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#she had one free weekend for the rest of the year and used it to hard launch her breakup

kaijutegu · 2 months

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Yesterday, I went to Baltimore with the intention of visiting a friend in hospice. Her health had taken a sharp nosedive over the weekend, and on Monday evening, the doctors said she maybe had a week left.

What actually happened was I went to Baltimore to help clean out her stuff, because she died at 8:44 on Tuesday morning and my plane didn't land until 8:50. So me and another friend helped another friend/her roommate (before hospice) find important documents, as well as save sentimental items for her actual loved ones because her family, well.

Her friends were her family. But because she died intestate, the people in her family of choice were entitled to nothing under the law. Instead of her beloved, disabled partner, her estranged family has legal rights to her savings bonds and the rest of her estate. (Sometimes common-law partners can inherit but they weren't together long enough to meet that criterion.)

I knew this was coming for a long time. You don't recover from the brain cancer she had. But it still really hurts. And knowing that people she hadn't spoken to in years are getting that money instead of the person she loved most... well, that hurts too.

Please, if you don't have one already, make a will. It's not hard. We don't like to think about it, because nobody likes thinking about post-death legal matters, but you need to make a will. If you're in the US, you can use websites like Free Will. You don't need an estate attorney or anything like that. In many states, a notarized letter is fine. I don't know enough about international estate law to say anything in that regard, but take half an hour to google estate laws in your jurisdiction and put together a will.

If something happened to you tomorrow, who do you want taking care of your pets? Do you have a collection of anything that you want looked after? Do you want your money to go to a person, a charity, or something else specific? If you don't have kids, everything reverts to a spouse. If you don't have a spouse, it goes to your parents. I know I don't want to burden my parents with figuring out what to do with my tegu, my skeletal collection, or my library. But if I died tomorrow, my will would take care of all of that. Thinking about mortality isn't fun, but dying intestate is worse. Make a will.

#death cw #her name was Constance but we all called her Corn #I met her in 2006 on an art adoptable sub forum of an anime forum and we'd been friends ever since #can you even begin to imagine how many of my most important relationships came from of all places gaia online and tungl.hell #it's so many

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

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Smash. (dbf!Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, heeeeeefty age gap (reader is 21, Price is 47), teasing, daddy kink, rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mutual pining, this is filthy age gap Smut and you’ve been warned. (Sorry if I missed any.)

Summary: Captain Price is your dads best friend and you’ve been crushing on him since you were a little girl.

I know this isn’t a request but I’m procrastinating :)

“Oh come on sweet pea, you haven’t been home for a family barbecue in three years now!” Your dad begs you on the phone. You’ve been off at college for three whole years. You haven’t made too much time to come visit, but there’s a reason for that.

Your step mom.

She’s awful. Uses your dad for his money, cheats on him constantly. At this point, you think she’s just a cover for something. You sigh, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Fine. But you better keep your hound on a leash.” You groan. “Hey. Be nice Y/N.” He rolls his eyes on the other end of the phone. “She doesn’t show her teeth, I don’t bite.” You smile cheekily. He can’t see it, but he can hear it. “Oh lord. What I would do without you.” He laughs. “Live a happy, stress free life.” You giggle. He laughs on the other end. “I’ll see you on Saturday sweet pea. Don’t forget, we had a pool put in since you last came, don’t forget your bathing suit!” He smiles. “Alright dad, I’ll be there. Love you, bye.” You laugh as you hang up the phone.

“That girl, gonna be the death of me.” Your dad smiles as he hangs up the phone. He’s sitting at a table with his best friend of twenty plus years, Captain John Price. “Is that Y/N?” He smiles. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to get her to come home for the barbecue this weekend. Finally got her to agree.” He laughs. John nods his head, taking a drink of his beer. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.” He smiles. “You’ll see her this Saturday. She’s been nothing but a pain in my ass for these last few years. Since she was 17, I think.” He laughs. “How so? I don’t have any kids so I don’t really know how they work.” John laughs. “Oh boy. She’s just a young woman. Moody, bossy. The girl has been boy crazy since she was 15.” He laughs. Placing a hand over his face. “Absolutely hates her step mom. Every time they’re both in the same room together I just want to strangle them both.” He rolls his eyes, tipping his beer up. “Although these last couple years she’s been super wild. Going out drinking, getting herself into trouble. I’ve seen more than 2 boys on her stupid Instagram she doesn’t know that I know about.” He sighs. John nods. “You think you were maybe too strict with her?” He asks. “Probably. But you live and you learn I guess.” He laughs. John finishes lthe rest of his beer.

You turn the wheel toward the parking lot of your apartment complex. It’s only about 30 minutes away from where your dad is, but you’ve been busy with school. Your car comes to a halt as you climb out, gathering all of your items and heading upstairs to your room. You pick up your phone, dialing your best friends number. “Hey.” You smile. “Hey Y/N, what’s up?” She asks. “You know how I’ve told you about the family barbecue’s I’ve had in the past?” You say. “Oh. You mean the one day a year you spend ogling at your dads best friend that I’ve heard alllll about?” She chuckles, making you blush. “Yeah, my dad convinced me to go and they installed a pool last year. So.. we need to go bathing suit shopping.” You mumble. “Is this finally the year?” She smirks. “Hopefully. You should come with me, get a good look at him.” You smile. “Alright. I’m down. I’ll come get you in 20 for the mall.” You smile. “Okay.” After saying your goodbye’s, you hang up.

When she arrives, you gather up everything you need, walking down the old metal stairs to your apartment. Feeling them buckle underneath you slightly, yeah the apartment you lived in wasn’t too up to date. But it was nice.

Your dad was really strict, and this time you’d spent away at college had been the most fun you’ve ever had. He wasn’t monitoring your every move, couldn’t tell you what to do 24/7, and you could come and go anytime you wanted. No curfew. Maybe it had to do with your dad being a retired military man. But he was strict and sometimes he could get a little mean. Everyone knew it, and nobody was surprised when you left. You open the door to her car, sitting down and closing the door after you pull your leg in. You put your seatbelt on and start talking about anything random as she pulls out of your apartment complex to head toward the mall. The drive is pretty short, it passes by incredibly quick because of the small talk you’re making. She pulls into the parking lot and the both of you make your way inside to your favorite stores.

When you finish shopping, you make your way into the food court, choosing what you want to eat. Eventually, the both of you are just sitting down at a small table. Listening to everyone else talking around you.

“So what’s so special about this guy anyways Hm? How old is he?” You blush at her question. “Oh god. How old is he?!” She laughs. “47.” You mumble. “Jesus! He’s older than your dad!” She laughs. “Yeah I know. And.. I don’t know. Ever since I was old enough to understand what a crush was, it was always him.” You shrug. She smiles. “Even still?” She asks. “Yeah. I’ve had one boyfriend that lasted like 2 months. That’s it.” You smirk. Taking a bite of your food. She smiles. “Because you’ve been so in love with this guy? Shit. You were legal 3 years ago, why didn’t you try sooner?” She asks. “When I was 18 I got into a big fight with my dad and I haven’t been home since.” You laugh. She nods her head. “Gotcha.”

“Also not to mention he’s a Captain in the Military.” You laugh. Her eyes widen. “Damn. I don’t know him but I’m in love with him too.” She laughs. “You will be.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.

—

The day of the Barbecue approached fast, and your best friend canceled on you because she was sick. You were driving alone, nervous. Anxious to see John again. Your stomach was curled up, waves of nervousness shooting through you. You hadn’t gotten over these feelings that you’d had for him for a long time, you thought you would. But now? You were convinced they’d never go away. At this point you knew it was more than just a dumb crush, but admitting that meant defeat and you wouldn’t yet. You wouldn’t cave just yet. As a little girl you dreamt of him day and night. Never boys your age, not even in high school when you hit puberty and had a crush on everyone. Nobody stuck. Nobody but John. Your dads best friend who was completely out of your reach.

You pulled into the driveway and noticed cars already in the driveway, pulling up as close to the car in front of you as possible. You hop out, deep breath leaving your lips as you start for the backyard where you could hear everyone. You open the gate, the loud creak that it makes gives away your arrival and all eyes are on you. There’s nothing but silence for a minute until your dad hollers that you’re here. He rushes over and gives you a hug and a lot of the already tipsy women start commenting on how much you’ve grown up, how you’re a woman now and not just a kid. When you’re done being bombarded by everyone, you spot John sitting in a lawn chair, beer in his hand. “Come on sweetheart. I’ll show you what we got to drink.” Your dad smiles. You dig through the cooler and end up grabbing a beer. You’d need the liquid courage to get you through this entire day. You followed your dad over to where he’s sitting and smile at John. “Hey Kiddo.” John smiles. “Hey John. How are you?” You smile. “I’m good. You?”

“Good. Just going to school.” You blush. He’s so perfect. So fucking attractive. You just want to jump him right in front of everyone here. You talk a little more with him before your dad calls him away from you to talk about something else with the grill.

You get caught up in conversation with a few other women there, avoiding your step-mom like she’s the plague.

—

A sigh leaves your lips. You’re sitting at a table inside, drinking a beer. You’ve had a little too much to drink, feeling a little tipsy. Everyone is already passed out or gone home. Tonight did not go the way you wanted it to go. You wanted to talk to John more. Wanted so badly to get to know him more. You’ve pretty much given up on it. Sure he’s probably already gone home for the night. You hear the sliding glass door open and your step-mom walks in. “Y/N. Will you please go keep John company? Your dad is drunk and I need to take him to bed.” You nod your head. Those are the first words she’s spoken to you all day. You stand up, going out to the back yard. There’s an older woman, her husband, and John left. “Hey sweetheart.” She smiles. “Hey.” You smile. You sit on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water. John is in the pool and she’s laying on the concrete. “Howcome you’re here all alone sweets?” He asks. “Oh.. I don’t know. I invited a friend to come but she wasn’t feeling too good.” You explain. She nods. “You don’t gotta boyfriend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh god no.” You laugh. She looks at you. “Why’s that?”

“I’m surrounded by college guys, not exactly a fan.” You smile. John is listening, intrigued. “Your dad keeps talking about the boys on your secret Instagram.” She smiles. “Secret?” You smile. “I don’t have a secret Instagram.” You laugh. “Oh, he talks about it.” She smiles. You look confused. “Weird. The only guys I have on there are friends.” You laugh. “Just friends?” You nod your head. “Yeah. I need to take down those pictures down actually.” You laugh. “Why’s that?” She smiles. “They always pretend to be my friends and than they get weird. Catch feelings or something.” You laugh. “It’s cause you’re a real pretty girl. They probably just want a piece.” She smiles. “It’s always after they find out I’m a Virgin.” You mumble. John almost chokes on his bourbon that he has, eyes widening. His body is rigid. She laughs. “Wow. That’s actually kind’ve impressive.” She smiles.

After talking a little more, she drags her husband home. Leaving you and John alone. Something that makes your stomach flutter. “The advice she was giving you. Don’t take it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You look up at him. “She.. is a little..” he waves his finger by his ear. You giggle. He notices the way you react to him. “You’re a real pretty girl you know? Don’t rush into anything. Find a guy who will treat you right.” He nods. You nod your head. You pull your shirt off, sliding into the water. You give him a good view of your bathing suit. “Can I ask you for some advice?” You bite your bottom lip. He nods his head. “Yeah, Cmere.” He nods his head. You swim closer to him, leaning up against the wall where he’s sitting. “What’s up?” He asks. You sigh. “Do you think I’m immature?” You ask. He narrows his eyes. “No. I don’t think so at all. I think you’re actually pretty mature for your age.” He smiles. You nod your head. “Why?” He asks. “Well.. I like this guy but.. he’s quite a bit older than me.” You blush. “How much older?” He asks.

“I don’t know if I should say..” you blush. “No older than your dad I hope.” He chuckles. You look down, crimson creeping up your cheeks. His eyes widen and he coughs on his liquor. “Jesus- how much older?” He asks, wiping his face. “Few years..” you mumble. “Older than me?” He asks. “Around the same age I think.” You breathe. “Just… don’t tell my dad on me, please?” You bite your lip nervously. He laughs, looking down. “What the hell do you want with a guy my age anyways? Do I know him?” He asks. You blush, looking down. “Yeah. Pretty well actually. I’ve liked him for a while.” You breathe. He laughs. “Jesus Christ.” He breathes. He runs a hand over his facial hair, seeing the way that the water drips off of him has you clenching your thighs together. “You have any advice?” You say nervously. He looks down. “Don’t go for it.” He laughs. “Hm?” You say. “Men my age will only take advantage of you.” You’ve moved closer and closer to him. “Would you take advantage of me?” You swallow hard, looking up at him. The way you look up at him is far from innocent. “I-“ he freezes. “John?” You whisper. “Yeah?”

You swallow hard. “Would you?” You breathe. He looks down. You’ve crept even closer to him, and when you’re right in front of him, he’s losing his mind. You breathe. His eyes widen and he’s silent for a minute. He sets his glass down, reaching his hands out and grasping your hips. He pins you to the concrete wall of the pool, hand resting on your throat. “You’re a good girl. Such a good girl, you don’t need to be with a guy my age.” He breathes. You whimper, tilting your head back. The way that you react to him shows him more than he needs. He moves his hips closer to yours and you clutch his sides for dear life, whimpering out when he ruts his hips into yours. He spins you around, until you’re leant over the pool wall. Crying out when he tugs on your hair. “Who is it darlin?” He breathes. “Because the way you’re reacting to me…” he trails offs. You’re panting out, he’d thrown you for a curveball. Sending you straight into a daze. “Use your words love.” He growls. The feel of his hips pressing into you, his hands on you. “It’s you- since I was a kid-“ you pant. Your eyes are watering, wanting so badly for his hands to be on you. Just as his fingertips graze over your bathing suit between your legs, breath hitching in your throat, he pulls away. “Look at me.” He helps spin you around. “As bad as I want to… Your dad is my best friend.” He breathes. You nod your head, as bad as it hurts you, you understand. You’re still breathing hard, as he creates a few more inches of distance, reaching out to run his finger along your bottom lip, loving the way you react to him, parting your lips even more. Closing your eyes and tilting your head back just slightly. It’s a small gesture but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You swipe your tongue over his thumb. The taste of his skin is amazing, even when it’s mixed with chlorine.

He bites his lip, pulling his hand away. “Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. It’s quiet, you almost miss it. When he says it, your body lights on fire. Having him touch you, his hands on you. It’s almost too much for you to handle. When you finally pull yourself out of the trance like state he’d put you in, he’s moved a couple feet away from you. Which is perfect timing. Your step mom makes her way out of the back door, sending John a smile. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go.” You narrow your eyes at her. “What?” You ask. “It’s nearing nine, you need to head on home.” She crosses her arms. “Uh.. I think she’s been drinking.” John looks at you. “That’s not my problem, she’s not welcome to stay here. Our guest bedroom is my office now anyways.” You roll your eyes and John can see the attitude on your face as you look up at her. “Have a good night John.” She smiles at him. “Remember, the couch is always open.” John expects you to be a little more upset than you are. But you aren’t. You step out of the pool mumbling out a “fucking bitch.” Under your breath. John smiles at your aggression. “I can give you a ride home?” John asks. “I’m sure I’ll be fine John, besides, I think you’ve had more to drink than me.” You laugh, wrapping a towel around you. He smiles, climbing out of the pool. His body is soaked, drips of water sliding down his chest. You want to drool at the sight of him. sliding a t-shirt on. His cargo shorts were soaked but he didn’t care. “Honey, I’ve got twenty plus years of drinking on you.” He laughs. “Takes a lot to get me drunk.” You smile. John is about to offer again, the door opens. This time it’s your dad. “Hey. I didn’t know you guys were still here.” He smiles. “Yeah. I would’ve stayed longer but Y/N caught the wrath of your wife.” John raises his eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

“Told Y/N she wasn’t welcome to stay.”

Your dad looks down at his feet. Glancing back at the door. “She’s just.. in her own space. You know? You understand, right Y/N?” He says. Your lips part slightly. “Cmon Y/N. You can stay at my house.” John nods his head. You send your dad a death glare, following after John. “Oh and uh.. it’s not really my place, but letting your daughter who’s been drinking drive home on her own and choosing a woman over your own kid.. dick move.” John shakes his head at him, sliding his hand over your lower back and walking through the wooden gate with you.

He walks you out to a large truck in the driveway, it’s brand new, shiny black with leather seats. He opens the door for you, helping you up inside. He rests his hand on your thigh until you’re settled, closing the door once you’re inside. He makes his way around the front, opening up his side and climbing in. He starts it, backing up out of the driveway. The way his hands grip around the steering wheel, veins popping out on his hands. He’s sexy, it’s hard to ignore. You bite your lip, clenching your eyes shut. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the throbbing between them. John feels bad. He’s upset by the fact that your own dad treats you that way, and allows his wife to treat you like that. What bothers him the most? Is how unbothered you are by it. How you seem so used to it, you don’t even care anymore. “You don’t deserve that, you know?” He mumbles. He reaches his hand across the center console, resting his hand on your bare thigh. His hand is warm against your cold skin, and for once in your life, you could give that stupid bitch a hug for doing what she did. She got you alone with John Price. The guy you’ve been crushing on since you were a kid. “I know, but it’s normal to me. You see why I haven’t showed up for any gatherings?” You smile. He nods his head. “Yeah, definitely. I had a lot of respect for your dad until tonight, can’t believe that.” He rolls his eyes. “Like your little attitude you threw, bet you’ve got more fire in you than that.” A giggle leaves your lips, and he smiles at it. “Oh yeah. She’s brought out the absolute worst in me.” You smile. He gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, not missing the way that you slide down into the seat unintentionally. Your body was begging for his touch, wanting his his hand to creep up just a little bit higher.

John pulls into his driveway, quickly climbing out and making his way around the truck to your side. “Sorry, haven’t got the running boards for it yet. They’re on back order.” He explains. “That’s okay, I can jump.” You giggle. John helps you down from the seat, fingertips lingering a little longer than they should on your hips. John feels his phone vibrate in his hand, ignoring it as he leads you up to the front door. When you step inside, you smile. He’s got a very nice house. “Wow. It’s really pretty in here.” You smile. “Pretty?” He laughs. “Yeah, pretty. I like it.” He passes you a hoodie he’d been wearing earlier that morning. Assuming you had no other clothes to sleep in. You thank him, and he shows you to the bathroom so that you can change. He changes too, finishing before you. He sits down on his couch, finally taking a moment to look at his phone. It’s a message from your dad.

I don’t appreciate what you said about what happened today. Involving yourself in our business. What happens between my family is to stay within my family.

John thinks for a while about a reply. But eventually decides to just leave it alone and ignore him. He’s pissed off. You don’t deserve it. This was an entire new side of your dad that he’d never seen before. A side John didn’t like at all, it really made him want to re-evaluate his entire friendship. He no longer had the same respect for the man he did originally. The best thing about him was his daughter. You. John thinks for a minute. Running his fingers over his facial hair. You come back from the bathroom, wearing only his sweatshirt. As you pass by him, he stops you, grasping onto your knee and pulling you in front of him. “John…” you mumble. “What are you doing?” You mumble. “Just.. admiring you sweetheart.” He looks up at you, pulling you into him. Looking at you. You look down at him, biting your lip nervously. He grasps your thighs, tugging you further. You straddle his hips and his fingers slide up your bare thighs. Sliding slightly under the sweatshirt. He expects to feel panties, or your bathing suit, but his eyes widen when he feels nothing. He brings his hand between your legs. “I thought..” you pant, clutching onto his shoulder. “I thought you said you-“ he cuts you off when his fingertips touch your opening for the first time, the first time you’d ever been touched by a man. A gasp leaves your lips and you’re soaking wet. Coating his fingers when he’s barely even touched you. You like him more than he thought. “Yeah, maybe what your dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He smirks. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart.” He rubs gentle circles over your clit, making you moan out, rocking your hips into his touch.

“John?” You mewl. He looks at you, a smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Will you have sex with me?” You whimper. He swallows hard. “But you’re a virgin sweet girl.” You nod your head. “I know- but I’ve saved it for you.” You breathe out. “I only want you John. I want you to take it.” You rock your hips into his hand more, body shaking at the intensity of him touching you. Your skin is hot against him. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. He bites his lip. He wraps his hands around your waist, lifting you up. He walks down the hallway to his bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot and laying you down on his bed. “I don’t have condoms or anything.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You breathe. “I want to feel all of you.” You breathe. Your desperation is turning him on. Nobody has ever shown him anything like this. John hasn’t been with a woman since he was in his mid twenties, and he gave up on relationships and women. Trashed the idea completely. But you.. you came into the picture. Pretty black bathing suit. Smooth skin, innocent eyes that helped conceal such a dirty little secret. So young and pretty, and you wanted him. You were desperate for him. Begging him to take your virginity even. John’s breathing is a little sporadic, he’s nervous too. It’s been so long. He doesn’t even really remember sex. You make him feel young again, and he’s a little worried he might ruin this.

He keeps touching you. Kissing and biting at your skin, running his fingers over your opening and eventually sliding them into your slick hole. Sliding them in and out of you, scissoring them until you’re squirming, begging him for more. The way you say his name. Caught somewhere between a moan and a mewl, it kicks his body into overdrive. His cock is rock hard, throbbing against his leg. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Nothing ever really got to John anymore. Not until now. “Do you think you’re ready for me, princess?” He smiles down at you. You’re completely naked now, tits on full display for him to tease. He’s been toying with them for a while, sucking and swirling his tongue around them. You’re soaked, body begging for him. You nod your head eagerly. He pumps his cock, using your wetness to help lubricate himself. He lines himself up with your entrance and you keep your legs spread for him. He watches you for any discomfort or any signs that you’re going to stop him, but you don’t. You hold your legs open, biting your lip. Excited that he’s going to take your virginity. Your pussy is wet enough, he doesn’t have to stretch you too much. You feel slight pinching as he inches deeper and deeper into you, but a moan leaves your lips when he bottoms out. Your hands jumping to clutch at his bed sheets. “Are you okay?” You nod your head. “Yes- yes!” You whimper. “I feel so full.” You whimper. Your eyes are watering slightly and it hurts more than you want to admit, he can tell. But you’re so excited to be having sex with him, those fantasies you’ve been having for so many years finally coming true, and they’re so much better than you ever thought they’d be. He rocks his hips back and fourth, hearing you cry out as he does. He smirks. Hoping you don’t notice how much he’s enjoying seeing you such a mess.

You’re crying after a few thrusts, tears streaming down your face at the overstimulation you feel. It only took you a few minutes to cum for the first time, his thumb moving back and fourth against your clit until you started crying, and he finally let go. Him giving your body what you had so desperately wanted, for so long. Your body gave into him right away, tightening around him and soaking his cock. He bites his lip, thrusting into you still. “So pretty..” he smirks. “That’s it.. cry for me sweet girl.” He bites his lip, thrusting a bit harder than he had before. Another sob leaves your lips, your body shaking. “I’m gonna cum again!” You cry. He leans down into you. “Look at me sweetheart.” He breathes. You look up at him. “Watch me when you cum.” You lazily nod your head, eyes watery. Your tears are shiny in the moonlight dipping through the curtains and his lower stomach is clenching up tight. Knot wound up in his stomach. A cry leaves your lips, your fingers gripping onto the sheets tightly as you cum again, this time, he groans out. Hips stuttering to a stop as he finishes inside of you. The feeling of you clenching down around him is too much. And he rests his head on your chest. You run your hands through his hair, something you had dreamt about doing for so long. He’s panting, coming down from his high. “Fuck.. did so good for me sweetheart.” He breathes. He collapses on top of you with a groan. Once he relaxes, he slides out of you with a gasp. He lays next to you, holding onto your hand. You’re panting hard. He stares up at the ceiling, in shock. He just took your virginity, his best friends daughter.

He took it, your virginity.

He blushes hard as he stares up, still in shock. No woman has shown John any attention in years, how lucky is he that a woman as pretty as you likes him? Let him touch you even. He sits up, getting up to clean himself up. He takes a deep breath, drinking the sight of you in. You look so pretty in his bed. When he finishes cleaning up, he cleans you up the best he can. He slides his hoodie onto you, trying not to wake you up. He lays down, pulling a blanket over the both of you, pulling you into him. Your hair smells amazing and he breathes out, feeling an ache in his chest. Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he wonders. What happens if he falls in love with you?

The next morning, you wake up to his side of the bed being empty. You sit up, groaning as the muscles in your legs and lower stomach burn. He really did a number on you last night. You rub your eyes tiredly, taking a deep breath. Your cheeks are burning, the thoughts from last night running through your head. You’re going to have to face him again, see him. The man who took your virginity. The man who you’ve had feelings for forever, that you could no longer hide. Just as you’re about to stand up, John walks in. He’s holding a glass of water. “Here.” He smiles, passing it to you. He holds his other hand out, he’s holding something. You open your hand and he places medicine in it. “I know you’re probably sore, baby.” He runs his hand up your thigh. You take the medicine, drinking some of the water. When you’re finished, he takes it from your hand and sets it down. “There’s coffee in the kitchen too. I made it.” You smile. You go to stand up, but your knees buckle underneath you. He catches you before you topple to the ground, a gasp leaving your lips. You can feel his warmth from the night before spilling out of you.

“What? Are you okay?” He asks. “I.. yeah. Just..” you look down. He swallows hard when he sees it. “I tried to clean you up the best I could…” he mumbles. “Fuck that’s so hot baby.. I need to walk away.” He laughs. You look up at him, seeing he’s turned his head. “You don’t have to..” you mumble. He looks at you, eyebrows raised. “You.. want me to fuck you again?” He blushes, trying to hide it. You cover your face with the sleeve of his hoodie, blushing. He smiles, reaching forward and pulling it away from you face. “All you had to do was ask baby.” He smiles, reaching for the buckle on his belt. He’s already dressed. You’re blushing hard, avoiding eye contact. He chuckles at you. “Blush for me princess, makes you so cute.” He leans down, his nose nudging against yours. He grasps your thighs and slides you to the edge of the bed, pushing his jeans down his legs enough to where he can get closer to you. When he slides in, you gasp. It feels much more intense than the night before. He tilts his head back, swallowing hard. His adams apple bobs and you blush even harder, moaning as he rocks his hips into yours. You’re still covering your face with the sleeve and he grasps both of your hands, leaning over you to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me..” he moans. “You’re so fucking pretty baby, such a pretty girl.” He gasps. Hips rocking into yours. He’s trying not to be too rough, he knows you’re sore. Your hair sprawled out on his bed, it’s something he wants to see forever. He knows you’re young and as selfish as it’d be of him. He needs to make you his. No matter what it takes.

—

The cup of coffee in your hand is heavenly, he was a master at making coffee. The seat in his truck is warming up, and you’re comfortable as he drives to your dads house. When he pulls up, you look confused. “Where is my car?” You ask. John shrugs. “Don’t know. That’s weird.” Your growl. Opening the door to his truck. “That fucking bitch.” You mumble. John grasps hold of the column shifter, throws his truck in park and gets out, following after you to the front door. He holds back a smirk when he sees you walking with a slight limp, legs still shaky. So bold yet so weak for him. You knock on the door and tilt one of your hips out, resting your hand on it. He likes it. Angry mom behavior.

Your dad and Step-mom answer the door, giving you a surprised look. “Hey Y/N.” Your dad smiles. “Where is my car?” You ask. He looks at your step-mom. “I thought you said she came and got it earlier?” He asks. She pouts. “I’m sorry, it was in my way so I had it towed.” He laughs. “Oh that’s okay sweetheart. I’m sure she’ll understand.” You’re fuming and John can see it. “No, it’s not fucking okay. Are you kidding me?” You’re seething. “Watch your mouth young lady.” Your dad warns. “Or else what? Huh? What the fuck do you have in mind exactly? Kick me out? Say I’m not welcome? Pick your stupid whore of a wife over me? Oh wait.” You roll your eyes. “You’re paying for these goddamn fees.” You point a finger at her. “Hey, Y/N. It’s okay. I can give you a ride home for now.” John reaches out to grasp your arm. “John..” you groan. “It’s not your responsibility.” You mumble. “It’s my fault for trusting my car over night with a lying, cheating, skank, whore roaming around.” You growl, taking a step toward her. John steps forward, pulling you back. “Come on, I’ll take you home Y/N.” John tries to tug you away but you don’t budge. “She’s a big girl John. Let her fight her own battles.” Your dad looks at him. John crosses his arms, looking unimpressed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t let her fight this one. She looks like she’s about to tear your wife’s face off.” John looks at him. “This is none of your business.”

“Y/N is my business now.”

Your dad looks at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. John can see the little devil in your eyes. “You let your daughter go home with a man twice her age, what do you think that means, hm?” You smirk. His eyes move back and fourth between you and John. He shakes his head. “John wouldn’t do that. He respects me too much.”

“No, I don’t respect you at all after last night and today. You treat your own daughter like shit.”

Your dad looks at him. “Yeah but that doesn’t mean that you’d..” the smirk on your lips. The hint of mischief in John’s eyes. “You slept with my daughter?” Your dad is fuming. John swipes his hand off on his jeans. “Yeah. I fucked her. Took her virginity actually. Made her cum all over my cock. And you know what my favorite thing is actually?” He pauses. “When I fuck her again, tonight. I’m gonna make her call me daddy too.” Your dad is still fuming. “You mother-“ your step mom stops him. “It’s okay, just forget about her.” She mumbles. “Cmon John.” You grasp his arm, finally pulling him away. You both get into his truck.

John drives for a minute, pulling off of the road onto a back road, where nobody can see anything. You’re silent for the whole ride, and after he parks, you finally take a deep breath. “Holy fuck I can’t believe that.” You say, eyes wide. “Yeah I know.. I took it too far I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighs. “Are you serious?” You look at him. A laugh leaving your lips. “We finally put them in their place.” You laugh. “What you said? Was so fucking hot.” You say, still in shock. John laughs. You look at him, moving over the center console to straddle his hips, smashing your lips to his. He grasps your hips. You rock your hips into his, desperate for his cock again. He shoves his foot into the metal pedal, his seat sliding all of the way back with a cranking noise. He’s kissing you back with just as much force as you’re kissing him with, his hand grasping on your shirt and squeezing you into him as tight as he can. You have your hands wrapped around his neck, and he pushes your shorts down your legs, the ones you had on the day before. He unzips his jeans, pulling his cock through the hole. You hover over him, sinking down onto him with a moan. His mouth muffles it. When you pull away, rocking your hips into him, he relaxes. Letting the pleasure take over. “Oh fuck yeah baby-“ he gasps. You’re bouncing your hips into him faster, leaning in to kiss him as hard as you did before. He’s moaning into your lips, thinking about how dirty this is. However he got himself in this situation, he’s happy. You make him feel young again, so fucking crazy. You pull away, resting your forehead against his. Panting hard as you keep a steady pace. You moan out. Tilting your head back. “Fuck-“ he reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your clit. “Say it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You ask. “Say it.” He pants. His hand connects with your bare ass in a harsh slap. “Say what I want you to say baby..” he smirks. You blush hard, “Daddy…” you pant. He bites his lip. Tilting his head into the seat behind him. “Fuuuck.. that’s so fucking hot princess.” He groans. You lean into him again. And he looks at you. “Fuck.. I love you.” He breathes. Chest heaving. His eyes widen after he says it, he doesn’t mean to. You kiss him again, steadily rocking your hips into him.

He’s right at his peak, and he knows you are too. “I love you too.” You say it when you pull away and the sparks that shoot through him, it’s too much. He’s right there, so close. He starts to lift his hips up into you, groaning out. “Oh fuck- Daddy!” You cry out. “Yes baby, I know you’re so close. Cum for me.” He breathes. “Cum on my dick again baby-“ he’s breathing so hard, it feels so good. He feels like he’s about to pass out. “Daddy- yes! So close. So so close.” He tears a cry from your throat as you reach your high, eyes shutting tightly and he moans out, jumping back as your pussy milks his cock of everything he has to give you. Flinching as you rock your hips into him once for good measure. You rest your head on his chest, and he runs a soothing hand over your back. The both of you still breathing so hard.

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Hey, look at me.” He mumbles. You lift your head, eyes drowsy. “Do you mean it?” He asks. “What?” You ask. “Do you love me?”

You blush, looking down. “John.. I’ve been in love with you. For years.” You mumble. “You’re sure it’s no crush?” He asks. “No, it’s no crush. I’m in love with you, John. Have been.” You mumble. He pushes your hair behind your ear. “I love you too. And I can take care of you baby. You can come live with me, I’ll make sure you have everything you need.” He breathes. You smile. “John, I can’t leach off of you like that. It’s no fair.” He rolls his eyes, lifting his hips to adjust himself, earning a gasp from you. “Leach? No. I want to take care of you baby. You’re a princess, you deserve nice things. You deserve to be treated with respect. Let me take care of you. Help you get through school.” He smiles. You blush, kissing him again. “I’ll help you get your car back, we can start moving your things this weekend. I want you. Forever. And I’ll never ever let anyone come between you and I. Not ever. I’ll never treat you the way everyone else does.” He holds your head against his. “Promise?” You raise your pinky up and he takes it with a smile. “I promise. Now Cmon.” You smile. “Okay, Daddy.” You smirk. He swats your ass playfully making you jump into him. “Ah!” You giggle, sliding off of him. He groans out as you do. You slide your shorts back on, climbing off of him and back into his passenger seat.

How you went from a shitty family barbecue to this? You’ll never understand.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #captain price #mw2 smut #john price #price x you #john price x reader #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #alejandro mw2 #johnny soap mactavish

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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keerysfreckles · 23 days

Text

coming of age — MV1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary: in which a silly bet between the two redbull drivers becomes a reality when y/n wins the first race of the 2024 season.

warnings: not proofread, sorry for spelling mistakes!!

a/n: LET ME COOK ‼️‼️

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

ever since y/n l/n joined f1 in 2019, joining her best friends, lando norris, alex albon and george russell, her life flipped upside down.

she's been in four teams since her debut. she started in mclaren with lando in 2019, then got told the news carlos sainz would be taking her seat in 2020.

she then got moved to williams, which proved she deserved to be in a better car. she excelled as best she could with what she was given, securing the 10th spot in the drivers championship. but she wanted more.

so for the next two years y/n joined ferrari, alongside one of her formula one idols, charles leclerc. both ferrari drivers proved they earned their spots every year, until y/n got into a crash during an australian free practice. to put it lightly, she was forced to use crutches for the rest of the 2022 season. therefore at the end of 2022, she was told carlos would replace her for the upcoming years.

january 2023 rolls around, and y/n still didn't have a seat. however, a certain redbull driver had his eyes on her ever since she joined, watching as she made her way up the fornula one ladder. climbing each step in order to get to the podium, but not a win. the driver believed if she worked at redbull, she'd get that long awaited win.

so max verstappen had a plan. he spent the whole week trying his best to convince christian horner to take y/n in for the 2023 season. they needed a second driver anyway, and needed to announce it as soon as possible.

after days of constantly bothering the team principal, it was finally announced to the world that y/n would be joining redbull under a multi-year contract.

to say y/n excelled in redbull the past year would be an understatement. y/n was proudly on the podium nineteen out of the twenty-three races held. so close to the win, but always settling for second and third place.

y/n was done settling. she knew 2024 was going to be her year, and the pre season training was already going more than smoothly. both her and max were the fastest on track every day, with merely seconds between them.

from her first day in the redbull car, y/n and max had a bet going on; if y/n could win whatever race they were participating in that weekend, she'd have to kiss max. it started out as a small joke, but y/n couldn't help but wonder what max's lips would feel like on hers. would it be a quick kiss? or something more? all questions that wouldn't be answered until she won, and she was trying to do that here in bahrain.

it was a redbull front row, making the start of the race easy for both drivers. both pit stops went by smoothly, and their strategies were working wonders.

with only five laps to go, her race engineer spoke into her ear pieces.

"pace is still good, max is in front with 1.3 second gap," john spoke calmly, watching through the screens from the pit wall.

y/n replies shortly, before focusing back on the task at hand. every single race she's wanted to beat max, but this time felt much more real. maybe there was more adrenaline from the crowd, or maybe the car was going faster this year. whatever it was, she wouldn't know.

"gap .9 now, drs is enabled."

y/n pressed a button in response, turning on her drs as she passed down the straight. the muffled screams from the outside world seemed to get louder and louder as she got closer to the rear of max's car.

if she blinked, she would've missed the moment she finally over took her teammate. for a second, even she was confused.

"did we just pass max?" she asked john, her voice shaking slightly.

john chuckles into the microphone, "you did my dear. only two laps to go now, keep the pace."

y/n did as instructed. the world around her went quiet again as she saw the checkered flag, only a few feet away from her.

"y/n l/n wins her very first formula one grand prix! she wins in bahrain, making it a redbull 1-2 this evening!"

y/n instantly screams into her helmet, hearing the laughs and shouts from the pit wall and redbull crew coming out of the garage.

she slowed down for a cool down lap, waving and pumping her fist as she drove by the grand stands. max drove besider her now, giving her a thumbs up. he could practically hear the girls laughter and cheers from his own car.

y/n wasn't sure when the tears started to flow, but she kept wiping her face after taking her helmet off. as soon as she weighed in, she was running to the redbull crew waiting for her behind the barricades.

she yelled before being lifted into the air by the sea of navy blue. y/n was on cloud nine as she was being set back down onto the ground.

christian was waiting just outside the barricade, with his arms wide open.

"you stinker! i knew this day would come," he congratulates the girl, enveloping her in a warm hug.

the smile never leaves her face as the drivers come to congratulate her. max gives her a hug first, and y/n can't tell if he kissed her temple, or if she was just imagining it with all the adrenaline coursing through her.

lando was next, considering he got third, he was already waiting for her once he parked his car. he spun her off the ground, when the other 2019 rookies came running up to the pair.

a cameraman patted lando on the shoulder, gesturing for them to lift y/n up. he complied, as the three boys somehow lifted y/n onto their shoulders, posing as the shutters of the camera went off.

carlos and charles congratulated her next, both telling her how proud they were of her.

finally being able to sit in the middle seat in the cool down room felt unreal for y/n. putting on the winner's hat was more than enough, but sitting in between lando and max sealed the deal.

lando got to the podium first, with the mclaren crew cheering him on from the ground.

max was next, still with a big smile on his face, despite not winning the race.

finally y/n emerged from around the corner. y/n's heart swelled as the crowd below her cheered louder than anyone has ever heard it before. lando and max both held out their hands for high fives as she stood on the top of the podium.

she couldn't control the smile on her face as she recieved your first medal, and first formula one trophy. as anyone else wouldve done, she held the trophy low to the ground as the crowd below started to roar. once she lifted it above her head the crowd went wild once again.

she watched proudly as max and lando were handed their trophies, lifting them above their heads as well.

y/n basked in the bahrain sunset as the national anthem of her country played through the speakers. shortly after the austrian anthem played, while both her and max looked down to their team in awe. neither of them would be where they are today without them.

not even a second passes after the austrian anthem is over, and max and lando are ambusing y/n with their champagne. she laughs and screams as the cold alcohol sprays down her racing suit. she tries her best to spray max and lando, but can't help but continue wiping her eyes as a mix of tears and champagne fall down her cheeks.

as y/n's still wiping her eyes and the champagne in the bottles is almost empty, max takes her chin softly in his hand. she looks up at him, her heart starting to race again once she realized what her win means in terms of the silly bet the two drivers have.

y/n would've gladly payed a thousand dollars to see the look on everyone's face when max pulled her lips to his. still with her champagne bottle in one hand, she grabs onto max's bicep. making her realize he's really here and kissing her, and to keep her on her feet.

lando was the most caught off gaurd. he turned just in time after leaning down to grab his trophy. his eyes went wide as he watched the two redbu drivers.

the redbull crew all cheered, all silently hoping this moment would happen. they all knew about the longing glances between drivers, and how they got along so quickly when y/n first joined the team.

"finally a race winner," max mumbles against the top of y/n's head, kissing her hair. he wraps his arm around her as the two begin to walk out of the champagne covered platform. she waits for lando, pausing her and max's movements. once lando's by her side, she walks with both of them. her smile still never leaves.

after getting a group picture and video with the redbull crew, and probably taking a million pictures to post on the teams social media platforms, y/n and max go to their drivers rooms.

y/n facetimes her parents quickly, knowing how early in the morning it is for them.

finally changing into dry and much more comfortable clothes, a knock interrupts her thoughts.

"race winner looks good on you," max smiles after closing the door behind him.

y/n can't help but laugh, her smile growing once again.

"i can't believe it finally happened," she shakes her head. max sits on her sofa, watching as she packs her backpack.

"we all knew it would happen, it was just a matter of when," max states, causing a small blush to adorn y/n's cheeks.

"i hope you know i'm more than proud of you," max admits, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

y/n zips her bag, not looking at the dutchman next to her, "yeah, the whole team seemed so." she laughs again at the thought of how happy the redbull garage was for the girl.

max chuckles, "no y/n, i'm saying i'm more than proud of you." he looks up at her now, meeting her eyes.

"thank you max," she smiles again.

before he can contemplate his own thoughts any further, he stands to walk out of the room. he rubs his hand on y/n's shoulder before exiting, "i'll be right out, so we can walk out together, yeah?"

y/n's lucky to catch max's attention just as his hand grabs the door handle.

"i'm surprised you stayed with your word, and kissed me today," y/n turns to face max.

he turns as well, still leaving a fair amount of space between the two of them.

he shrugs and y/n doesn't miss the slight blush on his cheeks, "well yeah, a bet's a bet. no one can back out of one."

y/n takes a few steps forward. the confidence could've been from the dying adrenaline, but whatever it was from, she was going to use it.

"so if it weren't for the bet, you wouldn't have kissed me?"

max chuckles, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. a stutter becoming more prominent between every word, "no, no i mean if it were a right time i would've kissed you. i just wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, yeah?"

he continues stumbling over his words, causing the girl in front of him to giggle. his heart bursts at the sound.

"are you just going to stand there while i make a fool out of myself?" he asks, out of breath from rambling. his hands fall to his sides.

"i could," y/n states, watching max's smile falter slightly. "or i could just kiss you."

before max could get a proper response out, y/n leans up to press her lips against his for the second time that night. his hands instantly find their way to her waist, as hers hold both sides of his face.

"so if i won a race earlier, would i still have gotten a kiss?" y/n asks, just centimeters away from max's lips.

"screw just a kiss, we would've been a couple a whole lot sooner."

max cuts off y/n's giggle with another kiss.

the second kiss of many between the drivers.

871 notes · View notes

imwetforyourmom · 19 days

Text

not her

pt4

warnings: swearing, smut, kissing, fingering, teasing, mouth covering (idfk), backshots/doggy (guys whats the difference??), slight praising, overthinking ig (?), js smut bc this chap was alr rllyyyy long and next chap will have everything (drama and other things I cant remeber)

taglist

a/n: i am sorry guys

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ~~~ NEXT CHAPTER

“please fuck me, matt, please”

that exact day, when matt left the janitors closet he left school entirely, how was he supposed to still attend school after breaking up with his girlfriend? he wasnt even sure if she was going to stay at school, but he’d rather go home then stay and see her at lunch and free periods.

he opened his bedroom door and shut it behind himself, locking the door and walking to his bed.

he collapsed onto it, finding the mattress to be a comfort for him, like the hug he needed.

of course he still felt horrible for breaking up with his girlfriend, she was his girlfriend. despite the fact he hung out with amelia more than her, he just didnt understand why y/n had to make it such a big deal that he had a girl friend and wanted to hang out with her. she just had to be so clingy, and absolutely destroy their relatonship.

what broke him more was that she was still clingy even after she went and kissed other men, more than once. she still wanted to hang out with him even after she offered herself up for other men. he wasnt sure if that was a good thing or not, but what truly mattered was that she cheated, and still had the audacity to want him.

it doesn’t matter, he told himself. you have amelia, he reminded himself. a small grin fighting its way onto his face at the thought of her, completely forgetting about y/n.

he knew he could trust amelia not to go to some other men and replace him so easily.

he knew amelia actually liked him for him.

matt laid in his bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling. his bed felt cold and empty, not how it usually did on the weekends. the blankets under his body didnt provide any warmth, it only laid under him with a presence, not living up to its purpose.

the pillow rested under his head didnt feel comfortable, his pillow was stiff and uncomfortable under his head, not sinking into the form of his head and providing a comfortable rest like it normally did, the usually soft fabric was now itchy against him. all it did was lay, lay and lay only, no comfort whatsoever.

the hug of his mattress didnt sink in when he rested in it, it stayed stiff and flat. not providing a soothe of peace to the ache in his muscles. it felt cold and empty—even with him in it.

normally his bed was a comforting and a safe haven, he didnt understand why it wasnt the same now, what changed?

he laid uncomfortably on his bed, before he realized something.

normally y/n would sleepover on the weekends, and now that they werent together anymore.. he was alone, and he wasnt used to it, speaking of how they were together for two years and she’d been doing it almost every weekend.

he told himself, it wasnt that he missed y/n, he missed feeling another person in his bed with him.

before he could double think it, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and tapped messages, pressing amelia’s contact and typing out a message.

‘hey!! did you want to come over tonight?’

there she stood, in his bedroom, beside him with tiny little pj’s on—which, she’d done on purpose.

she purposefully put on a pair of short shorts, ones that just barely showed the bottom of her ass, but, if she were to bend over, it’d be a whole different story.

amelia made sure that when she walked to take a seat onto matts bed, that she’d sway her hips just a teensy bit to tease him, and of course, to flaunt her ass to him, like I said, tease him.

she took a seat and pulled her legs into criss cross applesauce, her shorts exposing her inner thighs, matt found himself staring with absolutely no hesitation, curious on what was further past her shorts. her shirt did not help at all, he only wanted to tear off her slightly too tight shirt, showing her perky tits perfectly.

he cleared his throat, already feeling himself go semi-hard, he laid onto the bed next to her, crossing his legs and sticking his hand into his pocket and fisting his hand, attempting to make his pants a little looser around his cock, hiding his forming boner.

he looked over at her, patting the spot next to him with a warm smile on his face.

“wanna watch something?” he asked, watching as she very confidently crawled over to him and laid down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder with a hum.

“sure! I have a movie in mind—well, movies, its a movie series,” amelia looked up at him, her face a little too close to his face.

“its called after.” she grabbed the tv remote resting in matts hand, over his lap. with grabbing it, she purposefully touched his dick with pressure, immediately matts body had a reaction, a grunt leaving his throat and his dick going fully hard.

“are you okay?” amelia asked, her nose scrunched with confusion, fake confusion, anything to get matt to believe it was an accident.

“y- yeah..” he took in a breath, calming his composure “just turn the movie on.” he closed his eyes momentarily, trying to think of the grossest things on planet earth to subside his boner and the touch that definitely didn’t help.

he opened his eyes again, seeing that amelia had already turned on the movie and was getting comfy in her spot, shifting her body over some and pressing her back into matt’s side, laying her head more comfortably in his shoulder.

amelia knew what this movie consisted of, that’s why she turned it on, it was apart of her plan, her plan being

1. come over in small pjs

2. tease and touch him

3. turn on a sex movie

4. make more teasing touches and fuck him, or, more preferably have him fuck her into oblivion.

and now, all she’d had to do was fuck him, which, wouldn’t be so hard, he’s already rock hard and drinking in the sight of her revealed skin, her revealed skin so close to the places he desired.

not too long later.. a sex scene popped up, and amelia could feel the heat radiating from matt’s body, she could see his previously softening dick go rock hard so easily again so fast, he looked like an inexperienced horny, teenage boy.

matt’s focus hadn’t been on the movie, not once, not even the second she turned it on. all he could think about was the sight of amelia’s thighs, they looked fucking devourable. he wanted her thighs wrapped around his head. all he could think about was her body and how much he wanted to kiss and suck all over it, her body was mesmerizing. all he wanted was it, he wanted to fuck her so badly, his eyes were on the tv, but mind on her body.

when he heard soft moans and grunts from the tv, his focus immediately snapped to it, his eyes darting around it and taking everything in.

amelia chuckled, “oops, didn’t know this was gonna be in here.” she mumbled.

matt shook his head, “yes you did, you fucking whore.” his voice was low, grabbing her waist and flipping them over, he was on top of her now, staring into her eyes with a lustful look in them, the blue completely gone and replaced with black. he dipped his head down, connecting their lips with a slow but passionate kiss full of tongue.

that’s what amelia wished matt had done when she said that, but he didn’t, only, his breathing went erotic and his hand slipped to her thigh, holding the one closest to him and his grip tightening ever so slightly.

amelia, purposelly, whimpered.

and that was the last straw for matt. he moved his hand from her thigh and turned his head to her, cupping her cheek, forcefully turning her head to his and attaching their lips in a needy and desperate kiss.

matt moved to pinning amelia to the bed, his own body ontop of hers, his one hand keeping her hip pinned to the bed with a tight force while his other hand slowly traveled from the ball of her jaw to her throat, holding it and ever so slightly, tightening his hold every few seconds.

he pushed his tongue between her lips, forcefully shoving his tongue into her mouth, exploring every inch of her mouth with a passion burning in his stomach.

he used his knee to spread her legs and situate his hips between her legs, grinding his crotch into hers, earning a high pitched moan from amelia.

amelia wrapped her legs around matts waist, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth before she pulled away, “please fuck me, matt, please” she begged, arching her back off the bed.

matt dipped his head down into amelias neck, pressing wet and sloppy kisses all across it, stopping every few moments to suck a deep mark into the senstive skin.

“hang on baby, be patient f’me” he mumbled against her skin, biting lightly onto one of the marks, definitely leaving a deep purple mark for later.

he rubbed her hips before trailing his hand down to her shorts, slipping his hand into her panties and rubbing circles onto her clit, eliciting a moan from amelia.

“matt-“ amelia moaned, rolling her eyes back as his fingers slid to her entrance, slicking it in her wetness before slowly dipping his finger into her entrance, amelia could feel a smirk forming on his lips from them pressing against her throat.

he slid the rest of his finger inside of her, earning a shriek and a loud moan from her, his free hand covered her mouth, whispering against her throat “quiet amelia, we dont want my brothers hearing you, do we?”

he pumped his finger continuously before adding another finger, hearing a muffled sound from amelias mouth, lifting his head from her neck to look at her, the sight only adding onto his ego, her eyes rolled back, her normally pink cheeks a dark red and her orange hair on its way to becoming messy.

he curled his fingers, hitting her g-spot effortlessly, another loud, muffled moan slid from amelia’s throat.

a knot formed in amelias lower abdomen, tightening with every pump and curl of matts fingers.

“‘m close, matty!” she whined from his hand, arching her back, she clenched around his fingers. pushing her hips downwards in an attempt to god-knows-what.

matts thumb curved up and rubbed circles on her clit, reaching her higher to her climax.

he thrusted his finger out once more, before thrusting back in and biting harshly down onto her throat, causing amelia to cum on his fingers with a loud and thankfully muffled moan.

“mmm, good girl” matt praised, pulling his fingers out from amelia and bringing them up to his lips, licking them clean before going back to amelia’s shorts, pulling them off by the hem, then pulling his own sweatpants and boxers down quickly.

he grabbed amelia’s hips, flipping her over onto her belly, “get on your hands and knees” he mumbled, rubbing her back with one hand while his other was at the base of his cock, jacking himself off to ease the throbbing pain.

amelia obligated, pulling her weak legs to be propped on their knees and her palms down, holding herself up, waiting in anticipation for matt to stuff her full.

matt ran his tip through her folds, collecting her wetness before guiding it to her entrance, sliding in slowly, attempting to ease the small burning sensation amelia was most likely experincing, the earlier stretch of his fingers doing nothing.

once bottomed out, matt groaned, grabbing both her hips to ensure she would stay in place and to stabilize himself.

he pulled almost all the way out, before slamming back in, giving amelia no mercy at all.

he continously slammed his hips in and out of her, creating a rough pace that made him feel good—hes not sure he was exactly focusing on amelia’s pleasure.

he wasnt stupid, he knew why he turned amelia around, hes really only ever seeked sex with y/n, and now that she wasnt the one he was fucking, he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. he didnt want to look in amelia’s eyes and find that they arent y/ns. he’d only want to see y/ns in such a vulnerable moment.

only to feel her in such a vulnerable moment, but he didnt have her so he had to improvise.

thats why he really wasnt sure if he cared if amelia was feeling good, a part of him knew he really only cared if he made y/n feel good.

he shook his head, ridding the thoughts of y/n, hes balls deep in amelia, thinking about his ex-girlfriend is not the time.

he fucked into amelia’s cunt again, the pleasure sub-siding as his thoughts began to overbear it all.

what if amelia was a mistake?

what if amelia thinks after this hookup, they’re together?

what if he regrets breaking up with her for the rest of his life?

what if, when he realizes how much y/n actually was apart of him, its too late to go back?

what if he still loves y/n? he still does, he just hasnt realized it himself yet

what if he’ll never forgive himself for fucking amelia and ditching y/n for a random redhead?

oh my god. he ditched the love of his life for some random ass redhead.

his breathing began to go unsteady, but not because of his thrusting, but because of his overriding thoughts.

it took everything in him to stop the thoughts and keep them low, trying to focus on the main point here. cumming and cumming only, not to think about his ex girlfriend.

why would he even want to think about his girlfriend? she cheated on him and was a needy ass clingy bitch.

it physically pained him to think that last part, y/n wasnt a ‘needy ass clingy bitch’ and he knew it. he knew y/n only wanted his love and attention and she wasnt receiveing it, she had to ask and argue for it.

but no, his dumbass was so entranced by some random girl that he completely dumped his special girl.

no, no, he shouldnt be think this. y/n isnt his special girl, she cheated on him.

she cheated

he had to chant it to himself in his head to actually try and get himself to believe it, but why couldnt he? he trusted amelia’s word did he?, but-

“matt, mmfff fuckk! ‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum!” amelia moaned, bringing matt back to what he was doing.

he closed his eyes momentarily, taking in a few pants before opening his eyes again and bringing himself back to the main point of this interaction.

he reached his hand around amelia’s hip to rub circles on her clit, urging her to her climax.

“cmon, pretty girl, ya gonna cum all over my cock?” he taunted, pulling out, before pushing in and staying inside for a moment, before pulling abrubtly back out.

matts hand moved from her clit, sliding his hand under her shirt to her nipple, pinching at it and stimulating it, with a loud moan, amelia came, her climax taking a huge toll on her, her eyesight going blurry and her elbows buckling on her.

matt grunted, feeling his own climax approaching, he pulled out, pumping himself a few times before shooting his load onto her lower back. subtly making it seem like thats where he wanted it to be in the moment, but truthfully, he didnt want to cum in her at all. that was meant for y/n, not amelia. he didnt want his cum, not inside his special girl.

amelia collasped onto the bed, resting her weak sore elbows and knees, taking in huge breaths and exhaling huge breaths, attempting to recover from the moment.

matt walked to his bathroom, grabbing a wet, warm washcloth and cleaning himself off before rinsing the cloth off again.

he pulled his boxers and pants up again. his eyes looked up into the mirror, where his reflection stared back at him, a disappointed look in his own eyes—towards himself.

he closed his eyes, walking out of the bathroom with the cloth in hand. opening his eyes again he crouched infront of amelia, cleaning her back before grabbing her waist he gently flipped her over onto her back and spread her legs, cleaning her up, his hands gently pulled her panties and shorts back up, then threw the dirty cloth in his laundry basket.

he laid in bed next to the already sleeping amelia, he stared up at the ceiling, folding his hands over his chest while he thought,

thought about how disappointing he was with himself and how he didnt even enjoy himself during his sex with amelia, he felt bad but he felt worse for himself. realizing that amelia would never be y/n, she’d never be similar to y/n.

why would he break up with her? did he really trust amelia’s word or did he just want an excuse to not want y/n anymore.

why did he do that?

amelia isnt y/n, she never was. y/n is his special girl, only y/n.

2940 words

@rosalierenee43 @luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @ssilentzom @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @sturn-bugz @maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @riasturns @chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx @starsturni @nathandoesgf @sillyfreakfanparty

@mels22lunchbox @mattspolitank

@e1ias3

@stunza @chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx

@starsturni

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@starsturni

@aliceloveschris

@sleepysturnss @xbabyd0lli3x @mbbsgf @stuniolo-simp4life @sturnsfavvv @sturnwritess @0zzzzz6-blog @coochiedestroyer1 @ratatioulle @bibassssssss @mbbsgf @nayveetbhh @jamiesturniolo @norr1ssturni0lo

@leia-13 @multi-fandom205 @d-seavy @mattsdinosweater @preppy234 @sturniololvrrr @fleurdaisy11 @im-a-bored-chicken-nugget @e1ias3

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo angst #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine

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mclqren · 3 months

Text

SPORTING SECRETS ★ CL16

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!footballer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you are a famous footballer & you have been dating charles in secret for some time, but your fans start to piece together the clues when they spot him at one of your matches [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ reader plays for the arsenal women's team. the fc i've used is alessia russo, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_, and 214,990 others

yourusername match ready for this weekend ❤️

view all comments

user1 i literally aspire to be like you when i get older

user2 she does it againnn!!

user3 london is RED ❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

bethmead_ my girllll 💘

yourusername love youu!!

user4 i look up to her sm

user5 sameee!!

user6 HOW IS SHE SINGLE STILLL

user7 literally NO CLUE HOW

charles_leclerc

( caption one: guess where i am 😍 | caption two: london 🇬🇧 )

liked by kimlittle1990, charles_leclerc, and 252,111 others

yourusername walking back after a victory this weekend:

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user12 LETS FUCKING GOOO

user13 KNEW YOU COULD DO ITTT!!

leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️

yourusername foreverrrr! ❤️

user14 is no one going to talk about how CHARLES LECLERC is in her likes??

user15 i swear he's been following her for a while, though?

user16 yup!! but this is the first time they're actually interacting with each other on the internet

liked by bethmead_, charles_leclerc, and 292,400 others

yourusername best end to the weekend!! ft millie 💘

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user17 MILLIE IS BACKKKK!!

user18 ugh y/n is such a cutie i can't

user19 OKAY BUT WHO IS THAT GUYYY??

user20 Y/N HAS A MAN??

user21 i'm kindaaa surprised but not really bc LOOK AT HER

bethmead_ so who's the man that's replaced me

yourusername shhh look away ❤️

charles_leclerc millieee!!

yourusername my fav 💘

user22 THE COMMENT FROM CHARLES HELLO?

user23 my two worlds colliding is this a fever dream.

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,101,767 others

tagged yourusername

charles_leclerc my y/n - aka the best footballer i've ever met (other than myself, of course) i'm so happy we can finally share our love with the rest of the world. forever and always, i love you ❤️

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user25 WHERE IS THAT GIRL ON TWITTER BC SHE MUST BE PUNCHING THE AIR RN.

user26 SOMEONE GIVE HER A MEDAL

user27 AHHH SHES SO CUTE!!

user28 NEW PARENTS UNLOCKED

user29 wait can someone tell me who she is??

user30 y/n l/n!! she's a footballer for the arsenal wfc and she's sooo fucking perfect!

user29 ahh!! she's so gorgeous! 💗💗

yourusername the way you posted this without my permission is crazyyy...

charles_leclerc had to let the world know at some point 😘

yourusername i love you tooo! (the caption abt you being better is def a lie but okay!)

charles_leclerc excuse me i dominated the game??

yourusername how - by falling flat on ur ass??

user30 OKAY THEIR DYNAMIC>>>

liked by charles_leclerc, bethmead_, and 401,928 others

tagged charles_leclerc

yourusername charlieee my love!! thank you so much for supporting me for just over a year (crazy how no one managed to clock us for it until now), you mean so so much to me! p.s. if you ever want to say ur better than me at football, take a look at the last pic. you're welcome. 😊😊

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user31 STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK US SO LONG TO FIGURE OUT

user32 FR like we're meant to be so diligent??

user33 AW MY HEARTTT

user34 icl him in that first pic>>> WOW

bethmead_ still can't believe you replaced me :(

yourusername no one could ever replace you, come over rn 😘

bethmead_ omw!!

charles_leclerc i love you

yourusername LOVE YOU MORE

user35 my heart can't handle this sedate me now.

charles_leclerc WHY THE LAST PIC

yourusername i get to insult you every once in a while 💘

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#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #formula one x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #smau #formula one x you #mclqren #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

764 notes · View notes

thef1diary · 2 months

Text

Little Big Blurbs

— Mr. Bear & Bearman

Saudi Arabian gp 2024, Bella meets Ollie.

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.8k

Based on these requests though I kinda changed parts of the plot, aka I forgot about the sky sports broadcast part until after I finished writing 🫣

It was the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix which was one of the hottest races on the calendar.

Since you had never gone to the country before, Max had warned you about the heat that this time of year would bring. For your daughter in particular, iced cold water in reusable bottles was one of the primary items you had stocked up on in preparation.

Although Isabella enjoyed summer, the humidity in Jeddah caused her hair to stick to her forehead, a sensation she rapidly grew aware of and disliked.

She was not a big fan of the sun blazing down on her, but still wanted to support Max. Even after he had suggested that both of you could join him for the next race in Australia, she didn't budge on her decision to watch the race in Jeddah. Isabella had made it clear that would choose to go to every race that she was able to, especially since it would give her an excuse to skip a few days of school before and after the weekend as well due to travelling.

Isabella was wearing an airy navy blue dress to show her support for her favourite team. She wore a cap with Max's driver number printed on it, as well as sunglasses to keep the sun from stinging her eyes. In addition, a small battery-powered fan rested on her shoulders to keep her cool all throughout the day.

Since Max was required to be in the garage hours before you and Isabella planned to arrive, you entered the paddock on race day with only your daughter.

You held her free hand while you walked further in the paddock, glancing at her a few times and chuckling at her choice of attire which was adorably cute for her age.

With her hand that wasn't held onto yours, she held her favourite teddy, Mr. Bear. Ever since she had retrieved it—or rather rescued it—from her father's house, she hasn't gone anywhere without it in fear of losing or forgetting it again.

Although you hadn't spotted Max, Isabella quickly waved at another driver decked out in a red Ferrari polo and blue baggy jeans—her second favourite driver.

Charles bursted into laughter when he first saw her, immediately commenting on the fan, "I want one."

Isabella tilted one of the two mini fans' direction towards him and he exaggerated a sigh of relief, finding her instant response to his words cute and told her that he appreciated her action. He turned it back towards her after a few moments, knowing that it was to prevent her from excessively sweating or even getting a possible heat stroke.

Then, he looked at you, "hey, why don't I show you around the Ferrari garage?"

You thought about it for a moment, never having been in any other garages except RedBull and RB. "I'm not too sure about that, you know, considering I'm with Max," you shrugged.

He chuckled, "you have no idea how many times he's come by, c'mon it won't take long." He extended his hand towards you but didn't grasp onto your hand, letting you know that you still had a say in the matter and that he would promptly end the conversation and accept your decision if you declined once more.

"Then, I will walk you to your lovesick boyfriend," he muttered quietly enough that Isabella didn't hear.

Dropping your mouth in faux offense, you lightly smacked his shoulder with your hand. "Lovesick? I saw him a few hours ago."

He shrugged, "few hours too long."

You briefly looked down at your daughter who was silently beaming and you knew that she would love a little tour of the Ferrari garage.

You playfully clasped your palm in his for a moment, making him chuckle, "okay then, show us around."

"Great, I can also introduce you to Ollie," Charles commented as he lead you towards the garage that showcased an enlarged version of the iconic prancing horse on the building.

Furrowing your brows, you asked, "who's Ollie?"

"He's a F2 driver, filling in for Carlos because of his illness," Charles briefly explained, pointing at another person who was wearing the same team gear as him.

"Right there." Charles called him over, and you noticed that the driver looked visibly younger than any other Formula 1 driver currently on the grid.

Unfortunately, right as Ollie was introduced to you and Isabella by Charles, the older Ferrari driver was pulled away by other team members that required his presence. "It's alright, he can show you around," Charles suggested.

With a sheepish smile on Ollie's face, he nodded, "I'll show you around, but I will say, I'm still learning everything myself,"

Exploring the garage, you noticed that one of the biggest differences was the colour of the items, other than that most of the things were similar in each garage. Where the Redbull garage was filled with navy blue, Ferrari was an infamous red. Despite being close to the Ferrari drivers, it had felt like you entered a different world since you were used to staying in the Redbull garage.

Your daughter quickly befriended Ollie, mainly since he wasn't immune to her antics and cute little pout. One question led to another and he was happily answering them all to the best of his ability. While most of their conversation was filled with laughter, you could also hear some bickering between them.

In the sea of red, you spotted a man wearing the rival team colours, and even though his back was turned to you, it was easy to tell that it was Max. While Charles had said that the other team drivers can come by the garage, he failed to mention that they would get stared at oddly because of the contrasting colours that made him stand out.

Once he turns around and spots you, he quickly makes his way towards you with the corner of his lips turning downwards. "Why are you here?" He asks, panting.

"Charles suggested a tour. Why are you out of breath?" You retorted. He bends over and rests his palms on his knees. "I looked for you everywhere, I thought you were coming straight to my garage."

He had initially checked his phone for a call or message from you since you weren't in his side of the garage, but the battery died. Max underestimated the amount of walking it would take to check the entire paddock to find you because he couldn't wait after putting his phone on charge.

You placed your palm over your mouth to hide your smile. "I was, but look there," you pointed at your daughter. She was currently carried by Ollie on his back while he showed her all the little details that would be too high up for her to see otherwise.

Max walked over to Ollie, slowly getting to know him better throughout the weekend. Max liked him a lot as the younger driver reminded him of himself when he was younger, albeit a little different but the passion to race was similar.

Although, Ollie didn't need to know that since the words leaving Max’s mouth contrasted his thoughts. "Show her all the red you want, but the only red she'll like is Redbull," Max tells Ollie, catching Isabella’s attention too.

“Maxy look, Ollie got me a bear!” She exclaimed, sliding off the younger driver’s back and holding up the teddy bear. There was a small version of the Ferrari cap stitched on to its head along with a Ferrari polo as well.

“Very nice, princess, did you say thank you?” He asked and earned a nod from the little girl. While she walked closer towards you, Ollie responded to the statement Max said.

"I don't know, maybe you'll have to ask her which red she prefers."

"Are you challenging me?" Max quips, raising his brows. Ollie shrugged nonchalantly, "maybe I am."

"I’ll have you know that I am very competitive," Max added, earning a sigh from you. "Max, are you seriously arguing with a kid, that too over Bella?"

He looked at you in disbelief, "he's trying to convince our Bella to like Ferrari over RedBull, he's brainwashing her."

"I don't know about which one I like better, but I will say that I’m also going to be supporting Ollie this race, since it's his first in F1.”

Max frowned at you, then looked at Ollie, "seriously? First my Bella and now my girlfriend too? Count your days."

The younger driver looked at you with concern visible in his eyes, “he’s not serious is he?”

You shook your head, “not at all,” but at the same time Max replied, “of course I am.”

You ignored your boyfriend’s words for a moment, placing a hand on Ollie’s shoulder. "Raising Isabella has just made him a bit more protective," you explained.

"You both have a beautiful daughter, but you don't have to worry about her here," he looked at Isabella who had interrupted Charles’ conversation with his engineer but neither men minded the intrusion.

You called your daughter over, not wanting her to be a disturbance in the garage especially on a busy day like today. Before you could respond to Ollie’s comment, Max beat you to it. "You’re driving for Ferrari, that is enough of a reason not to trust you.

“He’s joking,” you added to lighten the mood, especially since Max’s humour was not obvious to many people. Ollie on the other hand, added his own cheeky retort, "you trust Charles."

Isabella returned to your side and it was time to leave the garage since Max was probably needed at his garage too. Your daughter’s hands were occupied by two teddy bears, and you couldn’t help but ask, “what are you going to name it?”

“Bearman, after Ollie.” Her response caused a sigh to leave Max’s mouth but you chuckled looking at him. “Mr. Bear and Bearman, that’s nice.”

Isabella stopped in her tracks, “mama, can I watch the race from that garage?” She asked pointing to the Ferrari garage that you just began walking away from.

You looked at Max, expecting to see another frown on his face but seeing a smile instead. He shrugged, “if she wants.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, finding the difference in his mood concerning. “Yeah, Ollie’s a good kid.” His smiled revealed that he had no ill intent regarding Ollie, he was just a little overprotective over Isabella.

Isabella spent that qualifying day cheering on Ollie while sitting along with you and his family, who were already enamoured by the little girl as well. When he returned with a good starting position, especially considering it was his first ever race in Formula 1, he hugged Isabella just as tight as he hugged his father, already considering her like a little sister.

Little Big Blurb taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @keerysfreckles @d3kstar @xjval @hc-dutch @the-untamed-soul @multi-fandom-fan221b @lilymurphy03 @shreks-best-tits @nessacarty1 @ldynblack @lighttsoutlewis @ur-fave-ave @namjoonswaifu @llando4norris

#max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #little big fan fic #thef1diary fic #f1 fluff #fluff #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #ollie bearman fanfic #ollie bearman fluff

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pierregazly · 9 months

Text

i know places ꨄ charles leclerc smau

charles leclerc x fem!reader

or 4 times charles soft launched you, and the one time he hard launched you so hard it almost caused whiplash

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, joris__trouche, and 430,230 others

charles_leclerc happy summer break 😁

view all 3,400 comments

username ummm???

username that last photo im gonna throw up i never want him to post a photo dump again

username what about OUR family charles? ME, your wife? OUR imaginary kids?

joris__trouche i hope you paid your photographer

charles_leclerc she said it was a free trial

username there's literally no way charles 'i am stupid' leclerc knows how to soft launch this has to be a joke

username i hope this brings ferrari such awful luck... no man who soft launches like this deserves happiness

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris, and 320,540 others

charles_leclerc new song releasing at midnight tonight on all platforms, we hope you'll like it 🎶

view all 2,340 comments

username i cant wait to be depressed for the rest of the week thank u charles

username im sorry... WE? who is WE?

username omg... is this a piano duet... between charles and his girlfriend???

joris__trouche i hope you're sharing the royalties

charles_leclerc nosy man

username the fact he's giving us literal crumbs like we have NOTHING to go off of

username he's just smarter than the rest of us, not letting us creep his girl

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, mickschumacher, yourusername, and 650,392 others

charles_leclerc what an incredible weekend in singapore. honoured to have had all the people i love with me this weekend for this win. i can never do this without you.

view all 5,321 comments

username do u think he put 'i can never do this without you' in a whole different sentence because it's directed at HER

username idk if i should call u delulu or smart bc 👀

username i am so fed up with this soft launch, stop being a coward and show her to us!!!

username comments like these are prolly why he's only soft launching... he doesn't want crazy fans to pull what they did with lando and luisa lol

pierregasly je suppose que ton porte-bonheur fait son travail 👀

charles_leclerc 🥰😁

charles_leclerc

liked by joris__trouche, pierregasly, landonorris and 692,941 others

charles_leclerc an extra special christmas, with an extra special person. joyeux noël to you all, may santa spoil you as much as he has spoiled me 🎅🏻

view all 4,523 comments

pierregasly joyeux noël from kika and i, looking forward to spending time with the both of you in the new year 🥂

joris__trouche impressive that this soft launch is still going, only ever seen you this dedicated about cars

username not joris saying exactly what we all have been thinking

username i cant believe no one has found her on anything

username charles hasn't given us anything to go off of, its like he's trying to make it difficult to find her

username omg y'all it HAS to be yourusername her story is them literally kissing!!!! im gonna scream!!!!!!

username she's followed by half the grid!!! kika has liked all her post over the last 2 YEARS omg

yourusername has posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, username, and 434 others

replies

charles_leclerc honoured to have been the one to kiss you for the last three christmases, hoping for hundreds more

charles_leclerc

tagged yourusername

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,235,029 others

charles_leclerc apparently i forgot to introduce the world to my beautiful wife? joyeux anniversaire mon amour 💗

view all 6,421 comments

username your WHAT

username his WIFE?!

username there is no way mr 'i am stupid' has hidden a whole WIFE and a whole MARRIAGE from us

pierregasly merde i am so excited to finally post the photos from your wedding

yourusername honoured to have spent the last year as mrs. charles leclerc, hoping for so many more

charles_leclerc hoping for forever

username MRS CHARLES LECLERC PLS IM KSFJHK

username i am screaming and throwing up, not even crying i cant even be heartbroken????

landonorris emotionally im not okay

yourusername you were at the wedding??? landonorris i love love, shut up.

if you've already seen this i apologize lol, i think there was some formatting issues with the prev post which resulted in it not showing up in the tags :( so total apologies for that! i hope you enjoy!! (i dont want to retag everyone and be annoying as well) if you'd like to be added to my tag list please feel free to reach out

also my requests are open if you're interested!

#charles leclerc #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

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msgexymunson · 11 months

Text

Forbidden Fruit Part 2

Description: Saying it's been awkward after your experience with Eddie Munson is an understatement. How will you survive a trip together?

A/N: WELL, you liked the first part so much I had to write part 2! Potential for a part 3 and 4 if you guys want it. If you do y'all better reblog ;)

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI or I'll tell a teacher on you, a LOT of angst, hella smut, fluff if you squint, voyeurism, spit play, hair pulling, fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex (don't be a dumb dumb) rough sex

4k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since your sordid encounter with your Dad's best friend. You thought about it every day, every hour. It has embedded itself into your mind like steel wool, an unscratchable itch that you're almost certain will never go away.

You'd only seen Eddie twice in that whole time. That was odd in itself, he only lived across the road. He was usually around every couple of days, even if it was to just have a coffee and a chat with your father. It felt very much like he was trying to make himself scarce.

The first time was barely even a glimpse; he'd been leaving his house as you'd been heading to college, driving there since it was close enough for you to still stay at home. You'd sent him a shy wave which was not returned. He just got in his car and reversed like a demon, tires screeching as he drove down the road.

The second time you were in the kitchen on your tippy toes, trying to reach the cereal that someone had placed on the top shelf as if to spite you. Feeling eyes on you, you looked around and saw him standing in the doorway.

"Eddie."

He ignored it, strode in and grabbed the cereal box with ease, slamming it on the counter in front of you with too much force making you flinch.

You tried again, fingers lightly resting on his arm.

"Eddie, I-"

"Don't." Was all he said, pulling his arm away as if you'd burned him. Tears had stung the corners of your eyes as he left without a look back. You'd abandoned your snack and ran upstairs to your room, to cry in peace.

So it was no surprise at all when you overheard your Dad saying Eddie was coming over to watch the game and it felt like your stomach dropped out from under you. You hid in your room, not wanting to face another gruff encounter whilst your stomach rumbled its dissent.

This is fucking stupid. He'd said that was it, you need to get over it. You shouldn't be scared to go into your own damn kitchen.

Steeling your nerves you go downstairs and start to make yourself a sandwich. You could hear Eddie's laugh echo from the TV room and it twisted a knife in your gut.

Your dad's voice rang out over the noise of the TV.

"You free next weekend Eddie?"

Oh fucking shit. You knew what he was talking about. You pray that Eddie says he's busy.

"Free as a bird, why what's happening?"

"Mandy's invited us to her lake house for the long weekend. You fancy a trip?"

Even from here you can sense Eddie's hesitation.

"Oh, I'm not sure that's a good idea?"

"Why? It'll be fun! I'm sure Mandy's got a thing for you, you know."

"Yeah, sure, I suppose I could come."

Fuck.

********************

Cue the most uncomfortable car ride in your life, squashed in the back seat with Eddie and thankfully a duffel bag in between providing a slight buffer. He was hunched in his seat, barely making eye contact with you.

Your mom turned in the passenger seat to face you.

"You alright Hon? You've hardly said a word."

"I'm fine, mom."

"You know, Jake will probably be there, Mandy's boy?" She waggled her eyebrows at you.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "he's a little, young for me."

"He's a year older than you! I thought you liked him?"

"He's fine, it's just… he's a boy." And I need a man. One particular man.

You couldn't fail to hear Eddie's snorting laugh that he tried to disguise as a cough.

As you arrive at the lake house, you rush out of the car to breathe air that wasn't laced with the scent of Eddie. Your thighs hurt from squeezing them together for the past two hours.

"Hey! Welcome!" Mandy's waving at you all as you get your bag from the car.

Your mom runs over and gives her a hug.

"Hey! So good to see you! Where's Jake?"

"Oh, he's come down with something, poor boy, he couldn't make it."

Well, there goes the plan you had wistfully thought of to make Eddie jealous.

Mandy shows everyone to their rooms. The lake house is gorgeous. Mandy must have gotten some huge settlement from her divorce. Your room is small but comfortable, a double bed, wardrobe and side tables all in a deep wood. The walls are wood panelled too, carvings of little animals and leaves all over. It puts you in mind of being in an enormous cuckoo clock.

Changing into your swimsuit, you grab a towel and head towards the lake for a swim.

This felt better. At least you could cool off, trying to escape the heat from the sun as well as the heat between your legs. The water is crisp and cold as you swim until you're shivering.

As you exit the water, arms tired, you look up to see Eddie on the deck, watching you.

You need to speak with him, try and clear the air. Moving towards him he stubs the cigarette he'd been smoking out and turns on his heel back to the house.

Anger started to bubble up, acidic in your throat. How dare he give you the most amazing sex of your life and just throw you away like some slut. You'd eaten in your room that night, feigning exhaustion.

Tip toeing out to grab a drink from downstairs thinking everyone had gone to bed, you hear the tinkle of laughter.

There he was, sitting on the couch with Mandy. She was fawning over him pathetically, her hand stroking his arm that rested on the back of the seat.

Great. Just great. Now he'll fuck Mandy and get married and live right opposite you with her. Fantastic.

Grabbing a water you flounced off to bed in a huff.

********************

Sitting up at the breakfast bar, you'd plastered your bravest face on and ate some pancakes, cutting them into little pieces and nibbling like a rabbit.

Eddie sauntered in, saying good morning to everyone, then he was taking a seat on the bar stool opposite you.

"Morning sweetheart."

You flashed angry eyes at him, and looked away, delivering a clipped "morning."

It was enough to shut him up. He filled a plate with pancakes and bacon, picking up a rasher and tearing into it with his teeth. Then he did the same with a pancake, ripping it into four and shoving a piece in his mouth.

He looked like a caveman. It was half amusing, and half a turn on. Watching him eat like an animal was doing something for you.

Mandy looked less amused.

"Um, there is cutlery, right there." She snipped.

"I know." He ignored the knives and forks, picking up the next piece of bacon and plunging it into his mouth. Your mom and dad shared an amused look.

He licked bacon grease off his fingers while looking straight at you, making your cheeks rapidly grow in heat. All you could think was that you wanted to wrestle that piece of bacon out of his mouth with your tongue, to smear your greasy lips together and have him throw you down on the counter top and fuck you until you see stars.

"Just going to get ready." You mumble, excusing yourself.

God damn why am I so wet? A shower, that'll help.

You stand under the stream of slightly too cold water and try to wrench the images away, but they are coming thick and fast.

Greasy fingers running over your skin. That tongue turning you into a whimpering mess. Plates smashing on the floor, food flying everywhere as he lifts you on the counter top and fucks you like an animal. The shower head was looking extremely tempting right now.

Right, get it out of your system, then face the day.

You unclip the shower head and turn the heat up slightly, moving the warm stream of water to your expectant lips. The water makes you gasp as you move the shower head around, finding your clit with a whimper.

And then the door flies open. Eddie stands there, frozen, face blushed the deepest pink.

You shout, "don't you know how to knock??" At the same time Eddie's rather hoarse voice yells "are you trying to kill me??"

Quickly exiting, he slams the door shut.

You hear your father call up to ask what's wrong. Eddie's muffled voice responds.

"Nothing, I just made your daughter jump."

The clipped emphasis on the word daughter rings in your head. You're unsure for whose benefit that was.

Am I trying to kill him? He's the one that barged in on me!! Why the fuck is he upset?

For the rest of the day you ignore him, opting to spend some quality time with your mom, attempting to push the weird encounter out of your head.

In the evening your parents announce they are going into town to a bar with Mandy.

"Eddie, you coming?" Your dad asks.

"No, I'm good, got a headache. Think I'll have an early night."

When everyone leaves you retire to your room, putting on some music and reading a book. You start to drift away, losing yourself in the words, feeling comfortable and less on edge.

There's a soft knock at the door. Ignoring it, you flick to the next page. Another, more insistent knock. Huffing and pulling your silk dressing gown around you, making sure everything important is covered, you shout out.

"Yeah?"

The door opens, and Eddie's standing there, looking very sorry for himself. He's only wearing a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, muscular frame and tattoos fully displayed.

"Can I come in?"

"So you can knock. What do you want?"

"Look, I want to apologise to you, I've been acting like an asshole."

You nod in agreement, eyes going back to your book, words a blur.

"You really have a headache?"

"No."

"Shame."

"Mandy kissed me last night, invited me back to her room."

Why the fuck is he telling you this?

"Oh yeah? how was she?" You spit back, venom lacing each word.

"I wouldn't know, I didn't go."

Speechless, you return his gaze. He comes into your room, shutting the door behind him, but doesn't move any further.

"Sweetheart, I can't stop thinking about you, about what we did. I've been fucking my fist like a teenager thinking about you. That's why I've been avoiding you. I smelled your perfume the other day and I got fuckin' hard. You weren't even there. It's pathetic."

A small smile creeps onto your face, smug to have had such an effect on him. You sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your hands as he explains further.

"I really want you, but we can't do this. It's so wrong. If your dad finds out I'm a dead man."

"Hey, he'll kill me too!" You respond.

"No sweetheart. He'd be disappointed in you. I'd be blamed for it. For- for defiling his daughter!"

You laugh out loud at that and his lips quirk into a nearly smile.

"You make it sound like you forced yourself on me. I kissed you first."

"True, but I asked. If I hadn't-"

"Eddie, trust me, sooner or later, I would have jumped your bones."

"Really?" He asks, surprised.

"Really. You're super hot." You admit.

His hand rubs the back of his neck compulsively. You see the nerves then, etched into his features, deepening the fine lines on his face.

Just his sheer presence is making your pussy pulse.

He walks over to you, standing over your form. Staring up at him, he looks like he wants to devour you whole.

"We can't do this, you know." He says again, but his hand is reaching to the tie of your dressing gown, pulling it undone. The flimsy fabric parts down your middle, showing a sliver of skin from your chest to your navel.

You nod back, breath hitching in your throat. "Yeah, we really shouldn't."

You let the dressing gown slip over your shoulder, exposing your left side, pert breast on display. Eddie groans.

"This is wrong." But his hand has other plans, sliding the other side off of your shoulder, so you're sitting there completely naked for him, gown pooling around your back.

"Yep. Super wrong. Naughty." You say, legs parting slightly. Eddie's smirk is debaucherous as he sinks to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs even wider.

Preamble forgotten, he forces his head between your legs and licks a fat stripe up your cunt. Throwing your head back at the onslaught of his tongue, you dig your heels into his back, forcing him closer if it were even possible.

"How the fuck," he says between dirty kisses to your clit, "do you taste so fucking good?"

He doesn't seem to want an answer, and you're entirely not in the position to provide one. You just mewl and buck into his face pathetically, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping on.

His tongue is everywhere, devouring you. It's messy, messier than you ever thought getting head could be. You could feel his spit and your own juices dripping down the crevice of your ass.

Legs quivering, you moan wantonly, gripping onto him with everything you have. He's moaning into you, almost as loud as you were.

Then he's pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit, his firm hands gripping your ass, grinding your body against his face. The pure, unbridled need pouring from him had you toppling over that edge.

"Holy fucking shit, Eddie!"

The intensity and power of your orgasm shocks you to your core, spilling out in a slew of profanities, limbs twitching uncontrollably.

Eddie doesn't stop licking into you until you drag him away by his hair.

Eddie's face is a picture, dripping with slick; his smile is broad, lighting up his face as if he'd just been to heaven and tasted the finest ambrosia.

He leans over you, hooking one finger into your mouth, pulling at your jaw.

"Open."

Your jaw flops open at his command. He spits then, directly into your mouth. Eyes widening in surprise, you taste the savoury edge of his spit intermingled with the sweet tang of your cunt as it slides down your tongue.

"Swallow." He orders, eyes dark.

You close your lips around his finger, swallowing hard and sucking the tip of his finger.

"Fuck you are perfect, my dirty fucking girl." He says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You moan at his words, breath speeding up, feeling dizzy and hot all over.

"You like that don't you? Being a dirty girl?" He smirks.

"I like being yours." You admit, feeling slightly bashful.

He cups your face gently with his hand, a queer look in his eye, before leaning towards your ear and whispering, "mine."

Writhing under him, pinned by his body, you can only whimper as he sinks teeth into your neck.

Pushing a needy tongue in your mouth, he gives you an earth shattering kiss, of salt and cigarettes and sweetness. You reciprocate, hands running over naked flesh as you push your chest against him.

"I need you. Now." He says as he climbs off, frantically pulling his sweatpants off and flinging them to the side, his impressive member standing almost painfully to attention.

You give a startled yelp as he grabs you by the ankles and flips you over.

"Hands and knees for me, my good girl."

You scramble on all fours, waiting for the breach of his tip, when you feel his thumb press on your asshole.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You shout. It had made you jump, but you couldn't deny that you liked it.

"Bet you'd let me fuck you in the ass if I asked sweetheart." Entirely unprepared for that, you whip your head around. He just laughs.

"Don't worry, not tonight baby." He says as he rubs his tip over your folds, spreading your wetness even further.

Then he's pushing and pushing into you, balls deep. You both let out a groan of satisfaction as he starts ploughing into you hard and rough.

"This pussy is fuckin unreal," you hear him mutter behind you, gripping on your hips so tight its bordering on painful. You allow yourself to be used, pushing back into him as much as you can, but it's impossible keeping up with his brutal pace.

Feeling your hands stiff against the bed, your elbows are shaking, on the edge of giving up. You feel Eddie's hand gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail and twist it in his hand, pulling you upright. A lightning bolt shoots down your spine at the animalistic gesture.

He's now hitting that sweet spot inside you on each thrust, the slapping of skin and slick echoing through the room with your pornographic moans.

"Oh God, Eddie, I'm gonna come-"

"No, no please," he slows, letting go of your hair, making you fall to the bed.

"I need to see it, I need to see you. Turn around."

You turn, feeling him slip out of you, and shove him to the side, hard. It takes him entirely by surprise and he falls onto his back, hands up as if he's afraid he did something wrong.

Taking his shock as an opportunity you clamber on his lap, gripping his swollen cock hard at the base, lining him up with your entrance. Eddie's look of surprise turns into a lecherous grin, hands resting on your waist.

Sitting on him, sheathing him once again within your silky walls, you look him in the eye.

"How dare you mess with my orgasm again." Your words are hard, but you're smiling.

He laughs, rubbing at your hips.

"Oh I'm sorry, my poor sweetheart," words positively dripping sarcasm, complete with pouting lower lip. Clenching around his cock, you struggle to even register that him mocking you is such a turn on.

You push at his chest with one hand, and start grinding into him, firm and slow. Eddie looks like he's about to bust already at your movements, eyes darting from your own, to your tits, to your cunt.

"What- what were you thinking of? In the shower?" His words have a quiver to them, a flash of pride bursts across your chest at the fact you're doing this to him, getting him in such a state.

"I was thinking," you say breathlessly, "about tongue wrestling that bit of bacon out of your mouth and you fucking me on the kitchen counter."

"Fuuuck" He replies, eyes rolling back, "you are something else."

All of a sudden it's hitting just right. You don't feel like you'd moved but it's definitely different. Your whole body is buzzing with sensation as you roll your hips against him. Needing to grip onto something, anything, you don't risk changing the angle and instead twine your fingers into your own hair.

"Oh my God, oh fuckfuckfuck!"

Eddie's mouth hangs open as he watches you unravel. You feel your entire body pulse out what may be the best orgasm of your life. It rolls in waves around you, over you, through you. Grinding down hard, you keep it going. And going. Until it stops, or nearly stops. It's as if you are looking down at that edge yet again, on the brink of falling off.

"Fuck Eddie don't you dare move," you struggle out, rubbing over him, juices squelching obscenely with each thrust of your hips. He's beyond words, just biting his lip and nodding.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna come again, oh!"

Screaming into the night, it forces out of you again, almost as powerful as the last one. Your whole body is shaking like a leaf, completely stunned. Realising you're still gripping into your hair, you let go, feeling a sting on your scalp.

"Holy shit." You laugh out, limbs convulsing of their own accord.

"That was, fuck sweetheart, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

You smile, fingers stroking up and down his chest.

"Think you can give me one more?" He asks, eyebrows raising.

"Eddie, I don't-"

"Shh, sweetheart, just one more, I'm gonna come, come with me."

You begin to grind, moving against his length once more, clit dragging across slickened hair making you whimper. Your legs are protesting but you want to give it to him.

He helps you, hands on your hips dragging you back and forth, praising every thrust.

"That's it baby."

"Just a little more."

"You can take it."

"My good sweet girl."

Until you release again, together, wetness squirting out of you, voice hoarse with a stuttered moan that seemed to bubble up from deep inside your chest cavity. Eddie groans out, hissing at the feeling as he releases his cum deep into your cunt.

Melting, a puddle of a woman, your body pours over his, bones a distant memory.

"I think my soul left my body for a minute there," you murmur into his sweaty neck. His laugh rumbles from his chest and vibrates into yours, hand resting sweetly on the back of your head.

Both laying there for a minute, you know what needs to happen, but you're loath to admit it. Reality is looming and neither of you want to look it in the eye.

Eddie breaks the spell.

"I need to go sweetheart," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I know." You whisper back. Neither of you move.

"Did you mean it?" You ask, voice as small as you can muster.

"What?"

"That I'm yours?"

You feel Eddie's breath, the silence stretching just a little too much. You stop breathing in anticipation. Finally, he responds.

"Yes. Yes I meant it."

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celestie0 · 5 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch. 4 a day in the life of a hot soccer player

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 4/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 3.4k

a/n. yay for gojo pov chapter! i originally tried writing this from reader's pov but it wasn't really working for some reason so i switched it up.

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Gojo Satoru was never really the type of guy to be serious to just one woman. He had a sort of rotation of women that he'd go through every couple of weeks. Now wait, before you think he's an asshole, he once tried to have a serious girlfriend in college. But he quickly realized that it's really difficult to coordinate down time. When he's taking an exam, she's calling to ask if he's free. When he's off practice, she's got work. Once a week ended up being all he could really see her. And for a guy with a sex drive as high as his, that just wasn't enough. But having multiple women meant more chances of at least one of their schedules lining up with when he’s free, and bam, he was getting laid on a consistent basis. Okay, now you can think he's an asshole.

He knew he was a bit of a slut, a manwhore, a player, whatever the girls in his Instagram comments liked to tease him about. But it felt good to be those things because for some weird reason it gave him confidence. It was just a stupid, primal, egotistic, caveman feeling that's probably carved into the DNA of every man out there. He can't help it.

Turns out he just really likes it when people rely on him. He likes it when his teammates entrust him with the winning goal during the final moments of a match, he likes it when women put their pleasure at his mercy during sex, and something within his stupid, primal, egotistic, caveman mind really liked it when you had that intent spark in your eye asking him to help you achieve something for your dreams.

Gojo lay in his bed, ankles crossed and rested up on a pile of folded laundry at the end of the bed. One of his hands was tucked behind his head that was resting on a couple of pillows, and his other hand was scrolling through his phone.

This weekend’s party was a bit more exclusive with each member of the frat only getting two invites for the list. There were restricted parties like this in the past, and Gojo very rarely used his plus-ones/twos. Most of his friends were already from the frat, and most of the hot sorority girls would be invited by other dudes anyways. But this time, he was considering inviting you.

His mind wanders to that first night he met you at that party. You looked slightly different in person compared to your photos, a bit edgier than the soft persona captured by the candids on your social media that your friends took of you. Gojo scoffs at himself when he remembers how worked up he got over the belief that this random girl he Instagram DM’d was insinuating she would be down to fuck that night, some arrangement where he shows her a damn good time as a reward for bringing her roommate to his friend. It was a pretty sexy scenario in his head. Despite the hindsight he has now, for Gojo that kind of thing wasn’t an insane thing to assume. Excuse him for sounding a bit arrogant, but women tended to blatantly throw themselves at him pretty much everywhere he went. And besides, you were cute, so maybe a part of it was just his wishful thinking, too.

You were like a deer in headlights at that party. He watched as you looked around the room at one point in the night, searching for something before you disappeared into a hallway. When he finally had you alone to himself in the kitchen, and he realized all you wanted to drink all night was water, the prospect of a casual hookup seemed to be slipping further and further away from his grasp.

But his chest filled with a different, unfamiliar feeling when you mentioned what you really wanted from him, and he’s been chasing that feeling ever since.

Right now, he just wanted to see you again. He hated how you seemed to just abruptly leave any time the two of you were together, which has only been twice so far, but still. He wanted to see you in something that wasn’t just a plain t-shirt and jeans (although that was definitely his favorite clothing on a woman most of the time). He wanted to know what you were like when you were a little bit tipsy, maybe even a little bit drunk. Were you talkative? Emotional? Touchy? Flirty?

Gojo’s thumb hovers over the Instagram chat that had your name on it. He should really just ask you for your number at this point.

When Gojo clicked on the chat and used it to go to your profile, he noticed you posted some more photos. Just a slideshow of your life recently. Some pictures of flowers you spotted on what looked like a bike ride judging from the shadow, a cake you baked recently for a friend’s birthday, a snapshot of a cat running away in an alleyway. The last picture was a black and white photo looking through a soccer goal net towards a tree in the distance, and Gojo quickly recognized it as the one on UTokyo’s practice field.

His thumb double taps the post and then he’s back to the page with your messages. He had reached out to you again after Monday's practice saying that the team was doing another practice match on Thursday, which was yesterday, but you mentioned you were busy working on something for a club you’re in.

An iMessage notification pops up at the top of his phone from one of his frat brothers.

|| 3:12pm ryota the GOATa: gotta finish sending out qr codes. you got the names/insta handles for your invites tonight? or you just not gonna invite anyone like usual?

He sighs, wondering what to do, when he ultimately decides against inviting you. You were probably busy with something anyways, and he didn't want to experience the disappointment of you saying you can't come if he does ask, fearing that there might be a reason that didn’t have anything to do with an accumulating pile of class assignments. It’s a bit of a cop out, he knows that, but whatever. You very clearly told him that the two of you weren’t friends.

He types out a message that reads yea my homie @ThePope, pls. Also, your mom to which Ryota replies fuck off.

Even though there was no practice today, Gojo felt like he just needed to get out of the house for a bit. There were too many thoughts in his head, most of them about you, and he didn’t like it. He wants to be smooth-brained Gojo that just thinks about soccer and partying. He slides his legs over to the edge of his bed and sits up, inhaling and exhaling harshly, before standing up in resolution and heading to his closet. He pulls his soft cotton t-shirt over his head in favor of an athletic long sleeve and pulls on a pair of sweatpants over his SpongeBob boxer briefs (don’t make fun of him, please).

When Gojo opens his door, he’s hit with the smell of food cooking and with the noise of two of his roommates, probably Sota and Hide, yelling profanities with video game sound effects in the background. He walks downstairs, pushing his left arm through the sleeve of his shirt.

“Hey, where are you going? We don’t have practice today,” Geto asks from the kitchen as he flips his quesadilla on the pan, spilling a bunch of its contents everywhere. “Shit.”

“I know we don’t,” Gojo says, tilting his neck from side to side to loosen it up. “Just going for a run.” He extends his right arm across his chest, holding it in a stretch, and grunts a little.

“Ah, yes, our star player,” Geto muses as he wipes the counter down.

Gojo twists his torso to stretch out his back and releases a slow exhale from how good it felt. “Gotta keep that stamina up,” he says, “for more reasons than one.”

Geto lets out an annoyed sigh from where he’s washing his hands at the sink. They both watch Hide almost chuck his controller at the TV before Sota stops him. By the entryway, Gojo slips on his running shoes and puts his airpods in his ears, then he’s out the door.

The weather is nice. It’s pretty sunny, a bit hotter than Gojo was expecting, but he wanted to work up a sweat anyways. He taps at his smartwatch and realizes his running app isn’t working, so he shrugs and just decides to guess what running six miles feels like.

As he’s running, his mind wanders to you again. The last time he saw you out on the field, you had a strange expression on your face. It seemed like you were in a rush to leave, which is fine, but it was like you refused to make eye contact with him. Was it something he said? Or something he did? It probably was, he had a habit of fucking things up with people sometimes, but he doesn’t really know what he could’ve done for you to avoid him. Your messages back to him have been pretty curt and weirdly polite, too.

Somewhere lost in his thoughts, six miles turns into twelve and he’s drenched in sweat by the time he makes it back to the house at around 6PM. Taking two steps at a time up the stairs, he gets into the shower and gets himself fresh, then throws on a black t-shirt, some black joggers, and non-cartoon-related underwear.

He finally checks his phone for the first time after coming home from his run and sees a bunch of new DMs and messages but none were from you. And the fact that he was still thinking about you after running nearly half a marathon had him annoyed. Which is why he’s grateful for the party tonight. Alcohol and sex typically made most things better.

When Gojo runs into Geto in the loft and asks him about his plans tonight, Geto says he’s got an essay to write so he’ll leave for the house party probably closer to midnight. Gojo calls Nanami, who says he’s not going until Geto gets there because until then there would be no one to buffer Gojo’s fucking idiocracy throughout the night (his exact words). Apparently, Chosou’s still sick with food poisoning. When he checks with Hide and Sota, they say they’re going to go but only after pregaming at a sorority party, which Gojo has no patience for. Todo says he’ll be there from dusk ‘til dawn, of course. He sees a bunch of texts in the fraternity group chat that he has muted, as well as a lot of DMs from girls, asking when he’s going to show up but he doesn’t respond to anyone and decides to just go whenever he feels like it.

He ends up leaving home by himself at around 11pm, the walk to the host house taking eight minutes. He walks by some other houses that were having incredibly crowded parties, probably for the people that weren’t invited out to this one, and the smell of weed in the air causes him to scrunch his nose. When he walks up the driveway of the house, he sees Ryota at the door, scanning people’s phones and ushering them inside.

“Hey, man,” Gojo greets Ryota with a solid grab of his hand and slap on the back.

“What’s up, dude.” He returns the greeting.

“Did your mom make it?” Gojo asks.

“Just get the fuck inside,” Ryota says, pointing to the entrance behind him with his thumb.

When Gojo enters the house, the flashing lights temporarily blind him until his eyes quickly readjust. The DJ had the bass-boosted all the way up to where Gojo could feel the music in his bones and his lips curl up into a smile at the excitement running through his veins. It was mostly dark inside, except for the sporadic lighting from the couple of light fixtures near the DJ’s console, and people seemed to move in slow motion as they were briefly illuminated every other second.

Gojo hears some people call his name, but he makes it straight towards the back where he knows the drinks are and downs a couple of shots of tequila before he even considers talking to a single person.

“Yo, dude, you’re here,” he hears Sota say from behind him and he turns around. Sota and Hide are both barely standing up straight with their arms around two sorority girls each. It seems somewhere along the night the two of them had lost their shirts. “Did Geto come with you?”

Gojo shakes his head, making eye contact with one of the girls that was tucked to Hide’s side. “Nah, he’s still working on his essay.” Sota mutters something like lame and Gojo notices the girl miming an obvious blowjob gesture while looking him straight in the eyes. He ignores it and turns around to face the drinks table again, working on mixing himself a drink. He was clearly not shit-faced enough to deal with anything right now.

There’s people yelling in the backyard and Gojo spots Yuuji through the window doing a keg stand outside. He’s about to make his way over there to bear witness too until someone’s grabbing at the back of his shirt.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Gojo fucking Satoru,” he hears a voice call and he sighs, turning around.

Shoko’s standing in front of him, wearing an extremely cropped shirt and a denim skirt, with a couple of her friends by her side.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Shoko fucking Ieiri,” he mimics her with a smirk on his face, “oh, and, uh, friends? Never met you two before.”

One of the girls beside her rolls her eyes. “We’ve fucked like twice,” she scowls, crossing her arms, and then she looks up at the ceiling to ponder something before looking back down at him again, “actually, I’m pretty sure three times.”

“You’re not the only one with a busted memory, sweetheart,” he says and he’s about to continue towards the backyard when Shoko walks in front of him, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him backwards a bit, the movement causing some of the drink in his hand to spill. She’s standing up on her tiptoes and then clenching the fabric of his shirt in her hand, pulling him down towards her.

“You in the mood to make out tonight?” she asks him, biting down on her lip, and Gojo’s eyes are quick to watch the action.

“Sure, but later,” he says casually. Again, not quite shit-faced enough to deal with any of this yet. He grabs her wrist and pulls her hand from his shirt then makes it to the backyard, exchanging greetings with some of his frat brothers on the way there, and makes work of the absolutely horrendous cocktail he’s mixed up for himself as he watches Yuuji entertain the masses.

The night goes on, Gojo getting progressively more alcohol into his system until he’s worked up a steady buzz and finds himself about ready to do a backflip off the patio roof in front of a bunch of cheering people when Geto has to convince him to get down.

“Dude, I’ve literally been here for two minutes,” Geto grumbles.

Gojo slings his arm around his best friend, half in camaraderie and half for support. “I missed you, man, where have you been?” Gojo drawls in Geto’s ears, clearly a bit drunk, and Geto doesn’t even bother answering him as he’s walking him back inside.

When the two of them spot Sota and Hide by a beer pong table, they make their way over. Gojo sobers up a bit when he realizes Todo isn’t there.

“Yo, where’s the king of beer pong at?” Gojo asks, his speech slightly slurred.

Nanami, who had his arms crossed and was leaning back against the wall, shrugs slightly. “He said he’d come later.”

“But he said he’d be here from dusk ‘til dawn!” Gojo’s whining loudly near Geto’s ear and the dark-haired man winces at the volume.

“Alright, let’s sit down,” Geto says and the two of them make their way to the set of couches in the center of the living room where some people were chatting, some were (hopefully) sleeping, and others were getting handsy.

Gojo slumps down on one of the couches, relishing in the comfort, and when he spots Chosou next to him he’s convinced he’s hallucinating. “What the fuck, aren’t you supposed to be sick?”

Chosou shrugs and glances up at Gojo from the screen of his phone, leg bouncing up and down impatiently. “Nah, I was never sick. Just had an exam to study for and had to get out of practice somehow.”

Gojo’s about to get angry at him but instead he just sinks further into the couch and throws his head back to look up at the ceiling, a sudden wave of melancholy washing over him. He was at this party, alcohol running through his veins, yet there was this feeling inside of him that he just couldn’t shake. It was some type of disappointment, an emptiness, like despite everything going on around him he was still missing something.

“This seat taken?”

He tips his head back down and sees Shoko in front of him. His line of sight follows the direction of her pointed finger until he sees that she’s gesturing to his lap where he was very obnoxiously man-spreading.

“Nah, but I was saving it for you,” he says with a grin and she’s rolling her eyes as she takes a seat on his thigh. She seems a bit tipsy herself, giggling at the pinch he gives her at her hip. Ah, yes, Gojo realizes the emptiness he was feeling was probably from the fact that he has yet to get laid tonight.

“Satoruuuu, take me upstairs,” she’s purring in his ear and he shakes his head.

“Jesus, Shoko, relax,” he hisses, already feeling arousal building up inside him. But he himself had no interest in putting any of this on pause.

The details are irrelevant, but she’s gotten him up on his feet, her hand wrapped around his wrist, and dragging him along with her upstairs. Somewhere in Gojo’s hazed and horny mind, he swears he hears a familiar voice downstairs, one that makes his heart skip a beat in his chest, but Shoko’s busy pulling him into the dark hallway upstairs and eventually into the bathroom.

Gojo closes the door behind him, watching as Shoko quickly hops up onto the counter, and it’s not long before she spreads her thighs for him to take his place in front of her and start kissing her. Her hands grab onto his shirt, impatient with the fabric, and he starts trailing kisses down her neck as she wraps her legs around his waist.

“Hey…” she sighs when his mouth reaches her collarbone, “d-did you lock the door?”

“Huh? Yeah, think so,” he mumbles against her skin, hand playing with the hem of her top.

Those were Gojo’s famous last words when the two of them suddenly heard the door open, hinges creaking, and in his periphery he sees that it’s opened almost half-way when the movement stops.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” a voice squeaks out and Gojo’s blood runs cold. He turns his head to face the entrance of the bathroom, and then he sees you.

You, in your plain t-shirt and jeans, standing in the hallway with your hand wrapped around the doorknob, blinking as the recognition of his face registers in your mind.

Gojo Satoru was never really the type of guy to be serious to just one woman. Yet for some reason, when he sees you staring at him with wide eyes, and with the faintest hint of hurt in your expression, what he was doing suddenly felt so wrong.

a/n. thanks soooo much for reading!

➸ take me to chapter five!

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reiderwriter · 5 months

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Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3

I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.

The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)

I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">

A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!

Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI

It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.

You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.

You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.

You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.

You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.

JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.

He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.

“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.

He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.

“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.

“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”

“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”

Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.

“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”

“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”

“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.

“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.

–X–

After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.

Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.

You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.

The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.

You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.

“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.

Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.

You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.

“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.

More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.

“Spencer! What's… what are…”

“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”

You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.

“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”

His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.

“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”

“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”

His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.

His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.

“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”

His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.

Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.

He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.

He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.

You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.

It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.

The next one was harder though. It was real.

“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.

“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”

His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.

The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.

You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.

You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.

“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.

It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.

It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.

He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.

“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.

“Y-Yes, Spencer.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”

With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.

With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.

With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.

It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.

You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.

His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.

You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.

Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.

And most importantly, he didn't stop.

Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.

“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.

“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”

“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.

“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”

“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”

Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.

But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.

“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”

“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”

He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.

“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.

When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.

After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.

He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.

“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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sebscore · 1 year

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do female driver and her side of the garage shenanigans. Like her and her team just being besties and entertaining. Love your work can’t wait to see what you do next!

MONTE-CARLO MADNESS

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: swearing. slight slander of two dutchmen (nothing too serious). mention of checo’s quali crash last year.

author's note: i was bored during the race so i wrote this :) I know it’s not exactly what you asked, but it does include more of her and marco 💜 (also, I know that gif is from 2021, but it was too beautiful not to use lol)

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Y/N!'' A hand on her shoulder pulled her attention away from her conversation with her engineer, and to the older German man next to her. ''Norbert! Hey, how are you?''

''I'm in Monaco!'' He exclaimed, pulling the young woman in a hug.

The driver's face broke out in a smile, endeared by Norbert's excitement over being in the foreign country. ''Yeah, you are!'' She laughed, her face resting on his shoulder.

''Can I get a hug too?''

Her eyes widened as she recognised the voice, pulling away from the older man, she was met with the bright smile of Sebastian. ''Seb!''

Y/N almost jumped into her mentor's arms, delighted to see him for the first time in months. ''What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming.'' She held an accusing but disbelieving tone, shocked to see him in Monte-Carlo out of all races.

''Surprise!'' He joked, holding up his arms as if it were a surprise party.

The woman slapped his arm in return. ''When did you get here?'' She asked him, still in shock about the former driver's appearance.

''Just now, my dad and Fabian got here yesterday- I came by car.'' Sebastian answered, pointing at his father who was busy catching up with the Aston Martin team.

''Of course you did,'' Y/N chuckled at the mention of his transport, ''are you staying here the entire weekend?''

The German shook his head. ''No, just today- Stefano invited me, I'll be there for the driver's briefing, though.'' He clarified, pouting at the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

''That's nice, everyone will be happy to see you.'' She was slightly let down about his one-day visit, having hoped he would at least watch qualifying on Saturday.

Sebastian nodded. ''Yeah, it will be nice to see all the drivers again.''

''You know,'' Y/N spoke up, catching his attention, ''retirement doesn't really suit you- I think you should come back.'' She smirked, a mischievous grin on her face.

The older man let out a chuckle, shaking his head. ''I put on some nice clothes for you today, I'm hurt.'' He feigned to be hurt by her words, an overdramatic pout hanging on his lips.

''It's definitely better than the usual attire, for sure.'' The driver glanced his outfit up and down, the man wearing blue pants and a white loose shirt.

Sebastian simply laughed, scratching his voice. ''So, uh, how are you feeling about the race?'' He asked her.

Y/N unsurely nodded her head, not too confident. ''The car felt good today so I think there's a good chance for pole.'' The first free practice of the GP had gone well, taking the second top spot right before Lewis.

''Well, I'm quite confident you're gonna take pole.'' Sebastian retorted, matter-of-factly.

The young woman snorted at his response. ''Thanks, I'll keep that in mind when I'm in the car.''

The German patted her shoulder. ''I hope you win,'' he confessed, a serious expression on his face, ''I like Max, but the Dutch anthem is not to my taste.'' Sebastian grinned

''You won last year. Who says you can't do it again or at least make it onto the podium?'' He didn't expect an answer out of her, he just wanted her to feel more confident in herself and especially at a circuit she had consecutively done well at.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Last year, I got lucky with Checo's crash during quali and with the Ferrari strategy. The Red Bulls are way too fast, Seb. I'll be happy with a podium.''

The young driver knew a win would be practically impossible if either one of the RBR cars made it in front of her in qualifying. The previous year, she managed to qualify P3 behind the two red cars and due to Ferrari's disaster class, she was the first to take the chequered flag.

''But you still held up the Red Bulls last year, you're being too negative.'' Sebastian argued, discontent about her certainty that she wouldn't win again.

''It's whatever, anyway- I have to discuss some things with Marco. I'll see you later?'' Y/N made the move to leave, sticking out her fist.

Sebastian bumped his fist against hers. ''Yes, Turn that frown upside down, Y/N!'' He yelled after her as she walked away, resulting in a joking middle finger from the young woman.

''What's the best time now? I have one more lap in me, if I need to.'' Y/N asked her engineer over the radio, on an out lap.

There was silence on the other side for a few seconds. ''Uh, the leaderboard is very chaotic right now, it changes every time a driver crosses the line.''

''Who is on top now?''

''De Vries.''

''Are you fucking serious?''

She knew Monaco qualifying would be absolute madness, but an Alpha Tauri on top of the leaderboard? She was not expecting that.

''Push for one more lap- we're safe, but everything is changing very fast.'' Marco encouraged her to do one more flying lap, wanting to be confident they made it into the next round of qualifying.

Y/N was the last car on the circuit starting her last lap right before the time of the quali session ran out. She had the fastest second sector and crossed the line, moving up to P2 and being safe from elimination.

''We're good, nice job!'' Marco complimented her, confirming that she made it into Q2.

''He he, that was a little scary.''

''You gotta push like a beast now, Y/N! Verstappen on pole now and no one is behind you.'' Marco's words sounded over the radio, doing his best to hype her up as this was their last chance to take the pole position.

''Copy.'' She simply answered, before starting her flying lap.

''Y/L goes faster than Verstappen in the first sector. Look at how she's pushing the car to its limits! It's absolutely unbelievable!'' Crofty's voice boomed through the speakers.

''A purple second sector as well! Is Y/L going to take her first pole position in Monaco? She's very close!'' Ted continued, his eyes glued to the big screen.

''UNBELIEVABLE STUFF! Y/N Y/L TAKES THE POLE POSITION HERE IN MONACO! SHE SURPASSES THE RED BULL OF MAX VERSTAPPEN TO SET THE FASTEST TIME! WHAT A PERFORMANCE BY THE TALENTED YOUNG WOMAN! WHAT A LAP!'' The commentators couldn't believe it as they saw her name rising to the very top of the leaderboard, not expecting her to set a better time than the Red Bull car.

''YOU DID IT! POLE POSITION, Y/N! YOU DROVE LIKE A MANIAC!'' Marco shouts over the radio, trying his best to give his congrats as their entire team jumps around him.

Her eyes widened as she took in the news. ''I'M ON POLE? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WOOOOO!!! MONACO BABY!'' The driver loudly exclaimed, so loud that her team had to remove their headphones from their ears.

''Guys, I'm so proud of all of you! Everyone worked so hard and this is for the entire team, thank you so much!'' Y/N expressed her appreciation for her team, knowing she couldn't have done it without them.

She made it to Parc Fermé and parked behind the No. 1 standee, already seeing Charles and Max there. It took her some time to get out of the car as it was difficult to turn everything off with shaking hands.

The young woman stood on top of her car and threw her hands in the air, pointing at her team who cheered for her- along with the crowd who went crazy at the sudden turn of events.

She ran to her team, immediately hugging Marco upon spotting him at the front of the fence. ''I told you to drive like a beast, not a maniac!'' He laughed, patting her back.

''I don't remember anything from that lap, I think I blacked out.'' Y/N told him, pulling away from him and shaking the hands of the rest of the team.

Charles was the first one of the drivers to congratulate her. ''That was crazy, congrats.'' The former Prema teammates hugged each other.

''Thanks, it was absolute chaos out there,'' she sighed, taking off her helmet and balaclava, ''I know you wanted a different result, but you still did well.'' The younger one told the Ferrari driver who simply brushed it off.

''You fucker!'' A sudden slap on her arm, took her focus off Charles. ''How did you do that?''

She found the smiling face of Max, holding out his hand for a typical driver's greeting. ''Dude, I don't know! I for sure thought it was over for me.'' She told him, a shocked expression still on her face.

''Congrats, you deserve it.'' The Dutchman praised her, a genuine tone found.

Y/N nodded her head at him. ''Thanks, appreciate it.''

''It's the three of us again.'' The Red Bull driver laughed, pointing at the three of them as it was also the same trio in Baku, just a different order.

Charles sighed. ''I have to meet with the stewards after the interviews so I don't know if I'm gonna stay at P3.'' He told them, confusing the two other drivers.

''What do you mean?'' Y/N asked him.

''Lando was on a flying lap and I got in his way- in the tunnel.'' The Monégasque explained, informing them on the unfortunate moment.

Max frowned. ''That's not good, no. You didn't saw him coming?''

''The team didn't tell me.'' Charles answered, holding in the urge to roll his eyes.

''They didn't tell you that Lando was coming? That's fucked up.'' The youngest one said, puzzled on why this even happened in the first place.

The Ferrari driver shook his head. ''I'm gonna get a penalty for a mistake I didn't make.'' The defeated look on Charles' face upsetted both of his competitors, disappointed that the Monaco curse had found its way to him again.

A silence fell upon them, not knowing what to say as the three of them were all feeling very different emotions after the chaotic qualifying session.

''Well, I'm gonna grab my award.'' Y/N sheepishly smiled, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.

The two men nodded at her as she walked away, but she turned around as a thought came into her brain. ''Oh and Charles?''

''Yes?''

''Tell them it was just an inchident.''

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#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 x female driver #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc x you #max verstappen x you #sebastian vettel x you

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russellsppttemplates · 6 months

Text

It's like we won't even be there (Lewis Hamilton)

Mercedes has three power couples

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time, I'm finally posting this request.

my masterlist

Tw: mentions gender inequality, misogynistic ideals

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Everyone on social media has an inkling that you're bringing someone to the race. Is it your belle, Mr. Hamilton?", you teased your boyfriend as he got ready for bed.

You had arrived in Abu Dhabi a few hours earlier, caught a cab to the hotel where your boyfriend had been resting before media day.

"Is that so?", he wondered, "I haven't told anyone outside the team. And even them, I told them you would be joining as my guest, only a few people actually know about us", he assured.

"I don't mind it, we'll have to be public at some time. Three years dating outside of the public eye, plus another year of what the kids call soft launching, whatever happens this weekend, happens", you tranquilized him.

This had been an ongoing conversation for you for as long as you've dated. His lifestyle came with many implications, particularly not always being home and public eye. You also spent a lot of time focused on your job, building the company now associated to your name to the people in the finance business, so the latter question was the biggest one. While you were successful, it hardly impacted your life when it came to the public eye or social media. You had your accounts, sure, but they were private and they never got in the way of your job.

"I just don't want people to lash out on you", he replied, sitting next to you on the bed, his fingers tracing shapes in your hand, "I've seen how brutal they can be, I've felt how brutal they can be, and I don't want that for you. They'll gossip because that's how things work, but I don't want them breaking the respect line.", Lewis stated.

"Lew, I understand and appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. I have you, our families, our friends, I'm going to be just fine. I don't know how they'll react, so I'll work with whatever happens", you smiled, snuggling into him as he caressed your face.

"Good morning, Y/N! How have you been? I haven't seen you in so long!", Carmen said as she hugged you once you arrived in the hospitality, Lewis kissing your cheek briefly before he headed for his meeting.

"Hello, gorgeous girl! I've been good, and you?", you greeted her with a kiss on each cheek after saying goodbye to Lewis.

"Same old, busy but managed to come and support G this weekend. You, however, seem to finally let it out", she smirked, walking with you to the coffee station and serving yourselves, sitting in the balcony as you overlooked the track.

"There's no point in keeping it a secret, I guess. We did it for a while, and this past year we both realised that we want to be able to go out and not be worried someone will see us and whatever consequences it could bring. We're adults who hope other adults will behave like such", you smiled.

"A hard thing to do sometimes, for them at least", you heard a female voice coming closer to you, "I don't believe we've met before, but Toto said you were hanging out here", the blonde woman said.

Suzie Wolff had been someone you looked up to since you were little, so this was a proper fangirl moment, "sit, sit! This is Y/N!", Carmen introduced after giving her a brief introduction.

"I keep missing you whenever you join us for the races!", she said, "the pandemic didn't help, and lately I've been so busy with the F1 Academy that I've hardly been to races myself", she reasoned, beginning the start of a conversation that was only interrupted for lunchtime.

"Press usually have a field day with powerful women related to this sport. You should be able to get away with it because you don't work for racing, but they love going on and on about how we got to where we are because of who we date", Suzie shook her head.

"Absolutely, because George is very interested in Family Offices and he got me my job", Carmen rolled her eyes, "you try and give that guy math stuff and you see how it turns out! Besides, not many people actually knew who he was, they're not very into motorsport, only a couple of them!", she teased.

"Agreed! The only way I was able to have my own company was because I name dropped Lewis, who I didn't know at the time. He doesn't know his numbers all that well. It's so easy for them to point fingers, but it's really just because they hate to see a powerful woman get the job done", you offered, seeing your partners arrive to the table along Laura.

"Social media is going crazy about you, Y/N!", Laura, one of the team's social media managers said while you had lunch, "there's people who spent the whole morning trying to find out who you were and they were faling to find your accounts. Apparently, they were looking in model agencies and such until someone pointed out you studied at the same university as them, and it's pointed them in the right direction I'd say?", she shrugged her shoulders, showing you her phone as she scrolled through media, "they're still trying to find out more, but they only have a few articles from your company and a picture of you when you graduated that is on the university's Wall of Fame!", she made you giggle, fondly looking at the wall of pictures you saw everyday on your way to lectures.

"Are you on the Wall of Fame and didn't tell us, Y/N?", Carmen exclaimed at the new information, "it's barely anything, I'm still there probably because someone forgot to remove the picture", you blushed, suddenly feeling like the table's attention was on you.

"Why would they take out the picture of the most beautiful woman with the most achievements?", Lewis charmed, holding your hand in his as he smiled.

"Are you guys ready for the race? If all goes well, we can get back to the points!", Suzie cheered as she handed you and Carmen your bottles of water.

"Lew has been beating himself up a lot lately, hopefully everything works in their favour", you held your hands together after setting the water bottle on the counter.

It was very touch and go, but the boys ended up with good results given the position they started in.

"Congrats, my love!", you said in Lewis' ear as he squeezed your torso over the barrier, delighting the sight of everyone who was watching and seeing the happy couple, "couldn't have done it without you, gorgeous girl", he yelled back, stealing a kiss before running to the mechanics.

"I'm just going to check where Suzie is and then we can go for dinner, guys", Toto stated, squeezing George's and Lewis' shoulders before checking is phone to see if his wife had seen the text he sent about said dinner.

"The F1 Academy paddock is closed, you can see it from here that nobody is there", George pointed out as his boss frowned.

"I would help you, but I have to go and look for Carmen, too", George scratched his cheek as they walked along the corridor, seeing Lewis open his driver's room door and slumping his shoulders slightly, "Y/N is not here either".

"Where have the Mercedes missus gone...?", Toto muttered.

It didn't take then long to hear the mix of your three giggles coming from the lounging area, the three of you sat in the smaller sofas around a coffee table, hot drinks in your hands as you discussed something avidly but in a relaxing way still.

"Are the three of you willing to have dinner with the three of us? We'll still let you speak between yourselves, okay? It's like we won't even be there!", Toto joked.

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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huhniebowl · 3 months

Text

Mourlin Rouge

dominic fike x reader

warning(s); mentions of drug use, lil spicy & once again a try at some plot, so it’s a little long!

a/n; hey...been a while🧍🏾‍♀️...real shit i missed y'all.

ima try and wheeze my way back up in here. here's my apology... thanks for the request♥️

not proof read yet!

You push and shove your way through sweaty, sticky bodies trying to get to the bar. The bottom of your boots stick to the candied floor from spilled drinks, and God knows what else.

You're positive that if it weren’t so loud in here, you’d hear the toe-curling sound of your soles detaching from the sealed concrete.

This wasn’t how you envisioned your Saturday night to go; in fact, it wasn’t supposed to go like this at all.

What was meant to be a night of takeout and reruns of Supernatural suddenly wasn’t when your best friend, Aria, rang your phone.

Lights from the provocative club paint the room in deep crimson and make it hard to distinguish the faces and details of the clubbers.

Maybe that was the point of it. To hide the platinum pink hair of the woman you thought was blond, but remember the way her skin-tight dress glittered as she moved.

It had been a while since you felt that unreachable state of bliss.

You’re jealous.

Jealous of the people here. They aren’t here for a long time, you could tell by the way some were leaning over glass tables with rolled dollar bills—noses powdered white.

Or how they drop unicorn-shaped tablets on their tongues before kicking back a shot. They have no purpose, nothing to lose if shit were to hit the fan.

You grimace, no stranger to that state of mind. But that’s not you anymore.

Hasn’t been for years. Not since you met him.

In time, you make it to the bar, tall bottles of alcohol lined up in the wall, a golden glow emitting from behind them, and a bartender whose breasts look as if they're about to spill from her top. Betty.

Her nickname was given thanks to her curvy figure, pixie cut, and melanin skin.

Proclaiming her to be a real live Betty Boop. She’s familiar with you, as this isn’t your first time here, but it’s been a long while since you’ve set foot.

A thick cloud of smoke disperses from her lips, she winks at you, and you grin.

No stranger to her flirting.

“Haven’t seen you round’ here inna minute, you ain’t cheatin’ on me now?” her southern accent loud and thick.

“Could never do that you Betty, you know that.” You counter, leaning forward a bit and into her space.

You order something strong and sweet, voice open and teasing. Used to playing your cards right and getting your first drink free with her.

Betty gives you a once over, eyes playful and pupils blown as vapor steams from her nostrils, and clouds around you again. It’s sickeningly sweet.

The smallest smirk grows on her face, and then she goes about doing her job—bending down into a cabinet to grab what looks to be an expensive Vodka—playfully shaking her ass in the process.

You get comfortable on the stool and unstick your boots from the ground, placing them on the stool’s metal foot rod.

Your lips curl up at the resistance.

Out of all the clubs Aria could have picked, this is always the designated meeting ground.

Mourlin Rouge.

It's a lewd place within the red district of LA. You used to love it here, came every weekend with her and your friend group.

With him.

A Friday and Saturday night hotspot for the young and reckless. Music loud, K bumps on gold platters, and the weighted stench of marijuana.

You contribute to the stench. Weed fragrancing off you since you hotboxed your car before coming inside.

Your high is a pleasant one, Wedding Cake, always your go-to when clubbing.

Your name is shouted out, and you faintly hear it under the bass of the music. You crane your neck over your shoulder and lazily scan the onslaught of clubbers for the face with the familiar voice.

A tan arm sticks out, then a leg clad in leather pants before Aria shoves the rest of her body through the crowd.

Similar to what you did moments earlier.

You reach a hand up, ready to wave her over when you make eye contact, but your arm stills mid-way when a few other people filter in behind her, following in her footsteps.

The look you share is brief, but she looks nervous. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips pursed to the side.

Then you see him. The side of him, and suddenly the look on Aria’s face makes sense.

Your stomach churns and you quickly swivel back around to the bar before he can see you.

Betty comes back and slides a tall glass of alcohol towards you. It’s pink, has sugar on the rim, and a cocktail toothpick with a lacy black panty on the tip.

You grab it the second it’s within reach and take a much-needed sip.

Quick to get rid of the sick feeling in your stomach. It burns the entire way down, just as you hoped.

It’s uncanny how after months, just a look at him can make your body curl in itself within seconds.

You part your lips, ready to catch Betty’s attention to add a tequila shot when an arm slithers around your bare torso. The tattoos are a dead giveaway, your body knows who it is before your brain can catch up.

His touch is scorching and reminds you of the nights you'd curl into him to warm yourself.

He tugs you back and presses you against his chest. You feel the cold metal of a necklace on your back, no doubt the one you bought him.

The pendant digs into the top of your spine, as you grip the sides of your chair.

You take a deep breath when the hand around your waist spreads open, palm now resting on your hip. It takes all your strength not to succumb to old habits.

To curve your body to fit into his grip, reach around to scratch at his jaw as you turn your head to leave a glossy kiss on his neck. Right over the tattoo he has of your lips.

He smells familiar, spicy, and warm. Your clit pulses at the remembrance of it all.

“Dominic,” You start, voice shaky. You clear your throat, quick to cover up vulnerability.

You don’t miss him, and he’ll be aware of that by any means necessary.

“Get off.”

He no longer has access to you like this, he’s crossing a boundary. One that you’re having trouble keeping up.

With more effort than you’d like to admit, you yank his arm off you and cross your legs. Swiping non-existent lint off your shorts. Anything to keep yourself from facing him.

Your breakup was nasty, though you both never ventured past the title of a situationship. So you’d hardly call it a breakup. And that was the problem.

Dom was ready for something more, more than just a fuck, and so were you. But you didn’t trust him, not with a reputation like his.

Hell, you both started messing around because of his reputation. He was known for no strings attached. A nice fuck, a good friend.

Simple and to the point.

But you both never expected it to stretch out like this. For feelings to develop, for them to be mutual.

You got scared, scared that this was just a phase for him and not real. Because it was so real for you. To a point where it felt like your lifeline.

You broke it off and went no contact.

The night of you and Dom’s argument is something you’ve never been able to forget. You’d never seen him so distraught. So angry.

The intensity of it all reached heights you didn't think was possible. It’s been 3 months since then and the weight feels as heavy as it did back then.

“Girl, hey!” Aria steps to your left, her hands interlocked and resting under her chin as she smiles brightly. Voice up a pitch.

Something she subconsciously does when she knows she's fucked up.

“We saw him and some of his friends while waiting in line. We sort of just merged.” She eyes your other friend, Chloè, who fiddles with her hands and gives a weak smile.

You sigh, and can’t help but wonder if this was planned. The two of them time, and time again have told you that you acted irrational, that what you did wasn’t fair to him.

And you know. But you've convinced yourself that it's too late to reach out. To make amends. You've made your bed, and now you have to lie in it.

Chloè begged you to reach out to him, and you shot her down every time.

Aria adjusts the strap of her skimpy top, which didn’t need fixing but is now twisted around. Another anxious habit of hers.

This was planned.

You nod your head and muster a smile. “It’s cool. We’re all friends here.”

You look around towards the mixed group and try to play it neutral when you make contact with Dean. Dom’s closest friend. He’s staring blankly at you, judgment and anger bleeding out from his demeanor.

You cower under his gaze and divert your attention elsewhere. You can’t say you blame him.

“Uh, Jim Beam. Neat.” Dom’s voice rumbles behind you, he’s still so close you can feel the vibrations. He didn’t take your aggression seriously, and you’re not surprised.

He knows your body inside and out. Knows exactly how you tick. He’s seen the worst side of you, as well as the best.

Your weak attempt to keep a staid act was pointless.

It's why you can’t help it this time when you slyly turn to glance at his side profile. Your first official look of the night.

He’s looking at Betty as he orders, jawline sharp and lightly stubbled over.

Your eyes move up to his hair. It’s down to his neck now, slightly curled up. The start of a mullet.

The front of his hair long and curly and cascades down the side of his face. Stopping just under his cheekbones. He’s changed so much.

“She’ll have a tequila shot, salt rim.” He remembers your order and your foot twitches.

Before you can move, Dominic turns to you. Locking you in place with the eye contact you’ve been trying to avoid since the moment you saw him.

Your breath catches in your throat, heart thumping against your ribs.

He leans down so he’s level with your ear, hot breath fanning against your neck, “Right?”

Your arms wisp over with goosebumps.

His eyes are hooded, glossed over. You can tell he smoked before coming in. He roams over your face, stopping at your lips, before slowly looking back up. He leans in closer, and something in his face glints.

An eyebrow piercing. That’s new.

It looks completely healed, and your fingertips tremble with the need to softly run over it.

The parallel of the gold glow emitting from the bottle wall, to the red lighting of the club wash over him. He looks downright fuckable, and your self-restraint is hanging on by a thread.

It doesn’t take much for you to start remembering what you’ve tried so hard to bury.

Remembering how his lips felt when leaving reassuring kisses on the parts of your body you hated most.

How’d he laugh when you’d fuck up a string while he was teaching you to play guitar.

Arms wrapped around your middle and chin hooked over your shoulder as you sat in his lap in his studio. Arms and hands pressed and tangled over each other as he taught you an A cord to a B.

How he’d stare at you as if you were the sole reason for his existence as his hips moved at a pace that always had you on the brink of admitting the immense amount of love you hold for him.

He’s giving you that look now. You need to get out of here.

You swipe your clammy palms down your thighs and shoot up from the barstool, making a beeline to the bathroom and not sparing a look back toward Aria or Chloé.

You fall into the door when you make it inside.

The single restroom is washed in a warm low light. It’s surprisingly clean, with a bathroom vanity, and square mirror.

You take deep breaths to try and calm down.

“Fuck fuck, fuck!” You whisper yell, adjusting your top and moving over to look at yourself in the mirror.

Sweat starts to pebble on your forehead, and you hastily pull tissue from the dispenser to pat at your face. Careful not to smudge your makeup.

You’re racking your brain, trying to think of all the ways you can escape the club when the door clicks open.

You freeze, looking at the door through the mirror. It’s Dom, and he looks at you through the reflection as he locks the door behind him.

Something you thought you did.

You’re not thinking straight anymore, the only thing your mind keeps repeating is Leave! Get out!

Your body moves on auto, and you throw the paper towels down, gripping your mini purse tightly as you take long strides to the door.

Dominic doesn’t move, he stays firm in front your only exit, and watches your acrylics hit against the handle in an attempt to grip it.

“Dom fucking move or I swear to God.” Your voice comes out weak and desperate.

The strong tilt you had at the bar is gone.

You feel your body start to weaken, tears threatening to spill at your waterline.

“Dominic please.” Your voice simmers out, and your arms fall limp at the handle. He doesn't budge. You feel his eyes on you, and you suddenly feel small. Bared.

Dom softly brushes his fingers against your collarbone, moving up to your throat, then gently pulling you towards him by the sides of your face.

You keep your eyes on the sealed concrete.

“Stop.” He speaks against your lips, “Stop fucking fighting me.”

His voice is as weak and tired as yours.

It’s silent between you, your breaths mingling together with the muted bass in the bathroom walls.

“Can I trust you?” You finally speak. Vulnerability leaks out of you in waves, you’re on the brink of giving in.

You’re surprised you lasted this long in your resolve, your want to give yourself to him present since the very beginning of all this.

“I want this so bad. I want you so fucking bad, but can I trust you? Can you even trust me after what I—” You choke up, shaking your head.

“Yes, you can trust me.” he nods his head, “And despite it all, I trust you. With every fiber of my fucking being.” His thumb moves to swipe at your bottom lip, “I’ve never been more sure about anyone than I have with you.”

He tugs on your chin for you look at him, and you follow. Willingly locking eyes with the man you swore you didn’t need.

“I swear it,” Dominic says your name with finality, leaving no room for you to doubt him.

And it’s all you need.

You drop your purse to the floor, and eagerly tangle your fingers in his hair, yanking him to your mouth. Everything feels hot, your heart thrumming through your ears.

He kisses you feverishly, something about it almost primal.

Something spreads throughout your chest. It’s so strong, heavy, and so liberating that your fingers start to tremble.

You’re relying solely on muscle memory, when Dominic grabs a handful of your ass underneath your skirt, your flesh protruding between his fingers.

You let out a whimper, a confirmation only he can understand, and you jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his hips.

You feel his arms flex as he swings you around, everything around you a dizzying blur until he sets you down on the edge of the sink.

The cool ceramic sends a shiver down your spine, contrasting with the heat radiating from your skin, as you feel its smooth surface touch the curve of your ass.

Dominic doesn’t let off your lips once, taking everything you’ve denied him. You’re completely swallowed by him and let yourself fall into it without any restraint. He’s touching you everywhere, picking you apart in a way only he can do.

You try to pull back, "Dom," you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips.

He tries to chase them, and you let him, unable to deny yourself. Your lips hover over eachother, open and panting. Anything to stay close.

So you try again, “Dominic."

His name falls from your tongue soft and determined.

He fully pulls away to pepper messy kisses along your throat, each one pulling you deeper into a fuzzy headspace.

Your hands, still trembling, tighten in his hair, silently urging him to return to you.

You guide his head back up until his gaze meets yours, his breath ragged and heavy against your skin. His hands grip your sides tightly.

His fear of losing you is still there. Your heart clenches at the realization.

"I love you." Each syllable is weighted and leaves no room for hesitation.

Dominic's body stills.

"Say it again," He whispers, his voice a plea. Staring at you with the same intensity he had the last time you saw each other.

Longing.

"I love you," You repeat, the words a fervent affirmation of your unwavering devotion. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close.

"Again, please," He implores, his voice sounds broken, disbelieving. Scared. He buries his face in the safety of your neck.

With gentle hands, you cup his cheeks, guiding his gaze to meet yours once more.

"I love you, Dominic," You murmur, voice laced with raw honesty.

"I love you so fucking much and I’d never do anything to hurt you again. I promise."

You brush his hair back and leave tender kisses over his face, “I’m so sorry. You have me now. All of me.”

Dominic’s eyes start to gloss over, big, brown, and so full of love.

He nods his head firmly, and for the first time in a long time, you see him smile. It’s a genuine one, a real one. All teeth, and dimples are on full display for you, and you only.

It’s the same smile he gave you all those years ago when you realized you had fallen for him deeper than you believed possible.

“I love you too.” He noses at your jaw, closing his eyes and melting into your body, “But you already knew that.”

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carolmunson · 1 year

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let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie.

g’morning pretty ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go.

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture. “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.”

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it. “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?” “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.” “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again.

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :) see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :)

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning. You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.” “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you. “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks. “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.” “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.” He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed. “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.” “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.” “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?”

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.”

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.”

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?”

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.”

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable.

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice.

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face.

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.”

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?”

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.”

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?”

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.”

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return, “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them.

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again.

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday.

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.”

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles.

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him.

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.”

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do.

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.”

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.”

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.”

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.”

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.”

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.”

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?”

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.”

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card.

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions.

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?”

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box.

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you.

“What can I get you?” he asks again.

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take.

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see.

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.”

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck.

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically.

“Another banger,” he exclaims.

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise.

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did.

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines.

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s.

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it.

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.”

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is.

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway.

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.”

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’”

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target.

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you.

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.”

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?” “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it.

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?”

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through.

“We have all day, right?” you smirk.

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?”

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow.

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.”

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.”

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?”

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand.

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.”

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.”

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels?

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy?

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?”

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.”

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly.

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.”

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever.

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing.

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.”

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf.

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?”

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.”

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.”

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.”

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something.

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be.

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store.

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.”

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.”

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it.

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?”

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.”

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest.

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.”

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again.

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.”

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you.

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention.

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words.

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?”

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.”

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?”

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?”

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.”

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries. “Easter candy?” he asks.

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.”

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?”

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?”

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.”

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in.

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile.

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?”

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully.

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you.

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease.

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.”

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point.

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.”

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console.

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you?

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire.

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?”

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?”

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.”

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?”

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze.

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back.

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks.

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.”

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.”

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more.

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.”

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face.

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts.

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.”

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’”

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head.

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.”

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth.

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.”

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.”

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.”

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.”

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage.

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green.

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.”

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly.

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now.

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?”

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.”

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.”

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask.

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest, “You gettin’ sleepy?”

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.”

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.”

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?”

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do.

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now?

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped.

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.”

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no.

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.”

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping.

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard.

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.”

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again.

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!”

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes.

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.”

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.”

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile.

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you.

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.”

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.”

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.”

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.”

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception.

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.”

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch.

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth. it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you.

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand.

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy. oh, so you miss me? of course i do :) i miss you, too :)

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?”

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met.

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.”

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.”

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?”

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.”

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted.

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks.

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back.

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.”

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?”

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.”

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.”

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them.

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.”

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds.

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.” “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.”

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees.

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks.

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.” “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage.

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser.

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark.

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late? grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.”

yeah, show me :)

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand.

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it.

jfc you know what you’re doing whaaaaat? what do you mean? ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean. do you not like it? i like it a little too much you wanna see it from the back?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers.

of course i do

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru. you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn? lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it.

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?”

yeah? you’d take care of it? only if you asked nicely :)

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand.

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please. what a good boy. :)

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.”

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth?

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first.

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full oh you wanna shut me up? is that it? i don’t think it takes much.

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off.

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that?

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat.

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it you sound very confident because i am is it big?

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit.

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it. i know i can take it. so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here. so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that. so you are jerking it in your bedroom? the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good.

🙈 stop yeah? i can stop. don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come? cause i do have my fingers between my thighs

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls.

does it feel good, sweetheart? it would feel better if you were doing it for me. can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…”

absolutely.

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring.

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does.

“Hey there,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan.

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again.

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh.

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm.

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.”

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax.

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.”

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead.

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?”

“Yeah,” you whine to him.

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”

“How?” you ask breathily.

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.”

“I’m not needy,” you protest.

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.”

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver.

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?”

“Yeah…”

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly.

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?”

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you.

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.”

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over.

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low.

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea.

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?”

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you.

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm? Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.”

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down.

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls.

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.”

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober.

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully.

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly.

“Poor thing,” he offers.

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.”

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.”

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters.

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.”

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.”

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours.

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned.

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere.

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go.

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.”

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.”

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy.

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment. “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling.

“I missed you,” he says confidently.

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group.

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug.

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over.

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose.

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.”

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind.

“Guess who it is,” she laughs.

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand.

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.”

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts.

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.”

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face.

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.”

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.”

“So you like her?” Eddie grins.

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.”

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort.

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.”

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs.

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all.

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses.

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat.

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt.

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too. He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it.

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit –

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse.

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.”

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines.

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.”

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time.

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs.

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair.

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs.

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks.

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this.

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going.

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently.

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room, “You even know how to play?”

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain.

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.”

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again.

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not. Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade.

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest.

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting.

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin.

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen.

“Do I win a prize?”

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.”

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.” He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again.

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.”

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other.

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.”

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips.

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands.

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths.

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.”

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums.

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp.

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.”

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.”

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?”

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar.

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually –

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves.

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.”

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck.

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind.

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft.

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips.

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.”

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.”

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks.

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel.

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit.

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead.

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.”

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout.

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again.

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him.

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger.

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue.

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles.

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.”

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time?

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.”

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?”

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…”

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game.

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish.

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you.

“Eddie…”

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him.

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.”

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch.

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back.

“M’gonna cum…oh shit — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers.

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead.

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.”

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate.

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?”

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.”

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?”

“Much better.”

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks.

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen.

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face.

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate.

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –”

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is.

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?”

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn.

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping.

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.”

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?”

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.”

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed.

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.”

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.”

Jingle. Click. Creak.

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.”

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen.

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.”

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second.

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.” Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.”

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him.

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit.

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?”

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much.

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x y/n

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