ve been waiting for the day to introduce yourself to. Eddie, who asked about you.

“What’d he ask? Specifically?” you question, taking a deep breath and trying to clear your thoughts.

“If you’d been in, if I’d seen you. He even asked for your name.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Nope,” she grins, blue eyes sparkling, “I figured I’d give you the honor.”

It’s on Sunday that you decide the next day you see coffeshop boy, that you see Eddie, it will be the day. It’s only fair that he knows your name now that you know his, after all.

—

Monday isn’t the day, and neither is Tuesday. You show up to the Starbucks, you take your usual spot, you spend hours studying – Eddie never shows up. Wednesday and Thursday aren’t the days either, filled with finals and celebratory dinners at twenty-four hour diners with friends.

By Friday, you’re missing your coffeeshop romance terribly.

But Friday, as it turns out, isn’t quite as unlucky as the rest of the week. You wake up that morning, and you can feel it in your bones; today’s the day. You’ll see Eddie today. You’ll introduce yourself to Eddie today, without a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappucino soaking your shirt. It’s an acknowledge truth in your bones, maybe even in the stars. Everything is aligning, and you were going to stop spending your days with your head in the clouds. Maybe it would fizz out, and the crush that had kept you on the edge of your seat, that had kept you mildly entertained for months would lead to nothing. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning. A leap of faith into reality that could turn into something real.

When you first show up, you don’t see him. It’s during the tail-end of the morning rush that you make your way in, ordering your usual iced coffee and taking your usual seat with the perfect view of Eddie’s usual seat. Customers filter in and out, a line occasionally forming before the baristas take care of it quickly, but not a single person is the one you’re looking for.

You distract yourself. You busy yourself with pulling out your laptop, glancing over whichever grades have been finalized, pondering over the ones that have yet to be set in stone. Once you’ve beat that horse to death and have nothing left but scholarly anxiety bubbling up, you’ve moved on to making a spreadsheet of all the books you want to read during the summer, with all the free hours you definitely weren’t going to waste, and would totally make use of. You even color code by genre.

You think you have more fun making the spreadsheet than you will enjoy the actual reading over the novels you listed.

Just as you’ve finished your iced coffee, ready to move onto looking at goddamn Yahoo news to entertain yourself, a cup is sat down in front of you. A hot grande cup.

You read the sticker turned towards you before you even spare a glance to the person who’d sat down the drink: a grande Earl Grey tea, sweetened with one packet of honey.

“Chrissy, I only get this when it’s rain-” you start, assuming the barista would be the one standing over your table. It isn’t. It’s coffeeshop boy – it’s Eddie. You can’t help the curse that falls from your lips, “Oh, shit.”

“Sorry,” he bites his lip as if holding back a life, hands nervously shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocks on his heels, “I just… I honestly don’t know what you usually get. But your cup was empty when I walked in, and the one time I got here before you, this was the drink you got, but now that I think about it, it was raining that day and that didn’t even cross my mind-”

Your smile is slow as it uncurls, so saccharine and so enamored as you finally cut off his rambling, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, paling as he stutters out, “Oh, God. I- I’m a creep for remembering that, aren’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice because I know Thursday was so rough-” he cuts off at your subtle wince at the reminder of that entire tragedy, “Sorry. God, how many times can I say sorry, am I right?”

Eddie, who is absolutely fumbling over rambles like a fool when he approaches you to talk to you first. Eddie, who is quickly shaping up to be better than even your wildest dreams.

“First of all,” you start, nervously making eye contact, trying to calm your nerves by reminding yourself he’s an even bigger mess than you right now, “You’re not a creep for remembering that. That’s… it’s really thoughtful, actually,” he breaks out into a restrained smile, the smallest glimpse of relief on his face, so you continue, “And second of all… I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll rain and you saved me some trouble.”

He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and immediately, all frozen awkwardness around the moment shatters. Whatever pedestal you’d set the boy on the last several weeks has crumbled with ease. Reality comes crashing down, and you relish in it.

You relish in the golden streaks through his messy curls, and you drown in the richness of his brown eyes, entrancing this close up. You relish in that dimple in his right cheek, deep enough to swallow you whole as he recollects himself. You relish in the fact that he’s here, it’s Friday, and today is the day.

“There is absolutely rain on the forecast, and you should absolutely just take my word for that and not fact check me,” he jokingly replies, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I know,” you blurt out with thinking, and immediately regret it. You can’t tell if the shock on his face is laced with amusement or not and you panic, desperate to defend yourself, “I- Chrissy told me, I swear. I’m sorry, that was weird, I just-”

He’s the one interrupting apologies now, “It’s okay. Can’t be weirder than knowing a stranger’s rainy day coffee order.”

Grinning. God, you can’t stop grinning, even as you breathe out your name.

“Sorry?” he asks with furrowed brows, hardly catching on to the whispered reveal.

“That’s my name,” you explain before repeating yourself. His cheeks undoubtedly ache the same way yours do, “Now I’m not a stranger. Makes it less weird.”

His smile is downright radiant, and oh, God what you’d given to hear him murmur your name under his breath again in that odd, peculiar manner he just did. As if he’s trying it out, tasting it on his tongue and deciding if it’s worth repeating.

His eyes shine; you have a feeling you will be hearing it again.

“Say, is this seat taken?”

You assume he’s meaning the chair across from you, tucked neatly into the table covered in your belongings, and you immediately shake your head to tell him it’s not, motioning for him to join you.

He wasn’t meaning the chair. He flops himself down beside you on the bench seating, settling into the plastic plush as his thighs brush against yours.

“So,” he starts, propping his elbow up on the table beside your laptop, resting his chin on his fist,“Tell me about yourself, not-stranger.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he answers, making your heart clench, “But maybe, let’s just start with your coffee order for days that aren’t rainy.”

Hours. You and Eddie spend hours talking. The baristas behind the counter rotate, the sun eventually sets, and you don’t even notice when clouds form and light spatters of rain spit out onto the sidewalk outside. You dive headfirst into reality with Eddie, and it’s like the first breath of Spring.

He wakes you up in a way no shot of espresso ever could. It’s as if something deep inside of you had been sleeping for so long, you’d forgotten it existed until he magically awoke it. Something shining, something wonderful, something new. Something real.

Everyone was right. The tangible Eddie is infinitely better than the idea of coffeeshop boy.

“You know,” you’ve drained your earl grey, laptop long since closed as your body mirrors Eddie’s and twists until your kneecaps press against each other. His arm rests casually along the back of the seat just over your right shoulder, “I’m still curious who Corroded Coffin is. I know you said they’re shitty, but-”

“Oh, God,” Eddie throws his head back in laughter, running his free hand over his face, “So, uh, funny story.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Funny story?”

“Yes. Hilarious, actually,” he affirms, “Corroded Coffin is… uh, well… Corroded Coffin is my band.”

You can’t stop the snort, realization dawning on you. That’s why Eddie had the spare shirt in his van – it’s his own damn merch.

“I’m going to pretend you’re laughing with me, not at me,” he hums, leaning back and watching your giggles continue to hit you in waves.

“I am-” you start to reassure, broken off by another gasping laugh that even has him chuckling along, “I am, I swear! I just… Why would you tell me you guys are shitty?”

“A bad joke,” he hums, waving his free hand, chuckles still lingering at the edge of his tone, “I tend to tell a lot of those around pretty people.”

Pretty people. He thinks you’re pretty.

“Yeah?” you choke out, laughter abruptly fading as the realization hits you.

He thinks you’re pretty.

“Yeah.”

Oh, God. He thinks you’re pretty. He’s in a band. He remembered the drink you got on a rainy day ages ago (him forgetting the rainy detail can be forgiven because he remembered without even knowing your name). He smells like spice, like everything kind and gentle and warm. It mixes so well with the smell of the coffee already in the air, you wouldn’t have noticed it was his cologne unless you hadn’t spent a better part of the hour leaning in closer and closer to him, the scent getting stronger and stronger.

Maybe reality can be sweet. Maybe it’s not always bitter.

“You know, we have a show coming up,” he continues on, tilting his head at you curiously, “Tomorrow night, actually.”

“You do?” you ask dumbly, not catching on, not yet.

He nods, the corners of his lips curling up, “Yeah. It’s at this venue not far from here, a small bar. It’s not much but it’s an upgrade from where we started…” he trails off, eyes diverting to the wall behind you and across the store, “Uh, you obviously don’t have to… but, I mean, if you’re not busy, I could always add your name to the guest list. It’s no pressure, obviously! I mean, you don’t have to go, it’s just an id-”

“I’d love to,” you stop him with a hand on his knee, grounding him from the returning rambling, “Tell me when and where tomorrow night, and I’ll be there.”

Your heart might just burst.

“Right,” he seems to still entirely beneath your touch, eyes darting down to where your hand rests, “Yeah. I can write it down for you-”

“Or I could give you my number.”

“Or you could give me your number.”

You’re both grinning, blushing fools. He takes a second, just staring at you, seemingly in awe, before you have to remove your hand from his knee and put your palm up as a signal for him to hand over his phone.

He nearly drops it in his flurry to get it into your waiting hand, bouncing his knee the entire time it takes you to put in your contact information. You make a point to add a coffee cup emoji after your name.

“Hey, guys,” the two of you are suddenly interrupted just as you’re giving his phone back. It’s the barista from last Monday – the new one, the one who’d taken your order when you’d been convinced that would be the day you were going to speak to Eddie. Funny how clueless you had been at the time, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you guys know that we close in about ten minutes.”

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie gasps, sitting up straight as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sorry, man. We’re heading out.”

The new guy’s eyes light up ever so slightly, shrugging off the apology and just nodding with a polite smile.

You wonder if you’ll even get the chance to break the news to Chrissy. Something tells you she’ll be finding out before you see her again.

The boy retreats, and you’re quick to grab your laptop and move to shove it into your bag. Eddie stands and waits, unbothered and encouraging you to take your time before you swing the heavy bag over your shoulder.

Eddie, the boy who’s show you’ll be going to. Eddie, the boy who now has your number.

You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of his name echoing through your mind.

“Thank you again,by the way,” you say as you pick up that empty grande cup, turning for the trash, “The tea was good, even though-”

It’s raining. It’s steadily sprinkling outside, trees shifting with a gentle and stormy breeze. You can tell easily, even with the darkness of the evening having fallen. There’s rogue raindrops racing their ways down the window in front of you. Your reflection stares back faintly, and over your shoulder, you can see Eddie smile shyly.

“It’s raining,” you murmur.

“I told you,” Eddie says softly, “It was on the forecast. Also, I might have noticed the clouds building up on the drive over.”

You turn to face him slowly, heart thumping against your ribs, “Did you… You knew it was my rainy day drink, didn’t you?”

He blinks once, twice, before swallowing hard and nodding, “I did.”

“How?”

“I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did hear them call it out that one time. Also, you always have a hot drink especially when it’s raining.”

He looks like he might pass out from embarrassment, but you just let a grin overtake your features, “Oh?”

“Like I said, it’s creepy. Do I need to apologize again? I can apologize again.”

Oh, your grin grows.

“What else did you notice?”

“Excuse me?”

You shrug, “What else did you notice about me? For example, I’ve always noticed your rings. Also, you listen to your music far too loudly. You’re gonna go deaf one of these days, you know.”

He melts, color returning back to his features as he realizes you’re not upset or creeped out, “You noticed me before the other day?”

“I did,” you try to downplay it, keep an even tone as your heart screams, “And it sounds like you noticed me too.”

A boyish grin and two steps forward, he’s approaching you and evading your space with that warm smell of spice once more.

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, ears and bridge of his nose alike tinged in a spackling of pink, “I noticed the faces you made whenever you’d work on math homework. And the way you’d cringe every time I turned up my music. And the way Chrissy never stopped teasing you, the same way she’d tease me on the days you weren’t here.”

“Wow,” you sigh, looking back down at that empty cup. That goddamn empty cup that just revealed to you that he thought of you just as you’d thought of him, “We’re idiots.”

That feeling that still rings in your bones. No longer just the feeling that today is the day, but that there’s more good things to come. There are lazy Sunday mornings to be had, relaxing Thursday nights to enjoy. There are tangible things to have and to hold in your future, materializing right out of nonsensical ideas you’d clung to just days before.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs in agreement as you toss the cup into the trash, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ idiots. Don’t tell Chrissy, capiche?”

Today was the day. Today was just the beginning.

“Capiche.”

It’s not until a month later, when you and Eddie come in together on one of your slow Sunday mornings, that Chrissy gets her I told you so moment. After the shock of seeing her two favorite customers on a Sunday, of course.

#3k celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #see? i still write!#proof i'm literate

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russellsppttemplates · 6 days

Text

I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)

People seem to forget you're dating Oscar

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: jealous themes

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.

"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.

"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.

"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.

"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.

"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.

"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.

"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.

"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.

Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.

"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.

"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.

"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.

You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.

When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.

"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.

Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.

"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.

"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.

"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.

"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".

Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.

"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.

"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.

"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".

"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.

"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.

"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.

"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".

"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.

"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".

Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.

Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.

By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.

You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.

Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match

I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together

She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother

Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend

I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver

Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship

She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her

She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?

These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that

The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.

The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.

"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.

"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.

"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.

"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.

"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.

"Yes!", you answered loudly.

"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.

"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".

"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".

Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.

"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.

"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.

"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.

"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.

"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.

"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.

"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.

"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".

Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".

The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.

"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.

"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.

"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.

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